Published in The Post-Star (B14)
3/19/06
She wore an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, yellow polka-dot bikini...
Yeah, right.
It's no coincidence that all those cellulite-reduction creams, diet pills and spray-on tan products are on sale at drugstores at this time of year. Welcome to swimsuit shopping season, when advertisers take aim at the insecurities many women have been hiding beneath their wool coats all winter.
For most women, the thought of baring their bodies in a bikini is about as welcome as that dream where you find yourself standing at the front of a crowded classroom in your underwear.
"Dimples. I have dimples, and I'm not talking about on my face," said one 22-year-old girl with the slim figure of a dancer, who did not want her name used because she felt self-conscious. "I'm white and pasty, and that never changes. I hate shopping for swimsuits."
According to a recent study by the Dove Campaign for Real Beauty, only 2 percent of women consider themselves beautiful, and at least half think they need to lose weight.
The messageboard on the campaign's Web site provides a glimpse of the inner monologue that goes on daily in women's dressing rooms around the world.
"My boyfriend really wants me to wear a bikini, and I'm terrified about it!" wrote one British user who described herself as size 12 or 14 (10 or 12 in U.S. sizes). "I finally picked one and was so embarrassed that as I was about to pay for it I ran out and put it back and started to cry. I really wanted it and I just wish I had the confidence to buy it."
The campaign tries to alter the negative self-perception that most women have about their bodies by using "real women with real curves" in Dove advertisements instead of anorexic-looking models.
Dove's message of self-acceptance is muddled by the company's product line, which includes "intensive firming cream" that promises to reduce the appearance of cellulite within two weeks.
But hey -- nobody's perfect.
On a recent visit to the swimsuit section at Target in Queensbury, several shoppers were ignoring the skimpiest bikinis in favor of "tankinis" or one-piece suits.
"What am I looking for? Something that will hold in my stomach, and hide a lot," said Cindy Graham, a young mother from Toronto whose family was vacationing at the new Great Escape indoor water park.
She settled on a black one-piece with a tag that promised "a slimming effect."
Meanwhile, her 9-year-old daughter, Emma, was admiring the contents of a nearby rack.
"Mom, look at this nice towel-like substance. What's it called?" she asked.
Her mother smiled.
"Terrycloth," she said. "Those are cover-ups."
Monday, March 27, 2006
Profile of a young techie
Published in The Post-Star (D1)
3/16/06
Something is unusual about Ian Mikutel.
His room is way too clean for a typical teenage boy. His bed is made, his bookshelf is lined with test-prep books, and the only clutter on his desk is a check from Yahoo for ad revenue.
And what's up with the signature on his e-mails?
"CEO, RevolutionReport.com," it reads.
This 18-year-old senior at Glens Falls High School is the co-creator and manager of a Web site with a worldwide staff, the host and editor of a weekly podcast, and a budding expert on the videogaming industry -- all while studying hard enough to rank among the top 10 in his class.
"Yeah, it's kind of crazy," he admitted. "But I don't want to toot my own horn."
Revolution Report, a site dedicated to Nintendo's next-generation console (dubbed "Nintendo Revolution"), is the brainchild of Mikutel and his friend Stephen Mastrangelo, also a senior at Glens Falls High School. More than half a million visitors have surfed their way to the site since they launched it last summer.
It provides gamers with any and all available information -- from official news to Internet messageboard rumors -- about the new console, which is expected to hit the market later this year.
"It's funny, because the whole thing is about something that doesn't even exist yet," Mikutel said. "When you think about it like that, it's amazing that anybody comes to the site at all!"
Each week, the site includes a new downloadable audio file, called a podcast, of Revolution-related news and discussion among Mikutel and a panel of gaming enthusiasts from as far away as Australia. At least 500 people download the one-hour podcasts through the site or iTunes, Mikutel said.
He spends about three hours a week recording and editing the podcast through an Internet telephone system called Skype, and several hours each day maintaining the site and answering readers' questions.
According to Mikutel, his site was the first to focus exclusively on the Revolution.
"The concept is basically that we do one thing, and we do it really well," he explained.
Mikutel made his first Web site about Nintendo when he was a fourth-grader, and another when he was 12, so he already had the technical basics down when he came up with the idea for Revolution Report.
"Everybody knew Nintendo was coming out with a next-generation console, and people in online communities were anxious to learn more about it, but nobody had a site dedicated just to the Revolution," he said. "We were very lucky. Any time you're the first site, a lot of people come."
The site's staff includes about a dozen gamers, scattered around the country and the globe. Mikutel will meet most of them for the first time this May in Los Angeles at the Electronics Entertainment Expo, the gaming industry's largest trade show.
Currently, they are all unpaid volunteers, but that could change someday.
A few weeks ago, Mikutel registered Revolution Report as an official business after receiving his first check from Yahoo for click-through ads placed on the site. It was only about $200, but he was thrilled.
"We don't really do it for money now, but obviously, that's the goal eventually," he said.
Once the console becomes available, Mikutel plans to add game reviews to Revolution Report, which he expects will make the site even more popular by drawing in casual gamers.
"A site like this can really explode, and that's always in the back of my mind," he said. "I'm really curious where it will go. If it explodes, and can support me, great. If it doesn't, oh well. It's a good learning experience."
In the meantime, he plans to attend Rochester Institute of Technology in the fall, where he'll major in information technology.
Does Mikutel think he could be the next Bill Gates someday?
He laughed and shrugged.
"Nah," he said.
It's so easy being green
Published in The Post-Star (D12)
3/16/06
Tree-hugger. Crunchie. Granola.
If you care about saving the earth, but are reluctant to join the ranks of the hemp-wearing, soybean-eating, solar-powered "greenies," fear not. Environmentalism isn't just for extremists anymore.
"We lead what we call 'light green' lifestyles. We're not living in a yurt off the grid; we're clean-cut, normal people, but we do want to have less impact on the earth," explained Jen Boulden, co-founder of the Web site Ideal Bite. "We really believe things have to change, or we're headed down a dangerous path."
Boulden and her business partner, Heather Stephenson, launched Ideal Bite in June 2005 as a way to connect "normal people" like themselves with resources for making more environmentally friendly choices in their daily lives.
"We send out daily tips about ways to take little bites of the 'green apple,' " Boulden said. "These kinds of small bites, when done en masse, can make huge positive changes."
For example, a recent tip points out that mailing in a simple form to the Direct Marketers Association can reduce your junk mail by up to 75 percent. Another notes that the chemicals in many fabric softeners and detergents have been linked to serious illnesses like cancer, and will linger in the natural water supply for years after they've left the rinse cycle.
"Our tips are all about what's going to make your life better AND help the earth," Boulden said.
Boulden, 32, was a consultant to Internet start-up companies when she chose a greener career path about five years ago.
"I had this sort of epiphany that I was working like 60 to 70 hours a week, and I really wasn't helping the world at all," she said. "I was 'selling vapor,' as the saying goes."
She got a degree in environmental policy and management -- what she calls "a green MBA" -- from George Washington University in 2004, and started Ideal Bite about a year later. At least 35,000 people now subscribe to the site's daily tips, and thousands more sign up each month.
"It's grown really organically, no pun intended," Boulden said.
Although Boulden fits the profile of an environmentalist in some ways -- she lives in Montana with a dog named Cricket who wears a hemp collar and eats all-natural pet food -- she refuses to judge those less green.
"I think up until now, there's always been this ideology that it's green versus brown; extreme tree-huggers versus everybody else, and we've tried to have this embracing attitude toward everybody. If you don't recycle, fine, do something else to help the earth," she said. "It's OK not to be perfect. Let's just do what we can."
TIPS FOR GREEN LIVING:
-- Avoid plastic water bottles. Polycarbonate plastic used in disposable water bottles can leach bisphenol-A, a chemical linked to increased risk of miscarriage, birth defects and prostate cancer. Safer options include stainless steel, glass or reusable HDPE #2 plastic (Nalgene now offers this option, although their standard bottles are polycarbonate).
-- Slim down in the shower. Parabens, the synthetic compounds lurking in many personal care products, can disrupt the endocrine system and cause weight gain or even lead to cancer. Look at the ingredients next time you purchase shampoo, shaving gel or makeup, and try to avoid things ending in -paraben. Tea tree oil is a safe, natural alternative. Also, consider reducing your shampoo use to every other day, which most stylists recommend for optimum hair health.
-- Drink fairly traded, organic coffee. Buying brands with a "fair trade" label means that the farmers who work so hard to grow those beautiful beans get a living wage, and buying organic means the soil won't have to drink up the nasty chemicals in fertilizers and pesticides.
-- Clean the lint screen in your dryer. This is as easy as it sounds, yet some people don't do it regularly. Keeping the screen clean makes your dryer up to 30 percent more energy-efficient, reduces a fire hazard, and satisfies the obsessive-compulsive streak in all of us.
