Sleep tight.
I sit stationed at the front desk, writing e-mails and handling my business. Outside they wander from city sidewalk to mailbox. They lean against windows, spit, sputter, and laugh. They aren’t afraid to make eye contact—because most aren’t willing to meet their gaze. They are the forgotten, the ugly, the sleepless.
They set up camps in doorways, one is dozing off right now—he apologized as I opened the front door, “Sir you can stay, but I don’t want to wake you up when I leave.” As the glass door whined shut he muttered, “I haven’t slept a whole night in two years, another night won’t matter.”
He left room, he sleeps sideways tonight.
Underneath a blue sleeping bag his body rises and falls. Whisps of bright gray hair peek out from a red cap, his battered foam mat curls up around him—holding him tight.
The theatre across the streets empties quickly and soon the night is filled with those who can afford the luxury of tickets. While the revelers fill the streets, his body rises and falls with the same cadence, he is indifferent to the noise.
Two young men, they sneak up to the sleeping man, and I watched in horror as they kicked him in the legs as hard as they could. They roar with laughter and run like cowards. The old man struggles up yelling and shaking; spitting and cursing.
Ripping through the haze of sleep, he screams: “WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT, WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT YOU MOTHER FUCKERS?” On the curb he stands drooping as they laugh at him from across the street. They don’t know why they did it, they don’t have a clue. And how could they, how many of you have slept on a sidewalk?
I run to the kitchen and grab an orange, I lean out the front door, and I hand it to him as he settles back into bed. “Have it for breakfast, whenever you wake up” I say.
And with sad eyes he looks at me while cradling the fruit in his cracked hands, “I haven’t slept a whole night in two years.”
THE PITCH: BUY THIS REALITY TELEVISION SHOW.
Special thanks to: Allie D. for holding the camera– especially when her hand hurt, Jenna N. for letting me swipe a camera and mike for a day, Ratatat for the SWEET TUNES, and the people of Boston for being so chatty.
THE PITCH:
This show mates “The Apprentice” and “Survivor” Five graduating students haven’t a clue as to what they want to do post graduation. $20,000 per, and personalized training. Questing for an ideal.
DETAILS ARE BORING:
“Follow your passion.” That’s the sage advice that adults and leaders give us as we try and find our way through the maze that is life. “Follow your dreams, follow your aspirations, follow your gut.” With that staggering lack of detail it’s no wonder that some students aim for practicality. The finance major, accountant, business major– money is quantifiable. Passion… well not so much. And that’s the quandary that many graduating students find themselves in. This ever pressing question of: What do I want to do with the rest of my life?
For some graduating students practicality is the only answer. As tuition increases and with the job market shrinking as of late, practicality usurps passion and the pursuit of dollars has become the objective. But even if you were a business major in college, the plan isn’t particularly laid out for you. What kind of business? Do you want to be an entrepreneur, day trader, work for the man? And with today’s market mishaps, being in business might not be the safest of choices!
Graduates are finishing school and entering a universe of opportunities– we are embarking on a journey of experience. Very few of us are satisfied by the prospects of working one job for the rest of our life, and with the whole concept of pensions and the elusive “retirement” getting rarer and rarer to find, there really isn’t much incentive to do so. We want our ideal, we want that job that excites, inspires, and motivates. A job that fills our own inner desires– that job that speaks to our gut, our aspirations, our (dare I say it) passions.
But what of these passions? Where are they? What do they look like, taste like, how can I turn my love for building things into something I can live off of? How are other people doing it? Where, why,who, and how how how how?!
Give confused graduates from five different university’s some money and the support they need to go on the adventures of their lifetimes. Allow them mentorship and guidance, and follow them as they fulfill the goals and dreams that they have outlined for themselves. Put emphasis on you can do anything, the world is smaller than you imagined, and experience is the only way to learn.
Two weeks of journey per episode, each student picks a destination and a goal. The goal can be practical or impractical– it just has to help answer the question: Is this something I want to do for the rest of my life? Break the pre-concieved notions about a place, job, or subject. Take the rhetoric about “careers” out of the classroom and watch it manifest in reality.
Mecca for me
There were two girls standing in front of me and the instructor, in a sincere tone said, “You both can’t dance with him.” To which I replied, almost whimsically, “we could try.” A little more standing took place before one shuffled off and I was left to attempt the Salsa. It’s a good thing we didn’t try, because it would have been a disaster. Now let me tell you something– I am only good at dancing when I’m intoxicated, and I think it might have something to do with impaired judgment. There is a musical bone in my body somewhere, I can play guitar, but get me on the dance floor and my feet end up knotted and limp like spaghetti. I can’t quite explain it. Following instructions and following a beat, two requirements that elude me. As I tried to follow the footsteps I kept tripping over myself and reversing steps. And this is the Salsa we’re talking about here, it’s not that hard. Left foot forward, right foot up, left foot backward right foot back, and left foot up. I have it in my head, the concept is there— but making my body listen is much like asking a dog to tell you a bedtime story– it’s not going to happen, and if the dog even makes an attempt it’s not going to be very soothing.
So I made a lot of apologies for myself, and spent a lot of time laughing. It was good fun. Unfortunately I never looked a single dance partner in the eye, I was too busy watching my feet. So much for that idea of female interaction; Maybe next time.
