I don't know if this will ever see the light of day. It's October 27, 2018 and I woke up to the news of a mass shooting at a synagogue 6 miles from my apartment. Truth be told I had never heard of the "Tree of Life" synagogue until this morning, despite having done several walks through Squirrel Hill and Shadyside both with friends and for the annual ten commandments walk.
I say all this because this shooting didn't directly impact me. I say all this because while it had nothing to do with me, it's greatly impacted my city, some of my friends and my nation. There's something incredibly surreal about seeing every major news outlet you follow talk about streets you've walked in relation to a horrendous tragedy.
Today I walked the streets of Downtown quietly and mostly kept to myself, because the feeling I got this morning was eerily similar to a feeling I felt the morning after the Ariana Grande concert bombing in Manchester, England. If you're unfamiliar, I was on a 10-day workshop with the University of Salford Manchester and we were just wrapping up our stay when the bombing happened two miles from our hotel.
That bombing had nothing to do with us, or any of the lovely people we had met during our stay, but nonetheless we all mourned for this vibrant, cultural town where tragedy struck.
I said to several Pittsburgh outlets when they interviewed us - despite contributing nothing to the actual story - that Manchester is a lot like Pittsburgh. Manchester is at the tail end of a transition from industry to media making and culture. Pittsburgh has shifted to a meds-and-eds economy in a similar fashion.
In the case of the Tree of Life shooting this morning, this was a targeted hate crime by a wacko terrorist. Unnecessary, loud and senseless. There are similarities in both instances, but they were completely different motives, and different results.
I talked a lot in Manchester about how resilient the people there are, and how amazingly homey it felt in only 10 days. I drew all manner of parallels, but I did resolve that that was something I could leave. Horrible as it may sound, that was something I could isolate in my mind as a particular time, place and stage.
Pittsburgh, however, is and always has been my home.
Reading through Facebook today has been an exhausting venture. Both Pittsburgh natives and converts standing on a pulpit preaching about this political agenda or that personal grievance or what have you. For my part, I haven't posted anything beyond a Facebook profile frame thing, and marking myself "safe" for family that lives too far away to understand that Pittsburgh isn't just one big ol' street.
I'm not going to preach politics to you. I will, however, say what I said to my roommate this morning: I don't get it. I simply can't wrap my mind around how someone is able to completely disregard and devalue life due to religious or ethnic traits.
I feel as a society we are failing to recognize peoples' complexity. Your neighbor and your waitress and your mailman have real hopes and fears and loves and goals and heartache. All too often we reduce people to their actions or words in our presence, or worse yet - box them into a single, jaded stereotype.
I don't care where you're from or where you're going, but I want you to know that you are loved by somebody. This world of ours is dark, but through the perpetual clouds of Pittsburgh shine a bright light with bright, lovely people.
I'm reminded, especially as people share the "Pittsburgh Strong" image everywhere, of a poem that a writer in Manchester penned in 2012. He read it at the vigil in St. Albert's Square following the concert bombing and it's called "This is the Place." While it's written for Mancunians and some of the cultural differences are, well, out there, it's comforting and it's strikingly relatable.
We will rise. This city of ours. Because it's what we always will do.
Showing posts with label Weekends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Weekends. Show all posts
Saturday, October 27, 2018
Saturday, December 9, 2017
A Reason to Live and a Reason to Grow
It's been a while since I last posted here. Quite a while actually.
I've been so hesitant to openly express myself since the whole Carlynton clarification debacle, and it takes quite a bit of time for me to sit down and actually write outside the conventions of journalism and broadcasting and essays and the six other types of writing we're expected to do in college.
So why now? I'm in a transition period. As I said in my kind-of-out-there letter from the editor this week, I've been so obsessed with the bookends of life that I sometimes forget that life is the culmination of a bunch of small turns and moments and interactions.
I've learned quite a bit this semester about my craft, about the world and about myself. I'm transitioning my way out of one of the wildest stretches professionally I've worked within: the job of Editor-in-Chief of the Globe.
I can't say I was surprised by the amount of work that went into it - it reminded me a lot of being Senior Patrol Leader mixed with the journalistic training that I've been working on in some way, shape or form since I was in fourth grade.
What I did find surprising, and perhaps this is my own naivety, was the mixture of ego and apathy that I encountered - both among writers (or lack thereof) and the editors. I hired some fantastic folks to edit the paper, and I feel like that showed this semester. However, an inherent apathy towards collaboration frustrated me to no end. I had huge plans going into this semester and for a plethora of reasons, those never came to fruition.
It seems things start getting bad for me personally in October. This October I started feeling the effects of taking on as many jobs as I had, and for the first time that I can remember, I met that feeling with an allowance to be human for once. Have my grades suffered? Probably. Do I mind? No, because I can't - unlike so many folks I've seen before me - say that I'm burned out.
Burning out is significantly different than being exhausted. I will readily admit that I am incredibly exhausted being a full-time student, full-time editor, part-time television producer, part-time studio technician and ten thousand other things I usually forget to list.
Being burned out is getting to a point where you no longer want to do what you do - and have no motivation to change that feeling. Being burned out is laying down and resigning yourself to mediocrity. Being burned out is handing yourself over to vices and distracting yourself from facing the reality that you don't have any motivation to continue.
At least that's my rough colloquial definition.
At this juncture in my life, I still want to be a journalist, but I feel far more confident in my ability as a producer than I do as a reporter. I feel far more confident in my ability to craft, manage, write and produce content like the WESA noise story and the Carnegie-Carnegie VPK than I do crack open some wildly investigative thing. That's not to say I can't do it (because I can and would like greatly to do so), that's to say that I feel most comfortable working within a news/feature genre. I digress.
I've learned that pretending to be a social person results in being asked the same question over and over. In high school you're asked what college you're planning on going to. As you start college people ask - and still do - what you're studying. If you're particularly unlucky, you get the question: so what are you going to do with that? I'm almost a year out from graduation, and let me tell you, the closer the months get the more nervous I am of what's on the horizon.
Lately, however, the question my friends have been asking me is if I will be involved with the Globe after my term as EiC. While it makes sense to ask, I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to be doing. That's a combination of choices by Emily Bennett (the next Editor) and me (I applied to be news editor because I love laying out pages). But, as Gregory Alan Isakov's song says, "Time Will Tell."
I've been so hesitant to openly express myself since the whole Carlynton clarification debacle, and it takes quite a bit of time for me to sit down and actually write outside the conventions of journalism and broadcasting and essays and the six other types of writing we're expected to do in college.
So why now? I'm in a transition period. As I said in my kind-of-out-there letter from the editor this week, I've been so obsessed with the bookends of life that I sometimes forget that life is the culmination of a bunch of small turns and moments and interactions.
I've learned quite a bit this semester about my craft, about the world and about myself. I'm transitioning my way out of one of the wildest stretches professionally I've worked within: the job of Editor-in-Chief of the Globe.
I can't say I was surprised by the amount of work that went into it - it reminded me a lot of being Senior Patrol Leader mixed with the journalistic training that I've been working on in some way, shape or form since I was in fourth grade.
What I did find surprising, and perhaps this is my own naivety, was the mixture of ego and apathy that I encountered - both among writers (or lack thereof) and the editors. I hired some fantastic folks to edit the paper, and I feel like that showed this semester. However, an inherent apathy towards collaboration frustrated me to no end. I had huge plans going into this semester and for a plethora of reasons, those never came to fruition.
It seems things start getting bad for me personally in October. This October I started feeling the effects of taking on as many jobs as I had, and for the first time that I can remember, I met that feeling with an allowance to be human for once. Have my grades suffered? Probably. Do I mind? No, because I can't - unlike so many folks I've seen before me - say that I'm burned out.
Burning out is significantly different than being exhausted. I will readily admit that I am incredibly exhausted being a full-time student, full-time editor, part-time television producer, part-time studio technician and ten thousand other things I usually forget to list.
Being burned out is getting to a point where you no longer want to do what you do - and have no motivation to change that feeling. Being burned out is laying down and resigning yourself to mediocrity. Being burned out is handing yourself over to vices and distracting yourself from facing the reality that you don't have any motivation to continue.
At least that's my rough colloquial definition.
At this juncture in my life, I still want to be a journalist, but I feel far more confident in my ability as a producer than I do as a reporter. I feel far more confident in my ability to craft, manage, write and produce content like the WESA noise story and the Carnegie-Carnegie VPK than I do crack open some wildly investigative thing. That's not to say I can't do it (because I can and would like greatly to do so), that's to say that I feel most comfortable working within a news/feature genre. I digress.
I've learned that pretending to be a social person results in being asked the same question over and over. In high school you're asked what college you're planning on going to. As you start college people ask - and still do - what you're studying. If you're particularly unlucky, you get the question: so what are you going to do with that? I'm almost a year out from graduation, and let me tell you, the closer the months get the more nervous I am of what's on the horizon.
Lately, however, the question my friends have been asking me is if I will be involved with the Globe after my term as EiC. While it makes sense to ask, I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to be doing. That's a combination of choices by Emily Bennett (the next Editor) and me (I applied to be news editor because I love laying out pages). But, as Gregory Alan Isakov's song says, "Time Will Tell."
Wednesday, February 24, 2016
It's a Different Kind of Danger
It's February 24th, 2016. I last posted here quite a bit ago - it was the massive "Let's See How Far We've Come" update on my life and the year that was. Since I started school in August, I've met amazing people and have done some absolutely amazing things. That all being said, my life has been moving at high speed and things I should be doing (like keeping track of what is going on here) has fallen by the wayside.
Since starting a new semester, I've found quite a few things that I identify with, and quite a few things I cannot wrap my mind around. Contemporary Christianity still confuses my old-school self and the craft of journalism has taken on a new meaning to me. I have this crazy passionate broadcast professor who drilled into us day one the importance of journalism: to inform the electorate is the job of journalism and if you don't get that right and don't understand the importance of it you're not going to get along in this industry.
I haven't talked much about my journalistic fanaticism on here because it's more or less something I thought went without saying: I think what I'm doing is important because I feel it's going to help people. I'm not giving blankets to the homeless or anything (well, at least not professionally) but if I can bring attention to issues that impact people directly or can work to inform citizens what their elected officials are doing, in that way I can affect social change. One of the keys to this, as my professor has said, is going where people cannot and giving them information and experience.
Overall, the semester has been flying by, and I'm still loving every minute of it. I'm a host on two radio shows and I produce/write/created one (The Globe Live and On the Horizon respectively), I wandered into the world of television, and I am still involved in as many ways as possible with the newspaper. In other words, I value news and productivity over sleep because I can make a difference.
Speaking of newspapers, I'm happy to announce that I have been chosen to be the Globe's Editor Elect. What this means is for the calendar year 2016 I will be the assistant to the Editor-in-Chief, Josh Croup. Together we'll do editing stuff (like final proofs of the paper and other fun administrative work) but Croup handles all of the important high-up stuff whereas I follow his lead and provide support and such. In January of 2017, God willing, I will become Editor-in-Chief of the Globe, handling and shouldering the day-to-day operations of our humble campus newspaper.
Needless to say, this has been an involved application and approval process that I've been working on as early as November, but I'm proud to be able to announce it finally.
In completely unrelated news, I met Rick Sebak. He came to our campus yesterday for a screening of his most recent documentary, Return to Downtown Pittsburgh, complete with a Q&A session and reception. I was there as a Sebak fan, but also to cover it for the Globe. So stay tuned to the Globe website/newsstands for that whenever I write it, but bottom line he's just as awesome and fun as I had hoped.
