Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Friday, March 6, 2009
NPR
In the last few weeks a number of things (including a friend's NPR blog post) have reminded me of how much I miss listening to NPR. Not listening to my favorite shows on a regular basis, and at this point, really not listening to them at all, is something I'm not happy about. Morning Edition, The World, All Things Considered, This American Life, Wait Wait, etc. used to be integral parts of my life. Not only did they keep me well informed about current events, but the stories were (and I assume still are) always educational, intelligent, memorable, moving or some combination of those things. They made me more aware of the world and gave me interesting things to think and talk about.
My very first memories of NPR are of sitting in the back of the minivan driving home from somewhere and listening in as my parents listened to NPR. I used to love falling asleep to the sound of the radio men's voices--they always seemed so peaceful. I distinctly remember the first story that I actually listened to actively on one of these rides with my parents. It was a story about road rage in New Delhi. It made me feel so adult to listen to and pay attention to talk radio the way that my parents did. I remember when I fell in love with A Prairie Home Companion and if we started an episode in the car and didn't have time to finish it before we got home, I would make my parents turn on the radio in the TV room so we could listen to the rest of the show. I started listening to NPR regularly in high school. I would listen to it in the car on the way to school or work during the summer. I have had many driveway moments. And every day after school, I would spend an hour listening to The World while I did my math homework making the claim that since math doesn't require reading, I could easily concentrate on calculus and news events at the same time (I pulled this off surprisingly well). In college my daily NPR intake went down, but I usually made time each weekend for This American Life and Wait Wait Don't Tell Me. Every chance I had to borrow the car, I would tune the radio immediately to 88.5. I even remember driving home from College Park one morning and being so engrossed in an episode of This American Life that I deliberately missed a turn on the way home so I'd have an extra 30 minutes in the car.
In my current life, I have pretty much no time for NPR. Mornings are out since I wake up and usually only have about 20 minutes before I have to be out of the apartment. And even if I'm up on time, I have a sleeping roommate with no walls between us. I don't drive to work and can't listen to the radio on the train. I've considered downloading podcasts for the commute but as it stands I already am feeling bad about how little reading I'm getting done these days and I'm not sure I want to sacrifice reading for NPR. But before my bus ride down to DC this evening, I downloaded a bunch of podcasts (This I Believe, Story of the Day, This American Life, Wait Wait and Driveway Moments) and spent the 4 hour ride listening to NPR. It was wonderful. I literally laughed and cried. The episode of This American Life was all about the banking crisis and I learned so much! And a few of the This I Believe stories seem to be exactly what I believe.
Listening to the familiar anchor voices and remembering listening to these shows made me realize that I miss NPR not just because of it's educational value and the interest it added to my day to day life. I miss listening to NPR because I miss the times when I had time to listen to NPR. Thinking back to laying on my bed listening to The World with a page of calculus problems sitting before me and a cool spring breeze pouring through my open window makes me ache with nostalgia. It's because it was the room I grew up in and so remembering that happy time spent there leads into memories of other things. Remembering listening to NPR reminds me of feeling adult for the first time, reminds me of the freedom of learning how to drive, reminds me of commuting to summer jobs, reminds me of summer, reminds me of a time when I could just spend an hour in my room listening to the radio.
My very first memories of NPR are of sitting in the back of the minivan driving home from somewhere and listening in as my parents listened to NPR. I used to love falling asleep to the sound of the radio men's voices--they always seemed so peaceful. I distinctly remember the first story that I actually listened to actively on one of these rides with my parents. It was a story about road rage in New Delhi. It made me feel so adult to listen to and pay attention to talk radio the way that my parents did. I remember when I fell in love with A Prairie Home Companion and if we started an episode in the car and didn't have time to finish it before we got home, I would make my parents turn on the radio in the TV room so we could listen to the rest of the show. I started listening to NPR regularly in high school. I would listen to it in the car on the way to school or work during the summer. I have had many driveway moments. And every day after school, I would spend an hour listening to The World while I did my math homework making the claim that since math doesn't require reading, I could easily concentrate on calculus and news events at the same time (I pulled this off surprisingly well). In college my daily NPR intake went down, but I usually made time each weekend for This American Life and Wait Wait Don't Tell Me. Every chance I had to borrow the car, I would tune the radio immediately to 88.5. I even remember driving home from College Park one morning and being so engrossed in an episode of This American Life that I deliberately missed a turn on the way home so I'd have an extra 30 minutes in the car.
