Welcome to Chris Strub's professional archive. This blog will be used to archive his professional writing, starting with a series of 31 columns published in the Binghamton Press & Sun-Bulletin (www.pressconnects.com). This archive features an unabridged list of all 31 of his pieces, which ran regularly on Thursdays in the newspaper's Viewpoints section from June 2007 to February 2008.
Chris Strub is a 22-year-old graduate of Binghamton University, with a double-major in English and Economics. He is from Huntington, N.Y., and currently resides in the city of Binghamton. He wrote for the Binghamton University Pipe Dream (www.bupipedream.com) for nine semesters, including serving as the newspaper's sports editor in 2004-05. He started at the Press & Sun-Bulletin as a part-time copy editor in October 2006, and became full-time in January 2008.
Links to more of Chris Strub's writing:
- Pipe Dream author archive: http://bupipedream.com/new/index.php/authors/listing/190
- Chris Strub's professional blog, Bearcat Country: http://www.pressconnects.com/strubblog
- Chris Strub's personal college basketball blog, Bearcat Country: http://bearcatcountry.blogspot.com
If you'd rather not navigate through all 31 columns, here are Chris's favorites:
- November 29, 2007: Brush with death reminds you what's important
- August 23, 2007: A trip to the Harford Fair
- July 5, 2007: Wanted: A few good Texas-style chili recipes
- September 20, 2007: Agritourism adventure a pleasant draw off campus
- November 17, 2007: If only we could 'voice our choice' with other utilities
Chris Strub can be contacted at cstrub[at]pressconnects.com.
Friday, May 30, 2008
February 21, 2008 - Our history of violence
Steven Kazmierczak never went to Binghamton University.
Thank God.
Last week’s horrific quintuple-murder-suicide at Northern Illinois University raised concerns once again about security — or, more accurately, the vulnerability — of college campuses nationwide, including at BU and Broome Community College.
BCC President Laurence Spraggs announced earlier this week that his college will begin arming its peace officers with .40-caliber Glocks. BU’s on-campus officers already carry firearms.
But as almost any college-age kid will tell you, giving security guards all the firepower east of the Mississippi wouldn’t have stopped this unthinkable disaster. Short of installing metal detectors, most campus classrooms will be forever prone to a frenzied shooting.
No college student will forget where he was when he heard of last week’s NIU killings. And no college student will forget where he was when news of last spring’s Virginia Tech tragedy broke.
Events such as these, as horrible as they are, bring all campuses closer together. It’s unfortunate that it comes at the cost of pulling one campus irreparably apart.
College kids these days grew up immersed in tragedy. Way back, before the start of my journey into journalism, one of the most vivid television memories I have is of Columbine High School — on April 20, 1999, when Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold drove to school dressed in trenchcoats, and murdered 12 students and a teacher before taking their own lives.
Just two years later, the events of Sept. 11 played out during a typical high school morning — while we anxiously waited for second period to end.
And then last spring, as the Virginia Tech massacre unfolded, Binghamton University waited out a campus-wide blackout. Students — most unaware of the morning’s events — stayed in their dorms, playing board games in the dark until mid-afternoon. When our TV and Internet service flickered back on, 24-hour news channels introduced us to Seung-Hui Cho.
It’s difficult, as a young person, to attempt to comprehend the logic behind each event. Having seen each of these events unfold as an adolescent, I can only begin to rationalize how horrible each incident was.
At BU, for the most part, the campus community has been fortunate. The accidental on-campus death of Anders Uwadinobi in December was a stark reminder of our own mortality, but Binghamton has avoided the devastating massacres that have struck NIU and Virginia Tech.
As strong and connected as the BU campus is, however, the sad reality is that these tragedies take only one lost soul, one person disconnected from society to cause such pain.
Recent interviews with Kazmierczak’s girlfriend and colleagues have revealed a mixed history about the NIU gunman. It appears he was not the social outcast that Seung-Hui Cho was in school — and that’s a scary notion for the thousands of BU students who share lecture halls every day with quiet, unassuming classmates.
But despite the recent attention given to the inherent vulnerability of our campuses, I wouldn’t be overly concerned about the near future of local schools such as Binghamton University.
Instead, I’m troubled by the notion that especially malleable elementary-age schoolchildren are growing up in a world where these tragedies are part of the norm. In my community, as junior high schoolers, Columbine certainly made an impression — but by that point in life, we understood the black-and-white difference between wrong and right.
For the next generation of college students, whose societal upbringings prominently include these horrific shootings, I can only hope that their parents are talking openly with them, and teaching them those same moral premises that have, to this point, kept these shootings relatively sporadic.
Strub is a copy editor at the Press & Sun-Bulletin.
cstrub@pressconnects.com
February 14, 2008 - Sometimes you can’t just ‘let it slide’
I like to call it “Aw, c’mon” democracy.
“Aw, c’mon,” people say. “What’s the big deal?”
Surely, Wednesday’s story about six Binghamton University students getting kicked out of a home they were illegally occupying on the West Side spurred plenty of those types of feelings — especially among other BU students living in the city.
But proponents of “Aw, c’mon” democracy will get no sympathy from me.
The law is the law. It exists for a reason, and enforcement of code shouldn’t depend on whether people think it “matters.”
It’s a principle that applies in many facets of society lately.
Many folks seem to think Barry Bonds’ trial doesn’t “matter” — who cares if he committed perjury? Who did he hurt?
Or how about entertainment groupies, who are so overwhelmed by never-ending media coverage of Nicole and Paris, and Britney, and Lindsay, et. al., that they think bringing them justice is insignificant?
In each case, those folks are misguided. Barry Bonds’ steroid use could affect millions of impressionable young ballplayers. And there was a time when Britney Spears was a role model for adolescent girls across the country. (Perhaps I’m just getting old.)
Similarly, for every “Aw, c’mon” policy violation we let slide, the city will fall deeper into the rut it’s in.
Many of the same sentiments abound last March, when the City of Binghamton let dozens of open-container violations slide during Parade Day, right in the heart of the city. By employing “Aw, c’mon” tactics, city residents felt first-hand the effects of letting the little things slide. (It remains to be seen how the city will handle this year’s drunken celebrations — but let’s get through today’s miserable holiday first.)
This simple housing violation will not make or break the city’s future. But announcing code violations is a step in the right direction for a city on the cusp of revitalization.
It seems that a lot of financial pressure is set on the shoulders of taxpayers. Rising tax rates are painful when the foregone income put the family’s dinner on the table, or provided hot water for a shower.
But that’s what happens when “Aw, c’mon” democracy extends to the bureaucratic level. Businesses receiving unwarranted tax cuts, which might not seem like a “big deal,” results in a trickle-down effect that ends up pouring onto the city’s undeserving residents.
It’s no big deal when the city’s new “cruising” law is never enforced — until the front page tells you a Norwich woman has been selling a little girl for sex for several years. It’s no big deal when thousands of teenagers fill the local pubs with their fake IDs — until they stumble by at 3:30 a.m. and knock over your mailbox.
And it’s no big deal that six BU students are illegally dorming together in a house, until you consider the consequences of letting how you feel each day, or your personal interpretation of a law’s importance, dictate the enforcement of policy.
Strub is a copy editor at the Press & Sun-Bulletin.
January 3, 2008 - New council shows Binghamton ready for action
Brian Liberatore’s front-page article in Tuesday’s paper examined both sides of an important issue soon to face the City of Binghamton: a one-party council.
The elections of Lea Webb and Sean Massey, a pair of Democrats endorsed by Citizen Action and the Working Families Party, were not overwhelming individual victories; Webb won the 4th District with about 56 percent of the vote, while Massey needed the proverbial “overtime” — a handful of absentee ballots — to pull out a slim victory over incumbent Chris Papastrat in District 5.
Some voters are worried now that the seven-Democrat council will become a “rubber stamp” for Democratic Mayor Matt Ryan, considering his deep, well-documented ties to the Citizen Action group.
Certainly one goal of a city’s council should be to keep an eye on the mayor — a microcosmic system of checks and balances, if you will. But when residents voted to install Webb and Massey last November, their message came across loud and clear: they want action. And with an all-Democrat panel in place, that’s likely what they’ll get.
Of course, neither the council nor the mayor will ‘fess up regarding the overwhelming edict that they’ve been handed:
“We share some ideas and values, but just because we are Democrats doesn’t mean we agree on everything,” Massey said in Tuesday’s article.
