Category Archives: road

On stroller blocking as an Olympic sport

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Call them whatever you want–useful, weird, bulky, broken–but baby strollers are going to be a new Olympic sport at the next games in Brazil in 2016. Just like bobsledding, there are different modalities, but all have to do with how well the driver of the stroller can block a sidewalk, a supermarket aisle, a street, an escalator, there will be different landscapes in which the stroller athlete will have to successfully block anyone from getting past them. The Olympic committee hasn’t finalized the rules yet, but some of the different modalities will be mother, baby, and dog, or mother, baby, and grandmother. They are also planning modalities which include other siblings, multiple family members, and fallen toys. Strollers will be categorized by cost, construction, width, and size of tires. All team members will have to be from the same country. There will be a special modality for colapsable strollers, people who eat ice cream, and mothers who cannot stop talking on their cell phones. Crying babies in the rain will occur on the final day of competition, featuring cross mother-in-laws, lost fathers, a dog pooping, the police, and multiple neighbors of varying sizes. There will be a special modality in which the parents carry the child and push an empty stroller while they both talk on their cell phones, the dog pees on grandma, and the older sibling skins her/his knee while rollerskating. Stroller blocking is not for the weak of heart, and all participants must where helmets (and men must wear hard cups). The sport has been criticized in the past for its overt violence.

On stroller blocking as an Olympic sport

Posted on by

Call them whatever you want–useful, weird, bulky, broken–but baby strollers are going to be a new Olympic sport at the next games in Brazil in 2016. Just like bobsledding, there are different modalities, but all have to do with how well the driver of the stroller can block a sidewalk, a supermarket aisle, a street, an escalator, there will be different landscapes in which the stroller athlete will have to successfully block anyone from getting past them. The Olympic committee hasn’t finalized the rules yet, but some of the different modalities will be mother, baby, and dog, or mother, baby, and grandmother. They are also planning modalities which include other siblings, multiple family members, and fallen toys. Strollers will be categorized by cost, construction, width, and size of tires. All team members will have to be from the same country. There will be a special modality for colapsable strollers, people who eat ice cream, and mothers who cannot stop talking on their cell phones. Crying babies in the rain will occur on the final day of competition, featuring cross mother-in-laws, lost fathers, a dog pooping, the police, and multiple neighbors of varying sizes. There will be a special modality in which the parents carry the child and push an empty stroller while they both talk on their cell phones, the dog pees on grandma, and the older sibling skins her/his knee while rollerskating. Stroller blocking is not for the weak of heart, and all participants must where helmets (and men must wear hard cups). The sport has been criticized in the past for its overt violence.

On a bonfire

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There is something completely primeval about a fire that speaks to a primitive memory that we all harbor in the deepest, darkest reaches of our DNA. We see fire and we turn toward it. Fire is at once both a saving grace and a sign of destruction, warmth and salvation, smoke and ash. We build fires to celebrate community in a ritual so old we have no memory of its origins, no memory of its meaning, but we cling to the light in the darkness as it protects us from shadows, both known and unknown. The bonfire, whether on a beach or in the woods, wards off the approaching specters, shielding us from our own irrational fears. The fire provides light and warmth against the dark and cold, the difference between making it and perishing. The memories are both collective and ancient, unspoken and unnamed, reaching into the darkness before even words mattered. The bonfire becomes a modern ritual of celebration that we cling to without knowing why. The bonfire commemorates our success, lights our road into the future, chases away the shadows. We are drawn inevitably toward the flame, like moths, yes, but more than moths. The light illuminates our darkest dreams and desires, filling us with logic and reason, and the warmth pushes away, if only for a moment, the cold and cruel reality of everyday life. Perhaps what the bonfire really stands for is hope, hope for the future where a bright, warm light shines, keeping at bay the chaos and lighting the path that we find so dear.