He graciously let me interview him and talked about his documentaries, how this is only the second time there has been a screening, and how he didn't know how awesome Point Park was until he shot it and talked to our illustrious P. Henni (University President Dr. Paul Hennigan). In other words, I was geeking out the whole time because RICK FRICKIN SEBAK.
Does this man sound familiar? Like in this blog? Because if you've been reading for a while, you remember the 2014 Rick Sebak sighting in the South Side. If you don't you can read it here: http://2015blogger.blogspot.com/2014/02/i-can-show-you-what-you-wanna-see-and.html. TL;DR: I saw him on the street waiting for a bus after a WYEP excursion.
Speaking of WYEP, Reimagine media and I crossed paths yet again, but this time I was covering the Reimagination project for the Globe because, you guessed it, WYEP has teamed up with Point Park to do the project. So effectively it's 2014 all over again but with a newspaper and college and stuff.
So basically I'm living the life I've wanted to live for a while and it's quite fantastic - it's exhausting and stressful but I absolutely love it, and the people that surround me. When I posted my Editor-Elect announcement to Facebook, my phone exploded with notifications. I frankly didn't know that many people cared, but as of the time I write this post, 96 people have liked the status. That just doesn't happen. Meh, I digress.
I'm so glad to have these amazing people in my life and to be doing what I love in a place that's just awesome. Yeah, it's too expensive but that's another rant for another time. I'm living this crazy life that I'm excited to be a part of. I don't hate my roommate, I'm involved with stuff on campus, people (somehow) actually like me, and I met Rick Sebak. What more could I ask for right this second? Maybe a bit more sleep, but that's my own fault.
So to past me - somehow you've made it this far, and just continue to be your crazy big dreamer self. I'd give that same advice to my future self - don't stop dreaming and stay crazy.
I think I'll shut up now.
Since starting a new semester, I've found quite a few things that I identify with, and quite a few things I cannot wrap my mind around. Contemporary Christianity still confuses my old-school self and the craft of journalism has taken on a new meaning to me. I have this crazy passionate broadcast professor who drilled into us day one the importance of journalism: to inform the electorate is the job of journalism and if you don't get that right and don't understand the importance of it you're not going to get along in this industry.
I haven't talked much about my journalistic fanaticism on here because it's more or less something I thought went without saying: I think what I'm doing is important because I feel it's going to help people. I'm not giving blankets to the homeless or anything (well, at least not professionally) but if I can bring attention to issues that impact people directly or can work to inform citizens what their elected officials are doing, in that way I can affect social change. One of the keys to this, as my professor has said, is going where people cannot and giving them information and experience.
Overall, the semester has been flying by, and I'm still loving every minute of it. I'm a host on two radio shows and I produce/write/created one (The Globe Live and On the Horizon respectively), I wandered into the world of television, and I am still involved in as many ways as possible with the newspaper. In other words, I value news and productivity over sleep because I can make a difference.
Speaking of newspapers, I'm happy to announce that I have been chosen to be the Globe's Editor Elect. What this means is for the calendar year 2016 I will be the assistant to the Editor-in-Chief, Josh Croup. Together we'll do editing stuff (like final proofs of the paper and other fun administrative work) but Croup handles all of the important high-up stuff whereas I follow his lead and provide support and such. In January of 2017, God willing, I will become Editor-in-Chief of the Globe, handling and shouldering the day-to-day operations of our humble campus newspaper.
Needless to say, this has been an involved application and approval process that I've been working on as early as November, but I'm proud to be able to announce it finally.
In completely unrelated news, I met Rick Sebak. He came to our campus yesterday for a screening of his most recent documentary, Return to Downtown Pittsburgh, complete with a Q&A session and reception. I was there as a Sebak fan, but also to cover it for the Globe. So stay tuned to the Globe website/newsstands for that whenever I write it, but bottom line he's just as awesome and fun as I had hoped.
 |
| L-R: My roommate Vince, Beth, Me, and Rick Sebak himself |
He graciously let me interview him and talked about his documentaries, how this is only the second time there has been a screening, and how he didn't know how awesome Point Park was until he shot it and talked to our illustrious P. Henni (University President Dr. Paul Hennigan). In other words, I was geeking out the whole time because RICK FRICKIN SEBAK.
Does this man sound familiar? Like in this blog? Because if you've been reading for a while, you remember the 2014 Rick Sebak sighting in the South Side. If you don't you can read it here: http://2015blogger.blogspot.com/2014/02/i-can-show-you-what-you-wanna-see-and.html. TL;DR: I saw him on the street waiting for a bus after a WYEP excursion.
Speaking of WYEP, Reimagine media and I crossed paths yet again, but this time I was covering the Reimagination project for the Globe because, you guessed it, WYEP has teamed up with Point Park to do the project. So effectively it's 2014 all over again but with a newspaper and college and stuff.
So basically I'm living the life I've wanted to live for a while and it's quite fantastic - it's exhausting and stressful but I absolutely love it, and the people that surround me. When I posted my Editor-Elect announcement to Facebook, my phone exploded with notifications. I frankly didn't know that many people cared, but as of the time I write this post, 96 people have liked the status. That just doesn't happen. Meh, I digress.
I'm so glad to have these amazing people in my life and to be doing what I love in a place that's just awesome. Yeah, it's too expensive but that's another rant for another time. I'm living this crazy life that I'm excited to be a part of. I don't hate my roommate, I'm involved with stuff on campus, people (somehow) actually like me, and I met Rick Sebak. What more could I ask for right this second? Maybe a bit more sleep, but that's my own fault.
So to past me - somehow you've made it this far, and just continue to be your crazy big dreamer self. I'd give that same advice to my future self - don't stop dreaming and stay crazy.
I think I'll shut up now.
Monday, September 28, 2015
On Education and the Wealth Gap
If this seems a bit different than my average post, it's because it's for a class... Sorry for breaking the fourth wall (then again, I usually do that. I just never talk about why I blog. Semi-related: I don't think I've ever blogged specifically for a class.).
Anyway, I recently read an article by John Marsh in my English book about access to higher education and its relation to poverty. Interesting topic, in my opinion, but that's perhaps because I'm directly impacted by the whole higher education discussion, and I've thought a lot about income inequality.
Basically the argument is that access to programs to help boost enrollment/education don't do anything in the grand scheme of fighting poverty and income inequality. He argues that programs like his, the Odyssey Project, which are aimed at getting gen eds out of the way and giving people who wouldn't otherwise have access to higher education get a jump start, are ineffective.
I have no personal experience with such projects, so I researched the link between education levels in general with income inequality. The goal was to settle it, because frankly I thought Marsh's argument was pretty solid - education guarantees nothing except education. We'd like to think that the fairy tale of keep-up-with-education-go-fight-win is true. Unfortunately the data shows that just isn't true. Education, per the studies I researched [side note: if you're really curious, I found three studies that I used for these conclusions: one by Andreas Bergh, and Günther Fink, one by Ronald H. Carlson, and Christopher S. McChesney, and then one by the amazingly named duo of Péter Földvári, and Bas van Leeuwen.] doesn't guarantee income increases beyond the standard of living/average wage earning. In other words, that bachelor's diploma is a life raft in the world of wages and anything below that is just bobbing in the open water.
The researchers found that the higher the education, the higher the wage (duh) but what it proved wasn't the case was that education causes any real upward mobility, just a promise of stability.
I point that out for two reasons: 1) it's important for the argument and 2) I'll be able to sleep tonight knowing that this expensive college adventure is worth something more income wise than the Carlynton High School diploma collecting dust on my mantle at home.
Anyway, I recently read an article by John Marsh in my English book about access to higher education and its relation to poverty. Interesting topic, in my opinion, but that's perhaps because I'm directly impacted by the whole higher education discussion, and I've thought a lot about income inequality.
Basically the argument is that access to programs to help boost enrollment/education don't do anything in the grand scheme of fighting poverty and income inequality. He argues that programs like his, the Odyssey Project, which are aimed at getting gen eds out of the way and giving people who wouldn't otherwise have access to higher education get a jump start, are ineffective.
I have no personal experience with such projects, so I researched the link between education levels in general with income inequality. The goal was to settle it, because frankly I thought Marsh's argument was pretty solid - education guarantees nothing except education. We'd like to think that the fairy tale of keep-up-with-education-go-fight-win is true. Unfortunately the data shows that just isn't true. Education, per the studies I researched [side note: if you're really curious, I found three studies that I used for these conclusions: one by Andreas Bergh, and Günther Fink, one by Ronald H. Carlson, and Christopher S. McChesney, and then one by the amazingly named duo of Péter Földvári, and Bas van Leeuwen.] doesn't guarantee income increases beyond the standard of living/average wage earning. In other words, that bachelor's diploma is a life raft in the world of wages and anything below that is just bobbing in the open water.
The researchers found that the higher the education, the higher the wage (duh) but what it proved wasn't the case was that education causes any real upward mobility, just a promise of stability.
I point that out for two reasons: 1) it's important for the argument and 2) I'll be able to sleep tonight knowing that this expensive college adventure is worth something more income wise than the Carlynton High School diploma collecting dust on my mantle at home.
The research is solid, and found that the wage gap is a thing (duh), it's widening (duh, just ask the Occupy people circa 2012), and education cannot be considered a cure for income inequality. The one study concerned itself mainly with enrollment figures and public funding. In other words, aid programs not unlike Marsh's Odyssey Project but more tax based, did not boost enrollment. In other words, these programs are ineffective at getting people in the door, let alone having them succeed in their bachelor's, which as previously established, doesn't guarantee much of anything past an education.
Education is important, and knowledge (especially applicable knowledge) is extremely important but it isn't the cure for the financial social ills of the world. I want to say this much though, it could be used as an aid in combating a major social ill of the world: mass ignorance and stupidity.
I didn't want to depress you entirely, but I wanted to impress this much: education shouldn't be used as a mass cure for poverty. It's a fairy tale that someone somewhere started to get policies changed to force people into education without questioning it. I say we need to question education, and the education system in general, but I've said that for years. I just ask that you not consider it a cure for poverty, because it isn't.
Friday, August 14, 2015
And I would Fly 500 Miles...
So it's been a while. Hi! I'm not dead. I'm down four wisdom teeth and almost moved out for college, but other than that not too much is different. I'm still me, you're still you, right? Right.
So last week I traveled alongside my aunt and mother to one of the greatest cities in the world, Chicago Illinois. I know what you're thinking: the midwest? Why? I'll tell you why: THE BEAN.
Okay, I'm kidding, we didn't fly a third of the way across the country just to see a bean, even if it is a majestic stainless steel sculpture of awesome. We did a heck of a lot of cool stuff in not a lot of time. That Wednesday morning we flew out from Pittsburgh International and landed at Midway around 7:00 AM Central. Time travelling (or traversing time zones to be more accurate) is an amazingly cool and disorienting thing. Especially when your wristwatch refuses to get with the program and change from EDT to CDT, but that's a whole other rant.
We took the Orange line into the Loop, which in hindsight is about the size of Downtown Pittsburgh. Plus: it's walkable and flat Minus: you walk way more than you realize and are exhausted by the end of it. But oh well.
