City magazine spring 2013 by LBCC Viking News

Magazine

CITY Spring 2013

Long Beach City College: The Dark Side Selling Safe Sex: A Family Tradition Graffiti: It’sNot Vandalism, It’s Art.

Editor-In-Chief

Tonia Ciancanelli

Managing Editor

Jesus Hernandez Peter Clark

Lead Fact Checker Bryan Arreguin

Assistant Fact Checker Barry Saks

Assistant Copy Editor Tech Support Katie Cortez

Art Director

Jessica Sanchez

Assistant Art Directors

Jonah Coloma Chelsea Reyes Bryan White

Production Manager

Carmen Serrano

Photograph Retoucher

Krishna Patel

Cover Design

Jessica Sanchez

Logo Designer Yeini Navarro Advisers Morgan Barnard Cindy Frye Jeff Smeding

Copy Editors Bryan Arreguin Daniel Brown Julia Castro Tonia Ciancanelli Peter Clark Katie Cortez Jade Fox Shanae Hughes Arnold James Ramon Lontok Marcy Lopez George McGinest Andrea Merkley Henry Ramos Gladis Rivera Barry Saks

Photographers Pierre Brehier Shelby Dereszynski Katelyn Gale Tanielle Gilbert Araceli Gutierrez Daniel Holmes David Kwock Denise Manjarrez Carter Marriott Nicholas Noell Joshua Pimienta Whitney Proctor Trevor Robertson Jose Rosales Gian Torres Jasper Trias Candice Matthiensen

bunmi

Photo Editors Daniel Flores Joshua Pimienta

Printing services provide by

Letter From The Editors Welcome to City Magazine. I want to start off by thanking and all of our dedicated writers, photographers and graphic designers who made it possible for our readers to enjoy our 2013 issue. I especially want to thank our editors who are unexpectedly, yet exceptionally good looking in the darkened editing room. I also want to thank Bryan for being extra tall and turning on the projector every day, Peter for his booming voice as he read, line-byline, in every class that he actually showed up for, Ramon and Annie for always having their AP Style Guide, Bunny of Love for her fumbling tech support, and Gladis and Daniel for allowing us to make them our live entertainment. This publication celebrates the diverse interests of Long Beach City College students. The articles vary from sneaker collecting to a family-run sex shop, and “legal” graffiti to camping on Jalama Beach. We have strived to make this an edgy yet well-rounded publication. This student-produced magazine is crafted over two semesters, in two different departments, by four different classes. Those classes included in the Journalism program are the writers and editors, and in the Art Department the photographers and the graphic artists. The magazine has been around since 1979, and has morphed, reflecting our constantly changing demographic. So, it would behoove our adviser, Cindy, to stick around for another 34 successful publications! Peace and love, Tonia Ciancanelli, Editor-in-Chief

rld

o W

lT e av Tr

d Un

y av

m la

u ult

e gl

ru St

: er

y ne

Fin

ins

rig

r te

t tS

ty rif

d ea

4 10 Piss Threa de 6 t y i t 2 f S 1 Thri en rk a m D ss a 8 e s r 14 Kick and Th , Its Ha amily f ng 10 CC i 8 A t B 1 L ot Flir Sex: 0 fe N a s 2 It ing S n 12 u Yo

et P f

f ds

T or

3 ‘1

Andrea Merkley

Designers Yessika Aguirre Jose Carcedo Jonah Coloma Joshua Oceguera Carmen Serrano William Avery Russell Mims Yeini Navarro Amando Palacios Krishna Patel Chelsea Reyes Jessica Sanchez John Sese Aaron Trost Bryan White Emmanuel Ode-

G N RI SP

Lead Copy Editor

Writers Bryan Arreguin Michelle Bond Daniel Brown Julia Castro Tonia Ciancanelli Brian Combs Katie Cortez Samwell Favela Jade Fox Jesus Hernandez Arnold James Sierra Jennings Joey King Andrea Merkley Damon Moore II Isley Munguia Peter Clark Paola Pinon Karen Ramirez Gladis Rivera Rebecca Urrutia

e Th

a he

CON TENTS

e rH

ell

io u S adit Yo r T g ttin

Pu e Lin

ffi ra

lth

Travel the World on the Cheap Story by Annie Merkley

Photography by Pierre Brehier

Volunteering opens doors to new cultural experiences ou don’t have to be rich to see the world. You just need a passport, a plane ticket, some spending cash and the will to work. Help Exchange is an inexpensive and intimate way to travel for those who don’t mind getting their hands dirty. Helpx. net is a website where volunteers can look at want- ads for parttime transient or seasonal positions around the world.

‘HelpXers’ can do many different odd jobs; from farm work to working in a hostel, from being a nanny, building a fence, to working on a boat. Most hosts have an agreement of four hours a day in exchange for free room and board. Situations vary. Housing can be anything from a guesthouse to a shared room or even camping on the hosts’ land. It’s a way to get past tourist traps and get to know the people of foreign countries.

CM 4

HelpX currently has around 9,000 hosts in 100 countries. The majority of hosts are in New Zealand, Australia and Europe. Other locations include Nepal, Kenya and Fiji. Rob Prince, the founder of HelpX, is a British worldtraveler who was in New Zealand when he noticed there were always posts looking for helpers up at backpackers’ hostels. He decided to create a website to broaden the reach of these posts. The site has grown steadily for 12 years with Prince working on improvements as the developer of the site. “The most enjoyable part of running HelpX is when members say what a great time they have had and how beneficial and life changing it has been for them,” Prince said. It most certainly has shaped my life in incredible ways. I discovered HelpX through a friend and I was amazed at all of the possibilities. I decided to spend a summer in Italy, knowing that I didn’t have the funds to make it happen without finding work. ‘Volere è potere,’ Italian for ‘where there’s a will there’s a way’ was my mantra, as I took off alone to a country where I barely spoke the language and didn’t know a single soul. Upon my departure, my dad expressed concern, “Well, just so long as you don’t get sold into Russian slave labor.” I figured that I could manage not becoming a sex slave, but I had other worries, like food and shelter. I first arranged a few days at Antonello’s Farm Stay in Abruzzi, Italy, about two hours away from Rome. Antonello Siragusa picked me up at the train station and brought me to his family’s organic farm in the mountains. I was shown to my room that I shared with three female volunteers. In Siragusa’s ad he’d stated ‘musicians welcome’ I thought I would be able to play my banjo and sing as payment for my stay. When I got handed a pickax and was told to help with trail building I was confused. However, I actually enjoyed digging into the side of a mountain, and hard work makes food taste better. That night we were served rabbit for dinner and, as a Canadian girl sat across from me sucking the brains out of a bunny skull, I knew I was in foreign territory.

