Review: Tapped

Tapped  is a documentary about the bottled water industry.

Tapped starts in a small town in Maine, where natural springs abound and where Poland Springs (owned by Nestle) has been pumping out water.  This opens the story to popular bottled water brands in America, particularly Poland Springs, Dasani, and Aquafina (produced by Nestle, Coca-Cola, and Pepsi, respectively).  It talks about a wide range of topics during the film, visiting drought-ridden Mississippi where bottlers still pump water while the state thirsts; a town on the edge of a bottle-making factory, where cancer rates are higher than average, due to a chemical from the factory; interviews with company representatives, who evade and bureaucratize, smiling uncertainly when they don't have an answer; touching on commercialization and advertising of water; travelling to a small island in the Pacific, where the sand is partially comprised of particles of plastic; and back to the small town in Maine, where local activism and rallies encourage the audience to join the cause.

The results are shocking.  Dangerous chemicals found in bottles – and the water contained in them – go unchecked by the FDA, whose hands are tied and which has no teeth to enforce its rules.  Millions of bottles are littered each year, turning our oceans into plastic soup and our beaches into unofficial landfills.  Bottling companies pump water from drying lakes and rivers, or merely filter municipal tap water and bottle it.

There is not a main character or central story.  The documentary is structured more as an investigation than a story, but that does not make it less interesting.  The subject matter itself, and the many smaller anecdotes associated with it, are interesting enough on their own without a central character.  Bottled water is such a part of everyday life that hearing the unpleasant truth about it will rivet viewers to the screen.

One of the strong points of the documentary was the repeated motif of a film reel holding newspaper headlines.  Relevant headlines to whatever the documentary was covering at the moment would occasionally pop up in a film reel, effortlessly gaining credibility through clever use of the text track.

The A-Roll and B-Roll in the documentary were balanced beautifully, with interviews and b-roll playing off each other to complement the narration, which was the backbone of the film.  The narration could have stood by itself as a story, but it would not have been as good without the visuals and the text track.

Tapped is an eye-opening expository documentary that will forever change how you look at bottled water.  75 minutes.  4 stars.

Rowing Crew: Part 2

"All hands on the Trailblazer!"
"Are all the oars down?"
"Up and over heads, ready, up!"
"Weighenough!"
"Hurry up on the dock!"
"Coach, my coxbox isn't working."

Part two will be a run-through of a typical on-the-water practice!

The bell rings at 3:00.  Those who got out at 2:10, already changed, head outside to the one school bus parked perpendicular to the rest and on the other side of the parking lot.  Those who get out at 3:00 dash to the bus before it leaves, planning to change once at the boathouse.  The bus is always too full.  The last few to arrive are relegated to a helpful parent or senior rower's car.  After a half-hour bus ride full of the craziest conversations, we arrive at the boathouse.

The boathouse is at a park in an industrial town.  The river goes under a bridge before coming to a wide, shallow area perfect for launching kayaks, canoes, skullers and shells.  The boathouse itself has a small bathroom for both sexes, an office, and the large room often referred to by itself as "the boathouse."  Several long, tall racks fit six Eights on each side.  To reach the top racks, we use industrial lifts (think Genie brand).

This isn't our boathouse, but it is similar.  We even have a few boats that look exactly like those yellow ones.

When we arrive at the boathouse, those who get out at 3:00 from school go to change in the bathrooms.  Once ready, we run to and from the gate of the park as a warmup.  Then we check the whiteboard for the lineups of the day.  Thanks to variable turnout, the lineups change from day to day.  The coaches often have to get creative.  Several rowers double as coxswains, and a few bisweptuals flip sides day to day.  We're always short a few ports, it seems.  On the whiteboards, the rowers, their seats, the coxswains, the oars, and the name of each boat are put into a handy reference for the day.

Rowers get oars from their places at the back of the boathouse.  Usually we need all the oars.  Twice this season we've been short a few oars, and the rowers of a four have to stay on land.  The oars are in sets, by handles.  Some have orange tape around them near the blades; some have purple wrappings around the handles; most are identified by the tape just above the handles.  Each boat has a set.  Oars are propped up on a railing overlooking the river and a few feet from the dock.  The sets are together in clumps, and if someone does it right they are put in pairs, one starboard and one port, within the clumps.

Coxswains shout the name of the boat they're coxing to get their rowers' attentions.  Our eights are the Trailblazer, the Blazing Paddles, the Tsunami, and the Blitzkrieg.  It's common for boats to have "fierce" names like that, sort of like it's common to have "fierce" mascots like tigers, eagles, or bears.  Then again, like some mascots are socks or rockets, some boats have more pleasant names, like the Charlie, one of our fours.

"All hands on the Blazing Paddles!"  And eight rowers walk to the boathouse, where we may or may not have to wait for another team to get their boats out first.  Two rowers get the lifts, one in the bow and one in the stern.  All eight carry the boat on our shoulders down to a ramp, where we have to go over heads due to its narrow width.  Often the dock, which can only hold two boats at a time, has a line of boats coming up the ramp and across the parking lot to the boathouse.  Waiting while holding the boat is annoying, as we hold it at waist height ("Down to waists, ready, down!") and it tires out our arms.  

Meanwhile, the coaches are setting up small, simple motorboats filled with life jackets, a canoe paddle, and a megaphone.  Extra rowers get sent to the launches, as the boats are called.  Rowers in the launch effectively get half a day off, and switch in sometime during the row.  Usually.  Sometimes the coaches just never meet up with the right boat, and a rower gets a whole day off.

Eventually we get the boat into the water.  The coxswain calls one side to get oars, the other side to get oarlocks.  ("Ports get oars!")  The oarlocks, as you remember from my previous post, hold the oar in place.  The side that stays behind unlocks and opens the oarlocks, puts their shoes in the boat, grabs waterbottles, and etc.  The side that goes to get oars grabs a pair, one for themselves and one for their pair partner.  Once all the oars are in place (with the oars that would be out on the water pulled as close to the dock as possible, to keep it balanced), the coxswain steps in ("Hold for the coxswain!").  He/she plugs the coxbox in and tests it to see if everyone can hear.  By now, everyone is standing next to their seats, with their shoes off and in the boat already.  The oars that go out to the water are pushed out ("Ports, oars out on the water!").  The coxswain calls again: "One foot in, and, in!"  At the coxswain's call, all eight rowers step into the boat, one foot at a time.  Velcro and shoelaces are tightened, oars held, shoes stowed away.  

"Count down from bow when ready!"  
"Bow!" 
"Two!" 
"Three!" 
"Four!" 
"Five!" 
"Six!" 
"Seven!" 
"Eight!"
"Push off the dock, and lean away!"

