Aug

3

Rhetoric

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When you think of “rhetoric”, do you think of…

using language effectively to please or persuade

or

loud and confused and empty talk

When I originally went with rhetoric in the blog name years ago, I was thinking with the latter to fall in with the already loud ones.

Somewhere along the journey, I switched to wanting what I wrote to have meaning and help someone along the way. Part of why I don’t blog much is avoiding being a gas bag. The posts ought to mean something.

Maybe its not so bad to get the idea out there and let someone else provide the meaning?

Feb

18

Another Doppleganger?

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I have a universal face. People confuse me with others.

  1. In elementary school, a kid thought at first I was in another grade. My classmates attested to my proper grade. Turns out he confused me with someone a couple grades ahead.
  2. In 2000, Le Ann wanted to know the name of the girl she saw me kissing on a street corner. Yeah, that wasn’t me. I was at work.
  3. In 2002, I stopped going to Blimpie because an employee insisted I worked for SAFT. She refused to believe I did not or had not.
  4. In 2005, at a Cracker Barrel in Mississippi on a trip to Arkansas, a guy was staring at me. Eventually he came over to say “Hi” to his friend. It wasn’t until he was a few feet away that he realized I wasn’t his friend.
  5. In 2008, a coworker “saw” me in Atlanta Gwinnett while I was actually at work. I don’t think she has been convinced it wasn’t me. :(
  6. Also, in 2008, a hostess is sure I work at a local library.

Obviously I am not distinctive enough.

Dec

29

RRRv302 REPOST: Did A Stupid Thing

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Originally posted January 15, 2004.

v4 means its the fourth incarnation of this blog. This post was in v3. Thankfully, MovableType writes the content to files meaning there is a lasting archive. That reminds me… Need to put on the calendar to do regular backups of this blog.

Back to the post:

Did A Stupid Thing

No, really stupid. About the stupidest thing I have done in years. So stupid that it proves my idea that I am the luckiest person ever. No, really!

Soft sand cannot support weight. Small Japanese cars do not have the traction or capability of getting out of it. So even to attempt to turn around on a dirt road where there is a gate and soft sand between is about the dumbest thing ever. I knew it before I tried it. However, I had just spend 1/2 an hour driving around the middle of nowhere to find a friend’s house using only my recollection of the directions and map from several days earlier.

So my car was stuck and my efforts to get it out probably were only making it worse. This is the worst part in terms of my abject stupidity. Decided to ask for help. Walked down the dirt road to the first house and knocked on the rail leading to the mobile home. The people inside obviously did not hear so I stomped on the step and yelled an inquiry as to whether anyone was home. The lady of the house turned on the light, saw me, and freaked. Her husband was not quite as skittish, but still pretty nervous as he asked me to show him my hands and inquired about the availablity of weapons on my person and car. His dad next door had a tractor that might be able to help so he went to ask. While waiting for his dad, he asked all kinds of more questions.

I did lie here. Told him that I was visiting my friend earlier. On my way home, I realized I left something at the house and was going to turn around to go back over there. Because of the hills and speeds of cars on the highway, I didn’t want to turn around in the middle of the road (this sentence is true). Didn’t want to let these people know that I was out here essentially kind of lost and helpless.

The dad came, asked more grilling questions and asking for specifics. Stuff like my name, where I live, where I work, what I do. Turns out he has a web site. They pushed the car enough back with it in reverse that it was able to get traction. I turned around in their driveway and went home.

Called my friend to let him know what happened and that I am okay.

In talking with one of my assistants this morning, I found out that someone had used a ploy of asking for help to murder a family not all that far from there. Their timidity was certainly understandable. Their bravery in assisting me seems so much more impressive. The guy could have seen me there, killed me and probably not gone to prison. That is why I am still the luckiest guy walking on this planet.

Posted by Ezra at January 15, 2004 11:27 AM

Comments

Good story, though. Why didn’t you go to their front door and knock?

