Alex Kudera's Blog, page 145
April 8, 2012
April 8 (the limits of welfare to work)
The New York Times has an article exploring the limits of welfare to work during periods of economic contraction, enemic growth, millions of lost jobs, etc. In it, we read that many states have done what the law stated they had to do--drop folks from welfare when their time limits expired. I remember reading an article from about ten years ago, on how other states were quietly shifting welfare recipients to other kinds of aid to maintain some type semblance of humanity. I once described this to students in a freshman English class, and some had looks of disbelief--aghast that the states would defy their will, offend the "taxpayer," and break the spirit of the law. I suspect others of course didn't see it that way, but for whatever reason, they weren't the ones to speak out in that class.
Although it was partly rationalization because on Tuesdays I was working twelve-hour shifts that could stretch to fifteen if I found an "up" while walking the lot in the p.m., the 1996 general election was the only Presidential one that I've been eligible for but didn't vote in. On the one hand, it seemed almost certain that Clinton would win, and on the other, I was angry at the welfare-to-work law. At the time, to me, it seemed like the worst kind of inhumanity because it clearly was the kind of country where college grads could easily be forced into sales and leasing of automobiles if they hoped to move off their parents dime and pay their student loans on time.
And then the economy began to improve dramatically, and like so many others, I increasingly got lost in my own concerns and surviving. It often seems like America necessitates a careerism that can leave some of our most successful citizens with no idea of what's going on in this world. In that way, it's a scary place.
Happy holidays.
Although it was partly rationalization because on Tuesdays I was working twelve-hour shifts that could stretch to fifteen if I found an "up" while walking the lot in the p.m., the 1996 general election was the only Presidential one that I've been eligible for but didn't vote in. On the one hand, it seemed almost certain that Clinton would win, and on the other, I was angry at the welfare-to-work law. At the time, to me, it seemed like the worst kind of inhumanity because it clearly was the kind of country where college grads could easily be forced into sales and leasing of automobiles if they hoped to move off their parents dime and pay their student loans on time.
And then the economy began to improve dramatically, and like so many others, I increasingly got lost in my own concerns and surviving. It often seems like America necessitates a careerism that can leave some of our most successful citizens with no idea of what's going on in this world. In that way, it's a scary place.
Happy holidays.
April 7, 2012
April 7 (time to submit?)
Both Atticus Review and This Literary Magazine sent word out that they are accepting submissions for upcoming issues. Atticus, in particular, is jonesin' for your non, but This appears open to all kinds.
Maybe I'll do a longer, anxious, despairing entry in the late p.m., but for now, I hope you enjoy a beautiful weekend.
I hear the birdies, the real ones, tweeting outside, and I'm still fortunate enough to be bereft of any online handheld devices.
Maybe I'll do a longer, anxious, despairing entry in the late p.m., but for now, I hope you enjoy a beautiful weekend.
I hear the birdies, the real ones, tweeting outside, and I'm still fortunate enough to be bereft of any online handheld devices.
April 6, 2012
April 6 (fan mail)
I haven't received any hating stuff snail mailed and there's been no rock with a message thrown through the window, and alas, not one pilgrim has shown up at the door of the Duffler looking for an autograph or soup, but I did receive this intriguing note by e-mail earlier in the week.
Dear Alex -
I've been meaning to write you for well over a year, having read F.F.Y.L.D. at that
time. I had a mixture of praise and a word of constructive criticism or two. Life
being what it is - I now find that all that time has passed, and I can't remember
what the hell I had to say, save for a pleasant memory of the book, of course.
But your work has been sitting on my desk for the better part of 9 months, and in an
effort at reorganizing my office - to say nothing of sending along some non sequitor
of praise for your work -I thought the story of how I picked up your novel in the
first place would do.
At the time, I was a whirling dervish of agony, recovering from a horrible breakup
with an English professor at one of the very universities you write about, and was
doing my level best to recover from the same: match.com dates with puerto rican tap
dancers, a bent elbow, therapy - the whole kerfluffle. Progress was perambulating
at the pace of molasses in December, and I thought one depressive morning in the
215, "What else cures a broken heart? LITERATURE!"
