Monday, February 25, 2008

Smoking

I'm a smoker. It sucks. Unlike most people I know I didn't start smoking, ironically, until I was 18. My best friend got hooked on it through another friend of his, and he got me to try it. It was great - back then, with no tolerance, taking a drag was like getting high. It felt like your brain was one of those little balls inside the vertical tubes they use to test the power of your lungs when you blow into it. It just went up, and up, and up. I remember saying to my friend, "I can't believe it's legal to smoke and drive!"

Then, of course, the tolerance kicked in. Instead of smoking to get that high, we started smoking just to not feel like shit. Pretty common story. So anyway, I've been smoking for about nine years now, off and on. I've made numerous attempts to quit, some of them even successful, but I'd always end up coming back to Mr. Camel. Or Mr. Basic. Or Mr. Nat Sherman. Or Mr. Dunhill. Or whomever.

It'd always go the same way. I'd use the patch (which is a godsend for me). I'd feel like shit for a few days. I'd feel pretty bad for a week. I'd feel mildly bad for another week. Then I'd be fine. Then, I'd go for maybe weeks, maybe even months without smoking a single cigarette, or even really feeling the urge to. Then one fateful night I'd go out drinking with some friends. I'd get a few drinks in me, have some laughs, and then someone would pull out a cigarette and light up. I'd turn to them and say, "Hey, gimmie one of those." They'd look at me, knowing I'm an ex-smoker, and say, "You sure?" to which I'd reply, "Of course I'm sure. I'm drunk!" Then it'd be all over.

There are people that can quit smoking for good, but still light up once or twice at a party or special occasion. I'm not one of those people. I don't have a completely addictive personality, but in little nooks and crannies of my psyche', I'm like a crack addict when I get started on something. Smoking is one of these things. The physical pains of withdrawal are bad enough, but for me the worst part is the psychological aspect. I've associated cigarettes with pretty much everything I do, from driving, to sitting at my computer, to having a cup of coffee, to watching TV, to a post-dinner treat. When I don't smoke, I don't just feel withdrawal pains. I feel like I don't have my pants on.

So tomorrow I'm going to quit again, and this time I'm going to really try and quit for good. This will probably be my ninth serious attempt. Like Mark Twain once said, "quitting smoking is the easiest thing in the world. I know because I've done it thousands of times." I guess from that point of view I'm well on my way. So over the next several days I'm going to be chronicling my epic journey into the depths of nicotine-deprived madness. And you, my loyal friends, are coming along with me.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Nightlife

Nightlife. My city is rather odd in this respect. On the one hand, it has a surprising amount of places to go after hours, but the caveat is that the only real thing you can do is get drunk. Now, I've got nothing against getting drunk. In fact, I enjoy a good drink and time out laughing, socializing, and participating in general debauchery. The only issue is the ratio of bars to, oh, I don't know, dance clubs, pool halls, and other establishments where you can get your drink on, and do other things as well.

Since hitting a bar is more or less a given on a night out in my city, this poses the next question: Where? 90% of the bars downtown are all clustered together on a waterfront street that stretches as far as the eye can see. Drinking establishments on this strip come in all sizes and flavors, from blue collar working class bars, to obnoxious frat boy bars, to neon-striped martini bars, and everything in between. The problem is they're all clustered together in this one street that is a constant venue for a parade of drunken idiots of all sizes and genres. You should see the police presence thirty minutes before last call. You'd think that martial law was about to be enacted. So while there are plenty of options on this street, they're all squished together in a clusterfuck of beer drinking morons and state power. Obviously, this isn't my local of choice when I want to get my drink on.

This has led me back to one of my older haunts, a hipster bar called the Whiteheart. I love and hate this bar at the same time. On the one hand, it's the only bar on its street for a good half-mile, which results in a homogeneous population and a relatively calm environment. On the other hand, I hate this homogeneous population. The bar is directly across the street from an art college, so 90% of the patrons are young, hipster, "too cool for school" socialites who walk under a palpable cloud that they're the hottest thing in fashion this season. Just wait until you start a conversation with them. You're struck by an overpowering urge to rifle through your pocket in hope of finding a needle that you can use to pop their straining bubble of ego and overvalued sense of self-worth. But I digress. They're better than the frat boys.

So what's a drink of choice on a cold night downtown? I have to confess that sometimes I get the overpowering urge for a "girly drink." Granted, I've only had an Alabama slammer once in my life, but then again, I really enjoyed it. If I'm feeling in the mood for a femme drink, my usual poison of choice is a white Russian. God damn, I love those things, especially when chased with a PBR for the surreal combination of tasteful class and white trash. Oh, and always remember to tip well - it'll come back to you in the form of bigger drinks.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Hedonism

Hedonism has cultivated a fairly negative reputation in the West, especially in the United States, where it's come to represent such unflattering meanings as "lazy," "selfish," "excess," and - in the more conservative necks of the woods - even "sinful." Hedonism began with a great reputation, starting with the Greeks, and then adopted by the Romans, spreading to Egypt and other locals. Then Rome fell, and the Church, as usual, ruined everything.

