Frank and I don't have cable. We have a digital antenna, HuluPlus, and Netflix. (And of course, I can pass hour after hour watching videos on YouTube.) All together, it really helps keep us entertained well.
Every once in a while, we'll go to someone's house who has all 2 million channels cable TV offers. Before we bought our house and lived in an apartment, we had cable, and paid about $120 per month for it, and the majority of the channels were the ones we didn't watch. We really think cable should be available à la carte, in other words, only pay for the channels you want to watch...none of this "package" bullshit.
Anyway, we were at a relative's house, and we were watching Oxygen, and it was showing What's Love Got To Do With It, the very amazing, very sad, very inspiring true story of pop/soul singer Tina Turner's life. But what really irritated me wasn't so much the commercial breaks, but the kinds of reality shows they were promoting. The main show being advertised was The Bad Girls Club, and it showed a few clips of women fighting, pulling each other's hair, bad-mouthing each other, and I thought to myself:
I can't believe people are entertained by this crap.
It's TRUE! These shows wouldn't be on the air unless there were people wanting to watch this...crap.
Have we really sunken so low as a society, as a culture to want to watch and be entertained by others' misbehavior? I mean, really?!
I concede I've never watched The Bad Girls Club and cannot just judge based on the commercial...but...I can. What else is a TV show with such a title supposed to be about? What? Are they doing charity work making sure more villages in Africa are getting clean drinking water? I doubt it.
But then after being repulsed by the commercial I had just seen, I thought more about other reality shows:
Jersey Shore
Keeping Up With the Kardashians
Real Housewives of [insert city here]
I'm sure there are more I'm not thinking of, but that's all I can get off the top of my head that have NO plot, no "writers", and just watch people doing stupid shit, catching it on camera, and therefore making their viewers think, Okay, I'm not as bad as Snooki or start passing judgments like, Kim had a $3 million wedding, and she was divorced in less than 3 months?! That's messed up!
That's because it is messed up.
We either don't like our own lives, or are too bored with them that we want to see how others live and compare lifestyles. The truth is when we see someone party hard on national TV, and then do something very humiliating, we tend to think better about ourselves, taking comfort in the fact that there's someone out there who's making worse decisions than we do.
The only reality shows I can understand are those that are competitions for a prize:
American Idol
X Factor
The Voice
Sing-Off
[insert country]'s Got Talent
The Glee Project
America's Next Top Model
Project Runway
So You Think You Can Dance
Dancing With the Stars
I get all those because there, actually talented people are given the time to shine to show the world what they can do. But as for all the other reality shows I mentioned, those have no point other than to let viewers see humans behaving badly.
Then there are the shows that are a mix of behaving badly, and getting a prize:
Celebrity Apprentice
Hell's Kitchen
Master Chef
We also have some educational reality shows:
Myth Busters
...and shows featuring people with unusual lifestyles:
19 Children and Counting (or whatever the Duggars' show is called)
(Jon and) Kate + 8
...shows that inspire and do good for others:
Extreme Makeover: Home Edition
The Biggest Loser
My biggest beef with reality TV is more against shows like the first 3 I mentioned. There seems to be no point to them whatsoever except feeling better about yourself because someone's a bigger idiot than you.
Sadly, right now it seems that American entertainment is becoming predominantly - unless it already is predominantly - about watching other people, and living vicariously through them. Why must we do this? Why must such entertainment exist? I'm grateful we still have great shows with actual writers telling a story - stories that make us laugh, cry, watch in awe, leave us in suspense, play with our fantasies, dreams, and guilty pleasures, etc.
I guess the reason we have so many different types of shows is that so many different types of people live in this country, and everyone is entertained in their own way. Two people can watch Family Guy, and while one will be laughing hysterically, the other will be repulsed by the irreverent humor. But even if this highly simplified explanation for the justification of the variety of entertainment now available, it doesn't change the fact that there are still millions of people out there who are entertained by the trashier, pointless shows.
This has been a reality check about reality TV.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Sunday, April 22, 2012
...smile because it happened
The events of this week have left me emotionally and physically exhausted. My uncle, my mom's older brother (the 2nd of 6 siblings), passed away. He had been diagnosed with cancer about 2 years ago, and the cancer ultimately won, but not before he and his family fought with everything they had to make as many memories as they could while they could.
The last time I saw my uncle was Thanksgiving 2011. Looking back on it, how fitting that that would be the last time I'd see him, because when you're diagnosed with a life-threatening illness, everyday is a gift and worthy of thanks to God. Well, really, every day is a gift from God period, and none of us know when our last day is. We don't know which will be our last meal, the last time we'll see a friend or family member, or the last time doing anything. We are alive for a finite number of days, and it's what you do during those days that tell the world what kind of person you were.
That being said, my uncle was a good man, and during his lifetime, he did the best he could all the while sticking fiercely to his convictions, his principles, and his beliefs. He was a gentleman, teacher, friend, uncle, brother, cousin, nephew, and loving and devoted husband and father to his 3 children. He had two daughters and one son, and they're all accomplished professionals. He was a chemical engineer, and his wife an educator. One daughter teaches at the university level, the other daughter is a pediatrician, and the son is an engineer. Like I said, he and his wife raised amazing children, who just so happen to be my cousins. And I'm proud to be related to them all.
