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As the weather warms up, flowers start to bloom, and allergies kick in (sigh), it’s fair to say that the flu season is (pretty much) behind us. However, it’s important to understand the financial cost of each flu season.
I got an email from someone at FrugalDad (http://frugaldad.com) with a link to an infographic that very clearly lays out the costs of preventing/treating the flu. What stuck out to me was the pretty significant difference in cost between vaccination versus enduring a bout of the flu and all the costs that can come with it. Bottom line: vaccination not only saves you a lot of the physical agony that can come with suffering from the flu, but it can save you a lot of money as well.
Source: FrugalDad.com
I just think back to high school, the day after that abysmal election day in 2000. My global history teacher at the time was bemoaning the results of the election, a sentiment shared by most if not all of us in the room. Al Gore had been robbed, and he worried out loud about the future of the country. He was right to worry.
Eight years later, we are teetering on the verge of a large recession (if not an outright depression), involved in two unpopular wars abroad, and lagging behind most of the world in education and healthcare. To paraphrase a line Chris Rock used in a recent interview, “A president has two jobs: maintain peace and make money. Is that so much to ask?” Dubya’s predecessor, Bill Clinton, did both. Dubya did neither.
Did Dubya achieve anything? Yes, it would be silly to say he was completely useless as a leader. One can’t really blame Dubya entirely for the problems we are mired in now, but he can still be blamed. Is he a bad person? No, but he was easily manipulated by those who were close to him. Ultimately, though, he will bear most of the flak. Under him, regulations flew out the window, and the market operated of its own accord. Under him, defense spending ballooned at the expense of other, more necessary spending for domestic programs. Under him, we lost our respect in the eyes of the rest of the world.
Tomorrow, Barack Obama will be inaugurated, ushering in a new administration. I hope the change he promised will materialize into legislation and decisions that will lift our country out of the ditch into which it has sunk. Hopefully he will right the wrongs that have gone unchecked for the last eight years. Hopefully we will return to peace and prosperity. Hopefully.
Disclaimer: This will probably be useless to the 90% of all moviegoers who probably have already seen this movie.
There’s no denying that I loved this movie, and for the most part, is deserving of the accolades it has received to date. That being said, though, it wasn’t my favorite movie of all time.
Dev Patel is definitely the real star here. He was clever and funny, and was able to quickly assume more serious emotions when needed. I’m not sure why Freida Pinto has been getting more press, she’s all right herself, but doesn’t really shine. Naturally Irrfan Khan was great, in his usual, understated way. Anil Kapoor gave probably the best performance in the context of all the other ones I have seen.
Being an Indian, I guess it was natural for me to feel a strong kinship to the story, as it meandered its way through Mumbai slums and beyond. There were parts of Mumbai that felt familiar, buildings I’ve seen, streets I’ve been on, so there was a connection beyond the plot and beyond the characters. The movie incorporated a fair amount of Hindi, all with subtitles, which lent it a feeling of greater authenticity. It may have been a hair quixotic–with its story unfailing love and the clean, near-perfect ending–but that’s what draws people in. Nonetheless, it was a story to which anyone could relate. That is probably what made it such a huge phenomenon.
The movie was an emotional journey that made sharp twists and turns, but never let you fall off. Despite the fact that Salim, Latika, and Jamal were raised in a slum–a place that probably few of us really understand, let alone have encountered–they were not distant characters, but ones to whom we could wholly relate.
It is important to note, however, that it may be easy for one to generalize the state of the slums to India as a whole. Poverty is present in India, but so is industrialization (as depicted in the film as well), as well as the clean-cut, beautiful, sometimes touristy side of India. India is taking strides towards a bright new future, but of course in order to secure it, it will need to address some of the problems. Corruption and poverty probably rank near the top.
Yet to those (Amitabh Bachchan et. al.) who think the movie portrays India as a third-world nation…I thought it was a pretty honest portrayal. Of course most people will not think of India as some backwards country, given the rate at which it has been accelerating towards the top. People are very well aware of that, especially in the U.S. We’re constantly bombarded with stories tracking China and India’s ascension to the world stage, alongside the ones tracking our clumsy fall from grace.
Don’t get me wrong, Amitabh is awesome, but I think he’s jumping the gun just a little bit.
So if you haven’t seen this film yet, go see it. It’ll definitely be worth your while.
For someone so far removed from the Abrahamic faiths as a whole, let alone Christianity, I love Christmas. This includes the religious aspects. Yes, Christmas does surprisingly have a strongly religious origin though based on how it’s celebrated by the majority of people, sometimes one wouldn’t think so.
