Orlando, Florida

Photo: Orlando Skyline

Gotta Love this place. Here are extra reasons to.

Enjoy.

The New York Times
March 26, 2006
Journeys
Orlando for Adults
By CHARLES PASSY

MOST vacationers traveling to Orlando approach the city with blinders firmly in place. After all, this is America's theme-park capital, home to Walt Disney World, Universal Orlando Resort, SeaWorld Orlando and dozens of smaller attractions. You come, usually with your children, for a little face time with Mickey and company.

So, why am I devoting a Saturday evening in the Magic City, as Orlando is often called, shopping for hard-to-find brands of Japanese plum wine? Because it's part of the challenge of spending a weekend in Orlando and staying as far away as possible from anything resembling a roller coaster or a themed restaurant. The goal I have set for myself is to discover a city that is both rich in character and sophisticated in its offerings, from museums to top hotels to ethnic restaurants. A city that without a lot of fanfare invites visitors for a different sort of fun.

In other words, I'm seeking an Orlando for grown-ups.

Make no mistake, I've already seen plenty of the other Orlando on countless trips with my wife and two children, ages 14 and 7. As a Florida resident, I've often joked that while the state doesn't have an income tax, it has a close equivalent in the Disney annual passes that every family seems obligated to purchase. And I'm hardly a snob about theme parks. I consider a ride aboard the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad in Disney's Magic Kingdom one of the greatest thrills known to man.

But during our many family sojourns to Orlando, I began to sense another adventure in the offing. We had gotten a taste of the city's other charms through occasional detours to a flea market, a residential neighborhood or an elegant resort. But the kids always demanded we return to the parks.

The solution? Ditch them on a crisp winter weekend — that is what grandparents were invented for — and see the city as adults.

It wasn't hard to find a place to base ourselves. I had been to the two-year-old Grande Lakes Orlando resort (4040 Central Florida Parkway; www.grandelakes.com) once before on an overnight business trip, and that was more than enough to persuade me to return. The 500-acre property incorporates two hotels: the 584-room Ritz-Carlton Orlando (800-576-5760) and the more corporate-minded 1,000-room JW Marriott Orlando (800-576-5750). They are in a tropically designed setting abundant with upscale amenities, from a Greg Norman golf course to a 40,000-square-foot spa. The resort even has a citrus consultant who is responsible for anything and everything orange- and grapefruit-related.

What's most significant about Grande Lakes, however, is what is missing — any hint that you are near the parks. There are no faux Italian fishing villages or Polynesian-mad décor. It's just unabashed elegance. And if you stay at the more modestly priced JW Marriott, it comes without the, well, ritzy expense. Our $418 weekend package included two nights in a decent-size room (see if you can get one with a view overlooking the golf course), a buffet breakfast each morning at the fine Citron brasserie (we loved the array of smoked salmons) and a free in-room movie and room-service bottle of sparkling wine. Spa services are extra, but the use of the high-end fitness center with flat-screen televisions positioned above nearly every cardio machine is free. Standard rates at the Marriott are $179 to $1,099 a night; at the Ritz-Carlton, $199 to $1,499. We did have to pay for dinner, and it didn't come cheap at Norman's (4012 Central Florida Parkway, 407-393-4333; www.normans.com) on the Ritz-Carlton side of the resort. But if you want to experience a taste of fine Florida dining, this is the way to go. Norman is Norman Van Aken, a James Beard Foundation honoree who established himself with Norman's in Miami. The food at his Orlando outpost, a warmly designed 135-seat space, is very much in the spirit of the Miami restaurant — a New World cuisine that hops from one country to the next, sometimes within the same dish.

Take the roasted pork Havana with 21st-century mole that was one of the highlights of our dinner, a fusion of Cuban and Mexican concepts that proved to be a spicy sensation. Adding to the cross-cultural mix was a side of stone-ground Haitian grits. And save room for dessert, specifically one of Mr. Van Aken's spice creams — ice cream with unusual spices and flavorings. Entrees start at $34. A four-course menu that features Mr. Van Aken's signature dishes runs $80, wine not included.

