Thursday, October 20, 2011

She Has a Degree in Art and Only a Job to Show for it


I have no idea what she did, but it required two of New York's smiling Finest to take the second born Evil Twin in for "questioning".

"I've found this camp to be a blessed site,"  saith the protester in Occupytopia. The squatters camp is right across the street from the Pennsylvania College of Art and Design and adjacent to the Lancaster City Police Department. It's got to be tough sitting on land next to a police state. As far as Anti-Zionist Illegal Occupations go, this is pretty tame.  There's only one timid drum beating at this riot.

Lancaster, Pretzelvania is not known for its financial district: two banks sitting kitty corner from each other on King and Queen streets, converging at Penn Square. Traffic lights force drivers to stop and look at The Very Big War Monument.

The Very Big War Monument.

We are just 45 minutes west of Philadelphia, but the cultural differences between our two cities is noticeable. We don't do the shabby sit-in very well. If Friendly's goes the way of Borders Books, all heck could break loose, and then it's "Aw, Shucks!" all over again.

It isn't as though our local schools and universities aren't trying to turn out disgruntled degreed malcontents. I have often lamented that the only thing art school offered them was a way to protest in various media.  But color me not-so-surprised when my twins  didn't join with the lemmings to protest. 

Many of their classes left them undereducated and mostly indoctrinated by the hate-filled political blather of their professors. (Hint: If your kid is tired of hearing the prof blame Bush all the time, he can silence the teacher by saying loudly, "Bush is responsible!" after every trivial disappointment in class. Break your pencil? Loudly blame Bush. Stub your toe? It's Bush's fault. Failed a test? Bushhitler. Went to party rather than do your homework like a good Asian? Fuckin' BushCheneyHalliburton! It cured the prof from even wanting to say his name again.)

Perhaps they learned not to complain because I never gave them an allowance. Our lack of means wouldn't allow for allowances. I forced them to get a job at 13, hauling newspapers and babysitting, not getting a plug nickel from me or the man. Julia's first taste of tax-induced rage came when she was 16, while mentally spending the first check of the new year, only to receive it, weeping. Lancaster City had taken everything for the new 'Occupational Privilege Tax'. Her already small check had left her with a dollar and some change. The new, local occupational privilege tax took 52 dollars for the new year. That with all the other taxes taken out, she was slammed pretty hard.  Thank you, Big Government.

Even though she was angry, it is a far cry from the incoherent anger feigned by the OWS trust fund brats malingering in the ivy covered halls of Wastrel U.

At least the art students/protesters are putting their crayons to good use. Both my twins are employed art school grads. Times are very tough for them, but they would never dream of protesting their school debt. That's because it's understood: "I chose to go to art school. I chose to major in illustration. I chose an animation degree."

Believe it or not, thanks in large part to the internet, an enterprising art school grad can find work in a small city far removed from Hollywood or Toronto.  Julia hopes to ply her trade in Canada, the new Mecca for animators, but she's putting her vocal skills to good use and getting paid for it. Click the link and give her a listen.  Not bad for a first time paying voiceover job. All told, her jobs as graphics designer, artist model and voiceover artist add up to eating at mom's house only once or twice a week and being broke all the time.

Welcome to the real world, kiddo.

"I laugh at your bitternesses, dreadlocked hipsters. Look at my hair! It's touchably soft."

Forgive me for kvelling yet again. It's what I do.