Scraps: Street Theorist

Entries categorized as ‘homesickness’

Part IV: The Final Sprint of Sean’s 2009 American Birkebeiner

April 12, 2009 · 4 Comments

[note: to read parts 1-3, go to Archives and click on April 2009]

 

I am not perfect. And I am not dead. I am still skiing.

 

A sweeping left hand bend and I can finally see the lake. And Lake Hayward is a cake walk; a 4 km piece of smooth gliding, just before the sprint through main street. I feel weak and giddy, sick and gloppy. One reason that I feel gloppy is because of the all the wool that I am wearing. Sure the big news in technical gear these days is Smartwool and Icebreaker, but what I now know is that after five hours of continual sweating, the fibers reach their max, and they sort of droop. So, I feel moist gobs of wool flapping around my arms and legs.

 

My legs cramp up again. I think about eating another Gu, but what if a real emergency should strike? I decide to save the Gu. I come up with a great idea. Since my legs are not working, why not use my arms and just pole for a while. This is working very well. I am going slowly, but making progress. I hear someone slowly catching up to me on my left. I look and see a young woman. She is carrying her ski poles like you would carry firewood. Her skate skiing technique is quite good though. I look at her and she looks at me. I say “hi.”

 

She responds by crying. It is certainly not uncommon to see and hear crying in the Birkebeiner; if crying helps, then you should do it. But the sound of her crying throws me off. A sort of “boo hoo, boo hoo,” sound reaches me as she continues to pass me. Now, of course we know from cognitive neuroscience that crying, the actual tears, precede the feeling of sadness. What if she is crying because of some crazy joy? That is possible you know. I cried during the 1984 Olympics when Alexi Grewal beat Steve Bauer in the men’s road race. As I think of that sprint, a sprint that Grewal could not even dream of winning against the powerful Canadian sprinter, I too start to cry.

 

I wonder if Alexi G. ever had problems due to winning?

I wonder if Alexi G. ever had problems due to winning?


 

We skate and cry next to each other for a minute before she slowly pulls away from me. Hey wait. Her race bib number is in the ten thousands. She is a tenth waver. I catch back up to her. She skates and I pole. We form one complete skier. Oh, that little rise really hurt me. I stop. I survey the scene before me. A smooth downhill run and there, just past those trees, I see the lake. Almost home. I start poling again and then I see him.

………….Do you like what you are reading? Then read on a bit further.

SORRY READERS!  I have taken down the rest of this entry because I am expanding the Birkie story and sending it out to small presses for publication. Let me know if you are interesting in a copy of such a book: sean-scanlan@uiowa.edu

 

Categories: Culture · Literature · Sports · homesickness · nostalgia
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Part III: Or, the Man in Yellow

April 11, 2009 · 3 Comments

 

The Mysterious Man in Yellow Raises the Stakes

The Mysterious Man in Yellow Raises the Stakes

 

 

Welcome to Part III.

Bitch Hill now past me, I focus on each major hill as a possible end point, a quitting point. Wrap me in dark wool blankets and let the snowmobiles take me away. Only once I get to the rest area, I eat a bit more banana, have a gu, and drink a bunch of warm lemonade. Then voilà, I am ready to think about making it to the next place where I might want to quit.

 

I tend to focus on the up hill struggles. Yes, I thought there were going to be 8 major climbs and then things will plane-out and get nearly flat after Telemark Hill. Wrong you knucklehead! There are 8 rest stations that happen to be located at the top of particularly big hills. Did I tell you, dear reader, that there are 38 minor climbs in amongst the 8 major climbs? This image does not do justice to the idea or reality of “vertical”:

 

 

 

Trail Elevation for the Birkebeiner

Trail Elevation for the Birkebeiner

 

 

As you can see, the trail looks very hilly in the first half and gradually downhill during the second half. This graphic is a lie. So, to the person who told me that the hills are “over” after the halfway mark: inaccurate balderdash! And to the people who say that “OO” is the halfway mark: more inaccurate horse-pucky! The astute reader will know that “OO” is at 22.8 km. Simple math reveals that 27.2 km still remain. Complex math reveals that you still have 4.4 km to go before you are really at the halfway mark. Using even more complex math, that is like an 8.8% difference!

