My Life

For about the last 3 years I have pondered where my life is going and how best I can go about changing my outlook on my career. Because I have yet to come up with any answers that seem to truly suit my fancy, I've decided to write about my life growing up in order to try and remember what was important to me before my parents tried to influence me one way or another.

Growing up in junior high and most notably in high school I was someone who always wanted to please my parents. I got good grades and enjoyed having my parents proud of me for my achievements. Even though I may not have been the best student as in getting a 4.0 every semester, my parents always told me  how proud they were of me and would tell me that I was going to go places. "You have the work ethic" or "you have the personality and study habits." Funny  thing considering that here I am at another crossroads with an accounting job that quite frankly I really do not enjoy all that much when I think about the various other joys in life that I seem to have to sacrifice just to make a damn fucking paycheck. 

When I majored in accounting I did not know what else to do. I thought of broadcast journalism - my childhood dream - with the intent of being the next Hank Greenwald, Bob Uecker, Duane Kuiper, Vin Scully, Dan Patrick, Bob Costas, Jim Nantz, etc. Marv Albert, Hubie Brown, Dick Stockton, Bob Ley, Chris Berman. I always thought it would be so fun to talk about sports all day and get paid for doing it - that isn't a job, that is just straight up awesome!! I would pretend to announce games in the shower, pretend I was doing the post-game interviews with the players. Pretend like I was in a roundtable discussion about the Warriors late-season demise or early playoff success. I left the field of Media Studies when I started at University of San Francisco because I was afraid that there would be no opportunities for me after college. I wrote for the school newspaper and was afraid to talk to the athletes and ask them questions about the games that when it came to reality seemed silly. The USF men's basketball team were by a majority, but perhaps just my perception, a group that could care two shits about the school they went to and a school newspaper writer asking about how it felt to put up a double double against Pepperdine. It did not seem important, what seemed important was writing for a major league team. I did not quite understand that you have to start somewhere - even from the very bottom - and work your way up in anything you do. I thought to myself, "Why do I want to write about these guys?" Looking back, I probably missed an opportunity to display some creativity in my writing and in my relationships with players at USF. 

But my confidence was sorely lacking when I was in college. Though I had friends, and seemingly a lot of them, and a lot of acquantances, I did not have the confidence to try out for the men's basketball team. I thought I was not good enough to make the team, I was nervous. I was intimidated by being in the presence of an all black team and being the only white guy when in all honesty I had probably Division 2 talent. I was 6'4" and 195 lbs, a post player in college with limited ball handling to say it lightly with average speed, decent jumping ability, an inconsistent jumper, but a willingness to work hard on the court because I was competitive. Looking back, do I wish I tried out for the team? Perhaps I do in a sense for it would have been a challenge that even if I never was able to accomplish at least I could say I tried out and gave it a shot. I would have to have been in good shape and ready to go, but if they said no than they said no. They could not say that I did not try to get in shape and be as ready as possible. It was the unknown, thinking that I was not good enough or strong enough or athletic enough or black enough. These dudes were not in my inner circle and I was certainly not in theirs. 

Why did I not have the confidence to go forth and achieve such a goal? I am not sure, but I can say that growing up in high school I felt like a big fish in a small pond. Though I may not have been the very best I was recognized for my efforts and the bit of talent that I had both on the court and in the classroom. I liked the attention, it was nice being the guy on top. At USF, I would have been the 15th guy on the bench and though I could not say from experience at the time it just seemed like it would not be worth warming the bench, spending all that time at practice, and spend that much time with a group of guys who I was different from and not comfortable with based on not only the fact I was not in anyone's circle but I was not as good as them either. And I knew it based on their athleticism, build, size, and sheer experience. 