I loved my time at the farm, but I wanted to be at the beach for the summer. So, I went to Ischia, an island in the bay of Naples. I spent the summer at The Ring Hostel, a charming renovated whitewashed monastery nestled in volcanic slopes, owned by the Colella family. I was a maid, a front desk worker, a waitress, a bartender, I washed dishes; I did it all. To reach the family’s restaurant, we had to navigate through the ancient narrow streets of Forio and up a hill with an awe-inspiring view of the Mediterranean. The Colellas

“Well, just so long as you don’t get sold into Russian slave labor.” -Annie’s Father kept my belly full of extraordinarily delicious food and wine. I was no longer a tourist. I learned the language and got to know the Italian island life intimately. It was one of the hardest, yet rewarding times of my life. A few years later, I did help exchange in Akaroa, a tiny town on New Zealand’s south island. I was traveling with a friend, and when we saw our gorgeous guesthouse overlooking a glimmering bay, we were in awe. The Irish immigrant family we stayed with was generous and kind. We spent five days building a fence among frolicking sheep on the emerald hillsides in the Southern Hemisphere sun.

We were the family’s first experience with help exchange. The mother, Joan McArdle, heard about HelpX through a co-worker. “A few weeks later,” she said, “I was in Cathedral Square, Christchurch, looking for two girls with backpacks and a banjo case. “We are still using the site and have been very lucky with the helpers we have hosted. We have really enjoyed the diversity of the people we have had stay with us. Rural New Zealand is quite bi-cultural and I felt that our children could easily miss out on the richness that diversity brings,” McArdle said. Traveling changes you in ways that you could never imagine. It challenges you with unexpected situations. It takes you by the hair, forces you to experience new things, and makes you feel alive in the skin you are in. There’s a peace that comes when traveling to new places that is like no other feeling. It’s a reverence, a calm; the constant clatter of the mind quiets, as you serenely observe. And as Siragusa, from Antonello’s Farm Stay, said, HelpX is an exchange that is “cultural, intellectual and spiritual.” As a HelpXer, it’s important to know what is expected of you before you show up on the host’s doorstep. Helpx.net states, “We advise both helpers and hosts to ask plenty of questions about each other in order to establish expectations from each party.” Also, before you jump on a plane, be sure that you have done your research on required visas for your destination. McArdle said, “It is an exchange and, as I have said, we have been lucky that most of our helpers have viewed it as such and not just a cheap way to travel. It is good for our children to see different personal dynamics at work and figure out what makes a good helper. Some day the shoe might be on the other foot and they might be the one carrying the backpack and banjo case waiting for a ride to some unknown destination to share their stories and lives, food, work and laughter.” So, answer the wanderlust calling! Life is a culmination of shared experiences. Get out there and see the different ways of life in other countries, but more importantly, discover the similarities we share.

Under the Jalama Beach Sun Story by Tonia Ciancanelli Photography by Araceli Gutierrez

Just north of Los Angeles’s congested freeways, through the smog of spray tan and overcrowded beaches, an indigenous zone of pristine coastline and abundant wildlife awaits. The first time I dug my toes into the sand at Jalama Beach was after an exhausting three-hour drive from Long Beach, taking California’s Pacific Coast Highway’s scenic route. I drove through the night, arriving at the beach just as the sun was rising. I walked up to the first camp ranger I saw and out of respect for the beach, I inquisitively asked where smoking and drinking were permitted. “Anywhere you want,” the ranger said. “As long as you leave the area the same way you found it.” Campsites at Jalama Beach are given on a first come, first serve basis, offering a glint of hope for summer campers who haven’t reserved six months in advance. Without the binding laws that are enforced at most beaches in Southern California, Jalama Beach also allows well-mannered dogs an opportunity to frolic in the Pacific Ocean. The campground, situated in Santa Barbara’s northern-most popular beach break for surfers, creates a

CM 6

stellar spot to catch waves where campers also can pass time while waiting for the lottery-style drawing at 3 p.m. for a camp site. The Jalama Beach Store and Grill, open daily until 5 p.m. for visitors who aren’t campfire cooks, sells ‘world famous Jalama burgers’ for an effortless lunch. During my stay at Jalama, I have made countless unforgettable bonds with strangers, when the only responsibility interrupting our anti-dapper conversation under the smog-free sky is throwing another log in the fire. Once the camp is set up and the fire is thriving, campers can use the built-in fire ring for smoking tritip, brisket or other meats that do not need much attention. Campers can marinade the meat with a spice rub the day prior to cooking it. Think onions, cayenne pepper and garlic as the base, adding other preferred spices to taste. Place the meat in a covered pot over the open flames; for every pound cook for one and a half hour. While dinner is cooking, play a game of horseshoes in the fenced beach area, hike the trails overlooking the untouched coastline, whale watch, or identify birds like the endangered brown pelican that is native to the area.

Trusting that the guests will be respectful, the Jalama Beach Store loans campers playing cards and board games. When the wind is howling, which is often, campers can snuggle inside their tent with a hot-buttered rum cocktail. The cocktail’s butter mixture may be prepped at home by combining one stick of butter, two cups of brown sugar, a teaspoon of cinnamon and a teaspoon of nutmeg. Then for a toasted cocktail finish, dollop a tablespoon of the chilled mixture into equal parts of hot water and spiced rum.

squawk in search of their own breakfast. As the day heats up under the Jalama Beach sun, campers should sip and enjoy a refreshing Sangria Spritzer. The fruit-blend can be prepared by combining fruits such as apples, pears and oranges, which can be brought from home or purchased from the Jalama Beach store, with any flavored juice, lemon-lime soda, and red or white wine. The invigorating drink easily can be tailored for children by nixing the wine. Campers should keep in mind there is less smog at

“The first time I dug my toes into the sand at Jalama Beach was after an exhausting three-hour drive north from Long Beach...” Long days in the heat will likely guarantee an early slumber. With the sun beaming in the tent, an Equally early rise also can be expected, even for those who don’t consider themselves ‘morning folks.’ For a utensil-free breakfast, consider bringing a flat griddle to make scrambled eggs and chorizo, which campers can roll up in a tortilla and add hot sauce. Coffee-driven campers, on the other hand, can opt for a French press or grab a swift cup at the campground store before walking along the beach and listen to the endless crash of waves, while birds around the area

this isolated destination, so consistently applying sunblock and hydrating with water compensate for sugary beverages and the sun’s unobstructed rays. Three-day weekends mark nearly every month on the calendar, making opportunities to escape the corporate bustle frequent. This cellphone-free zone offers a convenient, lowmaintenance getaway for travelers in search of serenity.