………………… Do you like what you are reading? Then read on, dear readers.

SORRY READERS!  I have taken down the rest of this entry because I am expanding the Birkie story and sending it out to small presses for publication. Let me know if you are interesting in a copy of such a book: sean-scanlan@uiowa.edu

 

Categories: Culture · Sports · homesickness

Modern Homesickness: History and Meaning Behind the U.S. Housing Meltdown

December 10, 2008 · 1 Comment

        

This editorial might be of interest to those following the housing meltdown as it melts down the rest of the economy here in Iowa, in the U.S., and around the world. Yes, I know it is a year old. But, unfortunately, much of this is still current.

Originally published in the Iowa City Press-Citizen

 

September 23, 2007

Section: OPINION

Page: 11A

 

 

Modern homesickness

By Sean Scanlan

Guest Opinion

 

Even if you are safely housed, you may suffer from a worsening case of homesickness. Consider the following: The ongoing Darfur conflict has displaced more than 2.5 million people. More than 1.1 million Iraqis have been displaced since 2003. Hurricane Katrina devastated the Gulf Coast, displacing an estimated 1.1 million.

 

Closer to home, in Chicago, the subprime mortgage crisis sent foreclosures literally through the roof. Writing in the Chicago Tribune, John McCarron reports than urban foreclosures in 2006 were more than 10,000. But in the suburbs, the holy grail of the American dream, there were nearly 19,000 foreclosures.

 

Even closer to home, Iowa has its own housing crisis. When I started to write this guest opinion, Iowa was ranked as the ninth most affected state in the subprime collapse. By the second week of September, Iowa moved up to fourth, according to Iowa Public Radio. Last year, 1 in 2,700 Iowa property owners faced foreclosure — up 9 percent from the previous year. Losing one’s home is not something that affects somebody else in a foreign land, it happens to your neighbors, to you, possibly to me. And something must be done.

 

These statistics are part of the story of American homemaking and building that goes back to World War II. This story has two sides to it. The mythical side that says if you don’t succeed, it is your fault. The other — which is based on recorded documents and personal experiences — says that opportunity is not handed out equally and systemic profiteering ruins actual lives. Because myths have enough presence in popular culture and in the marketplace, I will focus on the less well-known side of the story. The central plot of this story is the alliance between the for-profit housing industry and government (local and federal) that altered laws, infrastructure and housing design, eventually creating a monstrous machine in whose belly we now find ourselves.

 

Historical context

 

Historical context is important. After World War II, the demand for housing was so great, reports historian Kenneth T. Jackson, that retired trolley cars, large ice boxes and surplus grain bins were sold as homes. To solve this crisis, the Veterans Administration mortgage program and the FHA combined with businesses to help families move into their own homes.

 

Sounds good so far. But four decisions altered the very look and feel of the American home:

 

•   First, house builders promoted factory production techniques that stripped away the need for skilled labor.

 

•  Second, the government did not require massive building companies such as Levitt and Sons to build roads, schools, sewers or sidewalks.

 

•  Third, the VA and FHA backed loans for single-family homes, not apartments, and rarely in urban areas.

 

•  Fourth, house loans were largely restricted to white males.

 

If these policies did not include the elderly or minorities, if they isolated families and women, if they destroyed public transportation and urban neighborhoods, at least they provided many millions homes on a large scale.

 

Iowa City and ‘in loco parentis’

 

The farm crisis of the 1970s shocked the housing structure of Iowa City. As the university’s enrollment grew, the state’s coffers dried up. With no money to build new dorms, local housing businesses approached the school with a proposition: Get rid of the “in loco parentis” rule, and we will take care of your housing problems.

 

For example, the last university-built dorm was Slater Hall — that was 1968. The ramifications of this decision have changed the shape of Iowa City’s homes, architecture and streets. It has changed people’s lives, whether these people are students who now live in “undergraduate ghettos” of converted single-family homes or families who have been forced out of these once quiet and safe neighborhoods.