But life is about choices you make and don't make, and all the decisions and no-decisions have helped me grow exponentially over time more than I could have imagined. I currently have great relationships with my family, friends, and have the confidence in myself that I did not have 8-10 years ago that slowly developed in my 20s. My confidence has allowed me to seriously explore teaching English overseas - perhaps in Istanbul, Colombia, Argentina, or Prague - which would not have been the case even two years ago let alone in college for there was certainly no chance of that happening back then. I have spoken with a career counselor about some of the struggles this decision has brought upon me as I go toward the next step in my life. The discussions have allowed me to let go a bit and let life's journey unfold. A buddy of mine once said that "life happens while you're making plans" (John Lennon quote?). I never thought that to be true at all until about four months ago when I thought to myself, "Perhaps there is some partial truth to this good 'ol saying." Why did I have a change of heart? Think about the girl you may have met on the bus, or at an art exhibit, or perhaps at a ballgame - a chance encounter that you did not plan. Perhaps she becomes a girlfriend, or maybe your wife. Did you plan for that? Hell no you did not. A walk home from work through Union Square and toward home on Polk St. - a random call to grab a glass of wine with friends and you strike a conversation with a random stranger at the bar who took a chance and left a profession that provided a lot of money and no happiness, providing a bit of confidence knowing that you are not the only one who is or has gone through such a decision. 

After pondering all my career options at this point, I can say that I am not ready to make a decision about what direction I want to go in. What I can say is that I need to take a chance and venture out of my comfort zone, use a different side of my brain for awhile - and perhaps it will be taking a year overseas to teach English to allow me the opportunity to clearly think about my next move. Or perhaps it won't clarify a thing. But I am only young once in life and I have an itch for new cultures, travel, and a confidence level to try something different and unique that I never had before. It took some bumps in life along the way to get to where I am today, but I am okay. And I am going to be okay and I look forward to the next step in life's journey. 

Detroit - coming home to SF

Detroit is a place like none other I have ever seen in the United States. Traveling on the various roads - on Mack Ave. from downtown to Gross Pointe, MLK Blvd. during the evening time with Justin, General Motors Blvd., Woodward Ave., etc. - you notice that Detroit is a place where you have to find a nice place essentially. Though downtown has seemingly received some money from city coffers, the area still lacks a vibrancy that you find in San Francisco, New York, and Chicago. There is not the kind of foot traffic (and car traffic) that you may expect of a city with a population of 850,000. That's the other thing, this is a city that is over 2.5 times the area of San Francisco and built for 2 million people - yet since 1950 the city has lost almost 1.15 million people to the outlying suburbs and sunbelt states most notably. You see it all over the city with regard to the infrastructure. Building after building after building, dilapidated with crumbling brick, boarded up windows, weeds overgrown for years. You'll see blocks where people live in a house and the three or four homes around it are completely abandoned with weeds and grass overgrowing on the surrounding lots. If you took Detroit's square mileage with 1950 population, you would have almost as many people per square mile as you do today in San Francisco, or roughly 15,000 folks. Now think about San Francisco with the same infrastructure but only 42.5% of the capacity. That is current day Detroit. 

The day after I got back from Detroit, walking San Francisco took on a different experience. The occasional smells of urine on the streets on my walk to work were not as potent, the sun shined a bit brighter (though it did shine bright before as well for I love walking to work when I am working in SF), I smiled a bit more at the locals I passed by. The homeless men and women and shady looking characters I may pass on a day-to-day basis did not bring upon the same level of mixed emotions. I kindly declined to give the man at Walgreens on Polk and California money but I looked at him in his eye and told him to have a good day rather than not look at him or ignore his request. I was more thought-provoking and open-minded toward the scenery around me. I was able to come more to grips with the fact that no matter what city or town you live in each place has its own set of issues and problems to improve upon. The levels of those issues is the matter that strikes a different chord here in San Francisco and California as a whole. We may have budget issues, the recession has not been kind to us given the subprime loan crisis, San Francisco has ongoing troubles trying to solve a homeless crisis that becomes seemingly unwinnable as time keeps passing, downtown people and car traffic is lighter than I can ever remember it, and certainly the extremely liberal SF Board of Supervisors (and mayor Gavin Newsom as well, who I hope finds a way to keep the 49ers in SF) seems to bother me more and more as I get older and pay more in taxes. But I'll take those issues and the new 9.5% sales tax. Why? Because I love San Franciso, I love California, and there is still no place like it even with all the travel I have done. I have not been everywhere, but I've been to New York, Boston, Chicago, Seattle, South Africa, Western/Central Europe, Hawaii, and others (big shout out to Milwaukee baby!!). The natural beauty of San Francisco, the various strong economic sectors and hard working individuals that fuel the engine here day in and day out, the arts and creativity and the sheer activity and movement of those who live and visit here continue to inspire me to want to achieve more everyday in various aspects of my life. It makes me want to travel more, read more, write more, reflect more, appreciate the arts more, take in someone's personal story, appreciate my friends, appreciate my family, and more. Visiting Detroit allowed me to explore a city I've always wanted to see for myself - its good, bad, and ugly - and I still have hope that Detroit will see brighter days. I have a soft spot for the city given its great history and for all it has done to strengthen this country since the beginning of the 20th century with its vast contribution to the automotive industry and heavy industry as a whole. The visit also allowed me to appreciate my second hometown a little bit more. 

