The Beach Chair

I could smell her perfume as she entered the classroom 8 minutes late.  Class began on a blistering Sunday morning at the church where it all began.  I met her a few years back and I don't think I could ever forget the words, "She has a cheating bible."  Those were the words I uttered after she had gotten a question right in class while the rest of us were scolded for wearing blank faces.  It was the first time I made her laugh.  Soon after I'd find myself practicing punch lines in front of the mirror hoping I could grab her attention long enough for her to notice how great I was.  Or at least how great thought I was. 

She always sat behind me during bible study.  My nerves arose whenever she dipped her toes into my immediate area.  The closer she was, the more difficult it was to remain still.  I'd shake my foot left and right as it sat on the wooden floor.  I'd toy with my sideburns and found myself clearing my throat more than usual.  Today will be the day I force her smile, I thought.  That thought lasted for more than year. 

I hadn't been in church since early Spring and we were in the middle of Winter, which only reminded me of her impending birthday.  The distance between the two of us made me wonder if she was as special as I initially thought.  She said all the right things when she declined my offer.  She said it was inappropriate for members to date.  I thought I was golden until the realization that I was no longer invincible. 

I could smell her perfume from behind me but this time it didn't sting as much as it used to.  The anger inside me was long gone.  Her runny nose had my undivided attention.  I could only stare at my instructor's lips move up and down but all I heard were her sinuses acting up.  Her voice was as clear as day even when she couldn't find the right words to say.  Then, somebody swung open the side door, hitting my leg in the process.  I had to move my seat and the only available one was beside her.

You hold your head up high and take that seat, I thought.  I sat down and immediately sensed her discomfort upon realizing how close the two chairs actually were.  I could feel her arm leaning against mine followed by a feeling of fulfillment.  I couldn't move even if I wanted to.  All of a sudden I found myself sitting on a beach chair enjoying the sound of waves colliding.  I could've sat there all night. 

The instructor had other plans as he picked on me to answer a question I could hardly understand.  Without thinking I turned to my right and asked her if she could help translate the question.  I nodded my head like a young fool as she spoke.  Her eyes took me to places I never knew existed.  The ability to share the same room was enough for me to keep showing up.  I answered the instructor's question and proceeded to return to my beach chair until the clock struck 12 and it was time to head to the temple. 

Blog Assignment #3: 1922 Eugenicists Baltimore anthropometric study

http://histclo.com/essay/misc/eug/cou/us/meas/balt-as22.html

It felt like an odd day from the start.  Mom and dad wouldn't look me in the eye when they said I had to go see the doctor.  They just told me I'd get a prize if I didn't cause any trouble.  I yawned and rubbed my eyes as I wasn't used to being up this early in the morning on a Saturday.  Ralph and Brian from school mentioned having to see the doctor today as well.  When I asked them if they were sick, they both laughed and said they usually get sick during school days.

The streetcar was filled up by other boys my age, which led me to remove mom's arm from my shoulder.  Upon arriving to the doctor's office, the outside of the building looked more like a factory.  Mom and dad weren't sure where to go until they were met with a few men in suits.  They weren't dressed like doctors.  We entered a room filled with a seated group of boys along with their parents.  A few of the boys only had their moms seated next to them.  My parents looked uncomfortable as they sat straight up without saying much.  Whenever they spoke to the other moms and dads, they made sure to keep their voices low.  Even they didn't seem to know what we were doing here.  I was surprised to see Ralph and Brian and relieved to have somebody to talk to.

We began talking about what the doctor would do to us and thinking back to anything that would've led to our parents bringing us here in the first place.  After laughing at the idea of being sent here for some kind of boot camp, the adults told us to be quiet or else they'll make sure we get shots.  I never liked needles and the thought of one of those big men sticking a needle into my arm scared me silent.  After what felt like hours, the men came into the waiting room and handed each of us a pair of boots and a pair of thick blue overalls.  We were instructed to put them on and then follow the big men into an empty classroom.

The men didn't say much and mostly talked to each other in their deep voices.  I couldn't make out what they were saying but remember their stern voices telling us to line up against the chalkboard and that it'll all be over soon.  They seemed to like Brian the most as they made sure that he was the first one in the line.  They patted us on our heads and smiled as they took notes.  I couldn't make out what was written on the chalkboard as it appeared to be in a different language despite some words looking familiar.

