In a way, it feels like not that much has changed. I think that’s part of getting older: a year  will go by and your life feels fundamentally the same as it did the year before. I don’t remember that happening when I was younger.

The next year will most likely be very different. I don’t know what it’s going to look like, but I’m looking forward to it. In the meantime, here’s a picture from this last year.

Morning sky by Kelly Drive.

Mild animosity against the Amish because of a perceived tax or business advantage they get from the government is nothing new. Snarky Amish supporters have long enjoyed poking fun at people who whine that “the Amish don’t pay taxes for roads, and their buggies cause more damage than vehicles.” (There are no taxes specifically for roads, so no one pays “road taxes.” The Amish do pay general local, state and federal taxes, the first two of which usually pay for roads.)

My father has mentioned before that at some point, probably when the economy gets bad, this kind of rhetoric is going to become more widespread, and will have stronger evidence to support it. I.e., the Inqy article.

A couple observations off the top:

A lot of the comments (but not all) cheer on the Amish, seeing the disagreement as a fight between “union thugs” and hardworking plain workers. I don’t think this is entirely accurate, as I’m not sure how many of these Main Line roofing firms are actually unionized. My guess is not many.

Second, the two Amish advantages the non-Amish contractors point out are the lack of Social Security and worker’s compensation payments from the Amish. As the article states, the worker’s comp payments are most likely not giving anyone a competitive advantage.

Social Security is another issue, and one where the non-Amish have a stronger case. However, I still don’t think it’s going to gain a lot of traction, especially if the general public, correctly or not, associates those complaining with unions, which aren’t exactly popular.

First, Amish supporters could point out that, while the Amish do not usually contribute to Social Security (they see it as a form of insurance), they do their own form of localized aid, paying for medical bills of Amish church members. So while one particular owner might not be contributing that much, an Amish-owned company employing Amish workers could argue that they spend more on the community than non-Amish companies, which in the end evens out the Social Security advantage.

The most effective reaction to the non-Amish complaints is the one that the Amish roofers have been using: that the Amish simply work faster and better.

This is damaging to the non-Amish argument because the public generally sees the Amish as hardworking, quality craftsmen. Also, it inadvertently plays into the stereotype that the non-Amish companies are possibly unionized, Philly fat cats with a sense of entitlement. Third, those who hire the Amish companies generally agree, as the Inqy article shows. Two homeowners both credit quality more than price when they were asked why they went with the Amish.

Even the non-Amish contractors seem to play into this a little. See the following quote from the Inqy:

“They don’t work faster,” he said, suggesting that a lower cost of living in the Amish community – no cable bills, for example – was a big factor. “They don’t have a lifestyle. They just work.”

In two consecutive thoughts, he denies the Amish work faster and then proceeds to suggest that they do, because they don’t have a “lifestyle,” and just work all the time. In other words, they can work faster, no?

Non-Amish contractors will probably continue to have a problem with the Amish exemptions, and that could cause problems for the Amish if those contractors have friends in high places. But it’s hard to see how the public, which seems to associate the non-Amish with unions anyway, is going to be upset about what they see as lower priced, higher quality contractors moving in on Main Line business.

Footage of otters, that is. I wasn’t saying the jaguar ate the otters. That would have been traumatizing, for me and the otters. Ok, mostly just for the otters.

But sometimes the grammar and spelling nerdiness goes too far. The world is not ending because “U r 2″ is now a complete sentence. Specifically, I have a problem with the idea that instant messaging, texting and Internet-speak has ushered in a doom spiral of bad grammar, non-existent copy editing and poor spelling.

This is a myth, pure and simple.

We see this myth too often. For example, this admittedly clever obituary to the English language by the usually excellent Gene Weingarten.

I know Mr. Weingarten is being facetious, but the feeling that English is diminished or dying is very real among grammar aficionados. Unfortunately, it’s a feeling devoid of truth.

Here is the lede in Weingarten’s story:

“The English language, which arose from humble Anglo-Saxon roots to become the lingua franca of 600 million people worldwide and the dominant lexicon of international discourse, is dead. It succumbed last month at the age of 1,617 after a long illness. It is survived by an ignominiously diminished form of itself.”

The reason for the death and preceding illness, he says, was the atrocious misspellings and unnecessary phrases found in America’s newspapers and public discourse.

But if poor spelling is evidence of the death of English, then it’s always been dead. For example: the U.S. Constitution.

