• Issue Archive for
  • May 20-26, 2009
  • Vol. 22, No. 10

News & Views

  • I get the point: A summer selling knives

    But let's go back to how I got there. I had just found out that my school didn't need another camp counselor and I was cruising Craigslist.org, looking for anybody (and I really mean anybody) that would hire a 17-year-old for the summer. And I stumbled upon an entry that read something along the lines of, "We're looking for energetic people who are outgoing and ready to control their own work schedule, but still make money. You don't need any experience, training provided." Thinking it would be a long shot, I set up my interview with a company about which I knew nothing and for which I couldn't find a website.
  • Bill McCollum: A law-and-order governor?

    After all, Crist was never interested in being Florida best governor, just Florida's best-liked governor. His strong populist streak kept him away from many of the bad ideas his party is behind (although he did jump on the awful tax reform bandwagon that has crippled local governments and school boards). The white-haired wonder boy even had some great ideas (clean energy initatives being at the top of that list), even if the nudniks in the Legislature all but ignored his initiatives.
  • Have fun with the kids this summer

    When you have kids, summer is less a vacation and more a challenge. Forget about those pastoral memories of your youth, when you and a friend jumped into the old fishing hole and caught toads for impromptu hoppin' contests -- it ain't like that around here. In fact, unless you have your very own pool, summer in the Bay area means finding ways to avoid being outside with your kids. And how many parents do you know -- these days -- who just send their kids out to entertain themselves for an eight-hour stretch? That's a surefire recipe for the kinds of kooky adventures that the DCF would frown upon, if they were competent.
  • Why I loved nerd camp

    All I ever needed to know, I learned at nerd camp. Four glorious summers spent at Duke Young Writers' Camp taught me the fine art of friendship bracelet-making, what to avoid at a cafeteria, the fact that my hands can't handle West African drumming, and a thing or two about diction from a rapping Quaker poet. I can't narrow down what exactly made nerd camp so fantastic that I returned three times, but as one of my poetry professors there would say, "Reasoning shit out won't keep you warm at night. Just spill out those fuzzy feelings on paper."

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