I Am Watching You, Stamford.

My world is getting small.

I seem to see someone I know everywhere I go, and I blame the baby. In a good way. I feel like, especially in the mall/Target/Cove/Bull's Head/SMNC cicuit- you know, where the parents hang- I had better be on my best behavior, because chances are, I'm gonna see someone I know.

This feeling actually makes me DRIVE better, because I'm afraid that if I drive like a punk, that person is gonna pull into daycare RIGHT BEHIND ME, and I'm going to be revealed as a jerk to this other parent- a parent who I'll see regularly for the next several years. I see my good behavior as an investment in future karma- and a good reputation.

I've got a good memory for faces, and I like talking to people, and I'm always looking at people, so obviously this makes me more likely to spot people. It's sort of a hobby of mine, actually.

But having the baby in daycare, and taking baby yoga and other classes, really has caused me to be connected with many, many more adults who live in the same area I do.

I just ran into a woman I recognized at a playground, and we puzzled for several minutes over where we knew each other from. Stamford Hospital Mom's Group? Attachment Parenting Group of Fairfield County? Baby Yoga? La Leche League? No... I realized later that night that I knew her from the one toddler yoga class I tried out at Elements Yoga in Darien.

Don't have kids? Well, maybe you go to my GYM, so I might know your face any way.

So hey, even if you don't recognize me... I might recognize you, so YOU better be on good behavior!

That's right, Stamford, keep on your TOES, 'cause I am out there... watching you.

List of just some of my random sightings:

• A Stamford Hospital Moms Group friend at Capriccio.
• A baby yoga friend at Stamford Museum and Nature Center.
• A coworker and her kids at Target.
• A Stamford Hospital Mom at Cove.
• A Stamford Hospital Mom at the grocery store.
• A mom I know from our walks at the grocery store.
• Another Stamford Hospital Mom at the grocery store (who I avoided).
• A lady I recognized but couldn't place at a playground.
• A coworker's friend (who I'd met at a playdate) at Target.
• Also, lots and lots of other people I see but avoid.

You see what I am talking about?

I should really make an effort to DRESS better since I seem to see people I know a lot, but a lady can't do it all... especially when she is STILL not quite back into her pre-pregnancy wardrobe. Click here to read more.

SUV Craze, Scary Moms: I Get It Now

We're expecting a baby in March, so we're car shopping. We pretty much need a wagon or an SUV, because I don't want the dog in the back with the baby. God forbid there's any sort of collision, I don't want our hound's claws scratching out the baby's eyes.
I've driven teeny cars for the past ten years (current car = Honda Civic), so I figured I'd be happy with a little wagon, like maybe the Subaru Outback or VW Passat, or perhaps, in my dreams, a used BMW 3 series. I've always said I didn't need a big car. Well, now that I've test-driven the largest wagon in existence, I'm relishing the thought of myself in a huge car. I want to menace the drivers around me who've been menacing me for the past 10 years.

I finally get why people buy big cars. When you have a teeny baby in the car, you want your car to be something that other people avoid. That punk in the Toyota Tacoma this morning, who came awfully close to me as he whipped around me as I was waiting to turn into Village Bagels? I bet that $&@&head would have given me a little more space if I'd been in the 4600 pound, steel encased Mercedes R450, which is the wagon we're eying that's basically the size of a mini-van. Used, it's a pretty good deal, possibly because it resembles a hearse. When I see that thing on the road, I can barely distinguish it from the Mercedes SUV. That's what I want: a big-ass car that's slightly terrifying to others.

I finally understand why all these moms in SUVs act so bitchy and aggressive. They're like mother bears protecting their young. They're going to run us over before we can hurt their babies. I say "we," but who I really mean is men. Women drive cluelessly, but men drive fast and dangerously, and we women don't like that. We want you to be careful. We buy big cars to try to scare you into keeping away from us.

Moral of the story: I've gone over to the FC dark side. I've always self-righteously driven a small car, and talked trash about how pompous it is to drive a big one, but once I was offered a 2-ton vehicle, do you think I shed a tear about giving up my Civic?
When I could only afford a Civic (although actually my Civic only cost 10,000 less than the wagon/hearse), I had to be happy with it.
However, if my husband wants to float me and this gestating baby a huge car, I won't protest. I might feel a little pang to let my Civic go, because that was the car I bought just before my first nephew was born, and a year before I met my husband. That car was with me in the best 5 and a half years of my life.
But, uh, this new car has heated leather seats. And I hate the cold. Yes, I'm ready to upgrade vehicles- for the baby's sake, of course.

In an ideal world, we'd all drive fuel-efficient, yet snow-safe, little cars. We'd drive cautiously, and respect each other on the road, and never take our anger out on other drivers by whipping around them if they're driving slightly below the speed limit.
But this is the FC, and we all hate each other, so big cars make us feel safer. I think I've finally accepted the way the FC works, and this big car marks my transition from nice Southern girl to FC alphabitch.

Maybe. I don't know. I'm still pretty nice and I'm not sure I can shake that.

But just to be safe, watch the hell out if you see this car. ---> Click here to read more.