Or the Declaration of Independence, which refers to “our Brittish brethren.” (emphasis added)

Some English fans might protest. “But that was before standardized dictionaries and AP Style were around,” they might argue. “We have those wonderful resources now, and journalists of all people should know how to spell words correctly.”

Their point is well taken. But it is still ludicrous to suggest that, because misspellings frequent the pages of newspapers, English is dying. Even the best newspapers have always made mistakes, both mundane and spectacular. Not to mention, adult illiteracy has decreased from 20 percent in the 1800s to less than 1 percent today, according to the National Center for Education Statistics.

I realize I’m being a bit of a curmudgeon. Most people who say the English language is dying do so jokingly, and may not think it’s in any real danger. But it frustrates me when people say that Americans don’t care about English anymore, or that Internet-speak is ruining the language – especially when the opposite is true.

I welcome your thoughts, comments or criticism. Am I wrong, or just too sensitive? I’m interested to hear what others think about English and its use/mastery by its speakers, readers and writers. Is English going downhill?

So back to my new neighborhood. It didn’t seem to have a name. Very broadly, it is North Philadelphia, but that moniker covers half the city. Lower North Philadelphia might be more appropriate, but that runs from the Delaware to the Schuykill.

A view looking east on Mt. Vernon Street.

The neighborhoods surrounding mine all have their own names, but they are too distinct to include my ‘hood. To the east is trendy Northern Liberties. But the trendiness ends around Sixth Street, when a few industrial buildings and a housing project psychologically separate NoLibs from the west.

To the south, below Spring Garden, an abundance of monikers exists. Some say Chinatown extends that far north, evidenced by Vietnamese and Chinese food markets a block south of Spring Garden Street. The neighborhood is also referred to as the Loft District, an appropriate-enough title given all the converted industrial buildings there.

But, the names for east-of-Broad, south-of-Spring Garden, north-of Vine St. Expressway don’t stop there. Eraserhood, owing to its bombed-out nature and the abandoned Reading Viaduct railway, recently named to the Register of Historic Places. And Callowhill, a more traditional name, from Callowhill Street, which runs parallel to Spring Garden to the south.

But Callowhill-Eraserhood-Loft District-Northern Stretches of Chinatown don’t apply to my ‘hood north of Spring Garden. There are no lofts, it’s not bombed out (there’s actually a lot of new construction), it has no connection to Callowhill, and the already-stretched definition of Chinatown certainly doesn’t reach this far.

To the west, there are just more problems. Spring Garden and Fairmount, and a tad north, Francisville, are three names for the neighborhood west-of-Broad and north-of-Spring Garden (Francisville is north of Fairmount, to be fair). Spring Garden and Fairmount could theoretically apply to my ‘hood, but historically they haven’t, and it’s problematic to just start changing boundaries all willy-nilly.

The Ukrainian Catholic church in "Poplar."

To the north, things get a little hazy, and it’s not just smog (haha!). Just below Temple there is Yorktown. Just below that is W. Girard Avenue.

There are two names I have found that have referred to this general area. One is Richard Allen, first alerted to me by a helpful Philadelphian on Twitter. The name refers to the public housing project, one of the first in the United States, that became notorious for drugs and crime in the latter half of the century.

This name is fine, but considering that the project, since somewhat revitalized, sits just south of Girard, and isn’t the defining aspect of the area like it used to be, the name doesn’t seem adequate. Especially not for the area between Fairmount and Spring Garden, which has a fairly different feel from the Girard area.

The other name that perhaps is most suitable is Poplar. The name refers to the general area I live in, and takes its inspiration from the Redevelopment Authority’s name for an area slated for redevelopment.

I turned to Linn Washington and Chris Harper, facilitators of the acclaimed Philadelphia Neighborhoods, the convergence-focused capstone for Temple journalism majors.

“The neighborhood you describe (Broad-6th/Girard-SG) sounds a lot like what is called West Popular … the RDA reference is about accurate,” Washington said in an e-mail.

Shedding some light on how ‘hoods get their name, Washington said they change as the city does.

“Neighborhoods and their names change over time sometimes. When I moved to Philly in 1970 there wasn’t an official designated University City – it was the UPenn area – then University City appeared, roughly from north of Drexel’s campus at 33rd St. out to 40th and Market St. over to the river,” Washington said.

“When I lived a few years on 49th near Larchwood, that area was solidly West Philadelphia but now that area is considered in University City – go figure.”