I grew up believing in Santa Claus. I would write long, pleading letters to Santa asking for a list of toys. I would diligently set up the stockings above the fireplace, prepare the milk and cookies, and eagerly await his arrival. I had my heart broken when I realized Santa Claus, the tooth fairy, and my father had eerily similar handwriting. I continued, and still continue, to compile my Christmas lists…with limited success in getting anything.
Obviously I celebrate a slightly more secular version of the holiday, but it doesn’t mean I forget the meaning of Christmas…at least the original meaning. I would love to, one day, attend a midnight mass. It seems like such a profound experience, steeped in meaning. There is something very beautiful in the church displays of the Nativity scene, all those gathered gazing with devotion upon the newborn Jesus, outwardly vulnerable but even then, worthy of exaltation as the Savior.
Maybe it’s because I’m an adult, and maybe it’s because I’m cynical by nature, but it seems that there is no humanity left in the holiday anymore. Even the feel-good movies of the season, the ones that always end with “and that’s the real meaning of Christmas” feel empty and fake. What is Christmas now? It feels like, for many (though of course not all), Black Friday is the new Christmas. Naturally, shopping precedes Christmas, since presents are hallmark during this, perhaps the most important of holidays in the Christian calendar…and I suppose in general (at least for people growing up in the United States and other Western nations). Yet anticipation of the Christmas shopping season has reached an almost maniacal level, especially given the way the economy is faring.
For those of you who are reading this and are from countries other than the United States, let me fill you in on Black Friday. Black Friday marks the day after Thanksgiving, and is notable because stores have some of the steepest discounts of the season. People start lining up before midnight, in some cases, so that when the doors open they can get at the best merchandise.
I wouldn’t complain so much about how humanity is lost during the holidays, except for this little tidbit that was in the news:
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,458744,00.html
Yes, people trampled over a worker and killed him in the frenzy to get inside the Walmart. Yes, apparently, they fought off rescue personnel, who were apparently getting in the way of their shopping. Can you imagine what it must be like to have hundreds of feet stomping on your chest, feeling as your ribs crack, your lungs are punctured, and slowly you lose air and people pay no regard to you as you lie dying. All for a bargain? I understand people are hurting because our economy is hurting, and while we may want to shop for presents and get a good deal, still, where is the humanity when your fellow man has fallen and lies dying under your feet? I happened to catch a glimpse of the aforementioned Walmart from my train as it hurtled home, and I felt sick inside.
While I’m not saying it should be all about Christ at Christmas time–some Indian holidays have a tendency to veer on the side of materialism too in some cases–at least try not to forget that there is a little more to the season than rampant materialism and discounts. Whether that’s the religious aspect, or at least the aspect of generosity and compassion sans religious connotations, there is more to the holiday than is apparent in the way it is celebrated by many people. Give gifts, but know why you bought them, and why you are giving them to the loved ones in your life.
I go to grad school in the city, but live on Long Island, in a town where I have lived for the past 19 years. Getting to and from the city means (for most Long Islanders) taking the Long Island Railroad (LIRR), a commuter rail system that links the city with most of Long Island, extending as far out east as Montauk on the South Fork, and Greenport on the North Fork. Heaven forbid I have to take the train at rush hour, here is the general scenario:
I get on the train and start walking down the aisle, trying to find the seat. In each car, there are two sets of seats: two-seaters and three-seaters. The general rule, logically, would be that if there is an extra seat and there is someone that needs a seat, the other person would make room for that person to sit down. Not the case on the LIRR. Three seaters are occupied by one person and five bags, two seaters likewise. There are times where I just give up and stand in the vestibule, hoping people get off at Jamaica. Other times, I will march down the aisle, find the person most unwilling to give up their extra seat, and make them make room. That coupled with the businessman who can’t stop cursing on his phone, the Botox-ed fiftysomething drawling on and on about vacuous nonsense, and the teens who are perpetually inebriated and inappropriate, well that pretty much sums it up.
Ok not exactly, that’s just the tip of the iceberg. But why?
Perhaps it is a function of our being so close to New York City, the financial capital of the world, but I can’t speak for Westchester or Rockland counties, or for New Jersey or Connecticut. From what I’ve heard, they don’t quite have quite the same…er…aura that Long Island does.
Perhaps it is a function of our being Hollywood’s little haven. J.Lo has a home in Greenvale, P. Diddy has a pad out in the Hamptons, and the list goes on.