And to a certain extent, Massey’s right; even with an overwhelming 8-1 majority on the previous council (two seats were consolidated during this election cycle), the city’s democrats were never notorious for rubber-stamping the mayor’s ideas.
The lack of Republican representation on the council is, of course, worrying to Republicans — but it’s more a sign of the motivation that groups like Citizen Action have in restoring life and energy to the city’s streets. The election results should only be surprising to those who didn’t care enough to actively participate in the long-winded campaign.
The council’s unanimous majority, then, is no mistake. It’s the result of a lot of hard work by citizens who cared enough to get involved in the democratic process, and who clearly approved of the work, to this point, of the Democratic council and Mayor Ryan.
But the election of Massey and Webb, paired with the re-election of Democratic incumbents Ed Collins (7th District) and Bob Weslar (1st District), represents an even stronger demand for action by that council. Now more than ever, the citizens of Binghamton are seeking change through the city’s elected officials — and have handed the Democratic Party a sweeping mandate to do so.
Strub is a copy editor at the Press & Sun-Bulletin. His column appears Thursdays.
cstrub@pressconnects.com
December 27, 2007 - Best resolution for New Year’s: Quit smoking
While billions of New Year’s resolutions will be made this long weekend, many people will attempt to make a difficult pledge — one that their life just may depend on.
Attempting to quit smoking is a common refrain for millions of smokers around the country and around the Southern Tier, especially around the New Year. Promises of cold turkey (no, not those nasty leftovers from last month) too often end moments after the Times Square ball drops, with the familiar warmth of a cigarette seemingly helping to calm the nerves of a helpless addict.
I often find myself heckling my friends who smoke, trying my best to inform them that it’s a dangerous habit with dire — and often deadly — consequences.
But it seems that for every death stick they inhale, they’ve got another air-headed excuse to exhale: “We’re slowly dying every day anyway.” ... “So what? You eat fatty foods and drink — what’s the difference?” ... “I just need one, to relax.”
I applaud any readers who are hoping to quit smoking for 2008. As a non-smoker, I can’t comprehend how difficult it is for you to give it up — but I can share with you how important it is that you do:
Lung cancer kills 1.3 million people each year. That’s about one person per 6.5 seconds.
Tobacco is the No. 1 preventable killer in the country.
And even if you don’t care, it doesn’t just affect you: in the U.S., about 50,000 people die every year from second-hand smoke.
(Facts courtesy of www.whudafxup.com — home of those familiar anti-smoking commercials.)
Cold turkey — no more cigarettes, effective immediately — is just one of the ways people try to quit. Nicotine patches and gum help others try and kick the habit, but no matter which way you choose, sticking to your promise is just as important as making it.
And New Year’s isn’t the only time of year when smokers attempt such a massive smoke-out; in fact, the annual Great American Smokeout is quickly becoming a national tradition.
The event, held on the third Thursday of each November, encourages smokers to kick the habit for 24 hours, hoping their decision will catch on.
Unfortunately, many of the same participants will try again beginning Monday night, with renewed hope that 2008 can bring a clearer future. Their lives may depend on it.
Strub is a copy editor at the Press & Sun-Bulletin. His column appears Thursdays.
December 20, 2007 - Bearcat teams give local fans plenty to cheer about
As the Southern Tier rolls through the holiday season, the local university’s sports teams are finding themselves in a gift-exchanging mood.
Binghamton University’s men’s basketball team, led by first-year head coach Kevin Broadus, gave the local fans something to cheer about last week with a convincing win over two-time defending Atlantic-10 champions George Washington.
Meanwhile, the school’s women’s team got a gift of their own on Sunday, obliterating Colgate by 46 points, 74-26, at the Events Center. The Red Raiders scored a paltry seven points in the first half, giving coach Rich Conover an additional present: significant playing time for his backups.
The basketball programs unfortunately haven’t made winning the norm this year, currently sitting at a combined 4-15 with conference play just around the corner. But even with those disappointing out-of-conference performances so far, the BU athletics department has given its fan base plenty to cheer, and be cheery, about this year.
The biggest gift this year is the brand new Bearcat Sports Complex, the new home for the school’s men’s and women’s soccer and lacrosse teams. In the facility’s inaugural season, Paul Marco’s men’s squad went undefeated at home during the regular season and reached their fifth straight America East championship game. Jeff Leightman’s women’s team won three games at the BSC and reached the conference semifinals.
Fans flocked to the BSC for the men’s soccer playoffs. More than 2,000 people spent a frigid Saturday night cheering the top-seeded Bearcats on. Despite their 1-0 loss, the perennial powers once again appear poised to make a run in 2008. The team also appears to have birthed a brand new version of the “BU Zoo,” with hundreds of fans, dubbing themselves the “Hooligans,” already preparing for next year’s conference slate.
The upcoming new year will bring even more excitement for the school’s athletic programs. With their new stadium and a strong core of young players, the men’s lacrosse team will look to improve on their 4-9 2007 mark. The women’s lacrosse team will hit the field with a new head coach, Tony Zostant, and a fresh feeling of optimism.
The lacrosse and baseball programs are among the school’s most popular spectator sports. As the Southern Tier’s snow cover melts away, coach Tim Sinicki and company will revive the familiar smells of pine tar and sunflower seeds in front of their passionate fan base. Junior starter Jeff Dennis, of nearby North Syracuse, will start the season on the “Wallace Watch” list of the nation’s top players.
But if indoor sports are more your speed, the men’s and women’s swimming and diving teams will continue their quests towards the America East championship with five home meets in January, while the school’s track and tennis teams will host several contests in the Events Center.
With the shine finally seemingly coming off that state-of-the-art facility that was completed in 2004, it appears that the community is truly coming to embrace all the Division-I Bearcat teams as their own. With the BSC taking the spotlight off the pricey Events Center, it appears that Binghamton University sports are really becoming part of the local community’s fabric, and that acceptance is the best gift of all.
Strub is a copy editor at the Press & Sun-Bulletin. His column appears Thursdays.
December 13, 2007 - What we crave are more food choices at night
Word broke on Monday that The Ground Round, a family-style steakhouse, could soon be arriving in the old Chi-Chi’s building across from the Oakdale Mall in Johnson City.
I’m glad to see a business potentially returning to that location, although I’m sure I’m not the only one around here who still misses the old Mexican eatery’s delectable chimichangas.
Word of the new steakhouse coming to town — and my still-broke-college-kid appetite — got me thinking of several other familiar chains that would fit great in the Binghamton area:
The first name that comes to mind is Sonic. The hamburger chain’s incessant television advertising in the Southern Tier is baffling, and an unfair tease; the nearest Sonic is in Morgantown, Pa., 134.42 miles — and approximately three hours — from Binghamton.
For me, no childhood trip to the orthodontist would’ve been complete without a post-op Slurpee — but for many in the Southern Tier, 7-Eleven is nothing more than a mis-dialed 4-1-1 call, or the eleventh day of July. 7-Eleven’s Store Locator returns zero results near zip code 13905, even though, according to their site, “Finding a 7-Eleven close to you has never been easier.” (Sheetz, however, is only about an hour south.)
And if “what you crave” is White Castle, you’re looking at quite a trip. The nearest Crave Cases to the Southern Tier are in Yonkers and Nanuet, or in the freezer at your local Wal-Mart, Wegmans or Sam’s Club. With an abundance of White Castles, several dozen in fact, scattered throughout New York City, Queens and Long Island, a lone location in the Southern Tier — or in the entire state of Pennsylvania — would be appreciated.
That’s not to say that the establishments found here in the Southern Tier are sub-par or inadequate. Nowhere on the island can a hungry traveler pull off and pick up a lamb spiedie.
But there are certain comfort foods that people from around the state and the region have come to love throughout childhood. When there’s nowhere to find those delicious complex carbs, those succulent sweets, (dare I say, in our health-conscious day and age, those fantastic fats?), you stumble upon an avoidable deterrent — from visiting the area, moving to the area, or, as I wrote last week, staying in the area.
Bringing in the aforementioned types of fast-food joints could also help liven up the City of Binghamton. A drive down Court Street at night is stunningly underwhelming, with every business, save for a strip of bars, closed until the morning.
