Brief notes on writing and an American epidemic

A few notes:

-My posts will be fewer and further between because I am a very busy man. I'm taking 6 classes, working 30 hours a week, attempting to put together a portfolio of writing for grad school aps, and reading "Ulysses" which is a total bitch of a book. All this said, I am still going to attempt to write two posts a week. I'm formulating one based around the election- basically, I'm an Obama man myself, and to celebrate his victories last week, and in preview of the upcoming primary in Wisconsin, I wanted to write about the wonderful road trip possibilities of Maryland, Virginia, Washington D.C., and Wisconsin. I've spent a lot of time driving through all these places (family in Wisconsin, a best friend in Baltimore, and an ex-girlfriend in Virginia will do that to you), and they all offer up some fantastic opportunities for a long weekend drive.

-I want to respond briefly to two of Andrew's posts. I, too, want to drive through Montana. I'm not sure what the appeal is, but the words "big sky country" conjure in me images of vast, windblown plains beneath a lustrous, clear afternoon sky filled with languid cumulous clouds drifting past. It's a place that, to me, embodies the spirit of a road trip: nothing but open road in both directions, no one but you and your car and some good tunes. You roll your windows down, let in the sweet smelling, mild great plains air, and just cruise until you can't cruise anymore. So as you can see, my desire to drive through Montana is more cliche than Andrew's- I'm not one who drives for the sake of accomplishment, I drive for those token moments of American transcendence that have made "road travelogues" such an emblematic part of our culture.

The second post of Andrew's I'll address is the one about The College of New Jersey, also affectionately called the NGay. Yes, Andrew and I do have some mighty fond memories of our trips to the NGay. My experience at TCNJ can be summed up by a hungover me jolting awake in horror at around 8:30 am, fully clothed and sitting upright, a dull headache pulsing in my temples, wondering where in the fuck I am and how in the fuck I got here. It's not a terribly glorious legacy, or one that I would recommend anyone try to replicate, but it's what I've got. My latest sojourn to the NGay resulted in Joe cooking a shitload of pasta, the two of us pounding an entire bottle of rum in about 30 minutes, a spirited round of darts, me falling into a bush, and some wildly inappropriate facebook messaging (I apologize, Sarah Schachner...I hardly knew ye'). Needless to say, everything that took place after the bottle of rum is hazy at best in my memory. It was dangerously irresponsible, but also way, way, way too much fun. God bless the NGay.

-On a far more sobering and responsible note:
In lieu of the tragic shootings at Northern Illinois University, and as we near the one year anniversary of the Virgina Tech massacre, I want to reiterate a point I made a few months ago after the untimely and tragic death of Sean Taylor: this country has a serious, serious violence problem. Gun violence is the most extreme form of this epidemic, but violence is every where in America- from football to video games to the disturbing rise in popularity of the barbaric MMA fighting shows and their ilk. This is not a black problem nor a white problem. It's not a male problem or a female problem. It's an American problem. Until we pragmatically address these issues- by seriously analyzing why we're so drawn to the spectacle of two men beating each other to a pulp, by enacting real gun control legislation- tragic events like the ones in DeKalb, Illinois, and Blacksburg, Virginia, will continue to be a regular part of our news cycle. I'm aware this is not road trip-centric, but I did take a trip to Northern Illinois University in the fall of my junior year. I was working for the Temple football team, and we had a game in DeKalb. I was only there for a night, but the students I met went out of their way to be hospitable and kind. The campus seemed to be a vibrant community in the midst of a vast nothingness (oh the corn fields of the midwest...). I hope those students I met are safe and with their families. Our prayers go out to those students who were injured, and especially to the families of those who lost their lives.