My uncle was a great man who loved to play golf, and taught an awkward nephew (me) how to play it too. One of my fondest memories was when he, his son, and I were at the driving range at the local country club. Being the odd person I am, I may be right-handed, but I usually hold sticks (hockey sticks, golf clubs, baseball bats) left-handed. Since he couldn't accommodate my needs, I was forced to adjust to what was available to learn to play golf, using his right-handed equipment. I remember taking his driver and swinging the club. Out of 10 swings, I think I hit the ball once, and when I hit it, it veered to the far right, and I couldn't figure out why. Upon careful observation, he came to the conclusion that because of my paralyzed eye, I probably had a depth perception problem...which is true. However, after lots of patience with a clumsy nephew, he realized the reason my strokes were sending the ball so far to the right was because I wasn't keeping my arms straight; by the time the club struck the ball, it was turned to the right because my hands were crooked! Once we diagnosed that problem, all I had to worry about was my depth perception...oh, and the other problem that whenever I'd hit the ball, and it'd go up to where you'd see a white dot in the blue sky, I could no longer keep track of it the farther it went, and I'd have no idea where it would fall.
I guess I'll forever be a putt-putt man.
Another fond memory I have is that he had a green 1969 (I think) Jaguar E-type convertible. It was a gorgeous antique, complete with an 8-track player! I've always loved cars, and having grown up loving Hot Wheels, any time I'd go over to my cousin's house, he'd permit us to play in the car. My cousin and I would sit inside pretending to race down a traffic-free highway, wind in our hair, music blasting. It was awesome. I also remember how he showed me how to turn it on. Yes, you'd put the key in the ignition, but once you did that, there was a black button you had to push, and THAT was how you started the engine, and my Hot Wheels-based mind thought that was sooooo James Bond, and therefore, insanely cool!
One last memory I'll leave you, my reader, with, is how he took a family tradition, and modified it for those who needed the modification, to promote full inclusion for all.
Let me set this up by saying that when I was growing up, he and his family lived in Port Arthur (East Texas), and in about 1997 moved to Laredo where the rest of us lived, on the border to Mexico. For years, they'd come and stay at my grandmother's house for Christmas.
Our family has a Christmas tradition called the posada (literally meaning "shelter" in Spanish), where we re-enact the Holy Family's journey to Bethlehem for Jesus' birth. Once they moved to Laredo, they wanted to host it too, so on Christmas week, my mom and 3 of her siblings each host a separate posada at their home. When we do this tradition each Christmas, we sing a song, a capella, in Spanish. The men portray the innkeepers while the ladies portray the pilgrims seeking shelter. It's a sung dialogue. However, since my cousins lived in Port Arthur, they didn't grow up in a bilingual environment like the rest of us, and when they moved, my aunt's family came to their house to share in the tradition, and they weren't Spanish speakers either. So my uncle, with his very strong command of linguistics, translated the entire thing, knocking down a years-old language barrier, so those who wished to participate fully now could. And when you're translating a multiple-generations-old tradition from Spanish to English, you cannot translate directly. So he painstakingly took the time to translate the meaning of each verse, so though the language may've been different, the message was identical.
My uncle loved his family - immediate and extended - so, so much. He passed on his love for golf and engineering to his son, his love of science and language arts to his daughters. Family and friends were always welcome in his home. Always the courteous host, whenever I'd visit without my partner, he'd ask how we were doing, and if Frank came down with me, we were made to feel as much at home as anyone else.
Witnessing his wife and kids' strength in the past few days, I'm in awe of their courage, bravery, strength, and love for each other through this tremendously trying time in their lives. It's these characteristics that can help anyone survive even the most trying storms in our lives.
To my uncle: you may be gone, but you left your love with us. I love you, I'll miss you, and I look forward to singing the posada with you again. And by the time we meet again, I hope to make par on the celestial golf course I'm sure they prepared for you.
Don't cry because it's over; smile because it happened. -Unknown
The last time I saw my uncle was Thanksgiving 2011. Looking back on it, how fitting that that would be the last time I'd see him, because when you're diagnosed with a life-threatening illness, everyday is a gift and worthy of thanks to God. Well, really, every day is a gift from God period, and none of us know when our last day is. We don't know which will be our last meal, the last time we'll see a friend or family member, or the last time doing anything. We are alive for a finite number of days, and it's what you do during those days that tell the world what kind of person you were.
That being said, my uncle was a good man, and during his lifetime, he did the best he could all the while sticking fiercely to his convictions, his principles, and his beliefs. He was a gentleman, teacher, friend, uncle, brother, cousin, nephew, and loving and devoted husband and father to his 3 children. He had two daughters and one son, and they're all accomplished professionals. He was a chemical engineer, and his wife an educator. One daughter teaches at the university level, the other daughter is a pediatrician, and the son is an engineer. Like I said, he and his wife raised amazing children, who just so happen to be my cousins. And I'm proud to be related to them all.