Leaning away from the dock to balance the oars still on it, all eight rowers push off with their hands.  This is usually complemented by two rowers on the dock side pushing with their oars; in our scenario, where the ports' oars are out to the water, the starboards' would be dockside, so Bow and Seven would push off.

Bow pair usually rows the boat out to the main part of the river.  Once we're all situated, we warm up.  Our usual warmup is the pit drill, rowing by fours.  "Bow four, arms only, row."  After about twenty strokes, "In two strokes, arms and back, one, two."  Another twenty.  "In two strokes, half slides, one, two."  Another twenty strokes.  "In two strokes, full slides, one, two."  Another twenty strokes, "And weighenough."  Then the fours switch.

Next comes an hour and a half of rowing, based on the workouts the coaches told the coxswains earlier.  Today, in our hypothetical practice, the coach wants us to work on technique and keeping together.  We row all eight for a while to get used to each other, then start some drills.  There are far more boats than coaches, so the varsity girls usually get left to our own devices while the novices and boys get help from the coaches.  The coxswain is effectively our coach for the practice.

After a while of rowing, we hang out at a common turning-around wide area, about 1.5 Kilometers downriver.  The coxswain, who has a sense of humor, is bantering with Three seat, who is jokingly complaining.
"I like coxing soooo much better than rowing, [coxswain]!  I'm so tired and I like bossing you guys around."
The boat laughs.
"Yeah, [Three]," says Eight, "I'm sure you do."
"I do!  It's so much fun."
"You wanna cox?  I haven't rowed in ages, not since sophomore year.  Let's switch and see if the coach notices when he comes by!"
"Yes!"

After some discussion, gunnel-running is arranged.  Two holds Three's oar.  Three starts toward the stern, crouched, doing her best to avoid oars and to keep the boat from tipping over.  She sits in Eight's lap while the Coxswain, jean-clad and clutching her phone, walks down the boat in a similar manner to the empty seat.  She situates herself, and Three takes the microphone and speaks into the microphone.  "Awesome!  All right wimps, let's row."

But it doesn't take long to realize that our coxswain has no idea how to row the way we do.  We sit and chat for a while, until the coach checks up on us and immediately notices the switch.

More rowing.  The stress is on the legs, if you row correctly.  Arms, back, shoulders, and abs also get their fair share of soreness.  But that's easy to ignore compared to the blisters forming on palms and the sides of thumbs.

Typical rower hands.  You can see a blister from feathering on the thumb.  I'd venture a guess that this rower is a port, since (s)he feathers with the right hand.

And yet, through the pain, it is immense fun.  The click of oarlocks in sync is one of the most beautiful sounds I've ever heard; the only thing that could rival it would be the TARDIS' vworp-vworp noise.  The river, though polluted, is very scenic.  Something about crew requires camaraderie unparalleled in any activity I've ever done.  The little breaks we get and the conversations during them are hilarious and fun.  Even the rowing itself is inexplicably enjoyable, as long as it's not a long power piece of awful terror and horror.  The motion is fluid and natural, and knowing you're getting better and stronger is a lifting feeling.

Finally, we come back to the dock.  Docking is like getting out onto the water, but in reverse.  There are only two changes this time: docking the boat, and cleaning it.  A really good coxswain can dock without incident; unfortunately, ours are still getting the hang of it.  It's difficult to judge the distance to go before turning.  If the boat misses by too much, it takes forever to go sideways to the dock.  If the boat doesn't turn enough and goes at a wrong angle, we could damage the bow ball or, even worse, the skeg.

Carrying the boat is far more exhausting after a hard row than before.

The coxswain runs ahead to grab boat slings, one for the bow and one for the stern.  Rowers set the boat into the slings and disperse: some get oars, some grab the hose and sponges to rinse off the boat, a couple run off to have a moment's rest and conversation.

When everyone's back and done with what they need to do, the rowers pick the boat up and put it back in the boathouse.

Finally.  Everyone's exhausted.  Sometimes a coach will pull the rowers of one boat over for a talk.  Sometimes the whole team meets up on a hill, next to the parking lot and only a hundred meters from a railroad (Yep.  Industrial town, remember?), to stretch and cool down.  More often, we just head straight to the bus and relax.

The bus takes us back to school, where parents wait in minivans and Priuses to take us home.

There you have it!  One full rowing practice.  Don't forget, the comments thread is open to queries and commentaries.  I get a notification every time someone comments, so I will get back to you quickly.

Sexism in the Media

Sorry folks, but part 2 of the Crew post will not be taking place right now, as I have other things to write about and crew's not in season.  But you will indeed be privvy to all of our rowing secrets! Just give me until next week.

In the meantime, I would like to discuss something a lot heavier: sexism.  For those of you who've been living under a rock for the past 40 years, but sexism is discrimination against a person based on their sex or gender.  Again, talk to Becca about the subtleties between gender and sex, but as this is really about how the victim is perceived, there's a grey area.

I decided to talk about this after reading this article about the editor-in-chief of the Niagra Falls Reporter who apparently will not allow the newspaper to publish "reviews of films where women are alpha and men are beta."  He then tried to defend it, but the original email is appalling.

Let me say one thing first: sexism is so entrenched in human society, entire languages would have to be remodeled to break free from it.  Does this make it ok? No.

Another thing: there are many views on how to solve this issue, and it is not within my power or desire to judge such views.  I am just here to point out blatant sexism in media, Hollywood especially if I can, to prove this misogynistic editor false.

Now, I don't have much time, so I'm going to employ a simplified (and remarkably accurate, for something so simplified) way of measuring female presence in a movie.

There is a test, called the Bechdel Test, to see if movies are sexist or not.  To pass, there has to be a conversation between two named female characters that is not about men.  Simple, right?  Yes.  Easy to pass, right?  Apparently not, for Hollywood.

To sum up the video linked to above, of the nine movies nominated for the 2011 "Best Picture" Academy Award, only two clearly pass.  Two more technically pass, due to one brief interaction per movie with no significance to the plot in either, but still have next to no female presence in them, so I'm not going to count them.  (Of the two grey-area passes, the first movie, Hugo, has a five-second scene that passes; the second, Midnight in Paris, has one that also involves male characters.)

Even Pixar films, by far my favorite group of movies, fail more often than pass.  None of the three Toy Story films passes; neither do Monsters, Inc., Finding Nemo, Cars, Ratatouille, Wall-E, Up, or Cars 2.  The only Pixar films that pass are A Bug's Life, The Incredibles and Brave.

I'm going to break a major rule of Tumblr, and mention it outside of Tumblr.  A major section of Tumblr is devoted to "social justice" blogging, determined to fight racism, sexism, cissexism, homophobia, ableism, and related injustices.  I don't consider myself a social justice blogger, but I do reblog occasional commentaries and discussions that I think merit view.

