An Unfortunate Interlude
My introduction to David Rakoff came as most introductions to amazing things do for me — on NPR’s This American Life.
I cackle-cry-snorted all the way down Interstate 360 that day, listening to his short story about television on repeat. THIS is how funny funny can get. THIS is what it should sound like. THIS is what I someday dream of doing.
RIP David Rakoff. You’ll be sorely missed.
And Now, For a Serious Word or Two…
A former classmate of mine has been a political prisoner for far too long in Azerbaijan. He’s fighting for democracy in his country, something that most of us will - fortunately - never have to do.
I’d really appreciate it if you could take a few seconds out of your day to sign a petition for his release…
Reflections on 98 Years
My grandmother passed away on Saturday, December 17, 2011. She was 98 years old, which means that she was also: one Great Depression, two World Wars, and 17 U.S. Presidents old. Below is something I wrote for, about, and because of her.
A Brief (Iowa) Interlude
I apologize in advance, but I have to get serious for a moment. You see, recently University of Iowa professor Stephen Bloom wrote a relatively scathing article in The Atlantic, entitled “Observations from 20 Years of Iowa Life.” And, it upset a lot of people whose hearts belong to the heartland.
Now, I hate to see it happen to a rookie, but obviously Dr. Bloom wasn’t aware of this important rule of thumb: don’t upset Iowans. We might laugh it off at first, but I assure you we’ll find ways of plotting revenge. Like misspelling your name on a thank-you note. Or, worse yet, not even sending you a thank-you note.
Dr. Strange-Bloom or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the BS
I remember being in the eighth grade, and being pissed off. I had just read an article in that heralded beacon of journalism, Teen People. It claimed that, with the advent of online shopping, girls who lived in “the middle of nowhere, like Iowa” were no longer forced to buy clothes at Walmart, but could instead join the rest of the country in shopping at “real stores” like “Delia’s.”
It stung. Why would people, who very likely had never even been to Iowa, write such hurtful things? The factual inaccuracies were clear — thanks to a recent expansion of our local mall, we now had both a Maurice’s and an American Eagle. How dare they claim that we shopped exclusively at Walmart!!
I felt frustrated. And infuriated. But you know what else I felt? Dis-empowered. When people write things that you consider untrue, and patronizing, and stereotypical, in mass media or elsewhere, it’s only natural to feel a little helpless.
Which is why I’m glad to see the thoughtful responses that Stephen Bloom’s article has received (this one is particularly beautiful). Because, people are using this opportunity to empower themselves to speak up in response to what they feel to be inaccurate and shoddy ‘journalism.’
I’m not really surprised that a widely-read magazine was used as a platform to espouse controversial views and present them as truth — this kind of stuff happens all the time. After all, Bloom has garnered publicity in a way that would be difficult to do with just “facts.” As a result, his piece has received attention — and subsequent debate — on a magnitude that most true journalistic pieces do not.
Ultimately, Bloom’s article has reinforced all the things I love about Iowa — and they don’t include our inclination to “cling to guns and religion.” Or the “skuzzy*, crime-infested slum towns” on the banks of the “commercially-irrelevant” Mississippi River. No, I love Iowa because it’s full of people who have an ability to be presented with unfounded criticisms, thoughtfully respond, and then move on.
And we can still make a hell of a casserole while doing so.
* note: I was not familiar with the word “skuzzy,” so I turned to the internet. According to urbandictionary.com, skuzzy means: “a grade A whore or slut.” Now, I’m not sure if Dr. Bloom meant to call Keokuk, Iowa a “whore,” or whether he just misspelled the word “scuzzy,” meaning: dirty or grimy. In any event, I’ve been to Keokuk, and they seem to do a nice job keeping their streets both clean, and free of venereal disease.