Kate's Point of View

The Product of Creative Frustration

Month: May 2007 Page 1 of 2

Subculture

I’ve been fascinated with sociology ever since I took my first class at OU and had my former cop professor relate theories to his days on the strip fighting crime. Sociology is a science and I will defend that as fervently as any other social science nerd, but it’s also basically a way to get your degree in people watching. I was like a professional before I ever went to school.

My newest sociological obsession is looking at subcultures. I love to know what makes these little subgroups different from the rest of society. How do you enter the group? How does a person gain prestige in the group? (That one’s my favorite.) What traditions and symbols exist that make the group unique?

In the past week I assisted in shearing alpacas, attended a flea market and almost attended a cat show (sorry Picou). That cat show really would have been tremendous in terms of watching how people interact and behave. The flea market and alpaca farm were pretty rich with cultural quirks, though. And really, I am sure I participated in more subgroups that I just don’t notice because I am officially part of them.

So this idea I have rolling around in my head is to do some sort of recurring feature – and it could really just be a blog – where I enter another culture for as period of time and then write about it. My less developed idea was to perform other people’s jobs for a day and write about it as a column for some paper or something. But to be honest, the subculture thing is a little more fascinating to me.

Thoughts?

Alpaca Before Shearing

Alpaca After Shearing
This post originally appeared on Kate’s Point of View. © Kate. All rights reserved.

Middle America

You won’t see stuff like this on the side of the road in New York City.
This post originally appeared on Kate’s Point of View. © Kate. All rights reserved.

Argh

It has been a long while since I have spoken of my love of pirates, but please do not think I have lost any of my lust for booty. Last night WonderBoy and I were watching one of the crap home organization shows I am addicted to like a cheap crack whore. During commercials we saw a preview for what promises to be THE GREATEST TELEVISION SHOW TO EVER BE PRODUCED.

“Join 16 modern-day pirates as they embark on a high seas adventure around the Caribbean island of Dominica in search of hidden treasure that will total $1 million. Over the course of 33 days, the pirates will live aboard a massive 179-foot pirate ship. … In the end, captain or not, only one pirate will win the largest booty, worth $500,000, and claim the title of “Pirate Master.”

You know you will be tuning in right with me.

This post originally appeared on Kate’s Point of View. © Kate. All rights reserved.

Proving I can blow pretty well

I went to an Old School party on Saturday that ended up in chaos ranging from adolescent flirting, drunkenness of the kind not seen since before the age of 21, black outs and a contest displayed my skills at their finest. The ambiguously themed party had drinks from childhood and packed lunches to take home with us as goody bags. Our hostess, before she ended up fetal and asleep, donned a hairnet and the DJ entertained every vintage musical notion that popped in anyone’s head.

Midway through the festivities we have a Bubble Blowing Content where we each had a few moments two chew two pieces of Bubble Yum bubblegum and prepare our cheeks and mouths for champion bubbles. In truth, this was an unfair competition since I regularly chew Hubba Bubba® bubblegum and am an avoid bubble blower. In fact, I offered to save out hostess some gum and chew my own but this was seen as a nasty tactic to scare off my opponents.

Apparently it worked, and dirty jokes ensued as I blew a bubble the size of my head.

This post originally appeared on Kate’s Point of View. © Kate. All rights reserved.

Free

I used to do these really bike rides. It started out as something to do because a friend asked me. “Wanna go on a 150 mile ride for charity?” “Sure, why not.” Then, in graduate school, I decided to use those same rides as the setting for my thesis research. In order to get the right data, I had to do several rides in a short period of time. Some I did by myself and others I roped friends into.

My friend from college, Delicious, went on the Cleveland ride with me. I was in better shape, only because I had spent the summer on a bike, but neither of us was in such good shape that we flew through the ride. In fact, the best part, BY FAR, was any section of the route that went down hill. We could either pedal as fast as possible to fly at unheard of speeds OR lift our legs and glide down the hill like we were flying.

The last few days, over lunch, I’ve found a way to reclaim this feeling of flying. I walk a few blocks from where I work to a playground. School is still in session for the year so I am the only one in the park and I just swing. As in on the swing set. It’s awesome. I feel like I am a little kid and the air floating over my skin makes me feel light and free.

This post originally appeared on Kate’s Point of View. © Kate. All rights reserved.

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