Living The Stream

The mathematics and technology are far beyond me.

It might be easier to say it's magic.

Yet here, in the basement of my house, in what I will term as my "office," I can stream the world to my fingertips.

While I write this, I will have Twitter open and be consuming a live stream of a local sports talk show.  While, that's going on, I'll have a tablet open streaming a live cable channel.  On the side, should I need a preposterous third source of media, I have my cell phone, capable of pretty much everything I just mentioned, as well as the ability to broadcast and record myself.

The kind of equipment that now feels standardly equipped on a smart phone has eclipsed everything I was using at Penn State in 2006.

I'm watching the war in Ukraine live.  I'm absorbing the latest on Penn State wrestling while simultaneously writing on the computer.  I'm taking pictures of the whole setup with my personal phone.

These are wild times.

For less than $20, I can get completely wireless headphones that enable me to listen to these organized data streams wherever I go.

I am convinced that streaming is already the preferred way of broadcasting today.  The new question is, "What is the next level of streaming?".

The thought that comes most to mind is increased interactivity and immersion.

As technology companies experiment with the VR technology of today, it is easy to see where we might be headed next.  For one, the experience of live events will eventually change forever.  Rather than the stationary viewpoint, or rather, being prescribed a viewpoint by a single producer, the level of control will be put into our hands.

Yet for all the advances in technology, I can't help but feeling somehow less connected.  As though I'm a fading ghost living in a world I can effect and be effected by the digital world, but my connection to the physical one dwindles.

As I've become cognizant of these feelings, I've attempted to become more present in my face-to-face interactions and put more stock in doing things that don't require typing and clicking.  Taking walks with my wife.  Working on campus.  Calling my parents and friends.  Playing basketball at the park.  This provides me with a balance to the stream.  A way to ground me back to the physical world.

Covid-19 accelerated our collective lust for streaming platforms to a point that now requires a bit of a push back, as we try not to lose ourselves in the wizardry of what the internet is capable of. That might explain that while the metaverse and streaming virtual realities may indeed be the future, what people want right now is to run free and have an effect on the real world.

 

The Break

As the light peeks through semi-closed blinds in the morning you can begin to sense it.  A warmth from the sun that feels like a forgotten memory sliding back into consciousness.

The birds are boasting in the morning, their loud chirps accompanying our collective rise with a sense of undaunted ambition.

Spring and summer are coming.

It's still freezing cold mind you.  The frost on the grass and windshield give me no illusions that winter is over.  But as the morning glow fills the kitchen as I make breakfast, there is a sense nirvana and peace that has been missing for months.

The work of daily life seems just a little bit more relaxed.  The taste of food seemingly slightly more fresh.

This is where I want to be.

The brightening sun and warmer weather makes me feel as though there is an electric current crackling through my body.  Like I am ready to burst out of my shell and morph into my next evolutionary phase. 

In this place of mind is the perfect place to tackle the obstacles and projects that require extended and multiple efforts.

It is also the mental space that makes it easier to relax into a slower unwind of the sunset.

This is the place to begin and find ourselves once again.

The Infinite Possibilities of a Putin-less Russia

The paradox of the word is that is both uncomprehensively and yet so specifically small.  

By that I mean there is no way for any single human to completely fathom the amount of EVERYTHING that is going on day by day.  Yet even so, we can understand that the earth has a specific measurements that can be measured and put into context so that we can shoot satellites into space and triangulate our positions.

The world is both infinite and specific.

So when Russia decided to invade Ukraine under the guise of distrust of one government and the parade of misinformation cascaded down, it was hard to know for some exactly what was happening.

For weeks, the U.S. has said that they think Putin wanted to enact terms of war in an effort gain full control of the Government and territory that is Ukraine.  It was no secret that Russian forces were in fact gathering at the borders.  Yet some remained skeptical.  Some even admired Putin publicly and characterized his murdering of Ukrainians as "strength" and his lies as "savvy" 

While Russia has acted aggressively and in a manner that flagrantly disregards the rules and conditions of others, they still have a dedicated propaganda campaign dedicated to normalizing and excusing their actions.

Then, on Febuary 24th, Putin deflivered his war speech, and a full scale invasion was set in motion.