As tempting as it was to hole up at Grande Lakes our entire weekend, we did have an itinerary. One of the first stops, the Orange County Regional History Center (65 East Central Boulevard, 800-965-2030; www.thehistorycenter.org; $7), was a good introduction to the city. Situated in the heart of downtown about 20 miles from Disney World, the 1927 building itself is a piece of history, the former Orange County Courthouse. But just as important is the story the main exhibition tells of how a modern city came to be in a swampy terrain that has been the home of Indians, land speculators, citrus growers, cattlemen and, today, theme-park visionaries.

Another way to experience this history is to see it firsthand in one of the downtown residential neighborhoods, all of which have had a tremendous resurgence of late and a huge spike in housing prices. We spent a few hours strolling through brick-lined Thornton Park, where even the most simple Florida cracker-style houses have a certain vintage charm. It's a gay- and artist-friendly neighborhood that also has a number of good hangouts. We stopped for a first-rate bloody mary at Dexter's of Thornton Park (808 Washington Street, 407-648-2777; www.dexwine.com), a lively, though perhaps overly noisy, restaurant and bar, where dinner entrees start at around $15. Later, we wandered the aisles at Urban Think (625 East Central Boulevard, 407-650-8004; www.urbanthinkorlando.com), a bookstore and coffee shop whose small size belies its big-city mindset.

Near Thornton Park is the city's definitive landmark: the nearly oval-shaped Lake Eola. It is part peaceful urban retreat, part recreation and social hub. It also is very much tied to the city's history, having been developed as a park in the 19th century when Orlando was experiencing its first boom thanks to the citrus industry. Today, the lake — one of many throughout Orlando — is a popular place for joggers. We settled for a none-too-brisk walk, hoping to save our energy for when we rented one of the lake's swan-shaped paddleboats. But the rental shop was closed, so we pushed on.

THE city's developing art scene is another reason to venture from the theme parks. To be sure, this is no New York or Los Angeles, but the community does have a number of Off Off Broadway-style theaters, an orchestra, an opera company, even an annual cabaret festival. The city's talent pool includes enterprising entertainers who work the theme parks by day to pay the rent.

The largest repository of works on display by the folk artist Earl Cunningham is at the Mennello Museum of American Art (900 East Princeton Street, 407-246-4278; www.mennellomuseum.org; $4), which is where we headed for a quick cultural fix. Cunningham's work may not be for everyone; for all those scholars who see hints of modernist vision in his colorful canvases, others might merely see an amateur spilling paint. But there's no denying that the Mennello's two Cunningham galleries provide a beautifully lighted contemplative setting.

There is an ethnic side to Orlando, too. In the 1970's, the city started attracting large numbers of Vietnamese. They have since created a Little Saigon district in an otherwise drably commercial stretch near downtown. We stopped in for dinner at Pho 88 (730 North Mills Avenue, 407-897-3488), which specializes in — what else? — pho, a beef noodle soup available in any number of variations. But it was the perfectly prepared spring rolls, wrapped in rice paper and stuffed with shrimp, that proved to be the highlight of the meal. Prices were reasonable; dinner for two with beer ranges from $20 to $40.

Before we left the neighborhood, we stumbled on Dong-A-Market (816 North Mills Avenue, 407-898-9227 or 407-898-3807), a pan-Asian supermarket that ended up rivaling the best we had seen in New York and elsewhere. It was all here: dried Chinese-style cuttlefish, Japanese ice cream, rice, teas, you name it. When I came across the selection of at least a half-dozen varieties of imported plum wines, I had to pause to take it in. Surely, this wasn't Orlando.

