Should the Sunday Drive survive?

It is something that I’ve become accustomed to hearing as I tell people that I’m preparing for any trip of a personal nature. The moment that I tell someone that I am driving to get to my destination, I am almost always asked some variation of the question “Am I crazy?” followed normally by the question “Why not (insert mode of transportation here)?” It is one of the times where I realize that I was either born in the wrong period or life or that maybe, just maybe, I am just as crazy as people have always suggested. I hope it’s neither, that it’s the explorer that led me to study history as my life’s work that is trying to make me a better person. My former student activities advisor, John Bennett, has ironically written about the same topic recently on his blog and for a somewhat similar reason. When people travel through the same areas every day, it becomes so normal that it takes a sudden change, like the one that he mentions, to realize that it’s occurred. If you don’t travel through areas normally, this can be applied to the idea that the airplane allows you to see the world, though you are not likely to notice the nuances that are happening at ground level unless they’ve caused an extreme change to the landscape as viewed from above. Bets and I recently returned from a trip to Ashland, OH to visit her family for the holidays. Our trip took us through several of the larger cities located along Interstates 65 and 71, including Nashville, TN, Louisville, KY, Cincinnati, OH & Columbus, OH. All of these cities are metropolises of one type or another, and all cities that I grew up knowing of their existence but not necessarily seeing them. The ability to drive through these towns (making sure that I did not cause any major car pileups while gawking at the buildings and amenities that existed) instead of getting on the bypass that allows you to skip the soul of a region is something that I would encourage anyone who has the time and the means to do. I do realize that getting to California from the East Coast requires the plane ride as well as overseas trips so I want to make sure I mention that before someone attempts to point out that fact as a smart aleck way of missing the point. Mapquest and our need to get somewhere quickly to enjoy every possible second of every trip has caused us to sometimes not realize some hidden gems. There are so many people trying to rush through or get out that sometimes people fail to realize the joys that exist just under the surface. For daily travel within the city, maybe we should leave it to those forms of mass transit that will allow us to stop, pause and take note of the resources that already exist here instead of looking for something to come in and provide it. It also wouldn’t hurt if a bike lane or two allowed us to meander through neighborhoods and enjoy a sense of community, but I digress. During our trip, I used my car for a quick half day trip over to Mansfield. I was able to park easily, and then take to the streets by foot, exploring the town and its gorgeous carousel (sorry, no picture this time, maybe next time). I did take a picture of these old signs because I had seen one of them on the National Trust’s Main Street website and was thrilled to find their actual home. I still wonder how many times I would have missed something if I hadn’t wandered off of the fast track for a moment. If you have the opportunity to travel to another city within your region, perhaps the automobile, the old U.S. highway system and our sense of adventure should allow us to enjoy the Sunday drive slowing down to enjoy the view. I’d hope the same would also be true with life. Take a chance to slow down and enjoy every once in a while. That’s the plan for the new year for me, as well as some day and weekend trips to continue exploring some great towns. Comments, questions, weird dancing bear pics… let me know.

Light it up!

With the flip of the switch (OK, maybe the wave of a hand) and a flash of red in the saturated evening sky, one of the Magic City’s most iconic structures reclaimed its place in the nighttime sky. The relighting of the City Federal building sign on December 14 also served as a symbol of things to come in Birmingham, hopefully many good things.

I live at one of the busier intersections in downtown Birmingham, and already enjoy a pretty interesting view of Vulcan sitting atop Red Mountain. The other view that I have had for the past year was of a quiet, sleeping giant that has recently been happily disturbed in recent months as it one again took its place in the region. My girlfriend cannot help but stop and stare out of the window in the evening every time she walks by. A clear night allows you to see it at least two miles out in all directions. It’s a cool and accommodating view at the same time. It’s the first building that I ever heard of before I ever came to visit the city in the late 90s. I’ve heard of dreams for top floor restaurants, artists’ workspaces, and the prominence that this building could have again.

It definitely represents what the city’s past and it’s potential in the future. The group described by Next Generation’s Rebecca Ryan as transplants and boomerangs at the Chamber's annual meeting last week are enjoying the excitement that this and the scores of other buildings either in design or construction/rehabilitation mean for the city. There are many that also await the status of the Railroad Reservation Park, seen by many to be a key to future development in the downtown Birmingham area.

Stepping outside of the city center, you see homes being renovated throughout the city, businesses expressing interest to expand into our region and plans for a larger airport that will allow for more flexibility as this new group of people discover one of the hidden gems in the South.

Saying all of these things are great, however the trick is going to be sustaining this level of excitement and the hopes and wants for involvement as plans and optimism spread across the region. These things have been swimming in my head in recent weeks. I’ve now been here for one year and have begun to finally have to start answering the question “What made you move here?” and “What is going to keep you here?” While I have had the standard box answers, I’ve had to start thinking about what kept me from heading back up north and what’s kept me in the midst of this crazy love affair with the South. I hope that its because I want to do my part to make this the greatest city in the South and have it stop being a best kept secret, even if there is some dirty laundry that we must still deal with.

We must also not forget the fact that everyone should benefit from these changes as they ooze throughout Birmingham. We need to be able to activate those that have waited for this to happen and encourage them to be as active and vocal as ever as these changes begin to occur around them. We also need to be ready to embrace new people and welcome home those that have decided to return and do their part to light up the Magic City, helping them be as successful as they want to be and need to be.

My hope as this countdown to the new year approaches and people make plans to make those changes to help them be better people is to commit to making sure the right things are done to make the city the best it can be. Whether you’re here in Birmingham or elsewhere, I’m wondering what you’re thinking about in terms of your city as the New Year approaches. I’ll look forward to the responses…

Questions for the challenge... a day late (sorry)

Good morning everyone: I apologize for not posting my questions as promised yesterday. My trip to Washington, DC took more out of me than I thought. I'll explain why I'm here later on. As promised, here are the questions. These are based off of a posting that I made to the site on Friday:

• Did you actually go and pick up and pieces of trash?
• If so, where did you go? If not, why not?
• Did you find that there was no trash when you went to pick some up?
• Were you able to stop at just 8 pieces?
• How did you feel after you finished?
• Do you think that people should do this everyday or is it too much of a hassle?