Source: www.idealbite.com/tiplibrary
ON THE WEB
Buying green: www.thegreenguide.org
Reducing junk mail: www.dmaconsumers.org
Recycling cell phones: www.redjellyfish.com
Recycling batteries: www.earth911.org
Light commentary: idealbite.blogs.com and www.lazyenvironmentalist.com
In-depth environmental news: www.grist.org
3/16/06
Tree-hugger. Crunchie. Granola.
If you care about saving the earth, but are reluctant to join the ranks of the hemp-wearing, soybean-eating, solar-powered "greenies," fear not. Environmentalism isn't just for extremists anymore.
"We lead what we call 'light green' lifestyles. We're not living in a yurt off the grid; we're clean-cut, normal people, but we do want to have less impact on the earth," explained Jen Boulden, co-founder of the Web site Ideal Bite. "We really believe things have to change, or we're headed down a dangerous path."
Boulden and her business partner, Heather Stephenson, launched Ideal Bite in June 2005 as a way to connect "normal people" like themselves with resources for making more environmentally friendly choices in their daily lives.
"We send out daily tips about ways to take little bites of the 'green apple,' " Boulden said. "These kinds of small bites, when done en masse, can make huge positive changes."
For example, a recent tip points out that mailing in a simple form to the Direct Marketers Association can reduce your junk mail by up to 75 percent. Another notes that the chemicals in many fabric softeners and detergents have been linked to serious illnesses like cancer, and will linger in the natural water supply for years after they've left the rinse cycle.
"Our tips are all about what's going to make your life better AND help the earth," Boulden said.
Boulden, 32, was a consultant to Internet start-up companies when she chose a greener career path about five years ago.
"I had this sort of epiphany that I was working like 60 to 70 hours a week, and I really wasn't helping the world at all," she said. "I was 'selling vapor,' as the saying goes."
She got a degree in environmental policy and management -- what she calls "a green MBA" -- from George Washington University in 2004, and started Ideal Bite about a year later. At least 35,000 people now subscribe to the site's daily tips, and thousands more sign up each month.
"It's grown really organically, no pun intended," Boulden said.
Although Boulden fits the profile of an environmentalist in some ways -- she lives in Montana with a dog named Cricket who wears a hemp collar and eats all-natural pet food -- she refuses to judge those less green.
"I think up until now, there's always been this ideology that it's green versus brown; extreme tree-huggers versus everybody else, and we've tried to have this embracing attitude toward everybody. If you don't recycle, fine, do something else to help the earth," she said. "It's OK not to be perfect. Let's just do what we can."
TIPS FOR GREEN LIVING:
-- Avoid plastic water bottles. Polycarbonate plastic used in disposable water bottles can leach bisphenol-A, a chemical linked to increased risk of miscarriage, birth defects and prostate cancer. Safer options include stainless steel, glass or reusable HDPE #2 plastic (Nalgene now offers this option, although their standard bottles are polycarbonate).
-- Slim down in the shower. Parabens, the synthetic compounds lurking in many personal care products, can disrupt the endocrine system and cause weight gain or even lead to cancer. Look at the ingredients next time you purchase shampoo, shaving gel or makeup, and try to avoid things ending in -paraben. Tea tree oil is a safe, natural alternative. Also, consider reducing your shampoo use to every other day, which most stylists recommend for optimum hair health.
-- Drink fairly traded, organic coffee. Buying brands with a "fair trade" label means that the farmers who work so hard to grow those beautiful beans get a living wage, and buying organic means the soil won't have to drink up the nasty chemicals in fertilizers and pesticides.
-- Clean the lint screen in your dryer. This is as easy as it sounds, yet some people don't do it regularly. Keeping the screen clean makes your dryer up to 30 percent more energy-efficient, reduces a fire hazard, and satisfies the obsessive-compulsive streak in all of us.
Source: www.idealbite.com/tiplibrary
ON THE WEB
Buying green: www.thegreenguide.org
Reducing junk mail: www.dmaconsumers.org
Recycling cell phones: www.redjellyfish.com
Recycling batteries: www.earth911.org
Light commentary: idealbite.blogs.com and www.lazyenvironmentalist.com
In-depth environmental news: www.grist.org
Behind the bottles
Published on poststar.com with a companion video report
3/6/06
Ed Bethel's best shot at second career started at hunting camp.
One weekend in the early '90s, one of his hunting buddies showed up at camp with a few bottles of home-brewed beer. Bethel took a sip.
It was good -- so good that it changed his life.
After finishing off the homemade stuff, the guys moved on to cans of what Bethel called "my beloved Genesee Light." The commercial brew tasted awful by comparison.
"I just looked at the can, like, what the heck happened to you?" he remembered.
Over the next few years, Bethel started brewing beer in his kitchen, and became fascinated with the business of microbrewing. When the valve company where he had worked for a decade decided to leave the area, Bethel and his wife, Patty, decided to explore a new venture.
They visited microbreweries as far away as Nova Scotia to learn from others' methods, scoured the classifieds for used equipment, and soon gained a partner -- their son, Adrian.
On St. Patrick's Day in 1999, the family opened Cooper's Cave Ale Company in an old industrial building on the corner of Sagamore Street and Dix Avenue in Glens Falls. Seven years later, the business is barreling along at full speed as more and more local folks discover the tasty brews that Ed Bethel creates from the simple ingredients of water, malted barley, hops, and yeast.
Although Bethel stays up until 4 a.m. most mornings brewing, he seems to have bottled up a secret stash of energy and humor. In his work gear -- a white lab coat, dust mask, and a baseball cap over his long, grey, braided ponytail -- he looks a little like a mad scientist. And in a sense, he knows it's crazy to put so much work into a process that could be mechanized.
"It's truly a labor of love," he admitted, as he climbed a ladder and grabbed a rake to stir several heavy sacks of malted barley into an elevated vat called a mash tun.
"Of course, to make good beer, you have to have good music," Bethel added, humming along to a jazz recording.
As the mash boiled, Bethel added hops, the ingredient that gives beer its bitter flavor and unique aroma. It also acts as a natural filter.
After about an hour and a half of boiling, the liquor was extracted from the mash and sent to the fermentation room, where it will sit in open stainless steel tanks for up to a week as the yeast takes action.
"It looks marshmallowy at first, and when it's done, it's more like mud pie," Bethel said.
The newborn beer is then conditioned and carbonated in pressurized tanks, then clarified with natural agents like seaweed.
Cooper's Cave Ale Company makes about 450 barrels of beer a year, in batches of seven 31-gallon barrels at a time, and Bethel said his favorite part of being a brewer is sampling each batch.
"That's not a tough job. Most people want it, but I'm not giving it up," he says, laughing. "I like 'em all."
3/6/06
Ed Bethel's best shot at second career started at hunting camp.
One weekend in the early '90s, one of his hunting buddies showed up at camp with a few bottles of home-brewed beer. Bethel took a sip.
It was good -- so good that it changed his life.
After finishing off the homemade stuff, the guys moved on to cans of what Bethel called "my beloved Genesee Light." The commercial brew tasted awful by comparison.
"I just looked at the can, like, what the heck happened to you?" he remembered.
Over the next few years, Bethel started brewing beer in his kitchen, and became fascinated with the business of microbrewing. When the valve company where he had worked for a decade decided to leave the area, Bethel and his wife, Patty, decided to explore a new venture.
They visited microbreweries as far away as Nova Scotia to learn from others' methods, scoured the classifieds for used equipment, and soon gained a partner -- their son, Adrian.
On St. Patrick's Day in 1999, the family opened Cooper's Cave Ale Company in an old industrial building on the corner of Sagamore Street and Dix Avenue in Glens Falls. Seven years later, the business is barreling along at full speed as more and more local folks discover the tasty brews that Ed Bethel creates from the simple ingredients of water, malted barley, hops, and yeast.
Although Bethel stays up until 4 a.m. most mornings brewing, he seems to have bottled up a secret stash of energy and humor. In his work gear -- a white lab coat, dust mask, and a baseball cap over his long, grey, braided ponytail -- he looks a little like a mad scientist. And in a sense, he knows it's crazy to put so much work into a process that could be mechanized.
"It's truly a labor of love," he admitted, as he climbed a ladder and grabbed a rake to stir several heavy sacks of malted barley into an elevated vat called a mash tun.
"Of course, to make good beer, you have to have good music," Bethel added, humming along to a jazz recording.
As the mash boiled, Bethel added hops, the ingredient that gives beer its bitter flavor and unique aroma. It also acts as a natural filter.
After about an hour and a half of boiling, the liquor was extracted from the mash and sent to the fermentation room, where it will sit in open stainless steel tanks for up to a week as the yeast takes action.
"It looks marshmallowy at first, and when it's done, it's more like mud pie," Bethel said.
The newborn beer is then conditioned and carbonated in pressurized tanks, then clarified with natural agents like seaweed.
Cooper's Cave Ale Company makes about 450 barrels of beer a year, in batches of seven 31-gallon barrels at a time, and Bethel said his favorite part of being a brewer is sampling each batch.
