Intriguing day today.
I taught the first class about trends, and the book lists renewable resources (solar, wind, hydroelectric, natural gas and nuclear energy), genetic engineering, and text messaging among recent trends.
During the second class I gave them a quick history lesson based on Presidents' Day. I asked how many presidents they knew, taught them a few more important ones whose contributions can be directly experienced even now, and explained how much power a president really has. Somewhere in there I began discussing approval ratings and how polls worked.
Later, I was in between loads of laundry when my cell phone rang and I realized it was a polling agency. I was being polled for the first time in my life, even though I've been of voting age for eleven years. They mostly asked me about New York politics, about which I knew next to nothing. Even so, they did ask me a little about national politics, my approval of the president and his health care reform, and if I supported subsidies for renewable energy resources, such as solar, wind, hydroelectric, natural gas and nuclear.
The poll was very long, perhaps fifteen minutes, but completed just in time for me to get my laundry. As I pulled the load out of the dryer, a young man next to me was making strange stressed out faces, indicating he was bothered by something. Luckily, his expression hinted that he expected I would agree with him about whatever was stressing him, as opposed to being the reason he was stressed. I removed my headphones, and he began complaining about how rude business employees are in New York City. Apparently he had asked if the dryers I was about to empty were available, and he had gotten an annoyed, rude reply from a laundromat worker. It was a little awkward because I was just rolling up my clothes and getting ready to go, but he kept going, and I let him vent about the whole city and how businesses act like they are doing you a favor by selling you something when in reality you are doing them a favor because you could easily go somewhere else to buy what you want, yet they still treat you like nothing anyway.
Soon he moved on to the whole New York City syndrome: no matter where you come from, when you move here you start walking fast with self-importance, trying to beat everyone else to the punch, and getting sucked into this "be a hard tough New Yorker" role-play that affects everyone. "Even the people who move here from somewhere totally different become like that!" I considered that point heavily. I've been back four months, and although I am adapting and inherently assimilating to some degree, lately I feel like I have been tapping into a larger energy that transcends this city and everything anybody supposed it could be.
Then he put on a humorous display of people running too fast. I admitted that I like to walk fast and run up stairs anyway, so I probably was guilty of that, but I knew what he meant.
"Everybody only looks out for themselves," I interjected.
"Yeah. Nobody helps anybody. But if you do something for someone, it comes back to you ten times over! I'm serious. The universe knows what's going on and inside, in here, you're in the right place, and if you do something, anything, good for other people, it comes back ten times over. You will get helped ten times more than just that one little thing you did for someone else." He was very passionate about this point.
While he talked I realized just how strange this was that he just started talking to me in the number one place (besides the subway) where everybody avoids speech and minds their own business, yet it made perfect sense, because he, like me, was sick of it. I realized God was talking to me through the voice of a stranger, and that this was no accident. I was structuring his life and he was structuring mine.
As we walked out I asked him his name. "Zo," he said, shaking my hand.
"Ben."
"I'm not sure if you were supposed to receive this message or believe it--" he began, but I cut him off.
"I've been to India, China, lived in California. I know what you mean, and I believe it too."
He said, "I think you just smiled at the right time or something and that's why it came to you."
Then I went home and cooked food that I don't think came from genetically modified methods, but it's hard to tell sometimes. Then I paid my taxes, making today a very citizen-themed day for sure. Even better, I am getting a large refund, the best part of having a low income.
After that my friend text messaged me a lot, which is a rare occurrence, because I'm not really a verbose guy when it comes to texting. Then again, in class earlier that day we had lauded the advantage of texting as a free way to communicate, so I guess everything fit together beautifully, yet again.
I taught the first class about trends, and the book lists renewable resources (solar, wind, hydroelectric, natural gas and nuclear energy), genetic engineering, and text messaging among recent trends.
During the second class I gave them a quick history lesson based on Presidents' Day. I asked how many presidents they knew, taught them a few more important ones whose contributions can be directly experienced even now, and explained how much power a president really has. Somewhere in there I began discussing approval ratings and how polls worked.
Later, I was in between loads of laundry when my cell phone rang and I realized it was a polling agency. I was being polled for the first time in my life, even though I've been of voting age for eleven years. They mostly asked me about New York politics, about which I knew next to nothing. Even so, they did ask me a little about national politics, my approval of the president and his health care reform, and if I supported subsidies for renewable energy resources, such as solar, wind, hydroelectric, natural gas and nuclear.
The poll was very long, perhaps fifteen minutes, but completed just in time for me to get my laundry. As I pulled the load out of the dryer, a young man next to me was making strange stressed out faces, indicating he was bothered by something. Luckily, his expression hinted that he expected I would agree with him about whatever was stressing him, as opposed to being the reason he was stressed. I removed my headphones, and he began complaining about how rude business employees are in New York City. Apparently he had asked if the dryers I was about to empty were available, and he had gotten an annoyed, rude reply from a laundromat worker. It was a little awkward because I was just rolling up my clothes and getting ready to go, but he kept going, and I let him vent about the whole city and how businesses act like they are doing you a favor by selling you something when in reality you are doing them a favor because you could easily go somewhere else to buy what you want, yet they still treat you like nothing anyway.
Soon he moved on to the whole New York City syndrome: no matter where you come from, when you move here you start walking fast with self-importance, trying to beat everyone else to the punch, and getting sucked into this "be a hard tough New Yorker" role-play that affects everyone. "Even the people who move here from somewhere totally different become like that!" I considered that point heavily. I've been back four months, and although I am adapting and inherently assimilating to some degree, lately I feel like I have been tapping into a larger energy that transcends this city and everything anybody supposed it could be.
Then he put on a humorous display of people running too fast. I admitted that I like to walk fast and run up stairs anyway, so I probably was guilty of that, but I knew what he meant.
"Everybody only looks out for themselves," I interjected.
"Yeah. Nobody helps anybody. But if you do something for someone, it comes back to you ten times over! I'm serious. The universe knows what's going on and inside, in here, you're in the right place, and if you do something, anything, good for other people, it comes back ten times over. You will get helped ten times more than just that one little thing you did for someone else." He was very passionate about this point.
While he talked I realized just how strange this was that he just started talking to me in the number one place (besides the subway) where everybody avoids speech and minds their own business, yet it made perfect sense, because he, like me, was sick of it. I realized God was talking to me through the voice of a stranger, and that this was no accident. I was structuring his life and he was structuring mine.
As we walked out I asked him his name. "Zo," he said, shaking my hand.
"Ben."
"I'm not sure if you were supposed to receive this message or believe it--" he began, but I cut him off.
"I've been to India, China, lived in California. I know what you mean, and I believe it too."
He said, "I think you just smiled at the right time or something and that's why it came to you."
Then I went home and cooked food that I don't think came from genetically modified methods, but it's hard to tell sometimes. Then I paid my taxes, making today a very citizen-themed day for sure. Even better, I am getting a large refund, the best part of having a low income.
After that my friend text messaged me a lot, which is a rare occurrence, because I'm not really a verbose guy when it comes to texting. Then again, in class earlier that day we had lauded the advantage of texting as a free way to communicate, so I guess everything fit together beautifully, yet again.
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