Just wondering about the answers. One of the issues that I've noticed is that we spend a lot of time trying to create clean and safe environments for individuals to live and to do business. I've been wondering how we motivate people to do their fair share to keep the problems from expanding or continuing. I'm in DC for the week attending National Trust Main Street Training. It is the first step to becoming a certified Main Street professional. One of the benefits of attending the training is expanding the network of individuals that can help you solve problems. One other question I'll pose to them as well as to you is "Can a group ever be motivated or must it start from within?" "What will it take to get people motivated on an issue?" Let me know what you think. Enjoy the day...

A challenge for the weekend...

Happy Friday!

I wanted to challenge anyone reading the blog today that is not in Birmingham or unable to attend the clean up day effort in Ensley on November 5 (see yesterday’s entry for more information) to do something for me. I would like to challenge you to pick up eight (8) pieces of trash wherever you see it during your journey tomorrow. Then I’d like you to check back here tomorrow and answer a few questions for me.Though I doubt I may get a great deal of responses, I’m interested in seeing what happens for those that do take part in this experiment. I don’t claim to have invented this, but I am going to change the parameters a little on the answers. For those that are in town, I hope to see you tomorrow. If you can’t come out and help, have fun with whatever you’re doing. I’ll post the questions by tomorrow evening.

Let's get out there and do something... but what?

I figure since I posted a piece on civic engagement, I need to start using this blog as a way to let people know about opportunities to show how much they care about their issues. Of course, it also means that it’s going to slant more towards thing that are meaningful to me. Here’s what got me going on this tangent:

I attended a post election party on Tuesday after the runoff elections were over. Speakers focused on the need to become an active part of the political process and vote. They said that you can speak with your vote and that it is an important tool. I agree with that to a point. I think that while you may agree with one person’s views more than another, whoever is elected must still serve the people. The people in turn must also serve themselves, using their own hands and voices to make sure that everyone’s needs are heard and that their elected officials are aware that it is of great concern. I believe that this provides an even stronger tool for change and hope in any organization. We elect our officials to lead yet we should not always expect them to take the first step. Sometimes, we need to lead ourselves.

I have been working to organize a clean up day in a section of Birmingham, AL named Ensley as an activity associated with my job. Click here to view the information on the organizational website:

The focus of the effort is to prepare the area for the holidays by getting our hands dirty and beginning to show how we can change the perceptions and views of this region block by block. We’ll be starting at 8:30 a.m. and going until 11:30 a.m. There will be bags and gloves provided, however we’re encouraging people to bring their own equipment, including rakes, shovels and if you got one and are daring, even a trimmer or two.

For those interested in taking part, we’re meeting in the parking lot located at the intersection of 20^th Street Ensley and Avenue D. If you’re coming in on Interstate 20/59, take the 20^th Street Ensley exit and veer to the right. The parking lot will be on your right hand side just before you reach the overpass. If you want to let me know that you’re going to be there, send me an e-mail at anatta@mainstreetbham.org or post a comment; otherwise, I look forward to seeing some of you there on Saturday morning.

Have fun and stay tuned…

Do we care anymore?

An issue that has been on my mind in recent weeks is civic engagement. It is an extremely important factor regarding success in my job because without true participation from the public, success becomes difficult. I also feel that it is an important element in the health and vitality of a city. The real issue I’ve been thinking about is what people truly mean when they use the term. Voter turnout in the recent Birmingham City Council elections was quite dismal. The sense of voter apathy made me wonder if those that have concerns about the city’s current state really take advantage of their opportunity to speak with their vote. It is one of the most powerful tools in existence for providing support or rejecting current conditions in any democratic society.

There are even some concerns with respect to what people view as proper civic involvement. I currently serve on boards for two civic organizations in Birmingham; by chance they happen to be one of the oldest organizations in the city (Birmingham Jaycees) and one of the newest (Catalyst). Both of these organizations want to make our city and our region a better place. They do it in different ways. The perceptions of both of these organizations from the outside are very interesting as well.

The Birmingham Jaycees focus on leadership training through community service. Each project is supervised by a member of the organization. Through the management of the activity or program, it is hoped that the members will learn leadership skills that will allow them to be both marketable and involved in the community.

The Catalyst website lists an accurate description of the organization: a diverse group of civic minded individuals who collectively want to bring positive change to Birmingham. Catalyst carries out its mission through the hosting of events focused on specific topics. Events have been held at some of the more hip and happening places throughout our city center, making it “hip to be civic.” They may be onto something. The organization currently boasts more than 850 members. The recent Candidates Forum had more than 100 attendees and attendance by 9 of the 12 runoff candidates. Those that were not able to attend will soon be able to hear candidates’ statements online via podcast.

Is that the point though; to get big numbers? The Jaycees had membership numbers upward of 400 in the early 1980s; we are currently on pace to have around 30 members as we enter next year. The work that is done by the organization is extremely important and it does provide a vehicle for individuals to gain skills and connections.

One of my political heroes is Daniel Patrick Moynihan, the late great senator from New York. He wrote:

“The central conservative truth is that it is culture, not politics, that determines the success of a society. The central liberal truth is that politics can change a culture and save it from itself.” The central truths that Mr. Moynihan mentions are alive and well, however the lines are blurring tremendously with respect to who it applies to. There are few that perfectly fit into either of those camps anymore. It also makes you wonder if those labels still have a place in this society. Both of the previously mentioned organizations are driven to make their city and their region better. The question should not be “which one is doing it better?” but rather “Which one fits me better?” Or how about “Why can’t I be a part of both?”