But it was indeed. Just not the Orlando I had visited so many times before.
###

A Poverty of the Mind

The New York Times
March 26, 2006
Op-Ed Contributor
A Poverty of the Mind
By ORLANDO PATTERSON

Cambridge, Mass.

SEVERAL recent studies have garnered wide attention for reconfirming the tragic disconnection of millions of black youths from the American mainstream. But they also highlighted another crisis: the failure of social scientists to adequately explain the problem, and their inability to come up with any effective strategy to deal with it.

The main cause for this shortcoming is a deep-seated dogma that has prevailed in social science and policy circles since the mid-1960's: the rejection of any explanation that invokes a group's cultural attributes — its distinctive attitudes, values and predispositions, and the resulting behavior of its members — and the relentless preference for relying on structural factors like low incomes, joblessness, poor schools and bad housing.

Harry Holzer, an economist at Georgetown University and a co-author of one of the recent studies, typifies this attitude. Joblessness, he feels, is due to largely weak schooling, a lack of reading and math skills at a time when such skills are increasingly required even for blue-collar jobs, and the poverty of black neighborhoods. Unable to find jobs, he claims, black males turn to illegal activities, especially the drug trade and chronic drug use, and often end up in prison. He also criticizes the practice of withholding child-support payments from the wages of absentee fathers who do find jobs, telling The Times that to these men, such levies "amount to a tax on earnings."

His conclusions are shared by scholars like Ronald B. Mincy of Columbia, the author of a study called "Black Males Left Behind," and Gary Orfield of Harvard, who asserts that America is "pumping out boys with no honest alternative."

This is all standard explanatory fare. And, as usual, it fails to answer the important questions. Why are young black men doing so poorly in school that they lack basic literacy and math skills? These scholars must know that countless studies by educational experts, going all the way back to the landmark report by James Coleman of Johns Hopkins University in 1966, have found that poor schools, per se, do not explain why after 10 years of education a young man remains illiterate.

Nor have studies explained why, if someone cannot get a job, he turns to crime and drug abuse. One does not imply the other. Joblessness is rampant in Latin America and India, but the mass of the populations does not turn to crime.

And why do so many young unemployed black men have children — several of them — which they have no resources or intention to support? And why, finally, do they murder each other at nine times the rate of white youths?

What's most interesting about the recent spate of studies is that analysts seem at last to be recognizing what has long been obvious to anyone who takes culture seriously: socioeconomic factors are of limited explanatory power. Thus it's doubly depressing that the conclusions they draw and the prescriptions they recommend remain mired in traditional socioeconomic thinking.

What has happened, I think, is that the economic boom years of the 90's and one of the most successful policy initiatives in memory — welfare reform — have made it impossible to ignore the effects of culture. The Clinton administration achieved exactly what policy analysts had long said would pull black men out of their torpor: the economy grew at a rapid pace, providing millions of new jobs at all levels. Yet the jobless black youths simply did not turn up to take them. Instead, the opportunity was seized in large part by immigrants — including many blacks — mainly from Latin America and the Caribbean.

One oft-repeated excuse for the failure of black Americans to take these jobs — that they did not offer a living wage — turned out to be irrelevant. The sociologist Roger Waldinger of the University of California at Los Angeles, for example, has shown that in New York such jobs offered an opportunity to the chronically unemployed to join the market and to acquire basic work skills that they later transferred to better jobs, but that the takers were predominantly immigrants.

Why have academics been so allergic to cultural explanations? Until the recent rise of behavioral economics, most economists have simply not taken non-market forces seriously. But what about the sociologists and other social scientists who ought to have known better? Three gross misconceptions about culture explain the neglect.

First is the pervasive idea that cultural explanations inherently blame the victim; that they focus on internal behavioral factors and, as such, hold people responsible for their poverty, rather than putting the onus on their deprived environment. (It hasn't helped that many conservatives do actually put forth this view.)