That first day we went to Millennium Park (Home of the Bean), the Art Institute of Chicago (Home of a friendly cashier who made me realize I have a weird accent when it comes to saying the word "pin" versus "pen" as well as home to American Gothic and other famous art such), Giordano's Pizza (home of amazing deep dish pizza), the Briar Street Theater (home of the Blue Man Group), and then the Club Quarters hotel (temporary home of us). We got up around 4 AM Eastern to fly out, which is 3 AM central and finally got to the hotel to sleep around midnight central, or 1 AM Eastern. It was an exhausting but amazing day.
Day two was just as busy. I had amazing french toast at Wildberry Pancakes and Cafe on East Randolph. We took an architecture boat ride through the city of Chicago along the Chicago River. We also stumbled upon, and longtime followers of my blog will appreciate this, THE 2015 CHICAGO RUBBER DUCKY DERBY! They had a giant (not really) rubber duck and launched THOUSANDS of them off of a drawbridge and it was amazing and seriously the ONE time I go to Chicago we just so happen to find a ducky derby. (Confused yet? Click Here...). I took a detour to the Chicago Cultural Center (home of a GAR hall with an awesome dome and another hall with another awesome dome), another pilgrimage to the bean because THE BEAN! and that evening we travelled north to Wrigley Field to watch the Cubs take on the Giants.
I'm not a Cubs fan, and I'm not a Giants fan. I am a self-diagnosed stubborn Pirates fan. So it's really weird going into a ballyard you don't know to see two teams you A) don't really care about and B) don't know really at all to watch them play. But it's Wrigley Field so you have to. So what are you to do, root against the home team? If you ask the random sea of Giants Fans around us yes you do. Or you could just cheer for everyone without worry because it doesn't matter.
Unless of course you're worried about the Buccos' Wild Card Chances. Which, after seeing the Cards series I suddenly am...
Three years ago I read a great book about Chicago and the 1892 World Fair. It's called "Devil in the White City" by Erik Larsen. Good Swedish name, though I doubt he's Swedish. Anyway, the worlds fair took place on the same plane longitudinally as Midway Airport (Midway = Midway Plaissance).. Most of buildings from the amazing worlds fair that debuted Tesla's Alternating Current and, you know, the Ferris Wheel, have burned to the ground. They all have, except for the Palace of Fine Arts. It was fireproof (a marvel of its time) and now houses the Museum of Science and Industry. So on the third day we trekked south in search of the Worlds Fair. I didn't realize how freaking huge this place was until I got there. It was overwhelming and amazing (both in architecture and size and the cool exhibits they had there - I sat in a combine harvester!) and so I wandered about a bit, and before catching the Metra north ran all the way around the building (which, much to MSI's credit, they've kept intact from the 1893 detailing) to look out over Jackson Park, a place I must explore next time I'm in Chicago. Because it's beautiful and haunting. Exactly as I hoped it would be. The world nowadays has no real place for worlds fairs - innovations are debuted on large stages and in keynote addresses by men in turtlenecks, but it's important to realize that there was a time where you had to travel to see the new. It wasn't just beamed at you or around you, you had to get your ticket, hitch up a wagon or train to see the impressive marvels of technology.
The rest of our last day in Chicago was spent wandering about the Navy Pier, which jettisons out into Lake Michigan complete with (of course) a ferris wheel, and some interesting oddities including the studios of WBEZ (this American Life, Wait Wait Don't Tell Me, and most other awesome things to come from Public Radio) and a museum dedicated to stained glass from Tiffany & Co.
Standing at the edge of the Navy Pier overlooking Lake Michigan is nowhere near as inspiring as looking out over the Atlantic Ocean from Bethany Beach, Delaware. But much like the rest of the marvel that is Chicago it forces you to compare and to examine. The city was planned after a fire, and has three layers, so the top layer - what us tourists see and the wayward streetgoers do - is always clean and pristine. Below is the through traffic, and below that is trash collection world and the trains. Chicago as a whole is planned to the T, and is a constant experiment of pushing higher (inventing the skyscraper) and more practically than you could think possible.
In conclusion, I love it there. It's too dang flat for me to even begin to compare it to my beloved Pittsburgh, but at the same time there is something to be said for flying in and seeing the city far beyond a sunrise summer haze over Midway.
Chicago is an inspiring place that forces you to think about human possibility. How the hell do you eat this gigantic deep dish pizza? Why do so many people flock to the bean? How did a city known for slaughterhouses and fire rise from its bloodied messy past and become an awesome and clean metropolis? It's a wonder of its own, and I've never experienced anything quite like it.
I give all credit to my amazing Aunt and Uncle who made this possible. For my tolerant mother for letting us drag her around Chicago, and even to a baseball game (I love it, she hates it) and to the giant rubber duck, to which we owe credit for all awesome and dorky things.
You just knew I'd find some way to circle it back to the Giant Duck....
If you'd like to see any of the pictures I took of this trip, I made an album on Flickr like usual: https://www.flickr.com/photos/alexanderpopichak/albums/72157656832984110
So last week I traveled alongside my aunt and mother to one of the greatest cities in the world, Chicago Illinois. I know what you're thinking: the midwest? Why? I'll tell you why: THE BEAN.
Okay, I'm kidding, we didn't fly a third of the way across the country just to see a bean, even if it is a majestic stainless steel sculpture of awesome. We did a heck of a lot of cool stuff in not a lot of time. That Wednesday morning we flew out from Pittsburgh International and landed at Midway around 7:00 AM Central. Time travelling (or traversing time zones to be more accurate) is an amazingly cool and disorienting thing. Especially when your wristwatch refuses to get with the program and change from EDT to CDT, but that's a whole other rant.
We took the Orange line into the Loop, which in hindsight is about the size of Downtown Pittsburgh. Plus: it's walkable and flat Minus: you walk way more than you realize and are exhausted by the end of it. But oh well.
That first day we went to Millennium Park (Home of the Bean), the Art Institute of Chicago (Home of a friendly cashier who made me realize I have a weird accent when it comes to saying the word "pin" versus "pen" as well as home to American Gothic and other famous art such), Giordano's Pizza (home of amazing deep dish pizza), the Briar Street Theater (home of the Blue Man Group), and then the Club Quarters hotel (temporary home of us). We got up around 4 AM Eastern to fly out, which is 3 AM central and finally got to the hotel to sleep around midnight central, or 1 AM Eastern. It was an exhausting but amazing day.
Day two was just as busy. I had amazing french toast at Wildberry Pancakes and Cafe on East Randolph. We took an architecture boat ride through the city of Chicago along the Chicago River. We also stumbled upon, and longtime followers of my blog will appreciate this, THE 2015 CHICAGO RUBBER DUCKY DERBY! They had a giant (not really) rubber duck and launched THOUSANDS of them off of a drawbridge and it was amazing and seriously the ONE time I go to Chicago we just so happen to find a ducky derby. (Confused yet? Click Here...). I took a detour to the Chicago Cultural Center (home of a GAR hall with an awesome dome and another hall with another awesome dome), another pilgrimage to the bean because THE BEAN! and that evening we travelled north to Wrigley Field to watch the Cubs take on the Giants.
I'm not a Cubs fan, and I'm not a Giants fan. I am a self-diagnosed stubborn Pirates fan. So it's really weird going into a ballyard you don't know to see two teams you A) don't really care about and B) don't know really at all to watch them play. But it's Wrigley Field so you have to. So what are you to do, root against the home team? If you ask the random sea of Giants Fans around us yes you do. Or you could just cheer for everyone without worry because it doesn't matter.
Unless of course you're worried about the Buccos' Wild Card Chances. Which, after seeing the Cards series I suddenly am...
Three years ago I read a great book about Chicago and the 1892 World Fair. It's called "Devil in the White City" by Erik Larsen. Good Swedish name, though I doubt he's Swedish. Anyway, the worlds fair took place on the same plane longitudinally as Midway Airport (Midway = Midway Plaissance).. Most of buildings from the amazing worlds fair that debuted Tesla's Alternating Current and, you know, the Ferris Wheel, have burned to the ground. They all have, except for the Palace of Fine Arts. It was fireproof (a marvel of its time) and now houses the Museum of Science and Industry. So on the third day we trekked south in search of the Worlds Fair. I didn't realize how freaking huge this place was until I got there. It was overwhelming and amazing (both in architecture and size and the cool exhibits they had there - I sat in a combine harvester!) and so I wandered about a bit, and before catching the Metra north ran all the way around the building (which, much to MSI's credit, they've kept intact from the 1893 detailing) to look out over Jackson Park, a place I must explore next time I'm in Chicago. Because it's beautiful and haunting. Exactly as I hoped it would be. The world nowadays has no real place for worlds fairs - innovations are debuted on large stages and in keynote addresses by men in turtlenecks, but it's important to realize that there was a time where you had to travel to see the new. It wasn't just beamed at you or around you, you had to get your ticket, hitch up a wagon or train to see the impressive marvels of technology.
The rest of our last day in Chicago was spent wandering about the Navy Pier, which jettisons out into Lake Michigan complete with (of course) a ferris wheel, and some interesting oddities including the studios of WBEZ (this American Life, Wait Wait Don't Tell Me, and most other awesome things to come from Public Radio) and a museum dedicated to stained glass from Tiffany & Co.
Standing at the edge of the Navy Pier overlooking Lake Michigan is nowhere near as inspiring as looking out over the Atlantic Ocean from Bethany Beach, Delaware. But much like the rest of the marvel that is Chicago it forces you to compare and to examine. The city was planned after a fire, and has three layers, so the top layer - what us tourists see and the wayward streetgoers do - is always clean and pristine. Below is the through traffic, and below that is trash collection world and the trains. Chicago as a whole is planned to the T, and is a constant experiment of pushing higher (inventing the skyscraper) and more practically than you could think possible.
In conclusion, I love it there. It's too dang flat for me to even begin to compare it to my beloved Pittsburgh, but at the same time there is something to be said for flying in and seeing the city far beyond a sunrise summer haze over Midway.
Chicago is an inspiring place that forces you to think about human possibility. How the hell do you eat this gigantic deep dish pizza? Why do so many people flock to the bean? How did a city known for slaughterhouses and fire rise from its bloodied messy past and become an awesome and clean metropolis? It's a wonder of its own, and I've never experienced anything quite like it.
I give all credit to my amazing Aunt and Uncle who made this possible. For my tolerant mother for letting us drag her around Chicago, and even to a baseball game (I love it, she hates it) and to the giant rubber duck, to which we owe credit for all awesome and dorky things.
You just knew I'd find some way to circle it back to the Giant Duck....
If you'd like to see any of the pictures I took of this trip, I made an album on Flickr like usual: https://www.flickr.com/photos/alexanderpopichak/albums/72157656832984110
Sunday, June 28, 2015
A Whirlwind
I'm writing on a Sunday. Which is weird. I didn't even really sleep in, which while not being weird, but I'm home, which is. Nevertheless, hi. How are you? I haven't written here in a while [since graduation] so here goes nothing:
So you graduate. You pick up your diploma and report card and that's it. It's an incredibly strange feeling to be "done" with something. To me, a person with a constant stream of unfinished projects, it's unsettling, but what choice do you have? So what did I do? That night, I invited some of my friends from high school over to my front porch and we chatted. More people came, and by the end of it, it was 1 in the morning. Then came the parade of graduation parties. I'm a broke college kid, so I can't exactly contribute the money people contribute towards grad parties or whatever, so I do my best to attend every one I am invited to, and share some time.