Posted by: lacey at January 15, 2004 05:58 PM
Knocked on the railing because I didn’t want to be extremely close to the door. As a black male, I know that white people tend to be a little skittish around “my type”. Them looking out the window and seeing me right there might have been a little nerve wracking.

I did notice that the husband stayed in his truck quite a bit with his right hand on the seat. I really think he might have had something there to take care of me should I have been a threat.

Posted by: ez at January 15, 2004 06:15 PM

Dec

17

From Dead and Buried to Reaching the Stars

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What is the American fascination with Tutankhamun? Personally, I favor Ramses II. Actually, Ramses II was one of my first obsessions. I knew everything there was to know about him at seven years old. Decades later, I’ve forgotten most of what I knew.

We share the phoneme “Ra”. Ra was an Egyptian sun god probably a tie for my interest in other sun gods and goddesses such as Helios, Sól, Amaterasu and Apollo. Unlike Icarus, I longed to fly too close to the Sun. Other kids thought about becoming police officers or fighting fires. I longed to travel to inside the orbit of Mercury near our Sun. Also, I thought about traveling to other stars.

As a child, my doodles were small to fairly large battles of militaristic or science-fiction themes. I especially liked strong, impenetrable bases. Later, in high school, the doodles changed into massive dungeons and mammoth castles. The builder expressing itself?

The dreams of my childhood seemed unattainable in my youth. Certainly I gave up on them too early. However, I like where and who I am today.

Nov

29

Deeds of Gaijin Occupiers

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My grandmother has recently started telling everyone she owns a house in Japan (gaijin cannot own land?). In the 1950s, my grandfather was stationed in Japan. He went over by himself, acquired a house, and sent for his wife and six kids to come. The most common story my grandmother tells is this trip over there. It has several humorous elements to portray the personalities of all the kids. They stayed there for almost 3 years (typical of a deployment) and came back to the continental US. Since, the military base where they live was closed. Someone found the deed to the house and showed or gave it to her. This is what sparked the owning a house story.

abandonment: in law, voluntary, intentional, and absolute relinquishment of rights or property without conveying them to any other person. abandonment

Typically one maintains one’s rights to property by occupying or having others occupy even once in a while. Paying taxes helps as well. By just abandoning the house about 50 years ago, I am pretty sure whatever rights the deed conveys are lost.

My favorite of the stories about Japan is one about an earthquake opening a crack in the ground. The military found a number of previously unknown tunnels underneath the base. Presumably these were dug during World War II with the intent of covert troop movement during a US invasion. Its probably fortunate the US was not forced to invade Japan proper.

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Oct

20

Melungeon

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Mom dropped me a note last night. She ran across the word melungeon while doing some genealogy research. It describes someone who is of European, African, and Native American descent. It was popular in the Appalachian Mountains and similar in use to Mulatto in being a negative term.

I haven’t talked about this much on this blog, apparently. Just the one post mentioning I am a product of miscegenation. I was searching for other posts and ran across this draft from 2005 which I did not publish here:

Apparently I make people think of miscegenation. In a way that describes my social status: Other. See, my father is among the darkest African Americans one will see. He works in construction so he has tanned quite a bit. My mother is among the lightest European Americans one will see (former platinum blonde; it changed to brown when my brother was born).I represent what many purists among either White or Black cultures fear the most…. a dilution of the purity of the race. Over the years I have come to realize that as such a tiny (but growing group), mixed race children represent something new and thus are in the spotlight.

I am not a golf fan, but I like that Tiger Woods has excellent personality qualities which made him the top prize in Chapelle’s Racial Draft sketch.
:)

My looks are different enough people do ask. Usually, its a contrived transition, but I am not offended. My favorite conversation went like this:

Laurie: Ezra, where are you from?
Ezra: Right here, born and raised.
Laurie: Oh… Where are your parents from?
Ezra: Dad is from here. Mom was a military brat, so she’s not really from anywhere.
Laurie (Getting visibly confused… Long pause.): Okay, I’ll just say it. Why do you look like that?
Ezra: Oh, okay! I understand now. My father is black. My mother is white.