A steeple of the most-likely-doomed Church of the Assumption

After a conversation on Twitter about the subject, the good folks at Brownstoner Philly posted a blurb and poll about the question. The winner seems to be Poplar, followed by Eraserhood and Warehouse District.

So, for now, I will go with West Poplar. Although, it does surprise me how relatively unknown this name is for the area. Perhaps it’s because there aren’t many defining landmarks that draw folks here, but the name doesn’t seem to have near the recognition of NoLibs or Spring Garden. Or for that matter, Eraserhood or the Loft District.

Out of curiosity, I’m interested to know how many people knew of the name Poplar or West Poplar to refer to this area. Thoughts?

(For the record, Washington said he doesn’t know the reason for the Hartranft reference to the specific hood mentioned in the beginning of the post, either. “I didn’t know that section of North Philly carried that name until I started working regularly with MURL – before that it was just ‘North Philly around TU’s Main Campus’ for me,” he said.)

But, I was a little skeptical as well. Perhaps it goes without saying, but I don’t believe in bad luck numbers, omens or signs. So, I decided to try to find an alternate explanation, or at least a little more context.

I realize that many people don’t openly believe in the superstition, so it may seem obvious that this case is not, in fact, evidence of the unlucky number 13 striking again. But most people, consciously or not, are superstitious.

When I realized Friday the 13th was approaching, I felt almost apprehensive. I don’t believe in black cats or the unlucky number 13 or “jinxing” sports teams or any of it, but I still couldn’t help but hope that nothing bad happened to me. So, I think it’s worth looking at the context of a case of what seems like proof of unlucky omens.

First, some facts about lightning strikes on people. Depending on where you look, there are between several hundred and several thousand lightning strikes per year. I haven’t found a real consensus, but I’m going to go with these numbers.

That means that on a given day, an average of between one and five or six people are hit by lightning every day.

Mortality rates also vary, but estimates put the percentage of people who die after being hit by lightning between 5 and 20, or even 30, percent. So between 25 and 500 people die every year from lightning strikes. In other words, between 2 and 40 people die every month from being hit by lightning.

Looking at the situation the 13-year-old was in is helpful, too. Specifically, he was watching a display of the Red Arrows, a British aeronautical display team, during a downpour. Hardly an unlikely place to get hit by lightning.

In a way, our propensity for patterns and superstition makes us give this story more weight than it really carries: by some estimates, someone dies every day from lightning. This boy wasn’t killed, and only suffered minor burns. So, if at 13-years-old, and on Friday the 13th, at exactly 13:13 o’clock, surely the unluckiest possible scenario would commence, according to the superstition.

Of course, that didn’t happen. The boy walks away with a hell of a story and a scar on his shoulder. If anything, this story should be evidence against the unluckiness of the number 13. Otherwise, how did nothing more disastrous happen when so many 13s were gathered in one place?

Superstitions fascinate me, in both their absurdity and their strong hold on our imaginations. So, if anyone has any thoughts on why they are so difficult to break from, or conversely, questions about my math, please comment.

I am in the process of studying for the Foreign Service Officer Test, the first step of many in the process to become a Foreign Service Officer, the State Department workers who staff embassies and “make diplomacy work,” in the State Dept.’s words.

Along with staying up-to-date on current events, studying management, geography, politics, and other test subjects, I’m learning Modern Standard Arabic. The language is spoken in media, government and academic settings, so it’s important to know if you hope to work in the Arabic world, which I do.

To put it simply, it’s not easy. The alphabet is different, there aren’t really any vowels, it’s written from right to left, there are some sounds not found in the English language, and though there are no upper- or lower-case letters, the  letters can take significantly different shapes depending on where they are in a word.

I’ve been trying several different things to learn the language as effectively as I can. I’ve listed the methods I’m using, or hope to use, as well as some that haven’t really worked for me. I hope it’s useful to anyone learning, or contemplating learning, a new language, especially one as different from English as MS Arabic. Enjoy!

Rosetta Stone: I bought the first of three levels of Rosetta Stone, the acclaimed (and pricey) language-learning softwareused by many government and business travelers.

The good: This program deserves at least some
of the praise heaped upon it. It’s fairly intuitive, constantly exposes you to multiple Arabic speakers, and pulls you in through writing and speaking exercises.