There are many organizations that exist throughout the region that strive to make it a better place. While this duplicity of hopes and dreams may seem repetitive and insane, it may be just what is needed. If everyone fit into one group, it would be really boring. I hope that everyone can become engaged through whatever vehicle works for them, whether it’s discussing ways to solve major social issues and a plan of action over martinis at a local bar or helping a child round the bases at the Miracle League Field in Moody. We need to figure out what works and what won’t alienate them from taking part in their community in the first place.

Love to hear your thoughts…

Finding your rhythm

It’s one of the most comforting sounds you may hear, though you don’t realize its effects on your mindset until you’re away for some time. It’s one of those things that I look forward to with great anticipation upon my return to the Big Apple tomorrow evening. After driving for close to 14 hours by some estimates and dropping my bags off at the apartment on Fordham Hill I’m going to run down to the elevated station on Fordham Road for the number 4 train and wait. Wait for the music of New York.

Music seems to have this ability to transport people to anywhere they want to. It can bring together people from several different walks of life even if it is for different reasons. One of the most interesting things about music is where you look for it. Some people have to go to the large music festival and become part of the collective force, hanging on every note. Some can find it just as easily in the sounds made as a rail car passes over the tracks. In my case, that constant rhythmic sound is one that I miss about my hometown. It can easily lull me to sleep and remind that there are peaceful places in the world that do not require a backpack. This journey only takes me down Jerome Avenue and then through the spine of Manhattan. Instruments change as the car moves through the city; the sounds of cars blaring their sound systems in the Bronx changes to the multilingual conversations that exist as the train moves from 59^th Street to Grand Central Station. The rumble of the cars through tunnels allow for a different, more rugged approach to the songs. My song took me to lower Manhattan and led me to enjoy the music of the harbor as I hopped on the Staten Island Ferry. The breeze and the sounds of raindrops hitting the side of the boat were even more relaxing. The ability to escape to a place in your mind even with large crowds around you is a talent that few that need it possess. All you can hope is that they find access to it soon so that they do not get driven mad by the doldrums and pitfalls that seem to face us in these modern times as people allow stress and drama to rule their lives.

Sometimes you need to seek out some other forms of music as comfort. And music can definitely change as you venture away from home. I went to listen to a great jazz quartet called Mingussphere late this summer. This group had been playing at one of Birmingham’s great local art galleries, Bare Hands Gallery, throughout the hot months. Attendance for their shows grew, providing an oasis from our unbearably hot summer here in the Magic City. The gallery provided a great, smoke-free environment to enjoy some great interpretations of classics from Charles Mingus and Thelonius Monk. For this show my friend and I ended up sitting in the loft area of the space, giving us a bird’s eye view of the band and most of their audience. The audience was letting themselves travel to other places as the music filled the space, carrying away problems and concerns as it floated through the air.

The show I attended was the last for a while, as the members prepared to resume their regular musical lives, at least until the next time their efforts are needed. Hopefully in their stead, people may try to listen to the sound of the trains that pass close by. Or however they see fit to escape the drama and craziness that occurs in our cities daily.

Goals for the New Year (yeah, I know what I typed...)

I’m one of those crazy guys that feels that if  I’m going to have a time period thrust upon us to measure our age, that I should still be able to set some of the ground rules myself, including when to look back and take stock in what’s been going on and what’s coming down the pike. A couple of years ago I decided to start setting goals instead of resolutions and I chose to start doing it on my birthday every year instead of sharing the headache of doing so with a hangover on New Year’s Day watching whatever was actually decent on television that day.
I started setting my goals for the year around my birthday after having two sub par years of life the day after. During that timeframe, I had a falling out with a person that I still consider one of the best friends I’ve ever had and an ex-girlfriend that I thought was “the one.” Now, the interesting thing about these events were that they each occurred after celebrating two of the more enjoyable birthdays that I’d had up to that point. The letdown factor after the second year was enough to throw me into the “whoa is me” stage that those that know me recognize as not very productive or pleasant. I figured the only way to get out of it was to set realistic goals that were possible to achieve.
So now I sit down with a yellow pad of paper and spell out what goals I have for the next year of my life, using New Year’s as a check-in point for me. Let me not fail to mention the glass of scotch on the rocks that accompanies this process. They can’t be silly broad goals either; they’re only allowed if it is necessary. I only allow myself one of those types of goals every year.
This year’s process was delayed slightly because of Hurricane Katrina. Life has settled down enough now to take the process one step further this year: posting this list out here on the web for all to critique and in some cases pass judgment on. It should make it interesting though. This has become one of the more important things that I do every year.
This year that overall goal was really easy to come up with, “To do whatever I need to do to sensibly enjoy happiness in my life.” Life is not supposed to be perfect. My hope is that I can do my part to make it livable and enjoyable without being reckless.
So, what are this year’s goals? Here they are in no specific order:

• To return to my playing weight in time for the Savannah River Bridge Run in early December & to run my PR in both Savannah and Charleston


• To visit one new city each month


• Make the best effort to stay in contact with the people I care about


• Write one short story and attempt to get it published


• Be able to seriously look at purchasing a home by next September

We’ll check in around January to see how it’s going…
Another thing I’ve been thinking about as I’ve written this is how has it changed my luck for the day after my birthday? Let’s see…
Two years ago Bets and I started a 10-day road trip that took us through almost every state east of the Mississippi River. Last year I got a phone call from Birmingham telling me that I was being offered the job that I now have. This year the best part was before when I got a chance to hang out and have people over to the loft that I never thought I’d have a chance to live in.
I think it’s definitely changed my perspective on life, letting me seize the moment rather than wait for the moment to happen to me. Strange question to ask, but how easy has it been to make changes in your lives for the better? Have they actually been good for you if you’ve attempted them?

Katrina's opened some eyes, but for how long?