Hedonism simply means the pursuit of pleasure. On the face of it, when you take a step back and shake off the lens that society has placed in front of you since you were a toddler, what's so bad about pleasure? There's a great saying about sex that I'll paraphrase (while forgetting the name of the author), "In America, sex is an obsession. Everywhere else, it's a fact." Of course, carnal pleasure is only one very small slice of the pleasure pie, but it's what always gets everyone up in arms the most.

A successful hedonist indulges in pleasure with moderation and balance. It's very Eastern, in a way. Pleasure should be actively sought everywhere, whether in lunch, an evening cocktail, a massage, a vacation, sunbathing, or a sensuous lover. We're the only modern democratic state, to the best of my knowledge, that doesn't have vacation days mandated by law. We're obsessed with perfection: getting the perfect body, climbing the corporate ladder, running the treadmill of tasks to reach goals in the dream of being "successful." Politically correct pleasure, as an ideal, is always something that's in the future. It's an abstract goal that we're constantly striving for, putting off day-to-day pleasure in the hope that by the time we hit retirement we'll be able to get a hearty slap on the back from some unknown approving hand and some sort of acknowledgment and recognition of our "success" in life. It ain't gonna happen.

A friend of mine suggested I read "The Hedonism Handbook" by Michael Flocker. It's part meat, part fluff, part history, and sprinkled with tidbits of wisdom on every page. I'll quote from a passage:

On a recent trip to Barcelona with a friend, I was amused to find that many businesses really do close shop for several hours in the middle of the day. The happy and friendly residents of the city tend not to go out to dinner until nine or ten in the evening, and it's customary to head out for a drink some time around midnight. My friend and I were told by the hotel staff that no one goes to dance clubs before two in the morning. Armed with typical American skepticism, we assumed that this meant that the clubs don't really get hopping until about two in the morning. Cut to: Two American tourists standing alone in a cavernous dance club at 1:45.

To the swarthy and sexy residents of this seaside city, it seemed only logical that the hours between midnight and two were for socializing at bars. Then when the bars close at two, if the urge to dance is stronger than the urge to retire, off you go. And so it went, usually until about six in the morning. After several nights of such debauchery, my friend and I found ourselves in conversation with the manager of our hotel. Naively, we asked him, "How does anybody get any work done if they close the businesses in the middle of the day and go out partying every night until the early morning?" The look of pity on his face spoke volumes. He smiled and confided in a most delightfully resigned manner, "You know, in America you are all in this mad race to be number one. And you know what? You win! You can be number one. Here, we would rather enjoy our lives."

This statement was simple, but the truth it touched up on was a significant one. The frantic race to be number one is a sad and desperate compulsion. Whatever happened to just playing the game? Don't parents teach that to their children? When did the rules change? When did it become a disappointment for an Olympic athlete to win a silver medal? Is happiness reserved exclusively for the one individual who places first, and everyone else is expected to shrink back in shame and disappointment? Who's the genius who came up with that perspective?

This concept is shockingly foreign to me, and it raises a lot of questions about life, personal goals, and happiness. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy pleasure. Pleasure is fun - but I'd never really adopted pleasure as a philosophy. Reading this book has forced me to re-examine my own life and to look to the future with a different eye. Of course, we all need money and steady work. I'm very thankful that I have the opportunity to pursue a college education, and I'll definitely be seeing it through - but it's made me question what I do with my life after graduation. And more importantly, how I spend my free time.


This book isn't the end all, be all of hedonistic thought, but it's a good place to start for a neophyte such as myself. More updates as they come. For now? I'm definitely penciling evening cocktails into my schedule.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

The Life of the Student

Everyone bitches about their workload; it's a habit probably cultivated by the need to impress others and the desire to feel like we're doing something challenging (if not always useful) with our lives. My friends all bitch about their work, to which I listen to with good natured acceptance because they listen to my bitching in return. As a college student, though, I've recently thought that my friends truly lacked an appreciation for the amount of work I have to do - or at least an understanding. Perhaps it can be difficult to take an undergrad student seriously when they complain about their workload. I'm sure the lifestyle might seem to be that of friends, beer, parties, and lots of free time coupled with the occasional exam or paper.

Aided by modern technology, I'd like to put that assumption to rest by displaying the amount of reading I have to complete, analyze, and write about for this semester, for two classes. Of course, this doesn't account for roughly twenty online PDF readings, averaging about 20 pages each, that I have to download, print, and read in addition to my stack of books.

As you can see, my partying time is rather limited. This isn't a post to whine, but rather to educate. I'd like to think I'm doing my part here for undergraduate students all across the country. Just wait until graduate school.