Russia has acted as though living in the same part of the world where your identity and governance are recognized wouldn't matter.  Worse, it appears they have signaled that their military doesn't not particularly care about the body count as multiple civilian structures have been hit by what appears to be cluster bombing. 

Putin is using the weight of their nuclear arsenal, and the thought that they might actually destroy large sections of the world with them as a deterrent.

And while the most of the West is United in allowing weapons to flow in and arm the Ukrainians and NATO allies, it is specifically not sending in troops, hoping that cooler heads may finally prevail.

What should be clear to the world over is that Putin must go.

He is not a leader of men, he is a tyrant ruling by fear and leverage. 

He jails and kills dissidents and journalists

He threatens families.

He uses a white supremacist mercenary group as his private army

We know who Putin is.  He is specific and known.


The Russian people, however, are infinite.

The Russian people do not need to bomb Ukraine.   They do not need to suffer at the hands of an awful ruler.  A mad man.  They do not need to destroy the entire world for one man's ego.

Vladamir Putin cannot personally carry out a strike against the West.

Other Russians would have to follow that lead and carry out those orders.  

The Russian people have a choice.  Support Putin and more death and a harsher world for us all; or finally get rid of the dictator and rejoin and build society.

It is nearly assured, that the replacement of Putin is in the best interests of Russia and the World.

Every effort must be made to deliver that sentiment to the entirety of Russian society.

One of disarmament, peace, and prosperity with the removal of a dictator.

With Putin gone from the stage perhaps Russia could begin in earnest to reshape itself and the world into a new era of peace.  

Begin new alliances that work for the betterment of all people rather than the hoarding done by a select few.

Russia must reject Putin not only to avoid certain destruction, but also to embrace a better future.

Accessing The Planes Of Magic: A Video Game Story

 In the Fall of 1996, I was beginning seventh grade.  To this point my established identity felt pretty clear.  I knew I was an athlete.  I had no doubts in my head at this point that if I worked hard enough I could accomplish some things that I had been dreaming about in the near future.  I loved football and basketball and would watch every single game I could of every level.  I would shoot and dunk on my 9'6" rim, anxiously awaiting for my calves to become stronger than my love of pizza.

But, there was always another strong, STRONG pull.  Interests that would be decidedly less popular to the mainstream than that of the athlete.  The niche world of fantasy, art, and the beauty of being able to escape reality through imagination.

I loved the fantasy world of books, movies, television and other forms of storytelling I could get my hands on.  After watching Jurassic Park in theaters, I was reading the book.  I read R.L. Stine's Goosebumps series during math class.  I had been reading at an advanced level for most of my youth devouring young adult fiction as well as the titillating horror of Stephen King and Dean Koontz.  Comic books and the X-Men animated show on Fox were all consuming for me.

The worlds imagined and put onto the screens felt real to my child heart and imagination.  I could feel my soul escape to those worlds, and it would bring me such an enveloping sense of joy.

It is in the dynamic and split headspace that I find myself in the cafeteria and passing a group of male peers playing a card game that catches my attention.

While the players held their cards as though they were playing poker, it was clear that these playing cards were vastly different.  The back of all the cards appear to be the same with a brown background, a logo in light blue that reads Magic: The Gathering, and five gems in the center positioned in pentagram.  The front of cards varied, some with large symbols and looking identical to each other, while others featured numbers and seemingly whole paragraphs printed for instructions.

While I had no cards, I couldn't hide my intrigue and took an open seat at the large circular table.  As it so happened, one of the kids, Joe, had invited me over to his place a few weeks earlier and showcased the PC strategy game World of Warcraft to me for the first time.  Joe was my lone "in" to this new world that seemed kind of like a Dungeons and Dragons concept but perhaps more simplified and visual.

I didn't know anyone that well besides Joe outside of a class here or there.  It was made up of maybe 4 other guys who, between them, had played 2 full games of flag football, but might have already won 6 scholarships for robotics. 

I watched as they took turns, occasionally moving the cards on and off, turning them on some occasions, turning them back on others.  The system beyond my grasp in the moment, distracted by the amount of things going on in both the art of the cards and the complexity of a card game.  I felt slightly anxious as I felt their eyes creep over to inspect me as if to understand why someone who looked like me and had a reputation closer to that of a jock or a jester, had any interest in their table.