It’s been two weeks since our nation’s latest tragedy unfolded before our eyes with images and stories abound on the Internet and television. This one was much more devastating for our psyche since it also raised the specters of problems that most of the country felt had been solved by the sweeping signature of President Johnson several decades before and made us question whether or not our country is prepared to handle national disasters. Katrina decided to suck out a window pane from my second story loft and take away my electricity for two days, frying the air conditioner in the process. There are many people that would have hoped that what Bets and I went through was the worst of their problems. I cannot blame any one government entity for the catastrophe that resulted; there was some form of failure at every level. We should not be concerned with finger pointing until we’ve dealt with aiding those that have lost their worldly possessions and need help restoring some level of stability to their lives. Government creates laws to be followed. This is not to say that many will choose to follow them. One would hope that it would not take a law to have people treat their fellow man with dignity and respect. You would have also hoped that it would not have taken a hurricane making landfall as a category 4 to shine a light on the two poorest congressional districts in the United States and problems that many in this country like to pretend do not exist. I have always been amazed at our country’s ability to rise up and meet a challenge, however devastating the causes of it may be. I hope our country is ready to rise up and maintain a sustained attack on the biggest war has affected our shores for longer than any other: the war on poverty. There have been many soldiers in this battle, some of whom we’ve lost along the way before it was their time. There is a need to remember the charge being led by Dr. King; there is a need to focus on providing legitimate long term solutions that allow for the hole of poverty to be climbed out of. The biggest concern that exists right now this is that we are dealing with the short term problem (Katrina evacuees) now so long as the cameras are focused on the devastation. I hope that we do not neglect the problems that already existed in our towns and cities before Katrina. Let us not forget the soup kitchens, homeless shelters and existing programs set up to help people at this time. If charitable organizations say that they have received enough for their needs, check around the corner and make sure that the needs of the local organizations are being met. Take some time out and help area children if you can. Let us not waste this chance to put the country’s best foot forward. Our fellow citizens affected by the storm have lost a great deal, however they have given America a great gift; a chance to rectify the situation for many. Let us hope that this opportunity is seized and not wasted.

How's the family?

Family is a great thing. Some people are lucky enough to live relatively close to theirs. Sometimes due to distance, your friends become family. Your family lets you get away with things that many would not. Something that you can be lulled into is the idea that because you think that you’ve immediately made new friends that are really just acquaintances, you can fall into old patterns that your friends have grown accustomed to dealing with.

Your extended family let you go off about something knowing that somehow if you end up going off the map that you’ll find your way back. Acquaintances don’t seem to allow those strays to be overlooked. Your family has grown accustomed to your habits and look at them as quirks. Your acquaintances look at them as problems that must be dealt with in order to be accepted.

I’ve found myself making many friends in my short time in Birmingham (at least, I think so), though it still feels as though I have many acquaintances that have found their way into my life as well.. It’s difficult trying to blend in to a very different society. There are a lot of people that say that going to Savannah was a case of going into a completely different environment compared to New York. Looking back, I can say that moving their under the pretense of attending college made the change in surroundings almost non-existent.

My experiences growing up in the Bronx, while urban, were still different than if all of my life experiences were in Manhattan. Ending up at a college where there were students from all 50 states and more than 80 countries even in the Old South, made that change easier to make than what are normally expected. The melting pot that was and is SCAD made me aware of things that I had not been exposed to at home. It made me appreciate what I had experienced as well, knowing what I brought to the game of survival at college. Some are the ones that get that e-mail or phone call whenever I need some assistance on dealing with those life issues when I want someone that knows me and that favor is always returned. There are some while not achieving what they hoped in terms of graduating or completing college due to leaving this life that taught me several valuable lessons that I am forever grateful for.

I also had an extended family back in New York that went beyond the nuclear. The Lwanga Scholars had gotten me ready to be accepting and realistic about how I would be accepted in society. I recently got a chance to see how several of them were doing after several years. This group taught me more about self-determination and striving for success than many of the other things that I have been involved with over the years. I was reminded that there are some fundamental differences between how my family from the program thinks and some of my acquaintances have thought over the years. The more that I’ve been thinking about it in recent weeks, the more I realize that most of my friends think similarly to the Scholars.

One thing stressed in the program was to be sure that you were proud of your heritage. I tend to make a point to say that I am a Caribbean-American first and foremost. There is a lot made nowadays with regards to holding onto your heritage and making sure that it survives. In this age of political correctness and constant labeling of groups, while I believe that there is more that makes us similar than different, this label allows me to celebrate things that I can never take for granted. It also gives me the opportunity to look at things a bit more objectively than I probably need to whenever it comes to what I’ve tried to accomplish so far.

This Saturday my girlfriend has decided that the best way to mark my turning 30 on the 29 was to invite some of the people that I have grown to consider family (living close enough to make it feasible) to come over and celebrate with me. I just look forward to hoisting a Guinness and enjoying my time with them, and looking at ways to make sure that I don’t let them down as I move forward in my journey through life.

Exploring the Big Apple and how to get there…

I’ve been incommunicado for most of the last two weeks as I’ve been out traveling the country. At least I’ve been traveling portions of the country east of the Mississippi. I decided that I needed to go home to New York. The Lwanga Scholars were having a reunion and that gave me an excuse.

I hate flying. Now, after being in the car for 15-16 hours, there are times that I can say that I don’t like driving either. That feeling doesn’t normally last too long though. Driving gives you the opportunity to take in some sights that you would otherwise would be skimming over. While I’m not a big fan of having to drive around town like crazy for my job, if I have to get from point A to point B for a long trip, I’d rather be behind the wheel of a car. OK, maybe sitting on a train would work too.

Some of the views traveling along the highway are quite breathtaking. There are rolling hills with, in this case, cows seeking shade from the excessively hot sun. I will say that it was weird to be up north and know it was hotter there than it was in Alabama. There were these gorgeous old farm properties with large wood frame homes looking out onto acres and acres of crops getting ready for harvest.

A detour thanks to some blasting along I-81 led me to finally stop in Lexington, Virginia. The town was starting to buzz with the sounds of students beginning or returning to the world of college life. Nice small quaint shops with a “traditional” feel to them. It also reminded me of why I enjoy doing the kind of work that I do. While I was taking an extended break from the road, I picked the brain of a guy who runs a photo gallery. The business was participating in a promotion aimed at getting people to shop downtown instead of the mall by having entertainment and extended hours. You were welcomed into the participating stores with balloons announcing their wanting you to come inside. Some of them sat across the street from the old downtown theater, one that still shows first run films.