Heroes: Not as Translatable to Stamford as Lost

Over the last week, my fourth with a horrifying cough, I made it through two seasons of Heroes. Unlike when I watched 3 seasons of Lost over a period of two months, I can't really apply any Heroes lessons to Stamford. I tried to use flame-shooting power (see photo) on my husband when he refused to go shopping with me this morning, but nothing happened. I did think I might be getting super-hearing when I heard phlegm crackling in my throat (a crackling sound in the lungs is a sign of pneumonia), but the doc only heard wheezing yesterday; no crackling. No super-hearing, no flame-throwing, no flying. I certainly don't have super-healing power.

I suppose there might be some among us who have super-powers, but I think it's more likely that there are just bad people hidden among us, like robbers or plain old mean people. The guy who wears bat ears downtown... I don't think he's got a super-power. I can't think of a single person in this town who I suspect of having a power.

With Lost, I could apply lessons of mystery, determination, and seeming coincidence. With Heroes, I got nothin'. I can't even tell what time period Peter is jumping to any more, and Hayden Panetierre's bad acting is getting old. I am interested in figuring out how Gabriel becomes a good person, but he just blew up the world, right? (We just saw the fifth episode of season 3 last night.) Or was that the future, and it didn't really happen? The story lines are getting convoluted. So now there are three Nikki Saunders? Who's the third? Nikki is dead, now we have Tracy Straus, who's the third? Because Jessica was just a split personality right, not a real person? And did her doctor say he gave Tracy powers, she wasn't born with them?

Don't get me wrong; I'll be following Heroes from now on. I like a good multi-character drama with a sci-fi twist. But Lost is still my favorite. The actors are more fun to look at, the mystery more focused, and the pacing less frenetic. Only 7 more weeks until the next season of Lost.

Me to husband just now: Did you put the laundry in the dryer?
Husband: Uh... I have done it in the future.

Hmmm. Good attempt to apply Heroes to daily life, but it's not enough to capture my imagination.

Related Stamford Talk post:
--March 4, 2008-- Mystery, Power: Stamford and the Island of Lost Click here to read more.

North-South Relations: A Poem

For the second time in a week, I’m awake at 2am and can’t get back to sleep because of coughing and congestion. It’s 3:30 now, and this poem about North-South relationships is in my head, so I might as well busy my brain for a little and type it out for you.  I have to wake up at 4:20am, anyway, because I'm catching a 6:30 flight to Tupelo, MS.

A friend typed this poem out for me ten years ago when she was at a really boring job. My friend was my roommate at the time, and she is still one of my very best friends. She’s also an amazing poet herself. When you read this poem, try not to think of George Bush. Think of like, normal Southern people. This poem is about the strengths and foibles of both North and South, but really about friendship.

AN INVITATION TO JAY CLAYTON
(from George Bradley’s The Fire Fetched Down, 1996)

From the land of football recruiting scandals,
Barbeque and kudzu, creation science,
Military schooling and right-to-work laws,
Country of country

Music, come, old friend, to the land of mud-rooms,
Flu, and acid slush, to decaying factory
Towns and autumn foliage fanfare, pilgrim
Mores and pilgrim

Cooking, please come flying. Fly Continental,
If you must, but travel and take advantage
Of the miser’s welcome New England offers:
Taciturn greeting,

Shellfish, maple glop, and a local stab at
Wine. Alas, the syrup and wine aren’t always
Easy to distinguish, while conversation
Here and about is

Rather less mercurial than the chowder.
We must count on you, then, to keep the table
Lively. Born and bred in the South, where breeding
Matters and manners

Are a sort of spectator sport, by instinct
You will captivate the assorted neighbors
We invite to witness a rare performance,
Charming them silly

With your deep-fried flattery, served in portions
Just this side of fattening, with your gossip
Balanced on the line that divides piquant from
Legal exposure.

Later, dinner done and the others gone or
Gone to bed, we heroes can strive to stave off
Sleep and reminisce for a while, rewriting
Scenes from our epic

College years together, lamenting classmates
Lost or dead, amazing ourselves to notice
Dreams we formed in youth of devoting life to
Language have somehow

Come to pas, albeit in ways we couldn’t
Possibly foresee at the time, arrived as
We now are at homes and careers and family,
Come to this present

Peace, or its simulacrum. Jay, what pleasure
Can compare to memories shared upon the
Stroke of midnight? Call it nostalgia, call it
Civilization,

Either way, please visit. It won’t be like the
Old days, when the hunger that pounded through our
Veins possessed us, driving us into darkened
Streets toward sunrise.


If you made it to the end of this poem, I want to brag about my friend real quick. The year before she typed this poem out for me, she wanted to be in the poetry class of a professor named Charles Wright. He gruffly told her on the phone that the class was full, but to bring some samples of her work by his office. He flipped through them and said, “Oh. These will be fine. I’ll see you Monday.” The dude won the Pulitzer the next year!  My friend is so talented, and I don't always think she realizes that.  I try to remind her as often as possible.

It’s 4 am. I cannot believe I am leaving for the airport in 45 minutes!!! Click here to read more.

Leaf Piles: Fall, FC Style

I've got a couple of posts about food ready- one about pancakes and diners and one about an Italian food face-off, but decadent food is for the weekend. You can’t think about the weekend on Tuesday morning. I’ll talk about the other obvious thing in life: the weather.