Graduation parties are very strange traditions. For the most part, the graduate is trying to greet and send off people as they come in and out. The goal, I guess, is to get a chance to speak a bit with everyone. But in reality, the attendants don't actually get to speak with the graduate much. They just kind of show up, say hi, eat food, chat a bit, and then, I don't know, in my case it was usually appear at another grad party. And so if you're in attendance, your best bet is to go with someone you already know so you can talk to them, and then visit with the graduate as much as their schedule allows. This was the philosophy for mine about a week ago. I visited with everyone, that was my point. I cared only that they ate food (because there was so much and like that's what people do) and that I talked with them. Family and the sort insisted on giving cards and while that was nice, it was successful in that I got to talk with everyone in one place for once. It was nice. Exhausting, but nice.
This past Thursday and Friday (25th and 26th of June if you're as lost as me) was spent at my future home, Point Park University for their orientation. What I've found is that anymore colleges have stopped calling their orientations orientation, and Point Park calls theirs the "Pioneer Experience" which I guess hold true. The attendees of PPU are Pioneers, the mascot is the bison, I don't get it but I don't have to. And boy was that an experience. It started mid-day and I wasn't back in my overnight dorm until 1AM. I met several awesome people, and from the time I walked on campus I was pretty okay with spending more than one night there, but like it only lasts two days so I have to wait until August.
The cost of higher education is absolutely insane, and while I don't think any amount of fancy schooliness can justify the pricetag, at least from what I've seen so far Point Park does the best to start you working on your major and in the field now. This was extremely important to me from the start of the college search, and I feel like I made the right decision. Or the best, considering how high and dry we are left after high school. We'll see if it stays that way, but for now, I'm excited and looking to the future with optimism.
So you graduate. You pick up your diploma and report card and that's it. It's an incredibly strange feeling to be "done" with something. To me, a person with a constant stream of unfinished projects, it's unsettling, but what choice do you have? So what did I do? That night, I invited some of my friends from high school over to my front porch and we chatted. More people came, and by the end of it, it was 1 in the morning. Then came the parade of graduation parties. I'm a broke college kid, so I can't exactly contribute the money people contribute towards grad parties or whatever, so I do my best to attend every one I am invited to, and share some time.
Graduation parties are very strange traditions. For the most part, the graduate is trying to greet and send off people as they come in and out. The goal, I guess, is to get a chance to speak a bit with everyone. But in reality, the attendants don't actually get to speak with the graduate much. They just kind of show up, say hi, eat food, chat a bit, and then, I don't know, in my case it was usually appear at another grad party. And so if you're in attendance, your best bet is to go with someone you already know so you can talk to them, and then visit with the graduate as much as their schedule allows. This was the philosophy for mine about a week ago. I visited with everyone, that was my point. I cared only that they ate food (because there was so much and like that's what people do) and that I talked with them. Family and the sort insisted on giving cards and while that was nice, it was successful in that I got to talk with everyone in one place for once. It was nice. Exhausting, but nice.
This past Thursday and Friday (25th and 26th of June if you're as lost as me) was spent at my future home, Point Park University for their orientation. What I've found is that anymore colleges have stopped calling their orientations orientation, and Point Park calls theirs the "Pioneer Experience" which I guess hold true. The attendees of PPU are Pioneers, the mascot is the bison, I don't get it but I don't have to. And boy was that an experience. It started mid-day and I wasn't back in my overnight dorm until 1AM. I met several awesome people, and from the time I walked on campus I was pretty okay with spending more than one night there, but like it only lasts two days so I have to wait until August.
The cost of higher education is absolutely insane, and while I don't think any amount of fancy schooliness can justify the pricetag, at least from what I've seen so far Point Park does the best to start you working on your major and in the field now. This was extremely important to me from the start of the college search, and I feel like I made the right decision. Or the best, considering how high and dry we are left after high school. We'll see if it stays that way, but for now, I'm excited and looking to the future with optimism.
Thursday, February 12, 2015
This Message Brought to You by the Junior Chamber of Commerce Players
I plan on writing three posts: This one, one on Valentines Day, and another on my Eagle COH... We'll see if that actually happens.
So this past Saturday brought me a multitude of increasingly bizarre things.
I began the day at the Espy Post giving tours. I began about 10 minutes early by request and stayed almost 40 minutes late because there was a steady stream of people. What the library had neglected to tell me was that there was an article about the post published in the Tribune-Review the week prior. When publicity hits, people appear out of nowhere. They also had someone shadow me as I did my tours. By 'they' I mean the library executive director so there's that.
The next part of my day took me to Greentree for an ecumenical service for scouts. Generally the first Saturday in February is reserved as Scout Sunday, but for some reason this year they had it on a Saturday. It was held in an LDS Church. I've written about denomination and religion on here before, but if you were to place it on a spectrum of old-timey ancient philosophy to newer ideas, we are pretty far from one another.* The Orthodox haven't changed much of anything in 2,000 years and relative to that they're pretty new-age. But that's okay, just not what I'm used to.
I changed groups of people and then things got weird.
That night a group of us decided to go to the Hollywood Theater in Dormont to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show with a shadow cast. Let me make three things abundantly clear: 1) I had never seen Rocky Horror before in any capacity 2) I wasn't exactly sure what it was about past what I gleamed from IMDb and had seen in Perks of Being A Wallflower 3) I had decided when I saw Perks that I wanted to see this eventually, and I wanted that to be the first time I saw Rocky Horror in any capacity.
So that's exactly what happened. We showed up quite early and took up the first row, danced with the shadowcast, and it was amazing. The show started at midnight and by the time I got home it was 3 AM (and got back up at 745 for church), but it was totally worth it. It was wacky, inappropriate, and downright fun. The group that does it call themselves the Junior Chamber of Commerce Players (http://www.steelcityrockyhorror.com/) and do a fantastic job of shadowcasting it (Granted, I've never seen shadowcasts before, I've only seen casts in plays and musicals, etc). If you don't know, they play the film up on the screen while the cast acts out the show on a makeshift stage in front. This is complete with costumes, outrageous props, and impromptu dialogue.
It was again one of those surreal, fantastic experiences that I entirely recommend to anyone willing to have a fun time. They have a set of rules, and the first rule (per their website) is: Rule #1. This show is about fun. If you're not having fun, you're doing something wrong. And that's true, it's a whole lot of fun. AND IT WAS ONLY $8! So go.
I noticed when I was doing the bit of research to write this that I'm apparently on their homepage. Cool.
So this past Saturday brought me a multitude of increasingly bizarre things.
I began the day at the Espy Post giving tours. I began about 10 minutes early by request and stayed almost 40 minutes late because there was a steady stream of people. What the library had neglected to tell me was that there was an article about the post published in the Tribune-Review the week prior. When publicity hits, people appear out of nowhere. They also had someone shadow me as I did my tours. By 'they' I mean the library executive director so there's that.
The next part of my day took me to Greentree for an ecumenical service for scouts. Generally the first Saturday in February is reserved as Scout Sunday, but for some reason this year they had it on a Saturday. It was held in an LDS Church. I've written about denomination and religion on here before, but if you were to place it on a spectrum of old-timey ancient philosophy to newer ideas, we are pretty far from one another.* The Orthodox haven't changed much of anything in 2,000 years and relative to that they're pretty new-age. But that's okay, just not what I'm used to.
I changed groups of people and then things got weird.
That night a group of us decided to go to the Hollywood Theater in Dormont to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show with a shadow cast. Let me make three things abundantly clear: 1) I had never seen Rocky Horror before in any capacity 2) I wasn't exactly sure what it was about past what I gleamed from IMDb and had seen in Perks of Being A Wallflower 3) I had decided when I saw Perks that I wanted to see this eventually, and I wanted that to be the first time I saw Rocky Horror in any capacity.
So that's exactly what happened. We showed up quite early and took up the first row, danced with the shadowcast, and it was amazing. The show started at midnight and by the time I got home it was 3 AM (and got back up at 745 for church), but it was totally worth it. It was wacky, inappropriate, and downright fun. The group that does it call themselves the Junior Chamber of Commerce Players (http://www.steelcityrockyhorror.com/) and do a fantastic job of shadowcasting it (Granted, I've never seen shadowcasts before, I've only seen casts in plays and musicals, etc). If you don't know, they play the film up on the screen while the cast acts out the show on a makeshift stage in front. This is complete with costumes, outrageous props, and impromptu dialogue.
It was again one of those surreal, fantastic experiences that I entirely recommend to anyone willing to have a fun time. They have a set of rules, and the first rule (per their website) is: Rule #1. This show is about fun. If you're not having fun, you're doing something wrong. And that's true, it's a whole lot of fun. AND IT WAS ONLY $8! So go.
I noticed when I was doing the bit of research to write this that I'm apparently on their homepage. Cool.
 |
| Yep, That's half of Clay, Me, Elliot, Abby, and half of Alec on their page... |
Sunday, February 1, 2015
Something Shiny
So I finally have my computer working. Sort of. Basically I reinstalled the OS and started over. Not really an answer, but alright, whatever.
It's a requirement for the graduation project at Carlynton to either do an interview or job shadow. I thought it would be a lot more beneficial to do a job shadow, so I decided to ask my Aunt Marie (of John Green, KDKA fame) if she would ask around KDKA and see if anyone would be willing to let me shadow them.
I want to break here and say honestly: I had no idea what I wanted to do really. I just knew I wanted to go into journalism of some sort. I was open to shadowing any form of reporter, editor, or whatever. My aunt suggested feature reporter Dave Crawley and he agreed.
So this past Tuesday I went on a job shadow. Dave Crawley (we learned after like a half hour of twiddling my thumbs at his desk) apparently was on vacation in Columbus, so I wandered into the 9 am meeting with no one to really shadow.
The 9 AM meeting is where the 4, 5, and 6 o clock news truly starts. Reporters converge in a conference room and the assignments are handed out: reporters take stories, and photographers are assigned to those reporters fitting the need (ie if they need a live truck versus a regular van without the mast). Following the meeting (which was actually pretty fun. I've heard horror stories about morning meetings, but these seem pretty chill) I went back to Dave Crawley's desk. His desk is across from Heather Abraham's desk, who was working on a piece for sweeps and was explaining how that process works. She's a morning reporter and is a very kind person answering a lot of my strange questions. His desk is also next to Lynne Hayes-Freeland, who started talking to me about what was going on. I asked her if she'd be willing to have me shadow her for the day, and she kindly agreed.
Her assignment for the day was a follow up on the previous day's story about guns at a Propel charter school. She was looking for a direction to take the follow up, seeing as both suspects were in custody and no official word had come from Propel about changes (or lack thereof) to their security policy. So she looked at another angle - the parents.
She reached out to different people and waited for a response. In the meantime, one of the news director people took me aside and showed me how the microwave/broadcast trucks get from really tall mast to television screens. Basically, there are towers in every nearby county that they beam to, and with those towers they can either take in the live feed, or record their video packages.
I then talked to a producer (she was producing the noon news, which was about a half hour away) who showed me the insane program that connects assignments to reporters and anchors and directors and basically the thing that makes the news run. Each story has a spot, a source, and a script to accompany that. It's a lot of moving parts and she says for the noon news she starts at 6AM scripting.