There were some large cities along the route, each trying to display why it was important to live and work there. That was all fine and well, but some of the more interesting things out there were the various year-round haunted houses, historic markers and some breathtaking views. It’s better to kiss the ground as you move among it than it is to survey it from above as though you are its conqueror. There are times where I feel as though you miss the story when you’re in the skies. That’s probably that reporter in me trying to come out.

While in New York I was much more adventurous that I had been in a while. I can now say that I have ridden on the Staten Island Ferry and actually been to Staten Island (more on that later this week). On the boat I was asked some questions by a little boy looking out over New York Harbor as the wind hit us in our faces. His mother walked up and said that he always talks to people no matter where they go; he’ll just strike up a conversation. I told her that it’s a great gift and to just enjoy it. He’ll have a lot of fun because of it. I watched as he saw the Statue of Liberty at night as close as you can get without going to the island. I took a picture of Lady Liberty as it was passed by a ferry boat. I hope it comes out the way I hoped it would.

I have this habit of wanting to do and see it all. I’ve also come to realize that I had to do my own back door before I tried to do anywhere else. There are some overseas trips coming up for me in the coming months, but I still want to become a little more familiar with the U.S. Hopefully I’m not too crazy. I also own this “old fashioned” camera and I love to try and capture moments, though there are some that simply need to exist in the depths of your mind. We’ll see if we can get some images posted up here soon. I’ll have some more on this trip in the coming days, so stay tuned…

Trust is earned, and he earned ours...

There are two people that have influenced the way that I view the world and major national events that have taken place in my life so far. One is currently enjoying retirement, though still working at an insane pace for someone who was looking for a more relaxed approach to life. The other seems to have been taken away too soon. Tom Brokaw and Peter Jennings both heavily shaped how I viewed the world, almost as much as my father buying at one point the New York Times, Daily News and New York Newsday papers every Sunday and both of my parents encouraging us to not just read the comics (though it’s still the best part!), but as much as our young brains could comprehend. While attempting to understand the paper was interesting, thinking back to watching these larger than life figures as they brought the world into my living room serves as a reason to still be curious about seeing the world with all its faults and glorys more than anything else. As I’ve listened to the tributes for Mr. Jennings today on both television and internet, it became easy to remember when each person’s influence took shape. It’s verification of what has been said on air about the differences between the Big 3 news anchors. I turned to Dan Rather when I sought folksy takes on the presidential election night coverages that I’ve lived through so far. I became a much bigger fan of Mr. Brokaw’s while living in Savannah, where I sought to become more familiar with this country of my birth and my mind wanted to travel the “blue highways” talked about by William Least Heat-Moon in his book of the same name. He provided the ability to do so while keeping up with the news of the day and learning about the country’s “greatest generation,” those that allowed my family to be able to be here seeking their out dreams, at the same time. Mr. Jennings was different. I gravitated to Mr. Jennings when I wanted to know what the opinion may be in New York or other larger cities. When I wanted to hear a measured, deliberate opinion, I turned to him. It stands to reason that I watched him most of the time growing up in New York and again as I began to settle into life in Birmingham. He spoke with an eloquence that never seemed to make us, his viewers, feel inferior. He spoke with a passion so strong that you knew he lived for the stories he was bringing to our awareness and that there was a genuine interest in getting it as fair and balanced as he could. He never stopped learning and was open to new ideas, and passed those lessons onto those that were interested. The advent of 24 hour news channels and the internet has clouded the image of what our journalists are supposed to be. Adding the expanded world of tabloid and gossip news in the name of journalism muddies the water even more. Their job is still to try to get it right. I was told recently that no one ever does get it right, so stop trying. Mr. Jennings was proof that getting it as right as he could was still important. With all of the sensationalism that exists in the modern day newsroom, it appeared that it was not necessarily the case at 6 p.m. ET on ABC stations. On September 11, I watched Mr. Jennings tell me what was going on in my hometown. I watched him as they processed Princess Diana through the streets early in the morning stateside. I watched him attempt to guide the country through Y2K. I trusted him. I can only hope to be trusted by the people I serve in my job and in everything else that I do even half as much as he was. I must admit that I have returned to NBC and to Brian Williams to be my eyes and ears to the world in these recent months. He’s earned my attention; he’s likely to earn my trust as well, in part due to the respect that he has for the men that have made this dream job of his possible. It’s a job that I had aspirations of attempting in my youth, wanting to explore the world and one that I guess I get to do now as an amateur through this; sharing my opinion while hoping to get the facts right so that others can provide their own opinion. Maybe I’ll earn that trust someday too. Mr. Jennings earned it, and he “…will never come again.” America should be sad because of it.

My kind of town? I'm not sure yet.

Saturday morning I participated in the 2^nd annual Shake and Bake 5K out in Mt. Laurel. This is the second real race that I’ve run since starting rehab work on my right knee in hopes of avoiding the knife. The time was somewhat respectable considering I still have not really gotten back into serious training (36.58.9) and that I figured that finishing with no pain was more important than finishing and being carried off via someone else’s power.

Now, Mt. Laurel is one of the New Urbanist developments that have been sprouting up across much of the country over the past 25-30 years. Andres Duany, considered by many to be the father of New Urbanism, developed Mt. Laurel’s master plan a few years ago, with plans well underway to complete phase II of the development in the near future. The site is about a 20-minute drive from downtown Birmingham with no traffic on U.S. Hwy 280. Green and khaki signs point you towards this enclave that is nestled among farmland and other new subdivision projects in various states of progress. The signs can lead you through a more scenic, winding path or a straight shot to the state road that runs in front of the entrance.

