Fandom Culture: MIA

A month has passed since my last post. While I always believe no excuse is a good excuse, a few things have come upon me that have forced my absence. I'll fill you in on them, plus a newfound transition I have found myself undergoing.

I turned 22 this past month. Learned that year means little, beyond my future investments in wrinkle creams being sooner than they once were.

I graduated from USC. Lucky for you I saved you a cheesy post on why my college experience was monumental, amazing, learned a lot about myself, etc. It did and was all those things, though.

And in the last four weeks, I've been working. Real-life, I-have-to-pay-for-my-groceries working. It's incredibly liberating and yet, simultaneously stressful. It helps that I'm doing exactly what I want to do.



I'm writing on college football, particularly USC, my alma mater. It seems like an easy transition, covering the team I have for years, reeking of familiarity. Throughout this student-to-professional transition, I am undoubtedly sensing another change within me. I believe it was Woody Paige, but I could be mistaken, who once said "The best writers lose their fandom. Be prepared for it."

I was talking to a friend from an athletic department yesterday about the NCAA sanctions, tOSU, and all the madness within college football that blurs the lines between corruption and competition. He asked me how I felt.

Pause.

I usually can emote or vocalize as much as Carrot Top on a Vegas stage, but this time, I was mum. There were no words.



Why? I could have said that I was miserable that USC was scorned by one player. I could have said that tOSU should be punished, should be the modern SMU. I can say all those things, but I literally can't.

Because I don't feel them.

I don't have feelings about USC or college football anymore. I obviously loved my college experience at USC, Annenberg (the journalism school) and think the football program at USC is great. I still like USC alum better than any other school. It has nothing to do with my relationship to the university, it has to do with my job. I still throw up the Fight On sign to every person donning a Cardinal and Gold shirt, or make fun of them if they wear Yellow and Blue.

I just am not a fan of the football anymore. It happened somewhere in the last four years, and solidified itself in the last month. I only tailgated one game my entire time in college. And to be truthful, I missed the press box.



So it happened. I lost my fandom. I don't know if it means I'm becoming a better writer, I think that's debatable. My transition, however, is not. Maybe when I'm an old hag covering curling or fishing, I'll cheer for USC. Hopefully I'm never an old hag covering curling or fishing, though.



Until next time.

Split-Brained Culture

Have you ever taken a long time to decide something unimportant? Or have you ever acted on intuition alone, without any reason?

I finished a book last week, and I can't get it out of my head. I've read books that have dealt with this concept before (Plato's The Republic, Buddha's Doctrine of the Mean) but this is more practical than philosophical, more tangible than esoteric.

I also finished my last (hopefully ever) college paper yesterday. In it, I talked about the metaphor that I read in the aforementioned book which I can't stop thinking about, Jonathan Haidt's "The Happiness Hypothesis." The metaphor, without sounding like my regurgitated-subpar paper, was based on the idea that our brains are composed of two major parts, the involuntary and the voluntary. To Haidt, the involuntary is any instinctual emotion, reaction, unconscious thought that usually causes some sort of visceral action or reaction. He calls this part of our brain the Elephant. But any well-trained Elephant (because I hang with elephants so much) needs a good Rider. And this is the rational part of our brain: The Rider. The Rider helps steer the Elephant back on course, the Rider is our self-control.

Example--> you see a cake on the table, your Elephant wants it, and your eyes linger on it. Your Rider says "no I'm on a diet."

I think we want to believe that at the end of the day we're more rational than instinctual, more planned than spontaneous because if we weren't we might be prone to foolish decisions or a lack of self-control.

So as I look back on my last four years in college, I realized I spent the first year (at UCSD) led by my Rider and the last three (at USC) being steered by my Elephant.

I knew majoring in neuroscience at UCSD was going to be dry, lonely and challenging. While it's great to be in control of your situations and surroundings, I wasn't so sure life was supposed to work like one big formula. There are too many unanswered questions and confusing people in the world for me to believe this formulaic concept of life was accurate.

So when I became a journalism major I decided to be as open as possible. When you're trying to get other people to be open with you, it's only natural for you to do the same in return. How did I become open? I kind of let life guide me and then subsequently responded.

I had been curious about so much--beyond synapses and the brain, beyond my 10 x 10 dormitory at UCSD, that any new experience filled me with awe in Los Angeles. My Elephant was on crack. I couldn't get enough life.

I still can't.

A couple (personal, beware) examples:

Covering sports got addictive. I wanted to know everything about every sport. So I watched games every night, either at Staples Center, my computer (I don't have a t.v. *gasp*) or Sonny McClean's (the Boston Bar in Santa Monica). We're talking obsessive-you-don't-have-a-social-life-because-you-watch-top-10-on-repeat levels. For example, the last two Celtics season (09-10 and 10-11, totaling 190 games in both the regular and postseason) I saw maybe 160 of them.