Detroit - The Emotional Toll

I am not 100% sure as to why the city of Detroit has had such an emotoinal effect on me during this trip. I initially took this trip to see if what was read about and seen image-wise was true to its form. Was it that abandoned? Did it really contain the level of poverty that is constantly written about? Were there a ton of empty lots full of weeds? Was it a company town like what has been documented? Some answers I received thus far, some I have not. I am certainly convinced that this is a city made for 2 million people with a population of 850,000 or so. I am convinced certainly that there is a lot of land abandoned, full of weeds and blight and structures empty but still standing (some better than others, many boarded up and/or with broken windows). I can't say for sure that this is strictly a company/industry town, though if I had to put a wager on it in Vegas (or Detroit for that matter), I'd say that it very much is. Listening to the news today, reading the Detroit Free Press while eating a breakfast crepe snack, and exploring the GM Headquarters at the Detroit Renaissance Center overlooking the Detroit River into Canada, it became very apparent how engrained manufacturing - notably automotive - is in the fabric of Detroit and the greater Michigan. CEO Fritz Henderson spoke today after Barack Obama addressed the nation in regards to todays Chapter 11 bankruptcy announcement in New York. He talked about the new GM that will come about given the clean balance sheet GM will have if they are indeed able to rid themselves of both the level of debt owed to lenders and the legacy costs of paying pensions and health care benefits to those now retired workers. But in the process, they will close 12 plants, including one in Pontiac, Flint, Ypsilanti, and Lavonia. There will be an additional closing in Grand Rapids but the first four were the ones discussed in the most detail given the proximity to metro Detroit. A UAW labor rep in Ypsilanti talked about how this will devastate the community. Analysts and executives agree, however, that even though the decision was difficult it was something that had to be done. And my feeling has been the same since the government started lending GM money. It is a corporation that really has not competed from a cost perspective for decades and though the quality of vehicles has improved the last few years to levels on par with the Japanese, GM has a repuation that needs a huge facelift. All of this information came during my morning in downtown Detroit area and my drive to Flint, Michigan where I was going to the Alfred Sloan Museum to see the exhibits about Flint and the automotive history of the town.

Michael Moore turned me onto Flint like many others I am sure, putting a camera lense on a community that had been so ill affected by the plant closings GM instilled during the 1980s and early 1990s due to NAFTA and free trade notably with Mexico. Plants were being moved south of the border for cheaper wages and overall costs at the sacrifice of American communities like Flint. The museum told the story as to the great number of years in which Flint agreed, "What is good for GM is good for Flint." They built Buicks, Chevys, tanks during the second world war. It was a community that grew so fast in the 1920s and the 1940s that some migrants and immigrant labor had to sleep in makeshift tents because of a lack of housing. In 1960, Flint had a population of 196,000 while today that population is closer to 114,000. Driving through Flint initially, I was surprised to see the amount of activity in the civic center area when coming off of the freeway - good 'ol I-475. It was nothing special really in the sense of its beauty or outlandish desolation, but there were people roaming about with a purpose and though the area looked a bit tired the activity made the structures and landscape seem more lively. I took the wrong off-ramp, however, and headed toward the next exit which was the cultural center exit. My experience at the Alfred Sloan museum certainly tells the story of Flint like a brief summary of American history - industrial revolution with the automobile at the turn of the century, huge growth in the urban areas in the 20s, depression in the 30s, war industry in the 40s, consumerism and boom time in the 50s, de-industrialization, white flight, and sunbelt migration starting the 1960s along with new minorities moving in (in the case of Flint, Puerto Ricans in addition to the black population already there).