Once inside its low sitting stone walls, it feels as if you’ve been transported to the set of the Truman Show, only it’s been made to resemble what the ideal community in Birmingham could have looked like long ago. The homes being built here are of the highest quality and can cost you anywhere from $200,000 to $400,000. Streets are tree lined and there’s even one of those ideal downtown areas with the local hardware store, soda fountain shop and excellent restaurant. There is a Montessori school, traditional elementary school and an Episcopal church. There are brick pavers covering most of the sidewalks and the site includes a nursery where plants are grown for the landscaping of the “town.” Recreational amenities are abundant in the form of playgrounds and a swimming pool. Planning wise, this is an ideal community coming to life.

Here’s what I don’t get: people move out here to this community, buy their new old house out in this ideal town layout, get into their cars and drive 30-50 minutes due to traffic congestion to their jobs in the big city, get in their cars again at the end of the day to come home while stopping at the big boxes for their needs and the grocery stores for pre-prepared meals and then pull into their garages and roll up the sidewalks in their ideal world to surf the Internet and take part in a virtual community while ignoring the beauty surrounding them. This effective takes away from the walkability factor that many of these communities are based upon.

During the race today, there were several residents out walking and showing support for the runners. I especially like the little boy that had decided to write “Go Daddy!” in red chalk on the sidewalk this morning while his mother watched on. I must say that these were the most residents that I have ever seen walking the streets of Mt. Laurel at any time of day. The other freaky moment came as I walked over after the race to check out the farmer’s market taking place in the town square section. I suddenly realized that there was a dog following me on my right side. I turned and looked down to see what it looked like and the owner was immediately apologetic for the dog just trying to come up and say hello. I saw her later as I went to the car to grab some Gatorade after the race and she made a point of saying that she was keeping her dog away. It kind of made me wonder just how community driven the neighborhood could be at times.

I am definitely not the first person to ever write about the success or failure of this “new” type of housing development. And I’m definitely not going to knock the virtual community that exists today because it allows for people who would have otherwise lost contact to keep in touch. It just struck me today while I was attempting to catch my breath while checking out the homes throughout the property that some people seek to find the perfection in the good old days and are paying a premium for it and then not taking advantage of it. Homes of similar size are available in beautiful sections of the city of Birmingham for much less than their Mt. Laurel counterparts, with the price still being cheaper after paying for renovation costs. The basis of these ideal downtowns still exists if only in building form throughout the region. The need to design new developments in the traditional style is a noble cause indeed, but why can’t we reuse what we’ve already got first?

What's in your city?

I was talking with my friend Curtis Palmer about one of the more recent posts on his blog, and it made me think about viewing the city in a different way. That’s pretty much the result of all conversations with Curtis; I leave wondering just how much stuff there is out there to learn. Anyway… he talked about the fact that the longer that you live somewhere, the more “invisible” it becomes. The idea is that you become so accustomed to most of the scenery that you stop paying attention to the little details and sometimes can miss some special things taking place around you.

I want to challenge the readers of this post to add comments letting me know what stands out to you as the most important landmark in your area. I’m looking for all kinds of answers. It could be the most logical object or building that you see as you come into town or the one place that you will only find if the locals determine you worthy enough to learn of its existence. I have a few answers myself. I plan on spacing them out over several posts throughout the next month. Maybe it will force you to pay some more attention to those around you and notice life.

While not instantly apparent as you enter the city, the statue of Vulcan that overlooks downtown definitely stands out in my mind as an important piece of the skyline of the Magic City. Another friend of mine suggested going up to the observation deck and enjoying the view of the region. It’s become one of my thinking places that sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t for clearing my head. On clear days you have impressive views of the city center, the steel plants that are still active, the airport, and much of the surrounding metropolitan area. The entire park underwent an extensive renovation more than one year ago and the results are impressive. The statue was built for a World’s Fair and remains world’s the largest cast iron statue. The god of fire and craftsmanship was chosen to symbolize the city due to its production of steel. Birmingham is the only place in the world where all of the ingredients needed to produce steel are found naturally.

Bets and I ended up choosing our loft in part due to the view of Vulcan that we have out the window. Especially during the winter months, the view of the statue lit up for the better part of the evening is a pretty nice view. The few visitors that I have had come to town in the past year have been taken to Vulcan Park as it’s the only way to really enjoy a view of the city and get a taste of why Birmingham even came into existence.

So, the ball’s in your court. Let me know what your place is.

Where have you gone Joe D? Ryno wants to join you...

I consider Ryne Sandberg to be one of the greatest men ever to play the game of baseball. This belief has been proven true in my eyes by his actions time and time again: when he decided to simply walk away from the game that he enjoyed and from some of the most dedicated fans in baseball; when he turned down receiving one penny more of salary after retiring from the Cubs because he felt he hadn’t earned it; whenever he hit a home run and just ran the bases like he had a few hundred times before and not show boat and grandstand. There was, is, a class that very few men who play this child’s game possess displayed by “Ryno”.

I found that he did one more thing this past Sunday as he was given one of baseball’s highest honors to solidify his place as one of the classier men to ever be allowed to play in Wrigley Field; in that classic, throwback style that he has, Sandberg used his “last big game…last at-bat…” to remind people that respect and teamwork should and does still matter in this day and age.

Baseball has always been considered by its most fanatical followers as a reflection of the good and bad that exists in our American society. For years, there was an “innocence” about the game that people now long for. The game was not perfect then; Jackie Robinson endured a tremendous struggle to break the color line; Latin players faced their own injustices as they entered the adult play world of America’s pastime. The game did epitomize what the American dream was supposed to be about; working your way up through uncertain obstacles to achieve a place on one of the largest stages in the world. You shared that stage with your teammates. You almost never heard of everyday players showing up the manager. Or not running out a squiggler to the mound in hopes that someone will bobble it. There was always respect shown for fellow players and the organization. In a modern world where the top rated shows are more about standing out and emphasizing the individual than the group, baseball reflects a society in need of hogging the spotlight. Ball players probably have to learn as many specialized hand shakes for after their Ruthian home runs as they do signals for running in the base paths. Americans are more concerned about the name and age of the car in the driveway than about the quality of education in our schools or the real level of our values at this day and age.