"That's not a tough job. Most people want it, but I'm not giving it up," he says, laughing. "I like 'em all."
Messages from a small town
Published in The Post-Star (D1)
3/14/06
GLENS FALLS -- These days, some of the most interesting stories at Crandall Public Library have been etched onto silver in an alphabet of light and faces, not typed on pages.
The walls of the small basement gallery space in the library's Folklife Center are heavy with several decades worth of visual regional history, culled from a lifetime of work by the Vermont-based photographer Neil Rappaport.
Rappaport believed in the power of images to tell stories, and he believed that the stories of ordinary people are worth telling. As a self-taught documentary photographer, Rappaport spent years with some of his subjects, following them through the details of their daily lives with a clunky old view camera and an almost tangible sense of empathy.
"He was interested in documenting relationships, and he had a way of building relationships with his subjects as he did that," said his wife, Susanne, who now manages her late husband's collection.
The 62 black-and-white prints in the current exhibit give viewers a glimpse of life in Pawlet, Vt., where the Rappaports lived for 30 years. In the 1980s, Neil made it his mission to conduct a "visual census," taking photos of every Pawlet resident in settings that ranged from living rooms to dairy barns.
As a native of New York City, Rappaport was fascinated by the way his rural neighbors made a living through manual labor. The exhibit includes images from his series of photographs of workers at the Ross Valve Manufacturing Facility in Troy and the granite mines in Granville.
"Making photographs was a way of learning for him. If he could photograph it, he could understand it," explained Susanne.
The exhibit also includes five portraits of inmates at Great Meadow state prison in Comstock in the 1970s, where Rappaport volunteered to teach photography in exchange for permission to use his students as subjects.
"I think it was at the prison that he really learned how to take portraits," said Susanne.
Rappaport died suddenly of lung cancer in 1998, when he was 56. Susanne, who still lives in Pawlet, has spent the last several years sifting through the "hundreds of thousands" of prints and negatives that Neil took in his lifetime. Last year, she published a book that combines her husband's work with historical photographs of Pawlet taken by two local women in the early 20th century. The book also includes excerpts from oral histories of Pawlet residents, which Susanne recorded in collaboration with her husband's visual census project.
Susanne said her next goal is to find a permanent home for her husband's work at an institution that can preserve and maintain the collection, and hopefully use it to teach future photographers.
"Neil felt strongly about leaving a record. He believed that you had to know what had come before you in order to live your life and anticipate the future, and he saw photography as a way to do that," said Rappaport's wife, Susanne. "Photography is always about time, in one way or another."
3/14/06
GLENS FALLS -- These days, some of the most interesting stories at Crandall Public Library have been etched onto silver in an alphabet of light and faces, not typed on pages.
The walls of the small basement gallery space in the library's Folklife Center are heavy with several decades worth of visual regional history, culled from a lifetime of work by the Vermont-based photographer Neil Rappaport.
Rappaport believed in the power of images to tell stories, and he believed that the stories of ordinary people are worth telling. As a self-taught documentary photographer, Rappaport spent years with some of his subjects, following them through the details of their daily lives with a clunky old view camera and an almost tangible sense of empathy.
"He was interested in documenting relationships, and he had a way of building relationships with his subjects as he did that," said his wife, Susanne, who now manages her late husband's collection.
The 62 black-and-white prints in the current exhibit give viewers a glimpse of life in Pawlet, Vt., where the Rappaports lived for 30 years. In the 1980s, Neil made it his mission to conduct a "visual census," taking photos of every Pawlet resident in settings that ranged from living rooms to dairy barns.
As a native of New York City, Rappaport was fascinated by the way his rural neighbors made a living through manual labor. The exhibit includes images from his series of photographs of workers at the Ross Valve Manufacturing Facility in Troy and the granite mines in Granville.
"Making photographs was a way of learning for him. If he could photograph it, he could understand it," explained Susanne.
The exhibit also includes five portraits of inmates at Great Meadow state prison in Comstock in the 1970s, where Rappaport volunteered to teach photography in exchange for permission to use his students as subjects.
"I think it was at the prison that he really learned how to take portraits," said Susanne.
Rappaport died suddenly of lung cancer in 1998, when he was 56. Susanne, who still lives in Pawlet, has spent the last several years sifting through the "hundreds of thousands" of prints and negatives that Neil took in his lifetime. Last year, she published a book that combines her husband's work with historical photographs of Pawlet taken by two local women in the early 20th century. The book also includes excerpts from oral histories of Pawlet residents, which Susanne recorded in collaboration with her husband's visual census project.
Susanne said her next goal is to find a permanent home for her husband's work at an institution that can preserve and maintain the collection, and hopefully use it to teach future photographers.
"Neil felt strongly about leaving a record. He believed that you had to know what had come before you in order to live your life and anticipate the future, and he saw photography as a way to do that," said Rappaport's wife, Susanne. "Photography is always about time, in one way or another."
Monday, March 13, 2006
"Slice of Life" at Saratoga Diner
Published in The Post-Star (D1)
3/08/06
Editor's note: "Slice of Life" appears every third week in Arts Life, and looks at the atmosphere of a local diner.
Sunshine slanted through the windows of the Saratoga Diner on recent weekday morning, glinting off the thick glasses of a white-haired man enjoying a plate of Belgian waffles. A miniature white statue of a shirtless Venus watched him from the windowsill. An oxygen tank sat at his side, connected to his nose by a plastic tube.
He beckoned to a waitress who was moving around the large dining room with a glass coffee pot in each hand -- the orange-handled pot of decaffeinated brew was still mostly full, while the stronger stuff emptied quickly.
"Could I bother you for a refill, when you have a minute?" he asked.
She topped off his cup with regular, then hustled back to the kitchen with a weary half-smile on her face.
In one booth, a pretty young woman tucked her feet up on her seat and let her body relax against the wall, where images of flying horse hooves and the crowded stands of the local racetrack loomed above her in a colorful mural. She smiled at the young man seated across from her as he leaned over his coffee cup to tell her something.
A few feet away, a toddler giggled at his mother as he ducked his head beneath the edge of the checked plastic tablecloth. She gave an exasperated sigh, but smiled as she cut his French toast into tiny pieces.
Near the entrance, a neatly dressed young woman stood with a cellphone to her ear. When a sea of navy blue and white uniforms swept through the diner's doors at about 10 a.m., her face broke into a wide grin. One of the sailors threw his arms around her and swung her around in an embrace that lifted her feet off the flowered carpet for several seconds.
The waitresses pushed several tables together in the back of the dining room to make space for the group of sailors, which grew larger by the minute.
While the sailors scanned their menus, the mother and toddler got up to leave. The little boy's head swiveled to stare at the men in uniform, making him stumble as his mother guided him toward the door.
A waitress smiled as she watched them leave, then looked down at her hands, sighed, and returned to the kitchen.
The coffee pot was almost empty again.
#
3/08/06
Editor's note: "Slice of Life" appears every third week in Arts Life, and looks at the atmosphere of a local diner.
Sunshine slanted through the windows of the Saratoga Diner on recent weekday morning, glinting off the thick glasses of a white-haired man enjoying a plate of Belgian waffles. A miniature white statue of a shirtless Venus watched him from the windowsill. An oxygen tank sat at his side, connected to his nose by a plastic tube.
He beckoned to a waitress who was moving around the large dining room with a glass coffee pot in each hand -- the orange-handled pot of decaffeinated brew was still mostly full, while the stronger stuff emptied quickly.
"Could I bother you for a refill, when you have a minute?" he asked.
She topped off his cup with regular, then hustled back to the kitchen with a weary half-smile on her face.
In one booth, a pretty young woman tucked her feet up on her seat and let her body relax against the wall, where images of flying horse hooves and the crowded stands of the local racetrack loomed above her in a colorful mural. She smiled at the young man seated across from her as he leaned over his coffee cup to tell her something.
A few feet away, a toddler giggled at his mother as he ducked his head beneath the edge of the checked plastic tablecloth. She gave an exasperated sigh, but smiled as she cut his French toast into tiny pieces.
Near the entrance, a neatly dressed young woman stood with a cellphone to her ear. When a sea of navy blue and white uniforms swept through the diner's doors at about 10 a.m., her face broke into a wide grin. One of the sailors threw his arms around her and swung her around in an embrace that lifted her feet off the flowered carpet for several seconds.
The waitresses pushed several tables together in the back of the dining room to make space for the group of sailors, which grew larger by the minute.
While the sailors scanned their menus, the mother and toddler got up to leave. The little boy's head swiveled to stare at the men in uniform, making him stumble as his mother guided him toward the door.
A waitress smiled as she watched them leave, then looked down at her hands, sighed, and returned to the kitchen.
The coffee pot was almost empty again.
#
Homeless, but not hopeless
Published in The Post-Star (A1)
3/06/06
It’s hard to get philosophical about life’s deeper issues when you can’t stop shivering.
Peter Fish knows from experience.