Two months ago, I met a guy that fit my "type" and I went googoo. It was as if my 21-year old self had become 14 overnight. My Elephant kicked my Rider overboard; there was no rationality in it, only pure attraction. But after snapping myself out of it (or rather, his one-dimensional personality snapping me out of it), I realized that being led only by your Elephant isn't safe.

Those are extreme examples, we've all "fallen in lust" before and got addicted to various things, some things worse than others. Kind of fortunate mine has been basketball. But alas I digress.

It took me three years to conceptualize this split-brained mentality instinctual in humans. Thanks to Haidt, I've realized why we should strive for moderation, for a synthesis of the Rider and Elephant is important. The best word that comes to mind is progress. To mature, to grow, to be better, we need our Riders to get closer to our Elephant. While they're never going to have the same power--the mad scientist in the lab will always be controlled by his Rider, the hopeless romantic always by his Elephant. But those are outliers. We are the norm, and when we find balance it's the most energizing feeling in the world.

To know you are stepping forward, not running, and not letting a cut block (a.k.a tripping--got to throw football in there) mess up our progressive journeys, is what life is about.

Sorry about the philosophical/psychological rant, but it's my blog :)

Hope you enjoyed the visit.

PLAYOFF CULTURE

For most people, it's Christmas. Or for the, ahem, self-interested, it's their birthday. To the more eccentric, maybe it's Halloween.

Each of us love different times of the year. This time, right now, late April and early May, is my favorite. Sure it's my birthday month. But that's not the reason I love this time of the year (at least consciously).

Tuukka Rask has something to do with it. Derrick Rose does too. Kevin Garnett is probably the biggest reason. But Sidney Crosby helps.

It's the beginning of professional hockey and basketball playoffs. When there are so many games on you don't have time nor the decision-making skills to choose what to turn on. It's the time when you have legitimate upsets, incredible feats (DRose 39 and 36 points his first two games? SERIOUSLY?), and so much sports drama that doesn't typically involve soap-opera-like sex scandals or pay-for-play situations. The athletes are already paid. And right now, people care more about the W than who an athlete is sleeping with. It's all about the competition.


This time of the year is actually the reason I got into sports in the first place.

I'm always a bit happier around May, despite the annual reminder that I'm older. At first I thought it was because of Spring, or Summer rolling around-- the months are hotter, no school--something froofroo like that. Then it hit me.



Playoffs are a reminder why people love sports. Guys putting their hearts on the line-or failing too (ahem Lakers minus Kobe on Sunday) and teams rallying together to show that the regular season wasn't an indication of their ability (J.Jack and CP3 splitting the point...was it raining in Staples or what?).

The first weekend of the NBA was like a great piece of complex art: You couldn't understand what was happening, but wanted to keep watching in the hope that you would eventually figure it out. San Antonio (minus the Argentinean) lost its first game of the Spurs-Grizzlies matchup and the Lakers NOH-showed against the Hornets. Indiana and Philly competed to the end with Chicago and Miami, respectively. The Portland/Dallas game was so tight. And my favorite: the incredible matchup of Oklahoma City and Denver, a hard fought battle won by the Thunder.

On to the ice...The Chicago Blackhawks are nowhere near last year's championship team, en route to being eliminated by Vancouver (expected to be the new owners of the Cup). But the Red Wings are dominating play over the Coyotes. I guess someone has to win something in Detroit. And the rest of the matchups are fairly close, like the Bruins' grabbing one against Montreal despite a season full of struggles. The Western matchup of the Sharks and Kings, who each own a game, has been an exciting one to follow.



I didn't have to say much to illustrate the drama. So go flip on your television, or if you don't have cable (like me), go to a sports bar and watch multiple games at once. Nobody would ever know All My Children and One Life to Live were getting cancelled.

Work Hard, Play Hard Culture

Cliches are a journalist's kryptonite. Good thing I don't have any lives to save, because I'm about to whip out a few.

To most Type A personalities the cliche "work hard play hard" is foreign, illogical. Play somehow always becomes work-derived. At least, that's how it is for me, my dad, and all the other Type As I know. But it's a play we enjoy, because we love to work.

Thanks to my almost-college-graduate status, my recently acquired Senioritis has caused me to reevaluate this cliche that I've heard too many times in the last four years. I've learned, through first-hand experience, that play doesn't have to be work-derived. And that "play" really is vital to a more fulfilled life. I've never been happier at any moment in my life than I am right now, and I think it's because I learned this distinction. My goal in this post is that other people, who haven't yet, learn it too.