Camp-side secrets: Keep in mind passengers and pets that are prone to motion sickness because the Jalama Road is extremely curvy. Throw trash in campground dumpsters and place heavy objects on coolers at night to avoid raccoon ransacks. If you’re bringing a dog, buy glow stick necklaces for around Fido’s neck to easily spot him once the sun sets. Fill a metal bucket with water and place near the campfire. Warm water doesn’t seem like such a hot commodity until you are living outdoors. It’s a welcomed treat for campers washing their faces before slipping into their sleepingbag at bedtime. Pour vegetable oil on logs and cardboard before lighting to ensure the campfire keeps burning. Bring a small brush and dustpan to sweep sand out of your tent.

HEAVY STRUGGLE

LOSING WEIGHT GAINING CONFIDENCE Story by Daniel Brown Photography by Nicholas Noel

hristmas time for a morbidly obese man is bad news. Treats like fudge, “Oreo balls,” and other fried, fatty foods are no good. It’s hard having an overweight family who doesn’t know how to restrict themselves. For a morbidly obese man like me, the holidays are both a blessing and a burden. I knew what I had to do, but did I have the willpower to do it? By December 2010, I weighed more than 320 pounds. We were visiting family in Utah and it was tough to watch what I was eating. We sat indoors because of the snow, watching movies and eating treats. Around Jan. 7, when the holidays were over, my mom and I were driving home. Traffic was almost at a dead stop by the time we hit the Cajon Pass. Heavy snowfall blanketed the ground all around us. I was listening to music on my iPod, so it was just the world and my thoughts. That’s when I had an epiphany: I wasn’t happy with the way I was. Being as big as I was, what will come to me? Everything I

CM 8

8 \ SPRING 2013

wanted to do with my life required me to go out and get it. I can’t just sit around and hope that things will come to me. It doesn’t happen that way. I decided to change my life. I started counting calories for everything I ate and tried to stay within 1,000 calories a day. I bought a gym pass and weighed myself at 325 pounds the first day. I started going to the gym twice a day. I started off with 30 minutes on the stationary bike for my cardio, then I would go straight to lifting weights with little break to keep my heart rate up, and finish off in the sauna. Over the next eleven months I worked up to the elliptical instead of the bike, and then moved on to the treadmill. In the first four months I had lost 70 pounds and by my birthday on July 20, I had lost 100 pounds. I reached my goal weight of 175 pounds by mid-November. The struggle with my weight has always been up and down. In the fourth grade, at 5-feet tall, I weighed around 140 pounds. Due to my size, my family wanted me to play Pop Warner football. When we went to sign up, the lady at the sign-up table told us that because of my weight, I would have to join a league with mostly 14-16 year olds. My mom, being the protective mom she is, decided that that was too unsafe, since I was only 9 or 10 years old. Instead of football, I joined a soccer league and my family put me on a diet. By the fifth grade, I had lost 20 pounds.

“Everything I wanted to do with my life required me to go out and get it. I can’t just sit around and hope that things will come to me.” In sixth grade, I was in worse health than before, weighing in at 160 pounds. My older brother, Jeff, resorted to bribery. He offered to buy me a Playstation 2 if I joined Pop Warner. I did it. Like before, I had to join the older league because of my weight. I was one of the youngest in that group. I was more than 160 pounds, but we had plenty of time and practice before the first game to condition and get in shape. We ran vigorously, spat, sweat and I ate right. I watched the weight shed off and lost as much as was being asked of me. At about 5 feet 6 inches tall I was around 135-138 pounds in the seventh grade. High school is the worst place to struggle with your weight. I went in to high school creeping up on 200 pounds. I tried out for the baseball team because that had been my first love since I was 3 years old. I was always the heavy hitter and slowest runner. The high school coach was only interested in fast, “Chone Figgins-like players,” so I knew I was screwed. Yet, I still tried for it. When I got cut from the team, I got away with being a teacher’s aide, earning Physical Education credits even though I was not getting any exercise. Sophomore year I tried out for the baseball team again, only to repeat exactly what happened the previous year. We only needed two years of P.E. credits. And there they were. Unearned. When I graduated from high school in 2008, my weight was somewhere between 260 and 270 pounds. From there my weight kept slowly escalating. I did not get the concept of nutrition. I knew we had to watch what we ate but I never followed through. When I finally got my mind right, I did what I thought had to be done. I did an hour of cardio a day, I dieted, and I got to a healthy weight. I couldn’t live the way I was living. At least, I couldn’t live that way for long. What I regret most in my lifetime is not being smart about what I put into my body and not sticking with sports after I failed. When I realized what I was doing to myself, I made the effort to lose the weight. I was unhappy with myself, so I took the steps to change. If you have anything that you can change for the better, it’s never too late. 9

YOUTUBE CULTURE: My journey to find an Internet Star. Story by Katie Cortez Photography by Denise Maniarez

CM 10

feeling of nervousness began to crawl over me as I realized tonight was the night I would finally meet Jenna Marbles. I stared out of the passenger-side window at our destination as the car slowed to a stop on the corner of Stanford Street and Wilshire Boulevard. A blonde woman, wearing a black-and-white Christmas sweater, caught my eye as she walked toward a bar. I smacked the driver’s right hand to grab her attention. “IT’S HER! OH MY GOD, IT’S HER!” we screamed with excitement, frightening our friends in the backseat. The whack to the back of my head from the terrified passenger behind me didn’t faze me one bit as we watched the comedic YouTube entertainer disappear into the bar. In recent years, YouTube has moved from users posting videos of their cats, to actual shows that air weekly, sometimes even daily. A poll of about 50 Long Beach City College and Cal State Long Beach students showed that 34 percent of students log onto YouTube more than once a week, while 26 percent view videos more than twice a day. YouTubers have thousands of channel subscribers and more than a million video views. They have pioneered a new medium of comedy, all from the comfort of their homes with a computer, a video camera, and free downloadable editing software. Comedians are slowly leaving the overthe-top, special-effect-filled comedy and are leaning toward showing comedy in realism. Unlike A-List celebrities who prefer to keep their locations from public knowledge, YouTubers are much easier to find in the real world. They post their favorite haunts on Twitter and Tumblr, and upload their outrageous antics on the Web without shame or discretion, showing the viewers the YouTubers are just like anyone else. In early 2012, CSULB student Kate Bruins introduced me to Jenna Marbles’s videos, with the belief that the three of us should be friends. Every Wednesday, we log onto YouTube to see what kind of shenanigans Marbles