If there were more to check out at night than a hoard of drunks cordoned off by a handful of cops, perhaps the city could once again begin to flourish. And that could begin with keeping a restaurant or two, or even one of these fast-food shops, open past dusk.
Providing places of sustenance — whether they’re national chains or a home-grown business — would encourage more entertainment and commercial development, and brighten up the town’s dark streets once and for all.
A simple walk through the city shows there’s more than enough space for an intrepid entrepreneur or two — or eight. With plenty of gorgeous riverfront property and a “MetroCenter” that, despite its age, could still become a bustling center of commerce, it appears that more businesses — more night-time businesses — are “What We Crave.”
Strub is a part-time copy editor at the Press & Sun-Bulletin. His column appears Thursdays.
December 6, 2007 - Graduation day brings new set of challenges
As frigid temperatures overwhelm hundreds of thousands of Broome County residents this week, I find myself looking to the great lyricist Kanye West for a few important words of wisdom:
“Everybody says hey, you're not working, you're not making any money; But I'm smart, I'm so smart, and I'm in school, and these guys are out here making money all these ways, and I'm spended mine to be smart. You know why? Because when I die, buddy, you know what's going to keep me warm?
“That's right — those degrees.”
Sunday afternoon, the heat will be on — literally and proverbially — at Binghamton University's Events Center for the school's first Fall Commencement ceremony, as hundreds of students will take their final steps as undergraduates and, yielding “those degrees,” their tentative first steps into the so-called “real world.”
(Full disclosure: That's not completely true — finals week actually follows graduation this semester. Thanks, Lois!)
Many of us have jobs lined up for post-graduation, while others will move on to even higher education at a graduate school, be it here in Vestal or elsewhere. The rest of us, well ... we're taking it one day at a time.
But regardless of one's future plans, losing the familiar warmth of a class schedule, friendly classmates and “summer vacation” (damn you, soon-to-be teachers!) is a big adjustment — one that even the most groomed adolescence can hardly prepare you for.
And so, as we come together this weekend for the culmination of our however-many years at the school, we can happily reflect back on our unique journeys to the ceremony.
No two stories are alike. But instead of spending this space telling a tale or two of a fellow prospective graduate (still no guarantees here: I still have to pass British Literature II — so much for senioritis), I thought I'd share a persistent piece of advice we're almost all getting at Binghamton University, one that doesn't elude such “warm” feelings:
“Get out of Binghamton.”
The speakers at this weekend's ceremony, including keynote speaker Soledad O'Brien, won't use those words. And this columnist, who has spent the last few months embracing local traditions (and pouring over Percy Bysshe Shelley), does not echo those sentiments.
But as BU's year-to-year retention rate persists above 90 percent, the Broome County retention rate for its graduates is sinking. More and more grads are migrating elsewhere, with most citing a lack of opportunities in the area.
Sure, there are some retention efforts: CIC2020, or Catalysts for Intellectual Capital 2020, is a student-run organization dedicated to keeping graduates in the Southern Tier, while Southern Tier Young Professionals (STYP) is a growing group with good intentions.
Additionally, the new Downtown Center is a good first step to bringing together the University to the City of Binghamton, a place that many upperclassmen — and potential future residents — call home.
But any retention efforts will be in vain as long as those currently living in the Southern Tier continue to yearn for greener pastures. Perhaps graduates would feel some optimism about the area if long-term residents took steps to feel that way themselves.
Strub is a senior at Binghamton University (at least this week) and a part-time copy editor at the Press & Sun-Bulletin. His column appears Thursdays.
November 29, 2007 - Brush with death reminds you what’s important
I'll be home for Christmas.
Well, I hope.
Last week in this space, I wrote that by the time my column made it to print, I'd be back on Long Island for Thanksgiving. That very nearly was not the case.
To avoid massive traffic, I chose to head home very late Wednesday night, leaving Binghamton around midnight; ETA was 3:30 a.m.
By 1:55, the trip was nothing out of the ordinary. I had made the requisite stop at Sheetz — all savvy travelers heading south know the wonders of this fabulously futuristic gas station chain — and was heading from the Keystone State into New Jersey, searching for radio stations.
I stumbled upon 93.5 FM, a frequency dedicated 24 hours a day to Christmas songs. How pleasant.
For a moment, I was joined on my journey by Bing Crosby and his mellifluous melody, reminding his loved ones that he'd be home for the holidays — if only in his dreams.
Cruising along Interstate 80, perhaps a little more quickly than I should have been, I changed lanes on a tight curve. At this hour — exactly 2 a.m. — the road, both eastbound lanes, was all mine.
Or so I thought.
Suddenly, a pair of bright white lights appeared. They started small, but they were getting bigger. Much bigger. Quickly.
I realized what was happening: on this two-lane stretch of road, connecting Pennsylvania and New Jersey, there was someone coming towards me — heading the wrong direction.
Of course, I freaked out. Screaming “Oh my God!,” I swerved back into the right lane, from which I had just switched.
The car — I think it was white, but who knows and who cares — blew by me on the left, heading from the four-lane interstate in Jersey to a dark, windier, two-lane hellride through the mountains.
Hyperventilating, I pulled off to a weigh station about a quarter-mile later and called 911, only to be reassured that they “already knew about the problem.”
Really? That's nice. Could you maybe send me a text message or something next time? An e-mail, perhaps?
(The scariest part is, I have no idea what happened to this rogue car after he/she passed by me. One could see how the car made it that far, with 80 East being four lanes through most of Jersey, but the ensuing two-lane stretch that connects that spot to the Delaware Water Gap is much more treacherous.)
Having calmed down just a tiny bit, I made two more late-night calls: one to my parents, and one to the girl of my dreams.
Because it's experiences like this that make you realize that every step you take, and every mile you drive, could be your last. For dozens of people every day around the country, morons (you can imagine what word I'd rather use, but this is a family newspaper) like that guy/girl take someone else's life into their hands.
And so I know this sounds cheesy, but it's so important to live every single day like it's your last.
Do yourself a favor. Put this paper down and tell your spouse, kids, girlfriend, best friend, whoever, that you love them. (Then, of course, pick it back up and check out the classifieds — call 231-SOLD!)
I'm just 22, and I was maybe 50 feet, and/or one drunken swerve, from being roadkill.
Instead, it turns out, someone upstairs likes me — and I'll be home for Christmas.
I hope.
Strub is a senior at Binghamton University and a part-time copy editor at the Press & Sun-Bulletin. His column appears Thursdays.
November 22, 2007 - Pause to remember those on the front lines today
Today is Thanksgiving, a special holiday meant to be shared with loved ones, a day when we get to say thanks for the things that we cherish in our lives.
By the time you read this, I’ll be home on Long Island, seeing my parents, my little sister and a cornucopia of relatives, watching football and eating until I pass out. The hubbub around the day’s festivities, topped off with a truckload of tryptophan, can sometimes obscure the meaning of the holiday at our, and perhaps your, annual gathering.
Of course, the time spent with one’s loved ones is the true highlight of the day. For some families, Thanksgiving is the only chance they have each year to come together.
But for thousands of families around the country, Thanksgiving will feel incomplete.
This year, thousands of families will celebrate the holiday without a son or daughter who is deployed overseas, hidden somewhere in the depths of Iraq or Afghanistan. By now, with the “War on Terror” stretching into a seventh year, most people at least know a family with a loved one in combat. Personally, a handful of guys from my high school math classes are currently overseas.
No matter your opinions on our presence in the war-torn areas, the sacrifices these young men and women make every day cannot be questioned. It is their dedication to our country that allows us the freedoms that we take for granted every day.
Want to turn on the television and watch an extravagant Thanksgiving Day parade? Or pick up your local daily newspaper (Miss a Day, Miss a Lot!) and read the ramblings of your favorite national columnist?
While we consider these benefits automatic, it is our soldiers who have put their lives on the line every day, and will continue to do so, who let these freedoms ring.
Even the greenest anti-war protesters have the soldiers of past and present to thank for the right to gather and express dissension. Not every country in the world allows protesters; if you hate it here so much, try living — and protesting — in Pakistan.
Other families this year, unfortunately, will have to live with the fact that they’ll never again be able to sit down and celebrate with their son or daughter. Each month, scores of soldiers are killed in the line of duty, returning home shrouded in a coffin, draped in an American flag.
I can only hope that these families of the finest men and women in our country realize that the absence of their loved one this afternoon, be it temporary or forever, are not in vain.