Salsa class was at the end of the day. It was the very last segment to a very long day. I woke up early this morning 20 minutes before my interview with Greenpeace. I called in and rescheduled, then proceeded– after hearing that I’d have to work five days a week for six hours a day trying to get people to sign up for Greenpeace (for 12 bucks an hour mind you) to negotiate my way out of a job offer. I would consider myself the perfect person to be yelling at strangers from a street corner getting them to do something for me, that’s like my forte. But not for six hours, and not for five days a week. They wouldn’t let me volunteer! All I wanted was to volunteer! Not some day job! Do I look desperate?!
So it was back into the tunnels with me– the subway has lost a bit of its allure. How things change in 24 hours. I did come up with a brilliant idea: in Boston the subway is called the T. I want to have a Boston T party. How appropriate is that!?!? It will either consider of a sophisticated re-enactment of Englishmen dressed as Indians tossing tea from open subway doors at subway stops. Or it could be a bit more metaphorical and we can hire a DJ; get down and funky subterranean style. Either way, it’s probably been done already.
At Kendall/MIT station I made a hasty departure from my day dreaming. It was time to visit the Mecca for engineers. I said a short prayer to Newton and Einstein asking for forgiveness for only getting past Algebra 2. Then I cleansed my body and soul with a chicken, ham, and swiss cheese crepe from the crepe factory. As I ate I stared at the educational environs that lay before me. MIT has been a place that has only lived in my imagination. As a child I read about the school and fantasized about being there, about playing with all of the equipment, building gadgets, designing new technologies, and interacting with the best and brightest. MIT was truly a glorious place in my mind’s eye, and as I witnessed it’s vastness in front of me for the first time I was delighted. it’s ingeniously designed buildings, the students milling about on the sidewalk, the cute girl who was sitting next to me talking about what it was like being a neuroscience major at MIT (consequently she was having boyfriend problems as well which struck me as odd, you’d think they’d have developed a way to engineer themselves out of bad breakups. Anyway I digress.) I was in a state of heaven.
I could not enter the campus after that crepe. It wasn’t enough. I know it seems silly, but to me, this was Mecca, and I was not yet worthy. So I went to the Broad institute instead. Yes it is part of MIT, but it’s the Broad Institute, it needs no other name. A gentleman in line at the creperey mentioned I go in and check out some of the equipment on display. And of course the front doors were locked. I peered over at the cute secretary sitting gingerly at her desk and I knocked on the window, motioning for her to let me in.
“Did you forget your badge?” She said.
“No I don’t have one.” I replied with Candor. “I’m here to look at the neat stuff.”
“Well sir it’s past hours and if you do not have a badge you cannot see the showroom. I’m sorry.”
The rest is tedious and tremendously entertaining but let’s just say that I am now the proud owner of a new fact: “Boston girls like to make out with hot guys. All you have to do is dance with them.” Also: a new phone number burning a hole through my pocket. We’ll see what I do with that.
I WAS FINALLY WORTHY OF MIT!
So off I went. I had no idea where to go. I just started walking onto campus. And what do I spy, a mere four hundred feet down the street? The MIT Media Labs. It was if the hand of Feynman (the most playful of famous quantum physicists) was guiding me to the holy land of exciting research and edutainment. I didn’t even blink. I walked through the front doors like I owned the place– and straight into the Lifelong Kindergarten group.
The MIT Media Labs are pretty famous. Started in 1984 to put together technology and media a lot of startling achievements, and people, have come out of that place. Ever heard of Rock Band? Guitar Hero? Yeah the guys who invented that graduated from the Media Labs. It’s like this interdisciplinary world where art and science get mashed up into brand new things. The program was practically tailor made for a person like me– someone who can’t sit still.
I fell in love. It was exactly what I want to experience: A place where the ultra smart get together and play. There are little projects all over the place. Weird homebrew WiFi enabled cameras dot the ceilings, strange suits padded with all sorts of electronics, students and teachers sitting around and just chatting about the possibilities. If you’ve ever seen a James Bond movie and been introduced to Q’s laboratory– this was that place. All sorts of strange and unique high tech experiments were going on all around me. The place was playful, full of energy, and inviting.
I talked to a few people, but I wasn’t ready to sell myself yet. I need to read more about the different groups and get a better background on the place. If I play my cards right it just might be my new home for the next couple of years.
Have a look: http://labcast.media.mit.edu/?p=27
And yeah… I’ll probably try salsa again.
Balloon Project Launch Video
Going through some documents today I stumbled across some onboard video footage from launch. Might as well make a movie out of it!
Balloon Project: The Movie
Music By: Andy McKee
The Balloon Launch is just one short week away. I’m extremely excited and very scared. Yesterday I gave a presentation about the project to a panel of judges for the CSU Undergraduate Research Competition. I’m not sure if I won, I think I did a pretty ok job though. Below is a short video I made to show the judges how all of the systems of the project work. I hope you enjoy it.
For those of you who are new to the Balloon Project, feel free to peruse the formal write up.
This is the first formal post in iAmKosta.org. I hope you enjoyed it. Expect more to come and visit often!