Of eight posts tagged "sexism" on my tumblr blog, I would like to quote six.

"'Women are more likely to be attracted to personality and men are more likely to be attracted to physical appearance'

[W]oah[,] maybe that’s because we teach women to see men as people and we teach men to see women as objects"  I'll come back to this later.

"Being a feminist doesn't mean suddenly no longer liking problematic things.  If you stopped liking everything that was sexist in media and entertainment there would be no media or entertainment left.  Being a feminist, to me, is being aware of what it is you're liking, and of its problematic aspects."

The third is not very good for quoting, but inhabitants of the internet will likely have seen it by now: the two-panel comic where a guy approves of another guy wearing a shirt of a comic book character, but when a girl walks by wearing a similar shirt, he demands to hear her credibility as a comic book geek.  Skepticism based on gender?  I think I call that sexism.

A fourth is a side-by-side of two Angry Birds Halloween costumes: one for men, one for women.  The one for men is a round fabric representation of the ubiquitous red "angry bird."  The one for women is a red cocktail-length dress with the bird face on it, with black tights and, of course, high heels.

Perhaps the scariest - and most credible - is from a book called The Equality Illusion by Kat Banyard.  "Princeton University psychologist Susan Fiske took brain scans of heterosexual men while they looked at sexualised images of women wearing bikinis. She found that the part of their brains that became activated was pre-motor - areas that usually light up when people anticipate using tools. The men were reacting to the images as if the women were objects they were going to act on. Particularly shocking was the discovery that the participants who scored highest on tests of hostile sexism were those most likely to deactivate the part of the brain that considers other people’s intentions (the medial prefrontal cortex) while looking at the pictures. These men were responding to images of the women as if they were non-human."

The last, and most disappointing to me, is the straightforward statement of the blatant sexism in one of my favorite television shows, Doctor Who.  When the show was restarted in 2005, the writers were pretty good about writing realistic, strong characters of many skin colors, sexes, sexual orientations, and the like.  But when Steven Moffat took over in 2010, that pretty much flew out the window.  The only female characters you could call "strong" are all from the same mold: she can fight, she's sassy and sexy, but she has a soft side that really translates to "Save me, Doctor!"  I enjoy the existences of River Song and Amelia Pond as much as anyone, but I can't ignore the sexism that went into the writing of their characters.  The worst was shortly before the start of season 7, when a controversial promotional picture was released of an unconscious, makeup-wearing Amy Pond, the female lead of the show for seasons 5-7, carried in the arms of the Doctor while explosions and evil Daleks fill the background.  This did not go down well among the fans.  One blogger put it best when analyzing a snippet of dialogue from Amy's debut episode:

"Rory: How can he be real? He was never real! It was just a game. We were- we were kids. You made me dress up as him!

"Right here, with this quote, I knew the characterization of Amy Pond was going to go seriously awry.

"Kids love to play pretend, don’t they?

"Moffat was a Who fan as a kid, right? I bet he played Doctor Who pretend. Yet somehow I don’t think he assigned the role of Doctor to others. I mean, the Doctor is the hero! You don’t assign that role to another kid! You fight for your right to be the Doctor! Maybe you take turns with who gets to be him. Maybe there’s three Doctors running around at the same time and it gets a big squiggly. But whatever you do, you don’t freely abdicate the hero role.

"Unless you’re a girl.

Apparently.

"Steven Moffat could not conceive of a little Amelia Pond who would look at the magical Doctor and his blue box and want to be him. He assumed she would want to be with him instead.

"Actual little girls, however, are well-versed in this problem. I know I had a lot of contradictory feelings about Indiana Jones. (“He’s so dreamy!” “I want to be an archaeologist when I grow up!” “Mom, can I have a whip for my birthday?”) Most of the heroes- the characters it’s most fun to imagine being- are dudes. If you also happen to find some of those dudes attractive, you’re going to develop the “I want to be you/I want to be with you” duality. This is something that straight guys like Moffat have not needed to deal with, as characters for them were nicely divided into a binary of those they want to be (male heroes) and those they want to be with (the hot ladies male heroes get).

"So when Moffat created Amelia he projected this binary on to her, but reversed it. She’s a girl! The Doctor is a dude! Obviously she wants to be with him! I’m not even sure he realizes it’s possible for Amelia to want to be the Doctor. Yes, if someone asked him directly if he thought little girls wanted to grow up to be the Doctor he’d probably agree, but the point is it didn’t occur to him when he was actually writing her character.

"And so she becomes The Girl Who Waited, waited for the hero’s return, and not The Girl Who Dreamed, dreamed of being the hero.

"Amelia Pond, drawing Doctor fanart in crayon- are you our on-screen fangirl cypher? Dreaming of what male creators think we want: romance! With an awkward, unnecessary love triangle! Uh, girls love that, right?

"Enter the series 7 promo still.

"I look at this and think- what fantasy does this appeal to? That’s no hero shot, not of Amy Pond.

"The girl who waited, carried away.

"It’s everything that’s been there from the beginning, that we’ve tried to put aside. The misconception of Amy Pond. As the love interest, the sidekick, and not the hero. In the hero’s arms and not the hero.

"Where is the image of Amy Pond, hero? Why can’t that sell the show? Why a damsel in distress shot?

"Ah, but we don’t want to confuse the little boys, the mini-Moffats, by making them want to be her, instead of just be with her. How weird that would be!

"So Amy will stay as she is, in the Doctor’s arms, safe."

And another blogger replied to that:

"While I love Amy Pond a lot, and while she is more heroic, seeing as she saved Eleven [*] and Rory a BUNCH of times over two seasons, I found myself agreeing with a lot of this. Moffatt’s Who is problematic in all the important (to me) respects, which I could ignore when Eleven, Amy, and Rory first started because I loved them all so much, but it’s becoming more and more obvious that it’s going to get to the point where I can’t ignore it and just enjoy the show anymore. He keeps [expletive] up the amazing women I fell in love with and nothing about the seventh season makes me want to watch it.

"Starting with this graphic, which fundamentally misunderstands Amy’s relationship to the Doctor. She isn’t his damsel in distress, she isn’t his sidekick, she’s his equal, his conscience, and, at times, his savior. She should be walking beside him, not being carried by him. This is why the graphic upset me so much, because that’s not the Amy and Eleven I had fallen in love with."

*"Eleven" refers to the eleventh regeneration of the Doctor; if you like, the eleventh actor to play the Doctor.

In conclusion, sexism is an integral part of our daily lives.  It is especially prevalent in the media, where we're still trying to get the biggest blockbusters to have women as protagonists, where there has always been a male hero/female romantic interest dynamic, where "Conventional TV wisdom has it that girls will watch shows about boys, but boys won't watch shows about girls."  (Source: NPR)  Well, boys don't have to watch shows about girls, because every genre will have shows starring boys, and they can always find something about a character of their own gender.  Girls can't be so picky.