When I drive around Greenwich and Stamford in the fall and see the leaf piles start to gather, I think, This is what it's like to live in a place with money.

When I first came up here from Va., all the evidence of money was astonishing: BMWs, Mercedes, huge houses, designer clothes. I’m used to all of that now, but every fall the leaf thing reminds me that I live in a wealthy, high-powered area. Where I'm from, you bag your own leaves. The town will take them away, but you have to put the leaves in the bags first, just like you do with the rest of your trash.

The first fall I lived up here, I watched the piles build. I wasn't sure why people were putting their leaves in the road. Were they hoping the leaves would just rot there? Were they going to bag them up later? Then, one day, a town truck showed up and took away all the leaves. That seemed so luxurious to me.

In the FC, the leaf piles say, "Here are my leaves. I am too busy to bag them myself. You do it." I'm not saying that's bad. I myself am thankful that Stamford takes care of my leaves; I’m allergic to grasses, trees, pollen, and mold. I’m not eager to bag my own leaves and breath in all that dust and dirt. Other people have horrendous commutes and don’t want to do yard work at 8 at night. I think most of us are glad that our taxes pay for leaf removal.

This is New England. Leaves are in the way. I get it. People want their property to look grassy, not mucky with wet, rotted leaves. It’s easier for a town truck to collect and dispose of the leaves, and it’s probably more environmentally responsible.

I don’t begrudge us our leaf removal, but even after 10 years up here, I can’t shake my impression that the magical way the leaves go away is part of living in an area where so many people are available to do things for you: clean your house, massage you, take care of your kids, tutor your kids, wash your dog, walk your dog, make your food, clean your car. I suppose I’d seen that lifestyle on TV, but I’d never seen it in person.

The leaves were one of the first examples I saw of that when I moved up here. Fall is great for so many reasons- the smell, the chill, the football- but it also reminds me of when I first came up here and had to get used to everything. Click here to read more.

They Did It With a Wiffle Ball Bat. Soooooo?

All kinds of doody is hitting the fan in Greenwich, and what are we doing here in Stamford? Participating in ground-breaking studies on what makes good policemen? Having block parties to raise money for our firehouse? Throwing big concerts? Sheesh. That wholesome, productive stuff is not going to get the New York Times to come and join the gossip fray.

In a way, I feel bad that we’re not grabbing the spotlight because some teens cleared a town lot valued at 1.25 million dollars and built a Wiffle ball field that’s pissing off the neighbors. In a way, I feel left out because I don’t give a hootchie-koo about drunken non-residents riding the Island Beach ferry that my taxes pay for. I want to be angry about something like the Greenwich residents I'm reading about.

I miss blogging about drama, like Napa and Co. and school board inanity. All I can write about recently are sensible topics like farmers markets and nights out with friends. Hoooo-hum, Stamford! Where’s the next big drama? (Noooooo nothing more with the school board thanks! Nothing with the fire departments- I cannot follow that complicated story. OH! And I can't link you to it, because the Advocate refuses to show articles over 2 weeks old, and it's not coming up on a search on the Times site, and I need to go to bed, so I am not going to keep searching. Rrrrrr.)

I’m mostly kidding about wanting an over the top story in Stamford. When I feel myself craving some drama, I think to myself, that takes energy. It takes energy to form opinions, and I don’t feel like getting all riled up over an issue that’s not crucial. I’m glad I don’t have to weigh in on Wiffle ball and ferry rides. Those are Greenwich’s issues right now. I don't want my city to be involved in dysfunctional situations... even if those situations do make for good blogging.

Maybe our next big story is our part in the state of CT lawsuit against the FAA over the proposed dramatic increase in air traffic due to changed airplane routes into NYC. I only know what I’ve read in the paper, but it sounds like it’s going to affect a lot of us. Greenwich, Stamford and Norwalk also filed a lawsuit together. Maybe- maybe this will be just the thing that bring our 3 oh-so different towns together... nah, doubt it. Click here to read more.

What to Put in a Tourist Video of Stamford?

I’m blogging live from Mississippi this week, fueled by Cheezits and Sunkist!

I'm very suspicious of press releases, because it means someone wants something from me, but I got one that I'm going to share because it relates to our city and some of the good and bad things about Stamford we've been discussing here. And, most importantly, there is a prize involved.

Good Magazine emailed to suggest I tell my readers about their contest. I'll steal their very succinct words: "...Good Magazine is launching a project to encourage people to show off their hometowns and highlight what makes them stand apart from any other blip on a map. Anyone interested in serving as a tour guide for their neighborhood can submit a video to Good that showcases their favorite local spots and answers the question “What is it that would make someone want to travel to where you are?” The most illuminating tour guide will be rewarded with two roundtrip domestic plane tickets to anywhere JetBue flies."

So, what would we put in our Stamford video? Let's get a list going!

I am tempted to make one. I was also tempted to not tell you all so I could beat you out and win the tickets, but then I realized, I am probably too lazy to make the video, and it's so much easier just to have someone I know do it. With that said, I'm going to think about making a video. I'd put in Cove Beach, Capriccio, the Avon, Alive at Five, um... duh, those are all obvious...