In his almost 40 years of living, he has been homeless more than once. He knows what it’s like to wear the same clothes for so long that you’re tempted to steal laundry from clotheslines. He knows that sleeping on the streets can get you beaten up. He knows that even chicken from a
trash can tastes wonderful when you haven’t had a real meal in three weeks.
Things have never been easy for Fish. He spent his childhood in foster care and boys homes after leaving an abusive home. He suffers from epileptic seizures and describes himself as "slow." He has had problems with the law because he can’t control his anger at times, although lately he’s been trying to leave everything in God’s hands.
When he married Nina, a sweet-faced older woman he met at a soup kitchen, it became easier to afford rent with their combined disability checks. They now share a small one-bedroom apartment on Warren Street and said they consider it a palace.
Peter’s story is complicated, but he’s very clear about one thing.
"It’s never good to be homeless," he said repeatedly. "Until you experience it for yourself, you don’t know what it’s like. I don’t want to think about ever being homeless again."
Cliff Green is hoping that homelessness will be nothing more than an unwelcome memory for many more people soon.
He helps lead a coalition that recently received a federal grant to help local homeless people pay for apartments — and become stable enough to keep them.
Green coordinates a local dual-recovery program for people coping with mental health and substance abuse issues, and is the co-chairman of the Warren/Washington/Hamilton Housing Coalition.
"If the first thing you’re trying to do with a person is to get them to address mental health and substance abuse problems, and they don’t know where they’re going to stay for the next night — they know you’re not really listening to what they need," said Green. "You have to meet their basic needs first if you want to establish a relationship with them."
The Housing Coalition, formed in 2004, is an alliance of more than 20 social services and community agencies that aims to develop affordable housing options for the local homeless population.
"Over the years, the agencies who provide mental health and substance abuse services have seen an increase in the number of clients who are homeless," said Lisa Coutu, the coalition’s co-chair. "We realized we needed to address that very basic problem to be able to provide services to these people."
On a single day in January 2005, the coalition counted 198 homeless individuals in Warren and Washington counties, including 24 children. While some of those people had found temporary shelters or cheap motel rooms, about one-quarter were sleeping outside or in abandoned buildings.
"I was shocked that the number was so high," said Green. "It really drew our attention to what the need was."
This year, the Housing Coalition received a $436,320, five-year federal grant to provide 14 subsidized apartments for homeless people disabled by severe mental illness, HIV/AIDS or substance abuse. The apartments will be managed by the Glens Falls Housing Authority and are located throughout Warren County and in Hudson Falls.
In exchange for a voucher that pays up to 70 percent of their rent, recipients are expected to spend "in-kind funds" to get the treatment and support they need. In other words, if the grant pays $300 of their rent each month, they must spend at least $300 a month at a participating service provider, such as Warren Washington Association for Mental Health. Medicaid will cover these costs in most cases.
The grant could benefit people like Gary Perkins and his wife, Cindy, who are facing the prospect of being homeless again. They have spent the past three weeks in a $100-a-week room at the dilapidated Hotel Madden on South Street, eating at the soup kitchen next door and waiting for their next disability checks.
Gary used to be a dairy farmer in Vermont, but his life hit a downward spiral in the past decade. A car accident nearly killed him in the early ’90s, leaving him with back pain and a broken rib that won’t heal. He lost the farm, started drinking and ended up drifting from place to place. He married Cindy, a former truck driver with multiple sclerosis, about three years ago.
They came to New York last summer hoping things would be better here, but things got worse. Gary blames it on the Social Services administration, which he said puts too many restrictions on their disability checks.
They’re already a week behind on rent at the Madden and don’t know where to turn for help.
Gary has stopped attending Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, and is angry and frustrated with his life — so angry that he punched a cement wall and broke his knuckles a week ago.
"I just don’t know what to do anymore. I mean, look at this. I’ve been low, but never this low," he said. He gestured around their small room, which contained a single bed, a sagging couch, a television and some empty beer and food cans.
"We would love to have an apartment, hopefully on the first floor. We’ve tried to get one, but everybody wants a big security deposit, and we’re just barely getting by right now," he said. "We’ve never had anything of our own."
For people like Fish, even a small apartment feels like a huge blessing.
"After being homeless, you look at your apartment totally different. We appreciate what we got, what God’s given to us," he said.
The couple’s funds are sparse after paying the rent each month, and they worry about the future. They eat most of their meals at The Open Door soup kitchen on South Street — that is, they did until a week ago, when Peter’s anger flared out of control again, and he threatened an elderly woman and a volunteer. Director Bruce Hersey banned him from the premises for at least two months.
"We told him that his wife is welcome to come and bring him home meals, or we can deliver them to his house, but he can’t come here. This has to be a safe place," Hersey explained.
Hersey said he thinks Fish would be an excellent candidate for the type of housing and treatment combination the new grant will provide.
"In this society, he’s failing and is prone to become homeless again," he said. "Peter has such a good heart, but he needs a stabilizing environment."
Hersey said he sees a need for more "transitional housing" in the Glens Falls area and is excited to see so many agencies working together to serve the homeless population through the Housing Coalition.
"Transitional housing means giving people help getting on their feet. It means getting them into a program for treatment and counseling, where there’s structure and accountability," he explained. "Then you want to tie them into some sort of positive supportive system so you can wean them off the program."
That’s what Fish believes, too.
"I see a lot of people getting evicted from apartments because they don’t know how to take care of them, or because they’re drinkin’ and druggin’," he said. "Instead of just giving them money, why can’t we use the system to help them, so they will stay in the apartments?"
#
3/06/06
It’s hard to get philosophical about life’s deeper issues when you can’t stop shivering.
Peter Fish knows from experience.
In his almost 40 years of living, he has been homeless more than once. He knows what it’s like to wear the same clothes for so long that you’re tempted to steal laundry from clotheslines. He knows that sleeping on the streets can get you beaten up. He knows that even chicken from a
trash can tastes wonderful when you haven’t had a real meal in three weeks.
Things have never been easy for Fish. He spent his childhood in foster care and boys homes after leaving an abusive home. He suffers from epileptic seizures and describes himself as "slow." He has had problems with the law because he can’t control his anger at times, although lately he’s been trying to leave everything in God’s hands.
When he married Nina, a sweet-faced older woman he met at a soup kitchen, it became easier to afford rent with their combined disability checks. They now share a small one-bedroom apartment on Warren Street and said they consider it a palace.
Peter’s story is complicated, but he’s very clear about one thing.
"It’s never good to be homeless," he said repeatedly. "Until you experience it for yourself, you don’t know what it’s like. I don’t want to think about ever being homeless again."
Cliff Green is hoping that homelessness will be nothing more than an unwelcome memory for many more people soon.
He helps lead a coalition that recently received a federal grant to help local homeless people pay for apartments — and become stable enough to keep them.
Green coordinates a local dual-recovery program for people coping with mental health and substance abuse issues, and is the co-chairman of the Warren/Washington/Hamilton Housing Coalition.
"If the first thing you’re trying to do with a person is to get them to address mental health and substance abuse problems, and they don’t know where they’re going to stay for the next night — they know you’re not really listening to what they need," said Green. "You have to meet their basic needs first if you want to establish a relationship with them."
The Housing Coalition, formed in 2004, is an alliance of more than 20 social services and community agencies that aims to develop affordable housing options for the local homeless population.
"Over the years, the agencies who provide mental health and substance abuse services have seen an increase in the number of clients who are homeless," said Lisa Coutu, the coalition’s co-chair. "We realized we needed to address that very basic problem to be able to provide services to these people."
On a single day in January 2005, the coalition counted 198 homeless individuals in Warren and Washington counties, including 24 children. While some of those people had found temporary shelters or cheap motel rooms, about one-quarter were sleeping outside or in abandoned buildings.
"I was shocked that the number was so high," said Green. "It really drew our attention to what the need was."
This year, the Housing Coalition received a $436,320, five-year federal grant to provide 14 subsidized apartments for homeless people disabled by severe mental illness, HIV/AIDS or substance abuse. The apartments will be managed by the Glens Falls Housing Authority and are located throughout Warren County and in Hudson Falls.
In exchange for a voucher that pays up to 70 percent of their rent, recipients are expected to spend "in-kind funds" to get the treatment and support they need. In other words, if the grant pays $300 of their rent each month, they must spend at least $300 a month at a participating service provider, such as Warren Washington Association for Mental Health. Medicaid will cover these costs in most cases.
The grant could benefit people like Gary Perkins and his wife, Cindy, who are facing the prospect of being homeless again. They have spent the past three weeks in a $100-a-week room at the dilapidated Hotel Madden on South Street, eating at the soup kitchen next door and waiting for their next disability checks.
Gary used to be a dairy farmer in Vermont, but his life hit a downward spiral in the past decade. A car accident nearly killed him in the early ’90s, leaving him with back pain and a broken rib that won’t heal. He lost the farm, started drinking and ended up drifting from place to place. He married Cindy, a former truck driver with multiple sclerosis, about three years ago.