Truth is there is also some Native American genetics working in my father’s genes. The story is one of my great-great-grandmothers was full Creek. Its so far back that I have my doubts about its influence.

However, apparently, if the features to identify are known, then it can be seen? For instance, back at Valdosta State, I went over to an office to convince a guy to let my office put together their web site. I had not had any luck over email or phone, so I was going to use the face-to-face time to make it happen. Just as I was about to leave, he asked, “What tribe?” That threw me. He explained he saw the influence of Native Americans in my features and was curious which tribe was involved.

Then there is the Nike Air Native N7. It sounds like the perfect shoe for me.

Years ago, when I was young, my aunt was trying to get me interested African American culture. Years later we finally agreed that I am indeed Multiracial which isn’t necessarily the same as just African American. Instead, its my responsibility to pick and choose what works for me.

Sep

3

Meningitis

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Mom wrote a poem called Meningitis recently and presented it at the TBS talent show. The poem describes in graphic detail her experience of my catching Meningitis when I was three years old. The coma. The burning to the touch. My body being kept on ice to bring down the temperature. My parents not being allowed to touch or hold me for days. The massive amounts of penicillin. The child across the hall who died (the most likely outcome) before I recovered.

I did recover. Though, as with some coma patients I had to relearn basic motor functions (at an accelerated pace). The doctors were concerned I was not talking. When I got home, I resumed talking like normal. A part of the story not in the poem is that I would point in the direction of our house with a frustrated expression. Since the room in the hospital faced such that I could see it, I didn’t understand at the time why I could not go home…. after all, I could see it.

I have mixed feelings about whether this is a private or open topic. Its deeply personal. However, at the same its somewhat abstract for me. Something that happened so long ago. I do not remember these events except as the stories other tell about me.

I am glad I survived. At the same time, when I think about the other families whose children who did not survive, I usually shed several tears. I could pass them in the street and not know who they are, but for some reason it pains me.

Jun

12

I’ve been tagged

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By George [here] to post seven facts about me.

  1. I am the product of miscegenation.
  2. I read when I eat alone.
  3. There are 455 contacts in my instant messenger.
  4. Three of my four grandparents died before the age of 55.
  5. My height is 191.5 cm.
  6. No one else has my name in Google. (First entry not me is on page 3. HowManyOfMe.com says I should not exist.)
  7. I am a “second generation” Baha’i.

I am tagging: Amy, Bernie, Britt, Michelle, Michelle, Nicole, Sarah

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May

24

Once Librarian Aspirations

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A recent comment I made regarding to another blogger regarding my interest in getting an MLIS: Huh… Back in college, MLIS was part of my career path. That seems like forever ago, but it was only less than eight years?

It was a natural fit for me. As a university student, working in the library, I worked the Reference desk for fun. One summer, four of the eight Reference Librarian positions needed  to be hired, so they hired me as a staff member to work full time on the desk to answer questions and help people. That was the best job I’d ever had at that point. It was definitely something I loved doing. The University Librarian offered to hire me should I go off to library school and apply to work there.

Computers won. I got a job I loved just a little bit more working in Information Technology. So I was hooked.

The possibility of going back in the library direction seems ever present. At first it was the possibility of turning my IT experience into a great admission into an Automation Librarian MLIS degree. Later, when I become full time staff at a university, my graduate school thoughts turned towards other degrees I could get for free. Eventually, the university started an MLIS program. While observing its likelihood of obtaining accreditation, I left for another job.

Maybe I’ll get an MLIS eventually? Maybe I’ll go another route? Who knows. Futurology has never served me well.

Apr

5

Another Day, Another Blog

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Even though I have blogs at LJ, Xanga, MySpace, and Friendster, I had to try to ressucitate my old main blog for Rants, Raves, and Rhetoric.

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