Nonetheless, there’s something that’s causing Long Islanders to be these cookie cutter people. Men have their suits, briefcases, and Blackberries; women have their fake orange tans (or worse yet, leathery skin from real tans), gaudy French-manicured nails, excessive makeup, plastic surgery, Tiffany jewelry, Coach bags (or maybe Prada), and Blackberries. Starbucks and tanning salons are ubiquitous. Materialism is their god, indulgence and excess, their salvation.
Going from high school to college meant a few drastic changes. It meant going from a place where the teacher and the students excitedly talked about getting highlights that weekend, where Prada and Gucci were a way of life, where conformity trumped any other pursuit to a place where…well…people were actually concerned with varied pursuits, new points of view (political and otherwise), and just plain old diversity. Gone was a lot of the racism and homophobia, replaced instead, by a healthy respect for all things unique and different.
Not all of Long Island is racially/ethnically homogenous, but it feels like much of it still is. Certainly Long Island does feel like a conservative stronghold, among the older generations, though the younger generations are slowly starting to break the mold.
Oddly enough, coming from Long Island I didn’t think too much was wrong, but it was when I realized what Long Island’s reputation is on the outside that I realized that there was much that needed to be addressed. “You don’t strike me as a Long Islander,” people would say, and when I asked why I wasn’t, they would often just roll their eyes and laugh congenially. “It’s a good thing,” they would finally add.
Long Island has been my home for the last 20 years of my life, for better or worse. I went to Long Island schools. Among my closest friends are friends from high school. I’ve shopped at Roosevelt Field, gazed out from Montauk Point, and done research at Long Island’s premier labs. There is a connection I have with Long Island that I can’t deny.
Not everyone from Long Island is as I’ve described above, to assume that would be foolish. Really this can be applied to any similar piece of suburbia in the backyard of a large, populous city. This is just the trend that I’ve seen among the majority of Long Islanders, a trend that is disturbing and needs to change. I can’t comfortably consider myself a Long Islander without adding to it, all the baggage and stereotypes that come with the title. I can’t see myself living here in the future, past marriage, past having kids, and beyond. I can’t imagine my kids growing up to be among those often disgruntled, boorish, and self-centered LIRR riders. I don’t want my kids to just settle and conform to the vapid norms, I want them to stand up and take a chance, I want them to think of other people besides themselves.
The world does not revolve around any one of us, none of us is entitled to anything. I don’t care if you are a big shot trader on the floor of the NYSE or a plastic surgeon, netting millions of dollars a year. I don’t care if you own a mansion in the Hamptons, I don’t care if you’ve partied with the Olsen twins. I don’t care if you own stock in Armani, or drink only fine Bordeaux. Get over yourself. Get over yourself and make room for your fellow passenger. Heck, maybe strike up a conversation with them, you’ll be surprised at what you can learn.
Yet there is hope too…
A week ago, I was again, caught in an LIRR train at rush hour, waiting at Penn Station. I was in a three-seater, filled to capacity, with most other seats taken up. It took me a while before I noticed the noticeably pregnant woman standing next to me, her swollen belly creeping into my peripheral vision. I think she might have been standing there for a good five minutes before I even noticed. Clearly no one else noticed either, because she was still standing, and no one had offered her a seat. She must have been seven or eighth months pregnant, and she was still standing. Can you imagine standing with a ten pound load on your abdomen and legs? So I turned around after no one else decided to do anything to ask her if she wanted to sit. She declined, saying she was getting off at the next station (Forest Hills, as it happened to be, which is a ten minute ride). Yet really, I can’t stand for ten minutes with my bag slung over my shoulder. How would she fare for ten minutes, standing with a living load that needs far more protection from the jostling of a train? So I gave up my seat, much to the shock of everyone in the train. Really people? Is it that unusual? So I stood, sandwiched between several people standing in the aisle, and when the woman got up to leave at Forest Hills, I moved aside and let her pass before sitting down. The man standing in front of me also grabbed a seat. What surprised, and moved me, though was that at Forest Hills, another woman had come in weighed down with bags. The man, who had just gotten himself a seat after standing in the aisle from Penn Station, thought better of it and gave up his seat for the woman.
I consider that a little victory in my book. First one person, then the whole LIRR ridership, then who knows? I’m not saying I’m a crusader for all things good, but if I can do something to inspire someone else to do the right thing, then I think I’ve won something.
Conclusion: Long Island is a place of good people who, unfortunately, have lost sight of the more important priorities. Long Island is not all bad, though if someone can direct me to the parts that have not been overrun by corporate ambition and wonton materialism, that would be lovely.