Since we hadn't heard back from anyone about the gun story, I was then taken to the control room to watch the noon news. About 3 minutes before the broadcast, Ms. Hayes-Freeland told me that there was good news, and bad news. Bad news was that we had to go interview someone. Now. The good news was that I could watch the 4, 5, and 6 o clock news from the control room.
I met up with her and the photographer (who fittingly enough is the father of a former scout in our troop) and we went to interview two parents with two separate opinions.
When we got back to the station (around 2 at this point) we had nothing to do but wait for the stuff to upload to the server, so I took a lunch break. When I came back I listened to the footage we had and she gave me an assignment: see what sound bites I would use if it were my story. We picked entirely different clips from the same footage. Interesting.
She shared her script for the story, and then introduced me to an editor, Kenny (not editing our story, but something for the 6). I spend about half an hour with him and he was about to hand me the reigns (which I honestly didn't have a clue how to use the final cut/premiere/after effects hybrid) when I was tapped to watch the 4 o'clock news from the control room. I watched the 5 from the telepromter/camera operation area. All in all it was a fantastic day, I learned a lot about the industry ("you do realize this is a dying field" - I was told this at least three times) and saw a newscast from start to finish. It was amazing and kinda confirmed that this is what I want to do with my life.
So again I'd like to thank my aunt, Ms. Hayes-Freeland, Mr. Colabine, Kenny, Erin Shea, and everyone else who made it possible for me to have this experience. It was the most exciting day of my week at the very least.
PICTURE TIME!!!
It's a requirement for the graduation project at Carlynton to either do an interview or job shadow. I thought it would be a lot more beneficial to do a job shadow, so I decided to ask my Aunt Marie (of John Green, KDKA fame) if she would ask around KDKA and see if anyone would be willing to let me shadow them.
I want to break here and say honestly: I had no idea what I wanted to do really. I just knew I wanted to go into journalism of some sort. I was open to shadowing any form of reporter, editor, or whatever. My aunt suggested feature reporter Dave Crawley and he agreed.
So this past Tuesday I went on a job shadow. Dave Crawley (we learned after like a half hour of twiddling my thumbs at his desk) apparently was on vacation in Columbus, so I wandered into the 9 am meeting with no one to really shadow.
The 9 AM meeting is where the 4, 5, and 6 o clock news truly starts. Reporters converge in a conference room and the assignments are handed out: reporters take stories, and photographers are assigned to those reporters fitting the need (ie if they need a live truck versus a regular van without the mast). Following the meeting (which was actually pretty fun. I've heard horror stories about morning meetings, but these seem pretty chill) I went back to Dave Crawley's desk. His desk is across from Heather Abraham's desk, who was working on a piece for sweeps and was explaining how that process works. She's a morning reporter and is a very kind person answering a lot of my strange questions. His desk is also next to Lynne Hayes-Freeland, who started talking to me about what was going on. I asked her if she'd be willing to have me shadow her for the day, and she kindly agreed.
Her assignment for the day was a follow up on the previous day's story about guns at a Propel charter school. She was looking for a direction to take the follow up, seeing as both suspects were in custody and no official word had come from Propel about changes (or lack thereof) to their security policy. So she looked at another angle - the parents.
She reached out to different people and waited for a response. In the meantime, one of the news director people took me aside and showed me how the microwave/broadcast trucks get from really tall mast to television screens. Basically, there are towers in every nearby county that they beam to, and with those towers they can either take in the live feed, or record their video packages.
I then talked to a producer (she was producing the noon news, which was about a half hour away) who showed me the insane program that connects assignments to reporters and anchors and directors and basically the thing that makes the news run. Each story has a spot, a source, and a script to accompany that. It's a lot of moving parts and she says for the noon news she starts at 6AM scripting.
Since we hadn't heard back from anyone about the gun story, I was then taken to the control room to watch the noon news. About 3 minutes before the broadcast, Ms. Hayes-Freeland told me that there was good news, and bad news. Bad news was that we had to go interview someone. Now. The good news was that I could watch the 4, 5, and 6 o clock news from the control room.
I met up with her and the photographer (who fittingly enough is the father of a former scout in our troop) and we went to interview two parents with two separate opinions.
When we got back to the station (around 2 at this point) we had nothing to do but wait for the stuff to upload to the server, so I took a lunch break. When I came back I listened to the footage we had and she gave me an assignment: see what sound bites I would use if it were my story. We picked entirely different clips from the same footage. Interesting.
She shared her script for the story, and then introduced me to an editor, Kenny (not editing our story, but something for the 6). I spend about half an hour with him and he was about to hand me the reigns (which I honestly didn't have a clue how to use the final cut/premiere/after effects hybrid) when I was tapped to watch the 4 o'clock news from the control room. I watched the 5 from the telepromter/camera operation area. All in all it was a fantastic day, I learned a lot about the industry ("you do realize this is a dying field" - I was told this at least three times) and saw a newscast from start to finish. It was amazing and kinda confirmed that this is what I want to do with my life.
So again I'd like to thank my aunt, Ms. Hayes-Freeland, Mr. Colabine, Kenny, Erin Shea, and everyone else who made it possible for me to have this experience. It was the most exciting day of my week at the very least.
PICTURE TIME!!!
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| The Teleprompter Deck |
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| Look at All Those Monitors (Control Room) |
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| The View from the Teleprompter Deck |
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| The Robotic Camera System |
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| This is the KDKA 5 O'Clock News Pano |
Saturday, October 25, 2014
This Has Been Alexander Popichak Speaking For The Carlynton Marching Band
Yesterday was the end of an era for me, it was Senior Night at Carlynton and with that, my last football game with the band.
Three years ago I signed up to be the announcer of the band. Since then, I've attended football games home and away, and more band festivals then I knew existed. It was a blast, honestly. What started as just something to do became a part of my life, and the gaining of a family I never expected. It was because of this that I was able to do three years of homecoming court bios, senior nights, a year of soccer, and emceeing three band festivals.
Last night I was given a gift by my section member (the section of the sectionless) Abbie (best friend to my girlfriend and all around amazing band manager) an awesome gift - a decorated hatbox for my crazy marching band helmet as well as a bag of Three Musketeers.
I again read (this time half) of senior night - for my seniors, the class of 2015. Then it was my turn to have my name and biography read as I walked down the field. It was the first time I had ever walked down the middle of the field that I can remember, and I was met at the end by Mr. Obidowski, Mr. Loughren, and Mr. McAdoo. It was surreal to say the least. The band cheered, and then I was back to whatever it was I was doing. Back to the student section for one last time to cheer on one last Carlynton Loss.
We lost, but we cheered anyway. I hung by the band one last time with the people I had grown to appreciate, the people that had taken me in as their own.
I wrote two weeks ago about living in the moment, and about taking it in. I did, and it was fantastic. Nothing was different except the beginning and the end. I took along with me to the box Sara and Cassie. They had never been there, and I offered to any senior the chance to go. So I did my thing, and I added one thing to the end of my regular script:
Three years ago I signed up to be the announcer of the band. Since then, I've attended football games home and away, and more band festivals then I knew existed. It was a blast, honestly. What started as just something to do became a part of my life, and the gaining of a family I never expected. It was because of this that I was able to do three years of homecoming court bios, senior nights, a year of soccer, and emceeing three band festivals.
Last night I was given a gift by my section member (the section of the sectionless) Abbie (best friend to my girlfriend and all around amazing band manager) an awesome gift - a decorated hatbox for my crazy marching band helmet as well as a bag of Three Musketeers.
I again read (this time half) of senior night - for my seniors, the class of 2015. Then it was my turn to have my name and biography read as I walked down the field. It was the first time I had ever walked down the middle of the field that I can remember, and I was met at the end by Mr. Obidowski, Mr. Loughren, and Mr. McAdoo. It was surreal to say the least. The band cheered, and then I was back to whatever it was I was doing. Back to the student section for one last time to cheer on one last Carlynton Loss.
We lost, but we cheered anyway. I hung by the band one last time with the people I had grown to appreciate, the people that had taken me in as their own.
I wrote two weeks ago about living in the moment, and about taking it in. I did, and it was fantastic. Nothing was different except the beginning and the end. I took along with me to the box Sara and Cassie. They had never been there, and I offered to any senior the chance to go. So I did my thing, and I added one thing to the end of my regular script:
"Thank you for supporting music in our schools, Thank you Mr. Obidowski and the entire Carlynton Marching Band for an amazing past three years as your announcer. This has been Alexander Popichak speaking for the Carlynton Golden Cougar Marching Band. GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO COUGARS!"And that was it. They played Seven Nations' Army in the stands one last time, I must note, but that was the end of my band announcing (career?). Clay, Sara, Cassie, and I went to Kings and ran into a waitress that we had the night prior, and it was weird and surreal and wonderful.
Sunday, October 5, 2014
We Live On Front Porches and Swing Life Away
I haven't written here in a while, and I'm beginning to think that in some very removed sense I've been living like they did in The Perks of Being a Wallflower. I've reacquired a group of friends who are forcing me to live, something that I haven't really done much of in being wrapped up in the mundane comforts of my own invented reality.
Friday was Homecoming the Pep Rally, Homecoming the parade, and Homecoming the game. The pep rally was a technical nightmare as it usually is, but it was the last time I have to do that. Homecoming the parade was pretty cool to watch, and (some of the best/edited) pictures are up on Flickr (https://www.flickr.com/photos/alexanderpopichak/sets/72157648360691342/).
Then came the game. As a bit of background, I've announced homecoming halftime festivities for the past two years (since 10th grade). I have, because of a plethora of reasons, consistently screwed up every year either in order or by completely neglecting something. As a result, they sent up a teacher with me this year to have a line of contact between the box and the field. And this year, for the first time that I can remember, I nailed it. That was a fantastic feeling to say the least. Afterwards, a group of us friends went to Kings' Family Restaurant for a round of general foodstuffs.
Then came the dance. This was the Perks of Being a Wallflower part. Clay, Dan, Mikaela, Sara, Natalie, Cassie, Jarod, and I descended upon Hannah's house for picture taking and general pre-Homecoming festivites. In other words, Dan, Clay, Jarod and I stood in the corner and talked about infinity until we were summoned by the rest to pose here, smile there, look there, such wind, etc. Then Sara was kind enough to give Clay and I a ride to the dance. We pulled up to the high school listening to a Billy Idol song on WDVE (why that was I'll never get, but it happened, and was perfect) and charged the building with the wind blowing and it was ridiculous but amazing.
The dance was quite lovely, what with the moshing and convincing Dan to dance (direct quote: "I missed three hours of reading Locke for this?!?") and more moshing and I can't dance for the life of me but it was again fantastic. We helped clean up, and I tore down the industrial light and magic with Clay and our magic box on wheels.
Afterwards the group of us went cosmic bowling until half past midnight, and the whole thing was surreal - being surrounded by a group of people you're probably closest to for the past five or six years and being on top of the world.
*cues cliche voice*
I guess at different points in our lives feeling infinite means different things. In Calculus, we're taught that infinity is just a concept, something you can never reach that's more or less just a stand in for something either really large or really small. It's something you can't quantify or manipulate (sorry Mr. Kozy, it's just easier this way) that I've always been fascinated with. You never get there, but you know it's there and can, if you want to and make it seem like it, get pretty close. But you have to initiate it, and keep it all in perspective.
That night, with those people, was amazing and was the closest I felt to happy and on top of the world that I have experienced so far in life.