I felt out of place.

And that was pretty much going to be the end of my infatuation with Magic The Gathering.

Until the game recently debuted across the smartphone over the past 2 years.

Now, in the comfort of my car, in the waiting room for a doctor, or any other part of my life where I don't need to be particularly engaged, I can escape into a world that I couldn't fit into years ago.

The game is fun and interesting, with variances for play styles and deck building, but ultimately still a card game that will depend on logic and luck of the draw.

By moving to the digital space, Magic has opened itself up to a vast new world of would-be nerds and geeks that don't outwardly project the typical image that existed in mid 90's.

Magic it seems, is finally for everyone.

A Geriatric Millenial In The Thick Of It

"You're as significant and talented as anyone else in this world, but you aren't better than anyone else in this world".

It is a simple saying.  One that for me, has resonated for my entire life.  

This was the first core value my father tried to instill in me.  A sense of confidence in my own abilities, but to respect and acknowledge the talents of others.

It has served me well in finding my center in the world; balancing my ambition within the confines of humility.  

Still, I can't help but want to do something special in this moment and time we all find ourselves in.

I want to be a part of a change that completely transforms the political divisiveness that has nearly crushed our country

How do I that?

These are the thoughts the circle in my mind as I cruise down towards the grocery store in my 2010 Sentra.  I've become a part-time Instacart shopper during the pandemic, helping shop for groceries in a community that has been my home for 38 years.  

The routine is easy enough through the store; grabbing potatoes, bananas, frozen desserts, and bags of chips, all while listening to wirelessly streamed podcasts and playlists in my ears.  I start with a comedy newscast and then transition to an algorithmically produced playlist.

The money per Instacart trip isn't bad in the current economic climate.  Or at least it generally does enough to pay the bills.

I'm making great time through the beginning of the session, making substitutions where necessary and finding the items in what feels like a more and more efficient fashion.  I'm relaxed and everything is going according to plan when the customer notifies me that she would like to change her substitutions and for me to look for a separate item.

I'm starting to lose time, and in the same breath money.

The green digital clock within the Instacart app counts down, and what once felt like a relaxing shop where I would be paid pretty well has become a bit of a panic inducing goose chase.  As the clock goes from green to red, I become increasingly frustrated and rely on the breathing techniques advised by my therapist in times of mental stress.


As I begin to unload my cart, I'm hit with yet another wave of anxiety that produces sweat under my winter jacket. The wave stems from the combination of cramped quarters within the check-out lane and the time in which I will need to unload the orders all while being ready to pay in a timely fashion.  

It reminded me of being in the hospitality industry and experiencing what we would call a "rush" and the resulting stress of certain time and capability constraints when customers would arrive nearly simultaneously.  

Thankfully the person working the register couldn't have been kinder and did everything they could to help me, even separating the order on the back end by putting a paper bag as a divider as to where he put them and took the time to explain what he did for me.   

I drive back to campus, delivering to a student who didn't know her mother ordered her Instacart as well as cupcakes to a local hospital. 

Then....it's on to the next gig.  

The next gig in this case is a return trip home to eat lunch, help prepare dinner, and write so that maybe in the future I won't have to do grocery shopping that also induces anxiety attacks.  

I know that I need to write more often.  But the truth is that I'm scared shitless that my voice and talent won't be well received with  numerous grammatical errors and narrative flaws.

So often, I've been putting off writing seriously and have just been scrolling through Twitter with half-baked threads.

But I know that if I'm serious about changing the world that I exist in, I have to act on behalf of that change, and to do that means a commitment to writing during the day.

Lunch is delicious leftover pasta, some kettle cooked chips and iced animal crackers, and big glass of water.  I know it's not the best lunch, but it's not the worst all things considered.  I'm thinking about what to write about it, how to add to the rough draft I had started about being essentially a geriatric millennial who is living through the heart of whatever we will call this period in American History.

I look down at the clock.  1:54.  I haven't prepped the chicken yet but it won't take long.  I have time, but I'll have to leave by 2:30 to get to my next job, this time with Penn State, helping check people into a Covid-19 study.   Today might actually be my last day in this particular role as I'll be training a student replacement to take over what is generally thought of to be sure as a simple task.