I thought it was weird that we had to pull our shirts down as we stood against the chalkboard.  The vents offered a bit of warmth but it was too cold and a bit strange to be standing half naked in front of a class room.  It felt like I was living out one of my recurring nightmares.  We were eventually allowed to put our normal clothes back on, although I did like how the boots fit.  It was odd seeing so many of the adults hug their boys once we made our way back to the waiting room.  Dad nodded and said we'll talk when we get home.  Mom kept checking my body for any kind of bruises but I told her I was fine.  Ralph, Brain and I said our goodbyes as we got back on the streetcar and made our way home.  When we got home, mom baked some of the best cookies that day and dad even gave me an extra glass of milk.  They told me they weren't sure if I had to return but that I did a great job.  Yeah, I guess I did.

Sports Field

The walk was about twenty minutes away from the train station but it felt like we made it there a lot quicker.  Me and my two pals from high school were in search of an empty baseball field and were told we'd find one just past Hunters Point.  The weather guided us to the opposite side of the grassy fields and onto the side filled with industrial factories and auto repair shops.  The signs were rusty as they appeared to be holding on for dear life.  The other side of the street wasn't as grassy as initially thought.  The uneven concrete only pushed the plants towards each other creating a wild configuration.  Traces of scrap metal and potato chip bags could be found on the ground, almost camouflaging underneath the layers of grass.

We passed by a real estate office, a dog grooming place and a couple of comedy clubs and even some sports bars.  We thought soon we'd be regulars there during Mets games.  The further we walked, the further we felt from our own demographic.  Business suits and skirts flew by us with phones glued to their ears.  Funny that those who were heading towards the train weren't as much in a rush as I thought they'd be.  They were too busy chatting and laughing simultaneously.  The sidewalks drowned in messenger bags and slip-on shoes.  There was no room for parking as cars lined up looking as if they'd been there for years.  The concrete appeared to be getting smoother as we moved closer to field.

Condominiums grew closer as we entered a world that appeared brand new yet vacant.  A banner above a gated area read, "Coming Soon Queens Library."  The sight made me sort of smile.  I wasn't sure this place needed a library since there was already one located in Court Square just fifteen minutes away.  "Kids need their exercise," I thought out loud.  Every dog walker that passed us grabbed my attention as I did my best to name every dog breed I recognized.  The trees looked artificial as they were planted exactly twelve feet apart.  The ground was more white than gray as it countered the large black shadows from the high rise condos.

We could now see the bright green turf, as we stood a block away from the field we only heard about through a friend of a friend.  The perfectly squared tiles made it feel as if we were stepping onto holy ground as the wind whistled a tune filled with welcoming chimes.  Thick letters reading, "SPORTS FIELD" sat on top of a ladder shaped silver steel structure above a half open gate that we viewed as an open invitation.  The smell of artificial turf mixed with the sun burned steel was strange but comforting as we were finally at home.  Unfortunately it appeared that we weren't alone.

Distant chuckling and shouting could be heard as a group of older gentlemen took turns kicking a soccer ball from one side of the field to another.  It all seemed pointless to me.  Countless amounts of thuds could be heard echoing across the turf as the ball was being kicked in near rhythmic fashion.  We dragged our equipment towards the left behind a tall sturdy gate and onto wooden bleachers.  I nearly lost my balance walking up the steps as their was only a small amount of space in between each layered step

The clouds seemed to be closing in us as the gentle breeze began pushing us away.  Every now and again we'd see some of the players jogging on the red running track at the edge of the park.  They wore similar bright jerseys and shorts.  These guys think they own the place, I thought. A wide scaled light blue building could be seen behind the field with small silver balconies.  It resembled the Citi Bank tower not too far away.  If you manage to look high enough without hurting your eyes, you can see a few ant sized residents watching from above.  Leaves from the trees outside the bleachers soon began to join us.  The clouds would eventually betray us as they darkened and began sending drops of rain towards the turf.  The moisture in the air began to dampen the view of the field.  The trees danced left and right signaling the end of a colorful day and the beginning of a soggy night. 