Before I go any further, I think I need to define "play" for fear of seeing unemployment papers in the very near future...

I've had a job since I was 12. I didn't drink until I turned 21. Until now, my version of "play" had consisted of sipping on a beer at a bar while watching some game. The game part meant I was "working" (expanding my knowledge of player tendencies, refs, etc).

This "play" I'm now referring to isn't the raging, get-so-drunk you can't remember your night "play." Although that works for a lot of people. The "play" I'm talking about is much more basic.

As I write this, I'm sitting in a coffeeshop in Northern California. People are talking over sandwiches and coffee, there are a few with computers. Conversation among every table is interactive, lively. The energy is definitely palpable. But beyond the incredibly nice staff and friendly strangers here (who don't say "hella" nearly as much as people from Southern California imagine), my favorite part is that nobody is talking while texting. I actually don't see any cell phones on the tables (but mine -guilty-it's playoff season). Nobody has even looked up at the huge clock near the register.

The "play" I'm (longwindedly) talking about is the time we spend when time itself is a non-factor. The time when the hours aren't counted and the scenery isn't a momentary blip on one's daily to-do-list.

I didn't drive up the coast for work. I'm here to "play," to see my friends, to not check items off a list or make an itinerary. I actually have no idea what I'm going to do in a couple hours. And I love it.

So that's what "play" means to me. I'm apart of the generation y, the collective group of 18-30 year-olds who bear a lifestyle intensely integrated with technology/social media. We are the reason marketers love the Internet, because we check Twitter and Facebook instead of making a phone call and update our status or location more times than (arguably) necessary. Because I grew up in that generation, and because I love working, not knowing what I'd be doing on a given day seems pretty boring. But lately, I've realized there's something special in not knowing, in not planning. As our perceptions of one another multiply like the number of items on our resume, sometimes the blank spaces in between our "job skills" and "awards won" really say who we are. Sometimes the days that don't "count," count the most.

If we give ourselves the opportunity to "play" without calculating the logistics, maybe work won't seem like this polarizing idea relished only by the Type As of the world. Maybe we can actually work hard and play hard, and enjoy doing both.

In honor of those "playing" at Coachella this weekend, I put up a new song I love to dance to.

A Third Party Culture?

Who needs labels!? My mom loves to tell people that her epitaph (weird, I know) will read "she will not be categorized." She clearly will never get into politics.

Barack Obama has been and will continue to be labeled as he makes history. Bush certainly was labeled. Every President has been labeled, by his party or for his contributions --or lack thereof (cough Millard FIllmore cough." Who?" Exactly... cough again).

This post isn't concerned about the latter label, the contributions. This post is about the party, man! No, not the raging kind, but rather the elephant and donkey kind, the blue state/red state kind. Political parties are a President's business card. So it seems a silly question to ask, but, if they are so important, why aren't there more of them?

All my fantastically random and loyal readers will probably attempt to open your mouths with some sort of response (but, alas, I can't hear you) so I'll try to list the most common: two-party systems can appeal to more people, can broaden the electorate, may resolve conflict more easily and they can create greater unity among masses.

So those who don't dig the label, like my mom, might have certain opinions consistent with the right yet others consistent with the left. What happens to those people? Are they hung out to dry? America's Independent party has worked about as well as Tamagotchis or Chia Pets: at first, they sound great, but once you figure out there isn't much to them, your motivation (to vote/play) decreases. Also sounds like most first dates.

The questions remain: will a third party ever become a culture in the U.S. that doesn't fade? Will we be privy to greater choice, 'not being categorized' by a slew of policy that may not fit our individual beliefs?

Some could argue the Tea Party is an example of a third party. Senator Rand Paul said in February (mind you while promoting his book "The Tea Party Goes to Washington") he doesn't think The TP will go third-party.

Maybe it won't. Maybe it will. Maybe others will emerge in time. My biggest beef is that debate is an essential part of the democratic process, and when we are limiting our policies and opinions to those engraved in the country's two parties, people are not as often pluralistic. And not as often open-minded.

Whether we attach a label or not, let us not limit our capacity for reform or discussion. No instrument is ever too old for a little silver polish.

Well, except for those made of wood.

Till another day.

South American Culture through Photos

Alas, a photo blog created entirely by yours truly (no Fair Use asterisk needed). Sights of some South American culture. Enjoy! (Disfruta!)

Peruvian Culture: One of the World's Best

Hola! Greetings! Bienvenido! Me llamo Whitney y este es mi blog. Okay I won't write entirely in Spanish (as if I was proficient enough to do so anyway), but communicating in the world's second-most popular language for the past week was (pun intended) foreign, while, at the same time, great.