But this argument is utterly bogus. To hold someone responsible for his behavior is not to exclude any recognition of the environmental factors that may have induced the problematic behavior in the first place. Many victims of child abuse end up behaving in self-destructive ways; to point out the link between their behavior and the destructive acts is in no way to deny the causal role of their earlier victimization and the need to address it.

Likewise, a cultural explanation of black male self-destructiveness addresses not simply the immediate connection between their attitudes and behavior and the undesired outcomes, but explores the origins and changing nature of these attitudes, perhaps over generations, in their brutalized past. It is impossible to understand the predatory sexuality and irresponsible fathering behavior of young black men without going back deep into their collective past.

Second, it is often assumed that cultural explanations are wholly deterministic, leaving no room for human agency. This, too, is nonsense. Modern students of culture have long shown that while it partly determines behavior, it also enables people to change behavior. People use their culture as a frame for understanding their world, and as a resource to do much of what they want. The same cultural patterns can frame different kinds of behavior, and by failing to explore culture at any depth, analysts miss a great opportunity to re-frame attitudes in a way that encourages desirable behavior and outcomes.

Third, it is often assumed that cultural patterns cannot change — the old "cake of custom" saw. This too is nonsense. Indeed, cultural patterns are often easier to change than the economic factors favored by policy analysts, and American history offers numerous examples.

My favorite is Jim Crow, that deeply entrenched set of cultural and institutional practices built up over four centuries of racist domination and exclusion of blacks by whites in the South. Nothing could have been more cultural than that. And yet America was able to dismantle the entire system within a single generation, so much so that today blacks are now making a historic migratory shift back to the South, which they find more congenial than the North. (At the same time, economic inequality, which the policy analysts love to discuss, has hardened in the South, like the rest of America.)

So what are some of the cultural factors that explain the sorry state of young black men? They aren't always obvious. Sociological investigation has found, in fact, that one popular explanation — that black children who do well are derided by fellow blacks for "acting white" — turns out to be largely false, except for those attending a minority of mixed-race schools.

An anecdote helps explain why: Several years ago, one of my students went back to her high school to find out why it was that almost all the black girls graduated and went to college whereas nearly all the black boys either failed to graduate or did not go on to college. Distressingly, she found that all the black boys knew the consequences of not graduating and going on to college ("We're not stupid!" they told her indignantly).

SO why were they flunking out? Their candid answer was that what sociologists call the "cool-pose culture" of young black men was simply too gratifying to give up. For these young men, it was almost like a drug, hanging out on the street after school, shopping and dressing sharply, sexual conquests, party drugs, hip-hop music and culture, the fact that almost all the superstar athletes and a great many of the nation's best entertainers were black.

Not only was living this subculture immensely fulfilling, the boys said, it also brought them a great deal of respect from white youths. This also explains the otherwise puzzling finding by social psychologists that young black men and women tend to have the highest levels of self-esteem of all ethnic groups, and that their self-image is independent of how badly they were doing in school.

I call this the Dionysian trap for young black men. The important thing to note about the subculture that ensnares them is that it is not disconnected from the mainstream culture. To the contrary, it has powerful support from some of America's largest corporations. Hip-hop, professional basketball and homeboy fashions are as American as cherry pie. Young white Americans are very much into these things, but selectively; they know when it is time to turn off Fifty Cent and get out the SAT prep book.

For young black men, however, that culture is all there is — or so they think. Sadly, their complete engagement in this part of the American cultural mainstream, which they created and which feeds their pride and self-respect, is a major factor in their disconnection from the socioeconomic mainstream.

Of course, such attitudes explain only a part of the problem. In academia, we need a new, multidisciplinary approach toward understanding what makes young black men behave so self-destructively. Collecting transcripts of their views and rationalizations is a useful first step, but won't help nearly as much as the recent rash of scholars with tape-recorders seem to think. Getting the facts straight is important, but for decades we have been overwhelmed with statistics on black youths, and running more statistical regressions is beginning to approach the point of diminishing returns to knowledge.

