3/13/2011

1.)  Here’s an argument I’ve been making for a long time: we need to pay teachers more.  In his op-ed, Nick Kristof argues that students’ lifetime earnings increase exponentially when they are exposed to better teachers.  For schools to get better teachers they need to attract them by offering more attractive salaries to the best and brightest.

For anyone who didn’t totally despise school, I think it’s safe to say we all had a handful of teachers who shaped us into the people we are today.  For me it was my 5th grade teacher, Ms. Neal, who taught me to balance a check book; my 9th grade geometry teacher, Mr. Farmer, who taught me to just do it; and Mr. Holden, my high school basketball coach, who made me realize that I wasn’t as cool as I thought I was.

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/13/opinion/13kristof.html?_r=1&ref=opinion

2.)  I typically don’t read the poetry in the New Yorker.  Even I find it a little over the top.  But for whatever reason I decided to read one of the poems this week and I really enjoyed this piece by Stephen Dunn, entitled “The Imagined.”

I get lucky every now and then but I am certainly no expert on love.  Unearthing the meaning or explaining the complexity of poems is, like most things, beyond my capabilities.  But take a quick read and see what you think.  You probably won’t want to talk about it…

http://poemhunter.blogspot.com/2011/03/imagined.html

(Editorial note:  The New Yorker has this poem locked, so only paying subscribers can read it on their website.  I’m linking here to a random person’s blog that has it posted.  I’m not sure of the legality of this, but it is clearly cited and attributed to the New Yorker magazine.)

3/12/2011

It seems as if just yesterday the nation was rapt by the images of a black man becoming the leader of the free world.  The promise of hope and a better tomorrow hung thick in the air that cold January morning two years ago.  But after the inauguration balls ended, the red carpets were rolled up, and the champagne bottles emptied, two devastatingly costly wars continued to rage, a lackluster health care bill passed, rich people got tax cuts, and the Middle East caught on fire.  And here we are again, less than a year away from campaign season.

The paucity of serious GOP candidates readying to take on President Obama is, in equal parts, ironic and unsettling.  The president receives a daily salvo of attacks from detractors on both the right and the left.  To republicans, he’s a socialist pig, hell-bent on bankrupting the country and “spreading the wealth around.”  To liberals, he’s a diffident jellyfish—too spineless to stand up for the progressive agenda and too timid to play hardball with the right.  Perhaps the weight of the presidential crown is causing it to fall over his ears.

It is interesting, then, that the field for potential GOP presidential candidates is so wide open.  During the latest CPAC convention—a mindless, yet prominent, conservative talking point filled hoedown, teeming with some of the most ignorant rhetoric you can imagine—Ron Paul won the straw poll with 30% of the votes.  The only other household names that garnished votes were Mitt Romney at 23% and Newt Gingrich at 5%.  The problem with these men, however, is that they are unelectable in a national race.  Ron Paul, despite his good intentions and genuine intellect, is too much of a strict constructionist and calls for draconian cuts to the government.  This will not bode well with the general electorate.  In his home state of Massachusetts, Mitt Romney drew the blueprint for what became known to the right as “Obamacare.”  Any indication of support for the health care bill is anathema to republicans.  And as for Newt, well, he’s just an angry and hateful old man.

This lack of leadership within the GOP has created an environment were the issues are shaping the candidate rather than one where a candidate shapes the issues.  Since President Obama’s inauguration, the default position for republicans is the opposite side of whatever position he takes.  But when the right developed this strategy, they failed to discount the fact that Obama is exceedingly moderate and pragmatic.