They came to New York last summer hoping things would be better here, but things got worse. Gary blames it on the Social Services administration, which he said puts too many restrictions on their disability checks.
They’re already a week behind on rent at the Madden and don’t know where to turn for help.
Gary has stopped attending Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, and is angry and frustrated with his life — so angry that he punched a cement wall and broke his knuckles a week ago.
"I just don’t know what to do anymore. I mean, look at this. I’ve been low, but never this low," he said. He gestured around their small room, which contained a single bed, a sagging couch, a television and some empty beer and food cans.
"We would love to have an apartment, hopefully on the first floor. We’ve tried to get one, but everybody wants a big security deposit, and we’re just barely getting by right now," he said. "We’ve never had anything of our own."
For people like Fish, even a small apartment feels like a huge blessing.
"After being homeless, you look at your apartment totally different. We appreciate what we got, what God’s given to us," he said.
The couple’s funds are sparse after paying the rent each month, and they worry about the future. They eat most of their meals at The Open Door soup kitchen on South Street — that is, they did until a week ago, when Peter’s anger flared out of control again, and he threatened an elderly woman and a volunteer. Director Bruce Hersey banned him from the premises for at least two months.
"We told him that his wife is welcome to come and bring him home meals, or we can deliver them to his house, but he can’t come here. This has to be a safe place," Hersey explained.
Hersey said he thinks Fish would be an excellent candidate for the type of housing and treatment combination the new grant will provide.
"In this society, he’s failing and is prone to become homeless again," he said. "Peter has such a good heart, but he needs a stabilizing environment."
Hersey said he sees a need for more "transitional housing" in the Glens Falls area and is excited to see so many agencies working together to serve the homeless population through the Housing Coalition.
"Transitional housing means giving people help getting on their feet. It means getting them into a program for treatment and counseling, where there’s structure and accountability," he explained. "Then you want to tie them into some sort of positive supportive system so you can wean them off the program."
That’s what Fish believes, too.
"I see a lot of people getting evicted from apartments because they don’t know how to take care of them, or because they’re drinkin’ and druggin’," he said. "Instead of just giving them money, why can’t we use the system to help them, so they will stay in the apartments?"
#
Contra dancing
Published in The Post-Star (G1)
3/2/06
The couples face each other in long lines as the music begins, then lock eyes and clasp hands as their bodies move closer. After a swirl of motion and eight beats of music, the lines shift to create new couples.
Speed dating meets musical chairs?
No, this is contradancing, a centuries-old form of entertainment that is still bringing people together.
"It's a scene where you can be friendly with people, look into their eyes, and move on," explained Doug Haller, a board member of Hudson-Mohawk Traditional Dances, which sponsors monthly contradances in Ballston Spa.
"I've heard a lot of people comment that going to bars is not necessarily the best way to meet people," he added. "And this definitely isn't the bar scene."
It certainly isn't. The dances take place in the wood-floored sanctuary of the First Presbyterian Church, and the only drinks in sight are water bottles and coffee cups. Getting sweaty on the dance floor means swinging and spinning, not bumping and grinding.
"It's really a wonderful feeling when you come out of a spin at the right time and there's your partner, falling into your arms," Haller said. "And by the end of the night, you've probably danced with everyone in the room."
Sometimes, you find a partner worth holding on to, Haller pointed out. He met his wife, Ann, at a Saratoga contradance about seven years ago. Rich Futyma and his wife of three years, Maria, also met contradancing.
"I always think of contradancing as being good for a person in three ways -- it's a cultural event, it's exercise and it's social. It lets you interact with people even if you're relatively shy," said Futyma, an environmental consultant from Ballston Spa who organizes the local contradances.
Contradances are set to live music, usually bouncy Irish jigs and reels that involve a fiddle. Futyma said contradancing descends from 17th-century English country dancing, which could explain the name.
"One theory is that the word 'contra' is simply a French corruption of the word 'country,' that started when contradancing was carrried over to France," he said. The term could also refer to the fact that dancers line up against each other.
A caller gives instructions at the beginning of each dance number, making it easy for even the clumsiest novice to participate.
"There's a saying that if you can walk, count to eight, and know your left from your right, you can contra dance," Haller said.
Children as young as 8 were keeping up with the adults, proving his point.
One divorced father brought his kids along, and let them dance on their own while he worked his way down the line looking for ladies to flirt with. It's the best of both worlds, he pointed out -- a dating scene with built-in babysitting.
For 22-year-old Rebecca Swank, who said she started dancing "in the womb," contra dances are about having fun, not getting a date. She brought her own.
Her boyfriend, 21-year-old Kyle Morse, became a contra dancer about four years ago.
"I roped him into it," Swank said with a sly smile. "You'll not find a friendlier, more outgoing group of people than in this environment."
Morse nodded.
"It's just a nice, social thing," he said.
Proceeds from Saturday night's dance went to benefit the Dance Flurry, which is facing at least a $75,000 loss this year because last month's power outage in Saratoga Springs forced organizers to cancel most of the three-day annual festival. Other benefits are in the works, said Haller, the administrative director of the Dance Flurry.
"We've already seen several big checks tonight, and that's encouraging," he said. "We hope to make over $1,000 tonight."
Contradancing is always part of the Dance Flurry, he said, and it's often a first step into other forms of traditional and folk dancing.
"It's the easiest to get started in, so it's a portal to the rest of the dance world," Haller said. "Most of what you're doing is walking, basically."
#
3/2/06
The couples face each other in long lines as the music begins, then lock eyes and clasp hands as their bodies move closer. After a swirl of motion and eight beats of music, the lines shift to create new couples.
Speed dating meets musical chairs?
No, this is contradancing, a centuries-old form of entertainment that is still bringing people together.
"It's a scene where you can be friendly with people, look into their eyes, and move on," explained Doug Haller, a board member of Hudson-Mohawk Traditional Dances, which sponsors monthly contradances in Ballston Spa.
"I've heard a lot of people comment that going to bars is not necessarily the best way to meet people," he added. "And this definitely isn't the bar scene."
It certainly isn't. The dances take place in the wood-floored sanctuary of the First Presbyterian Church, and the only drinks in sight are water bottles and coffee cups. Getting sweaty on the dance floor means swinging and spinning, not bumping and grinding.
"It's really a wonderful feeling when you come out of a spin at the right time and there's your partner, falling into your arms," Haller said. "And by the end of the night, you've probably danced with everyone in the room."
Sometimes, you find a partner worth holding on to, Haller pointed out. He met his wife, Ann, at a Saratoga contradance about seven years ago. Rich Futyma and his wife of three years, Maria, also met contradancing.
"I always think of contradancing as being good for a person in three ways -- it's a cultural event, it's exercise and it's social. It lets you interact with people even if you're relatively shy," said Futyma, an environmental consultant from Ballston Spa who organizes the local contradances.
Contradances are set to live music, usually bouncy Irish jigs and reels that involve a fiddle. Futyma said contradancing descends from 17th-century English country dancing, which could explain the name.
"One theory is that the word 'contra' is simply a French corruption of the word 'country,' that started when contradancing was carrried over to France," he said. The term could also refer to the fact that dancers line up against each other.
A caller gives instructions at the beginning of each dance number, making it easy for even the clumsiest novice to participate.
"There's a saying that if you can walk, count to eight, and know your left from your right, you can contra dance," Haller said.
Children as young as 8 were keeping up with the adults, proving his point.
One divorced father brought his kids along, and let them dance on their own while he worked his way down the line looking for ladies to flirt with. It's the best of both worlds, he pointed out -- a dating scene with built-in babysitting.
For 22-year-old Rebecca Swank, who said she started dancing "in the womb," contra dances are about having fun, not getting a date. She brought her own.
Her boyfriend, 21-year-old Kyle Morse, became a contra dancer about four years ago.
"I roped him into it," Swank said with a sly smile. "You'll not find a friendlier, more outgoing group of people than in this environment."
Morse nodded.
"It's just a nice, social thing," he said.
Proceeds from Saturday night's dance went to benefit the Dance Flurry, which is facing at least a $75,000 loss this year because last month's power outage in Saratoga Springs forced organizers to cancel most of the three-day annual festival. Other benefits are in the works, said Haller, the administrative director of the Dance Flurry.
"We've already seen several big checks tonight, and that's encouraging," he said. "We hope to make over $1,000 tonight."
Contradancing is always part of the Dance Flurry, he said, and it's often a first step into other forms of traditional and folk dancing.
"It's the easiest to get started in, so it's a portal to the rest of the dance world," Haller said. "Most of what you're doing is walking, basically."
#
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Ritual moments series: Ash Wednesday
Published in The Post-Star (D1)
3/2/06
"Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return."
The Rev. Scott Harding repeated these words dozens of times Wednesday over the kneeling figures of congregants at Church of the Messiah, an Episcopal church in downtown Glens Falls.