And so today, while you and I both say thanks to our own loved ones, it is important to offer similar gratitude to those who make these annual festivities possible in the first place.
Strub is a senior at Binghamton University and a part-time copy editor at the Press & Sun-Bulletin. His column appears Thursdays.
November 17, 2007 - If only we could ‘voice our choice’ with other utilities
The banner headline on this week’s Business page trumpeted the start of NYSEG’s annual “Voice Your Choice” program, designed to allow the utility’s customers to choose among three electricity pricing plans for 2008.
According to what I’ve read, there’s the Fixed Price Option, the Default Supply Option and the ESCO Price Option. The safest bet appears to be the former, as it minimizes the risk of facing increased energy costs, especially over the summer months.
But what do I know? The place I rest my head is property of a large rental company in Binghamton, the owner I assume will be voicing my choice for me in this matter. I don’t think I have any choice when it comes to NYSEG; as far as I know, my selections are:
1. Pay the NYSEG bill, or
2. Live by candlelight.
In fact, the only electricity choice I get to voice is to my two apartment-mates: “Hey, turn down the damn heat — I’m broke!”
The announcement of Voice Your Choice did, however, get me thinking: What if other utility companies allowed their patrons some sort of choice?
Everyone’s familiar with the multitude of options offered by the local cable television companies in our market, but I’d love the option of “Manly TV” — no Oprah, Rachael Ray or The View clogging up my midday. All my “hard-hitting” local news would be delivered by Chris Berman and Joe Rogan, with Dick Butkus reporting my weather on the 10’s — and Maria Sharapova on sports.
Sappy movies would be available on demand, but would be hidden somewhere on my dial well beyond ESPN 8 (“The Ocho”) — and require several alphanumeric passwords, to be entered only when the girlfriend has arrived, and the bros are long gone.
For many, the monthly water bill is another mundane burden that would benefit from a choice.
Why pipe in just water when customers routinely demand various other liquids? At my place, we’re never short on Poland Spring bottles, but our milk supply is almost always running low.
For health-conscious customers, your kitchen sink could be a never-ending spigot of freshly squeezed orange juice.
Or perhaps one could solve all his late-night needs; wouldn’t it make economic sense for the area’s thousands of college-age residents to simply pipe in their Keystone Light? (Close enough to water, anyway.)
These free-market concepts of supply and demand could also be re-applied to telephone service in the Southern Tier. Who wants to dial a seven-digit phone number in today’s world of perpetual cellular hyperactivity? The invisible hand no longer has time to dial area codes.
So why not let customers voice their numerical choice? If I absolutely need to be immediately accessible to all my friends and family, I can buy the new “Ultra Premium” telephone plan: a one-digit number.
That’s right. You need to reach Chris Strub? Just dial four.
Of course, scarcity would leave the nine remaining digits — some guy named ‘Operator’ already called dibs on 0 — wildly expensive, but the market will determine the cost of these coveted numbers.
Just imagine the ease of formulating pick-up lines at the local pub: “My number, baby, is six ... what’s yours?”
Strub is a senior at Binghamton University and a part-time copy editor at the Press & Sun-Bulletin. His column normally appears on Thursdays.
cstrub@pressconnects.com
November 8, 2007 - Bar brawlers broke city’s unwritten rules for partying
Reports of an incident Friday night at Uncle Tony's, a State Street establishment frequented primarily by Binghamton University students, continued the unfortunate division between BU students and residents of this area.
Readers piled onto our StoryChat and other less reputable Broome County message boards, letting the latest incident fuel their dislike and, in more extreme cases, hatred towards the university's student body.
Students fired back, forming Facebook groups such as “Free the Victims of Binghamton Police Brutality” (94 members, as of Tuesday afternoon) and “Free Ed and Rob” (59).
The creator of the first group, Craig Aquino, writes in its description:
“... What the (Press & Sun-Bulletin) article fails to describe is the actions taken by police officers in the arrest of four people involved in the 'fight.'
“Those who were at Tony's that night witnessed one of the people involved being kicked repeatedly while handcuffed face down on the floor. He was not resisting the officers at this time.
“People also witnessed a third party not mentioned in the article struck in the face, then grabbed by the throat and choked to the ground. This person was simply trying to hold others back from joining the fight. While being approached by an officer, he held his hands up in a surrendering fasion. [sic] This person was released later that night on charges of disorderly conduct.
“A fourth person arrested in the fight: a Binghamton native, was released promptly by police after stating his residence.
“If you were at Uncle Tony's at the time of the incident, or if youre [sic] against excessive force, join this group, and protest the actions of police brutality and corruption of the Binghamton Police Department against BU Students. [sic]”
Unfortunately, whether the Binghamton police used excessive force is a secondary issue, a debatable point that should have never have entered the discussion. Don't get me wrong — police brutality is wrong, but let me make my point.
Starting any kind of physical altercation in any State Street bar was the students' mistake. In addition to the obvious possibility of assault and battery charges, the fraternity members' scuffle, no matter its magnitude, broke the unwritten code that we college students are to follow.
Because police officers and members of the community are not oblivious to the truth: College students are going to drink. Some will drink more than others. Even the new, more stringent alcohol policies in the BU Student Code of Conduct will not stop this phenomenon.
So, despite the laws, police officers put up with it. On any given night, I'd bet two-thirds of the crowd on State Street is underage; I'd estimate 10 percent under the age of 18. (Of the two charged students in this incident, one is 21 and the other is 20.)
While the bouncer — who's probably your best friend's roommate's cousin's pledge brother — lets you and your poorly chalked, McLovin' ID go, the officers stand idly by.
Could they swipe your license? Sure. Could they book you for urinating in the parking garage? Obviously. But they don't. They follow the code, the unspoken rule among thousands of underage drinkers: Behave yourself, be responsible; that's all the police ask.
So when a fight breaks out, it's the students who are at fault. It's the age-old rule your Mom always preached: I don't care who started it, but I'm going to end it. And, excessive force or not, that's what the cops did.
But what's unfortunate is that many residents of the Binghamton area will view the two charged BU students in this case as representative of the school's entire student body.
First off, realize that thousands of students choose not to participate in alcohol-related activities at all. But even for those who do — and sure, there are many of them — the vast, vast majority of us act responsibly, using designated drivers, watching out for our friends and drinking (usually) in moderation.
Any physical altercation in a bar is unacceptable, yes. But it's almost as reprehensible to stereotype thousands of courteous, responsible individuals because of the actions of two drunks.
Bravo to the city police for helping maintain this careful balance.
Strub is a senior at Binghamton University and a part-time copy editor at the Press & Sun-Bulletin. His column appears Thursdays.
November 1, 2007 - Marching bands strut their stuff at Vestal High
VESTAL — For hundreds of local high school students, it’s an addiction, a habit you can’t get away from, an all-encompassing, year-round obsession — and it was celebrated Saturday afternoon at Vestal Senior High School.
The Golden Circle of Bands competition, held at Dick Hoover Stadium, showcased seven high school marching bands, including Johnson City, Union-Endicott and host Vestal, in a final tune-up for the next day’s New York State Field Band Conference (NYSFBC) Championships in Syracuse.
But even now, with the 2007 season in the books, the marchers’ love for their craft is sure to stick with them for years to come. Because in a community where so often we hear about teenagers roaming the streets for various reasons, marching band is one addiction that brings nothing but positives to our high schools.
In fact, studies have shown that students with a passion for music and the arts are less likely to get involved with drug dealing, gang violence and the like.
High school marching band is a passion shared by thousands of students around the country, and not just for the weeks of competition throughout September and October.
The end of each competitive season, marked by the annual championship competition held in Syracuse University’s Carrier Dome, represents not only the culmination of a year of hard work, but the first day of the next year’s show. Directors around New York state are already hard at work planning their 2008 show, with Oct. 26, 2008, surely circled on the calendar.
That’s the day of next season’s championship — and for Vestal High School, it’s a date with even more meaning than most.
The Golden Circle of Bands competition, returning to the schedule after a four-year hiatus, is a great way for Vestal High School to show off its show to a home crowd. But by scheduling the show on the season’s final weekend, Vestal gives itself an opportunity to immediately become one of the premier shows of the season.