My uncle was a great man who loved to play golf, and taught an awkward nephew (me) how to play it too. One of my fondest memories was when he, his son, and I were at the driving range at the local country club. Being the odd person I am, I may be right-handed, but I usually hold sticks (hockey sticks, golf clubs, baseball bats) left-handed. Since he couldn't accommodate my needs, I was forced to adjust to what was available to learn to play golf, using his right-handed equipment. I remember taking his driver and swinging the club. Out of 10 swings, I think I hit the ball once, and when I hit it, it veered to the far right, and I couldn't figure out why. Upon careful observation, he came to the conclusion that because of my paralyzed eye, I probably had a depth perception problem...which is true. However, after lots of patience with a clumsy nephew, he realized the reason my strokes were sending the ball so far to the right was because I wasn't keeping my arms straight; by the time the club struck the ball, it was turned to the right because my hands were crooked! Once we diagnosed that problem, all I had to worry about was my depth perception...oh, and the other problem that whenever I'd hit the ball, and it'd go up to where you'd see a white dot in the blue sky, I could no longer keep track of it the farther it went, and I'd have no idea where it would fall.
I guess I'll forever be a putt-putt man.
Another fond memory I have is that he had a green 1969 (I think) Jaguar E-type convertible. It was a gorgeous antique, complete with an 8-track player! I've always loved cars, and having grown up loving Hot Wheels, any time I'd go over to my cousin's house, he'd permit us to play in the car. My cousin and I would sit inside pretending to race down a traffic-free highway, wind in our hair, music blasting. It was awesome. I also remember how he showed me how to turn it on. Yes, you'd put the key in the ignition, but once you did that, there was a black button you had to push, and THAT was how you started the engine, and my Hot Wheels-based mind thought that was sooooo James Bond, and therefore, insanely cool!
One last memory I'll leave you, my reader, with, is how he took a family tradition, and modified it for those who needed the modification, to promote full inclusion for all.
Let me set this up by saying that when I was growing up, he and his family lived in Port Arthur (East Texas), and in about 1997 moved to Laredo where the rest of us lived, on the border to Mexico. For years, they'd come and stay at my grandmother's house for Christmas.
Our family has a Christmas tradition called the posada (literally meaning "shelter" in Spanish), where we re-enact the Holy Family's journey to Bethlehem for Jesus' birth. Once they moved to Laredo, they wanted to host it too, so on Christmas week, my mom and 3 of her siblings each host a separate posada at their home. When we do this tradition each Christmas, we sing a song, a capella, in Spanish. The men portray the innkeepers while the ladies portray the pilgrims seeking shelter. It's a sung dialogue. However, since my cousins lived in Port Arthur, they didn't grow up in a bilingual environment like the rest of us, and when they moved, my aunt's family came to their house to share in the tradition, and they weren't Spanish speakers either. So my uncle, with his very strong command of linguistics, translated the entire thing, knocking down a years-old language barrier, so those who wished to participate fully now could. And when you're translating a multiple-generations-old tradition from Spanish to English, you cannot translate directly. So he painstakingly took the time to translate the meaning of each verse, so though the language may've been different, the message was identical.
My uncle loved his family - immediate and extended - so, so much. He passed on his love for golf and engineering to his son, his love of science and language arts to his daughters. Family and friends were always welcome in his home. Always the courteous host, whenever I'd visit without my partner, he'd ask how we were doing, and if Frank came down with me, we were made to feel as much at home as anyone else.
Witnessing his wife and kids' strength in the past few days, I'm in awe of their courage, bravery, strength, and love for each other through this tremendously trying time in their lives. It's these characteristics that can help anyone survive even the most trying storms in our lives.
To my uncle: you may be gone, but you left your love with us. I love you, I'll miss you, and I look forward to singing the posada with you again. And by the time we meet again, I hope to make par on the celestial golf course I'm sure they prepared for you.
Don't cry because it's over; smile because it happened. -Unknown
Monday, April 16, 2012
Twenty-foot thick glass wall
I'm so glad I have this blog. When something's in my mind, and I need to get it out, it's a great place to come.
*SIGH*
I'm obsessed. My heart, soul, and mind are obsessed with being a UT student. Yes, I know I've written about this several times already, and in fact, my readers (all 6 of you) are probably thinking, "Get over it!" but, I can't.
My obsession with UT and its reputation as quite possibly the most reputable school in Texas, and among the most reputable in the country, started at LEAST 8 years ago. At least. My brother went there, 3 cousins went there, an uncle went there, but the biggest reason I feel so driven to go there is because of my first piano teacher, Fritz, who earned both his Master's and Doctor of Musical Arts in piano performance from there. Being the gifted and talented music educator he is, working with him in college at Texas A&M International University (TAMIU) changed my world forever, and while studying with him while in college, I was insistent on following in his footsteps, going to his alma mater, and earning a graduate degree at UT.
