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30 Minute Train Poetry: She Runs in Heels

“She Runs in Heels”

All manners ignored, all poise indiscrete,

a bun-haired corporate valkyrie on Congress Street

Bolts past the midday crowds on hobbled feet.

Her legs pumping as steady as wheels,

Her steps unthrottled as she runs in heels.

Taunt calf muscles clad in panty hose

Clench with each impact of heel and toes,

then a pause for the body to recompose.

Powered by Cosmo-sanctioned 400 calorie meals,

The world stops to watch her running in heels.

Pedestrians scan for the source of sound:

The clack clack, click click feminine pound

That signals a woman perched four inches above ground.

The head of a construction worker reels

to stare at her skirt as she runs in heels.

And her porcelain face yields no clue

About what goal she is propelled to pursue

In the world’s most impractical shoe.

The intrigue of it all! I’m dying to feel

The sublime confinement of running in heels.

–Meredith Green P

Posted in Culture.

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Mt Adams 5774′ July 15 2007

During the last mile of our 9.5 mile day hike to the summit of Mount Adams, Mr. Pinault turned to me and crowed “Mt. Adams is in the pocket!”
“In the pocket” is one of many French idioms that bares a strong, almost deliberate resemblance to its English counterpart, “in the bag.” Normally I would have grabbed a tree branch which which to fashion a switch and whipped Mr. Pinault while shouting “In the bag! Say it, in the bag!” It’s the only way he’ll learn colloquial English. But it was Bastille Day, so I magnanimously ignored his foible and agreed with his sentiment. “Yes, another Four Thousand Footer has been pocketed!”
Rewind:
Mount Adams (elevation 5774) is the second tallest mountain in the Northeast (its neighbor Mount Washington is the tallest ). The first 2 1/2 hours were a steady climb on the Air Line trail through the woods. When we finally reached the “Stop” sign, we knew good views lay ahead above the treeline. The weather was kind: blue skies with a few clouds, fresh air, no wind. Mr. Pinault was elated that we were not going to die.

Posted in 4000 Footers.

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I Feel Fine

More than a few months ago, I got an email from a young lady in Illinois about this website. It was very flattering and it ended with a vague request for “Any advice for my blog?” So I checked out her blog, which turned out to be an online diary of anguished emotion and teenaged narcissism. Each day featured no less than 1000 words about how she was feeling. Literally, it was like “I am feeling incredibly sad. I feel sadder today than yesterday. I thought I’d feel better if I talked to Tara. So I called Tara but she made me feel upset. Maybe I will feel happy if I smiled more. I feel scared about how I will feel tomorrow.”
And on and on. I wanted to advise her “Don’t torture the reader with daily updates on your mundane activities and emotions. Don’t write a lot if you’re not saying anything.” But being blunt to strangers isn’t my thing, so I said instead “Wow you’re really prolific and sincere. Try re-reading what you write, and imagine how what your readers are feeling.”
I never heard back from the young lady and her blog wasn’t updated the last time I checked, but I thought of her as I played around with We Feel Fine (here), a Java applet that “harvests human feelings,” which sounds creepy in a City of the Lost Children sort of way. We Feel Fine searches millions of blogs for statements containing the phrases “I feel” and “I am feeling” and compiles a database of these statements. When you go to the website, you can explore recent feelings, which are rendered as color-coded particles on a series of six aesthetically-pleasing user interfaces.
At first, I admired We Feel Fine more for its technical and artistic coolness than for its mission, which is to “make the world seem a little smaller… help people see beauty in the everyday ups and downs of life.” Yeah, mushy gushy feelings, whatever. But as I played around with We Feel Fine, I gradually saw the strange poignancy in a single statement that declares a feeling. Stripped of context and identity, it suddenly has the potential to be universal. I find myself relating to a surprising number of the feelings that I probably would not have picked up on from reading the entire blog. Here are just a sampling of feelings that I found today (really, go try it yourself)
i feel so conflicted about harry potter because I want it so badly but i dont because then it will be over (from someone)
i feel it is an act of extreme chutzpah for apple to ask me to pay 2200 (from
someone)
i cant deny that i feel somewhat nostalgic and sad of those great teenage and college years but i guess thats life and we need to try to get the best out of every age (from someone)
i feel like puking when i see such a stupid talentless asshole advocating social darwinism (from someone)
i feel like a caged bird in this town (from someone in tennessee)
i had some difficulty with my right knee in the beginning but it feels much better since i switched shoes. (from someone)
i feel like garbage (from someone in ontario canada)
i feel like a doll (from somone in warsaw poland when it was sunny)
i feel at ease (from someone)
i feel so alive this morning (from someone)
i feel the drink vouchers were free shots that tasted like christmas (from a 20 year old in bristol england when it was rainy)
i feel like someone punched me in the face (from someone in hightstown new jersey)
i feel like prancing around in the rain barefoot (from someone)

Posted in Existence.

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I’m Bushed

Picking up the newspaper every morning and reading about the latest news involving the Bush Administration is becoming downright farcical. Surgeon General claims Bush Administration Interference. Homeland Security Secretary has “gut feeling” about threat. Bush still staying the long, bloody, unending course in Iraq.