However... not to bash Stamford... but the description says, "What would make someone want to travel to where you are?" What do we have here that would draw people in for a visit? You could certainly make a good summer weekend out of Alive at Five, lunch at Capriccio, day at the beach, dinner at Napa, but what else? We have the shore, but you can't easily rent a kayak anywhere, can you? Non-residents can get a $20 day pass to the beach, but I’ve only seen kayaks up for grabs at a Rocky Point Yacht Club in Greenwich. I fear you’d have to have some bucks to have a good time on a visit here. (Or, know someone with a boat.)

About Good Magazine. Their website looks a bit like New York Magazine, but it's not geographically focused, so it's a little scattered. I googled it and found a blurb about them from 2006: "Launching nationwide this Fall, GOOD magazine strives to elevate the level of debate among its target demographic of intelligent, ambitious, youthful people aged 21 through 35... GOOD is focused on the people, ideas, and institutions affecting change in the world. The magazine intends to examine the intersection of idealism and capitalism, and living well by doing “good”. GOOD will serve as a platform for talented contributors and writers to bring to the forefront issues and ideas that matter."

Looking at their website, I couldn't see that focus, so in your video, I wouldn't worry about trying to- well, maybe you should try to aim the video toward young do-gooders. You know, make it seem like we care about politics and/or the environment.

But um... is Stamford really the place for that population? We have got a lot of intelligent, ambitious, youthful people, but I don't see them doing much good; I see them drinking out at Tigin after making money all day. (Oh snap, did I just say that?) You can’t debate that Stamford has the capitalism covered.

About that idealism. Today in the car I said to my sis, “I wish my only job was to blog about Stamford and be a Stamford expert. If it was, I would interview people and... be an ESL volunteer.” Selfishly, I’d like to work with a Haitian person so I can practice my French and learn Kreyol. Oh man, I am so not good!

Does one have to be good to be idealistic? Click here to read more.

Yuppie Stamford: Vacuums, Blogs, Me

Um... I googled "yuppie blogs" just for fun, and the first result was a New York Times article called "The Latest Must-Have for Yuppies: A Blog About the Neighborhood." If I had any doubt that I'm in yuppie-ville, the article dispels it... oh, that and the reflection I glimpsed of myself leaving Target at 9pm Monday night with a $500 vacuum. (Already worth it!!!) I saw myself pushing the cart and thought, yup, Stuff Yuppies Like: expensive vacuums.

The Times article is about Brooklyn, but it clearly applies to Stamford: First come the renovated condominiums, the latte bars and the expensive baby strollers. Next, apparently, come the bloggers. Well, Stamford has new condos, and we don't push strollers because we don't walk anywhere, but we have a lot of bloggers. Scroll down to see my Fellow Bloggers in the right-hand margin.

Just like in Brooklyn, we Stamford urbanites closely watch what goes on in our 'hoods: One Web site’s survey of the prevalence of blogs in urban neighborhoods found a link between gentrification and the number of people who feel compelled to think out loud about the changes in their backyards...

Yup. I was all riled up about Whole Foods, and Trump Parc irritates me every morning when I stare at it on my drive through Stamford to I-95. Always Home and Uncool wrote about Advocate editor Joe Pisani leaving after Hearst took over. Blog Stamford writes about new buildings going up over town. Mr. Stamford posts about development in town, too. Joey K took furtive pictures of mystery construction that turned out to be part of a very confusing situation with the fire department. Manager Mom covers gas prices and recycling. Station Stops is all up in MetroNorth's beeswax. We are ON this city.

The leading Brooklyn blogger said, "This either means we’ve got a lot of creative, community-minded people in the neighborhood or a lot of recluses with too much time on their hands.” I think it's mostly the first one.

About that vacuum. I have a short haired dog whose white hair sticks like glued needles to any fabric. This vacuum has already changed my life and self-image. I can now host slumber parties and not feel guilty that my couches/air mattresses are near hair-slicked surfaces. Here's a pic of my dog with her boyfriend, Murray.


Related Stamford Talk articles:


April 16, 2008: "Stuff White People Like" Update: I Still Hate It

March 24, 2008: I Don't Like 'Stuff White People Like'

January 23, 2008: Whole Foods Mess Might Benefit Tawa

June 7, 2008: More Falling Objects in Stamford: Oh No You DI'IN'T, Trump Parc! Click here to read more.

Life in SoFa: Cheap Labor, Traffic, BMWs

There’s an interesting article in the Fairfield Weekly called "White Wash: An artist-housecleaner sounds off on the Fairfield County wealth gap." The gossip Jodi Strmiska dishes on her clients is ordinary, but I liked hearing a personal story about commuting down here to do service-related jobs.

A few things about Stamford jump out at me. First of all, notice how our beloved Stamford is left off her map: In coastal Fairfield County, the line between rich and poor is drawn along a south-north axis. The highest concentration of wealth exists in southern towns like Greenwich, Darien and New Canaan, whereas the highest concentration of poverty and near-poverty exists in northern cities and towns like Bridgeport, Stratford and Shelton.
Stamford, you're an anomaly, and I like that about you. I want you to improve some of your problems while retaining your "I'm different" attitude. Let's work together to be a place in SoFa (oooooooooooh I just made that up!!!!!!!!!) that retains a diverse population. As many readers commented in last week's post "What's the Biggest Issue Facing Stamford?", ordinary people have trouble affording homes in Stamford. Even families making well over $100,000 a year find it hard to buy a home comfortably and are forced to move to Norwalk. Hence another post I have planned, "Can Stamford Talk afford to stay in Stamford?"