The reason is twofold:
* Every band is at its performance peak, having made final preparations for the next day’s championships, and
* With Vestal located only an hour or so from Syracuse, many bands may be attracted in the future to this final tune-up opportunity.
Dozens of marching bands from all around the state — including my alma mater, Huntington — make the trip up (or down) to Syracuse for Sunday’s show. So why not stop at beautiful Dick Hoover Stadium the day before, for one last live run-through? Take it from my experience: Students love performing at as many shows as possible, and the convenient juxtaposition of the two shows would make it an easy add to the schedule.
The “Green Machine” of Brentwood saw the opportunity this season, representing the strength of Long Island’s marching bands on Saturday with a remarkable 85.05, finishing second overall on the day to always-impressive Horseheads (87.65).
I suspect that in the future, more downstate bands — including, hopefully, my beloved Blue Devils — will seize this “Golden” opportunity.
Impressive as Saturday’s show was, it was not flawless. I’m still not enamored with the NYSFBC’s policy of having the host band perform during their class’s designated timeslot (which is in a set, predetermined order), rather than last.
Although Horseheads’ performance was the day’s most impressive, surely many fans attend the home show to see the home band.
Also, having marched bass clarinet for three years, I think it would be helpful for Vestal’s small marching contingent, of just 21, to suggest that its pair of bass clarinetists try a more audible brass instrument, such as the trumpet — although Vestal’s lone trumpeter was quite an impressive soloist.
Another suggestion would be to have the marching bands utilize the bleachers opposite the grandstand after their performances.
Those in marching band understand that the day’s competition doesn’t end at the last note. Appearing professional during your entire stay, from the moment you step off the bus until the moment you step back on it, is just as important as the 10 or so minutes that you’re tooting your horn or flipping your flag.
Having the bands sit along those back bleachers allows a bit of respectful, friendly competition to continue throughout the retreat, as members of each band “compete” to see who can be the most professional — and cheer the loudest for their drum majors. This unique atmosphere was missing Saturday, as band members (with the exception of Kingston High School) were generally scattered among the grandstand.
And so when the Golden Circle returns to Dick Hoover Stadium in the future, hopefully with a few more bands in tow, the students’ year-round harmonious professionalism will be showcased once again.
Strub is a senior at Binghamton University and a part-time copy editor at the Press & Sun-Bulletin. His column appears Thursdays.
October 25, 2007 - For a good cause, DJ camps out at grocery
As the final lines of Yes’ “I’ve Seen All Good People” trailed off, Steve “That DJ Guy” Willett jumped to his feet, cleared his throat and grabbed the portable mic.
He quickly scanned the dozen or so plastic bags of food lining the floor of the Winnebago, and rattled off a few clever lines about the day’s Binghamton/ Johnson City “matchup” before offering his signature signoff: “Broadcasting live from the Food-A-Bago, this is Steve for 99.1 The Whale.” (Binghamton won that matchup.)
Such impromptu updates are nothing new for Willett, one-third of the popular classic rock station’s morning show team — he’s been doing radio for more than a decade.
But broadcasting from a “souped”-up (pardon the pun) Winnebago, which he’ll call home until Monday. For this charitable DJ, it’s become an annual routine.
The wacky disc jockey is spending a week broadcasting live from the live-in trailer parked at a Town of Chenango supermarket to raise awareness for CHOW, the local food pantry that supplies over 2.3 million meals to over 24,000 local residents each year.
It’s the eighth straight year that Willett has spent a week in the Food-A-Bago — and he shows no signs of slowing down.
“I find this to be enjoyable,” said Willett on Tuesday afternoon, day two of his annual endeavor. “The tough thing is being away from my wife and kids.”
(He noted that he is not required to stay in the camper 24/7: “I’m living here ... We’re not making it, like, a jail ...”)
Each year is different, with each annual food drive bringing different challenges.
Last year’s drive, in the wake of the area’s devastating flood, brought in a record 6 tons of food. This year, Willett is hoping for an even bigger turnout, with the Food-A-Bago now more visibly residing in the Giant parking lot at 1290 Upper Front St. (In previous years, the vehicle was parked on Rano Boulevard.)
The interior of the Food-a-Bago appears comfortable, except that Willett stands 6-foot-7 — and the ceiling inside stands approximately 6-foot-6.
“Last year, I had a big ceiling. This year ...” He trailed off with a laugh.
This year’s vehicle, provided by Leatherstocking, was still pretty spacious as of Tuesday night, but with all the week’s food being stored inside, Willett doesn’t expect much walking room by this weekend. All varieties of sustenance already lined many of the countertops, nooks and crannies of the interior.
And this year, the radio station has added a couple of new twists, including a friendly competition between neighboring towns that encourages residents to donate on specific days. Tuesday’s match-up pitted Binghamton against Johnson City; and today, Chenango faces off against Fenton.
“I think people like to compete,” Willett said. “It plays off the natural school rivalries between communities.”
Beyond pride, there is no tangible prize for each day’s “winning” community, but the expected increase in donations means that the entire Broome County area will benefit.
As I sat in the Food-a-Bago interviewing the mobile DJ, a woman walked through the driving rain to drop off an armful of non-perishables and personally thank Willett.
“This is a huge boost for all of us,” said the woman, completely undaunted by the downpour, who explained that she runs a smaller pantry in the area that received food from CHOW. “I’m waiting for you, because next week I’m getting a big delivery (from CHOW). So thank you — from all the little guys.
“And I listen to you,” she said with a smile as she walked away.
So, Steve, is this task rewarding?
“Definitely — especially when I run into the people who have experienced first-hand what CHOW does,” the DJ said.
But even shrouded with the local celebrity moniker, Willett admitted that he and his family have struggled through hard times.
“Sometimes they don’t realize that CHOW is an emergency service; it’s not always the same people going back over and over again,” said Willett, who has been working with CHOW for 13 years. “Y’know, sometimes, we’ve had to struggle, too. Luckily, we’ve been able to make it.”
“We get some repeaters,” said CHOW director Ed Blaine. “But mostly, it’s just people who have a bill that comes in.”
Blaine said he’s very appreciative of Willett’s yearly efforts in the Food-a-Bago.
“Steve’s doing a great job for us,” Blaine said. “This gives us kind of an extra push ... it’s a great time of the year for him to be helping us.”
The week follows the annual CHOW Hunger Walk, which took place Sunday at Binghamton University with approximately 800 walkers. Participants solicited sponsorships, raising more than $50,000.
Willett, who runs a private DJ business separate from his gig at the Whale, is volunteering his time — and it’s not always easy.
The grind of doing the morning show — which begins at 5 a.m. — and staying up for hourly updates through 9 p.m. can get taxing throughout the week, Willett said.
But, with the radio in the vehicle playing The Whale all day long, has he ever missed an hourly cue? He blushed.
“I fell asleep (once),” he admitted. “I woke up and I was like, ‘Holy cow, I missed a report.’ I try not to lie down; if I lie down, I will fall asleep.”
Somehow, I bet, the warehouses will find a way to forgive him.
Strub is a senior at Binghamton University and a part-time copy editor at the Press & Sun-Bulletin. His column appears Thursdays.
October 18, 2007 - After dark, Binghamton Zoo becomes a boo-tiful place
The sign at the zoo’s main entrance told me I couldn’t bring in soccer balls, balloons, roller skates or a water gun.
I guess that means the guy with the chain saw was OK.
Of course, the chain saw-wielding masked murderer, the atheist stuck in the stocks, and the ’tween with a box of brains were all invited guests to last weekend’s “Boo at the Zoo,” a popular annual tradition at the Binghamton Zoo at Ross Park.
The event was my first trip to the city zoo, and the darkness associated with showing up at 8:30 p.m. means it probably shouldn’t be my last, since I couldn’t really see much of anything.
Don’t get me wrong — most animals sleep at night, and so I wasn’t expecting the full monty. The few folks I heard complaining as they left about not seeing any animals obviously missed the point of the event.
I’m also aware that the zoo’s normal business hours are 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., and this once-a-year-event is meant to be shrouded in the dark of night.
But there’s nary a reason to feel unsafe before parking the car and paying admission.
Arriving relatively late (8:30 p.m., still plenty of time to walk the trails), I was permitted to park in one of the zoo’s multi-tiered parking levels, even as a trolley shuttled people back and forth from another parking lot at United Medical Associates on Pennsylvania Ave.