Saturday, September 20, 2014
And It Was A Great Feeling
So today I went to an application workshop at Point Park. Basically, you drop off you transcript, fill out their application online, attend a Q and A session with students, and then take a tour. The goal? By the end of three hours, they have an academic decision (based on your transcript and that sort) for you.
We began in Lawrence Hall's lobby, proceeded to the ballroom, and I ate a chocolate muffin. This has no bearing on anything, but yeah, I ate a chocolate muffin. Filling out the application was quite simple, even if it was on a Mac (turns out I can actually use those if I try...). It's now submitted and floating on a server somewhere downtown.
After the application, we made our way through the campus tour. I was there with my father (who hasn't been to Point Park for any reason) and mother (who accompanied me in October when I went the first time).
There's something to be said about the feel of a campus. There are campuses where you feel that you're being immersed in the grand tradition of academia, and there are campuses where you feel like you're a part of some other grand tradition (go sportsball!) or that you're surrounded by just your major. There are campuses where you feel isolated and others immersed. I decided early on that I didn't want to go to a university simply for the sake of going to a post-secondary institution. With High School, you don't get much choice in the matter and more or less just participate enough to get by or accomplish whatever multi-tiered goal you established at some point.
I want to go to a university that felt like I was going to be a part of something - a part of the real world with the bonus of being educated and being essentially weened into that real world.
I've visited RMU, CMU, Pitt, and Point Park. At CMU and Pitt I felt the grand academia, and at RMU I felt just a bit too isolated. Point Park, being in the middle of the city and simultaneously being an actual campus just seemed to fit. So I went back again just to check, and I felt so welcomed, like I was wanted. As a person that is rarely 'wanted' for much of anything, feeling like you belong is an amazing feeling.
So then we went back to the Lawrence Hall lobby where they had letters waiting for us with the results of our academic acceptance or whatever. I went up to the table (last name P-Z) and asked the nice gentleman for my letter. I gave him my name and started to spell it when he stopped me and said, "I remember your name. Not a weird one, but not generic. It was fun looking over your transcript". I didn't know what to say honestly, so I said thanks, asked if I could open it (which was the whole point) and then, well:
I AM ACCEPTED WITH A SCHOLARSHIP OF SEVENTEEN THOUSAND DOLLARS A YEAR! So in that moment, all the ACT nonsense, scholars classes, AP credits, SAT Prep Classes, SAT taking, all of it suddenly materialized into something amazing and tangible and so worth it. And in that moment, I felt comfort, genuine joy, and for once it just clicked, and it was a great feeling.
Am I committed? I can't, really, yet. Am I applying elsewhere? Probably. Is this my first choice though? What do you think...
We began in Lawrence Hall's lobby, proceeded to the ballroom, and I ate a chocolate muffin. This has no bearing on anything, but yeah, I ate a chocolate muffin. Filling out the application was quite simple, even if it was on a Mac (turns out I can actually use those if I try...). It's now submitted and floating on a server somewhere downtown.
After the application, we made our way through the campus tour. I was there with my father (who hasn't been to Point Park for any reason) and mother (who accompanied me in October when I went the first time).
There's something to be said about the feel of a campus. There are campuses where you feel that you're being immersed in the grand tradition of academia, and there are campuses where you feel like you're a part of some other grand tradition (go sportsball!) or that you're surrounded by just your major. There are campuses where you feel isolated and others immersed. I decided early on that I didn't want to go to a university simply for the sake of going to a post-secondary institution. With High School, you don't get much choice in the matter and more or less just participate enough to get by or accomplish whatever multi-tiered goal you established at some point.
I want to go to a university that felt like I was going to be a part of something - a part of the real world with the bonus of being educated and being essentially weened into that real world.
I've visited RMU, CMU, Pitt, and Point Park. At CMU and Pitt I felt the grand academia, and at RMU I felt just a bit too isolated. Point Park, being in the middle of the city and simultaneously being an actual campus just seemed to fit. So I went back again just to check, and I felt so welcomed, like I was wanted. As a person that is rarely 'wanted' for much of anything, feeling like you belong is an amazing feeling.
So then we went back to the Lawrence Hall lobby where they had letters waiting for us with the results of our academic acceptance or whatever. I went up to the table (last name P-Z) and asked the nice gentleman for my letter. I gave him my name and started to spell it when he stopped me and said, "I remember your name. Not a weird one, but not generic. It was fun looking over your transcript". I didn't know what to say honestly, so I said thanks, asked if I could open it (which was the whole point) and then, well:
Am I committed? I can't, really, yet. Am I applying elsewhere? Probably. Is this my first choice though? What do you think...
Friday, August 15, 2014
The Windowpane Makes a Show of Rain
That's from the chorus of the song "Reply" by the Spring Standards.
Last Friday I was again at a Riverhounds game and last Saturday I was again at a house concert to again see the AMAZING Spring Standards. I try and not be bitter about terms and conditions, but to save my own ranting/you having to deal with that I will not comment about the Riverhounds game except to say we won, and took a selfie with a camera guy (because we're nerds).
I can, however, talk about the Spring Standards. Basically, we were invited again by my aunt and uncle to listen to the Spring Standards live and acoustic. They were great as always and I have more music now after acquiring two CDs from them.
So this week was about squaring away summer work, Eagle project stuff, and some other miscellaneous things that came along the way. I have a date set for the Demolition work on the sign, Monday. Stay tuned, and I should be able to share more on it, but as for now I know that Monday we're removing stuff and smashing some stuff... this should be interesting.
I'm taking this as a lesson in brevity as I can't think of anything more really and cutting it off here. I start senior year in about two and a half weeks and quite frankly I'm nervous. I'm more nervous about getting summer work and this eagle project done before the first day than I am for senior year itself. I don't know.
Last Friday I was again at a Riverhounds game and last Saturday I was again at a house concert to again see the AMAZING Spring Standards. I try and not be bitter about terms and conditions, but to save my own ranting/you having to deal with that I will not comment about the Riverhounds game except to say we won, and took a selfie with a camera guy (because we're nerds).
I can, however, talk about the Spring Standards. Basically, we were invited again by my aunt and uncle to listen to the Spring Standards live and acoustic. They were great as always and I have more music now after acquiring two CDs from them.
So this week was about squaring away summer work, Eagle project stuff, and some other miscellaneous things that came along the way. I have a date set for the Demolition work on the sign, Monday. Stay tuned, and I should be able to share more on it, but as for now I know that Monday we're removing stuff and smashing some stuff... this should be interesting.
I'm taking this as a lesson in brevity as I can't think of anything more really and cutting it off here. I start senior year in about two and a half weeks and quite frankly I'm nervous. I'm more nervous about getting summer work and this eagle project done before the first day than I am for senior year itself. I don't know.
Saturday, June 21, 2014
Keep The Earth Below My Feet
So It's Summer. With summer comes the changing of the guard - from the class of 2014 to the class of 2015. Notice the title of the site? Yeah, that means us.
It is surreal to think that the class of 2014 is graduating. They were always 'that grade ahead of us' that I never liked on the whole. Over the course of the past few years, I was fortunate enough to meet a large portion of the class, and am glad to call a few of them my friends. Nevertheless, time marches on.
I have been within and without since finals, and that is mainly because of the combination of finals cramming and getting these approvals for the Eagle Project. After nearly 6 months and over a dozen meetings with the Principal/Assistant Principal, the first, preliminary paperwork is approved by them. I can't talk much more than that yet, which is kind of frustrating because I like being relatively transparent here, but I still have approvals to go before anything moves forward. Such Paperwork. Many Unwow.
Over the course of the first week of summer (7 days) I was back up at the high school three times. The first was graduation, because it was indoors (read: auditorium, and I work auditorium events). When I got there, however, they informed me that it was outsourced, the boards were moved, and there was no place for me to go. So I snuck into the LGI control room, turned off all the lights and watched from there. It seems like a lot of issues in my everyday life could be fixed with simple communication. Oh well, such is life.
On Friday, two days after getting out of school, a few friends and I went mini-golfing, and then harassed Greg at his place of work, Dairy Queen. It felt a lot like one of those scenes in a movie, you know the ones, where you're playing music, laughing, and having a good time. The music of the night was everything from whatever the heck the 'Church Clap' is to Mumford and Sons' "Below My Feet". I've learned to really like that song. Not exactly sure why, but it (followed by the Monster Mash) provided the soundtrack to our adventure.
Here's to Summer, and here's to getting everything done and SENIOR YEAR.
It is surreal to think that the class of 2014 is graduating. They were always 'that grade ahead of us' that I never liked on the whole. Over the course of the past few years, I was fortunate enough to meet a large portion of the class, and am glad to call a few of them my friends. Nevertheless, time marches on.
I have been within and without since finals, and that is mainly because of the combination of finals cramming and getting these approvals for the Eagle Project. After nearly 6 months and over a dozen meetings with the Principal/Assistant Principal, the first, preliminary paperwork is approved by them. I can't talk much more than that yet, which is kind of frustrating because I like being relatively transparent here, but I still have approvals to go before anything moves forward. Such Paperwork. Many Unwow.
Over the course of the first week of summer (7 days) I was back up at the high school three times. The first was graduation, because it was indoors (read: auditorium, and I work auditorium events). When I got there, however, they informed me that it was outsourced, the boards were moved, and there was no place for me to go. So I snuck into the LGI control room, turned off all the lights and watched from there. It seems like a lot of issues in my everyday life could be fixed with simple communication. Oh well, such is life.
On Friday, two days after getting out of school, a few friends and I went mini-golfing, and then harassed Greg at his place of work, Dairy Queen. It felt a lot like one of those scenes in a movie, you know the ones, where you're playing music, laughing, and having a good time. The music of the night was everything from whatever the heck the 'Church Clap' is to Mumford and Sons' "Below My Feet". I've learned to really like that song. Not exactly sure why, but it (followed by the Monster Mash) provided the soundtrack to our adventure.
Here's to Summer, and here's to getting everything done and SENIOR YEAR.
Saturday, June 7, 2014
Of Bucs and Ducks Part Two, with Some Stars
Thursday night I was fortunate enough to be able to watch The Night Before Our Stars, the TFiOS premiere thingy. For the unaware, TFiOS is The Fault in Our Stars by the great JayScribble, a man who I was fortunate enough to meet while he was writing the book that became the bestseller and now amazing movie. Going in, I wasn't exactly sure what to think: it was a movie done by a not-crazily-star-studded cast about a book that was pretty deep. The amazing team at 20th Century Fox brought it to life though, and it was probably the most faithful and best executed book-to-movie translation I've seen. That being said, I still haven't seen many movies.
Friday afternoon we received a call from our aunt (yes, the one who introduced me to JayScribble, KDKA, The Spring Standards, and the list goes on) who tells us she has four tickets for that night's baseball game against the Brewers. Section 20. So I googled a map of the ballpark and realized these were behind the dugout seats. That established, donning a giant rubber duck shirt, and using my knowledge of bus schedules, we [being my brother and I] added Tyler Smith of Carlynton Tech to the mix and began the adventure.
Public transportation is always an adventure: they are usually late, and always a bit hectic. Friday was no different. I had told Matt and Tyler to bring exact change because it makes life easier. Tyler brought exact change: $2.50 in quarters. He's never been on a Port Authority Bus before.
We make our way to Gateway Center in the midst of the Three Rivers Arts Festival. I want to go back and see what's there, perhaps that can be an adventure next week? Irrelevant, T time.