Well, what do I recommend?  Some high-quality movies/television that is centered around girls.

Movies:

Brave.  It centers around a Scottish princess who just wants to "stay single and let my hair flow in the wind as I ride through the glen firing arrows into the sunset," as her father puts it.  It also focuses on the relationship she has with her mother.  A heartwarming, funny, intelligent, action-packed, beautifully-animated film.  

Tangled.  A refreshing take on the classic story of Rapunzel: this time, she takes her fate into her own hands.  When a handsome rogue climbs into her tower to hide on her 18th birthday, Rapunzel seizes her chance. She knocks him out with her signature frying pan, tricks her "mother" into going on a three-day trip, then persuades the Aladdin-esque thief to be her guide to fulfill her lifetime dream.  They have crazy shenanigans, a couple of music numbers, and a pet chameleon.  What's not to love?

Television:

The Legend of Korra.  I've mentioned it before, but I'll say it again: Korra is awesome.  The story is a spin-off of the wildly popular Avatar: the Last Airbender (Avatar: the Legend of Aang in some countries), which takes place in a world where some people are born with the ability to "bend" one of the four classical elements: water, earth, fire, or air.  Korra is the Avatar, the only one who can master all four elements and bring balance to the world.  She's headstrong and fearless, and can't wait to take on her duty as the Avatar - she just has to learn Airbending first.  Add a steampunk-1920s-Shanghai-meets-Manhattan metropolis, a popular sport utilizing the already martial-arts-centered bending and a devious scheme that threatens all benders, and you've got yourself a compelling action series.

Kim Possible.  "Dad, I'm off to save the world!" "On a school night?" "I'll be back by midnight!" Kim Possible may be marketed towards young children but it is probably the best example of a lack of sexism in any mainstream media.  In this show, the lead is the girl - a good student, excellent athlete, and all-around good person - and the sidekick is her dorky guy friend.  Kim Possible saves the world on a regular basis, and the only competent villain she faces is her shadow archetype, Shego.  Kim uses her cheerleading skills, high-tech gear, and sheer awesomeness to keep the bad guys on the run, but she still has to deal with normal high school problems, like dating and homework.

Rizzoli & Isles.  This is for those too dignified to watch animated shows.  A crime drama focusing on a detective (Jane Rizzoli) and a medical examiner (Dr. Maura Isles), who investigate crimes in Boston.  I enjoy the dynamic between savvy, tomboyish Rizzoli and reserved, bookish Isles - they always make me laugh.

I realize that media is getting better about sexism.  But we still have a long way to go.  Suggestions?  Critiques?  Favorite female-centered movies and TV shows?  I'd be happy to put them in - right now I probably don't have many of the best examples, just my favorites.

Yellow Leaves, Grey Water, Blue Jackets

This is my "Capture the Fall" independent film project, titled Yellow Leaves, Grey Water, Blue Jackets.  I really like the way it turned out.

I filmed this all on my dad's iPhone, and edited it in iMovie.  The music is from freemusicarchive.org.

Filming was so much fun.  I stopped by Heyser Farms and the local park on the way home from a birthday party.  Dad just pulled over, handed me his phone, and I filmed a few seconds of fall scenery.  

The really fun part started at home, when I got my sisters to help.  They were all too eager to be filmed raking leaves, though Suzanne originally wanted to go in bare feet and no jacket.  Not only did I get a few nice shots of raking leaves, but they kept suggesting new ideas that eventually became the backbone of my project.  Katie wanted to be filmed climbing a tree, Suzanne wanted to be filmed jumping into a pile of leaves, and I suggested the shot where Katie runs down the hill onto the swingset.  When Suzanne jumped into the pile of leaves, I stopped recording - only to have Katie jump in after her!  Then Suzanne started throwing leaves, and I just had to film it.  The original clip is 40 seconds long, but I only kept a few seconds in the video.

Katie helped me film a few staged shots, and then it was time to get editing.

iMovie was really weird, and it seemed to be made for a less advanced editor than a high school film student - which was annoying - but eventually I got it to work.  The simplicity of the project kept the dumbing down of the program from being a problem.

I ended up having to cut out a few clips that I was going to have, just to fit into the time limit and because they didn't fit the overall theme of the video.

Music was annoying at first, as ccmixter was ridiculously unhelpful, but freemusicarchive was much nicer for finding wordless classical music.  I like the bittersweet tone to this song, and the piano is lovely.

I also made a short blooper reel for this video, mostly involving their leaf fight, but also a couple of mishaps from filming.  Included is a guitar song under the "comedy" tag of freemusicarchive.

Enjoy both videos!

Rowing Crew: Part 1

"Oh yeah, I'm on crew."
"Oh, like stage crew?  What play is it?"
"No, not stage crew.  Rowing crew.  The crew team.  As in, boats and oars and such."
"Oooh.  I didn't know we had a rowing team."
This is another conversation I've had many times.

It's an Olympic sport, one that this year's American team won.  It was featured in "The Social Network," when the main character was a coxswain.  It has its own movie, "Backwards."  But no one seems to know what crew is unless they have a friend on a rowing team.

Three days a week, I hop on a bus after school, filled with my teammates of all skill levels and both sexes.  (I do say sexes and not genders here, Becca, but in this particular case they are synonymous.)  We head down to a local river, take out our 64-foot-long, 2-foot-wide boats, and row.  Well, it's not quite that simple - and I'm going to give you all the inside details of a day of rowing, and a regatta.

First, I will need to explain the mechanics of a boat, also called a Shell.  It's called this for its hollow, thin, hard qualities that are necessary for rowers to be safe and to still be able to carry the boat between the water and the boathouse.

We'll go from bow to stern  in the average boat: a port-rigged Eight.  As you can see from the diagram, there are eight rowers and the sternmost rower (aka Eight seat or Stroke seat)'s oar is to port.  Hence, port-rigged Eight.  With me so far? No? Yes? Good.

Just in case you didn't know, this is important for the rest of this post: bow = front, stern = back, port = left, starboard = right.  We say port, starboard, bow, and stern because rowers sit backwards and what is left to coxswains is right to rowers, etc.  So when I say "We'll go from bow to stern," it means "we'll go from front to back."  Got it?  Yes?  Good.

The first seat from bow to stern is called Bow seat.  This is to avoid confusion that may arise from saying "have One seat take a stroke":  

Ok, one seat, but that could mean any seat.  Which one?  OHH that one seat.  Right. 

"Bow seat" is much clearer.  Bow seat is a starboard rower, meaning his/her oar is out to the starboard side of the boat.  He/she will require a starboard oar.  Bow seat follows Two seat.  When I say "follow," I mean Bow seat watches Two seat's rhythm and matches it as closely as possible, going to each position of the stroke at the same time.  The key to rowing is keeping together, "in sync," if you will.