However, despite having applied there twice, I've been rejected twice, so that made my desire to go to UT grow into this weird...thing...that if I'm not good enough to get into and graduate from UT, then I'm not good enough, generally speaking.
Here's the crazy shit. Again, I have my Bachelor's AND my Master's. Many people went to college, but they didn't all go to grad school. I did, and I earned my degree. If you have a Bachelor's and a Master's, and you want to get another degree, typically, the next step is the Doctorate, and UT is extremely difficult to get into, the higher you go. It's also even MORE difficult to get into if you've never been a student there before. I want to be a doctoral student at UT so badly, but.....but..............
............................I don't know what I'd do with it.........................
At least, I don't know as of now.
To add insult to injury, I likely would've been accepted to UT when I was in college had I started fresh or transferred. Hell, had I decided to earn a graduate degree there after getting a Bachelor's there, I likely could've done that too because my records would already be in the system, and I'd know the faculty there well.
So, why didn't I go to UT at the beginning to save myself this crazy-ass obsession I'm living with now, into my 30s?
Four things:
All that being said, UT is my Harvard. UT is also my Juilliard. I love everything about UT. I love the colors of the burnt orange, and making the longhorn sign with my hand. I love yelling, "HOOK 'EM!" during football games. I love seeing the chrome longhorn auto decals on fellow Austin drivers. I LOVE seeing the UT Tower shine orange with a "1" lit up in its windows. And I so desperately wish to be able to walk the campus or drive by the university seeing the orange glow on the Tower and proudly think to myself, This is *my* school. *I* go here. Hook 'em!
But, in my head, I can't connect with that unless I get an acceptance letter welcoming me to the university. It's like there's this window that's completely transparent, and it's 20 feet thick, and each foot between me and being an official UT student is every difficult, tedious step I have to take before I can even really have reason to apply. So instead, I just remain on the other side of the glass wall, banging, screaming, pulling my hair, crying, being resentful and jealous of all the UT students I see walking on the other side of the wall.
It's probably unhealthy, self-damaging, and crazy. I know. I wouldn't doubt it if I needed to go see a therapist about this obsession/dream.
If I want to satisfy this obsession, all I need is an acceptance letter (and ultimately a diploma). But it won't feel right buying my way in with some massive donation. I can't do it that way, even if I had the money. I need to get in the traditional way, and I have many big steps to take to get that process going.
Time will tell, and in the mean time, it will continue to take over my mind.
*SIGH*
I'm obsessed. My heart, soul, and mind are obsessed with being a UT student. Yes, I know I've written about this several times already, and in fact, my readers (all 6 of you) are probably thinking, "Get over it!" but, I can't.
My obsession with UT and its reputation as quite possibly the most reputable school in Texas, and among the most reputable in the country, started at LEAST 8 years ago. At least. My brother went there, 3 cousins went there, an uncle went there, but the biggest reason I feel so driven to go there is because of my first piano teacher, Fritz, who earned both his Master's and Doctor of Musical Arts in piano performance from there. Being the gifted and talented music educator he is, working with him in college at Texas A&M International University (TAMIU) changed my world forever, and while studying with him while in college, I was insistent on following in his footsteps, going to his alma mater, and earning a graduate degree at UT.
However, despite having applied there twice, I've been rejected twice, so that made my desire to go to UT grow into this weird...thing...that if I'm not good enough to get into and graduate from UT, then I'm not good enough, generally speaking.
Here's the crazy shit. Again, I have my Bachelor's AND my Master's. Many people went to college, but they didn't all go to grad school. I did, and I earned my degree. If you have a Bachelor's and a Master's, and you want to get another degree, typically, the next step is the Doctorate, and UT is extremely difficult to get into, the higher you go. It's also even MORE difficult to get into if you've never been a student there before. I want to be a doctoral student at UT so badly, but.....but..............
............................I don't know what I'd do with it.........................
At least, I don't know as of now.
To add insult to injury, I likely would've been accepted to UT when I was in college had I started fresh or transferred. Hell, had I decided to earn a graduate degree there after getting a Bachelor's there, I likely could've done that too because my records would already be in the system, and I'd know the faculty there well.
So, why didn't I go to UT at the beginning to save myself this crazy-ass obsession I'm living with now, into my 30s?
Four things:
- I didn't feel ready to leave my hometown, and be on my own.
- I lived 5 minutes away from TAMIU, which saved money on apartment rent, and my mom worked there...and still does.
- Fritz worked there, and I loved learning from him.
- Being the small university it was, I was able to get scholarships all the way through. The student loan debt I have came from earning my Master's.
All that being said, UT is my Harvard. UT is also my Juilliard. I love everything about UT. I love the colors of the burnt orange, and making the longhorn sign with my hand. I love yelling, "HOOK 'EM!" during football games. I love seeing the chrome longhorn auto decals on fellow Austin drivers. I LOVE seeing the UT Tower shine orange with a "1" lit up in its windows. And I so desperately wish to be able to walk the campus or drive by the university seeing the orange glow on the Tower and proudly think to myself, This is *my* school. *I* go here. Hook 'em!
