The concert that was worth a million words.

During a generation of teenagers and adolescents who tend to judge you for who you are on the outside than the inside, it’s hard to figure out what's valuable and what's not. Are those $200 Ugg boots valuable? Or is the feeling you get when you land your first back-handspring more valuable? Do we have a right to tell others what is and isn't valuable? Or do we even have the authority to decide for ourselves?

I step out of Laurens house into the soft breeze. Even though its summer I can feel the cool wind on my arms and legs. I skip into her front yard, keeping moving so I can stay warm. Out of the back pocket of my denim shorts I pull my little green camera.

The metal is cool and scratched from having being dropped so many times. And even though it’s been through rough times, my camera still manages to turn on, the light turning green and the LCD monitor flashing on. I raise the camera up to the sky to take a picture of the cloud forms above and the faint click goes off. The image flashes on the screen and I pull the camera close to my face to evaluate the picture I have taken.

People think you need big expensive cameras with huge lenses and millions of functions to be a good photographer. When really, all you need is the drive and a working camera. Sure it would be nice to have a big expensive Cannon or Nikon. But at that moment I am completely content with my lime green $150 Fujifilm.

Lauren and I wander around her yard passing the camera to one another. We search for any scene or piece of nature we find interesting and immediately take a snapshot of it on the camera. We then decide to broaden our expedition to the rest of her neighborhood and soon wander to the nearby woods. The woods lead us into a beautiful field. Our curiosity takes us to new places and my camera comes with us, documenting our journey every part of the way.

Lauren and I sit on top of her parents’ car eating burgers, sipping Snapple and taking goofy MySpace pictures. From our perch we can see everything, from the teens getting arrested for underage drinking to the middle age folks singing along to the old tunes they grew up with. We look longingly at Gillette Stadium which seemed to practically be calling out at us.

Lauren's parents tell us that it’s time to go in. We quickly jump of the car and walk to the stadium. Once inside, we then had the chore of climbing what seemed to be the endless stairway to our seats. After we made it to the top I can see the entire stadium and am in awe at seeing how many people were there. Among our peers Lauren and I are probably the only ones who really appreciated the work of “old musicians” so it was kind of surreal seeing all the fans coming together to see the great show. Lauren and I waste no time trying to find a t-shirt vendor so we can buy some souvenirs. As soon as we are finish purchasing our shirts we hear the sound of a piano playing a familiar tune. We share a look of terror that we're going to miss the opening of the show and race back to our seats with no regards to who we knock down on our way. As soon as we are in view of the stage we share a sigh of relief that Elton John and Billy Joel had just stepped out and we hadn't missed anything. We cheer along with the rest of the stadium as the song finishes and Billy and Elton stand up and hug each other.

The rest of the night is pure bliss. Elton has his turn playing his old tunes and then so does Billy Joel. Lauren and I enjoy every bit of it; from singing along to all the songs we knew to laughing at the wild blonde in the seat next to us who had had a bit too much to drink. We nicknamed her Deborah. The bright blue sky above has turned to darkness and the temperature had dropped since when we first arrived, but we don't notice between our sing-alongs and swaying with "Deborah" to a slow ballad. The finale is the best. The two artists face each other on with two pianos and perform their greatest hits together. I sing along to Bennie and the Jets, my all-time favorite Elton song. The last song played is Piano Man. Lauren and I stand up, sway, and sing along with the rest of the stadium. The sound of the whole arena singing along with the two legendary musicians is the perfect end to a perfect night.

I value both my camera and the concert I attended. My camera lets me cultivate a hobby of mine-photography. Although it isn't the best of its kind, I use it to my best ability and still manage to get some pretty nice pictures. Through my photography I get to express my feelings and talents with all my friends.

I also value the concert I attended. I was very fortunate that Lauren's parents got her concert tickets for her birthday and even purchased an extra ticket so she could bring along a friend. If it wasn't for that happening I might have not ever got to see the concert. I value the concert because it let me see two of my favorite artists live which was a very exciting experience. Being in the same stadium as Elton John one of my idols is something I still can't believe I experienced to this day.

Although my concert night and my camera are different they are also very similar. They both let me enjoy two of my favorite activities- taking pictures and listening to music. They also both let me bond with my good friend Lauren. Along with being a very amateur photographer with me, she is basically my only friend who really appreciates the work of Elton John and Billy Joel.

If you expected me to answer the questions in my introduction I'm sorry to disappoint you. The truth is, I really can't determine what is valuable and what isn't. I don't think anyone can truly say that they have the authority to do so. Maybe life consists of all the really valuable things and all the lesser-valuable things coming together to make up who you are. And maybe instead of trying to judge what’s the most valuable we should just go on living our lives and appreciating everything that happens to us because chances are there probably is some value to it.

