“Down the aisle is Welch’s 100% Grape Juice, with no fat and emblazoned with a red-heart certification from the American Heart Association. An eight-ounce glass has 36 grams of sugar; a regular-sized Snickers, by comparison, has 30.”—
Note from Ron: I love that the NY Times leaves out that there is no sugar added to Welch’s Grape Juice (stated as clearly as the AHA certification) and that Grapes have an extremely high level of sugar in them naturally. An 8oz glass of Welch’s Grape Juice contains around 40 or more grapes. They do go on and say “No one is saying that these products are unsafe or unhealthy” but it does not matter. The stain is left on the readers brain. Let’s pray they don’t look into how much sugar is in an orange. I’m sure it would also take a little journalism to explain the difference in sucrose and fructose sugars as well.
“If someone suggested the idea of public libraries now, they’d be considered insane. If you said you were going to take a little bit of money from every taxpayer, buy a whole load of books and music and games, stick them on a shelf and tell everyone, ‘These are yours to borrow and all you’ve got to do is bring them back,’ they’d be laughed out of government.”—Peter Collins, The Secret Life of Libraries (via jingc)
On May 21st, I’m going to be participating in “Coast the Coast,” a charity bike ride to benefit the National Multiple Sclerosis Society. I’ll be riding with a team from members of my hometown, The Park Pedalers, and if memory serves, this will be my 12th consecutive year riding in the event. And it is now dawning on me that that is more than half of my life, which just makes me feel old.
This is a cause that hits particularly close to home for me. Watching a family member struggle with and adapt to the symptoms of MS is never easy. Funds earned by the ride go towards research for finding a cure, as well as towards providing care for those already afflicted.
Anyhow, I don’t really know most of the people who read this braindump Tumblr of mine, but I figured that since ~400 of you are still following me on here (for reasons unknown even to you, I’m sure), I wanted to invite you to contribute. There’s no minimum donation, and it would really mean a lot to me. You could donate 500 dollars, you could donate 5 pennies; anything is appreciated. If you have a wad of cash burning a hole in your pocket, this is definitely a good thing to use it on. The link to contribute is right here.
So, to recap:
Doing something exhausting for charity
Donations are greatly appreciate
Additionally, there is a little box on that donation page where you can opt to have your name displayed as a donor. I just want to preemptively say: I appreciate your contribution, Dr. Fartenstein McButtpants.
My music teacher back in grade school, Mrs. Strecker, had MS, and she passed away a number of years ago. We were often badly behaved students — granted, we were pre-teen kids who didn’t really know any better, but still — and I’ll always regret our collective assholery (whether to her face in class, or behind her back).
My colleague and friend Leigh Alexander wrote this wonderful, inspiring piece on Thought Catalog:
Let go of that process of trying to be ‘normal’ and you might just fall off the face of the Earth; first your feet won’t be touching the ground and then everything will start to look really far away and impossible to touch and then before you know it you’ll be lifting off soundlessly into the atmosphere, your mouth open but breathing no air.
But normal is an impossible, undefined ideal. While it feels decadent, possibly destructive, to only worry about being happy with yourself or at least happy with the ways you are unhappy, you can’t exactly go around comparing yourself to all the people who have no better idea of the holy-normal than you do.
I don’t get the pride with which some people say “I don’t like [insert popular tv show/band/movie here]!” When someone puts this out in the internet I imagine them sitting at their computer, raising their fist in the air as they click the button that sends their opinion out to the world. Then they sit back and wait for the backlash, smugly appraising every reaction while seeing themselves as a rebel, a renegade, someone to be reckoned with.
When I say I don’t like something or don’t get the appeal of something - be it The Office or Will Ferrel or Lady GaGa or deep dish pizza - I’m questioning myself. I’m wondering why I don’t like or get what everyone else sees as something of quality. I don’t feel smug about not enjoying The Office. I feel like I’m missing out on something. Take Modern Family, for instance. I watched the first few episodes of the first season and liked it enough to buy the whole season. The farther into it I got, the more I hated it. Every character grated on my nerves. But then I’d see people talk about it, how it’s one of the best written shows on television with such a great cast and it makes me wonder about my taste, my cynicism, my ability to get nuanced humor.
It’s the same with comedians or fast food joints or musicians. I really enjoy reading what everyone has to say about the things I don’t like or get because it makes me understand at least why you enjoy it and helps me to try to find things about it to like or appreciate, or at least appreciate the reasons why you enjoy it. Which is why I don’t get when a bunch of people are talking/posting/tweeting about their great enjoyment of a particular thing and someone just has to chime in with “I don’t like that thing” in a triumphant sort of way. They don’t explain, they don’t say why they don’t like it, they don’t add anything to the conversation except an air of smug negativity.
Just one of those little things that irk me.
Less smug negativity, more conversation.
Absolutely. Go hate stuff in private, contrarians, because I don’t want to hear about it.
If you're smart, you'll stay in school — it really does pay off!
Last night, I went back to Hofstra (after graduating in December) for the induction ceremony for Phi Alpha Theta, a national honor society for history students. I figured I was just going to get a certificate, and that’d be that.
I did, indeed, get a nice certificate. But what I didn’t know was that I would also be receiving an award from the History Department: the Robert L. Payton Endowed Prize for Best Seminar Paper.
I was further unaware that the prize consisted of a check for $1,000. That’s pretty well endowed, all right.