But, in my head, I can't connect with that unless I get an acceptance letter welcoming me to the university. It's like there's this window that's completely transparent, and it's 20 feet thick, and each foot between me and being an official UT student is every difficult, tedious step I have to take before I can even really have reason to apply. So instead, I just remain on the other side of the glass wall, banging, screaming, pulling my hair, crying, being resentful and jealous of all the UT students I see walking on the other side of the wall.
It's probably unhealthy, self-damaging, and crazy. I know. I wouldn't doubt it if I needed to go see a therapist about this obsession/dream.
If I want to satisfy this obsession, all I need is an acceptance letter (and ultimately a diploma). But it won't feel right buying my way in with some massive donation. I can't do it that way, even if I had the money. I need to get in the traditional way, and I have many big steps to take to get that process going.
Time will tell, and in the mean time, it will continue to take over my mind.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
NO TALKING! (An angry rant)
DISCLAIMER - This post contains strong language.
Dear fellow movie-goers,
How much do we pay to go to the movies nowadays? I remember when tickets used to cost $3.50 for kids, and $5.50 for adults. Today I went to see Wrath of the Titans and paid $14 total for 2 tickets. Having paid for a pleasant movie experience, I want to have a pleasant movie experience.
When I moved to Austin, Frank introduced me to a theater that blew my mind: the Alamo Drafthouse. It's your average movie theater, except they take audience etiquette very seriously. No other theater, to my knowledge, does that. Not AMC, not Cinemark, nothing else. In fact, Alamo Drafthouse is so serious about being a courteous movie-goer, that right before the feature begins, they offer Public Service Announcements (PSAs) that explain their rules and expectations.
The Drafthouse's rule is simple: talk, text, tweet, or disturb your neighbors in any way, and your ass is getting kicked out without a refund. You know what I think of that?
FUCK YEAH!!!
It's because of the Drafthouse's policy that I no longer go to any other movie theater. Every time you walk into a movie theater, you're likely surrounded by people who've paid the same amount, a little less, or more than you (if they paid for a small or large group of people). So, why would you be so rude as to rob them of the theater experience they paid for by opening your fat fucking mouth? If I wanted to hear people rant about random shit, all I have to do is walk around downtown Austin! For fuck's sake, we even had an awesome homeless transvestite named Leslie who ran for mayor one year, and got 10% of the vote!
Keep Austin Weird, baby!
And if your phone rings, that bitch better be on silent - or at the MOST vibrate - because if a ringtone goes off, you better hope that the music in the movie is loud enough to cover it up, otherwise, at the Drafthouse, you risk getting kicked out. Instead, you become the most hated asshole in the theater because your fucking phone distracted everyone's attention from the story THEY PAID TO WATCH. Part of why people go to the movies in the first place is to get away from their own life's problems for a couple hours. When your phone lights up in a dark movie theater, anyone in or behind your row gets distracted from the story to look at whatever the hell is on your phone's screen. So when you talk or text during the movie, you're essentially pulling them out of the fantasy they're trying to enter, reminding them of the real world, and all the assholes, including yourself, who help make it up.
The late Ann Richards, former Texas governor (you know, before Dumb and Dumber took over), was a regular patron to the Drafthouse, so it's only fitting she was featured in one of their PSAs.
Why did this whole policy kick in at the Drafthouse? A local Austin news station interviewed the CEO Tim League himself as to the reasons behind the rule that makes the Drafthouse my and many other Austin movie-goers our new favorite theater.
Below is the uncensored voicemail PSA about the texter who was kicked out of the theater, and by far, my FAVORITE Drafthouse PSA.
It bugs the ever-lovin' shit out of me when I see someone using their phone or talking during a movie. Can you not shut the fuck up for 2 hours?! You wanna talk and text during a movie? Fine. Get the movie on Netflix and watch it in the comfort of your own home. Don't be a douche and interrupt my and other patrons' experience.
If you're going to the movies, fine. But do us all a favor, and shut. the fuck. up.
Love,
Me
Dear fellow movie-goers,
How much do we pay to go to the movies nowadays? I remember when tickets used to cost $3.50 for kids, and $5.50 for adults. Today I went to see Wrath of the Titans and paid $14 total for 2 tickets. Having paid for a pleasant movie experience, I want to have a pleasant movie experience.
When I moved to Austin, Frank introduced me to a theater that blew my mind: the Alamo Drafthouse. It's your average movie theater, except they take audience etiquette very seriously. No other theater, to my knowledge, does that. Not AMC, not Cinemark, nothing else. In fact, Alamo Drafthouse is so serious about being a courteous movie-goer, that right before the feature begins, they offer Public Service Announcements (PSAs) that explain their rules and expectations.
The Drafthouse's rule is simple: talk, text, tweet, or disturb your neighbors in any way, and your ass is getting kicked out without a refund. You know what I think of that?
FUCK YEAH!!!
