1996_12 Insight December 1996

              DECEMBER 11. 1996 ■
^ ^     —      .
Go ahead, do the Macarena - but don't expect it to last any
longer than the Twist, Mashed Potato, Smurf or Lambada
■ Tren Dee thought to
be creator of the
Macarena
by Manny Fernandez
Staff Writer
I've been doing thc Macarena all
week.
Now don't get me wrong. I'm by
no means an expert at the salsa-hoi
dance craze. The complicated ebb-
and-flow of the moves, the subtle
swaying of the hips, the textured
snap-and-clap method — this is what
makes the dance a lasting phenom-
But I've been practicing.
My favorite version — of course.
all 786 are my favorite — is the
techno house/country metal remix.
Z127 FM plays it 24 hours a day the
first week in January. The remix is a
nice blend of post-modemistic industrial techno with the angst and exis
tential bliss of really good heavy
metal.
The coolest guy f know
My friend Tren Dec taught me everything 1 know about the Macarena.
He's so cool. Some of his co-workers at the Chevron station he works at
say he invented the Cabbage Patch in
1985.
Others say he was wearing sweaters around his neck in lhe spring of
'81. long before it became the fashion/status symbol that it is today.    ■*
He had an unsightly pimple on his
neck that was a social-disaster- in-lhe-
making. One yellow knit sweater was
all he needed to cover it up and start a
legendary trend in the meantime.
Tren was doing the Macarena before the Macarena was cool.
1 have pictures to prove it. too.
Snapshots of Tren in biker bars in the
South, doing the Macarena to AC/
DCs "Back in Black."
Of course, he was way ahead of his
time back then. Thcbikcrs just didn't
understand. I also have some Polaroid
shots of Tren doing the Macarena by
himself in the basement of his
Kingsburg apartment.
You can sec thc sweat pouring
down his face from his three-hour
dance marathon, just like the woman
in lhat scene in "Flashdance."
Tren says the invention of the
Macarena had humble beginnings.
"I've been a student of break-dancing for more than 15 years. It's been
... well, a pan of my life." Tren said
to me recently as we sipped from our
Zimas at one of those All-American-
themed restaurants in Clovis.
"Well, one day in 19861 was doing
some training drills at lhat one heavy
metal club thai-used to be at the corner of Ashlan and Shaw avenues.
The guys there, they all had on
those muscle T-shirts lhat horribly
accentuated their beer bellies. This
one guy. I remember his shirt said. T
hale you." walked over and told me
that Led Zeppelin wasn't break-dancing music.
"Can you imagine? As if the art
form couldn't be deconstructed and
applied to various musical genres. I
told him lhat, that... well, I got really mad and said he was so hour-
Contributing to society
"Well, anyway, 37 stitches later,
there 1 was in the hospital room, bored
silly. I wanted to dance, but my legs
were in braces, my neck was sore.
"Bui 1 stood up anyway and started
break-dancing. I then realized — it
gives me the chills when I talk about
it now — that I could dance in one
spot, just by moving my hips and
arms," hc said, wiping tears from his
eyes with the sun-bright yellow
sweater wrapped around his neck.
And there you have it. The creation
of one of popular culture's timeless
socio-political movements, the
Macarena.
To Tren, the dance is all that n
Not jut a dance, a world view
He designed his own Macarena T-
shirts. One is really catchy. It has a
heart on it, and below that it says.
"Macarena." Another says: "I
Macarena. therefore I am."
Hc also teaches classes in the
dance's various adaptations at a local
community college.
"It's not just a dance craze, it's a
world view." Tren told me one day.
"The Macarena is to America whal
Journey is to Hanford."
I'm just learning about the
Macarena. though.
I started a couple of months ago.
Tren took me to the Rising Sun club.
It used to be called thc Setting Sun.
but the owners changed the name, put
in some new neon and gave the club
a new "spin." Clever.
So there I 4m, standing among my
fellow Macarcnians. doing the dance
of life, and wc are one. As Tren shows
me his technique, as I'm watching
him do what he does best, a strange
thought occurs to me.
I start thinking about the Lambada
and the-Cabbage Patch and the Smurf.
I start thinking that maybe, just
maybe, for every Macarena there is a
Boot-Scootin' Boogie.
For every Boot-Scootin' Boogie,
there's an Abba. And for every Abba,
there is a Fabio.
Wasted time and energy
I start thinking about how much
time wc waste on the faddish present,
or how much time we spend making
sure we are not left out of the cool
loop. Why was the Rubik's Cube
such an important part of the national
scene? Why was Tonya Harding so
fascinating?