From 3-6 my only questions are ethical ones regarding how much of a backstory from this probable Gen Z person should I try to gather?  Should I bring up my own history at Penn State?  Would it be worth it or would it simply be far easier to just talk about about the stir-fry I'm now looking forward to for dinner?

I shut down the lap-top and head in.  

The shift and training go well enough with the trainee, a 21 year old senior from Connecticut named Madison.  

Madison reminds me of nearly every college senior I've had the pleasure of meeting.  Optimistic, but in some ways, confused and uncertain about the future.  Deciding on a career path, but scared that the act of choosing one door will close so many others.  We cover the check-in process with ease and then go on to talk about who we were and why we were both in the Noll lab at 4:30.  I try to stress that the success that you have in any job, even one as simple as this, is that you try and stay positive through the check in process and to remain attentive and personable to people and what that means.

Before I know it the shift is over and it's time to go home.  Back to the family life.

I spend pretty much every evening with my wife, who I've been with for the past 11 years and married for the past 5 and a half.  For us both of us, we enjoy stories of all kinds.  To be sure, our preferences are divergent, with her preferring Disney-styled movies and comedies that are almost sure to put her into a good mood.  I on the other hand like a wider array of movies and seem to be drawn these days towards either action movies, documentaries and movies that seem to take certain risks within their storytelling.

So we settle in with making some stir-fry at home and watching some of our favorite shows on the couch, and by eight or nine o'clock both my wife and I are ready for bed.

And I haven't saved the world yet.

This is an average day for this 38 year old with a degree in journalism, an employment history of hospitality, and current situation of working hourly jobs until I can find what I would term a more permanent place within the local media community.

The next day occurs and it's another variation of the same basic formula.  An odd job here and there, some Instacarting and boom, bills are paid, food is on the table, and I'm able to put a little bit away here and there.

But it feels like I'm capable of so much more.

Like while I am fine to do the things that I'm currently doing because I know that I'm good at it and useful in that regard, it isn't what I should be doing. 

What I should be doing is writing, and trying to change the world with my voice.

In 2001 I was 17 and was in the midst of making the next choice of my life.  Should I go into the military with the country suddenly engaged with Afghanistan?  Should I go to college at Penn State and pursue both football and jounalism?

I chose college and while I achieved a dream in becoming part of a Division 1 football program; I would also feel defeat when I decided to give up the game when I struggled with grades as well as fitting in.

I have been touched by mental health issues and have experienced depression and anxiety throughout both my adolescence all the way through adulthood.

I graduated with a degree in journalism in a space that was constantly changing, and at almost every turn, it felt like for the worst.

So I spurned that path early on and went on to work in hospitality as door/security staff.

I fell in love with a lot of that crew and it felt like after a while, they did me.  I fell in love with my job and atmosphere and everything is coming up roses.  I become a manager; I meet and marry my wife.

Then 2016 happens and it feels like a rug was pulled out.

The ugliness of America marched through everyone's home as a man proudly proclaiming he "grabbed women by the pussy" became President.  

America becomes as divided as I've ever felt it.

Then some changes come through the job, and I fall out of love with that.  The environment changed significantly over the next two years and in the end decided to change my work environment significantly.

I left hospitality for an opportunity to return to Penn State as a research assistant where my skills allowed me to help lead with the on-boarding of various study subjects.

I helped prepare a controlled diet for people involved in a spice study sponsored by McCormick.  In another I led Covid-19 positive participants through a nasal rinse.  Currently I check people in for a different Covid-19 study.

This work is more rewarding to my soul and sense of balance, but I must say it isn't truly what I want to be doing with the majority of my time. Most of my coworkers keep asking what else I'm going to do.  How am I going to get there?

My journey is still ongoing.

I'm going to keep writing.  

I'm going to keep sharing my imperfect experiences hoping that those stories might bring a sense of shared community.

I don't believe my voice is better or more important than anyone else's.  That doesn't mean that I don't believe I have a valuable story to tell.

The Pessimist Is Strong In Me. Go Birds.

I am not expecting the Eagles to win.

Yes I know the storylines of hope.

I just don't trust them.

Tampa doesn't have a complete complement of receivers and will be reintroducing a multitude of players coming back from Covid-19 and injury.

The Eagles can run the ball and keep the ball away from Tom Brady.