It's because of the Drafthouse's policy that I no longer go to any other movie theater. Every time you walk into a movie theater, you're likely surrounded by people who've paid the same amount, a little less, or more than you (if they paid for a small or large group of people). So, why would you be so rude as to rob them of the theater experience they paid for by opening your fat fucking mouth? If I wanted to hear people rant about random shit, all I have to do is walk around downtown Austin! For fuck's sake, we even had an awesome homeless transvestite named Leslie who ran for mayor one year, and got 10% of the vote!
Keep Austin Weird, baby!
And if your phone rings, that bitch better be on silent - or at the MOST vibrate - because if a ringtone goes off, you better hope that the music in the movie is loud enough to cover it up, otherwise, at the Drafthouse, you risk getting kicked out. Instead, you become the most hated asshole in the theater because your fucking phone distracted everyone's attention from the story THEY PAID TO WATCH. Part of why people go to the movies in the first place is to get away from their own life's problems for a couple hours. When your phone lights up in a dark movie theater, anyone in or behind your row gets distracted from the story to look at whatever the hell is on your phone's screen. So when you talk or text during the movie, you're essentially pulling them out of the fantasy they're trying to enter, reminding them of the real world, and all the assholes, including yourself, who help make it up.
The late Ann Richards, former Texas governor (you know, before Dumb and Dumber took over), was a regular patron to the Drafthouse, so it's only fitting she was featured in one of their PSAs.
Why did this whole policy kick in at the Drafthouse? A local Austin news station interviewed the CEO Tim League himself as to the reasons behind the rule that makes the Drafthouse my and many other Austin movie-goers our new favorite theater.
Below is the uncensored voicemail PSA about the texter who was kicked out of the theater, and by far, my FAVORITE Drafthouse PSA.
It bugs the ever-lovin' shit out of me when I see someone using their phone or talking during a movie. Can you not shut the fuck up for 2 hours?! You wanna talk and text during a movie? Fine. Get the movie on Netflix and watch it in the comfort of your own home. Don't be a douche and interrupt my and other patrons' experience.
If you're going to the movies, fine. But do us all a favor, and shut. the fuck. up.
Love,
Me
The last step
I've been wresting with the idea of earning a Ph.D. for quite some time...years. The one school from which I'd like to earn it is UT, in Music and Human Learning. But before I can take any step to go in that direction, I really have to sit and reflect on everything it would affect in my life before doing it.
So, I spoke with a colleague of mine whom I truly admire and respect for everything she has done and will do, both professionally and personally.
"What do you want to do with that degree?" she asked.
"I don't know, I just know I want to get it."
"Hmm. I think you're going about it backwards. You should probably have a career goal, and then go about taking the steps necessary to achieve that goal. So, do you know what you wanna be when you grow up?" she wittily asked.
"See, that's the thing," I answered. "I'm not sure. I really like what I'm doing, teaching music. Right now, or for the foreseeable future, I can't see what else I'd be doing."
She's pursuing a Ph.D. online, because she wants to eventually be a curriculum writer. And knowing her skill level as an educator, she'd be a damn good one.
The only other Ph.D. that barely appeals to me is one at Texas State. They have Ph.D.s in education, but they're for educational administration. They have 2 programs: 1) school improvement, (preparing you to be a school or school district administrator), and 2) adult, professional, and community education (APCE), (preparing you to be the director of education programs, like GEDs or other things like that).
Though I can kind of see myself in the APCE field, I'm not sure it's something I want. Now, I'm totally aware that my future career goals could come into fruition, and I could start to see myself doing something later that I can't see now, I just have no idea if/when that "vision" will reveal itself.
Right now, I'm in my 5th year teaching elementary music, and I love it. I don't want to do anything else. I'm also making more professional investments by earning more certifications to make myself more professionally marketable. Though I was only initially certified to teach music in grades PK-12, I'm now almost certified to be either a bilingual or ESL generalist classroom teacher. I have no intentions of using these certifications once I get them all. I'm strictly getting them for professional marketability, and more importantly, in case, God forbid, the arts are ever cut in my district, and my job gets eliminated, I have other certifications I can use to keep me employed.
I've earned my Master's already, which, academically speaking, is the 2nd highest degree anyone can earn. I have to give the most credit to my parents because once I graduated from college, I was being told, "Go get your Master's, and THEN find a job, because if you get a job after college, and then you want a Master's, it'll be very hard to get back into the student mindset." So, I literally started grad school 1 MONTH after graduating college; I graduated in May 2004, and started my first class of grad school in June 2004, and finished a little over 2 years later, December 2006. Haven't been a university student since. The last step is your Doctorate.
So, I've been at the 2nd highest level for about 6 years now, and furthermore, my amazing mom, who's in her early 60s, is about to graduate with HER Ph.D.! Um...WOW! When Mom called me to let me know she had passed her dissertation defense, I talked to Frank about her success:
"Wow, as much as I can't believe she's gotten this far, I actually CAN believe she did." I told him.
"Yes, she's a highly-accomplished woman."