Just got back from South America where I was lucky enough to spend time in Peru (4 days) Argentina (3 days) and Uruguay (a day).

I've mentioned previously how language makes residents of the country you are visiting more comfortable when you can talk to them in their native tongue. I'm no pro, but even my attempt seemed to be well received at the South American countries I visited. Maybe they were humoring me.

This post isn't about the language, though. Because the country of Peru opened my eyes and widened my perspective, I want to relay the Peruvian culture I witnessed. There isn't one culture that blankets the entire continent of South America. My time in each country was wholly different-- even the currencies varied (calculating those exchange rates was not fun for this writer!) But this difference in cultures is exactly why travelers must go, if given the opportunity. It is an amazing cultural destination because you truly can see it all. Now, I will narrow my focus solely to Peru, a mix (mezclado) of so many cultures in one!

In my opinion, Peru is the most underrated country in the world. I think I said that before about Estonia, but that was only because I hadn't seen Peru. For now, it's Peru. Yup, it's that incredible. Peru is the country where you see backdrop after backdrop and might channel Descartes in questioning your existence: yes you are really there, and yes the scenery is really that incredible. That may sound like a lot of fluff, but Peru has 84 of the world's 103 ecosystems and 28 of the 32 climates. Books say it's the most ecologically diverse place in the world. Although I did double-check that, you'd believe it either way if only you spent time there. It will rain on you in one place (a light, breezy, almost sexy rain if ever a rain were possible), be totally dry in another and humid in another. While putting your jacket on and off may sound tedious, there isn't much else that could bug you about this country (too cheesy? Probably, but you came here voluntarily...)

Shockingly, my favorite part wasn't the scenery. It was the people. If someone wanted to collect the nicest and most generous people in one place, I think Peru would be the starting point. Sure people in hospitality have their jobs for the sole purpose of being nice to customers. But the front desk agents and tour guides weren't the only ones. Even in the streets people were friendly: The solicitors backed off after a simple "no gracias," locals wanted to show you where things were, a smile seemed to permanently stretch across the peoples' faces and they treated you like family. I only visited four cities in the country, so from my random sample, I'm saying that's the social culture of the Peruvian people, although I could very well be wrong.

Also, I went to some impoverished parts of the cities and didn't see violence. The worst thing I witnessed was three little boys throwing a rock at toy car. Oh wait, and two boys trying to push a dog over a cliff. Seriously. It was awful but they didn't seem malicious, more like playing (naive? absolutely). Regardless, boys would probably do that in any country. I didn't go out much at night (because the city tours took up most of the day) but when I did, I felt safe.

Another incredible thing about the country is its history. I ended up reading Che Guevara's "Motorcycle Diaries" on the trip and in it, he mentions some history about the Incas. But even his detailed words didn't paint the picture of the Inca culture. Nor do pictures (although I'll put some up). Most of the Peruvians knew only Quechua (the Andean people's original language) but basic human traits-a nod, a smile, an open arm-crossed language barriers. It was a euphoric feeling witnessing first hand what men were capable of, despite the little resources at their disposal, at a time when the word 'culture' was never influenced by an iPhone or computer.

Oh duh. The Food. Can't forget that. Great flavors. One drink, the Inca Cola, I don't recommend. Kind of not fair, as I didn't try it myself, but my family said it tasted like carbonated bubble gum and that was enough for me to pass. I did have numerous chicken dishes, way too much bread for a single person's consumption and tons of fruit. Their fruit is the freshest and tastiest I've ever tried. Who knew papaya packed that kind of punch? Or what a pepino was? (It has the texture of a plum and tastes like a cross between a pear and an apple). My favorite part is how a Peruvian breakfast (el desayuno) is akin to an American's dinner. Our tour guide said you don't need a lot of carbs to sleep, but you do in order to have a fulfilling day. Great line. They have so many kinds of corn (you can see the photos) and potatoes I had no idea that many existed. Peruvian breakfasts had pancakes and bacon too (or at least our hotels did) but the best part for me was the tamales and Andean cereal. The grains tasted so pure, as opposed to the preservatives that fill our bowls in the U.S. Kind of grossed out to hear tamales were made with lard, but luckily I found out after swallowing them down.

This post wasn't an attempt to get a job at Tripadvisor. It was simply my authentic perception of Peru. I hope to be back, because I only saw a fraction of the culture. But even that fraction was enough to recommend it to anyone. Hopefully I'll know a bit more Spanish by then. And hopefully you'll have planned a trip there by then, too.

Check out the next post for pictures!