“I felt like an idiot as we walked to the door and even more so when I ran into it.” has in store, and often wonder what it would be like to hang out with her. Bruins’s sister Sarah often commented that our unusual and child-like actions are “something Jenna Marbles would do.” Marbles is among one of the most popular YouTube stars, with millions of subscribers from around the globe. Of the 50 students who were polled, 52 percent know who Marbles is and find her hilarious. When Kate and I learned Marbles had moved to Santa Monica from Boston, we were given a sliver of hope that one day the three of us would meet. A mutual friend posted a link on my Facebook page to an LA Weekly article from May 17, 2012, telling us the street she lives on. On her Twitter she posted the name of her favorite bar, ‘SOUTH.’ We have not been to her street because we thought that would be a little too creepy. However, after months of discussion, we made the trek to the bar. I was a nervous wreck. In my head, I kept trying to think of what I would say to her and not make it sound like I’m a stalker-freak. We walked into the bar and I immediately felt a surge of confidence. After hours of sitting at a table without any sign of her, I managed to talk to one of the owners. He informed us she normally visits the bar two or three times a week and encouraged us to continue pursuing her. Although we were disappointed at her absence, we resolved to try again the following week. I had spent the week building my mental confidence to keep from making an ass of myself. Once we saw her walk inside, it all melted away. We found a table, and my hands became clammy as

panic set in when I realized we were seated across from Marbles and her friends. During the course of the evening, I recognized Hannah Hart of the YouTube series “My Drunk Kitchen” was with them. “I’ve never seen you look that nervous,” Sarah said later, “you were physically shaking.” A nearby group was acting rowdy, so Marbles and her friends went to the outside patio to avoid the noise. We noticed Hart had left her scarf on her chair and after much coaxing, Kate and I decided to return it. We talked to Marbles, Hart, and their friends for several minutes, introducing ourselves and exchanging a few jokes about selling the scarf to fans on Ebay. I made an effort to come off as cool and collected but instead my voice trembled with fear. I could not stop stuttering. I made a fool of myself in an instant when I stated “I go to Long Beach City College...in Long Beach,” as if they could not deduce where the college is. I felt like an idiot as we walked to the door, and even more so when I ran into it. Aside from that mortifyingly embarrassing night, I have since returned to SOUTH on more than one occasion, not because of its frequent visitors, but because I honestly enjoy the bar. It’s obvious that Marbles and Hart recognize me. They clearly make every effort to keep themselves distant from crazed fans like me. Although I am disappointed in my attempt to befriend them, I can understand and respect their desire to keep to themselves. Perhaps one day we will become friends, but until then I will always have YouTube.

Pissed off Peter: Origins Finding a place to belong in a virtual community Story by Peter Clark Photography by Nicholas Noel

‘m a gamer. Well, that wasn’t hard to say. The truth is out now. Not that it was a secret or anything; it’s just that people sometimes frown on gamers in today’s society. I’ve been a gamer since as far back as I can remember, and this is my story. I started gaming when I was a wee lad, playing Wolfenstein 3D in 1992. That was not by any means my first game, but the game I spent the most time playing. Prior to that I had played a few MS-DOS games of which I can’t recall the names. I also remember fondly watching my dad play a game called Sensory Overload on an old Macintosh computer. After Wolfenstein 3D, I played Doom in 1993, then Doom 2 in 1994. I wasn’t sure why I liked these games, or why I played them. They just pleased me visually and kept me entertained. I couldn’t at the time explain what I was; I was just a kid doing the things that I liked to do. In the years that followed, I deterred from my PC gaming ways when I was given a PlayStation. I fell in love with the console; playing every game I could get my hands on. I went to Blockbuster every Friday, renting one or two games for the weekend. Then I got the PlayStation 2, and loved it even more. Trips to Blockbuster were increasing. Even though I played the consoles so much, I never thought about who I was becoming—a gamer. Playing the console made me feel distant from a PC; I longed to get back on the computer and play the games I used to play. In September 1998, I was introduced to the game that changed my life—Starcraft. I hogged my mom’s com-

CM 12

puter playing the game. She always wanted me off, but I couldn’t get enough of Starcraft. I played online, and virtually met a host of people. I used to always get upset when my parents went to bed and I couldn’t play anymore, as the computer was in their room. A few years later my parents bought me a PC, and my gaming years took a turn for the better. I started playing various single player games, merely testing out the system. I still played Starcraft whenever I could, but it was fizzling out, and I was losing interest. I then got Diablo 2, and it changed my life for good. I played Diablo 2 online, I again met a lot of people, and then I did the one thing that made me understand who I was—I joined a clan. From the moment I joined Warrior Nation, I knew what I was, I was a hardcore gamer. Seeing the tag WNx in front of my name was so invigorating. I was a part of something big; I was part of a family. I finally felt like I belonged to something while I was gaming, instead of being a nomad. Warrior Nation was huge; it supported multiple games, all of which interested me. I bounced around a lot between games, finally settling on Tom Clancy’s Ghost Recon (which later turned into Tom Clancy’s Rainbow Six 3: Raven Shield). The group of fine gentlemen and one woman, from all over the world, convinced me even more that I was a gamer. I used a voice chat program to communicate with them while we did scrimmages against other clans. After many years with Warrior Nation, the clan and I grew apart; I met some new virtual friends and started play-

ing games on a larger scale. Instead of just playing in small matches with no more than 11 other people, I started playing games with a huge community. I began playing Anarchy Online, a Massive Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game or MMORPG. This was yet another defining moment of my life. I realized, without a doubt, that I was in fact, a seriously hardcore gamer. It was solidified; this was who I was and who I forever will be. This was my game; this was what I was meant to play. Any other games now seemed inferior at that point. The community that MMORPG provided was more than I ever could have hoped for. The virtual friends I made through playing Anarchy Online still are some of my best friends online. Since that fateful day, I’ve played numerous MMORPGs, and none have ever captured the sense of wonder like Anarchy Online. It was an experience of a lifetime. After Anarchy Online, I played games such as City of Heroes, World of Warcraft, Warhammer Online, Star Wars: The Old Republic, and TERA, to name a few. While they all build on themselves to create a better game, the experiences I enjoyed in Anarchy Online cannot be remade. It is through games strangely enough, that I understood who I was in this world. Without games I wouldn’t be who I am today. Without games I’d probably be a completely different and perhaps a miserable person. Without games I’d be someone else. Gaming made me, and I don’t think I’d have it any other way.