"I mean, she's a full-time university administrator, has worked in higher education for about 30 years, has been married for almost 40, raised 3 kids, and 5 grand kids, she's traveled the world because of one of the university programs she directs, and NOW she's getting a Ph.D. And all this in her 60s! That's AMAZING!"
In jest, Frank added, "Yeah, so...what happened to you? Why didn't you get any of that drive?"
"Hey, I'm lazy, and I admit it freely! Not proud of it, but completely aware of it."
Mom did her Ph.D. over the course of about 8 years, going part-time. She had to take the GRE to get in, she's had to make several trips out of town to different libraries to do her research, and all kinds of things. But she's also very self-disciplined, an attribute that worked totally in her favor.
As for me, there's nothing wrong with having what I already have. I have a Master's, and a lot of people don't even finish college. As Mom told me, whenever I thought about giving up on the Master's, she'd say, "Of course it's hard. If it was easy, everyone would do it!"
So, the only Ph.D. program that appeals to me, is the Ph.D. in Music and Human Learning at UT-Austin. Having researched admission requirements, besides applying, and turning in letters of recommendation, I also have to send them a Curriculum Vitae (CV - a resume), a Statement of Purpose, I have to take and do well on the GRE, a test I loathe, and really brush up on my music history and literature, as my skills will be tested in a 3-hour diagnostic test.
Getting a Ph.D. would take anywhere from 2-5 times longer than my Master's did. It would be hella expensive (and yes, I meant "hella"), I'd have some demanding and high pressure work to do on TOP of my full-time career. And yet, knowing this, my heart still can't look away. I've been given one reason after another by current an former UT students who tell me not to do this because the inconveniences outweigh everything else. And yet, I still can't seem to let go.
Mom is in her 60s. She's busy with her career, taking care of my dad, babysitting 3 of her grandkids, cooks, helps maintain the house, helps out other family members when they need it, and still managed get her Ph.D. done over the years. Oh, and her Ph.D. program is in a city over 4 hours away.
I'm in my 30s. I have a full-time career. The only "kids" I have to take care of are Frank, and our 2 dogs. I don't cook (except for myself), but I do clean...sometimes, and I have nowhere close the number of obligations she has. And my Ph.D. program is in the same city in which I live. So I'm thinking, If Mom can do it, why can't I? I just need 3 big things: the commitment, determination, and, especially, self-discipline.
Ph.D.s are massive undertakings. You have to do "ungodly" amounts of reading, as a former colleague of mine stated, you essentially kiss a social life goodbye, especially if you've got a full-time job, and you're committed to it for several years. So if you want to invest your life in a long-term study, it better be something you're insanely passionate about, and want to get better at it.
Despite all these things that would deter anyone from wanting to take it on, I still want to do it. I've even been told that UT's financial aid office is very difficult to work with. I've been told finding parking will be a regular hassle. I've been told that when I typically come home from work and relax, I'd have to come home and do homework...daily...for several years. I'd probably have to go straight to the library after work and do research...facing all the traffic that goes with it. And by the time I'd come home from the library, it'd probably be time to go to bed. And the routine would have to repeat itself the next day, and so forth.
*SIGH*
And I still want to do it. My mind is SO stubborn, and I know I must drive Frank crazy with how I obsess about this. But I can't help it. I've tried to talk myself out of it, and then it just comes right back. Am I ready to make the sacrifices I'd have to make to get this thing done? What if doing this will help me figure out "What I want to be when I grow up"? It'd be the last step I'd have to take professionally. If I can take on a Ph.D., (a Ph.D. at UT at that), then I think that would prove to myself that there truly is nothing I can't do. And if I can't do it, I can still dream. If I can't take this last step, I know I've already gotten much farther than most. And that in itself, is something to be proud of.
So, I spoke with a colleague of mine whom I truly admire and respect for everything she has done and will do, both professionally and personally.
"What do you want to do with that degree?" she asked.
"I don't know, I just know I want to get it."
"Hmm. I think you're going about it backwards. You should probably have a career goal, and then go about taking the steps necessary to achieve that goal. So, do you know what you wanna be when you grow up?" she wittily asked.
"See, that's the thing," I answered. "I'm not sure. I really like what I'm doing, teaching music. Right now, or for the foreseeable future, I can't see what else I'd be doing."
She's pursuing a Ph.D. online, because she wants to eventually be a curriculum writer. And knowing her skill level as an educator, she'd be a damn good one.
The only other Ph.D. that barely appeals to me is one at Texas State. They have Ph.D.s in education, but they're for educational administration. They have 2 programs: 1) school improvement, (preparing you to be a school or school district administrator), and 2) adult, professional, and community education (APCE), (preparing you to be the director of education programs, like GEDs or other things like that).
Though I can kind of see myself in the APCE field, I'm not sure it's something I want. Now, I'm totally aware that my future career goals could come into fruition, and I could start to see myself doing something later that I can't see now, I just have no idea if/when that "vision" will reveal itself.