Fun In The Dump

I couldn't remember how old I was but I do remember that my cousins were young enough to still hang out with me and the rest of the younger bunch.  We looked across the street through the living room window and no longer saw an empty parking lot where we used to light matches and play catch.  Instead, we saw two giant blue doors with a chain poorly connecting the two together.  A construction site that would eventually house a seven story mediocre inn.  My dad would always talk to the man in charge of the construction site.  He seemed nice.  But boys will be boys and there was no way we'd let our curiosity go to waste.  One night I noticed my two older cousins come home with smiles from ear to ear.  They had one hell of a night, which during that time usually meant doing something illegal.  I always looked up to my cousins so naturally I began snooping around once I knew there was no way I'd get a straight answer from the two.

My sisters and I happened to catch the two culprits across the street one empty night.  They stood in front of the unfinished building and pushed the doors in opposite directions as the chain was too loose to keep them out.  I couldn't believe my eyes.  How could they not invite me?  It was then and there that I decided I'd invite myself along with my two sisters.  I guess my dog decided he'd like to check out what was going on inside the unpolished building too.  He was a loyal dog who was always up for an adventure.  The streets were usually empty around 8 pm as the abandoned block was filled with factories with my house at the dead center of nowhere.  Oh, how I miss it.

We gingerly made our way across the street looking both ways and whispering to each other about how crazy this was.  Crazier than that time we snuck that stray cat upstairs.  My dad was so mad.  I had never done anything illegal before up to that point in my life.  Although, there was that time I threw a foreign object towards the road that ended up making contact with a speeding car, which immediately halted and reversed right back towards my front porch.  I never ran so fast in my life.  Then again, there was that other time I threw a rock towards that parked van and shattered the back window. I never ran so fast in my life.

The day finally came when my sisters and I were small enough to get our hands dirty.  Usually our size would stand in the way of experiencing some good old fashioned fun.  We fit between the doors but soon found out that we needed a flashlight.  Upon returning into the inn shaped toilet, I relished the fact that I had never been inside of a building so big yet empty at the same time.  It was pitch black but offered so many visions of what was there to see.  My dog went his own route and after a few minutes I could've sworn I saw something to my left and decided it was time to round up the troops and leave.  We ran out of the building and back home with each one of us having a story to tell.  My dog decided he'd stay longer and eventually made his way back home later on.  I thought I saw a ghost.  The thought alone made me feel frightened but equally thrilled to return the next night.

Soon my older cousins decided that we'd all go in as a group and walk around even further into the structure.  We used the giant wrapped bags of fiber glass as trampolines.  After all they did resemble soft, cushioned pink clouds with an endless spring.  We all laughed despite later finding out about the dangers of coming into contact with fiber glass.  Boy, did we dodge a bullet.  I couldn't remember much more of the building but I do know my dog was a frequent visitor who would enter and exit as he pleased. 

Nowadays, my cousins and I exclusively see each other during holidays and these days my sisters and I aren't planning on breaking any more laws.  Today the comfort inn stands tall and lined with bricks, I even broke one of its windows playing catch a few years back.  I never ran so fast in my life.

I usually pass construction sites on a regular basis as developers are busy digging their teeth into every New York street corner.  It reminds me of how much fun the dump used to be. 

Blog Assignment #2 Response to Inherit the Earth by Demetria Martinez

The initial reaction towards the description of violence, death, hopelessness was just a reminder of the pain that at times, comes along with the American dream.  We've all joked about the U.S.-Mexico border but the truth is that the details are ugly and far from a laughing matter.  

The art installation illustrates the few items that hold so much value and so much reliance for the death-defying migrants.  Martinez's multiple references to the Arizona heat provide an example of nature filling the role of the antagonist.  Installations of the items being carried throughout the journey across the desert offers life altering artwork and even community journalism as it plays a role in raising awareness.  

Martinez uses descriptive language in painting a picture early and often in her essay.  She possesses a journalistic style in being engaging, straightforward while using factual information to support her claim.  She uses anecdotes of relatable characters such as Yolanda Gonzales who poured her last drops of water from her jug into her daughter's bottle (568).  