I find the rich-poor divisions Strmiska portrays depressing, but I know they're true. It's the nature of the FC: The service economy, which employs the majority of working poor in Fairfield County, insures the perpetuation of the suburban gated-community and the urban ghetto. They have to commute to Greenwich or New Canaan to their jobs as nannies, housekeepers, landscapers or contractors, and come home to underfunded Bridgeport or Stratford, towns that often mean one thing— a bedroom— to the day-laborers who are the backbone of the service sector in Fairfield County.

Yup. We can bitch about day laborers and traffic on 95, but those are natural results of the way this area works. C.R.E.A.M.! ("Cash Rules Everything Around Me," Wu-Tang Clan song) I hate to say it, but sometimes it feels like cash rules a whole heck of a lot down here. I think one of the area's biggest challenges is how to live here and not get
a) too focused on material goods
or
b) too down that you can't afford the beautiful things other people have.

I never thought I was a material person, but now that my Civic and I are getting older, I find myself craving a BMW 6 series. I can't afford that car, but I want that car, because I see some beautiful ones in my gym's parking lot at 6am. That car has started to look normal- and, in my fantasies, attainable- to me. That car is not normal, and this area is not normal. We have some very, very, very rich people around here, and we have a lot of poor people. I'm in the middle and I feel pretty damn lucky about that.

If it's hard for adults to keep perspective, it must horrible for kids. If I were a poor kid in Stamford, I'm not sure how I'd deal with seeing other kids driving nice cars, using their iPhones and talking about fancy vacations. If you have money, this area is awesome; there are so many ways to spend it. If you don't... well, you're stuck on 95, living in an ugly apartment, and unable to enjoy a lot of the activities around here. Thank goodness Stamford has some beautiful parks, the free summer concerts, and... uh, that's pretty much all the free stuff around here, right?

Can you imagine living in this area with no money?


Related Stamford Talk posts:

March 3, 2008-- Illegal Immigrants: Not Job-Stealers, but Subject to Raids and Arrests in Danbury

February 24, 2008-- Stamford Day Laborers= Criminals?

February 22, 2008-- Day Laborer = Illegal Immigrant? Click here to read more.

What's the Biggest Issue Facing Stamford?

Me, out of the blue to a friend: So, what do you think the biggest issue facing Stamford is?
Friend: The Towers of Death. They're dead space. (Referring to the two round, low-income high rises smack in the middle of town.)
Me: But people live there.
Friend: I know, but think about it. It's valuable space wasted. There's no retail, no public spaces. It's the middle of downtown, but I wouldn't want to park there at night.

I'm not sure if those towers are our biggest problem, but we all think they are hideous. If I wanted to get deep into it, I'd talk about Stamford's crazy extremes of rich and poor and our changing real estate needs, but that's too much for my allergy-riddled brain. We all read the same newspaper articles, but what's your personal take on the subject? What's the biggest issue facing Stamford?

If you vote for taxes or real estate as a big issue, try to make it spicy and dramatic. I find anything related to math boring*, but if you get emotional, or give concrete examples, I can comprehend.

I vote for the issue of schools being OK for young families. Like the two towers, that issue encompasses taxes, housing, and socioeconomics. Good schools reflect a population that wants to invest in a place and stick around to make it the best it can be. In the recent news, the Stamford schools say to prospective home buyers, "Maybe you should buy in Fairfield and just take the train!"

*Off topic: I used to do fine in math, but now it makes me feel nauseous. I took a look at the SAT Math a few months ago and truly felt like throwing up. It looked incomprehensible. I also feel sick when I listen to the Beach Boys, Jimmy Buffett, and a certain a cappella group from my college. It's not rational; it's a physiological reaction to the sound/idea/association. I can't explain it, other than to say I am very attuned to music. For example, my husband can easily tolerate a bad song on the radio, but I instantly freak out and have to change it. Click here to read more.

Thoughts on Driving in Stamford

1. Last week: It's an odd town in which, when you pointedly let someone go (even when they're being a dumba$$) that they don't wave thank you.

2. Today, 5:30: You don’t even want to know what curses I said to the Saab going 50 mph on the Merritt.

3. Today, 6:24: In the white Taurus in front of me, a man, rather than being focused on driving from point A to point B as fast as he can, is talking to his 12 year old daughter. I can tell, because he’s glancing over at her leisurely as I grip the wheel and watch the conversation.

I feel myself getting angry, but I quickly calm myself by employing one of my most reliable strategies: I imagine that the person in front of me is someone I know. If that were my dad talking to my sis, I wouldn’t want some b*!$(% behind them thinking mean things.

4. Today, 6:26, at a stoplight. The white Taurus has a little sticker on the back window that I can’t quite read. Wouldn’t it be so cool if we all plastered stickers on our cars? We spend so much time in these metal capsules; it’s such wasted space! It would be fun to show off who we are... but we want to be anonymous, right? I don’t really want to know what the person in front of me thinks; that would be overwhelming. Still, I’d like to see some pretty, decorated cars. That seems like it might be illegal though because it would be distracting.