But the thoughts are fleeting.
1 shrug and watch Tren perform Ihe
intricate arm maneuvers, savoring the
present-tense.
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What you see isn't what you get when dyslexia
intrudes between one's brain and one's eyes
■ A learning disability
can affect an entire
education
by Valerie Gibbons
Staff Writer
"So you're dyslexic, huh?"
The professor pauses and looks at
me carefully, as if there are some external clues to my credibility.
I smile. He does not.
"I have had a lot of studenls come
in here and tell me that." he says, leafing through the pile of Scan-trons on
his desk.
"I don't really take much slock in
that excuse myself."
My professional demeanor is beginning to dissappear. My eyes find
solace in the winter scene outside of
thc window as I attempt to regain my
composure.
/ don V really take much slock in the
excuse that you 're a presumptuous
fool, so I guess thai makes us even.
I smile and lean forward.
In my best hcy-I'm-noi-trying-to-
be-confrontational-hcre voice. I continue. "All I am saying is lhat I don't
do particularly well on Scan-tron exams."
1 try again.
"I know the material."
He is not going to budge.
"And if there is another way for me
to prove that to you..."
He just stares at me. The professionalism is definitely leaving my
voice now.
"...I guess that wouldn't really be
fair, would it?*'
The professor turns his attention
back to his pile of Scan-trons.
That's a good question
"So. if you're dyslexic..." he begins,
"then what exactly do you see?"
If I knew the answer lo that question. I woutdn i be dyslexic, now
would /.'
I measure my response carefully
"Well. sir. that's a difficult question."
And it has always been a difficult
question, lor vears. I have tried lo
explain the chasm that exists between
my I.Q. and my grade point average.
This was a serious bone of contention when 1 was growing up, and a
mailer of unending frustration for my
The hole in my brain
1 have always referred U
. "The
hole
> hi.ii
Whal happened to the first three
decimal places? It fell through the
hole in my brain. Why did you miss
question "H" on this form? It fell
through lhe hole in my brain.
In the '70s and '80s. most educators didn'l recognize dyslexia unless
it was particularly severe.
My parents and teuchers labeled
me a "discipline problem" instead.
In the ihird grade, my teacher accused me of asking too many questions during lhe malh hour. Halfway
through the year, she banned me from
"Math Time" and insisted that I move
my desk into the cloak room for the
hour.
It's really hard to follow a long division lesson from the cloak room.
Particularly, when you are in the
third grade. When my grades came
out, I look my parents' lecture and
didn't say anything.
tf you would only try harder
For years, my report card comments would come back, "needs to
learn to be more careful"; "...doesn't
try to leam the material."
My siep-father would spend hours
tutoring me.
He wouldn't end the session until I
had a firm grasp on thc day's lesson.
The next day. he would try to review
the previous day's material and I
would, without fail, draw a blank. Hc
would be forced to start again at step
one. My parents eventually decided
it would be easier for everyone involved if ihey paid an outside tutor to
go through the frustration.
I was in Ihe sixth grade by then,
and 1 believe it was the prospect of
leaching me percentages for the third
time that pushed my parents over the
edge.
So it was in a cubicle in an Oakland office building that my education with the "professionals" began.
My tutor. Dave, would sit mc down
ai a desk and tell me to do my homework. Every once in a while he
would correct my homework, tell me
to be more careful and then leave
again.
At the end of lhe year. Dave suggested I be senl back to elementary
school for an hour in the seventh
grade.
My parents didn't take Dave's advice, saving themselves thousands of
dollars in therapy bills down the line.
High school came and percentages
still hadn't been mastered. For most
of the day. I would go to advanced
Opinion
placement classes in english and history and then take the trip down thc
hall to my annual offering of elementary algebra with the freshmen.
I got into the habit of lying to
people about what math class I was
jlaking, just so, they. wouldn'Utry. to _
social work me, oral worst, tutor mc
in my classes.
Finally, a possible explanation
In junior college, while being faced
with thc prospect of my sixth failure
in elementary algebra. I decided to
get myself tested for dyslexia.
1 was 23.
Thc test itself was pretty basic.
When I picked up the math portion
and I saw the problems, my heart took
its customary leap into my throat.
But after a moment I slowly realized something, I was allowed to fail
this test.
When the test came back, I was
elated to find out I was dyslexic.
Finally, I could prove that 1 really
was trying to "be careful" and I wasn't
a discipline problem.