Later that afternoon after court, I scampered into Joseph Fox on Sansom Street, and
there behind the counter sat perhaps the most beautiful manifestation of saleswoman
imaginable - a Joseph Fox employee, mousey in diminutive stature, but nonetheless a
colossal beauty in black, with pearls and cat-eye glasses that promised sweet
salvation from the pain I was enduring.
She asked how she could help. I said, "There's no other way to say this. I broke
up with an English professor, and I'm devastated. Therapy, talking with friends,
booze - nothing's working, and this morning I thought literature might do..." She
jumped. "My god. Have you read Madame Bovary?" And she just about leapt the
counter in a single bound, aurally holding my hand with compassionate suggestions.
"Oh my. That won't be enough. Surely you know Haruki Murakami?" On and on she
went, walking me back and forth in the store. Kundera. Some really obscure Russian
literature. More Murakami.
And then I said to her, "Do you have anything about recovering from neurotic
academics?"
And that, good sir, is how I came to have the signed copy of F.F.Y.L.D. that I now
have in my hand.
Sincerely Yours,
A Philadelphia Barrister
I'd say that this attorney has a gift for language and anecdote, but alas, he didn't send money.
Have a good friday.
Dear Alex -
I've been meaning to write you for well over a year, having read F.F.Y.L.D. at that
time. I had a mixture of praise and a word of constructive criticism or two. Life
being what it is - I now find that all that time has passed, and I can't remember
what the hell I had to say, save for a pleasant memory of the book, of course.
But your work has been sitting on my desk for the better part of 9 months, and in an
effort at reorganizing my office - to say nothing of sending along some non sequitor
of praise for your work -I thought the story of how I picked up your novel in the
first place would do.
At the time, I was a whirling dervish of agony, recovering from a horrible breakup
with an English professor at one of the very universities you write about, and was
doing my level best to recover from the same: match.com dates with puerto rican tap
dancers, a bent elbow, therapy - the whole kerfluffle. Progress was perambulating
at the pace of molasses in December, and I thought one depressive morning in the
215, "What else cures a broken heart? LITERATURE!"
Later that afternoon after court, I scampered into Joseph Fox on Sansom Street, and
there behind the counter sat perhaps the most beautiful manifestation of saleswoman
imaginable - a Joseph Fox employee, mousey in diminutive stature, but nonetheless a
colossal beauty in black, with pearls and cat-eye glasses that promised sweet
salvation from the pain I was enduring.
She asked how she could help. I said, "There's no other way to say this. I broke
up with an English professor, and I'm devastated. Therapy, talking with friends,
booze - nothing's working, and this morning I thought literature might do..." She
jumped. "My god. Have you read Madame Bovary?" And she just about leapt the
counter in a single bound, aurally holding my hand with compassionate suggestions.
"Oh my. That won't be enough. Surely you know Haruki Murakami?" On and on she
went, walking me back and forth in the store. Kundera. Some really obscure Russian
literature. More Murakami.
And then I said to her, "Do you have anything about recovering from neurotic
academics?"
And that, good sir, is how I came to have the signed copy of F.F.Y.L.D. that I now
have in my hand.
Sincerely Yours,
A Philadelphia Barrister
I'd say that this attorney has a gift for language and anecdote, but alas, he didn't send money.
Have a good friday.
April 5, 2012
April 5 (Anis Shivani asks, and Richard Burgin answers)
I drop this now in case I forget to blog later today, or in the part of the day when it is normal to be awake.
Anyway, this great interview with Richard Burgin has it all--Philip Rahv, Isaac Singer, Borges, Brandeis, Drexel, Boulevard, agent angst, and more.
Here's an excerpt from The Huffington Post:
Shivani: I think good writing is not fundamentally about self-expression. Do you agree or disagree? If it's not, then what is it about?
Burgin: I agree that good writing is not fundamentally about self-expression but rather the creation and exploration of the writer's own emotional territory. If the writer concentrates on populating his world mainly with images of him or herself, his writing will be narcissistic and fail. The self is expressed in good writing but subtly or secondarily as a byproduct, as it were, of their created world.
Shivani: What is the single most self-destructive thing a writer can do to harm his or her growth?
Burgin: Don't get addicted to any drugs and don't listen too much to anyone from a "school" of writing who tells you there is only one way to write well. As Isaac Singer said "small fish swim in schools."
Anyway, this great interview with Richard Burgin has it all--Philip Rahv, Isaac Singer, Borges, Brandeis, Drexel, Boulevard, agent angst, and more.