But after my museum trip I did two things - I went to a local diner to grab a sandwich and I drove around the area outside of the university and cultural and civic centers. Though the level of abandonment and decay was not on the levels like I saw in Detroit, it existed. Poor blacks sitting outside decayed and run-down homes, roof and pillar structures tipping on their sides as if it they're going to collapse. And of course the weeds. The lunch spot I went to was another example of what I noticed in large sections of both Ohio and Michigan - an older population and a poor young population. The waitress was probably no older than me, working in this small, local cafe that probably hasn't had an update in 30 years. There were six other people besides me in the cafe and they were two older ladies and two older gentlemen - three of whom smoked - who were watching the television watching the day go by slowly, a middle-age gentleman in front of me a few booths, and myself. You walk outside and it was a gray day on this flat terrain of one-story buildings. Though time never stops, time has certainly slowed a great deal in Flint. I departed back to Detroit metro to meet Justin, to catch up on the day and discuss more tales of urban decay and how the California Bay Area is so different.

Detroit - Day #1 and mixed emotions

Detroit – Rolling up I-75 on my way to D-town and I am getting butterflies not knowing what to expect. Of course it would have been nice had there not been a detour to Michigan highway 24 because I-75 was closed up for a portion of it. But it all worked out, and I arrived in Southfield, Michigan at the lovely plush Candlewood Inn and Suites. Okay, the place was awful and slightly depressing and Justin said the same thing before I even mentioned it. He laughed, slapped me a five and a hug, and said, “This place blows doesn’t it?” And it was bad, but hilarious at the same time given that this is a suburb of Detroit. Nothing like office parks, flat landscape, empty parking lots, and the good ol’ Candlewood Suites. We instantly dropped the stuff off and explored Greektown Detroit. We drove down Woodward Ave., tried to find some areas of where boarded up mansions were located just south of 8 mile (and came up short), and witnessed some of the depressing aspects of Detroit along its most popular road that heads toward downtown. There were stretches of it that just had nothing in it, people squandering around with no intended purpose, boarded up houses, grassy lots with no buildings – just depressing. It was something really that I had never seen before. Pictures on a computer is one thing, but seeing it - even in a car - was kind of unreal.

It was not the worst place I've ever seen considering I've traveled to 2nd and 3rd world countries before. But in America, it seems that this kind of economic depression would not exist. But it does in Detroit. But safety wise Justin and I were okay given that this is one of Detroit's main drags. Once you hit Wayne State and the Detroit Institue of Art, things start to brighten up somewhat. Then there is the Theatre District with the Fox Theatre, Comerica Park - home of the Tigers - Ford Field where the Lions play, and eventually the financial district. Justin and I parked the car over in Greektown and got some grub over at Pegasus Taverna, but because we parked over at a Casino parking lot we had to test whether we had a gambling problem or not when we passed through to get to the outside. We passed the test with flying colors though and enjoyed our quick jaunt through the smoke-filled casino at Caesers (I believe). We both enjoyed a solid Canadian brew called Labatt. It is very tasty, smooth, quite riveting actually. The food was solid - not great, not bad - but the funniest part of the dinner was the waiter's reaction to the fact that I did not order any meat dishes. He asked, "You vegetarian?," with almost a look of contempt on his face. I said, "No, just don't feel like any meat." "Okay...," he said. I kind of shrugged my shoulders after he gave a vegetarian recommendation and left our table - apparently you are on the "that guy" list for not ordering a meat dish. Of course coming into the casino prior to our arrival was another moment of hilarity given that they ID you and here are two men in there 20s rolling through together to go to dinner with California ID's - rather San Francisco ID's. I can only imagine what went through the head of that dude as he looked at the both of us after swiping through our identification.

