Reflections

My birthday is coming up this weekend, and in Erie it still is snowing. I'm usually not really affected by the weather patterns of the Great Lakes region, as I find it to be often 'over-blown' by some of the 'locals', who themselves seem to believe that Erie rests only about five miles from the Arctic Circle, but I must admit that this so-called "spring" has just been down-right terrible to behold. How silly was I to think that in March the weather "would start to improve by April 23rd!?" Ha! Please! To the contrary, each morning I wake up to freezing temperatures, snow and god-awful, windy-blown rain drops that bang off of my bike helmet and make my canvas shoes wet from the inside out. I thought that by April I would be afforded the opportunity to go on a nice cross-city jaunt through the glass-strewn streets with my eyes averted from the city decay by all the blooming, budding bushes, flowers and trees that line the way. I thought that the sun would touch my neck and turn my pastel-white skin a tinge of red. Yet, it is not to be. We here in the northwest corner of Pennsylvania perpetually find ourselves under a thick layer of the heaviest and ugliest clouds one has seen, well, since February. When will spring arrive!? When will I not have to worry about the mucus smell of earthworms crawling across the pavement to flee from the water-logged, muddy 'soil' along the corners of all Erie sidewalks and roads? Soon. I hope.

Last Thursday, exactly one day before my decision deadline, at 8:00 pm at night, I received an email from Marquette University telling me that I had--after nearly three and a half months of waiting--been awarded the Trinity Fellowship. I accepted the Fellowship right away, and since that time have done very little reflection about it, except repeating over and over again in my mind: "I'm a FELLOW." "I'm a FELLOW." "I'm a FELLOW." You know, I would like to admit that I'm not so easily enticed by titles and prestige, but it really does feel GREAT to have been accepted. Now, I guess I just need to get serious about the work I'm about to get myself into: the long nights of studying, the writing, the working, the being stressed, the loneliness.

Last night I found myself at a public discussion about Marcellus Shale Drilling, and was shocked by the general public discourse; we as a nation REALLY do see problems through 'Black and White' paradigms. There were numerous instances last night where I was utterly disgusted and frustrated with the lack of respect that fellow citizens had for each other's opinion--even if the expressed idea was not exactly popular (i.e.- supporting Marcellus drilling). And, I was even more appalled at the manner in which the audience would address the speakers: More often than not, each question started with some kind of one-up-man comment like, "Well, sir, I don't think you quite understand...", or "So, you're REALLY saying that...." The audience really did treat the professors like they were some politicans who were public enemy number one. Yet, my greatest critique goes to the toothless, grunge, know-it-all type in the back of the room who made comment after comment about absolutley EVERY SINGLE POINT that was brought up in opposition to Marcellus Drilling. He spoke in the most obnoxious squack of a tone that is usually only reserved for mentally disturbed uncles who drink lots of beer and speak at length about Agent Orange. I proceeded to chalk the guy up as a wise-crack (and, yes, an "asshole")and attempted to ignore his arrogant morter shells of shallow-thinking that kept falling throughout the auditorium. It didn't work as well as I would have hoped.

I hate getting lectured from some cigarette-smelling fool with thick-rimmed glasses cacked in about two decades worth of black grime and a beer gut to boot.