We made our way onto the T and to the North Shore Station right outside of PNC Park. After a bit of trial and error with the ticket booth, and security* we made our way into our beautiful ballpark. It was a free shirt Friday (where, in case you couldn't tell by the name, they gave us free shirts) sponsored by of all places, Point Park University. C'est un signe.
I have been to PNC park a few times for various reasons, and every time I am struck with just how beautiful that place is, and how clean it is for being a sportsball arena. After meandering about trying to figure out where section 20 was, we made our way to our seats. We were escorted down, down, and down some more. I was half expecting to be kicked out or something, but no. Three rows back from the dugout.
The game was fantastic, the city amazing as usual, and who sat in front of us but Frank Coonelly, the freaking PRESIDENT of the PITTSBURGH PIRATES. My brother convinced him to take a picture with us:
Apparently Seth Meyers was at the game because he is a Pittsburgh Pirates fan. Seeing as anything was possible, I sent him this tweet:
Seth Meyers didn't come, but it was still a fantastic night. There were fireworks, loud noises, ballpark fries, pierogi races, and to top it all off we had fantastic seats. The Bucs won, which I chalk up to wearing my Duck Shirt to the game and some spot-on pitching by Brandon Cumpton.
Thanks to our aunt as always, to the his All-Yellowness the Giant Rubber Duck of Pittsburgh, wherever he may roam.
*Every time I go through security which was a lot in NYC, I am paranoid because I always have some metal on me. It's usually a belt buckle or something strange like that, but I never seem to be able to make it through a metal detector on the first try without forgetting like a quarter or something strange like that. The people at these places are really understanding and kind, but I always feel bad that I'm slowing the process and making their lives harder by wearing a belt or something stupid like that.
Friday afternoon we received a call from our aunt (yes, the one who introduced me to JayScribble, KDKA, The Spring Standards, and the list goes on) who tells us she has four tickets for that night's baseball game against the Brewers. Section 20. So I googled a map of the ballpark and realized these were behind the dugout seats. That established, donning a giant rubber duck shirt, and using my knowledge of bus schedules, we [being my brother and I] added Tyler Smith of Carlynton Tech to the mix and began the adventure.
Public transportation is always an adventure: they are usually late, and always a bit hectic. Friday was no different. I had told Matt and Tyler to bring exact change because it makes life easier. Tyler brought exact change: $2.50 in quarters. He's never been on a Port Authority Bus before.
We make our way to Gateway Center in the midst of the Three Rivers Arts Festival. I want to go back and see what's there, perhaps that can be an adventure next week? Irrelevant, T time.
We made our way onto the T and to the North Shore Station right outside of PNC Park. After a bit of trial and error with the ticket booth, and security* we made our way into our beautiful ballpark. It was a free shirt Friday (where, in case you couldn't tell by the name, they gave us free shirts) sponsored by of all places, Point Park University. C'est un signe.
I have been to PNC park a few times for various reasons, and every time I am struck with just how beautiful that place is, and how clean it is for being a sportsball arena. After meandering about trying to figure out where section 20 was, we made our way to our seats. We were escorted down, down, and down some more. I was half expecting to be kicked out or something, but no. Three rows back from the dugout.
 |
| The View from my Seat... Gotta Love Pittsburgh |
The game was fantastic, the city amazing as usual, and who sat in front of us but Frank Coonelly, the freaking PRESIDENT of the PITTSBURGH PIRATES. My brother convinced him to take a picture with us:
 |
| That's me, the big dork on the left, and FRANK COONELLY on the right. |
Apparently Seth Meyers was at the game because he is a Pittsburgh Pirates fan. Seeing as anything was possible, I sent him this tweet:
@sethmeyers should come to section 20 at pnc park - we have an open seat. Yellow hat. #letsgobucs
— Alexander Popichak (@AlexPopichak) June 7, 2014
and its followup:
@sethmeyers, we're not kidding. Have an open seat... Red Shirt Yellow Hat. pic.twitter.com/kGgKtxv352
— Alexander Popichak (@AlexPopichak) June 7, 2014
I received a bunch of texts during this game because, apparently I was on ROOT sports' coverage of the game with my duck shirt twice. Later on, I was tagged in this by my aunt:Seth Meyers didn't come, but it was still a fantastic night. There were fireworks, loud noises, ballpark fries, pierogi races, and to top it all off we had fantastic seats. The Bucs won, which I chalk up to wearing my Duck Shirt to the game and some spot-on pitching by Brandon Cumpton.
Thanks to our aunt as always, to the his All-Yellowness the Giant Rubber Duck of Pittsburgh, wherever he may roam.
*Every time I go through security which was a lot in NYC, I am paranoid because I always have some metal on me. It's usually a belt buckle or something strange like that, but I never seem to be able to make it through a metal detector on the first try without forgetting like a quarter or something strange like that. The people at these places are really understanding and kind, but I always feel bad that I'm slowing the process and making their lives harder by wearing a belt or something stupid like that.
Sunday, April 13, 2014
As We Stumble Along, We're Off to See The Wizard
Complete Side Note: We pass Franklin Regional on our way to Slickville every Sunday. My heart goes out to them, I have no idea what they're going through but I admire their strength and resolve during this whole insanity. Stay Strong, FR.
Canevin's version of Drowsy was fantastic, and I may be biased because I know the show so well, but it was so nice to hear the music flood back. There's something to be said for watching a live show with a live orchestra, and to know the show word for word. I went for that reason: I never really saw Drowsy live because, well, I was in the show.
On Friday I went to see Carlynton's The Wizard of Oz, which was AMAZING. Everyone (Clay, Greg, Maggie, Natalie, Mikaela, Andy V, Dave, so many more, all of you!) was great, and the show was technically done well. Overall it was an amazingly enjoyable experience, and everyone involved should be proud.
It donned on me Friday that I haven't actually sat through a production in the auditorium seats in about three years. Generally, I am either on tech for something, or I'm on stage for something. In one sense, it was nice to sit back and have it all handled, and have a seat that was assigned.
In another sense I was totally and hopelessly lost. This is my kingdom: this is the auditorium we clean, maintain, and do the best tech work we can. What can I say? I'm a control freak. I enjoy being a cog in the wheel, not the one reading the watch.
It wasn't necessarily bad that I wasn't a part of it, it was just strange not being a part of it all. After it all, I still (stressful as it always is) prefer the lighting stand or stage manager's stand to being in the audience. It's just how I am.
Saturday I took the ACT at Canevin. Another first: I've never been in a Canevin classroom until then.
I hope to get something out for Tuesday (Mon Anniversaire) or Friday (but you realize, this is going to be one crazy week for us... If I don't, Happy Easter to you all!).
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Hopeless Wanderer
[Note: This may get a bit, um, deep. Or at least deep to me. I wrote the bulk of it Friday night, added some Saturday, and am finally getting around to posting it now. This is fair warning that I delve into church (no I'm not going to preach to you), my childhood, and mostly incoherent thought]
There is a major difference between thoughts and someone else voicing those thoughts. At least with me, I feel there is a certain amount of control that comes with keeping thoughts bottled up, but once those are voiced, once those are brought to 'reality' it becomes a whole other thing to deal with.
I've often voiced that I am an 'idea guy' (it's even on my about page) meaning that I am usually able to think logically through things, but when it comes to actually doing those things I usually freeze up. I always seem to have an excuse - no time, too many other projects, whatever.
This all works fine in my little bubble, but when it comes to the real world, this doesn't work so well. I recognize this and I'm trying to work past it, but certain things (mainly my mission to earn my Eagle Scout) have suffered and I really have to become more decisive and more impulsive.
But back to the whole idea-versus-reality concept. I've written numerous times about this, but I don't think I've ever touched on this thing that I'm going to call the idea safety gap. This meeting discussed the possibility of closing, or rather selling, the church.
Let me clear this up: at this point it's only a possibility. In all probability any move will be made in the next year or two, but by the time anything is finalized I'll (hopefully) be in college. But that doesn't really matter. It's a major part of my growing up.
I've often been told that a church is the people, not the building. Which I totally agree with, but at the same time, I have grown attached to both the building and the people. More so the people, but since I'm technically at this point attached to my father (the priest) I go where he does.
If Slickville goes away, if the church itself closes fully (I don't know this will go down, but there are a lot of possibilities here) and he is reassigned elsewhere, I don't know how I'll deal with it. I know there are other churches, and I know there are closer Orthodox churches, but Slickville is my home. I know I'm always welcome in Carnegie, and usually welcome elsewhere, but I grew up going to the church 40 miles from my house. It's my family.
Thus starts a series... not sure how many parts or how frequent, but I plan to post once in a blue moon, or maybe even start a side blog, because this isn't my usual content here...
Saturday, February 22, 2014
I Can Show You What You Wanna See And Take You Where You Want To Be
UPDATE: I figured out why Rick Sebak was in the Southside. Find out more here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oVMixoM6yHE
I really should've just waited a day.
Today I went to WYEP, which was quite routine. I usually get a ride from my father, but he was only able to get me there today, which was alright. It was a nice day and it had been a while since I last took public transportation.
Taking public transportation here in Pittsburgh is always an adventure (If you don't believe me, follow @PGH_T_Party) and today was no different. I usually pick up the 51 from the South Side downtown at the corner of 12th and East Carson. Today, the lights at that intersection weren't working because a transformer caught fire there.
Needless to say, I was assuming that this would set the bus schedule back a while. So I waited, and looked down East Carson waiting for the 51. About ten minutes goes by, and who do I see walking down the sidewalk toward me but some guy that looks like Rick Sebak.
Rick Sebak (for those of you who don't follow public television/need a brush-up on yinzology) is a television producer for WQED here in Pittsburgh that is known for his scrapbook documentaries (he invented the genre) about local and quirky things ("Breakfast Special" "A Hot Dog Program" etc.). He also follows me on twitter.
Anyway, I'm watching this guy and East Carson, and then I realize that it is Rick Sebak. I say "hi" but honestly I'm a bit starstruck (seriously, making documentaries in this style is one of my dreams after, you know, being Scott Pelley or Charles Osgood). We talk briefly about the weather and he goes to his car, which is being blocked by a bunch of motorcycles. At this point I see the 51 in the distance. The motorcycle dudes move their motorcycles after talking to Mr. Sebak for a minute or so. And then they pull out at this intersection. Up rolls the 51, me with fare in hand. And so keeps going the 51, past me.
So Rick Sebak drives away, and the bus decided I wasn't worthy enough to get on it. I look around to see if I'm getting punk'd or something, I'm not.
The 48 pulls up, and lets me on. The 48 and 51 take the same routes from at least 20th and Carson into town, so I'm alright. Due to construction though, I had to walk an extra ten blocks than normal to get to my transfer. Which gave me an excuse to walk through Point Park's campus. The campus isn't like a college campus though... it's a collection of five or six city blocks making the whole city its campus. </Point Park Gushing>
I make it onto my transfer bus stop as it is rolling up to the corner. As if it was planned.
I really should've just waited a day.
Today I went to WYEP, which was quite routine. I usually get a ride from my father, but he was only able to get me there today, which was alright. It was a nice day and it had been a while since I last took public transportation.
Taking public transportation here in Pittsburgh is always an adventure (If you don't believe me, follow @PGH_T_Party) and today was no different. I usually pick up the 51 from the South Side downtown at the corner of 12th and East Carson. Today, the lights at that intersection weren't working because a transformer caught fire there.