Many players in all sports are concerned about not wanting to be role models in this SportsCenter-highlight, lightning fast information age. They’re more concerned about how they look on television that day. They can’t drop down the bunt and give up two points on their batting average just to provide a better chance to win as Sandberg and players of his caliber could and did do. Play nowadays becomes selfish rather than selfless. The respect for the game has been replaced by the need to show someone up and have the last word.

It has become uncommon to have something happen similar to the events surrounding former Sandberg teammate Greg Maddux’s 3,000^th strikeout. Maddux struck out a potential future Hall of Famer, current Giants shortstop Omar Vizquel, looking. The ballpark went crazy as flashbulbs went off to capture the moment. Maddux did not pump his fist. He didn’t glare down the batter. He simply walked off the mound and headed the dugout as he always did. He’d done it before, he planned to do it again soon and he’d done his job.

There are people who think that those who respect the game or respect their beliefs or jobs are grandstanders in their own right. The need to do it the right way has been equated with being weak. Maybe it will one day be equated with being the classier individual as it once was.

Let me know what you think.

“Rounding third and heading for home…”

I just came in from running my first ever Homewood Twilight Retro 5K. It’s been a while since I’ve actually run a race. I’ve been spending more time in the doctor’s office than out on the streets logging miles recently.

I would say that I’ve become addicted to running. My first ever race was the Cooper River Bridge Run in Charleston, South Carolina in 2002. I had a pretty decent time then considering it was my first real race (1:12). Ironically, my last real race before all of this rehab work began was the same race this year. Unlike my first experience, this one should have warned me that there were tough times ahead physically.

You could say that I started running to get the attention of a girl. In this case, it was the girl that I had already been dating for six years. I wanted to see if we could actually spend more time together since she’d decided that she wanted to look better and do something worthwhile, resulting in her running all the time and me not seeing her often as a result. I quickly realized that it was not helpful for having more quality time. Our ability to communicate was never quite there anyway, so looking back now any hopes of talking more through running with her wasn’t really realistic. I also started in part to get back in shape because I was starting to notice this extra weight showing up. I did find that it helped me get my frustrations out and helped clear my mind. That belly also started to disappear. So I’ve still kept up with it until now. The latest challenge is getting used to hills after training on flat land for so long along the coast.

Back to the race… In true retro style, I decided to run in an afro and a tie-dye shirt. I will say that when I got there I was a little concerned that I may have gone a little overboard with my costume. That was luckily proven to not be true. I’m hoping to post some shots of some of the more interesting costumes around mid-week.

My friend Sharron decided to run in a really cool looking polyester shirt, a sparkling silver hat and some pretty interesting Keds. Bets decided that she had to catch both of these sights on film and decided to make the trek to Homewood with me. It should be really easy to tell which one I am (I hope). For some reason, Bets couldn’t keep from laughing at me; I really don’t know why.

The race was a test of my knee as well. I’ve been dealing with some rehab issues. My good right knee doesn’t want to make it easy for me to run any more. The heat alone did Sharron and I in; our times reflect that. I’m figuring my newfound head of hair didn’t help much either. The knee did surprisingly well though. We did finish the race though, and we had a lot of fun doing it. Afterwards, Bets had more fun watching us attempt to do the Macarena and other dances. Part of it goes back to that taking the leap idea again. Still working on taking some other chances; I still have some time.

I’ve now spent most of the evening sipping on some iced tea enjoying the feeling from the ice rub that I have to put on after every race. Pain and all, I’m already looking at the calendar for the next one. FYI – I’m a huge baseball fan, so I end up finding ways to try to work it into a story, even if it’s only the title. This is one of the more famous lines in the game and it is placed in an area of prominence on Great American Ballpark in Cincinnati, Ohio, home of the Reds. It’s the sign off used by their long time radio voice and Hamilton, Ohio native Joe Nuxhall, who retired from full-time announcing duties at the end of last season after spending sixty years in the Reds organization in two memorable roles; 38 as a Hall of Fame announcer and the rest as the “Ol’ Left-hander,” the youngest person ever to pitch a MLB game (15 years).

Taking the leap

I learned a great many lessons of life while working as a front desk clerk at the Eliza Thompson House while I was taking a break from and finishing up my college career. The owner of the inn at the time was a woman named Carol Day. Her husband, Steve, had taken early retirement from Caterpillar after a career that literally took him all over the world. The inn was an opportunity for her to do something that she had always wanted to do.

The building was beautiful. It’s the oldest building standing on Jones Street in Savannah’s historic district. The walk to work every day consisted of enjoying a brick paved street draped in live oak trees covered in Spanish moss. Paints a pretty cool picture, unless it’s Halloween (lol). The inn has been under different ownership since 2001, so the best way to run into the Days is to keep an eye out for their general contracting sign on some of the current renovation projects around Savannah. Anyway, one of the cool things about working at an inn was the chance you got to connect with people, especially during our wine and cheese reception. Mrs. Day encouraged the staff to talk with the guests and to answer any questions that the guests may have. We all got to meet some pretty amazing people over the years, some famous, some not, all incredible and all making that front parlor more of a classroom than many people realized.

One of the questions that people enjoyed asking was why she chose to purchase and run a bed and breakfast. Contained within that answer is a statement that, whenever I’m awake enough to remember, has encouraged me to do some pretty interesting things. I’ll never do it justice so I’ll paraphrase as best I can: Sometimes taking a chance looks and feels like you’re about to jump off a cliff. You need to take that “leap” in order to realize that the cliff is actually a simple, shallow step. She decided that she wanted to have her own business and wanted to live somewhere else other than Illinois. Once she realized that the leap was a small hop down a step, she enjoyed herself.