In my current life, I have pretty much no time for NPR. Mornings are out since I wake up and usually only have about 20 minutes before I have to be out of the apartment. And even if I'm up on time, I have a sleeping roommate with no walls between us. I don't drive to work and can't listen to the radio on the train. I've considered downloading podcasts for the commute but as it stands I already am feeling bad about how little reading I'm getting done these days and I'm not sure I want to sacrifice reading for NPR. But before my bus ride down to DC this evening, I downloaded a bunch of podcasts (This I Believe, Story of the Day, This American Life, Wait Wait and Driveway Moments) and spent the 4 hour ride listening to NPR. It was wonderful. I literally laughed and cried. The episode of This American Life was all about the banking crisis and I learned so much! And a few of the This I Believe stories seem to be exactly what I believe.
Listening to the familiar anchor voices and remembering listening to these shows made me realize that I miss NPR not just because of it's educational value and the interest it added to my day to day life. I miss listening to NPR because I miss the times when I had time to listen to NPR. Thinking back to laying on my bed listening to The World with a page of calculus problems sitting before me and a cool spring breeze pouring through my open window makes me ache with nostalgia. It's because it was the room I grew up in and so remembering that happy time spent there leads into memories of other things. Remembering listening to NPR reminds me of feeling adult for the first time, reminds me of the freedom of learning how to drive, reminds me of commuting to summer jobs, reminds me of summer, reminds me of a time when I could just spend an hour in my room listening to the radio.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Coney Island
I don't tend to think of myself as a lover of beaches. I associate them with being hot and sweaty, sunburn and squinting, and sand being stuck to everything. But I love beaches when it's cold out. I spent Saturday afternoon at Coney Island. It was sunny and windy and chilly and totally fantastic. I had no plans for the day, my roommate was working and a trip to Coney Island has been on my list of things to do for a while. So I got on the F train and headed out to the southern-most tip of Brooklyn. It is a surprisingly long train ride (Brooklyn is pretty massive) but a lot of the ride is above ground through some interesting neighborhoods. (There is a massive and awe-inspiring cemetery that you can see from the platform at Bay Parkway that I really want to explore.) Arriving at Coney Island I was actually surprised at how many people were there. I was expecting it to be totally empty save a few beach combers but there was a healthy number of people and plenty of other lone photographers like myself. Although a number of people told me they were sorry I had to spend the day wandering around Coney Island by myself, I really didn't mind being alone and actually rather liked it. It was pretty peaceful and a wonderful setting for some quite musings, a bit of reading, and just absorbing nature. I took my shoes off and walked along the beach for a while. My toes were freezing but it was great. Just walking along the Atlantic was wonderful. I felt so far away from the City. Looking out to a horizon and feeling as though you can look forever is not a sensation you ever get in the steel canyon landscape that is Manhattan. Standing there facing south, the sun on my face, with my toes just above the wave line and watching the waves roll on to the shore was just the closeness to nature that I was looking for. For a couple weeks I was really feeling like I needed to escape the cold grey city, but now I feel refreshed.
I took more than 200 pictures, I'll hopefully get around to posting them soon!
I took more than 200 pictures, I'll hopefully get around to posting them soon!
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
Musical Interlude
Two weeks ago (I know, I'm slow at getting these things on to my blog)... Two weeks ago, the highlight of my work week came in the form of a somewhat surreal musical experience. On Tuesdays and Thursdays I work in the basement of a church which serves a hot meal to homeless men and women around lunch time. When I find myself getting bored of work or if I'm having a particularly slow day, I usually find myself down in the kitchen hanging out with the chef, Mike--a really nice guy who lets me invade his sacred cooking space. The other afternoon, after lunch had been served and Mike was cleaning up, I was in the kitchen chatting and a friend of Mike's comes in. As I later learned, this guy is Brazilian and is just passing through the city. His dad is some well known Brazilian composer who went to school with Leonard Bernstein. Anyway, this friend makes a comment about us needing to hear this amazing violin he has. The next thing I know, he's playing these beautiful pieces on his violin in the kitchen. Everything else just sort of stops and I find myself totally absorbed by the music. The first piece I don't recognize at all but I'm totally enthralled by it none the less. The second, I do recognize but it is being played in a way that I've never heard before. With additional notes, riffs and key changes. Surprisingly, the acoustics in the kitchen were pretty good and I'm not sure how long I was standing just listening but the whole experience was breath-taking. I would venture to say that this guy's playing was genius-- but what do I know about violinists? Suffice it to say that it made my week and it is not something that I think I'll forget any time soon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)