Each time, he dipped his right thumb into a small brass bowl in the palm of his left hand. The bowl held the ashes of burnt palm branches -- the same branches used last year to celebrate Palm Sunday, the beginning of the Holy Week before Easter.
For Christians, Ash Wednesday marks the start of the season of Lent, the 40 days preceding Easter (Sundays aren't counted). It is a season of penitence, or remorse for one's sins, and ashes have been used since Biblical times as a sign of mourning.
"Grant that these ashes may be a sign to us of our mortality and penitence, that we may remember that it is only by your gracious gift that we are given everlasting life, through Jesus Christ our Savior," the congregation prayed aloud before lining up to kneel at the altar rail.
Harding worked his way down the line, wearing a simple white vestment with a long purple-and-gold scarf called a stole. The large silver cross around his neck echoed the shape he brushed onto each waiting forehead.
His blackened thumb swept down and across in two swift strokes.
After receiving the "imposition of ashes," the worshippers stood up one by one, turned around, and filed back down the few red-carpeted steps between the altar and sanctuary.
A white-haired woman clutched a friend for support on one side of the staircase, while a wobbling toddler held her grandmother's hand on the other side. All of them had the same dark mark on their foreheads, but their faces were bright and smiling.
Back in their pews, they read Psalm 51 together:
"Had you desired it, I would have offered sacrifice, but you take no delight in burnt offerings," they read aloud. "The sacrifice of God is a troubled heart. A broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise."
After the service, Harding explained that the ashes are a symbol of more than just penitence.
"It's a visible reminder that we are God's creation, and we belong to him," he said.
#
3/2/06
"Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return."
The Rev. Scott Harding repeated these words dozens of times Wednesday over the kneeling figures of congregants at Church of the Messiah, an Episcopal church in downtown Glens Falls.
Each time, he dipped his right thumb into a small brass bowl in the palm of his left hand. The bowl held the ashes of burnt palm branches -- the same branches used last year to celebrate Palm Sunday, the beginning of the Holy Week before Easter.
For Christians, Ash Wednesday marks the start of the season of Lent, the 40 days preceding Easter (Sundays aren't counted). It is a season of penitence, or remorse for one's sins, and ashes have been used since Biblical times as a sign of mourning.
"Grant that these ashes may be a sign to us of our mortality and penitence, that we may remember that it is only by your gracious gift that we are given everlasting life, through Jesus Christ our Savior," the congregation prayed aloud before lining up to kneel at the altar rail.
Harding worked his way down the line, wearing a simple white vestment with a long purple-and-gold scarf called a stole. The large silver cross around his neck echoed the shape he brushed onto each waiting forehead.
His blackened thumb swept down and across in two swift strokes.
After receiving the "imposition of ashes," the worshippers stood up one by one, turned around, and filed back down the few red-carpeted steps between the altar and sanctuary.
A white-haired woman clutched a friend for support on one side of the staircase, while a wobbling toddler held her grandmother's hand on the other side. All of them had the same dark mark on their foreheads, but their faces were bright and smiling.
Back in their pews, they read Psalm 51 together:
"Had you desired it, I would have offered sacrifice, but you take no delight in burnt offerings," they read aloud. "The sacrifice of God is a troubled heart. A broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise."
After the service, Harding explained that the ashes are a symbol of more than just penitence.
"It's a visible reminder that we are God's creation, and we belong to him," he said.
#
Anteing up
Published in The Post-Star (D1)
2/23/06
Got some paint in your hand? A big slick? Or are you bluffing and hoping something good comes down the river?
If you're scratching your head right now, odds are that your hobbies don't include a card table. Poker is the hottest card game in the nation right now, with an estimated 50 million Americans playing everything from free home games to high-stakes casino tournaments. There's even a World Series of Poker on ESPN.
The advent of online gaming and televised poker have raised the game's profile higher than ever in recent years, although it looks like the surge in new players is finally being checked.
"I think the trend is tapering off beyond the big spike of the last couple of years, but if you look at it historically, this is the continuation of a 30-year growth trend," said Dan Michalski, a freelance journalist who writes a poker blog (pokerati.com).
Michalski lives in Dallas, and -- not surprisingly -- his favorite poker game is Texas Hold 'Em. He said it might sound silly, but he sees it as a metaphor for life, or even a religion.
"Everyone has their own two unique cards, plus the community cards that everyone's sharing, and you have to do the best you can with what you have," he said. "And even when you do everything right, you can still get screwed."
For local players like Rich Cavak, 33, there's nothing quite so mystical about the game.
"For me, it's mostly a way of getting together with friends, and meeting new people," he said. He plays one night a week with about six other players at a friend's house in Glens Falls.
"It definitely brings out the emotions in people. You see people get really happy, or mad," he said. "We're competing, but in the end, we're all friends."
The social aspect of poker is what drew 31-year-old Toby Leah Bochan to become more serious about the game a few years ago, after breaking up with her fiancee.
It turned out to be more than a fleeting attraction, however -- she's now an online poker expert for About.com, and author of the book, "The Badass Girl's Guide to Poker." Bochan lives in New York City, where she plays poker for fun at least twice a week, and gives lessons to women who want to get in on the action.
She recommends that potential players learn the basic ranking of poker hands before playing. Developing strategy takes more time, and sometimes, luck beats brains.
"There's a saying -- it's better to be lucky than good, but it's best to be both," she said.
Michalski said new players should try out a few free online games to get their feet wet before playing for money.
Wait a minute -- there's money involved? Is that legal?
Bochan said in New York state, it's perfectly legal to play poker with real money, as long as the host of the game isn't making a penny of profit (apart from any winnings).
"The law is that it's illegal to profit from gambling," she said.
What that means is that if there's a "buy-in" (i.e. $20 to join a game), all of that money should go straight to the winning players and/or to pay a dealer if one was hired. Cover charges on top of that may not be legal.
In Texas, said Michalski, a newly formed political action committee is pushing to legalize all forms of poker gambling.
"The entire country is struggling to figure out what's legal and what's not right now, because the gambling laws were written way before poker was played the way it is today," he explained.
Cavak's game in Glens Falls involves a $10 buy-in, which means every player pays $10 to receive an equal number of chips at the beginning of a game, and the winnings are split between the top three players at the end.
"Of course no one's going to get upset about $10," he said. "I wouldn't say it's about the money, although it's certainly nice to win."
THE LINGO:
Ante: Mandatory small bet that each player must place to participate in a game.
Big Slick: An Ace-King hand.
Blinds: Mandatory initial bets made by the player(s) on the left of the dealer at the beginning of a hand, sometimes used in place of the ante.
Call: To match the amount of money bet by other players in a round (the minimum necessary to stay in).
Check: To bet zero (only possible if other players do the same).
Doyle Brunson: A 10-2 hand, named after the famous poker player who won the World Series twice with these traditionally lousy cards.
Flop: The first three community cards dealt simultaneously in Texas Hold 'Em. After a round of betting, a fourth card is dealt, called "the turn." The fifth and final card makes "the river."
Paint: Face cards (Jack through Ace).
Raise: To bet more than other players in a round, forcing them to put more money in the pot to stay in.
TO LEARN MORE:
For beginners: "The Badass Girl's Guide to Poker," by Toby Leah Bochan; "The Smarter Bet Guide to Poker," by Basil Nestor; "The Complete Idiot's Guide to Poker," by Andrew Glazer; "Thursday Night Poker," by Peter Steiner.
For more advanced players: "The Theory of Poker," by David Sklansky; "Doyle Brunson's Super System," by Doyle Brunson; "Phil Gordon's Little Green Book," by Phil Gordon.
LOGGING ON:
Play online at pokerstars.com, fulltilt.net, pokerroom.com and partypoker.com.
Read up on the game at poker.about.com and pokerati.com. Seek out fellow players on meetup.com.
#
2/23/06
Got some paint in your hand? A big slick? Or are you bluffing and hoping something good comes down the river?
If you're scratching your head right now, odds are that your hobbies don't include a card table. Poker is the hottest card game in the nation right now, with an estimated 50 million Americans playing everything from free home games to high-stakes casino tournaments. There's even a World Series of Poker on ESPN.
The advent of online gaming and televised poker have raised the game's profile higher than ever in recent years, although it looks like the surge in new players is finally being checked.
"I think the trend is tapering off beyond the big spike of the last couple of years, but if you look at it historically, this is the continuation of a 30-year growth trend," said Dan Michalski, a freelance journalist who writes a poker blog (pokerati.com).
Michalski lives in Dallas, and -- not surprisingly -- his favorite poker game is Texas Hold 'Em. He said it might sound silly, but he sees it as a metaphor for life, or even a religion.
"Everyone has their own two unique cards, plus the community cards that everyone's sharing, and you have to do the best you can with what you have," he said. "And even when you do everything right, you can still get screwed."
For local players like Rich Cavak, 33, there's nothing quite so mystical about the game.
"For me, it's mostly a way of getting together with friends, and meeting new people," he said. He plays one night a week with about six other players at a friend's house in Glens Falls.