Traversing the parking lots on foot in absolute darkness turned out to be almost as scary as the Haunted Houses that awaited us inside. With my path illuminated only by the dim glow of my cell phone, I prayed for no real nightmares to occur — like a small child escaping a parent’s grip, and running in front of a car.
Again, it should be noted that the zoo is almost never open past dusk, and so the dark parking lot wouldn’t normally be an issue. But with thousands of little kids scurrying around the area, this columnist was genuinely concerned during his three-minute hike back to his vehicle.
But I digress.
Once I got inside — after a 20-minute wait on a huge line — “Boo at the Zoo” itself was a good time, if only to see and hear hundreds of pre-teens scared out of their shoes over and over again.
There were a few nicely constructed haunted houses set up in the midst of the darkness, and I don’t care how old you are, or how immune you claim to be to such things: when a seemingly inanimate object comes to life and screams at you, you’re going to scream back.
To me, those houses were the highlight of the event. Decorated with faux spider webs and dark-colored streamers and doused in fake blood, costumed teens waited behind each corner, making every step through the hand-crafted setups nerve-wracking.
The houses’ props were fitting; I particularly liked a hand-drawn advertisement for “Big Daddy’s Pizza” — the most popular blackout food on State Street.
Tables of doughnuts and apple cider, and numerous displays of hand-painted gourds, were also popular attractions during the two-night event.
(Unfortunately, I discovered midway through the event that there were no ghouls hiding in the zoo’s men’s room — tell me that wouldn’t be a sweet hiding place?)
The dozens of carefully carved pumpkins that lined the walkways will be on display tonight at Pumpkin Fest, a free (donations accepted) thank-you to the zoo’s loyal patrons, according to the zoo’s Web site, rossparkzoo.com. (Pumpkin Fest runs 6:30 to 8 p.m. in the lower zoo — no chain saws allowed.)
Strub is a senior at Binghamton University and a part-time copy editor at the Press & Sun-Bulletin. His column appears Thursdays.
cstrub@pressconnects.com
October 11, 2007 - Development paradox puts Tier on hold
The question is as divisive as it is simple: Does Johnson City need a Wal-Mart?
From the forums on our Web site to water coolers around the Southern Tier, discussions about the proposed development of a second Superstore within 5 miles of the chain’s humongous Vestal location are a microcosm of an overarching issue: are superstores such as Wal-Mart responsible for the death of the Mom & Pop business?
Critics argue that the construction of a superstore will lower prices beyond levels that nickel-and-dime shops could compete with. While preservation of older, smaller businesses is beneficial to any community, affordable living is one of the main attractions for anyone considering moving to the area.
And although City Council and Mayor Matt Ryan are at odds over tax rates and other budget-related issues, the simple fact remains: the cost of living around Binghamton is among the lowest in the country. Especially for young workers (like myself) without tons of disposable income, it sure is convenient to get a lot of proverbial bang for the buck.
So when it comes to stocking the fridge every week, or picking up a light bulb, set of batteries or piece of furniture, the presence of superstores, such as Wal-Mart, helps me and the rest of the proletariat do so without breaking the bank.
These larger stores, as evil as they may sound, invoke the concept of the economy of scale, which states that having one larger store — instead of several smaller ones — decreases a lot of the inherent fixed costs. This, in turn, lowers prices — and subsequently, wages.
Keeping Wal-Mart out of Johnson City might keep open a handful of Mom & Pop shops around the town, but it would also preserve a sizable brownfield that in part represents the absence of development in the Southern Tier since the unfortunate end of the EJ era several decades ago.
It seems paradoxical that many of the same residents who lament the lack of economic growth in the area would reject the idea of bringing in a superstore such as Wal-Mart to Johnson City. A round-the-clock location would result in an influx of jobs to JC.
Meanwhile, the chain’s Vestal location annually brings in millions of dollars of business, and Vestal certainly hasn’t shriveled up economically. In fact, more and more locally owned businesses, such as Music City, are flocking to the Vestal Parkway.
Wal-Mart itself is the center of the Town Square Mall — a popular retail center that boasts a number of other successful businesses.
So as negotiations continue to possibly bring a second superstore to the area, it’s important to keep in mind the benefits of expansion — even large-scale expansion — in today’s quickly expanding economy.
Strub is a senior at Binghamton University and a part-time copy editor at the Press & Sun-Bulletin. His column appears Thursdays.
October 4, 2007 - Think that sewage odor problem has been solved? Stink again
Work stinks lately.
And while you might think your job stinks year-round, the past couple weeks have been particularly odiferous for me and the colorful cast I work alongside at the Press & Sun-Bulletin.
That’s right: it’s sewage-scrubbing time at the Binghamton-JC Joint Sewage Treatment Facility! Apparently, this far-reaching stench is an annual ritual.
And while I found myself checking my desk, keyboard, and the deputy Community Conversation editor for the source of the mysterious odor, my relatively oblivious co-workers told me that the smell used to be — believe it or not — much, much worse.
(If you’re an online reader enjoying this from the convenience of a Febrezed living room, imagine: halftime, in the upper deck men’s room at Giants Stadium, on free-chili dogs-and-beer night. And it is not high-quality chili ...)
At times, they say, the smell was so bad, the Press used to print a “stink-o-meter” to “measure” just how overwhelming the day’s odor was. The accompanying graphic was a skunk with a clothespin on its nose.
A trip to the archives revealed hundreds of clips about the Old Vestal Road facility, some with clever headlines — “Composter ready to rot and roll” (Sept. 13, 1996) being my personal favorite.
But Jay Leno-isms aside, the smell is pretty bad. While I don’t smell anything from my downtown living quarters, I can see how the wafting odor can be more than a simple nuisance for families living around Vestal Road, Riverside Drive and the surrounding area.
And although I lived across the street from this very office, on campus, for several years, this particular aroma never seemed to strike the college. (I’ll credit the 5,000 coeds filling half the dorms, with their perfume and Glade plug-ins; if not for them, the resulting male stench might be 10 times worse than the present situation.)
Solutions — some very expensive — have been proposed in the past. A July 1989 article by Edie Lau quotes several “furious” Johnson City residents, including then-mayor Edward Boncek, voicing their disappointment that a $266,000 geodesic dome wouldn’t be in place until 1990.
The next Edie Lau article in the stack?
June 14, 1990: “Dome fails to seal in sewage plant odor.”
And then?
July 10, 1991: “JC attacks sewage smell: Plan includes chemical cover, ‘odor investigators.’” (‘Odor investigator’ meaning, the town was soliciting opinions from those living in the neighborhood.)
A 1992 clipping discusses a $1 million odor-control system, while a 1994 Sarah Peery clip is titled, “Sewer stench is under study again.”
And in 2002, residents again were told to wait “just three more years,” until 2005, for the completion of yet another expensive plan that doesn’t seem to have worked.
And so countless summers — and millions of dollars of research — later, the smell remains. And while it’s true that, as a famous book once declared, “Everyone Poops,” it’s a shame that after so many years, this town’s smell activists have yet to put together a definitive ... well, bowel movement.
Strub is a senior at Binghamton University and a part-time copy editor at the Press & Sun-Bulletin. His column appears Thursdays.
cstrub@pressconnects.com
September 27, 2007 - Carpathian Festival a day to celebrate traditions
BINGHAMTON - This town's spiedies are tasty, but the kobasy at Sunday's Carpathian Festival was out of this world.
The variety of ethnic food served at the annual festival last weekend was the main attraction for over a thousand people at St. Michael's Church, who spent the afternoon socializing, singing, dancing - and eating.
"The food's my favorite part, and the fellowship's a close second," said Dave Gdovin, the president of the St. Michael's Church Council. "It waffles back and forth, depending on if I'm full or not."
While this columnist fell in love with the kobasy - a synonym of kielbasa, a zesty Polish sausage - the freshly made pirohi were undoubtedly the day's main attraction. Over 900 dozen pirohi were packed for the one-day festival, and Gdovin said he anticipated a sellout.
In the early evening, as hundreds of those pirohi were being devoured, Binghamton Mayor Matthew T. Ryan made a proclamation, officially declaring Msgr. Stephan Dutko the town's new Pirohi King.
While such a decree might seem frivolous, the pirohi business is a big deal in town. A promotion being run by prime pirohi producer Mrs. T's will soon declare the "Pirohi Capital of the World," and Binghamton will compete with cities like Buffalo, Pittsburgh and New York City, said Gdovin.