Right now, I'm in my 5th year teaching elementary music, and I love it. I don't want to do anything else. I'm also making more professional investments by earning more certifications to make myself more professionally marketable. Though I was only initially certified to teach music in grades PK-12, I'm now almost certified to be either a bilingual or ESL generalist classroom teacher. I have no intentions of using these certifications once I get them all. I'm strictly getting them for professional marketability, and more importantly, in case, God forbid, the arts are ever cut in my district, and my job gets eliminated, I have other certifications I can use to keep me employed.
I've earned my Master's already, which, academically speaking, is the 2nd highest degree anyone can earn. I have to give the most credit to my parents because once I graduated from college, I was being told, "Go get your Master's, and THEN find a job, because if you get a job after college, and then you want a Master's, it'll be very hard to get back into the student mindset." So, I literally started grad school 1 MONTH after graduating college; I graduated in May 2004, and started my first class of grad school in June 2004, and finished a little over 2 years later, December 2006. Haven't been a university student since. The last step is your Doctorate.
So, I've been at the 2nd highest level for about 6 years now, and furthermore, my amazing mom, who's in her early 60s, is about to graduate with HER Ph.D.! Um...WOW! When Mom called me to let me know she had passed her dissertation defense, I talked to Frank about her success:
"Wow, as much as I can't believe she's gotten this far, I actually CAN believe she did." I told him.
"Yes, she's a highly-accomplished woman."
"I mean, she's a full-time university administrator, has worked in higher education for about 30 years, has been married for almost 40, raised 3 kids, and 5 grand kids, she's traveled the world because of one of the university programs she directs, and NOW she's getting a Ph.D. And all this in her 60s! That's AMAZING!"
In jest, Frank added, "Yeah, so...what happened to you? Why didn't you get any of that drive?"
"Hey, I'm lazy, and I admit it freely! Not proud of it, but completely aware of it."
Mom did her Ph.D. over the course of about 8 years, going part-time. She had to take the GRE to get in, she's had to make several trips out of town to different libraries to do her research, and all kinds of things. But she's also very self-disciplined, an attribute that worked totally in her favor.
As for me, there's nothing wrong with having what I already have. I have a Master's, and a lot of people don't even finish college. As Mom told me, whenever I thought about giving up on the Master's, she'd say, "Of course it's hard. If it was easy, everyone would do it!"
So, the only Ph.D. program that appeals to me, is the Ph.D. in Music and Human Learning at UT-Austin. Having researched admission requirements, besides applying, and turning in letters of recommendation, I also have to send them a Curriculum Vitae (CV - a resume), a Statement of Purpose, I have to take and do well on the GRE, a test I loathe, and really brush up on my music history and literature, as my skills will be tested in a 3-hour diagnostic test.
Getting a Ph.D. would take anywhere from 2-5 times longer than my Master's did. It would be hella expensive (and yes, I meant "hella"), I'd have some demanding and high pressure work to do on TOP of my full-time career. And yet, knowing this, my heart still can't look away. I've been given one reason after another by current an former UT students who tell me not to do this because the inconveniences outweigh everything else. And yet, I still can't seem to let go.
Mom is in her 60s. She's busy with her career, taking care of my dad, babysitting 3 of her grandkids, cooks, helps maintain the house, helps out other family members when they need it, and still managed get her Ph.D. done over the years. Oh, and her Ph.D. program is in a city over 4 hours away.
I'm in my 30s. I have a full-time career. The only "kids" I have to take care of are Frank, and our 2 dogs. I don't cook (except for myself), but I do clean...sometimes, and I have nowhere close the number of obligations she has. And my Ph.D. program is in the same city in which I live. So I'm thinking, If Mom can do it, why can't I? I just need 3 big things: the commitment, determination, and, especially, self-discipline.
Ph.D.s are massive undertakings. You have to do "ungodly" amounts of reading, as a former colleague of mine stated, you essentially kiss a social life goodbye, especially if you've got a full-time job, and you're committed to it for several years. So if you want to invest your life in a long-term study, it better be something you're insanely passionate about, and want to get better at it.
Despite all these things that would deter anyone from wanting to take it on, I still want to do it. I've even been told that UT's financial aid office is very difficult to work with. I've been told finding parking will be a regular hassle. I've been told that when I typically come home from work and relax, I'd have to come home and do homework...daily...for several years. I'd probably have to go straight to the library after work and do research...facing all the traffic that goes with it. And by the time I'd come home from the library, it'd probably be time to go to bed. And the routine would have to repeat itself the next day, and so forth.
*SIGH*
And I still want to do it. My mind is SO stubborn, and I know I must drive Frank crazy with how I obsess about this. But I can't help it. I've tried to talk myself out of it, and then it just comes right back. Am I ready to make the sacrifices I'd have to make to get this thing done? What if doing this will help me figure out "What I want to be when I grow up"? It'd be the last step I'd have to take professionally. If I can take on a Ph.D., (a Ph.D. at UT at that), then I think that would prove to myself that there truly is nothing I can't do. And if I can't do it, I can still dream. If I can't take this last step, I know I've already gotten much farther than most. And that in itself, is something to be proud of.
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