"It definitely brings out the emotions in people. You see people get really happy, or mad," he said. "We're competing, but in the end, we're all friends."
The social aspect of poker is what drew 31-year-old Toby Leah Bochan to become more serious about the game a few years ago, after breaking up with her fiancee.
It turned out to be more than a fleeting attraction, however -- she's now an online poker expert for About.com, and author of the book, "The Badass Girl's Guide to Poker." Bochan lives in New York City, where she plays poker for fun at least twice a week, and gives lessons to women who want to get in on the action.
She recommends that potential players learn the basic ranking of poker hands before playing. Developing strategy takes more time, and sometimes, luck beats brains.
"There's a saying -- it's better to be lucky than good, but it's best to be both," she said.
Michalski said new players should try out a few free online games to get their feet wet before playing for money.
Wait a minute -- there's money involved? Is that legal?
Bochan said in New York state, it's perfectly legal to play poker with real money, as long as the host of the game isn't making a penny of profit (apart from any winnings).
"The law is that it's illegal to profit from gambling," she said.
What that means is that if there's a "buy-in" (i.e. $20 to join a game), all of that money should go straight to the winning players and/or to pay a dealer if one was hired. Cover charges on top of that may not be legal.
In Texas, said Michalski, a newly formed political action committee is pushing to legalize all forms of poker gambling.
"The entire country is struggling to figure out what's legal and what's not right now, because the gambling laws were written way before poker was played the way it is today," he explained.
Cavak's game in Glens Falls involves a $10 buy-in, which means every player pays $10 to receive an equal number of chips at the beginning of a game, and the winnings are split between the top three players at the end.
"Of course no one's going to get upset about $10," he said. "I wouldn't say it's about the money, although it's certainly nice to win."
THE LINGO:
Ante: Mandatory small bet that each player must place to participate in a game.
Big Slick: An Ace-King hand.
Blinds: Mandatory initial bets made by the player(s) on the left of the dealer at the beginning of a hand, sometimes used in place of the ante.
Call: To match the amount of money bet by other players in a round (the minimum necessary to stay in).
Check: To bet zero (only possible if other players do the same).
Doyle Brunson: A 10-2 hand, named after the famous poker player who won the World Series twice with these traditionally lousy cards.
Flop: The first three community cards dealt simultaneously in Texas Hold 'Em. After a round of betting, a fourth card is dealt, called "the turn." The fifth and final card makes "the river."
Paint: Face cards (Jack through Ace).
Raise: To bet more than other players in a round, forcing them to put more money in the pot to stay in.
TO LEARN MORE:
For beginners: "The Badass Girl's Guide to Poker," by Toby Leah Bochan; "The Smarter Bet Guide to Poker," by Basil Nestor; "The Complete Idiot's Guide to Poker," by Andrew Glazer; "Thursday Night Poker," by Peter Steiner.
For more advanced players: "The Theory of Poker," by David Sklansky; "Doyle Brunson's Super System," by Doyle Brunson; "Phil Gordon's Little Green Book," by Phil Gordon.
LOGGING ON:
Play online at pokerstars.com, fulltilt.net, pokerroom.com and partypoker.com.
Read up on the game at poker.about.com and pokerati.com. Seek out fellow players on meetup.com.
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In the beginning, there was a Power Point presentation.
Published in The Post-Star (D1)
2/23/06
The student Bible club at Adirondack Community College sponsored a public lecture Monday by Robert Carr, a retired chemist who teaches that science disproves the theory of evolution.
"I believe a day will come when evolution is on the scrap heap of failed ideas in history, like communism," Carr told the audience of about 60 students and members of the community.
Carr has a B.S. in chemical engineering from Clarkson University, and is the former president of Schenectady International, a global chemical company. He lives in Greenwich, and volunteers his time to speak at churches and schools about the scientific basis for creationism.
He used something called Borel's theory of probability to argue that the chances of life forming from non-life were impossibly slim.
One of Carr's simplest arguments was based on information theory, which states that all information can be traced back to an intelligent source. He noted that DNA is the most information-dense system in the known universe.
"The information in DNA could not have come from natural sources. Information is not a property of matter," he said.
He concluded from this that God exists, is all-knowing and powerful, and that all theories of evolution are false.
During a break in the presentation, 18-year-old Julie Carter reflected on what Carr had said so far.
"I think he's given a lot of scientific evidence to prove evolution wrong, but I'm waiting to see his proof for creationism," she said.
At least a dozen students wrote down questions for Carr on slips of paper during the break, but he only had time to briefly answer three of them.
He spent the last few minutes attacking the idea of "theistic evolution," which blends a belief in God as creator with acceptance of evolutionary theory.
"I tell my brothers and sisters who compromise on this, that I think it's the most miserable position you can take, but I love you anyway," he said. "By definition, evolution does not include God. Christians are jumping on a bandwagon that doesn't want them -- it's bad science, and bad theology."
Later, a student who identified herself as Christian said she sees most viewpoints on this subject as a leap of faith.
"Either way, you're taking people's word for something, whether it's the people who wrote the Bible or the evolutionists," said Elisabeth Bink, a 19-year-old student at the college.
Other students said they found Carr's talk interesting, but inconclusive.
"I would like to be convinced of creationism, but I'm really not convinced by him," said Corey Ellithorpe, who is studying science and engineering at the college. "He used a lot of generalizations, although there's truths in what he said. I would have preferred to hear from both sides, maybe see two people have a good debate about it."
Charles Bailey, a professor of history and religion at the college, is the faculty adviser for the Bible club. He said the interdenominational club, which calls itself Chi Alpha, does not take a stand on the issue of evolution.
"Obviously, there will be people that don't agree with (Carr), but we believe that a liberal arts campus ought to afford a forum for all viewpoints, especially those not often heard," he explained.
Carr said his motivation for speaking on the subject stems from his Christian faith, and his love
for people and science.
"I was hoping to have people step back and reconsider the worldview they have when it comes to our origins, with the hope that they might come to faith," he said after the lecture. "I'm positive that some students today heard a viewpoint that they'd never heard before."
#
2/23/06
The student Bible club at Adirondack Community College sponsored a public lecture Monday by Robert Carr, a retired chemist who teaches that science disproves the theory of evolution.
"I believe a day will come when evolution is on the scrap heap of failed ideas in history, like communism," Carr told the audience of about 60 students and members of the community.
Carr has a B.S. in chemical engineering from Clarkson University, and is the former president of Schenectady International, a global chemical company. He lives in Greenwich, and volunteers his time to speak at churches and schools about the scientific basis for creationism.
He used something called Borel's theory of probability to argue that the chances of life forming from non-life were impossibly slim.
One of Carr's simplest arguments was based on information theory, which states that all information can be traced back to an intelligent source. He noted that DNA is the most information-dense system in the known universe.
"The information in DNA could not have come from natural sources. Information is not a property of matter," he said.
He concluded from this that God exists, is all-knowing and powerful, and that all theories of evolution are false.
During a break in the presentation, 18-year-old Julie Carter reflected on what Carr had said so far.
"I think he's given a lot of scientific evidence to prove evolution wrong, but I'm waiting to see his proof for creationism," she said.
At least a dozen students wrote down questions for Carr on slips of paper during the break, but he only had time to briefly answer three of them.
He spent the last few minutes attacking the idea of "theistic evolution," which blends a belief in God as creator with acceptance of evolutionary theory.
"I tell my brothers and sisters who compromise on this, that I think it's the most miserable position you can take, but I love you anyway," he said. "By definition, evolution does not include God. Christians are jumping on a bandwagon that doesn't want them -- it's bad science, and bad theology."
Later, a student who identified herself as Christian said she sees most viewpoints on this subject as a leap of faith.
"Either way, you're taking people's word for something, whether it's the people who wrote the Bible or the evolutionists," said Elisabeth Bink, a 19-year-old student at the college.
Other students said they found Carr's talk interesting, but inconclusive.
"I would like to be convinced of creationism, but I'm really not convinced by him," said Corey Ellithorpe, who is studying science and engineering at the college. "He used a lot of generalizations, although there's truths in what he said. I would have preferred to hear from both sides, maybe see two people have a good debate about it."
Charles Bailey, a professor of history and religion at the college, is the faculty adviser for the Bible club. He said the interdenominational club, which calls itself Chi Alpha, does not take a stand on the issue of evolution.
"Obviously, there will be people that don't agree with (Carr), but we believe that a liberal arts campus ought to afford a forum for all viewpoints, especially those not often heard," he explained.
Carr said his motivation for speaking on the subject stems from his Christian faith, and his love
for people and science.
"I was hoping to have people step back and reconsider the worldview they have when it comes to our origins, with the hope that they might come to faith," he said after the lecture. "I'm positive that some students today heard a viewpoint that they'd never heard before."
#
Pets pg: How to pick a puppy
Published in The Post-Star (B12)
2/19/06
Puppy love doesn't always blossom into a lasting relationship, which is why many dogs get dumped at shelters. Potential pet owners often face the tricky task of figuring out a dog's personality in a matter of minutes -- how can you tell what they'll be like in a home environment?