Here's an excerpt from The Huffington Post:
Shivani: I think good writing is not fundamentally about self-expression. Do you agree or disagree? If it's not, then what is it about?
Burgin: I agree that good writing is not fundamentally about self-expression but rather the creation and exploration of the writer's own emotional territory. If the writer concentrates on populating his world mainly with images of him or herself, his writing will be narcissistic and fail. The self is expressed in good writing but subtly or secondarily as a byproduct, as it were, of their created world.
Shivani: What is the single most self-destructive thing a writer can do to harm his or her growth?
Burgin: Don't get addicted to any drugs and don't listen too much to anyone from a "school" of writing who tells you there is only one way to write well. As Isaac Singer said "small fish swim in schools."
April 4, 2012
April 4 (Dogplotz Dice Roll)
Over at facebook, I just survived getting tagged by the Emporer of Dogplotz, aka nine-time Atlantic City dice champion Barry Graham, so I thought I'd follow up by mentioning the book he mistakenly had me down as citing. It's Nothing or Next to Nothing, and I just picked up an eight-dollar copy from Main Street Rag, and if you follow this link, you can, too. Based upon what I read in The National Virginity Pledge, if you can get into Dan Fante, Bukowski, SaFranko et al, you may like Barry's writing.
One of my favorites from Virginity was Graham's gambling story. It was one of the longest in the collection of sometimes flash-length fiction, and the tale also reminded me a bit of other recent reads: The Rag's "D-Gen" and Steve Almond's lead story in the 2010 Best of American Short Stories, "Donkey Greedy, Donkey Gets Punched." Within twenty years, it could be legal to strip search and pepper spray anyone seen gambling at less than a grand a throw, so there will continue to be a lot of gambling tales to pen on cocktail napkins. The ones I just mentioned could be the trailblazing stories in twenty-first century casino fiction.
One of my favorites from Virginity was Graham's gambling story. It was one of the longest in the collection of sometimes flash-length fiction, and the tale also reminded me a bit of other recent reads: The Rag's "D-Gen" and Steve Almond's lead story in the 2010 Best of American Short Stories, "Donkey Greedy, Donkey Gets Punched." Within twenty years, it could be legal to strip search and pepper spray anyone seen gambling at less than a grand a throw, so there will continue to be a lot of gambling tales to pen on cocktail napkins. The ones I just mentioned could be the trailblazing stories in twenty-first century casino fiction.
April 2, 2012
April 3 (Diminishing Returns)
The Philadelphia Inquirer posted a long one on college's high costs and "diminishing returns." Here's an excerpt on what some recent grads are doing:
Benjamin Landau-Beispiel, 23, and Eric Augenbraun, 24, both graduated from Masterman High School in 2006, where they became friends and fostered a love of history.
Landau-Beispiel, from East Falls, went on to Harvard University, where he graduated with a 3.5 grade-point average; Augenbraun, from Roxborough, went to Penn and graduated with a 3.7.
Between them, their educations cost nearly $400,000. But now, Landau-Beispiel is a janitor in a synagogue in Roxborough, while Augenbraun is a chess tutor for elementary-school kids and does research for a national political journalist.
The compelling article, which, of course in fine blogger fashion I did not read in its entirety, goes on to note, "On a quiet Sunday, Landau-Beispiel scrubs toilets, then turns on a giant Titan vacuum cleaner in the Mishkan Shalom community room. Thin and bearded, the young man affixes headphones to his ears and listens to a lecture on Karl Marx by historian Moishe Postone."
I feel like I was in a similar place after college. I wasn't scrubbing toilets, but I was bussing dishes and working other mediocre jobs. Landau-Beispiel is from an affluent background, so I'm not sure he'll get as desperate as I did and wind up selling Toyotas for almost a couple years although, frankly, I don't blame him if he does.
For now, though, his Good Will Hunting routine will have to suffice and listening to lectures on Marx while working doesn't seem like the most alienating labor to me.
And we can't measure a life until it's over, and even then multiple perspectives offer various conclusions at what the heck was lived, what it meant, why, etc.
Good luck, Benjamin Landau-Beispiel and Eric Augenbraun. Your future awaits, and I bet there will be many more twists and turns in your journey.