The tragedy unfolding in our inner cities is a time-slice of a deep historical process that runs far back through the cataracts and deluge of our racist past. Most black Americans have by now, miraculously, escaped its consequences. The disconnected fifth languishing in the ghettos is the remains. Too much is at stake for us to fail to understand the plight of these young men. For them, and for the rest of us.

Orlando Patterson, a professor of sociology at Harvard, is the author of "Rituals of Blood: Consequences of Slavery in Two American Centuries."
###

Joe Paris Back on Louisiana TV

After an absence of more than 30 years, one-time local anchor Joe Paris (hat) prepares for his award-winning talk show as Ed Bowie directs set hands. Bowie and Paris go back many years together when Paris worked with local ABC and CBS affiliates in the area.

Bowie, AOC seem a perfect fit

Channel’s chief brings range of experience to job

By RUTH FOOTE
Special to The Advocate
Published: Mar 13, 2006

LAFAYETTE — It was as if Acadiana Open Channel had been waiting for Ed Bowie to become its executive director in the late 1990s.

Waiting for a long time.

Not patiently though.

But waiting.

At the time he took over the public access television station in 1998, Bowie was owner of a marketing business that focused on nonprofits. Before then, he had served in marketing positions at the Cajundome and Goodwill Industries of Acadiana.

For 10 years prior, he owned a commercial photography business. Go back for eight years before that, and he co-owned the Camera Center in Lafayette.

There was the two-year stint at the Orleans Parish District Attorney’s Office in the 1970s for the New Orleans native, whose first name is Benjamin but who’s known as Ed.

There was also the business administration degree from the University of Southwestern Louisiana, now known as the University of Louisiana at Lafayette.

And in between the four years it took to earn his degree, there was that one year, plus seven days and 18 hours, in Vietnam that helped to hone his cynicism.

Through most of it, Acadiana Open Channel, known also as AOC, seemed to have been waiting — albeit impatiently — for his arrival.

Today at 56, Bowie reflects on nearly a decade of change from the dysfunctional world that greeted him when he came aboard AOC’s move into the digital age, and predicts in the next five years, “TV — as we know it — will be a thing of the past.”

And, according to Bowie, that means AOC in particular, and communications in general.

That’s why even though technology has leveled the playing field, Bowie warns that its future impact may be devastating for many if they’re not prepared. He likens it to the illiteracy of days gone by.

“If you can’t function in the new society, it will be the equivalent of not being able to read or write in 1960,” Bowie says.

Forty years ago, he says that illiteracy meant not being able to function in the society of that day, not being able to complete tasks such as grocery shopping or voting.

“You had no influence over the things that influenced you,” he says.

According to Bowie, such may become the case again in the digital age when rapidly changing technology leaves some of the public behind, and illiteracy means being unable to complete job applications or access bank statements because they are only computerized.

And as the technology world becomes more and more complex, Bowie says, “You’re going to have to be smarter at digesting it.”
Bowie plans to do something about this. His goal is for AOC to serve as the community’s “water taker” when it comes to the digital age; in other words, if people can’t come to the well to get the water, then AOC will take the water to them.

And in this case, the water is knowledge.

“We want to be able to bring them in, educate them, enlighten them, give them the tools,” he says. By year’s end, Bowie wants to offer community workshops that do just that.

Until then, he’s hoping that more people take advantage of the services that AOC offers now: free public-access television, and the training, equipment and structure to make it reality at 124 E. Main St.

Currently, AOC, which began in 1981, provides more than 170 hours of programming, which includes 47 regularly scheduled shows.

Its Channel 5 provides public programming, and Channel 19 offers government and education programming, as well as any spillage from Channel 5.

Twice a year, in a lottery-style atmosphere, those with scheduled shows draw time slots for themselves.

If the demand is there, Bowie says it’s possible to obtain another cable channel for AOC.