5. I adore this time alone driving. All this time to think.

6. 6:28, I whip around the Taurus once we get into a 2-lane road, but I don’t think mean things while I do it.


Oh! Sometimes I also imagine that the slow driver has been working the night shift and is really tired so they're having trouble staying awake while they are driving. You never know what other people are going through. I try to employ empathy while I am making my way across Stamford and its numerous stoplights. I try.

Does anyone have any other good strategies for dealing with traffic/other drivers?

Related Stamford Talk Post:
--Dec: Bad Drivers: Don't Get Personalized Plates


--October 17: A Vow Against Road Rage Click here to read more.

"Stuff White People Like" Update: I Still Hate It

Two weeks ago I went off on the blog mentioned above because I didn’t think it was about white people. Even after Stamford Talk readers posted clear-headed answers, I was still bothered by it and wanted to figure out why. I’ve rewritten and edited my opinions down to two main points.

1. The generalizations on SWPL are not about white people. Every article I read says the same thing: "Well, it's really about yuppies." So, change the name. If it’s only about say, 2 % of white people, the blog shouldn’t be titled “SWPL.”

Lander is a 29 year old (aspiring) comedy writer in LA. In a nauseating NPR interview, Lander explains that his blog is less about soccer moms than “Park Slope parents.” Ohhhhh... chuckle chuckle! I get the difference! I’m in on the joke! But Lander, those are your peers- twenty-nine year old upwardly-mobile creative types. They call those people “yuppies.” Most white people in this country aren’t like that. I’m sure Chris Lander is aware of the distinction, but he knows that “SWPL” sounds funnier. See if you can listen to the NPR interview without wanting to throw up at his smug, self-satisfied tone of voice. I only made it through 5 minutes.

Stamford Talk reader KG posted, “You can’t take it too seriously when you read it. I can see how perhaps if you think about it too hard, you can take offense, but I just get a chuckle.” I do see why people get a laugh; it’s a cute site even if it doesn’t appeal to me. I’m only thinking hard about the title of his blog. If he’s going to talk about race (which he’s not), he should know what he’s talking about (he doesn’t, so he should rename his blog).

It’s fine if someone wants to write satire about a certain demographic of white people. If you like his writing style, cool. It will be just as good when he changes the name to "Stuff Yuppies Like."

2. The media is overly-positive about the site, and are trying to make it into something more meaningful than it really is. ST reader John C commented, “You're overthinking the site. SWPL is as empty-headed as those VH-1 specials wherein people make snarky comments about daily observations...” That’s why I’m astonished and annoyed by all of the media coverage.

The media is over-thinking the site, not me. I was quite happy to ignore SWPL. When I first saw the site, I looked at one entry, got the impression from his “About” page that he was an uneducated dolt, and quit out without thinking much about it. I was surprised when friends sent me the link; that’s when I wrote the first post. When Zobot provided the link to the Boston Globe article, I realized the situation was worse than I thought. Respectable news outlets were talking about the blog’s insights on race.

From abc news: According to experts, he hit the right note at the right time, while — perhaps unintentionally — creating a forum for people to openly mock, or explore, what it means to be white. You mean, what it means to have money and privilege. I live in Fairfield County, so you can trust me on that.

The articles I read offer convoluted explanations about why the blog is such a hit. From an expert quoted on abc.com: “The blog does a really good job of walking the line between provocative and offensive... I think the reason it's popular with a really broad spectrum of readers is that white readers can be the focus of the content and that's not usually the case with blogs about race." I don’t find Lander’s writing provocative or offensive. Yuppies have been joked about before; so have white people.

As the Globe says: The blog's popularity may have something to do with its singularity. Jokes about rednecks and Republicans are common. But white middle-class liberals rarely face comedic barbs unless they're the target of black comics such as Dave Chappelle or Chris Rock. Right... so how is it rare if the nation’s top comedians talk about it all the time? And, as my sister pointed out, who is this “broad spectrum?” She’s less yuppie than me, but she’s white, so her perspective has been invaluable: “I’m white, and none of these apply to me.” Straight from the mouth of a white person.

An LA Times reporter writes: Lander is doing to whites what scores of journalists and politicians do to non-white minorities every day, "essentializing" complex identities -- that is, stripping away all variety and reducing them to their presumed authentic essences. One irony-deficient reader complained that the blog was less about white people than it was about yuppies. And without knowing it, she was cutting to the heart of the joke. Lander is gently making fun of the many progressive, educated, upper-middle-class whites who think they are beyond ethnicity or collectively shared tastes, styles or outlook. He's essentially reminding them that they too are part of a group. Uh... right, but the group is not white people. I don’t think I’m irony-deficient; what joke’s heart am I cutting to when it say the blog is about yuppies?

The same LA Times article quotes Lander: "I'm writing about the white people who think they're absolutely unique and individual... I'm calling them out and poking fun of myself. The things I post are all the things I like too!"