The two bars we hit up on Woodward after dinner were Hockeytown and the Magic Stick. Prior to this though we took a little external tour of Comerica Park, home of the Tigers. This park from the outside was beautiful and looking into it through the gates it looked like more of the same inside. Both Justin and I made note that we both wanted to go to the game Tuesday against the Red Sox because seeing a game at this ballyard looked like a great experience. There is a huge Tigers statue out front to greet you and well-sculpted Tiger heads around the gates of the park. You can truly tell that the city of Detroit, the park designers and construction team put in a lot of time and effort to get this thing right. We'll see if I feel the same after Tuesday's game, but I must say that with all the depressed landscape I saw this was a lovely bright spot.

My airport buddy in Akron recommended seeing Hockeytown, so Justin and I hit it up and drank in the Detroit sports bar experience. Given that it was Red Wings-Penguins, game 1 of the Stanley Cup you knew it was a busy night. This bar, let me tell you - nothing like this in San Francisco and I am kind of glad in a sense. There were about 4-5 floors, about 3-4 rooms on each floor to watch the game - one or two large bar areas, private party-esque area with TV's and a projector screen, restaurant-type area with multiple TV's - a movie theater area to watch the game on the ground floor, a roof-top bar to watch on a projector, and a grassy knoll area outside to watch as well. All with volume from the television and loud as hell, which is great because if you're watching a big game you need volume. No music people playing while you're watching a big game, I need to hear the announcers in order to get fully engrained. But this place was over-the-top. Red Wings jerseys everywhere, life seemingly in the balance with every turning point - the dudes in front of us on the ground floor bar exasperated when the Wings got hit with a penalty leading to a Penguins power play. I had seen these jerseys everywhere prior to and during the contest (and thereafter as well for the next 48 hours). Men, women, children, everybody with jerseys. I told Justin, "I don't know about you, but I am rooting for the Pens - this is ridiculous." Justin's comment: "Fuck the Red Wings, go Avalanche." Loved it.

After Justin and I explored this place and the crevices of it - interrupting private parties, walking in front of televisions, checking out the roof-top bar - we headed to the Magic Stick. Got to love a bar with a bowling alley that takes you back circa 1976 with the DJ playing some funky tunes. Stayed for two rounds, kicked it, drank in the scene, called it an evening and headed back to the car.

Along the walks we took in downtown and toward Mid-town and Magic Stick we were asked for change about four times and one woman asked us for a cigarette. Given I don't smoke and Justin does, Justin kindly provided the lady a cigarette. She was visually seeming to have a rough night, perhaps a rough life. If I had to put money on it, I think she was a hooker who had a drug problem given a few things - it was a relatively warm night and she was freezing with layers on, she was on the corner alone, and she asked us what we wanted for the cigarette in a way that didn't seem to be money-driven. Prior to our arrival to Hockeytown, a young kid asked us for bus money so that he would not get in trouble with his parole officer since he was on probation. I was not about to take my wallet out, but Justin kindly put a little change in his hand and reached out and quickly dropped the money in his hand. He asked for some kind of directions or location of a bus stop, and we played dumb. Later after our Magic Stick excursion, a guy pulled over and asked us if we knew where a particular location was. We both said we didn't know, and I looked at Justin and said, "Do you think he asked that to see if we knew where we were and what the hell we were doing out here?" Justin: "I don't know, but I kind of got that feeling too." We were fine though, made it to the car in one piece. It is probably just me, but when you are walking through a new place that is unfamiliar, even on a main drag, in a rough city with a rough reputation and being white kids in a very poor and predominately black city, you just don't know what to expect. With all the racial tension and race-related matters that have occured in Detroit - 1967 race riots, white flight, Coleman Young's controversial tenure regarding white/black race relations and the increasing white flight during his administration, police brutality being the #1 issue seen amongst Detroit residents pre-1967, whites being paid more than blacks for the same work in the automotive industry, the razing of black neighborhood(s) to build Interstate 75 in the 1960s, the drastic economic effects on the uneducated and unskilled black population in and around Detroit due to de-industrialization - the issue is very prevalent in this city in particular. But seemingly like anywhere, if you know where you are going and mind your own business, you are generally going to be okay and we were. Day #2 starts with the Arab-American Museum in Dearborn and the Detroit Historical Museum in Mid-town next to Wayne State.