"They might have more people, but when it comes down to it, we've got more pirohi per person," he said.
That's thanks, in large part, to the hundreds of locals of Eastern
European descent who patronized the annual celebration this weekend. The festival has run for over 60 years, with the last 50 years held in the church's gymnasium, said Gdovin. Most of the families at the festival knew each other, he said, as several young children and elderly gentlemen came up to say hello to him.
And while temperatures outside neared record highs, the cozy nature of the gym provided a very friendly atmosphere, with culture spilling in from all sides of the room.
While volunteers served food along the gym's near side, raffles and children's games lined the far side of the room. And as dancers from as far as New York City took the main stage, musical acts prepared to perform on the balcony in the rear.
The festival is named after the Carpathian Mountains, a region that runs through Romania, Slovakia, Ukraine and Poland. Many families from Holland Street to the Oakdale Mall, said Gdovin, moved from the region to Binghamton, especially during the Endicott-Johnson era.
"I like the tradition of the whole thing," said Bobbi Gorman, one of a group of five friendly women sitting and admiring the atmosphere. "You'd never know the other cultures if you didn't come."
Gorman and her friends, Jane Griffith, Peggy Liberati, Stephanie Greblick and Josie Walling, said they frequent many different ethnic festivals throughout the year. Gorman referred to herself as a "roamer," a member of several different churches.
The group enjoys heading to festivals at St. Mary's, St. Andrew's and St. Cyril's, among others, and were enjoying the Carpathian Festival, with it being one of the last of the year.
"I love the music and the food," said Walling, smiling. "All we need are some men to dance with."
Strub is a senior at Binghamton University, a part-time copy editor at the Press & Sun-Bulletin and a new resident of Binghamton's West Side. His column appears Thursdays.
cstrub@pressconnects.com
September 20, 2007 - Agritourism adventure a pleasant draw off campus
NEWARK VALLEY — At the “MAiZE” at Stoughton Farm, getting lost is half the fun.
Having watched my friend and I circle around the same complex intersection six times in 20 minutes, the “Corn Cop” — a teenager appointed to assist lost travelers like us — suddenly appeared.
“Just to let you know,” she said, “you’re heading back towards (intersection number) seven again.”
Oops.
Of course, the two of us made it out alive — my cellular phone is not equipped (yet) to file columns from a cornfield.
But despite our missteps, we never had any real worries; getting lost in the giant jumble of towering corn cobs is an inevitable part of the fun. And as we were assured before entering, “Everyone who’s ever gone into the ‘MAiZE’ has come out alive.”
These days, an increasing number of fans are making their way through this unique attraction, tucked away in the hills of this small town, about 25 minutes northeast of Binghamton.
Located on Route 38 in Newark Valley, this “MAiZE” is one of over 1,200 of its kind in five countries. There are nine such mazes in New York state, according to the company’s Web site, www.cornfieldmaze.com.
The “MAiZE” at Stoughton Farm is an example of agritourism — a growing sector designed to turn farms into tourist attractions. In rural areas like Newark Valley and Chenango County, agritourism is a budding industry, as more and more people are drawn to farmlands year-round for vegetable-picking, animal rides and even corn mazes.
This particular maze has two parts, with both entrances and both exits located in the same small clearing. Part I typically takes about 20 minutes, while the longer Part II takes around an hour, said Linda Yetter, who was working the cash register this past weekend. (The farm doesn’t keep track of “record times.”)
Having two parts to the maze allows for a brief break in between, and allows an abridged version for youngsters or the elderly who’d struggle through more than an hour of walking, Yetter said.
And it is quite a bit of walking. Although we finished the first part in just 16 minutes, it took us just 11 frustrating minutes of Part II before we first contemplated cheating. We eventually escaped with a total time of 81 minutes.
The design of the Stoughton Farm maze is one of a kind: sculpted into the field this year is a giant, heart-shaped portrait of Anne and Maurice Stoughton, parents of Tim and Deb Stoughton, the farm’s proprietors. The couple had recently celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary.
As the maze was built through the summer months, the tribute was kept secret from the elder Stoughtons. In August, the surprise was revealed during a helicopter ride.
Fall 2007 is the third year that Stoughton Farm is running its MAiZE. In 2005, the field was modeled like a helicopter, honoring Lockheed Martin’s US101 contract. Last year’s design was a sulky, or one-man racehorse, in honor of Tioga Downs.
Next year’s design will be concocted this winter, after the attraction closes on Halloween, she added.
In the meantime, Internet-savvy readers shouldn’t expect a sneak peek any time soon: overhead views of the area on Web sites like Google Maps and Mapquest appear to be blurred out. (You can see the overhead view of the portrait on cornfieldmaze.com.)
If the trek through the humongous maze leaves you hungry — and it will — the farm sells a limited variety of fried foods. However, on our way back to Binghamton, we decided to fill up buffet-style at Phil’s Chicken House, about which I could write two more full columns.
The hospitable staff at Phil’s — along with several self-inflicted inordinate portions of mashed potatoes and gravy — made my first trip to this quaint rural town quite enjoyable.
Strub is a senior at Binghamton University, a part-time copy editor at the Press & Sun-Bulletin and a new resident of Binghamton’s West Side. His column appears Thursdays.
cstrub@pressconnects.com
September 13, 2007 - Question about terrorism brings strong responses
“Man on the Street” is a feature we run each week, spotlighting the opinions of a handful of local residents on some specific topic.
Once a week, I head down to a popular commercial area — usually the Oakdale Mall — and interview eight or so random folks, none expecting their opinions to appear in print that weekend.
Sometimes, the topic is fun: What local events are you looking forward to this summer? ... Any big plans for Labor Day? ... Do you like spiedies?
This week, the topic was a bit more solemn.
“Six years after 9/11, how do you think the war on terror has gone so far?”
My question elicited some of the most varied, intense responses to date. (The answers will appear Saturday in this section.)
One responder gave me enough to fill two full pages on my stenographer’s pad. More than one person made a comparison to Vietnam.
One couple told me of a relative in the aerospace industry who’s warned them of the “definite possibility” of another plane being hijacked, similar to the Sept. 11 catastrophe.
Another person simply grinned, looked at my press pass, and carefully enunciated an unprintable expletive.
Walking back towards the parking lot after finishing up, I ran into Brian Daniel, a young, bright-eyed calendar salesman manning a kiosk.
I asked him about the “Local Interest” stand, which prominently displayed a half-full shelf of calendars labeled “The Out of Office Countdown!” The packaging showed our nation’s president in one of his trademark grins, underneath a banner headline: “2008 Through the Glorious End! (Jan. 20, 2009)” The larger calendars were titled “Bye-Bye Bush,” and a smaller collection of Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama Inauguration calendars.
How, exactly, is that “Local Interest?”
“The anti-Bush thing is huge,” Daniel said. “We’ve been selling these for years.”
(He recited one of his favorite quotes: “It’s in our best interest to take those who would do us harm out of harm’s way.”)
Some of the more traditional favorites, featuring scantily clad models, furry farm animals and friendly cartoon characters, sat untouched in the middle of the section.
From my random-sample reporting this week, it’s clear that the war on terror is one of the more important issues in area residents’ minds. But less clear is: How would you define the war on terror?
Some respondents spoke of our country’s mission in Iraq. Some specifically cited al-Qaida and September 11, while others took a domestic perspective.
My open-ended question spurred a lot of different answers, but as the calendar peddler said, one recurring theme seemed to surface. Even my drive back to the Press & Sun-Bulletin wasn’t devoid of the day’s political theme, as I followed a black sedan with a bright green bumper sticker that read simply:
“11.04.08.”
September 6, 2007 - Early mornings help build students’ character
I’ve always been a fan of Burger King’s famous French Toast Sticks and maple syrup — but not for lunch.
But when I received my schedule for senior year of high school — supposedly the most fun 10 months of one’s life — I faced a horrifying menu of imitation breakfast delicacies, served daily until 10 a.m. That’s right; I had been assigned fourth-period lunch.
It was bad enough to have first-period chemistry class beginning precisely at 7:30 a.m., but fourth-period lunch made chem feel easy. As a senior with the day’s earliest lunch session, beginning at 9:48 a.m., we were allowed to drive or walk off campus (save a major snowstorm) to buy a commercial lunch.