Something as simple as popping open an automatic umbrella or jingling a set of keys in front of new puppy can provide clues about her personality.
"You're looking to see their response -- they might startle, but then come over to see what's going on, and that's a sign of a well-adjusted puppy," explained Micki Gorman, a dog breeder from Pennsylvania who wrote the new book, "The Complete Idiot's Guide to Puppies."
Breeders often do what's called "temperament testing" on puppies at about seven weeks old, she said. Although the formal testing is difficult to perform in a shelter, the concept can be applied in simpler ways.
Clapping your hands or stamping your feet suddenly, for example, can show you how the dog might respond to the sudden movements and noises that come with a house full of kids. If the dog responds by trying to attack your hand or foot, that's a red flag. If the dog cowers in the corner, that's a bad sign, too, Gorman said.
"Of course, we all want to help dogs like that, but you have to realize that they usually have what we call 'fear aggression' issues and may respond to fright by snapping or biting," she explained. "A lot of times those dogs never settle into a household."
Gorman advocates getting dogs from breeders or shelters, rather than pet stores.
"Pet store dogs are usually bred by puppy farms, are genetically compromised and badly taken care of," she said. "They can have terrible health and disposition problems, which ends up adding to the shelter population."
Before you even go to look at a puppy, she said, "You have to be honest with yourself about what your lifestyle is." Even mixed-breed dogs usually have a dominant breed, and each breed has tendencies.
"You have to know that all dogs were bred for a purpose, and you can't get rid of that genetic code no matter how much you train them," she said. "For example, Irish wolfhounds will always be coursing dogs -- if they set their sights on something, they're going to run after it."
Dog behavior isn't absolutely predictable, however, and will vary depending on how the dog is treated after being adopted.
Debbie Pruyn of Queensbury adopted Kodiak, a shepherd/collie mix, from a shelter where he was about to be euthanized after five months of constant confinement.
"They thought he was too aggressive, because he would charge up to the kennel door and bark when people approached," he said. "But I'd talk to him, and pretty soon he was rolling over belly-up. That's a vulnerable position, so you know a dog like that isn't truly aggressive."
It took Pruyn about three months of what she calls "desensitization" training to help Kodiak adapt to life outside the shelter, but now he is a loyal, loving pet.
"He already saved my life once," she said, referring to the time that Kodiak's barking stopped someone from breaking into her home in the middle of the night. "I call him my rock star."
#
2/19/06
Puppy love doesn't always blossom into a lasting relationship, which is why many dogs get dumped at shelters. Potential pet owners often face the tricky task of figuring out a dog's personality in a matter of minutes -- how can you tell what they'll be like in a home environment?
Something as simple as popping open an automatic umbrella or jingling a set of keys in front of new puppy can provide clues about her personality.
"You're looking to see their response -- they might startle, but then come over to see what's going on, and that's a sign of a well-adjusted puppy," explained Micki Gorman, a dog breeder from Pennsylvania who wrote the new book, "The Complete Idiot's Guide to Puppies."
Breeders often do what's called "temperament testing" on puppies at about seven weeks old, she said. Although the formal testing is difficult to perform in a shelter, the concept can be applied in simpler ways.
Clapping your hands or stamping your feet suddenly, for example, can show you how the dog might respond to the sudden movements and noises that come with a house full of kids. If the dog responds by trying to attack your hand or foot, that's a red flag. If the dog cowers in the corner, that's a bad sign, too, Gorman said.
"Of course, we all want to help dogs like that, but you have to realize that they usually have what we call 'fear aggression' issues and may respond to fright by snapping or biting," she explained. "A lot of times those dogs never settle into a household."
Gorman advocates getting dogs from breeders or shelters, rather than pet stores.
"Pet store dogs are usually bred by puppy farms, are genetically compromised and badly taken care of," she said. "They can have terrible health and disposition problems, which ends up adding to the shelter population."
Before you even go to look at a puppy, she said, "You have to be honest with yourself about what your lifestyle is." Even mixed-breed dogs usually have a dominant breed, and each breed has tendencies.
"You have to know that all dogs were bred for a purpose, and you can't get rid of that genetic code no matter how much you train them," she said. "For example, Irish wolfhounds will always be coursing dogs -- if they set their sights on something, they're going to run after it."
Dog behavior isn't absolutely predictable, however, and will vary depending on how the dog is treated after being adopted.
Debbie Pruyn of Queensbury adopted Kodiak, a shepherd/collie mix, from a shelter where he was about to be euthanized after five months of constant confinement.
"They thought he was too aggressive, because he would charge up to the kennel door and bark when people approached," he said. "But I'd talk to him, and pretty soon he was rolling over belly-up. That's a vulnerable position, so you know a dog like that isn't truly aggressive."
It took Pruyn about three months of what she calls "desensitization" training to help Kodiak adapt to life outside the shelter, but now he is a loyal, loving pet.
"He already saved my life once," she said, referring to the time that Kodiak's barking stopped someone from breaking into her home in the middle of the night. "I call him my rock star."
#
Ritual moments series, Catholic prayer
Published in The Post-Star (D1)
2/16/06
Editor's note: This is part of an occasional series that describes different faith practices by focusing on a particular ritual within each one.
SARATOGA SPRINGS -- A young blond boy peered up at the high ceiling of St. Clement's Catholic Church during a recent Sunday Mass, jabbing a tiny finger in the air to count each of the hanging light fixtures and slow-circling fans.
His reverie was interrupted as the crowd of people around him picked up a prayer card from the hymnal racks on the backs of their wooden pews. The small squares of stiff white paper had the words "Prayer for Vocations" printed on them in English and Spanish.
At the front of the church, a priest in green-and-white robes spoke the first words.
"Send forth your Spirit, Lord, into the hearts of your faithful people ..."
The worshippers bowed their heads and joined in. Their voices blended together, not quite in
unison, the words bumping up against each other in a low murmur.
"Grant that many of us may dedicate ourselves to You through the priesthood, religious life, and lay ministries," they recited.
Later, Father Joseph Tizio explained that this prayer is specific to the Redemptorists, a Catholic order founded in Italy in 1732 to "reach out to the most abandoned." The order has about 5,000 priests and brothers worldwide, tending to parishes in twos and threes because they believe in communal living. A growing shortage of clergy has prompted Redemptorist churches to include the Prayer for Vocations in all Masses between Christmas and Lent.
"We pray, too, for religious, and especially for the Redemptorists, that generous men may join them to become zealous missionaries ... "
The little boy peered up at the pulpit, where Tizio stood. The priest's figure was dwarfed by a massive mosaic depicting Christ in crucifixion pose, on a blue-green backdrop shot through with geometric streaks of gold. A large circle of sticks hung from the ceiling overhead, representing the crown of thorns that the Bible says Christ wore on the cross.
"We make this prayer through Jesus Christ, Our Lord and Redeemer."
The boy didn't need a prayer card to know what came next. His lips were still forming the last word as he looked up again to resume his count.
"Amen."
#
2/16/06
Editor's note: This is part of an occasional series that describes different faith practices by focusing on a particular ritual within each one.
SARATOGA SPRINGS -- A young blond boy peered up at the high ceiling of St. Clement's Catholic Church during a recent Sunday Mass, jabbing a tiny finger in the air to count each of the hanging light fixtures and slow-circling fans.
His reverie was interrupted as the crowd of people around him picked up a prayer card from the hymnal racks on the backs of their wooden pews. The small squares of stiff white paper had the words "Prayer for Vocations" printed on them in English and Spanish.
At the front of the church, a priest in green-and-white robes spoke the first words.
"Send forth your Spirit, Lord, into the hearts of your faithful people ..."
The worshippers bowed their heads and joined in. Their voices blended together, not quite in
unison, the words bumping up against each other in a low murmur.
"Grant that many of us may dedicate ourselves to You through the priesthood, religious life, and lay ministries," they recited.
Later, Father Joseph Tizio explained that this prayer is specific to the Redemptorists, a Catholic order founded in Italy in 1732 to "reach out to the most abandoned." The order has about 5,000 priests and brothers worldwide, tending to parishes in twos and threes because they believe in communal living. A growing shortage of clergy has prompted Redemptorist churches to include the Prayer for Vocations in all Masses between Christmas and Lent.
"We pray, too, for religious, and especially for the Redemptorists, that generous men may join them to become zealous missionaries ... "
The little boy peered up at the pulpit, where Tizio stood. The priest's figure was dwarfed by a massive mosaic depicting Christ in crucifixion pose, on a blue-green backdrop shot through with geometric streaks of gold. A large circle of sticks hung from the ceiling overhead, representing the crown of thorns that the Bible says Christ wore on the cross.
"We make this prayer through Jesus Christ, Our Lord and Redeemer."
The boy didn't need a prayer card to know what came next. His lips were still forming the last word as he looked up again to resume his count.
"Amen."
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