The idea behind the statement is quite simple: take the chance. If you take the chance and fail, at least you’ve tried. The best example I can share in this space is that I have a terrible fear of speaking in front of groups, mainly because I’ve had a stuttering problem from childhood. I’ve gotten better about doing it as time has gone on. This could be due to the fact that my job partially depends on it. You need to be able to get over any or at least put away any fears or stereotypes as much as possible in order to be productive. It is also because I realized that if I didn’t start dealing with just getting up there and talking I’d never be able to do half of the things I wanted to. There are still times when I hold in what I really think and feel. In those cases I’m not scared anymore, I’m just using my best judgment to keep a bad situation from getting out of hand or from ruining a good thing by saying something stupid. I am more willing to take the chance and seeing where it takes me most times though.

Seems to me that a lot of people are nervous or have some reservations about taking that first jump, not realizing that many times it’s really just taking a baby step towards your ultimate goal.

Posting questions for answers seems like it could be fun. Tonight’s question: What’s the last time that you just took the chance and decided to see what would happen? I’d be interested in finding out what about it was fun, what wasn’t, etc. Let me know. Have fun.

What do you want to know?

I promised a “more info about me” post. I’ve never been really good about talking about myself seriously, thus this somewhat abnormal post. Here are some of the facts, in no particular order:

I’m 29 years old

Grew up in University Heights section of the Bronx (that’s in New York :) It's called University Heights due to New York University's presence in the community during the early part of the 20th century. At that time they maintained a campus in the neighborhood. The campus still stands as part of Bronx Community College.

Actually born in East Orange, NJ (supposedly because it was cheaper, despite the fact that both parents are nurses. Go figure.)

They’re from Trinidad & Tobago, making my brother and I first generation Americans.

He’s two years younger than I am. And yes, he is single.

Attended St. Nicholas of Tolentine Elementary School and Mt. St. Michael Academy for those “formative” years in the big city

Also attended art classes at Cooper Union and St. John’s University

I am a graduate of the Lwanga Scholars program. This program was supported by the Archdiocese of New York and provided leadership training for African American and Latin American students throughout the city. A lot of the things I learned there I use every day.

Diehard Yankees fan (Reggie Jackson and Don Mattingly rule!)

I’m a fan of the game of baseball as well. While in college, unfortunately for just one year, I got to play the one game that I enjoy more than anything else in the world. I loved every second of it.

Attended the Savannah College of Art and Design in Savannah, GA. Earned a B.F.A. in architectural history with a minor in architecture. Ended up living there for 11 years. Some of the weirdest yet enjoyable so far in this short story.

Favorite color is blue. Or is it green?

I’ve become as avid a runner as my knees allow me to be. Good idea for a post.

Currently employed by Main Street Birmingham as their Main Street Coordinator. This means that I get to coordinate activities in those nine target districts located throughout Birmingham, AL that you’ll see listed if you click on the link in the previous sentence :)

Some of those other jobs have included freelance reporter, general manager for a historic inn along the Savannah waterfront, b&b desk clerk and administrative assistant for downtown revitalization office in Savannah.

I own two cats. Or should I say that two cats, Boomer and Ed, grant me the privilege of taking care of most of their needs.

They also grant my girlfriend, Betsy, that same privilege... when they feel like it.

Every once in a while I still attempt to play the guitar. Would help if I got the classical repaired. The twelve-string is testing the strength in my left hand.

I am a board member for Ruffner Mountain Nature Center. Check out the site.

I also serve as the Community Development VP for the Birmingham Jaycees.

Oh yeah, I also serve on the steering committee for Catalyst Birmingham. I have this problem saying NO to things sometimes.

One of the best things I don’t do that often anymore is to just get in the car and drive. Hoping to do some more now that I’ve supposedly settled into life in Birmingham. You never know what you’re going to find out there.

I love to write. That’s one of the reasons I decided to finally do a blog.

I don’t have a lot of regrets in life. I’ve had some crazy events happen so far, but there are few things that I really regret not having done.

If anyone out there knows of some interesting facts that I’ve forgotten, let me know. Or maybe you may want to let me know some more things about you. Looking forward to the doors opening. I’ll catch you on the other side.

"I'm Singing in the Rain..."

Rain has always been one of those weirder natural occurrences to me. As with most things in nature, it can either sustain us or lead to destruction. I've always viewed the destruction as providing a great opportunity for a new start, a washing away of the past and the problems associated with it allowing for a new beginning. Yesterday I was able to stand in one of the those enjoyable rainstorms. I really hadn't had the chance to do that since my first visit to Savannah nearly 13 years ago. That evening the rain continued for most of the night becoming quite heavy at times. I walked with my then new friends (none of us with umbrellas) back from the riverfront along the Savannah River, up the 250 year old cobblestone stairway near Barnard Street to the bluff of the historic district. We then decided to walk barefoot through the streets of Savannah on a Saturday night, more or less snaking our way through downtown, arriving back at the residence hall where we were to spend the next five weeks of our lives soaking wet but already with an appreciation of the city that we were being given the chance to treat as our home away from home. Once we'd given in to the fact that we were going to be soaked, it became much easier to enjoy being lost in a new town and enjoy the buildings, the trees and the squares. Wednesday's storm was not as monumental in my mind; at least I doubt it will ever be as long as that night in Savannah still immediately returns to my awareness anytime I see a downpour occur. Instead of enjoying the rainfall, I was scurrying to find the keys to my car so that I could drop off some film at a one hour photo place and get back to work. This is of course after enjoying the Rickwood Classic at Rickwood Field for the most of the early afternoon. I finally decided to enjoy the moment and slow down for a bit. I enjoyed watching the suds come out of the downspouts as I walked along the alley to get to my car in its secured parking lot. Once inside the car, I watched the drops hit the windshield, giving me a chance to enjoy the music of nature and the sounds of the city. It's something that I don't do as often as I need to. My hope with this blog is to hopefully make myself more aware of those moments that I don't take a chance to enjoy and maybe share a few with all of you. I think you'll enjoy the ride and I'm looking forward to seeing where this leads. For those that stumble across this blog, later this week I'll do the somewhat necessary introduction of myself. I'll see you on the other side.