Oh! Well, whoop-dee-doo for you, Chris! You sound super-dumb, so maybe you should keep letting the journalists speak for you. I don’t think you even have your target audience down. Yuppies don’t think they’re unique; it’s hard to miss all the other people leasing BMWs, joining book clubs, and drinking red wine. The FC is all about shared tastes.

Wait- wait! I think I get the joke. The LA Times article was titled “A blogger explores the attitudes and foibles of a new minority group.” So is the irony that we’re stereotyping yuppies? Is the joke that yuppies aren’t aware they’re part of a group? I don’t think so; anyone who watches TV and movies can figure that out. Are people not aware that stereotypes of “white minorities” exist, other than white trash?

Oh, Lander can help me. From the Globe: "This is the stereotyping of people who have tried to distance themselves from what they perceive as white stereotypes: the white trash, the Republican," says Lander, 29, who works as a copywriter at Schematic, a new media marketing company. "Well, you're still white, you still have white privilege. It still exists, believe it or not. No matter how much you donate to charity or how much organic food you eat, you still have white privilege."

Noooooooooo shit, Sherlock. Wow- this joke is as obvious as I thought, and that’s why I’ve missed it. I commend Lander for writing; writing takes guts and skill, and he’s got that. He’s missing a few key concepts, but I’ll let him slide if he renames his blog. Click here to read more.

Pedestrians Not Safe in Stamford: Duh!

I love the sassy first line of this letter to the editor in the Advocate:
If Stamford police officers want to make our city safer, they need only to place themselves at the Springdale train station at the evening rush.
One of the major differences I noticed when I moved up here from Virginia was how horrifyingly rude cars were to pedestrians. I know it sounds small, but it reflects people's attitudes toward each other. Basically, in the lower FC, the default is to hate others.

A pedestrian could stand for 5 minutes by a "Stop for Pedestrians in the Crosswalk" sign before a driver decides that his or her life can be put on a 20-second hold so someone else can cross the street. In the medium-sized college town I went to, people screeched to a halt if you stepped anywhere near a crosswalk. Granted, most students went to class by foot, so it was a pedestrian culture. Still, many people do walk around here, and cars see them as obstacles rather than people to be protected.

It bothers me that I now, rather than stop, usually keep going if it looks like that's a good option. I do stop when I'm not in a hurry or if I'm feeling relaxed. Crosswalks are an easy opportunity to be nice to people, so I'd like to be better about stopping. I encourage you to do the same; it's good for your state of mind. Life is stressful around here and we need little acts of kindness to stay human. One tip: Try to ignore the driver behind you who looks like he (or just as often, she) wants to rip your head off. It's amazing how much emotion you can observe in your rearview mirror. Click here to read more.

I Don't Like 'Stuff White People Like'

Two people I respect have sent me a link to a site that I find despicable. Since the subject of the website is pretty much Fairfield County, let’s see what you think.

When the title of the website “Stuff White People Like” appeared on my screen, I felt a rush of humor and “that’s so funny” that was quickly replaced by the feeling “I will not give this site my time because the humor is based on ideas of race and class that I don’t find funny.” The site struck me as something a 19-year old boy would write.

Haha, white people like expensive lattes and North Face jackets. Actually, that’s what people with money can afford, and it follows race lines because most money lines in the US lie on race because of our history and all kinds of other complicated things. I refuse to look at the site again to think more about why I feel so repulsed by it.

Even if the site is really about socio-economics (as in “stuff yuppies like”), I personally don't find it that funny to laugh at rich people. It's not such a taboo subject for me that I have to joke about it. I can just discuss it.

I just found an interview with the author of SWPL (young white guy, big surprise). I find his comments absolutely stupid. This man needs to take some sociology classes and get a clue.
SWPL: oh yes. this site pokes fun at ME. that’s why I use pictures of myself. those aren’t taken out of irony. this is the shit that I do. I need to call myself out for all of the stupid shit that I take for granted. why do I need $300 bike rims? why is a $10 sandwich considered normal?

It’s fine that this kid is working through his feelings about race and class, but he’s not calling himself out. He’s just making a bunch of jokes. Often humor deals with things we find uncomfortable. I guess that’s what’s going on with the author of SWPL, but I find his writing small-minded, mean-spirited, and not very enlightening.

I'm not trashing the people who sent me the link... but I want to know why people who I know are intelligent like the site. Why do people who care about race and issues relating to race and class find it funny?

Maybe it’s funny to laugh at people, like the one about how all white people think their kids are gifted. But I don’t have to laugh at that- I can just talk about it, because I know those people. When I had just moved up here from Virginia, 8 years ago, maybe I would have found jokes about yuppies funnier. Maybe it’s now too familiar to me to be funny. Or maybe it’s just not funny because the SWPL author is saying nothing new. I’m from an area where the majority of people were white or black, and I took a lot of courses on African-American history and lit in college, so nothing that SWPL kid is saying are things I haven’t already heard in a way more interesting format.

Can someone please tell me why smart people think the site is funny? Click here to read more.

Mystery, Power: Stamford and the Island of Lost

Stamford will give you what you want if you ask. It’s just like Lost. Locke has faith that the island will show him the right path, but he takes actionable steps like digging up the hatch and blowing up the submarine.

