Paris Hilton and The Hunger Games

The only reason I will admit to having watched the show is because I was distracting myself. Sometime I feel like I have A.D.D. as I flip through the TV channels at the gym; trying to forget that my muscles are burning, and that I still have 20 minutes to go on the elliptical machine. This particular show was a reality series built around Paris Hilton finding a new best friend (or B.F.F., as the show kept reminding the viewers). At the time, it was hard to decide what bugged me the most about the show. The shallowness of it was definitely screaming for me to change the channel, but the puzzlement over why all those girls would put themselves through the contest kept me glued. The show was down to four contestants, when the camera crew filmed Hilton telling each of them that they were eliminated from the show. Hilton then proceeded to watch each girl during their exit interview after she had left the room, taking note of how sad they were about getting kicked off her show. Hilton then decided based off of the interviews who was really the girl to be weeded out. It seemed like such a classic case of manipulation, ingenious really, but “Ouch!”, so cold and harsh at the same time! It’s like Jr. High all over again, but with America watching.
This show established a new hobby horse for me. It made me start to think that we, as a culture are on our way to the arenas of Rome. I know, there is a big distance between A and B here, but let me explain.
We already know that our reality shows contain manipulation. What is the harm of that? Those girls signed up for it, right? But one of the key elements that makes me squeamish is the disconnect audiences feel toward reality show contestants, and our strong desire for entertainment and distraction (whether it be from sore muscles or just escape from our normal existence). The TV audience has now been programmed to view some ghastly things without flinching. We do not know the contestants personally, even though we might be interested in their character. Stinks to be them… but oh well!
Last weekend I read the Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. It is one of the most suspenseful books I have read in a long time, and it articulates some of the cumulative thoughts and feelings I have had over the last year (since watching Miss. Hilton and her prospective B.F.F.s.) The book is in the category of teen lit, and so it spends some time on a love triangle that still hasn’t untangled itself by the second book (I’m not finished with that one yet), but over all it is a good read. It is insightful about the direction our society is taking. Not only in the sense that the storyline is woven around a reality TV show arena, where kids are forced to kill each other, but The Hunger Games also brings to light the vanity and self focus that often accompanies wealth. While the main character, Katniss, was having to deal with issues like death, shell-shock nightmares, poverty, hunger and being on the government’s hit list, another acquaintance, named Octavia, was living a life of ease in The Capital. Octavia lamented to Katniss the fact that her biggest disappointment in life was having people come to her Birthday party wearing feathers (it was apparently a fashion disaster). The irony is very apparent. This contrast was a reminder to me that as Americans we are rich compared to the rest of the world. If we close our eyes to the distraught, poor and hungry we are no better than Octavia. It was a direct hit between the eyes, but it is a point well taken.

Mmm bueno… Blue Bear is my favorite!

I am about to reveal something shocking (and perhaps EVEN terrifying) about my current living situation. I was opening the freezer drawer to retrieve a can of juice, when… I CAME ACROSS THIS!!!!



I know. That is exactly what I thought! It is not every day you find a frozen bear head in the freezer with the hair still on it, and the eyes and everything in tact! I don’t want you to think we are barbarians, however. There are still some indigenous tribes in the mountains of South America who routinely eat Blue Bear- it's just not commonly found in the United States. I have been flipping through the recipe books, and there is not even one recipe written for Blue Bear head that I could find. I was rather diligent in looking too, perusing many categories such as soups, casseroles, and even pies. My thoughts are, though, with a little hot sauce and some garlic it could turn out okay. If you have ever had this delicacy before, let me know. I am open to new ideas and recipes.

Forward Thinking

Isaiah 25:8-9

He will swallow up death forever;
and the Lord GOD will wipe away tears from all faces,
and the reproach of his people he will take away from all the earth,
for the LORD has spoken.
It will be said on that day,
"Behold, this is our God; we have waited for him, that he might save us.
This is the LORD; we have waited for him;
let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation."

Gut Experience

When I was a kid, one of my favorite sports was soccer. I remember one year especially being the hallmark year for getting the breath knocked out of me with the ball. I am not sure if it was because of the particular group of kids I was playing with, or that my stomach was a magnet for flying objects, or just that my skill level wasn’t quite there yet. But I remember that instantaneous feeling happening frequently in a period of a few months.
There is nothing like getting the breath knocked out of you. When your lungs are feeling collapsed, and when you don’t have any gumption to stand straight anymore. The whole world slows down, your eyes widen, and you focus on just one thing: B-R-E-A-T-H-E.
Last night I auditioned for the Topeka Symphony. I prepared. I practiced for it several hours a day for a few weeks, and felt solid on my repertoire. I came early, and was given the audition spot of number 2, which meant I could go in and get the audition over without waiting until my palms started to sweat first. It was all going well, until I heard the girl in front of me practicing one of the excerpts. Spiccato!? I didn’t know we had to play spiccato!!! It got my heart racing. When it came time to do the blind audition, I started with my most solid piece first. Mozart. I had been playing this certain piece of music since high school. With too much pressure on the bow I started too loudly, I couldn’t keep my intonation centered and clipped my beats- producing wretched rendition of something that sounded decent just 10 minutes beforehand. The following excerpts went better, but the sight reading left much to be desired. Overall I feel like I bombed it. Overall, it feels like I had the breath knocked out of me.
I haven’t heard if I got into the symphony or not, but my gut feeling is that it is a “no”, which is pretty disappointing. But what can you say? That’s life!
I’m going to put this down in my book as a learning experience… another one for this year that cuts deep- another failure; another pummel to the stomach. But there are still a few things left to do. Straighten up. Breathe. Don’t be afraid of the ball.