These Are a Few of My Favorite Things

the sound of a train whistle
the smell of cilantro
Bob's laugh
Patrick's hugs
reruns of "Frasier" and "The King of Queens"
Fenway Park
ginger ale
leaf-shaped cookies from Modern Pastry Shop on Franklin Avenue
Art Six coffee
my grandmother's words of wisdom
Sports Center
baseball season
newspapers
magazines
Shakespeare
Groundhog Day
The Sound of Music
"Monk"
"Thriller"
sleeping
teaching
learning
cleaning
smiling

Trivia

In ancient Rome, a trivium was an intersection of three roads (tri, "three" + vium, road).
When people met at a trivium, what did they tend to do? According to the Romans, they would shoot the breeze and discuss trivialis ("inconsequential things") – which eventually helped give trivia its modern meaning. (From Merriam-Webster Online)

I wanted to title this entry "All-Time Triples Leader," but I do not know who holds that title. I would love to be partial to one of my favorite baseball players, Nomar Garciaparra, and call him the leader, but I'd have to consult my older brother's vast sports knowledge for verification.

Instead, I called this entry "Trivia" because it is full of useless tidbits (as many self-indulgent blogs are) about this past year of my life. I found Merriam-Webster's passage on the word's etymology interesting because I am approaching my third decade. The number 3 dominated my behavioral patterns this year. I hope next year, my thirtieth on this planet, will bring more surprises and challenges but also some peace of mind. A wrap-up of 2010's highlights (or low lights):

--I sported three different hair colors.
--I changed jobs three times.
--I was dumped three times by the same person.
--I finished my third course toward my teacher certification (and earned my third A in the process).
--I eagerly anticipated a third win for the Bills, who finally managed to score one.
--I had three different telephone numbers.
--I was arrested for an unpaid traffic ticket about three yards from my front door (ALMOST escaped the heat!).
--I saw three great live acts: Keane, Ingrid Michaelson, and The Black Keys.
--I was lucky enough to have the love, comfort, and support of many more than three great friends as I wallowed, cried, and struggled to find myself.

Here's to 2011 and my next decade. Happy new year! Thanks to my family and friends for everything you've done for me.

Time is a Privilege

I often consider the disparities between Americans, and one of the ways I view such disparities stems from distinctions of the working classes. Now, let me first explain that my interpretation of "working class" does not adhere to the customary, blue-collar view of a working American. Instead, I simply mean those who do whatever work they can find in order to support themselves financially. These workers may not reap the benefits of rewarding work and are often so unfortunate as to loathe their jobs.

What specifically prompted my consideration of this topic is a passage from Frank McCourt's book, Teacher Man. McCourt details his experience as a public school teacher in New York City. He recalls his interactions with the parents of children who struggled to pass his courses. Many parents, upon McCourt's urging for them to spend more time supervising homework and providing tutoring opportunities, reacted with claims of not having enough time because of the demands of their jobs. They argued that ensuring their children's success in the classroom fell solely upon McCourt as a job responsibility.

Some argue that they lack opportunities for working in their desired fields. For instance, those who aspire to act or sing may be hampered by lack of financial assistance for professional training. Many yearn for higher education opportunities but miss their chances when obligations such as work and family call. Such obligations take away precious time that can be used to cultivate passions, formulate ideas, create art, and share feelings about the human condition. Is it elitist to conclude that only those who have attended college are capable of participating in such lifestyles?

My studies of the Romantic poets--Shelley, Keats, and Byron--led me to believe these writers luxuriated in ample amounts of time to do whatever they wanted. I do not suggest that these men shirked their responsibilities as citizens, but they certainly appeared to spend their days as they pleased, observing their natural surroundings and writing nature's praises. How lucky writers such as these were to spend their days unconfined and unrestricted by mandated tasks or goals to reach financial means. How fortunate are those who spend their days unhampered by job descriptions or expectations from superiors. I am just as fortunate as I sit at my desk at work, composing this entry, free to think beyond the measures of my job.

Of course, those who have so much time that they don't know how to spend it must be careful in their choices. They should be generous and thoughtful and willing to give to the greater good of community. I have found that monetary excesses do not always contribute to charitable means. Donating time does. Time is a gift.