Martinez then goes on to mention brief but effective scenarios faced by immigrants that include scam artists, smugglers, and old socks lying around (569).  Her words hold nothing back as she refuses to sugarcoat anything.  Instead, she reminds the reader of the courage and unshakable characteristics these people possess.  It reminds me of a feature story one can find in a newspaper.  

As Martinez states, "To speak of an immigrant's plight only in terms of desperation fails to honor his or her full humanity," I am reminded that everybody has an interesting story to tell of their lives because they are human.  It's very easy to become desensitized to constantly hearing tragic tales in the news but these victims should not go unnoticed.  "I need you . . . . I hope that very soon we can be together forever," presents the ongoing battle between hope and sorrow as people attempt to reach the light at the end of the scorching tunnel. 

Rain Go Away

The evening rain offers a jolt down my spine.  Almost a burst of energy runs through my veins.  Nothing can stop me.  I immediately feel the cold rain water on my arm sleeves from earlier in the day.  "I should've wore my hat," I thought.  By my side was my ultimate loyal companion, all 55 pounds of her.  I never watched her walk this fast.  I could only imagine how cold her paws must feel in the crooked ground filling its gaps with cold October rain.  It was like the seasons switched overnight as the abundance of leaves could be found floating away into the empty streets.  The only sounds are that of the vicious winds in sync with the bitter rain.  This kind of weather sent folks scurrying indoors as the temperature continued to slowly drop.  Most people can't stand days like these, I dug every minute of it.

The realization of water entering my shoes only made me shrug, the fogging up of my glasses made me smile and the breeze lifting my jacket off of my shoulders made me feel alive.  My unprotected hair filled with fluid and the sweat on my forehead was replaced by a tickling flow courtesy of the storm.  I've grown accustomed to being drenched during mother nature's inconvenience.  What else can I do?  Run and hide under an umbrella like most people?  Nah.  I've got a better idea.  Embrace the grind.  If it won't kill you, go through with it.  It'll make you stronger.

I can't count how many times I've watched men, women, and children hiding underneath anything hovering above them blocking one of mother nature's greatest treats.  It makes me smile.  I am often met with a line of locals rushing their way through the drenched sidewalks holding up their umbrellas.  So many times my already sensitive eyes have been put in danger, not from the God awful rain, but from the good mannered citizens carrying their sword-like shields.  It makes me relish this night even more.  Not one soul outside.  Well, not yet at least.  Ruby stops to sniff around some exposed grass, fully benefiting from the seasonal showers.  When was it decided that rain was bad?  Was it when we worried so much about our clothes being dry?  Was it when we became so adamant on avoiding any kind of small sickness?  "I don't wanna die without any scars," famously stated Tyler Durden from the popular film, Fight Club.

Where did that mentality go?  I'm not saying to go find a friend and start beating each other senseless.  I'm saying why should we allow the weather to throw a wrench in our plans?  Mother nature giveth and mother nature taketh.  I recall being in the sixth grade, hoping and praying for a blizzard to touch down only to curse the frigid Earth when it actually came.  I did my best penguin impression as I tried to keep my balance.  I didn't want to be the laughing stock.

Sometimes the weather is not here to make a mark but, instead destined to leave a scar.  We have no say in the matter.  Which is why during nights like these when we have it a lot easier than say places like the beloved Bahamas, why not embrace it?  I intend to.  My walks with Ruby last roughly twenty minutes but after thinking of her fragile paws, I decide it's best to try and walk as fast as she allows me to.  The vibrant cars swish past me as I stepped into the bright streets reflecting the traffic lights.  Each rain drop only increases my enjoyment, the fog invites me inside to a place others avoid.  I can tell Ruby enjoys the experience by the way her hips move back and forth.  Who could blame her?  Once the cold water touches her fur, she becomes livelier and playful.  My favorite side of her, which is quickly followed by an extended nap on the endless sofa.

 I watch her and smile as I shake off my shoes and remove my coat.  Home sweet home always feels a little bit better after a battle with nature.  I've seen worse.  Walked through worse.  Hurricane Sandy sent me over to my aunt's house for a memorable Halloween.  We were all bunched into the living room.  Not for long though, we embraced the challenge by exiting the narrow door and heading towards the nearest grocery store.  Those chips never tasted better.  The rain offered a new memory as it wiped away the old ones.  I was alive.  I am alive.