THRIFTY THREADS FOR THRIFTY HEADS Cheap chic and charitable. Story by Samwell Favela Photography by Daniel Flores & Tanielle Gilbert

ithin the first 3 seconds of meeting someone new, you are being checked out from head to toe. Assumptions are made. It sounds morally wrong, but it’s not necessarily our fault, we’ve been programmed to think this way. Mark Twain once said more than a century ago, “The finest clothing made is a person’s skin, but, of course, society demands something more than this.” Instead of saying, ‘I don’t give a damn about what people think about me,’ why not use this concept to your benefit? Dress up. Show the world what you have to offer. I’m not talking about wearing a tuxedo or a high-end dress every day. I’m simply suggesting that a little extra effort into your outfit goes a long way. Your style attracts

CM 14

people to you. Dressing well shows you are not like the rest, and makes you stand out in the best way possible. It could be the icing on top of the cake to convince your professor to write you a letter of recommendation, or even get you a date with that cute person who sits next to you in class. But you’re probably thinking to yourself, ‘How the hell am I supposed to be fashionable when I can barely buy myself a day parking permit?’ You’re in luck. There’s a way to be fashionable without having to spend more than $20 on an outfit. What are these gems I speak of? Thrift stores— from huge organizations like Goodwill to smaller lesserknown shops, thrift stores truly are treasure chests waiting to be found. To thrift, you are celebrating the discovery of a new use for an old item at a cheap price. Not only are you getting great deals, but 15

“All items are lovingly donated, and the proceeds go toward feeding, clothing, and providing household items to families all over Southern California.” Michelle Mosqueda, Associate, The Feed Store

depending on which thrift store you go to, you could also be helping out your community. The Feed Store, on 4th Street and Cherry Avenue in Long Beach, is a thrift store that is an extension of a non-profit organization, Grateful Hearts. “All items are lovingly donated, and the proceeds go toward feeding, clothing, and providing household items to families all over Southern California,” said associate Michelle Mosqueda. Down the block from The Feed Store is the Assistance League of Long Beach. The donated inventory is reasonably priced and the associates are volunteers, the manager being the only paid employee. All of the profit goes toward different philanthropic charity programs throughout Long Beach. I hope the thought of fashionable bargains, with the added bonus of helping charities in your neighborhood is yet another incentive to dress well. Now that you know where to go, here are some helpful tips on how to go about thrift store shopping. Trust me, it is not an easy task, but it is well worth the mission.

CM 16

Thrifty Tips Story by Sierra Jennings

hopping at a thrift store will invite you to different styles. You can find a new style or create a new trend with old clothing and accessories. Be open to new things and have a vision for the look you want. Making your own favorite trendy item brings out your creativity and also saves you money. Whether it’s a bracelet you’ve always wanted, a headband, or a creative tee, you can style it the way you want. Tutorials on sites like YouTube, Pinterest, and Tumblr, can help guide you to make a fancy accessory or cool clothing item that you’ve been dying to get your hands on. Don’t be afraid to make alterations. Sometimes a thrift store may not have the items you want, like high-waist shorts, scarves, tanks, or crop tops. Use your imagination. Buy a pair of jeans that fits and you can easily make them into the shorts that you’ve always wanted. With a purchase of an old bed sheet, you can make a scarf and save the rest of the fabric for future creations. Layer colors and dress according to the season. Knowing the colors for fall, summer, spring, and winter for this year will help you put together fashionable combinations. Men, don’t be afraid of wearing turtlenecks. Wearing a nice jacket over it will bring out your masculine jawline, and the layers will give a great sense of style.

Partial List of Local Thrift Stores The Feed Store 2001 E. 4th St. Long Beach (562) 433-7500

Goodwill 2610 Atlantic Ave. Long Beach (562) 989-3630

Goodwill 8155 E. Wardlow Rd. Long Beach (562) 719-9242

Out of the Closet 3500 E. Pacific Coast Hwy. Long Beach (562) 494-0340

Buffalo Exchange 4608 E. 2nd St. Long Beach (562) 433-1991

Assistance League of Long Beach 2100 E. 4th St. Long Beach (562) 434-7121 17

Story by Damon Moore Photography by Trevor Roberson

Collecting designer sneakers brings an adrenaline rush, or a dream being crushed.

t is dark. The blistering cold air whistles like The Andy Griffith Show theme song. The only people who have any business in this climate are Eskimos. However, a long line of people wraps around the back entrance of the Lakewood Mall. Tents are set up, sleeping bags are strewn on the sidewalk, and babies are crying because they have been dragged out by their parents to face the brutal winter. People quiver not from the testicle-shrinking weather alone, but also from anxiety. The anxiety caused by what these people are waiting for are the Air Jordan XIs, set to be released in the next five hours. Pictographs in caves depict humans wearing animal skins and furs to protect their feet. Today, thanks to the first pair of red and black Nike Air Jordan Is released in 1985, basketball shoes became more than just a means to protect feet. Shoes act as fashion statements, status symbols and a lifestyle. Sneakers, or kicks, are a part of a world known as the sneaker game. The sneaker game consists of the kicks, sneaker collectors commonly referred to as shoe-heads, and the antagonist in the eyes of the sneaker game—resellers. The players in the sneaker game are the shoe-heads. Shoe-heads see no problem at all with waiting in line at the crack of dawn for a pair of $185 shoes, while already wearing a fresh pair of kicks. Waiting in line, freezing, for an expensive-ass pair of shoes is completely illogical in the eyes of most people, but to a shoe-head it is more than just an expensive-ass shoe. A sneaker is seen as more than just canvas, a rubber sole and laces. The sneakers represent who the owners are and the pilgrimage they’ve endured to buy or cop a certain pair of kicks.

CM 18

Curtis Vanderwerf, a collector in his early 30s, has more than 40 pairs of shoes. He has had a passion for sneakers since his days in elementary school. “I have always had shoes, since I was younger. I used to save my allowance or just have my parents hold on to it so that I could buy a pair of shoes,” said Vanderwerf as he looked back emotionally on the days when his sneaker collecting began. Most sneaker collectors talk about how happy they were after purchasing a must-have pair of shoes. Some talk about how wild they went once they caught a glimpse of the Nike or Air Jordan logo while opening Christmas gifts. The raw emotions shoe-heads experience are part of the reason why kicks are treated like precious stones and protected the same a mother does her baby as she is breast feeding. However, shoe-heads’ stories aren’t all jolly Christmas tales. Kevin Mucio, an owner of more than 100 pairs of shoes was devastated after finding out that he wasn’t going to be able to get a new pair of J’s. “I wanted some Jordan Is so bad I cried after I found out they were sold out. I called Lakewood Mall, Cerritos Foot Locker, everywhere and no one had them,” Mucio said while wearing the red and black Air Jordan Is he missed out on as a sixth-grader. Shoe-heads have different reasons for buying sneakers. Some weren’t able to get certain pairs like Mucio, and some, like Vanderwerf, had them but still wanted another pair for sentimental reasons. There also are people who take advantage of a shoe-heads’ love for shoes—resellers. Shoe-heads have a love-hate relationship with the resellers. The resellers are loved because they offer out-of-stock kicks. They’re hated because they