I took actionable steps in August when I started the blog. I said, “I am going to find the good stuff in Stamford and share it with people so they don’t go through the same devastating boredom I experienced when I first lived here.” I had faith that if I asked Stamford to show me something interesting, it would. I have pursued leads on events and places, creeping around Stamford like Locke creeps around the island.

I'm certain I'm on the right path. I ask for weird events and encounters, and I get them. For example, when I went to the Avon Oscar Film Fest on a Saturday morning, I saw a film crew with loads of equipment. I strolled up, got the scoop on the upcoming Kitchen Nightmares show and posted about it. Zobot responded with the info on how to get reservations. If I hadn’t gone to the movies and approached the camera crew guy, I wouldn’t have had any quality gossip to post. I wouldn’t have known how to reserve a spot, and I never would have met Chef Ramsay and made my reality TV debut. One actionable step leads to another.

Getting what you want requires sacrifice, both of yourself and others. Locke has no qualms about killing other people or letting them die if it means he can further his quest to follow the signs to an ultimate end that he doesn’t know but believes is there. I make my husband do all sorts of things like eat dinner with a camera in his face, sit in the Avon’s horrible chairs, and play trivia with complete strangers. I believe something very good will come of these actions.

All of Locke’s actions, no matter how maniacal they seem, are part of the series of events that have led at least some of the castaways off the island.

When I first moved here in 2001, I just sat on the beach complaining. I didn’t know how to get out there into the jungle and make things happen. I didn’t hunt boar or pursue mystical visions in a sweat lodge. I didn’t even get out to collect sticks to build a baby crib.

I took my first step last summer when I joined meetup.com, and that little step has led to a circle of talented friends who have added a lot to my life. Little actions matter, and if you keep at it, Stamford will give you what you are looking for, whether it’s adventure or food or friends.

Lost is a puzzle of people and places, just like Stamford. I don’t understand this town yet, but I’m trying.




I’m thinking about Lost today because it’s Tuesday, the day I let myself start thinking about the upcoming Thursday episode, just 2.5 days away. I’ve only watched the show since November. I roared through 3 seasons in less than 3 months on planes, my couch, and the bike at the gym. My love of Lost has corresponded with a surge of happiness in my life in general, and I don’t think that’s a coincidence.

Sawyer is my favorite character. I hope he lives, but I'm pretty sure he's going to die. Click here to read more.

New Stamford Restaurant Republic Grill, Movies at the Mall, Police Trust Us

On Saturday night, Stamford showed its true, non-cohesive self: a mish-mosh of food styles, social groups, unpredictable alliances, and small-town police antics.

On Bedford Street, the Avon marquee glowed, the white tree lights sparkled, the wholesome crowd at Lucky's smiled…. but Tigin was dead, Egane Korean BBQ patronless, and Bradford’s dart machines deserted. The trendy UMPs* were probably down near Market, Black Bear and the Summer St. Theatre, but I got coerced into seeing Cloverfield at the mall. I don’t LOVE seeing movies with hordes of scruffy teenagers, but I choose to view it as an adventure.

The Stamford Downtown Events Blog** tipped me off to new restaurant Republic Grill. Republic was almost empty, but it had tasty food for good prices, so I’m sure it will get busy soon. Finally, I have found a salad with quality green leaves…. for FOUR bucks!!! YES!!! Republic is five days old, and I liked it, which means Patricia Brooks will be sure to review it next week. Actually, she probably won’t, because it’s a sibling of the Tengdas in Greenwich, Darien, and Westport, and she already gave them the rare rating of excellent. If you go to Republic, ask for the white fish special roll with spicy sauce and tempura outside. Also, if you don't mind, try the watermelon mojito and let me know how it is.

On the way home from the movie, I saw a cop car illegally (!) parked outside McDonald’s with its lights flashing… and NO ONE IN IT. I rubbernecked the sidewalk: Ooh, was he cracking down on some loiterers, investigating an incident? Nope, he was inside, STANDING IN LINE. To some people, that looks like slacking. To me, that shows someone who’s in charge; he knows his audience, and he knows they won’t steal his cop car. If he trusts us enough to leave his car unattended, that shows us something about ourselves. He thinks we’re the kind of people who don’t steal cars, and that makes me proud of this city.

Even Stamford’s youths were mellow, behaving amiably and orderly from previews to credits. Thank you, high schoolers. Cloverfield kept you quiet with all of its pointless noise, and my fondness of you increased when you booed it at the end. I TOTALLY agreed***.


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*Upwardly Mobile Professional, term designed to replace outdated “Yuppies,” since these days, you don’t have to be young to be moving up in the world, at least in the FC.

**The blog rarely gets updated, so don't bother checking it. I'll let you know if anything interested gets posted.

*** Cloverfield was a predictable combo of all the action/horror/sci-fi movies I’ve ever seen: 28 Days Later, Blair Witch Project, Transformers, Spider-Man, etc. It echoed every other movie in which a city gets attacked by a scary creature and/or covered in ice (Day After Tomorrow with Jake Gyllenhall). If you think Cloverfield offered something new, please comment. Oh, and the creature looks exactly like Voldemort mixed with a dragon-ish character from some other film that blends in with all the others. Save your money, and Tivo the old episodes of Battlestar Galactica on the Sci-Fi Channel. How ‘bout those Cylons? Click here to read more.