Needless to say, I was assuming that this would set the bus schedule back a while. So I waited, and looked down East Carson waiting for the 51. About ten minutes goes by, and who do I see walking down the sidewalk toward me but some guy that looks like Rick Sebak.
Rick Sebak (for those of you who don't follow public television/need a brush-up on yinzology) is a television producer for WQED here in Pittsburgh that is known for his scrapbook documentaries (he invented the genre) about local and quirky things ("Breakfast Special" "A Hot Dog Program" etc.). He also follows me on twitter.
Anyway, I'm watching this guy and East Carson, and then I realize that it is Rick Sebak. I say "hi" but honestly I'm a bit starstruck (seriously, making documentaries in this style is one of my dreams after, you know, being Scott Pelley or Charles Osgood). We talk briefly about the weather and he goes to his car, which is being blocked by a bunch of motorcycles. At this point I see the 51 in the distance. The motorcycle dudes move their motorcycles after talking to Mr. Sebak for a minute or so. And then they pull out at this intersection. Up rolls the 51, me with fare in hand. And so keeps going the 51, past me.
So Rick Sebak drives away, and the bus decided I wasn't worthy enough to get on it. I look around to see if I'm getting punk'd or something, I'm not.
The 48 pulls up, and lets me on. The 48 and 51 take the same routes from at least 20th and Carson into town, so I'm alright. Due to construction though, I had to walk an extra ten blocks than normal to get to my transfer. Which gave me an excuse to walk through Point Park's campus. The campus isn't like a college campus though... it's a collection of five or six city blocks making the whole city its campus. </Point Park Gushing>
I make it onto my transfer bus stop as it is rolling up to the corner. As if it was planned.
Friday, February 14, 2014
If That's What You Wanted
That's the title of the song used in the trailer for the John Green Movie The Fault In Our Stars. I like the song, and the trailer, and the book, so you should check all of those out in the reverse order I listed it in...
It occurred to me that last week's post didn't properly publish. I pushed that through earlier today, so check out that below.
This week was rather uneventful. On Monday we had to deal with the aftermath of Friday's talent show, meaning the Video Lab was in shambles (cameras, tripods, mics all unplugged and had to be set up again... which didn't happen), I was sick, and I had to play referee between management and visual directors, and honestly deal with it being a Monday. Which was an interesting combination, which culminated in me being quite miserable.
But that morning I was forced to do something I rarely get to do: read the announcements solo from the office over the Public Address system. I probably sounded as miserable as I usually do, but I actually enjoyed it. It reminds me so much of audio recording at the station, and of recording the "Welcome" thing in the video lab. This has led me to ambition (which is usually quite scary when it comes to me because, well, JSVH, BBC 2 1/2, need I go on?) which has led me to want to do a podcast. I want to do a podcast talkshow sort of thing with my friends. We'll see how this goes, if anywhere.
The rest of the week was uneventful; I dabbled in a bit of photography again today as I have been lately. In doing this I've realized that sunsets in winter in western Pennsylvania are amazing. Actually, sunsets in general here are great. I plan on posting some of the pictures I've taken up on the Flickr shortly.
Also, I wrote an alternative post to this one over on the secondary (yet semi-identical) blog here: http://2015blogger3.blogspot.com/2014/02/on-valentines-day-bonus-21414-post.html. It's on Valentine's Day, and humanity... but I promise, it's not that profound.
It occurred to me that last week's post didn't properly publish. I pushed that through earlier today, so check out that below.
This week was rather uneventful. On Monday we had to deal with the aftermath of Friday's talent show, meaning the Video Lab was in shambles (cameras, tripods, mics all unplugged and had to be set up again... which didn't happen), I was sick, and I had to play referee between management and visual directors, and honestly deal with it being a Monday. Which was an interesting combination, which culminated in me being quite miserable.
But that morning I was forced to do something I rarely get to do: read the announcements solo from the office over the Public Address system. I probably sounded as miserable as I usually do, but I actually enjoyed it. It reminds me so much of audio recording at the station, and of recording the "Welcome" thing in the video lab. This has led me to ambition (which is usually quite scary when it comes to me because, well, JSVH, BBC 2 1/2, need I go on?) which has led me to want to do a podcast. I want to do a podcast talkshow sort of thing with my friends. We'll see how this goes, if anywhere.
The rest of the week was uneventful; I dabbled in a bit of photography again today as I have been lately. In doing this I've realized that sunsets in winter in western Pennsylvania are amazing. Actually, sunsets in general here are great. I plan on posting some of the pictures I've taken up on the Flickr shortly.
Also, I wrote an alternative post to this one over on the secondary (yet semi-identical) blog here: http://2015blogger3.blogspot.com/2014/02/on-valentines-day-bonus-21414-post.html. It's on Valentine's Day, and humanity... but I promise, it's not that profound.
Sunday, December 22, 2013
To Just Stop In One Place
It seems all too often the focus of everyone's life is on moving. I don't mean just literal moving; it seems so many people, me included, feel unsettled or unsatisfied with where they are. For the first part of this I want to focus on moving, and the second part why moving.
This past week was insane: Sunday I was at a different church than my own (in Carnegie), Monday brought me filling in to film a girls varsity basketball game (GO COOOGURRRS!), Tuesday a high school band concert where I ran both lights and sound simultaneously (I shouldn't be allowed to touch audio), Wednesday brought my friend's concert at another school, Thursday brought the elementary band concert where I played stage manger, and Friday, Saturday, and today I was in Petrolia with my maternal grandparents and that section of my family.
In other words, for the past week I have been somewhat of a nomad. I throw myself this way and that, and I know that at least someone somewhere reading this does the same. Around the holidays it seems that the emphasis is on being home, and I can appreciate that because as of late I have been forcing myself out of my own home for [insert organization/obligation here].
With the workload I was given from school (aaah, all the things were due Friday), I became quite stressed; to the point where some of the teachers and my peers were concerned. I have this fifth period study hall that I always spend in the library. It all started because I procrastinate and the library has computers to write things in. It's also a quiet place to contemplate things, or to talk to a teacher about things.
Lately these talks have become philosophical - about figuring out where I'm going, what I want, feeling inadequate, those sorts of things. And I've realized this much: the reason I do so much is not because I want the stress or the full schedule, but rather because I like doing things. I was roped into the tech thing because I like it; it's a skill that's good to have (ha!) and it's fun to do.
Because, as I also learned this week: you don't ever know what you truly want. If you're lucky you know where you are. I keep moving and keep doing things because I don't know what I'm doing, where I'm going, and I want to cast out a wide enough net to figure out where that place I want to be is.
Ultimately, as goes the overused cliche, it's not about where you end up (because you can't see where that actually is) but rather how roundabout a way it takes for you to get there.
To all of you who celebrate this week: Merry Christmas. To those of you who don't: Happy Boxing Day.
This past week was insane: Sunday I was at a different church than my own (in Carnegie), Monday brought me filling in to film a girls varsity basketball game (GO COOOGURRRS!), Tuesday a high school band concert where I ran both lights and sound simultaneously (I shouldn't be allowed to touch audio), Wednesday brought my friend's concert at another school, Thursday brought the elementary band concert where I played stage manger, and Friday, Saturday, and today I was in Petrolia with my maternal grandparents and that section of my family.
In other words, for the past week I have been somewhat of a nomad. I throw myself this way and that, and I know that at least someone somewhere reading this does the same. Around the holidays it seems that the emphasis is on being home, and I can appreciate that because as of late I have been forcing myself out of my own home for [insert organization/obligation here].
With the workload I was given from school (aaah, all the things were due Friday), I became quite stressed; to the point where some of the teachers and my peers were concerned. I have this fifth period study hall that I always spend in the library. It all started because I procrastinate and the library has computers to write things in. It's also a quiet place to contemplate things, or to talk to a teacher about things.
Lately these talks have become philosophical - about figuring out where I'm going, what I want, feeling inadequate, those sorts of things. And I've realized this much: the reason I do so much is not because I want the stress or the full schedule, but rather because I like doing things. I was roped into the tech thing because I like it; it's a skill that's good to have (ha!) and it's fun to do.
Because, as I also learned this week: you don't ever know what you truly want. If you're lucky you know where you are. I keep moving and keep doing things because I don't know what I'm doing, where I'm going, and I want to cast out a wide enough net to figure out where that place I want to be is.
Ultimately, as goes the overused cliche, it's not about where you end up (because you can't see where that actually is) but rather how roundabout a way it takes for you to get there.
To all of you who celebrate this week: Merry Christmas. To those of you who don't: Happy Boxing Day.
Saturday, December 7, 2013
“The best things in life aren't things.” - Art Buchwald
On Opening Night - 6 December 2013
Interesting words, and when you consider that you work on a production for months in front of an empty auditorium, it's quite strange to have it suddenly filled with people. To hear people laugh when you say the most ridiculous lines ("General Goethals was very pleased, he says the canal is just the right size! ... Dear me, this'll be a shock to the general!?") is a strange experience.
I've never had a speaking role in any production, so I've been more than able to slip into the background and ignore it all, but it's so different to be a leader with it.
Take, for example, at the beginning of the second act. I get all up in Clay Bodnar (in this production he's Johnathan Brewster). I've known him for years, and have worked with him on so many projects, which should make it easy for us to fight on stage. But it is so hard with his ridiculous makeup and my ridiculous lines and glued on mustache! I sort of understand now how hard it must be for the people on Saturday Night Live to not break character... At the same time, I wouldn't trade it for the world.
This is such a great cast to be a part of, and come time for our bows at the end of the production when we all stand together, hand in hand before whoever shows up, we truly are a family; and truly a great group of friends. I'm writing this to remind myself in the future what it felt like - it was strange, but so much fun.
Thanks to everyone that came last night, to everyone who will be there in roughly four hours for show two, and everyone that will be there tomorrow. And a huge thanks goes to everyone that has helped put this together from Ms. Longo (director) to Al (sound guy) to everyone who has put up with my bugle insanity and especially to my Brewster family:
Interesting words, and when you consider that you work on a production for months in front of an empty auditorium, it's quite strange to have it suddenly filled with people. To hear people laugh when you say the most ridiculous lines ("General Goethals was very pleased, he says the canal is just the right size! ... Dear me, this'll be a shock to the general!?") is a strange experience.
I've never had a speaking role in any production, so I've been more than able to slip into the background and ignore it all, but it's so different to be a leader with it.
Take, for example, at the beginning of the second act. I get all up in Clay Bodnar (in this production he's Johnathan Brewster). I've known him for years, and have worked with him on so many projects, which should make it easy for us to fight on stage. But it is so hard with his ridiculous makeup and my ridiculous lines and glued on mustache! I sort of understand now how hard it must be for the people on Saturday Night Live to not break character... At the same time, I wouldn't trade it for the world.
This is such a great cast to be a part of, and come time for our bows at the end of the production when we all stand together, hand in hand before whoever shows up, we truly are a family; and truly a great group of friends. I'm writing this to remind myself in the future what it felt like - it was strange, but so much fun.
Thanks to everyone that came last night, to everyone who will be there in roughly four hours for show two, and everyone that will be there tomorrow. And a huge thanks goes to everyone that has helped put this together from Ms. Longo (director) to Al (sound guy) to everyone who has put up with my bugle insanity and especially to my Brewster family:
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