On a bonfire

Posted on by

There is something completely primeval about a fire that speaks to a primitive memory that we all harbor in the deepest, darkest reaches of our DNA. We see fire and we turn toward it. Fire is at once both a saving grace and a sign of destruction, warmth and salvation, smoke and ash. We build fires to celebrate community in a ritual so old we have no memory of its origins, no memory of its meaning, but we cling to the light in the darkness as it protects us from shadows, both known and unknown. The bonfire, whether on a beach or in the woods, wards off the approaching specters, shielding us from our own irrational fears. The fire provides light and warmth against the dark and cold, the difference between making it and perishing. The memories are both collective and ancient, unspoken and unnamed, reaching into the darkness before even words mattered. The bonfire becomes a modern ritual of celebration that we cling to without knowing why. The bonfire commemorates our success, lights our road into the future, chases away the shadows. We are drawn inevitably toward the flame, like moths, yes, but more than moths. The light illuminates our darkest dreams and desires, filling us with logic and reason, and the warmth pushes away, if only for a moment, the cold and cruel reality of everyday life. Perhaps what the bonfire really stands for is hope, hope for the future where a bright, warm light shines, keeping at bay the chaos and lighting the path that we find so dear.

On the road (not taken)

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Are you one of the sheep? Or do you march to your own drummer? The road of life as a metaphor is an old one, perhaps the oldest one. How we ever choose the road we take is, I think, a mystery. There is always a lot of pressure–material, social, religious–to pick a road that produces optimum results–make a good living, everyone says. Take classes that will make you eligible for a high income job, a job with lots of social prestige, a job that will ensure a secure future. Though there is nothing unreasonable about this approach to life, chasing the brass ring, this road is often over-traveled by people who are giving little thought to either the road or the destination. The problem with metaphors is that they often over-simplify something that is really rather complex. The road of life is not one continuous asphalt ribbon without exits, potholes, delays, or road construction. The road of life is a bifurcating, complex series of stops, starts, and detours. There are also those who get lost or just drive off the road entirely. There are also all of the two-lane country roads, gravel roads, dead ends, and strange curves which have almost no traffic at all. It’s easier to stay on the freeway with all of the others, straight, obvious, no ambiguities or confusion, but is the superhighway the only pragmatic way to go? Or is pragmatism relevant at all? The road is a problematic metaphor because it is way too ambiguous to be meaningful. Whichever road you might take, pragmatism versus impractical, for example, is a subjective value judgment which has no real explanation. If one chooses to ignore the siren’s call of unbridled consumerism and an insatiable thirst for fame and power, then one decides to not participate in the savage ways of unfettered capitalism and the corporate scenarios that support it. To dedicate time and energy to thinking, contemplation, and philosophy is to seriously over-think the road or to ignore the road altogether. The hard question has to do with long term goals and how those goals impact your decision to follow the pack on the highway or to head out on your own, seeking new paths, going down strange byways, getting off the beaten track. Do you dare to be original, odd, non-conformist, iconoclast, anarchic, or unpredictable? It may not be as easy as you think.

On the road (not taken)

Posted on by

Are you one of the sheep? Or do you march to your own drummer? The road of life as a metaphor is an old one, perhaps the oldest one. How we ever choose the road we take is, I think, a mystery. There is always a lot of pressure–material, social, religious–to pick a road that produces optimum results–make a good living, everyone says. Take classes that will make you eligible for a high income job, a job with lots of social prestige, a job that will ensure a secure future. Though there is nothing unreasonable about this approach to life, chasing the brass ring, this road is often over-traveled by people who are giving little thought to either the road or the destination. The problem with metaphors is that they often over-simplify something that is really rather complex. The road of life is not one continuous asphalt ribbon without exits, potholes, delays, or road construction. The road of life is a bifurcating, complex series of stops, starts, and detours. There are also those who get lost or just drive off the road entirely. There are also all of the two-lane country roads, gravel roads, dead ends, and strange curves which have almost no traffic at all. It’s easier to stay on the freeway with all of the others, straight, obvious, no ambiguities or confusion, but is the superhighway the only pragmatic way to go? Or is pragmatism relevant at all? The road is a problematic metaphor because it is way too ambiguous to be meaningful. Whichever road you might take, pragmatism versus impractical, for example, is a subjective value judgment which has no real explanation. If one chooses to ignore the siren’s call of unbridled consumerism and an insatiable thirst for fame and power, then one decides to not participate in the savage ways of unfettered capitalism and the corporate scenarios that support it. To dedicate time and energy to thinking, contemplation, and philosophy is to seriously over-think the road or to ignore the road altogether. The hard question has to do with long term goals and how those goals impact your decision to follow the pack on the highway or to head out on your own, seeking new paths, going down strange byways, getting off the beaten track. Do you dare to be original, odd, non-conformist, iconoclast, anarchic, or unpredictable? It may not be as easy as you think.