The next seat is Two seat.  Two is a port, meaning his/her oar goes to the - you guessed it! - port side of the boat.  He/she will require a - altogether now - port oar.  Two seat follows Three seat.  

Detecting a pattern?  Good, because that's exactly how it goes all the way down the boat.  Odd numbers (including Bow) are starboard, even numbers are ports.  You would think it would make the boat hard to steer, with all of the starboard oars behind the port ones, and indeed it does look off-balance at first glance.  But the placement of all the starboard oars behind each one's port partner does absolutely nothing to the steering.  This is because the extra power to port in the stern is counterbalanced by the extra power to starboard in the bow.  It all works out nicely.

That reminds me, rowers/oars/seats are organized by pair: Bow/2, 3/4, 5/6, 7/Stroke.  Bow/2 is also called "bow pair," and 7/Stroke is also called "stern pair."  If you have Bow-4 rowing, that's "bow four"; 5-Stroke, "stern four."  Bow-6 is "bow six," 3-Stroke is "stern six."  To have people in the middle rest, the coxswain would call combinations of these: "stern four and bow pair, row" or "bow four and stern pair, row" or simply "five and six, sit out."

Likewise, the other rower in a pair is the first rower's "pair partner."  For example, I am five seat, so six is my pair partner.  I am six's pair partner.  

Back to the tour of the boat!  Eight seat is also known as Stroke seat.  Rowers sit backwards in the boat, so to the rowers, Stroke is in the front.  Stroke seat sets the pace or rhythm - the stroke - for everyone in the boat.

Another useful diagram!  These are the stages of the stroke. The catch and the finish, aka the release,  are points, while the drive and recovery, aka the slide, are processes.  The entire time going from the catch to the finish is the drive, and the entire time going from the finish to the catch is the recovery/slide.

But wait, why and how are that diagram's stick figure's legs extending?  Rowing is with your arms, right?  Wrong.  Rowers' feet are strapped into a shoe stretcher low in the boat.  Our seats slide on tracks on a platform a little higher up.

The only things that are relevant here are the seat and the shoes/stretcher.  Come back to this later, though, if you need to for other parts of the boat.

In this picture, you can see how the shoes are set low, under the platform where the seat is.  Going back to the stroke diagram, you can see how the feet stay still while the seat slides.  This allows rowers to take advantage of humans' strongest muscles for the drive - our leg muscles, which work constantly against the force of gravity and are biologically the strongest voluntary muscles in the human body.  The main force comes from the legs, then a little bit from the back as we swing into the release, and just less than that from the arms.  People seem to think that rowing is all upper body strength - "Oh, you row?  You must have really strong arms!" - but really, it's all in the legs.  Arms are just there to hold the oar and to feather.

Feathering is the rotation of the oar to minimize wind resistance.  At the catch, the oars drop into the water, squared against the surface of the water to get maximum force.  They stay that way through the drive, while the oars are in the water.  At the release, when the oars come out of the water, rowers rotate the oars to parallel the water as we come up the recovery, or "slide."  Going up the slide, rowers gradually square up the blades of the oars, finding the right balance between minimum wind resistance and minimum delay at the catch.  Finally, at the catch, the blade is completely square again to restart the cycle.  That entire process is called feathering.  There's also rowing on the square, which is for warming up and brand-new novices only, because it causes a lot of splashing, wind resistance, and makes it harder to row in general.

One more note: feathering is with the inside hand only.  The outside hand lets the oar rotate inside its grip.  If the outside hand rotates as much as the inside hand, the outside wrist will get too tired too quickly.  It's hard at first to feather with one hand, but it's much easier in the long run.

At last, we've reached the stern!  The coxswain sits in the stern, and does not row.  Instead, he/she steers the boat and gives directions to the rowers via the coxswain's microphone.

This is what a coxswain looks like.  See her microphone?  It stays on her head using a sort of elastic headband.  The wire connects the microphone to a Cox Box, which you can sort of see near her feet.  The Cox Box gives lots of useful information, like the number of strokes per minute (called a stroke rating) and often will have a stopwatch built in.  It also sends the coxswain's words from the microphone to speakers all down the boat so that the rowers in the bow can hear him/her without any screaming required.  In this picture you can also see the ropes that control the steering.  These, like all nautical ropes, are called "sheets."  They control the skeg, a little fin under the boat in the stern that steers the entire boat.

In some Fours (four-rower boats, lighter, slower, and more maneuverable, generally reserved for slightly more experienced rowers), especially more modern ones, the coxswain sits in the bow, in a cavity that allows him/her more leg room.  These boats, with the coxswain seat in the bow, are called bow-loaded fours, and are only for boats where the coxswain can trust his/her rowers completely.  Coxswains in bow-loaders can't see the rowers to critique them, so such boats are generally reserved for rowers who don't need much critique, i.e. varsity rowers.  Different coxswains prefer bow- or stern-loaded boats depending on preference, though bow-loaded boats are always less cramped for the coxswain.  Eights are always stern-loaded.

There you have it! A tour of a crew boat, the stroke, and some other useful basic knowledge.

Next week, I'll give a run-down of a typical practice, then the following week, I'll do a piece on regattas.  This three-part series is in honor of the end of fall season, marked for our team by today's Head of the Occoquan Regatta.  The boat I was in came in 9th out of 19.  First half is pretty good, considering that most of the teams are clubs that get more funding, more practice, and better equipment than our school club team gets.

To finish off, I'm going to embed a link to a video from this season's first regatta, and I'll tell you that I'm in the boat that passes by at 5:40.  I already told you I'm 5 seat; use your new knowledge from this post to see if you can find me.

My Dog

Today I will talk about one of my favorite subjects: my dog.

I will try to make my explanations as clear as possible, but if you're not a dog person, you may not entirely understand the beginning of this post.  Bear with me.

Her name is Tybee, after Tybee Island, a little barrier Island off the coast of Savannah, Georgia.  She was part of an accidental litter when a friend's Brittany Spaniel and English Shorthair Pointer had puppies.  (They thought the mom, the spaniel, was too young and the dad, the pointer, was too old, so they didn't bother keeping them separated.  Thank god they didn't, because otherwise I wouldn't have my dog!)  

Above: Two Brittany Spaniels.  The one on the right has the color of my dog, but the one on the left has the face shape.  Imagine these two with short hair.

Below: An English Pointer.  If this dog had a few more brown splotches like the one on the shoulder, it would look remarkably like Tybee.

 

She is between the sizes of the two breeds, weighing in at about 45 pounds.  She has the build, coloring, and face of the spaniel, but the hair texture and tail of the pointer.  Her size and personality are a mix of the two dogs.