This presidency is like a sit-com, with every episode a slight variation on an arrogantly stupid, borderline fascist theme. Can’t someone make him go away? I know Nancy Pelosi has no interest in impeaching Bush, but maybe she’d be willing to euphemistically “cancel the sit-com”?

I just can’t muster the energy to rant about Bush today. No, sir. It’s July and I’m five months away from my next vacation. I think I’ll suck on a beer and feign ignorance about humanity’s plight.

Posted in In the News.

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Professional Help

I just passed the 8-year mark as a technical writer [or, if the Society for Technical Communication (STC) has its way with the US government’s Standard Occupational Classifications (SOC), a technical communicator]. I’m on the cusp of legitimately dangling that covetable modifier “senior” in front of whatever I am in order to designate my experience as a proven producer of quality technical documentation, my ability to successfully plan, manage, and execute assignments in parallel with software development cycles, and my passion for keeping up with new trends in the ever-evolving world of technical documentation.

Senior! It’s incredible. I can distinctly remember when I was a Junior. I couldn’t type nearly as fast as I can now, nor could I babble about learnability, usability, and discoverability. My use of bolded and italicized text was frightfully gratuitous. And to think how I’ve mastered bulleted lists!

I belong to several Yahoo Groups that pertain to my profession and receive daily digests with the ongoing discussions. On slow days, I’ll delve into the digest to gauge the hot topics among technical communicators. A current controversy: What symbols do you use to explain a series of clicks in the software? One meticulous writer has always used arrows (Tools –> Options) but MS Word is turning the arrows into nasty wingdings. So should he use greater-thans (Tools > Option), vertical bars (Tools | Options), or another alternative?

A fervent flurry of responses. The devout greater-thans are outraged at any deviation from the standard greater-than philosophy because it imperils universal user understanding. Those in the vertical bar minority are likewise disgusted that anyone would call their beloved corporate standards into question. Takeaway lesson: If you ever want to rile a technical communicator, just mention anything related to stylistic standards.

At the first company I ever worked at, way back when I was the Junior on a team of five Seniors, a fellow writer was ready to quit because one of our weekly style meetings chastised him for using “they” to describe a singular person and avoid use of a gender. “I refuse to do the ‘he/she,'” he ranted to me afterwards in the kitchenette. “I abhor the ‘he/she.’ I’d rather be grammatically incorrect than clumsy.” I do not think it a coincidence that, two years after the documentation department’s gender-neutrality schism, the company went bankrupt.

Posted in The 9 to 5.

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The Chinese Threat

About a year ago, an acquaintance and I engaged in spirited banter about whether or not China was poised to achieve world domination within the next 30 years.

His argument can be summed up in three words: One billion people. “The Chinese are hell-bent on taking over the world and there’s one billion of them. They’ll gobble up the Earth’s resources. They’ll surpass the US economically. They’ll have an irreproachable military. The US will have no influence over the Chinese government, and we’ll have no choice but to bow to their will.”

My counter-argument can be summed up in two words: Squat toilets. “The greatness of Chinese civilization cannot be denied. However, I do not accept that a culture of squat toilets can be superior to Western civilization. Squat toilets are squalid, indecent, unhygienic, devoid of etiquette, and symbolic of how China is not only decades behind, they’re centuries behind. It’ll take decades to modernize their toilet infrastructure, let alone achieve world domination.”

But today’s announcement of Beijing’s new 1000-stall palatial public toilet has me a little apprehensive. Said one Chinese official, “We are spreading toilet culture. People can listen to gentle music and watch TV… After they use the bathroom they will be very, very happy.” Chilling.

Posted in In the News.

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Mount Washington’s Alpine Garden

Mount Washington in NH is the highest peak in the Northeast, at some 6200 feet. The mountain is known for severe and volatile weather; treacherous ravine skiing 10 out of 12 months a year; its auto road and ‘This car climbed Mount Washington’ bumper stickers; and the popular cog railroad that chugs passengers up and down the mountain. Since the summit can be reached by means other than hiking, I’ve never felt an urge to step foot on Mt. Washington… until yesterday, when we decided to check out the blooming Alpine Garden on the mountain’s eastern slope.

We did a 8.5 mile loop (vertical rise 3500 feet) that started on the little-used Old Jackson Road trail, then up, up the rocky Nelson Crag trail, then across the Alpine Garden trail, then down the Lion Head and Tuckerman Ravine trails. On our way down, we encountered many men with labored breath asking “Did you get to the top?” How annoying. I quelled the urge to snottily blurt that peak-bagging was not our objective – we wanted to enjoy Mt. Washington’s unique alpine ecology. But in fact, we would have gone the extra mile to the summit had the weather forecast not included thunderstorms, which started right after we finished our hike.

When I say “Alpine Garden,” don’t you picture lounge chairs, beer, and Italian butlers with platters of Swiss chocolate? Unfortunately, we were forced to take our Alpine Garden tour in the midst of mist, fog, and wind. Even though the dizzying views were obscured in the clouds, I dug the Middle Earth mise-en-scene.