They have a tough and opportunistic defense, especially on the front line, where they have one of the best interior defensive lineman in the league in Fletcher Cox.

It's the NFL and anything can happen.

Yet, I just can't imagine it with this squad, and my history of watching and rooting for the game.

Tampa Bay, depleted as they might be, has perhaps the best minds in terms of understanding football and putting a team in the best play to win.  I think Tampa will be slowed, but I suspect they will have the right plays called more often than not to put their remaining stars and players in excellent position.  Even if you haven't heard of half the players catching passes from Tom Brady today, I suspect by Monday one them will be a new name to know going forward.

On the flipside, when the Eagles have the ball I can only realistically see a few occasional splash plays off of play action, or if Tampa Bay moves to a prevent style of defense once getting a lead.

Running in the playoffs, when the other team knows you don't have a consistent passing game is nearly impossible.

Right now the Eagles offense is dependent on some sort of effectiveness from a rushing attack that features multiple backs and big plays from its receiving group, and realistically, I just can't see it happening against a pretty stout Tampa Bay defense.

Still, I won't be able to tear my eyes from the screen this afternoon because at the end of the day, in one football game, you still gotta believe that anything can happen.

Go Birds.

College Football Is Officially Broken. How A National Championship Has Become A Regional Sport

I didn't watch a play of the National Championship.  I didn't care anymore.  

It might seem bizarre to not watch the final game of the season.  The championship that is the end all prize.  Yet I couldn't feign even the slightest interest in the game.

This is the second consecutive year in which that was the case.

I am told that Alabama and Georgia had legendary teams.  Both squads full of athletic prodigies that had been the most sought after prizes of their respective classes.  I am sure that the football being played was nearly to the level of a professional game.  Yet for all the promise of greatness that was to be on my screen, I had no interest in watching.

I had no interest because the system continues to work against parody, against equity and against the spirit of competition.

Alabama, as well as a few other SEC teams have been gaming the system, and they've been doing it for nearly 2 decades.

The open secret?  The SEC has better bag men than everyone else, and are institutions that only care about having the best football programs in the country and the money it brings.

Alabama of course is the best at it.  Perhaps no school has a history of cheating both on and off the record like Alabama.  The result?  A monopoly like we've never seen on the top football talent in America.  

Alabama is winning at a rate that begs the question: just what exactly has occurred that so many football prospects are heading to one school to prepare them for the next level and have damned the rest of the college landscape to an eternal second place?

The answer seems to simply be Nick Saban and Alabama are in bed with the NCAA to such an absurd degree that Alabama can do no wrong.  In fact, by advertising for AFLAC, one of the NCAA's major corporate sponsors, it makes sense for the NCAA to protect people like Saban.

No one is concerned about the academic standards at Alabama or the majors the athletes choose.  They care about winning football games.  They care about getting their kids to the league and how they play there.  They are what College Football is.  A corrupt institution proudly out in front in first place, even if they aren't today's technical champion (Congrats, Georgia).

The ratings from the game have come in, and while they were up from last year's Covid-19 re-tread of Alabama vs Clemson, they are clearly still lagging compared to what it could be.  The reason?  A re-match was held due to the argument that Georgia's resume was better than Notre Dame's and that both teams had the best argument for the final spot.

No one wants rematches in College Football if it can be helped, and but the fact that the system dumped that scenario onto the public was not what was going to be sold.

ESPN, who has a deal specific with both the SEC and the NCAA CFP, has a vested interest in pushing two SEC schools for its own ratings and brand value.

But the sport is worse for it.

Former fans of the National game such as myself are fatigued by a sport that no longer celebrates even the idea of the student-athlete and instead has prided itself on becoming another shining beacon of winner-take-all ethos.

To fix it we need people who care less about stacking up money and championships by rigging a system, and more about promoting an equitable system that works for the common good. 

We can talk about adding teams to a playoff, standardizing the amount of conference games or even if there should be salary cap for this new amateur/minor/major league hybrid, but at the end of the day the sport is run by people, and if those people choose to act corruptly, then the sport will become corrupt no matter what system is put in place.

The NCAA needs new stewardship and a crackdown on what is going on in college sports today or at the very least, transparency.  Millions of dollars are just flying around in pursuit of championships and ego. 

It needs to be reigned in.