sell them for at least double the retail price. Some resellers have shoes priced as high as $6,000, making it damn near impossible to buy a certain pair of kicks unless someone has a money tree sprouting from their ass. The price of shoes isn’t even the worst part of the sneaker game, violence is. People have robbed, rioted and killed over shoes. On May 14, 1990, Sports Illustrated released an article about violence over sneakers. The lengthy article talked about acts of violence motivated by sneakers. The peak of violence over shoes was during the mid-1980s and early 1990s. Violence still is part of the sneaker game, although not as bad as it has been in the past. On Dec. 23, 2011, a riot broke out over a pair of Air Jordans XIs in Dallas, Texas. Nike has attempted to slow the violence down by having a raffle in place and putting an end to midnight releases. According to Nicole Carson, a LBCC student and Foot Locker employee, the raffle and the ban of midnight releases have made a big difference. “No more people trying to break down the door,” Carson said. The shoe-heads, the kicks, the resellers, the long lines, and despite the violence—the sneaker game continues.

“I used to save my allowance or just have my parents hold on to it so that I could buy a pair of shoes,” –Curtis Vanderwerf, Shoe-head

Long Beach City College and the Dark Side Story by Arnold James Photography by Daniel Holmes

o sa y th e l ea st, L o n g Beach City College and its students, hav e h a d a so mew ha t ch e cker ed past. Fr om for m er students involved i n N a zi p l ots, to g a n g i nvolved shootings, this is a par tial list comp i l e d fro m the Vi ki n g n e wspaper ar chives of tr agedy and death, di re ctl y or i n dir ectly involved with LBCC.

N OV E M B E R 1 9 8 5 “Student dies on LBCC tennis courts.” Tragedy visited LBCC on a Monday afternoon when student, John Mendoza, collapsed on the LAC tennis courts. Mendoza, 20, was pronounced dead at 2:25 p.m. at Doctors Hospital in Lakewood. Officials stated that the cause of the death was due to an enlargement to the left side of his heart.

“Well, there was the security guard who got his head bashed in by two guys with baseball bats…walked up behind him and just bashed his brains in for no apparent reason. Really fucked the guy up.” –Jim Truitt, Viking newspaper photo adviser, retired

“Cancer deaths cause probe into the LAC Building M, Room 231.” Since June 1977, six college employees have died from cancer and two others have been diagnosed with operable cancer. Instructor Drew Featherston, who died Oct. 1, was diagnosed with a brain tumor. On Sept. 17, a few weeks prior to Featherston’s death, instructor and cafeteria supervisor Dick Waters died from cancer as well. Both Featherston and Waters and the four employees who died before them— instructors Lee Van Oosten, Mark Hannaford and Don Oleson—had been at the college for several years (from 13 to more than 20 years) and had occupied offices in Building M during that time.

On June 1, Health Science Associates, an environmental and safety firm in Los Alamitos inspected the building. Special attention was paid to Room 231 in Building M, where a higher number of the people who had developed cancer, had worked at one time or another. In evaluating the safety of the office and the building as a whole, the firm tested for the most common environmental agents suspected to be carcinogens: hydrocarbons, formaldehyde, ozone, asbestos and organic/ inorganic compounds within the water. At the end of the investigation none of the elements were found.

OCTOBER 1990

APRIL 1991

“Woman slashes herself with razor, hospitalized.” A young woman was in stable condition after slashing herself with an X-Acto knife in an upstairs restroom in Building C at the LAC.

“Trained motorcyclist at PCC, shot to death two blocks away.” Matt Haines, 32, a former LBCC student died from a gunshot to the head by someone in a rabid mob of black rioters, at the 1900 block of Lemon Avenue and Pacific Coast Highway.

J u ly 1 9 9 1

“ESL friend slain.” Classmates at the PCC were concerned when Mayra Mora missed class on Friday, Oct. 26, and failed to attend a party the next day, said ESL (English as a Second Language) Instructor John Hart. Mora was found stabbed to death at 8:06 p.m. on Oct. 28, in an apartment she shared with her boyfriend, Woodrow Wilson High School

“Employee shot in parking lot: brother arrested.” Marc Berry, 46, an LBCC internal auditor, was shot multiple times with a .357 revolver at the LAC. Berry was shot as he was changing a flat tire in Parking Lot C on July 25, at about 6 p.m. Buena Park police arrested the victim’s brother, Scott Berry, 49, after finding him sleeping in a car. Marc Berry recovered from wounds to the upper arm, mouth, back, and stomach. An ongoing family battle over an inheritance may have been a motive for the shooting, according to police reports.

M AY 1 9 9 2

N OV E M B E R 2 0 0 2 “Former student jailed in Nazi plot.” Christopher David Fisher, 20, was in custody without bail for allegedly plotting to kill Rodney King and bomb a predominantly AfricanAmerican church in Los Angeles. Fisher took psychology classes in 1991 at the LAC. He had been identified as the leader of the Fourth Reich Skinheads, a racist militant group that police say were planning to ignite a race war.

AU G U ST 1 9 9 9

J u ly 1 9 9 3

“Musician struck by car dies.” Richard Clary, 19, an LBCC student, was killed by a hit-and-run driver after being struck at about 9:30 p.m., Aug. 19, at the corner of Bellflower Boulevard and Harvey Way. The driver was later apprehended and charged with felony hit-and-run and DUI/DWI. Clary suffered multiple internal and head injuries. He was transported to Long Beach Memorial Hospital where he was pronounced dead shortly after his arrival. Clary was just two blocks away from his home.

N OV E M B E R 1 9 9 4

“Gang crossfire kills campus linebacker for the Viking football team.” Star linebacker and defensive leader Kasun Charles, 21, was shot and killed near his home in Wilmington. Charles and a friend were traveling near the intersection of Blinn Street and Pacific Coast Highway when several men, believed to be gang members, confronted them shortly after an altercation occurred and shots were reported fired. Charles died at the scene.

CM 22

Spanish Instructor Pedro Tepoz-Leon. Tepoz-Leon was spotted Monday, Oct. 29, in Vacaville where he was treated for stab wounds, which appeared to be selfinflicted. He was later arrested in connection with Mora’s murder. Mora was attending LBCC and Tepoz-Leon was a former student at LBCC.

Retired Viking newspaper photo adviser Jim Truitt shared some of his

stories, from being on the campus for more than 20 years. “Well, there was the security guard who got his head bashed in by two guys with baseball

bats,” Truitt said. “I guess the guy was looking for something in his car trunk

in the parking lot, when the two dudes walked up behind him and just bashed his brains in for no apparent reason. Really fucked the guy up.”