My overall impression of Mount Washington: Raw awe. Pleasing fear of nature. Pretty flowers.

Posted in 4000 Footers.

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Preparing for Jehovah’s Witnesses

Having never been visited by a Jehovah’s Witness, L.L. doesn’t believe they exist. He is ready for them, though. He has a plan. When they come to his door, he will welcome them with milk and cookies, and invite them to sit down in his living room. He will deflect their conversion with his own highly-developed Christian theology. They will fall silent as he explains the fallacy of their biblical notions. When he’s done, they will be Episcopalians, and then they’ll all go see Ratatouille.

Us normal people can sneer all we want at those odd Jehovah’s Witnesses, who are infamous for door-to-door proselytizing about how impending Armageddon will result in precisely 144,000 people ascending into heaven while the remaining believers enjoy earthly paradise. But if you love freedom, you gotta love for the Witnesses. An article in the San Francisco Chronicle points out that these odd zealots do serve a secular purpose: Legal experts say Jehovah’s Witnesses’ lawsuits to protect their beliefs have done more over the past century to protect First Amendment freedoms than any other organization. The right to refuse to say the Pledge of Allegiance, the ability to pamphleteer without government monitoring and the expansion of the Bill of Rights into state law are among the many precedents established or strengthened by litigation by Jehovah’s Witnesses.

The next time someone knocks on my door all eager to share the teachings of Jehovah, I have a prepared statement that I will read. “I respect that the Supreme Court has ruled that you do not need a permit in order to solicit door-to-door. I appreciate that your crazy beliefs have tested the boundaries of this country’s laws to establish our civil liberties. I acknowledge that the First Amendment protects our freedom to think and say pretty much whatever we want (with the exception of fighting words, as Jehovah’s Witness Walter Chaplinsky discovered). It’s all really great, really American. But I could never, ever be a Jehovah’s Witness. Your highly-developed doctrines about blood are too much for me. I’m a fainter, you see. Just looking at you, I’m picturing you bleeding to death on principles based on a random bible verse in the book of Acts. It’s making me light-headed, so I’m closing the door now.”

Posted in Americana.

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Sheep Effer in Sherborn

I believe in getting news from a variety of media to ensure a well-rounded news diet.

The current staple of my media diet is the New York Times, which provides a nourishing mix of well-written liberal-slanted hard news spiced with cultural filler. I also feast weekly on the Economist – my leafy greens. To complete my recommended allowance of News of Historic Importance, I take supplements of the online versions of the Guardian and the London Times).

For my dose of regional news, the Boston Globe is an excellent source of Massachusetts politics and business, and I also dip in to a number of Boston-centered blogs. Sometimes I watch the local television news, but this is a once-in-a-while treat that doesn’t really satisfy any craving for news. The headlines invariably include a story about an incident of public rage or deep consumer dissatisfaction; a local couple or clergyman who is going to jail for child abuse; a joyous event that has ended in violence or tragedy; and a really special and/or cute animal.

Quite frequently, I nibble on infotainment, like Slate, Spiked Online, the Obscure Store, and BuzzFeed.

You’d think I’d be stuffed on news at this point, but then there’s super-super local news. Town news, like local ordinance disputes, high school sports, and ordinary people dealing with ordinary life. It’s the media equivalent of white bread, with the rare piece of chocolate cake: Yesterday, I go to the Metrowest Daily News online, expecting to read lame stories about local acts of patriotism…

And instead the headline story is “Sherborn teen charged with bestiality”. An 18-year old boy was caught having sex with sheep, thanks to a surveillance camera that was installed in the barn after a year of break-ins. The man grabbed a sheep by its hind legs and dragged it to the corner of the stall… The man removed his clothes and appeared to have sexual relations with the sheep. After finishing, the man put his pants back on and left the barn with his shirt in his hand.

Dear lord. You see, some people ignore local news because it is too fluffy or inconsequential, but this story illustrates perfectly why it is important to keep up with local news. Because yes, it’s important to know what is happening in Afghanistan, or what Gordon Brown’s attitude towards the US is, or how the trial against Charles Taylor is progressing at the Hague. But it’s also important to know that there’s a sheep effer in Sherborn.

Posted in In the News.

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Reigning

What crappy weather. The grave-faced weathermen deliver the forecast: 70 degrees, rain, wind. They are solemn, with a tad of joviality thrown in for mercy. Honestly, we don’t make the weather, we just report it. We like the Boston Pops Fireworks Spectacular just as much as anyone! Bad weather reports on the Fourth of July are like the final exam of meteorologist school.

Why is God punishing America like this on her birthday? Why, President Bush, why?

Here we have “Conversation Starters for Your BBQ: 9 off-beat facts about our Founding Fathers.” I can hear it now: “John Adams would have a hard time with this corn on the cob. He refused to wear dentures!” Silence and bewildered stares. “Chilly, isn’t it? Never thought I’d be wearing jeans on July 4th. Hey, did you know James Madison was the first President to wear long pants instead of breeches?” Crickets.

Posted in Americana.

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