Below: Two pictures of Tybee.  She is one of my favorite subjects for photography, because she looks adorable and doesn't complain when I take her picture.

Tybee was the oldest of the litter and the only girl.  The litter all had puppy names, temporary names given until the dogs go to a different home.  Tybee's was "Squeaky" because she made little squeaking noises all the time.  Now, however, she rarely makes any noise, preferring to get my family's and my attention through other means - like jumping up onto us, nosing our hands, or sitting next to the thing she wants.

We probably should've taken the hint from when she was the first of her litter to escape the pen they were kept in, or possibly from the question mark-shaped splotch on her back, but she has always been a remarkably curious, adventurous, and intelligent dog.  When she was a very small puppy, we put in gates around the three entrances to the kitchen, where we kept her.  One didn't open.  She learned how to open another, by jumping up to it, pushing her front paws on the top latch, and leaning forward, then nosing it up to get it out of the bottom latch.  At the other, we accidentally taught her a trick.  When we wanted to leave via that gate, Tybee would often go to the gate in hopes of a walk, blocking our way through.  So, we would say, "Excuse me, Tybee."  While saying this, we would continue to walk towards it, Tybee would take the hint, and walk backwards away from the gate.  Eventually, without even realizing it, we had her trained to walk backwards out of the way - out of any way - at "Excuse me."

Unfortunately, this curiosity extends to anything outside, and she will make a run for it any time a door to the outside is left open.  Despite our best efforts to train her, and her obedience to Mom and Dad while indoors, she will not come when she's called back from her escapades.  And, as I will explain below, catching her is nearly impossible.  All we can do is wait for her to return, and make sure she hasn't hurt herself.

She is a very athletic dog.  She can run extremely fast and jump extremely high, even for a dog.  

My grandfather will sometimes judge hunting dog trials.  Usually, when we visit him and Grammy, we bring Tybee.  They live on a farm, and their driveway is a 1/4 mile long gravel straightaway.  One time, while we were there, she escaped through an open door.  Granddad said he never saw anything, living or mechanical, speed down his driveway as fast as Tybee did.

I can think of two examples of Tybee's prodigious jumping skills.  One, the sliding glass door to the deck at my house closes with a horizontal metal bar in the middle, about 4 feet up.  Tybee once jumped so high that her hind paws were on level with that bar.  Two, our front door has a window near the top.  She has jumped high enough to briefly look out that window.

Now, for some funny anecdotes!

Tybee is very concerned with my family's constant preoccupation with flashy beepy whirry things, and with the lack of attention we can pay to her while using them.  If she wants my attention while I'm on the computer, she will hop up onto the couch and nose my hand away from the keyboard, inserting her head under my arm so I can't return it to the computer.  Sometimes she'll paw the keyboard, leading to awkward instant messages.  Once she hit the power button while I was doing homework.

Occasionally, she'll be in a playful mood and will pick up a tennis ball.  Her antics with tennis balls are some of the funniest things I've ever seen.  If she can't get a human to play with her, she will toss it into the air herself to catch again.  She will sometimes smoosh her snout into someone's leg or arm, while gnawing on the tennis ball, to grab their attention.

She hates rain and water.  Swimming is entirely not an option.  Again while escaped at my grandparents' house, she chased a few ducks into the small river behind the house.  One jump into the water and she scrambled back to shore, thoroughly bewildered and evidently in distress from being wet.  After my sisters give her baths in the bathtub upstairs, she will come racing down the stairs and start one of her funniest routines.  She will sprint down the stairs, run into the dining room, run a lap or two around the table, and sprint back upstairs, where she will come to a screeching halt in front of whoever is upstairs.  She will growl or bark playfully, once, and repeat the routine.  

She will sometimes do variations of this for apparently no reason.  A few times this has been while I was on my bed, in which variation she will race down the upstairs hallway to my room, leap vertically onto my bed, growl at me once, and repeat.  By the way, her growls are not in the least menacing.  She just looks ridiculous when she tries to be ferocious.

When someone in my family makes a funny noise, especially prolonged laughter or a previously unheard noise, she will look at that person with her head to one side in a comically quizzical look.  Often this will herald a change in behavior: if she was trying to be ferocious, she will calm and sit down.  If she was just sitting there, she will bark and growl, but since this usually just makes us laugh [more], she will stop.

Tybee is afraid of balloons.  Any time we bring home any type of balloon that will stay in the air by itself, she will stand there, fascinated and afraid, barking once or twice.

She had a very similar reaction once when we passed a mutilated pumpkin in someone's yard.  She approached it, sniffed it, and jumped back.  She narrowed her eyes and did the same thing again.  She did this a few times before barking once and walking away.

Her tail is a lethal weapon, as my mom says.  When she wags her tail, she wags it so fast she hits herself with it.  There's only a thin layer of short fur on it, so if she hits you with it, it's like getting whacked with a bony cord.  It's very painful.

She likes to "dance" with me or Mom.  She will jump up so her front paws are on my stomach, and I'll grab her paws and dance with her for about two seconds until she decides she doesn't like anything or anyone on her paws.  She does this almost every day.

Since she is all muscle and no fat, and with very short fur, she does not do well in the cold.  We have to put her in a sweater to go on walks in the cold winter months, though Mom is (and I am too, for that matter) morally opposed to putting pets in clothing.  She still shivers visibly.  When she gets home, the first thing she does once her leash is off is to run to the nearest carpeting, and run around in a circle with her shoulder on the floor, trying to rub off her sweater.  After a short while of this, she will roll over onto her back, swing into a semicircle a few times, get up, shake off, and start rubbing her shoulder on the floor again.

The first day we had her, we bought her a squeaky toy.  She would pounce on it, then jump back and look at it in suspicion.  It was hilarious.

They say laughter is the best medicine - and my family says that if that's true, Tybee is a walking pharmacy.

Music That I Like

There is one thing you need to know about me: I'm a bit of a weirdo.  If that wasn't apparent from my geeky references, now you know.  I like a wide range of geeky things, from Doctor Who to Harry Potter to Star Wars to Lord of the Rings.  I enjoy reading.  I do not shop at name brand stores, nor do I shop at little boutique stores or thrift shops.  I do not change my wardrobe every time the fashions change; I go shopping for clothes only a few times a year.  Instead, I spend my money on online gaming, and one thing that is quite weird about me: my favorite music.

Now, if you were to ask me about any Top 40 songs, I'd probably know the top 10.  Maybe.  I know several that were popular when I was in 6th and 7th grade, and I don't live under a rock, so I know super popular songs like Gangnam Style, What Makes You Beautiful, and such.  I have many friends who could regale me about the minutia of the different styles of pop artists.  But I usually don't care.

