A Retrospective on Cleveland qua æsthetic
Cleveland is a funny place. Like Wisconsin, it’s significantly greener than Illinois, and I find myself surprisingly aflush at the sight of all the verdure, but Cleveland is like a rusted, hulking monolith overgrown by jungle. The juxtaposition is frightening: while lost, we drove along so many leafy parkways lined with large embellished houses, but our destination was inevitably in the sprawl of the city itself, hemmed together with slummy, apartmented streets and the blackened faux-marble of the botanical gardens, the public library, and the enormous Presbyterian church on Euclid Ave. One building along a main drag called Chester St. appeared to have two dark bronze statues of skeleton warriors, as though someone had stitched together twisted detritus from a plane wreck to make this thanatotic duo, their sharp ribs prominent, their wielded swords even moreso.
It rained all three days we were there, in random spurts of thunderstorms. Cleveland’s drainage—at least downtown—isn’t the best, as even a relatively gentle storm left standing pools of water on the roadsides and muddy ponds in the grassy medians as late as the next morning. I’ve already said that Cleveland is organic, but add near-constant construction and rain to the list, and the city itself is a violent storm of confusion, parkways ceding to slums, trees to effaced apartment complexes, prestigious university to vacant, overgrown gas stations.
I realize that I saw but a fraction of the city, but I would expect that the university-dominated section would be a thriving little community of its own. Perhaps things are different during the school year: I saw few college students at all; only middle-aged conference attendees and the occasional gaggle of misguided tourists—why Cleveland?—gaping at the squalor.
A Retrospective on Ben qua Conference Attendee, as Well as a Discussion of Code
But enough sentiment. My own journey to get here, in a plain grey van, speeding down I-480, was just as mixed. I woke at 7:09 this morning and —my understanding being that only my boss and his boss were going to the presentation at 10:30—went back to bed, to be awoken exactly four hours later at 11:09 by the sound of little kids (?) playing soccer on the athletic field next door. I was alone—all four of my companions had gone to the presentation, had even called for me through the door of my sleeping area, but to no apparent avail. The neck-ache I awoke with1 had nothing on the painful feeling of being such a schlub.
pageload function that reevaluates OS3Grid’s table-rendering function, forcing the grid to be rendered when the page was loaded with AJAX. The only problem is that each grid has a specific line that has to include the name of the parent
div that hosts the rendered table, and since we’re guaranteed to have pages with multiple tables, we can’t simple hard code a standard
id into the function and let it go. I will need to research other methods of forcing the script to run.