Today, Bowie estimates that about 50 percent of AOC’s programming is digital, meaning it was created using mini DV (digital video) cameras.

While the analog video cameras are still available for usage, Bowie notes that the two days it takes to learn how to use them are cut down to only an hour when it comes to learning how to use the mini DV cameras.

The digital age has also meant that the public can compose their programs on their computers at home and bring in a disc. But Bowie and staff are available to provide hands-on experience if needed.

“He’s real concerned and involved with the people, the media and the community as a whole,” production assistant Bill Brosius says of his boss.

According to Brosius, Bowie does whatever it takes, whether it means spending two hours with a group to give them pointers to make their show better, or trying to get more support for AOC to grow to meet the challenges ahead.

“If we had the funding to do the things we want to do, we’d be great,” Brosius says.

Administrative assistant Deborah Duhon agrees that Bowie makes a difference.

“He goes by the 100 rule — whatever he does for one, he has to be willing to do for another 100 people. Everybody is treated the same by him,” she says.

Duhon admits that it’s hard to decide Bowie’s biggest contribution.

“He does so much. You haven’t seen someone work so long and so hard at a job,” she says. “But I guess his knowledge — what access television is suppose to be, and his strong constitution for the First Amendment.”

Bowie, himself, is thoughtful when asked.

“I’d like to say taking it to the next level,” he says.

And while there is no doubt that he has brought AOC to new heights, he’s certain “keeping it afloat” takes precedent, especially when he says there were “aggressive attempts” to do away with the local public access television.

Aside from Atlanta and Knoxville, Bowie says that Lafayette has one of the few public access television stations in the South that offers so much to its community, and that’s what helps to make AOC unique.

Go back to 1998, and it is a far cry from today, especially after Bowie finally succumbed to the one too many comments, one too many suggestions, coming from one too many people, from one too many different walks of life — yet all noting that “AOC is looking for you. You are the perfect person to go to AOC. ... Why don’t you apply to AOC?”

Finally Bowie decided that maybe he better pay attention; maybe God was trying to tell him something.

It was almost like AOC was waiting for him to take over, set things straight It was almost like his years of experience in marketing and business would help to pave the way.

But it was a dysfunctional world that greeted him at AOC, one that he says lacked leadership when he arrived.

There was also the lingering stigma of a defunct Ku Klux Klan program that had aired on AOC. It was like the dog was gone, he recalls, but he had stepped into what the dog left behind.

And all these were compounded by party politics, community politics, staff politics, and outdated equipment that kept breaking down.

There was also the battle between what was legal and what was not.

“It’s been a very enlightening experience,” Bowie says today.

And of course, there has always been the attack on freedom of speech.

“I always was a big believer in the First Amendment, but didn’t know how much I would be tested,” Bowie says.

When members of the public complained about programs, Bowie says that the comments were always the same, “I believe in the First Amendment but...”

It’s that “but,” according to Bowie, that spoke volumes.

Everyone was always quick to tell him that “those people” shouldn’t be allowed to say this, and “those people” shouldn’t be allowed to say that. And, according to Bowie, “those people” include everybody “but” the ones making the complaints.

As a result, he notes that over the years, “those people” have included Baptists and Catholics, black people and white people, the south side of town and the north side of town.

And then some.

Yet Bowie notes, each side maintained the right to free speech — except — when it came to “those people.”

Bowie admits he was naive in the beginning, not realizing the lengths people would go to get their way.

But today as back then, Bowie offers this advice if people don’t like something on AOC: come on in and do their own program.

After all, that’s what AOC is about.

“It is the community,” says Bowie.






Find this article at:
http://www.2theadvocate.com/news/2451187.html

Click Here to Print
SAVE THIS | EMAIL THIS | Close
Check the box to include the list of links referenced in the article.


Copyright © 1992-2006, 2theadvocate.com, WBRZ, Louisiana Broadcasting LLC and The Advocate, Capital City Press LLC, All Rights Reserved.