I'm not a hipster; I don't consider myself above the mainstream.  I don't listen to bands that no one's ever heard of, or oddly specific genres, or foreign artists.  In fact, most people have heard the music that I enjoy.  They just don't realize that they're listening to it, because they're too focused on what else is going on at the time.  There are others like me, but we make a small percentage of the music consumer population.  Sometimes people notice, and a piece of music becomes iconic - but only a phrase or two, never the entire song.

I am talking about wordless, orchestral movie soundtracks.  Well, TV show soundtracks too.  Anyone can hum the Star Wars theme, especially the Imperial March, but not as many could tell me the composer - fewer could name his other works, fewer still could tell me the names of the tracks on the album.  Some people like One Direction or P!nk, I like Michael Giacchino, John Williams, and Alan Silvestri.  Some people like "We Are Young" or "Want U Back," I like "Main Title/Rebel Blockade Runner" and "The Quidditch Match."

Granted, I like pop music too.  Most of the pop songs I've names, I can only name because they're on my iPod right now.  But I just like them.  Like I've said before, I'm a nerd.  One of the things that defines nerds is that when we like stuff, we really like stuff.  I am ambivalent about pop music.  I love soundtrack music.

The reason soundtrack music was created at all was to make the audience feel a certain emotion.  When I was little, I watched the behind-the-scenes of an animated movie.  One of the features was about the score.  At one point, they played a certain scene without music.  Then they played it again with the music.  The effect was incredible - it went from slightly amusing to thrilling.  This effect is one of the reasons I enjoy soundtrack music.  The ability of music to manipulate human psychology is astounding.  Music can sound like heartbeats, talking, screaming, birds singing, or anything that appeals to our instincts to make us feel the way the composer wants us to.

When music plays from my favorite movies, I can usually tell where in the movie it is.  I can quote the movie at the right points while listening, as any of my friends will tell you.  I can relive the movie or TV show without wasting battery or requiring 100% of my time and energy.

I also love the orchestra side of this music.  To be a musician in an orchestra would be amazing, if I was actually musically talented, knew how to play an instrument, and found an orchestra to be in.  I love listening to the different layers of the music, relishing the deep sounds of the cellos or the sweet singing of the flutes.  Every time I listen to a song, I can hear a new part of it, some quiet instrument that makes the whole song sound better.

Sometimes I pretend that I am conducting the orchestra.  Some people do the air guitar; I do the air baton.

This has been a post.

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Convinced of the merits of Soundtrack Music?  Don't know where to find any? Here are the highlights of my favorite albums (these will be heavy in the action-y music and light on the romantic or sad, since that's how I like it):

• How to Train Your Dragon, soundtrack by John Powell: 
• "Test Drive" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6IBlQj2U5kU  Maybe it was because this was accompanied by excellent animation and [the animation equivalent of] cinematography, and was a positive turning point in the plot, but this is probably my favorite of all time.
• "See You Tomorrow" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L4o5-f6dGAg Immediately, the lighthearted theme from this montage makes the listener smile.  I certainly always do.

• Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, soundtrack by Nicholas Hooper: 
• "Fireworks" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FRVVeMZdVZQ I have four words for you: Fred and George Weasley.  A mischievous, victorious song, good enough by itself - and then the electric guitar starts.
• "Dumbledore's Army" (start this one at 1 minute in, it's pretty boring before then) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZfiryQrX0BU  Whimsical, magical, hopeful, this reflects the scene and the franchise from which it came.

• Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, soundtrack by John Williams: 
• "The Throne Room/End Title" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h5N6_NWtVxY  A beautiful , victorious ending topped with the main themes and a flourish.  Sounds like a parade.

• Avatar: the Last Airbender, soundtrack by The Track Team: 
• "Into the Earth Kingdom" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WDYNpssqz_U The music to a fight scene.  Begins slow as the group of heroes plans and heads to the fight; when they get there, the music can only be described as awesome.
• "Final Agni Kai" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yFnnNijn_OI This scene would have been emotional enough without the music.  Sister and brother, the prodigy princess now slipping into insanity and the banished scarred prince, duel for the throne in the series finale.  Listen to this song for instant sadness.  For the full scene, watch this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oCXHi0kFucc

• The Legend of Korra, soundtrack by The Track Team: 
• "The Rally" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G0095lSk0g8 Starts low, slow, and creepy.  Becomes mysterious, suspenseful, and thrilling.  I dare you to listen to this and not become curious about The Legend of Korra.
• "Firebending Training" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kuJOWh8aZ6U This is how we meet Korra: taking the test for the official title of Firebending Master.  The music is as light-footed and powerful as the acrobatic fire-blasting stunts she displays in the sequence.

• Doctor Who, soundtrack by Murray Gold and the BBC Orchestra:
• "Doctor Who Theme" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2CYDgezeQas Sounds like a Sonic Screwdriver and as iconic as the Doctor himself.  Futuristic, positive, and a little crazy, it reflects the show and the main character - which is reason enough for me to love it.
• "Martha's Theme" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=REwOudgPQTI  To describe this in two words, I would say "hauntingly beautiful."  I find myself humming this at the randomest times.  

• The Chronicles of Narnia: the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, soundtrack by Harry Gregson-Williams: 
• "The Blitz, 1940" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N0i99VyZCg8 I talked earlier about music evoking other sounds.  This is the best example: racing heartbeats, air raid sirens, passing planes, and a military march comprise this piece from the movie adaptation of Narnia.
• "The Battle" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1zoAhKNwnfQ&feature=relmfu Another action sequence, this one is best described as a grand, epic fanfare to the heroes taking their country back from the White Witch.  Goosebump-worthy.

• The Incredibles, soundtrack by Michael Giacchino:
• "Missile Lock" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1N2RFMtJ8Xc This song is from a very intense scene and sounds accordingly.  The drumbeat, brass and strings crying the urgency of the situation make this an excellent song.
• "100 Mile Dash" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IekwaN1xCaU&NR=1 This one is from a chase scene.  It follows one of two superhero siblings: the super fast runner.  This song, like the rest of the soundtrack, channels James Bond in sound.

Adult Parties and Why I Hate Them

     "Are these [my mother's name]'s girls?  Oh my goodness, look how old you all are!  What grade are you all in?  What school do you go to now?  Oh, you're making me feel old.  I remember when you were this big."

    This evening was my aunt's 40th birthday party.  It was a surprise party, with wine tasting and an entirely gluten-free menu.  It was held at the country club that she is a member of, and which I have only had the obligation of going to a few times.
     I only have a few cousins on that side of the family.  One, the birthday lady's only child, is five years old and had a temper tantrum at the beginning of the party.  He was sent home.  If only I was five and could get away with that...
     My other cousins are all several years older than I am.  Two live with their parents on the other side of the country, and were not present at this party.  The other is 24 years old, has a job, and lives in her own apartment in the city.  She was present, but was treated as an adult.
     That leaves my two sisters and me as the only people under the age of 18 at this party.  I think I might have gone insane had not my aunt's mother-in-law arranged for us to have dinner at the club restaurant when not spending the evening in the downstairs game room.  The game room was saddeningly outdated and sparse, but it was better than the sickening party room full of adults.  I only entered that party room three times, and those three times were enough to make me want to knock my head against the expensively papered wall.