When the president called for a thoughtful discussion to fix the ailing healthcare system, republicans attacked him for overreaching and for being, among other nonsensical things, the spawn of Hitler.  The system that left 44 million people uninsured and allowed insurance companies to drop their customers when they became ill suddenly was just.  Now, the default republican position is to NOT be serious about solving the healthcare problem. When Obama considered allowing the tax break to expire for the top two percent of wage earners, republicans cast him as a socialist aiming to hurt small businesses.   So despite their ongoing rhetoric, the default republican position is to NOT be serious about deficit reduction.  Obama was met with recalcitrance when in 2008 he continued the bailouts and initiated the Recovery Act.  True to form, republicans had to oppose, so the default republican position is to NOT be serious about boosting our economy.  When Obama supported federal funding of stem cell research and called for a repeal of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, republicans nearly took to the streets in opposition.  The default republican position is to NOT be serious about tackling pressing social issues.

When a political party chooses to not take serious positions on serious issues, they are left with unserious candidates.  This is the quagmire the GOP finds itself in.  The few serious republican officials, mostly the ones no one has ever heard of, dare not step foot in this poisonous field.  With luck, these few serious republicans will emerge and give voice to sensible opposition.  The easier route, however, may be to wait until 2016 when an amicable and smart, albeit embattled, incumbent is not up for reelection.

I imagine that President Obama is sleeping well these days, for he is a serious man.  Queue Donald Trump.

3/5/2011

And just like that, it’s over.

This day two months ago I was preparing for what could have been my darkest hour—a pending surgery, the prospect of chemo, and a long drawn out battle with cancer. This day two months ago I was diffident and sulky, wondering what I had done to deserve this.

To be sure, the road to today hasn’t been without its bumps, twists, and turns. Losing a ball, the taste of alkaline metals seeping into your mouth, and having to judge food not by how good it tastes but my how bad it may taste coming up can whither the strongest will.  I found, however, that these adversities may have temporarily weakened my spirit, but forever strengthened my resolve.

On February 7^th I started my one cycle of chemotherapy. That day I joined the denizens of the infusion ward at the Holy Cross Cancer Center and watched Sportscenter reruns and read as the nurses fed me intravenous chemo. For all but one of my seven sessions my mom sat next to me for hours, seemingly content reading cooking magazines, playing me (and winning) in Words With Friends, and at times doing nothing but sitting and waiting. I’d always say I was fine and that she should take off and go run errands or something. She never took me up on the offer.

For the most part, the chemotherapy was uneventful. Like I’ve said, I only had one cycle, so the side effects proved very minimal. A curbed appetite, a little irritability because of the steroid they’d prep me with, and, just one night, a case of the fever and chills. It wasn’t until this last Wednesday when my hair fell out that anyone would have known I was getting treatments. According to the girls at work my bald head is sexy, so I’m rocking it with as much confidence as I can muster. But lets just say I’m looking forward to the day the old follicles decide to sprout hair again. The bald head really only works for two types of guys: guys with money and NBA players. I’m a poor accountant.

A common question people ask me is whether this is “scary”. I always find this a tough question to answer. Is it scary, as in, did I ever think I was going to die? Absolutely not. Is it scary to think about what it will be like to live as someone who had cancer? Yes, and for a number of reasons. Similar to what I read on other people’s blogs, I always wake up with the creeping sensation that today just might be the day the cancer comes back.  Secondly, I’m indebted to all those who stood by me and had a genuine concern for my wellbeing—I could not ask for more supportive family members, friends, and co-workers. I also carry the burden of having to live up to the promises I made with the world in return for tomorrow being a better day.

Lastly, what’s most humbling about this experience is how prosaic and, unfortunately, typical it is. It is near impossible to feel sorry for myself when nearly every person I meet has a story involving themselves or a loved one who faced a similar challenge, but to an exponential degree. The world is a big place with a lot of people facing a ton of shit. Cancer is a hell of a disease, and one where a lot of people aren’t as fortunate to have an outcome like mine. But like my boy Dave Matthews says in his song Little Red Bird, “It adds comfort to count the battles won even if the war is lost.”

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Two things: 1) I’m still knocking on this wooden desk after writing that first line. 2) I’m probably not going to post about this cancer crap anymore, so expect subsequent posts similar to those made around November. Yes.