 

The rise of undergraduate apartment culture has changed the feel of Iowa City, and reciprocally, those feelings affect the future shape of this city. The current housing crisis is mainly a homeowner problem, but we can see how university students are implicated in the mess.

 

This crisis does not lead to nostalgic homesickness for a lost, yet better, past. This is a structural homesickness. Actual housing practices (redlining, unfair mortgage rates, restrictive covenants, complex rate adjustments, unfair landlord-tenant agreements) and actual short-term government policies (FHA loans to builders but not for infrastructure) have combined to deface the connections between where people live and how they live.

 

Architect Dolores Hayden explains that for the past 50 years, federal subsidies for accelerated depreciation for commercial real estate and subsidies for interstate highways have laid the groundwork for the catastrophe of “sprawl” including, for example, abandoned Wal-Mart and Menards stores. These shortsighted decisions do help somebody: big businesses. These decisions have also created a contest between residents who wish to enjoy the suburban city and developers who seek to profit from them. This contest ruins communal ties; it does not have to be this way.

 

Solving the current crisis

 

The current subprime foreclosures are part of the legacy of 1980s banking deregulation — a real-estate speculation debacle that resulted in 1,000 bank failures and $150 billion in losses. Who should we blame? John McCarron warns against placing all of the blame on defaulting borrows.

 

How about some proof that business is really to blame? Last year, Ameriquest Mortgage Co. entered into a $325 million settlement with the attorneys general and regulators from 49 states because they pleaded guilty to predatory lending practices such as hidden charges and falsified loan applications. The machine of business and government are “gaming” the system because they made the system.

 

What should we do? McCarron has some good ideas:

 

• First, mandatory mortgage counseling.

 

• Second, full disclosure of all costs to the borrower.

 

• Third, cap rates.

 

• Fourth, make all mortgage company rates and financial statements a matter of public record.

 

In addition, we must do one essential task: plan our neighborhoods and our city for long-term, balanced and equitable growth.

 

Recently, the Iowa City Council has taken up the idea of long-range planning. I applaud this drive, and I hope that residents have a voice in the actual process of reconfiguring our hometown. But, I am worried about whose interests will ultimately rule the day. Specifically, who will be helped and hurt by the development along South Gilbert and Sand Road? We’ve already seen how road widening in that area may cause more problems than it solves.

 

The majority of blame for the current housing crisis rests with the rapacious housing industry that builds without foresight, lends without scruple and profits without personal ethics. The collective feelings that produce homesickness enable us to yearn for something better, not for the homes and the practices of the past (surely our lending practices are better than the misogynist and racist practices of the early 20th century).

 

We must demand homes for young Iowans, old Iowans, new Iowans, especially those who face barriers to gaining their own home. Let’s leave behind the myth that says failure in our democratic society is due to not working hard enough. It takes more than one person’s hard work to reinvent the idea and place of home. It requires a collective, communal effort to change the machine, so that fairness and profit are in balance. Within such an effort is a story worth following.

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Categories: Culture · homesickness
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What Is Nostalgia

December 7, 2008 · 2 Comments

Johannes HoferNostalgia is a word that was invented by Johannes Hofer, a Swiss medical student, in his 1688 dissertation titled “Medical Dissertation on Nostalgia.” He combined two Greek roots: nostos, or return home, plus algia, or suffering. So together we get homesickness–the common synonym for nostalgia in many dictionaries.

Commonly thought of as a yearning for the recent past, or homesickness due to present losses, nostalgia is a deceptively complex word that, like an umbrella, covers a wide range of personal and collective feelings about the collision between the past and the present. But nostalgia is also about the future, characterized by, especially, the tension between looking toward the past for traditional answers and looking toward the future for hope. The simultaneous presence of peculiarly modern forms of destabilization and recurrent desires for stabilization produces this tension. 

Nostalgia helps frame the past in terms of present experience. Nostalgia illuminates the historical context of the actual and perceived loss of home. But what is more, when public pasts fuse with private feelings in stories of historical change (real or imagined stories), nostalgia informs and structures decision-making and ultimately it reconfigures identity. Nostalgia is not amnesia, but rather, it is a complex use of the past during present moments of crisis.

Categories: Culture · Literature · homesickness · nostalgia
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