At 9:48 a.m.
As horrible as it was to force down lunch (well, brunch) before “The Early Show” ended — and it was horrible — I’m still inclined to believe that starting school bright and early is important.
The high school day is already long and tiring. My high school (on Long Island) was based on a nine-period system, from 7:30 a.m. to 2:20 p.m. Although fourth-period lunch was eternally scarring, in retrospect this seems like a very reasonable work day.
Our school newspaper club would hold meetings from 2:30-ish to 3:30-ish, once a week. This would still leave you plenty of time to make it to an after-school play rehearsal or athletic practice, which would typically last until about 5.
If school began at 9 a.m., and lasted until, say, 4 p.m., daylight would have been awfully scarce for any after-school activities. As it was, soccer practice after daylight-saving time was often cut short by the sun’s refusal to cooperate.
A later start would likely move many athletic practices to before first period, but away games in neighboring counties that require significant travel time would present late-afternoon issues.
For students not as involved with after-school activities, a later school day would keep students off the streets during business hours — but it would also encourage troublemakers to stay up later during the week.
There’s also the built-in luxury of having those daily couple of hours of freedom before dinner time. While after-school activities are nice, it’s also an opportunity for many adolescents to have the house to themselves for a bit, before Mom and/or Dad return home from work for the day. (Whether those hours are filled with homework or havoc is another issue.)
The early-morning schedule is also an introduction to the so-called “real world,” where most jobs begin earlier than we like to imagine — except, of course, the newspaper production business.
And as for me? I’m just glad that fourth-period lunch is history — and after this column, I no longer have to “waffle” on the issue.
Strub is a senior at Binghamton University, a part-time copy editor at the Press & Sun-Bulletin and a new resident of Binghamton’s West Side. His column appears Thursdays.
August 30, 2007 - City’s message to BU students: ‘Big Brother’ is watching
This past weekend marked the return of thousands of Binghamton University students to the area, as classes were set to begin first thing Monday morning.
“Welcome Back Weekend,” as it’s called, is perennially a major event for the Southern Tier, as scores of students move back into their on- and off-campus residences around Greater Binghamton.
For a community questioning its ability to attract and retain young professionals, one would think that this weekend would be one of joy. The annual influx of not only more people, but more money — very often Mommy and Daddy’s money — would seem to provide the area with exactly what it desires.
But in some instances, that’s not the case.
The City of Binghamton announced last Thursday — freshman move-in day — that a set of security cameras was being installed around the downtown Binghamton area. These devices are being implemented, apparently, to prevent “major” crimes in several “hot spots,” including State Street, a popular hangout for college students.
This “Big Brother” concept is a touchy issue for many people. The idea of being watched by the government, even in a limited capacity, inevitably leads to paranoia and consternation.
It’s bad enough that the city thinks that crime is so out of control that they need cameras to help. But it’s doubly unfortunate that the city chose to “Welcome Back” its thousands of students with this thinly veiled declaration.
As was discussed in-depth in Monday’s Press & Sun-Bulletin by both a Guest Viewpoint and an op-ed piece, Binghamton University students are not a band of derelicts. Those crazy Bearcats are not interested in simply ravaging this area that many of them call home for four or more years.
The students’ presence actually helps the area in many ways. There’s the well-known fact that BU is the No. 1 employer in the area, providing thousands of jobs for both blue- and white-collar workers. The university’s presence has also spawned a sprawl of businesses that depend primarily on student spending, most notably University Plaza, which continues to expand rapidly with the summertime addition of a Starbucks café.
The students themselves also provide all kinds of support to the community. As I wrote about last month, sophomore Nick Matyas is now a full-fledged member of the Johnson City school board. Hundreds of fraternity and sorority members participate in community service events, and the school’s annual Relay for Life event, run by student volunteers, has become one of the largest of its kind in the country.
Despite all that, the city decided it would draw a line in the sand last week by juxtaposing the announcement of the new surveillance program with the student body’s arrival. Ouch.
The division between the local residents and the students is well-documented, and this inconveniently timed announcement didn’t help matters. Even by announcing the news earlier last week, or perhaps this week, the program would not have come off as such an obvious potshot at the thousands of residents who contribute so much to the area.
Strub is a senior at Binghamton University, a part-time copy editor at the Press & Sun-Bulletin and a new resident of Binghamton’s West Side. His column appears Thursdays.
August 23, 2007 - A trip to the Harford Fair
Their collective look was one of shock, borderline disappointment. I thought I broke the news to the Tyler family quite gently: I’d never been to a rural fair before; never experienced such a festival, a grand celebration of a lifestyle that, with my “city boy” background, I’d never lived.
The family spun around simultaneously, a bit offended, shooting me a look that screamed, “Did you really just say that?” At the moment, I didn’t realize the scope of my admission.
But after just one rainy afternoon at the Harford Fair, it’s easy now to see why the annual gala in this tiny town lasts six full days and nights, draws fans from all around America — and is so beloved by so many Susquehanna County residents.
From the hay bale tossing contest to the “garbologists” (more on that later), the 150th annual Harford Fair, which runs through Saturday, is filled with exciting displays, thousands of adorable farm animals, popular music acts, carnival rides (some of which could use a dab of grease), friendly competitions, and (of course) delectable country-style food.
The best part, though, had to be the people. It’s no exaggeration to say that the town of Harford is practically one big family. As native 12-year-old Andrew Tyler told me: “Harford is — small.” (Drew estimated a population of “500 or less”; the 2000 U.S. census estimated 1,301.)
Then, the boy’s eyes lit up. “It has its own post office” ... which he described as “the second smallest in the country.” He also pointed out that “there’s a celebrity who lives in Harford!”
Really? Who?
The gregarious young’un shrugged. “I don’t know.”
At the start of Monday’s Old-Time Competitive Games at 1 p.m. — which initially compelled me and two co-workers to attend — I befriended the peppy 12-year-old, who said he lives “right down the road” from the fairgrounds.
As the afternoon drew on, the three rows in front of us in Section F filled with members of the Tyler family, as we cheered on Aunt Peggy and Step-Grandma Dorothy in the skillet-tossing competition, and watched Drew’s dad drive by in a tractor. “We know almost everybody here,” said Drew. “I have 25 cousins — 12 real cousins, and 13 step-cousins. My Dad has 27 real cousins.”
It was sometime between the skillet finals and the ensuing greasy pole-climbing competition — won by 12-year-old Jessica Calderone of Endwell, the only girl entered — that I broke the shocking news to the Tyler clan.
Within seconds, Drew listed off his favorite eight or nine attractions of the six-day fair — surely, we couldn’t miss Friday night’s rodeo, the queen competition, the fair’s signature cake that feeds 1,000 people, or what he called the “Hot Wingy on a Pretzel.”
So after watching Drew attempt to scale that towering greasy pole — “I’ve climbed a pole before, just never greased,” he said — we headed over to the pretzel stand, where I tried my first pretzel sandwich: a surreally tender, spicy chicken breast smothered in bleu cheese dressing sauce, enveloped by a fresh, squishy pretzel. (It was amazing.)
By now, the ominous cloud covering had pried itself open, unleashing a steady rain that one might expect to dampen equipment and moods alike. Not the case.
We braved the drizzly environment to find people even more hospitable than before — like the garbologists.
Darryl Goff, 17, was making the rounds Monday afternoon emptying out the dozens of trash cans scattered around the fairgrounds. One of 14 volunteers on the crew, Goff proudly introduced himself as a third-year garbologist, as if quickly approaching graduation from a faux school of hard knocks.
Then there was Jacob Hottle, 11, who posed for a photo with his (yes, his) two pigs, Scooby-Doo and Shaggy. Tim and Christina Button, proprietors of the Button Valley Co. in New Milford, dressed in convincing contemporary outfits, displaying handmade soap and forging cast iron in an open oven. Even Smokey the Bear strolled by, shaking hands in a makeshift parade that seemed to materialize from nowhere.
For everything we checked out in our rainy several-hour stay, there were plenty of other fun things we missed out on, making a return trip this weekend a distinct possibility — if only for another “Hot Wingy on a Pretzel.”
And this time, I won’t have to break that same bad news.
Strub is a senior at Binghamton University, a part-time copy editor at the Press & Sun-Bulletin and a new resident of Binghamton’s West Side. His column appears Thursdays.
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