The downside: The first level cost about $230.Not a small chunk of change for anyone. Also, you have to stick with it for it to be useful. If you need to know how to say “I need a room for two nights,” you’re better off with a traveler’s guide.

Al Jazeera: I’ve discovered that I can watch the Arabic-language version of Al Jazeera on my iPhone.

The good: Their app is free and easy to use. The video quality is impressive, even on 3G, and buffering hasn’t been an issue. If I’m on the train, waiting in line or sitting at home, I have an accessible way to be exposed not just to Arabs speaking Arabic, but to what matters to Arabic viewers, which is a bonus for my Foreign Service aspirations. This is useful for learning what Arabic sounds like when it’s actually being spoken, not fully enunciated and repeated for a learner’s benefit.

The downside: This is better for finding out how much you know and being exposed to the language than learning new words. It’s difficult for me as a beginner to get more than just the gist of what’s being said. If you’re lost, there’s not much you can do, because the subject has changed once you’ve pulled out the dictionary. Also, it drains the battery on my iPhone pretty quickly.

English-Arabic dictionaries: I have two English-Arabic dictionaries, bought for me as gifts. One is pocket-sized (pictured), and the other is a larger, almost surgically precise book.

The good: These have served as a great companion to Rosetta Stone. Rosetta Stone teaches you as a child would learn, so there is no translation or memorization to speak of. The downside to this is if you haven’t been able to understand the full meaning or context of a word, despite seeing it several times. Here, the dictionaries are great, because they give you the direct translation of a word from English to Arabic and vice versa.

The downside: You won’t become fluent studying a dictionary. And, pronunciation is difficult, if not impossible, to learn just from reading unconnected words.

Word-a-day programs: There are several “Learn Arabic one word at a time” apps available, but I really don’t find them useful. Hence, there’s just a downside for this one.

The downside: Learning one word per day is like reading a dictionary. You get a large vocabulary, but you have no idea how they are connected, what the nuances and differences in grammar are, or even how to put together a simple sentence. Perhaps once I’m more adept, it would be a useful tool to add to my vocabulary, but many of the words are fairly basic.

What I haven’t tried: There are several methods I’d like to add to my learning, but haven’t gotten around to yet.

Tutor: Taking lessons from a native-speaking tutor would probably be the most effective method. I could hear the words as they are actually spoken, ask as many questions as needed, gain insight into nuances and Arabic culture, and possibly have access to other material, like Arabic movies, TV shows, magazines, etc.

Cultural exposure: I would like to find copies of Arabic television shows, especially ones in which something other than Modern Standard is spoken, preferably Cairene, the Egyptian Arabic language and one of the most widely spoken varieties. Since Modern Standard isn’t spoken on the street, it would be really useful to know at least some Cairene Arabic, to be able to get around and explore more when I’m in the Arabic world.

I welcome any advice or suggestions from anyone who is studying or has studied foreign languages. If you have a tip, let me know!

When they did start a few minutes later, I had to think of all the “Twitter (or Facebook, the Internet, cellphones, etc.) is destroying our society” lamenting that perpetuates too much media.

I have no idea how many people were in attendance, but the Landing was fairly packed. Just looking at my group of friends, we put down our phones, and watched. (Disclosure: I did take the admittedly limited accompanying pictures during the show).

We sat there and craned our necks to see something we’ve all seen umpteen times before: black powder-propelled tubes arc into the sky, and explode with a bang and a shower of colorful sparks.

The technology is older than the Gutenberg printing press. The original 3-D display, these shows have drawn thousands of people for as many years to their fleeting spectacle.

This is why columns like this make me roll my eyes. As a group, my friends are about as jaded as the next group of American 20-somethings, which is to say, quite a bit. But we still are mesmerized by deep booms and momentary flashes of light.

What then are we losing as a society by the advance of technology? I don’t feel that my ability to relate to my friends, parents, siblings or acquaintances is hampered at all by Twitter. Or before Facebook. Or before cell phones. Neither for that matter is my ability to be awed by glowing bits of lithium, magnesium and copper (the ingredients that make fireworks red, white or blue, respectively).

We haven’t lost our sense of awe, even at a fairly routine fireworks display. We as a society are still mesmerized by embers of gunpowder glowing in the night.

This doesn’t mean that we don’t have to be careful with technology, or make sure to use it responsibly. But it does mean that social networking and technology isn’t sending us head-first into a dystopia of isolation and hyper-jaded detachment. SMH.