Long Beach City College and death, for whatever reason, just seem

to go hand in hand. Is it a coincidence or are there more sinister forces at

work at our beloved school? If there were a candidate for a haunted campus, LBCC would surely fit the bill.

IT’S NOT FLIRTING, IT’S HARASSMENT Story by Julia Castro Photography by Shelby Dereszynski

My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach. It was mid-September, more than a couple years ago. I decided to change my hair to a pixie cut, a popular hair trend among the 1950s cinema actresses such as Elizabeth Taylor. I walked out of the hair salon to meet up with my friend who was just a couple blocks away. I felt confident, like nothing could ruin this day. I had my music blasting through my headphones; I noticed from the corner of my eye a gray truck driving slowly creeping toward my direction. The driver of the truck was a white male who looked to be in his early ‘40s. I realized the driver in the gray truck was trying to get my attention. I removed my headphone from my right ear and I heard him say, “I like boys.” I thought to myself, “Oh my god, do I really look like a boy?” I decided to ignore this repulsive man and I continued to walk on. Once again, with my music blasting in my ears, I realized the driver persisted to creep behind me. I paused the music; I wanted to know why he didn’t leave me alone. The driver leaned forward, so only I can hear, and he said in a low, raspy voice “$40?” I was shocked. I thought to myself, ‘In broad daylight, is he fucking serious?’ He parked where I would have to walk past him. I went into stores to avoid him and to wait to see if he had left. But no, he was playing a sick, twisted game and I was the bait.

CM 24

It would’ve been a natural instinct to curse at him and tell him to leave me alone, but I was scared he would harm me if I provoked him. I couldn’t find where my friend told me to meet her. I decided to hell with this. I walked to her house because she lived nearby. As soon as I hit the corner, there he was, making a right turn, and he looked my way. Enough was enough. “Fuck off!” I yelled. I flipped him the middle finger and scurried away as

...there are better ways of getting a woman’s attention and none of them include the word ‘baby’ in it. fast as I could. Situations like this occur often for a lot of female pedestrians. I’m tired of bullshit like this. Cat calling, blowing kisses, and whistling is not flirting. It’s demeaning and makes us feel uncomfortable. I feel bad for any low self-esteemed woman who doesn’t know that this kind of behavior is not how any man should ever act. It’s not that women don’t appreciate compliments, but there are

better ways of getting a woman’s attention and none of them include the word ‘baby’ in it. Harassment limits the freedom and rights of women to enjoy a simple walk. It’s ridiculous that any woman should be afraid to leave her home because she might have to encounter an obnoxious male. When does it stop? According to an article from AAUW.org (American Association of University Women): Drawing the Line: Sexual Harassment on Campus, female students experience a wide range of effects from sexual harassment that impacts their academics. Based on the article, these female students suffer from lack of sleep, loss of appetite, decreased participation in class, and avoiding study groups. Most female students think about changing schools, avoiding places like the library, and consider changing their major. Most men who harass women are usually older men. I’m sure every girl at some point has had to deal with an older man trying to “sweet talk” her. This machismo attitude trickles down into the minds of the younger generation of men. To them, cat calling may seem like a tolerable behavior because they witness older men acting this way. We are trying to get away from the behavior of the past, where women were treated as objects. For those of you who think this way—stop! Don’t honk at us when

we walk down the street. Don’t stop to blow kisses at us while we wait for the bus. No, we don’t appreciate your cat calls. No, just because we wear a skirt, shorts or any clothing that reveals skin is not an excuse for you to holler at us. And no, we are not asking for it!

no means no

Selling Safe Sex: A Family Tradition Story by Annie Merkley Photography by Pierre Brehier

Family-run sex shop a mainstay on 2nd Street

tepping in from the sunshine and frenetic foot traffic of 2nd Street in Belmont Shore, it takes a moment for your eyes to focus: pin-up girls wink at you from the front of calendars, a pink penis piñata waits patiently to go to bat, a T-shirt reads ‘Eat My Taco,’ and a fish bowl full of condoms beckons like candy to reach in and grab. You’ve found yourself in The Rubber Tree, a friendly, family-run sex shop. Larry Starr, with his partner and exwife Joy, initially opened The Rubber Tree as a condom shop in response to 40 family friends passing away due to AIDS. They soon asked their daughter Shana Starr, who had a background in retail, to be a part of the family’s adult retail store. Despite opposition from the neighborhood, business has thrived. It’s been in the same location for 20 years. Shana Starr said the clientele ranges from men and women, gay or straight, ages 18 to 80, with the bulk of the revenue coming from vibrators and condoms. “It’s funny, in 20 years of having a store how you see things change,” Shana Starr said. “A dancer pole never would have been asked for or even brought up 20 years ago. The only person that would know about a dancer pole 20 years ago was a topless dancer, and she was

CM 26

considered a slut and ho back then.” She pointed to some lilac-colored fur handcuffs, and said with the popularity of the book, ‘Fifty Shades of Grey,’ the items that they always carry are now more sought after than normal. “Twenty years ago, you didn’t give a blowjob,” Starr said, “unless you fucking loved him. Now women give blowjobs like, you know, like, kissing.” Starr has done human sexuality seminars in colleges around Southern California, where a common question was, ‘Is oral sex, sex?’ She thrust her hands in the air to emphasize the words, “and I’m like ‘yeah, it’s oral sex!’” she said. “Here’s another funny thing; you know dildos, you’d think that only lesbians buy them, but let me tell you a secret.” She gave a sly smile, and with excitement in her dark eyes she leaned in, lowered her voice and continued, “A high powered man. Like, I have three of them; a brain surgeon, a pilot, and a chemical engineer, when they are with a woman and they are single, they want the woman to dominate them. ‘Cuz they’re so in control in their careers that when they are not in their career, sexually they are turned on by a woman dominating them. And the man’s prostate, it doesn’t mean you’re

gay but, there’s a G-spot in there. Having a store, you see that so many men have that fantasy but they’re not gay.” Starr grew up with parents who spoke openly about sex. When she was a young teen her father came to her and said, ‘When you’re ready to start having sex, we can get you on the pill, we can buy you condoms. I don’t want your first experience to be on the street, in a car, in a park, I want it to be in the safety of your own room.’ Starr said most people would think what her father told her would encourage a teen to have sex. However, it didn’t. She was 14 at the time of the conversation and didn’t have sex until 17. “When you don’t bring it up,” Starr explained, “then it becomes this mystery that a child wants to conquer, then you take the mystery away and they realize, that’s something I should wait on because that’s a serious situation.” Her father came out when she was five years old. Growing up in Los Angeles in the ‘70s with her father and his African-American partner, she dealt with racism and discrimination from a young age. “I was called ‘N-lover,’ I was called ‘faggot daughter… don’t let your dad kiss you you’ll die from AIDS,’” Starr said. The discrimination got so bad; they were denied service at restaurants, and worse. She spoke about a trip to Knott’s Berry Farm with her father and his friends who were dressed like “screaming queens” wearing platform shoes, bell-