First Quarter Outside Reading Book Review

Model by Cheryl Diamond. Simon Pulse, 2008. Genre: Memoir

Model is the true story about Cheryl Diamond’s early life as a model. Cheryl went to New York at sixteen to become a model. Her life consisted of go-sees, runways, and dealing with the characters and attitudes that came with the people in the modeling industry. She had to live on her own and at the tender age of sixteen, grow up and take control of her life.
"A job by job story of a street-savvy young woman navigating New York's cutthroat modeling world." LA Times.
Model shows how Cheryl made good decisions and carried herself with grace in an industry where people will do anything to get booked. She breaks the typical stereotype of the stupid ignorant model, thinking every decision through and coming back with witty comments and comebacks for every situation. She can find humor in every situation which isn’t hard with all the crazy characters and egos that come with being in the modeling industry.
Although she acts with wisdom beyond her years you can still tell that Cheryl is a teenager by the way she writes. The description and vocabulary isn’t especially extensive or over-the-top. You can tell that her real job isn’t being an author. Still, Cheryl grabs the attention of readers with her witty comebacks and her explanations on how New Yorkers and people in the industry all act. Her teen-like way of writing also helps other teen girls relate to her. If the story was told by the point of view of someone older I’m not sure if I would have liked the book as much.
“I stood in the middle of the studio with a stupid grin on my face, amazed that three people-adults, no less-had shown up to take my picture. Then, thinking I should at least try to act cool, I wiped the smile of my face and watched Erica, who was unzipping a large black suitcase. It was filled with every imaginable variety of makeup.” (13)
I would say that I have a love hate relationship with this book. On one hand, the book contains an inside look on the modeling industry diminishing any stereotypes written by a girl who seems fun, smart, and a cool person. On the other hand, the book does fall a bit flat. It is a little misleading, on the back it makes you think that Cheryl was living alone at 14 when really she was living alone at 16. Also, the horrible disastrous thing that happens to Cheryl that ‘end her career’ isn’t really that bad and could have been handled better. So in conclusion, it’s a decent book that could have been better

An unexpected friend.

A Child Called It-David Pelzer
The Absolute True Dairy of a Part-Time Indian- Rowdy
Setting: David Pelzer's school

David could hear the sound of sneakers against the gym floor as he walked out of detention. He heard the buzzer ring signaling the end of the basketball game.
From the hallway David heard the announcer say, “And that ends the game! Home team score 64, a close victory over the visiting students from Wellpinit High with 58! Good game!”
The gym doors opened and the crowd slowly trickled out. The game was supposed to be some sort of big deal, a school from some Indian reservation was coming to play a school that was only used to playing teams from prominently white suburban towns like themselves. But David didn’t have time to think about all of that, he just wanted to leave the school before the kids noticed he was there.
“Hey guys, its Pelzer smellster!” David heard a kid say from behind him.
“Let’s go see what’s up with him!” Another kid said.
David picked up the pace and tried to get away from the bullies.
“Why would he even come to the game...no one likes him!”
“I bet he was in detention again for stealing other kid’s lunches. What a tool!”
“I know, what a loser! Hey Pelzer, slow down, we just wanna talk to you...”
David heard the laughing die out as he ran out of the school from the back entrance. He didn’t know what he was doing, running away from the bullies at school would just get him home faster, where he would have to face an even bigger bully, his own mother. David was so frantic and confused he didn’t notice the kid coming out of the back gym exit and ran right into him. The kids bag fell on the ground and the items inside fell out.
“Sorry,” David mumbled. He looked up at who he ran into and was terrified to see an angry Indian staring back down at him. He had a huge build, but even worse piercing eyes that said sorry just wasn’t going to cut it.
“You need to watch where you’re going kid!” He said. He shoved David, and David ended up on his side on the cement with a tear in his pants. He cringed, not only because the fall hurt, but because these were one of his few pieces of clothing, and his mother would definitely not be willing buy him new ones.
As Rowdy, the Indian, bent over to pick up his belongings he stole a glance at David lying on the ground. He did a double take when he noticed the bruises alongside his leg, now noticeable because of the tear in his pants. He looked at the rest of David. He was very skinny with bruises and scars all along his arms and legs.
From the ground David could see Rowdy looking at him with a dazed look on his face. He quickly got up from the ground and scrambled away from the scene.
“Hey...wait up!” Rowdy called after David. He didn’t know why he was calling after a perfect stranger, but he felt like they still had unfinished business.
“What’s your name?” Rowdy asked firmly.
“David.” David answered meekly.
“Oh...so what happened to you there?” Rowdy asked pointing at a particularly large bruise on David’s arm.
“Oh, accident.” David said quickly. A little too quickly. Rowdy tilted his head.
“Umm...what happened to you?” David asked, redirecting the attention away from him. He motioned toward a series of bruises along Rowdy’s arm and neck.
“Oh...Uh..Same. Accident.” Rowdy said, also quickly.
The two of them stood there, next to the brick wall of the school, staring at each other, just taking each other in. They both knew that none of their injuries were from accidents. They knew that the other person was aware of that. But they didn’t feel like covering it up. Standing there in the cool autumn air, Rowdy and David both knew that even though they seemed different to each other at first, they both were more similar than anyone could imagine. And without saying a word, the two of them made a connection that only someone who was as damaged as they were could make. And they realized that they weren’t alone, that the person standing in front of them could have it just as bad, and maybe even worse, than they did at home.
Rowdy’s basketball coach called him in the gym shortly after that. And David remembered that he better make it home soon before his mother got suspicious. But the two of them never forgot each other, or that day that reminded them they weren't alone.