PS--It occurs to me that I'm interested in these two chess-playing Masterman grads because I was on the first Masterman chess team. If we were to play today, I'm certain both would destroy me.
PPS--I'm almost positive these two could get some lucrative math tutoring or something similar.
Benjamin Landau-Beispiel, 23, and Eric Augenbraun, 24, both graduated from Masterman High School in 2006, where they became friends and fostered a love of history.
Landau-Beispiel, from East Falls, went on to Harvard University, where he graduated with a 3.5 grade-point average; Augenbraun, from Roxborough, went to Penn and graduated with a 3.7.
Between them, their educations cost nearly $400,000. But now, Landau-Beispiel is a janitor in a synagogue in Roxborough, while Augenbraun is a chess tutor for elementary-school kids and does research for a national political journalist.
The compelling article, which, of course in fine blogger fashion I did not read in its entirety, goes on to note, "On a quiet Sunday, Landau-Beispiel scrubs toilets, then turns on a giant Titan vacuum cleaner in the Mishkan Shalom community room. Thin and bearded, the young man affixes headphones to his ears and listens to a lecture on Karl Marx by historian Moishe Postone."
I feel like I was in a similar place after college. I wasn't scrubbing toilets, but I was bussing dishes and working other mediocre jobs. Landau-Beispiel is from an affluent background, so I'm not sure he'll get as desperate as I did and wind up selling Toyotas for almost a couple years although, frankly, I don't blame him if he does.
For now, though, his Good Will Hunting routine will have to suffice and listening to lectures on Marx while working doesn't seem like the most alienating labor to me.
And we can't measure a life until it's over, and even then multiple perspectives offer various conclusions at what the heck was lived, what it meant, why, etc.
Good luck, Benjamin Landau-Beispiel and Eric Augenbraun. Your future awaits, and I bet there will be many more twists and turns in your journey.
PS--It occurs to me that I'm interested in these two chess-playing Masterman grads because I was on the first Masterman chess team. If we were to play today, I'm certain both would destroy me.
PPS--I'm almost positive these two could get some lucrative math tutoring or something similar.
April 2
So April 2 is a National Day for Higher Education. I did see that thirty-six students were arrested in DC for protesting student-loan debt, but I could not find any news about the protests on the front page of The Washington Post, which, seemingly by coincidence, did have this article on how student-loan debt even adversely affects seniors. The arrested students had been chanting, "Sallie Mae, you can't hide. We can see your greedy side."
In more local news, the students look tired. Worn down. Four weeks away, but they are ready for a tidy conclusion to this spring's educational experience. A student in my 9:05 a.m. class burst out in dismay, and I could hear she was distraught, when the topic of capitalism itself rose from the waters of a novel with environmental themes. "Do you mean that capitalism might not be the best system!?" A few others smiled quietly, as if we were sharing tacit knowledge. . . sneakily questioning the natonal mythology. Or just trying to discuss and contextualize the book.
Ah, humanity; ah, class participation.
In more local news, the students look tired. Worn down. Four weeks away, but they are ready for a tidy conclusion to this spring's educational experience. A student in my 9:05 a.m. class burst out in dismay, and I could hear she was distraught, when the topic of capitalism itself rose from the waters of a novel with environmental themes. "Do you mean that capitalism might not be the best system!?" A few others smiled quietly, as if we were sharing tacit knowledge. . . sneakily questioning the natonal mythology. Or just trying to discuss and contextualize the book.
Ah, humanity; ah, class participation.
April 1
This isn't a joke, and I know this is a lame post, but I intend to blog everyday in April. Sorry this one is late. I promise it won't happen again.
March 31, 2012
the old man and his hemingway
I believe that the photograph of my father is from the late 1970s, and below it rests his college copy of
The Sun Also Rises
.
The Scribner Library trade paperbacks were built to last, and please do "think I am very much impressed by that."
The Scribner Library trade paperbacks were built to last, and please do "think I am very much impressed by that."
New Hope, Pa
March 22 was a wonderful Thursday for sitting outside Farley's Bookshop in sunny New Hope, Pennsylvania.
True or False? I'm not seated because I was behind the postal vehicle, begging the letter carrier to buy a copy.
No tellsies, but later that afternoon, I found a tasty Philly cheesesteak and Turkish Delight ice cream down the street.
And three days later I was back in the teaching game.