Another Snow Day

What's up with this winter? I love it. I'm a huge fan of snow, mainly because I don't have to shovel a driveway, or drive 20 miles to work in raging storms. I do, on the other hand, get the benefits of repeated snow days. You can just tell I'm a highly motivated learner, can't you? Of course, this is probably just a precursor, an indicator of dramatic weather patterns to come due to global warming, and when the Earth collapses in upon itself, I probably won't be smiling the way I am right now, but the hell with it - that's at least a few years away, right?

I love electronics, and I love toys, and I recently scratched my consumer itch by getting a very nice digital camera - a Canon PowerShot 950 IS.

This thing is a real treat. My Dad used to be a professional photographer back in the '80s, and when digital cameras first started to become popular, he was in heaven; great photographs with no film or development time. I know there are purists out there who view photography as more of an art form, and enjoy the darkroom process and the various tricks you can use with real film that can be difficult to replicate digitally, but man, the quality of pictures you can get for such a small time investment is just astounding.

For anyone looking to buy a digital camera in the near future, I've learned a few things about the process. Whenever I buy a relatively expensive piece of technology, I really try and do my research. This is usually a long, painful process of viewing multiple reviews, browsing online forums, asking questions, and repeating the process as many times as necessary until I feel confident in my purchase. I think I looked at about twenty different cameras over a two week period before settling on this one.

If you're new to photography and want a good first camera, get a "point-and-shoot." These usually range between $150-$400, are small and easy to carry, and technology is now at the point where you can get some really beautiful photographs out of these little powerhouses. In our society, everybody loves numbers, and conventional wisdom is that bigger = better. This isn't necessarily the case with megapixels. One megapixel equals one million pixels, or dots of resolution on your photograph. Most cameras, even the cheap ones, sport at least 5 megapixels, and some, like the one I purchased, go as high as 12. This is important to a degree, but you only really need more than five or six if you're going to be making large prints or zooming in and cropping parts of your photos where that extra resolution is needed. I purchased my camera not because of its high megapixels, but because of several other factors.

One of the most important things to consider is how cameras handle colors. In my quest to find the perfect camera, I learned that the general consensus is that Sony cameras, while having their strong points, have a difficult time producing rich colors that truly reflect the image you're shooting. Canon cameras have an excellent reputation in this department, and it'd be hard to go wrong with most of their PowerShot line. Of course, as always, do your own research. Power up and shooting speed are also something to consider. You probably want to avoid cameras that take four seconds to power up after you hit the button because you'll run the risk of missing a once-in-a-lifetime shot. Also, some cameras take longer than others to cycle between shots, especially when using a flash. Part of this has to do with the speed of your memory card, but I'll touch on that later.

Other considerations, while less important, should be looked at. Most cameras sport at least a 2.5" LCD screen, which is really all you need, but some come in sizes of 3" which are just plain pretty. Usually to get an LCD in that size you'll have to sacrifice the optical viewfinder, though, which may be a problem for some. These days the optical viewfinder doesn't tend to be all that necessary for most, but it's always nice to have in a pinch if you need to stand way back from what you're shooting, or sun glare makes the LCD impossible to see clearly. I'd also recommend a camera with an internal lithium-ion rechargeable battery as opposed to AA batteries as they're smaller, less of a hassle to carry around, and come with their own recharger. It'd also be worth your time to find out what the control scheme is like, how many bells and whistles there are, manual settings, ease of navigation, etc. While most point-and-shoot cameras don't come with a lot of manual settings, you should at least be able to change basic light settings in various increments. At this point this is a pretty standardized feature though, and will probably only be discussed in reviews if it's omitted.

Image Stabilization is a really nice feature that most of the newer cameras have started to adopt. I couldn't tell you the technical mechanics of how it works, but basically the lens has a special component that reduces blur by compensating for shaky hands. If you drink as much coffee as I do, this is a feature you'll probably want. You also might want to look at how much "noise" or grain the camera produces at higher ISO speeds (every review will touch on this and explain what I mean here far better than I could). Finally, you'll want a large, fast memory card - at least 2GB, and probably 4GB to be on the safe side, especially if you're using a high megapixel camera that uses a lot of disk space per shot. I highly recommend the SanDisk Extreme III SDHC card (if your camera can support it) - it's incredibly fast, which will increase your transfer speed from camera to hard drive, and decrease your time between shots. This card will run you about $60 online, and is worth every penny.

One last note: After you do all your research and find your dream camera, buy it online! NEVER buy from a retail store like Best Buy or Circuit City. You'll save at least $50 (sometimes more than $100) ordering your camera online. To put this in perspective, my $60 SD card costs $130 at Circuit City. Whew - that ran a little longer than expected. If you're in the market for a camera, I hope this helped. Send me some pics!