     Walking into the room the first time, we didn't know if it was the right party.  The old pictures of my aunt were probably the only things that assured me we were in the right place.  I recognized only one person.  My aunt wasn't there yet.  My aunt's mother-in-law, Ms. Jean, was almost too happy to show my sisters and me to the game room, and we were almost too happy to go.  
     After a while there, Ms. Jean and my mother came back to bring us upstairs to dinner - with a stop to say hi to my aunt, who had long since arrived.  This was my second encounter with the party room.  I practically had to wait in line to say hi, and while I did so I was subjected to the above italicized conversation.  Finally, after wishing my aunt a happy birthday, we had to wait around for Ms. Jean to finish her conversation before we could go have dinner.  
     While we waited, I couldn't help observing the party guests.  All of the men had very short hair and wore dull colors.  The women all wore different clothing that still managed to look the same.  They seemed to either obsessively follow fashion trends and renew their wardrobes accordingly, or were wearing the most fashionable outfit they owned.  Maybe this is just my perspective as a teen, but I felt that what was fashionable for the women to wear looked like an attempt to take teen fashion and make it grown up.  I saw many of the same basic styles that I see at school, but with more mature patterns and more jewelry.  It was sort of sad, that fashion was obviously such a high priority to these people.  They also seemed to all have one of two physiques, according to how much they exercised: the slender but tired, or the less slender and trying to hide it.  Everyone at the party wore identical smiles and spoke in identical tones.  The more I think about it, the more it seemed like something from a dystopian novel, or maybe just a plain old nightmare.
     After dinner (which was about 75% awkwardly trying to use my best table manners and still feeling like a 4th century country peasant, and the other 25% trying not to finish off the basket of bread in the center of the table) we went straight back down to the game room.  My sisters and I had agreed to spend our remaining 45 minutes after dinner watching a favorite TV show on the last bit of charge in my iPod.  When there, we discovered that this would not be so easy - the previously empty game room had filled with haughty, expensively-dressed girls of my sisters' ages.  We sat down on a couch and changed plans: one sister would try to take a turn on an arcade game while the other sister and I watched an episode of The Legend of Korra.  The most enjoyable part of my evening was definitely reliving Lin Beifong's heroic charge through Republic City to rescue Avatar Korra.  After this, the room had mostly emptied out and I tried another round or so on the street racing game.  
     Finally, Dad brought us back upstairs, where we waited in the party room again.  There were a lot fewer people this time.  I commented to Mom about the noticeable increase in the stench of wine since my last visit to the room.  She dryly reminded me that it was partially a wine-tasting party, after all.  But I was uncomfortable in the midst of so many adults drinking alcohol, and excused myself to the ladies' room.  I went straight from there to the lobby, and waited there for my family.

     I think I know what it was about that party that I hated so much.  I've put a name on the aura that made me want to run screaming as far and as fast as I could from that room.  It was the sheer pompous foolery that the event exuded.  The decadence of the country club and its decor.  The reek of wine that filled the room.  The contentment with the mundane that emanated from the overfed, overdressed attendees.
     I could not deal with the way everyone seemed so unimportant and thought themselves so important.  I could not understand how each person enjoyed the mundanity of this most repetitious of charades.  Perhaps, like I did, they hid their disgust behind a face of cheerfulness?  But if they did, why was this ritual of boring interaction even instituted at all?
     I wanted to laugh at them, I wanted to scream at them, I wanted to remove all memory of their existence from my mind.  
     It may be my introverted take on life, and my reluctance to socialize with people who have nothing in common with me, but what terrified me most was something my mom said at the end of the party.  She said that events like this were things some people had to do on a regular basis, especially people whose jobs are in business or include business-like things.  I have strengthened my resolve not to go into business.  
     Is that really what people do - the exact same interactions in a pattern, at event after event after event?  Is every adult party exactly the same as every other?  The people are the same, the clothing is the same, the food and drink is the same, the conversation is the same.  There is no part of any adult party that I've been to that has not been the exact same way in every facet of its petty existence.  Someone please tell me that there are variations.
     I feel very sorry for my cousin, the 24-year-old.  She has a degree in International Business.  She has only been old enough to drink for three years, but already has favorite brands of wine.  She seems to be very good at these sorts of parties.  She gets along better with her mom and aunts than with her cousins.  She's only nine years older than me, but from talking to her I feel more like a child than a young adult - she's already mastered the condescending voice.  I feel sorry for her because I fear there is no saving her from a life full of wine-tasting parties.

     I am reminded of two fictional events: one, the dinner party at the Dursleys' house in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, and two, the Engagement Party in the 2010 film adaption of Alice in Wonderland.  
     In the Harry Potter book, the Dursleys flatter their dinner guests, a couple named Mason in hopes of getting Mr. Mason, a wealthy businessman, to sign a contract with Mr. Dursley's company.    Harry, the oddball, is sent upstairs.  When prompted before the dinner, Harry recites his role that night: "I'll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I don't exist."
     The far more relevant anecdote is from Alice in Wonderland.  The entire party seems exactly like the one I attended tonight - simply change the clothing styles, time of day, premise for the event, and contemporary politics, and the two events could be identical.  On the way to the party, Alice and her mother are arguing about how Alice isn't "properly dressed."  Alice asks her mother, "What if proper was wearing a codfish on your head?  Would you do it?  To me, a corset is like a codfish."
     I may not have been forced to pretend I didn't exist - Ms. Jean kept reminding me that I was free to join them upstairs - and I was not forced to wear a corset, I can't help but feel like Harry and Alice.  The absolute silliness of grownups is unfathomable to me.

     Please excuse me while I watch some Vlogbrothers videos.  I need to restore my faith in humanity.


EDIT:
I would like to amend two thoughts.
One: "the way everyone seemed so unimportant"
I will invoke the anecdotes from fiction again.  The Doctor, a 900 year old time-traveling alien, said, "in 900 years of time and space, I've never met someone who wasn't important before."  Everyone is important.  No exceptions.
Two: As Brianna pointed out in comments, people are not disappointments in humanity if they like boring events and can be content with mundanity.  They are merely people with a mindset alien to me.  I suppose I should be used to that mindset by now, since so many people I encounter seem to have it, but the atmosphere of that party hit me so strongly that I was stunned and angry.  Please pardon my rudeness.