There was a reason why these
things happened to me. 1 couldn't wait
to tell someone.
Two weeks later, I got my chance.
Elementary algebra again. I was even
looking at the slightest possibility for
a"C."
I went in to ask my instructor to
forward my next test to the Disabled
Student Services office, so I could
lake time and a half for ihe exam.
My new right as a person with a
hole in their brain. He disagreed.
Unwilling to understand
"You know, this disabled crap is ri
diculous. All you people do is sit
around and whine about your disability, when you and I both know that
any idiot could do this if they just
tried," he said.
"The other students don't get time
and a half, but Iguess 1 have to give it
to you."
I started to shake.
For some reason, all of the memories of hiding my report cards,
screaming matches with my parents
and watching my friends go off to
college came flooding back to me.
I was standing in the office of a man
that I hated, shaking and crying, and
there wasn't a damn thing I could do
about it.
The only thing I could bring myself to say to him was "Are you out of
your mind? Don't you think I would
do well in this if I could?"
But my outburst didn't change that
math professor's mind, or the half a
dozen of his collegucs who believe
that dyslexia is nothing more than a
passing fad.
He just isn't getting it
And the professor sitting in front
of me. leafing through Scan-trons
wouldn't be any different.
My professional demeanor has returned.
I stop short of explaining the disconnected neurons that scientists believe causes dyslexia.
Just a few more people like this to
go. it's almost graduation.
I stop trying.
Someday, he will know the work
and lhe determination it took for me
to get here.
Not today, but someday.
A way of life based on the law of a higher power
by Robbie Miner
Staff Writer
A wise man once said that there
were two interpretations of success.
On one hand, you have success
which is defined by society. This success is characterized by money, fame,
and marital and occupational status.
Then there is success defined by
God's word, also referred lo as significance.
Too often in society, success and
significance are carelessly intertwined
into the same definition.
In reality, success and significance
are as different as night and day.
Webster's New International Dictionary defines significance as the
quality of being important. Success is
defined as the degree or measure of
attaining one's desired end.
One could interpret either definition
as success in both God's eyes and the
eyes of society as a whole. It's the society that surrounds us which has perverted the two definitions. It's
important to make the distinction because the contrasting motives of thc
two definitions are so extreme.
Success ratings invalid
Christians, Catholics. Mormons.
Jews, Muslims and Atheists alike contribute to the misleading notion of
success.
Our media outlets have convinced
us that we need certain produces to
be happy^|hus popular, thus successful.
Our job opportunities and the media have established an unwritten
ranking system rating jobs in order of
success, usually relating to monetary
worth. Every source imaginable has
hegemonized the belief that happiness, thus success, is heavily weighed
upon Ihe number of friends you have
and the physical and intellectual
beauty of one's spouse and children.
. To get a rough idea of where you
rank in terms of success and significance, place yourself in a scenario
where you are ii graduating senior.
You have been offered five jobs, all
wilh different perks and different
negative aspects attached.
If money and location and fame are
the only factors you consider important, chances are you arc searching for
success.
Does the thought of how it might
effect God's plan for you play in the
equation? Has it ever occurred to you
that God has a plan for you?
A higher power Is recognized
The United States takes pride in its
claim as Land of Opportunity. In this
country you can study any religion
freely and worship any God you
please without persecution.
While all religions have different
theories of a higher power, they all
have one common thread. Individuals of all religions believe that they
have been created by that higher
power.
Love is the basis of religion
Put that concept into perspective.
Most people believe that they have
been created by a higher power but
yet they refer to that higher power as
casually as your average Joe.
Everyone has a different relationship with their Father in Heaven but
all should be centered around one
basic concept.
God's greatest commandment of all
is to love one another.
All religions are based on love, not
just Christianity. And the love which
is referred to is not conditional love,
but unconditional, reckless, crazy,
unlimited, ruthless love.
As brothers and sisters of the
same creator we should embrace everyone as if they were our earthly
parents' children.
That is everyone.
Not just your friends but your enemies. If someone spits in your face,
say you forgive them and walk
away.
If they beat you up and steal your
money, pick yourself up and walk
away free of anger and attack the
next person you see withjove.
There is not one personalive that
can say they've never felt anger,
hatred and fear toward others.
We are foolish to believe that we
don't fall short of God's perfection.
But we can strive for perfection.
We can think of all that's great in
life. We can sympathize with others. We can try to grow stronger day-
by-day, fighting hatred with love.
Fighting success with significance.