bottoms and unbuttoned shirts exposing their hairy chests. People in line started to make unsavory comments and, “it escalated to the point where my dad and his friends were afraid, so we left, the people chased us to the car to where they broke the window, I got glass in my eye. [They were] yelling ‘fucking fagots we’re gonna fucking kill you!’ Hatred just so deep that it’s scary.” Instead of being angry or discriminate, in return Starr shines in the face of adversity. “When you’ve lived a life like I have you never want anyone to ever have to go through that again.” At the end of the interview a man came into the shop looking for an anniversary gift for his wife, when he overheard Starr talking about her father. He came to the counter and said that his dad was gay, too. They cheered and joked that they should start a club. It was an incredibly intimate moment; there was a tangible bond. In a little family-run sex shop, people are making connections, sharing their lifes’ stories, gaining acceptance and feeling triumphant.

“Here’s another funny thing; you know dildos, you’d think that only lesbians buy them, but let me tell you a secret.” – Shana Starr, owner, Rubber Tree

Putting Your Health on the Line for a Quick Boost Know what’s in your energy drink Story by Bryan Arreguin Photography by Jasper Trias

magine drinking your favorite energy drink while you’re out with your friends and ending up dead the next day. That’s allegedly what happened to 14-yearold Anais Fournier, who died in December 2011, after drinking two 24-ounce Monster Energy drinks—which contains caffeine equal to 14 cans of Coca Cola. The teenager from Maryland suffered cardiac arrest and died of caffeine toxicity. It was later discovered that the girl had a heart condition called mitral valve prolapse, a condition that causes a malfunction in one of the valves in the heart. Recently, Monster has been facing a lawsuit regarding the accusation that its energy drinks were responsible for Fournier’s death. According to reports, Fournier’s mother Wendy Crossland, told the Record Herald that her daughter was at the mall with her friends the night before and had a 24-ounce energy drink. “She drank another one less than 24 hours later,” the mother said, “even though she knew I do not allow them because I know they are bad for you. She went into cardiac arrest three hours later at home.” Over the past two decades, energy drinks have steadily risen in both popularity and sales. In 1987, what was known as “tonic drinks” became what is now known as Red Bull by an Austrian man named Dietrich Mateschitz. Mateschitz took the idea of a tonic drink that could give you energy and added caffeine and sugar. Red Bull had gained a large popularity in Austria and later in the majority of Europe. Finally, in 1997, Red Bull found its way to the U.S. market. As Red Bull gained popularity in the U.S., other energy drinks such as Monster and Rockstar appeared on the market; gaining just about the same popularity and success. Today, Red Bull leads in sales, racking up more than $2 billion in 2012. The energy drink industry has gained a massive amount of popularity due in part to the

CM 28

companies’ form of advertising. Both Monster and Rockstar target young consumers from their teenage years up to mid-20s. The companies target athletes, students, musicians and even gamers. Simply because an energy drink offers “energy” does not mean that it’s a healthy choice. A 16-fluidounce energy drink contains about 25 to 31 grams of sugar and about 80 to 100 milligrams of caffeine, and that’s only per 8-fluid-ounce-serving. According to the American Heart Association, it is recommended that men should consume no more than 45 grams of sugar a day and 30 grams for women; the numbers are even lower for diabetics. Mayoclinic.com recommends that adults should limit their caffeine intake to between 200 and 300 milligrams at the most. If a 16-fluid-ounce can of an energy drink has two servings of about 30 grams of sugar and around 100 milligrams of caffeine, then the recommended limit is either met or surpassed by nearly double of what a person should consume. There are larger 24-fluid-ounce cans of energy drinks which totals to 240 milligrams of caffeine and about 90 grams of sugar. On another note, Monster contains 2,500 milligrams of something called “energy blend.” The energy blend consists of L-carnitine, caffeine, gaurana, glucose, glucuronolactone, inositol and maltodextrim. Props if you know what at least half of these ingredients are. The side effects of too much caffeine include: insomnia, nervousness, muscle tremors, upset stomachs and restlessness. Large amounts of sugar or “energy blends” found in energy drinks are not doing the human body any favors. According to a report by the Food and Drug Administration, both Monster and 5-Hour Energy have been cited for various fatal injuries and even deaths. The FDA’s report suggested that Monster was responsible for five deaths and the energy shot called

5-Hour Energy (containing 215 milligrams of caffeine) had 13 deaths filed dating back as far as 2004. Other filings regarding 5-Hour Energy, about 90 total reports, included life-threatening injuries such as heart attacks, miscarriage, cardiac arrest, vomiting, abdominal pain, and loss of consciousness. Monster and Rockstar had similar reports. It was noted by the FDA that the allegations are not yet certain, meaning that there is not enough proof that the drinks are responsible for the injuries and deaths. With that said, there are prevalent loopholes that allow energy drink companies to get away with murder, so to speak. The FDA does regulate caffeine levels, but not when the energy drinks are classified under dietary supplements instead of beverages. In an anonymous energy drink poll done at Long Beach City College of 50 participants varying in age, half were not fans of energy drinks. Written comments such as, “I don’t think the amount of caffeine/taurine is regulated in energy drinks like they are in sodas. It’s unhealthy,” or, “I think they’re a waste

“With a full load of classes and working full time, they help me get through a busy week.” -LBCC student response to survey.

of money and they get me too ‘hyped up.’” On the other hand, the caffeine lovers defended energy drinks with “I drink them because I have insomnia and I’m often out of energy and sleepy.” Another respondent said, “With a full-load of classes and working full-time, they help me get through a busy week.” Eleven of the 50 polled drink about one or two energy drinks in a month. The rest claimed to drink one or two drinks a week, a few others admitted to drinking more than three a week and once a day. Humberto Zambrano, an LBCC student, believes that energy drinks are unnecessary. “I don’t drink energy drinks because all my life I’ve been told you know ‘get plenty of sleep,’” Zambrano said, adding that getting enough sleep usually works for him. The situation is similar to the cigarette craze of the ‘50s. Cigarettes were heavily advertised on television with doctor recommendations. Of course, little was known about the effects of smoking cigarettes until years later. Not that drinking energy drinks will give the drinker lung cancer, but there are health risks: mental instability, heart failure, high blood pressure, stomach pains, ulcers, and insomnia. We’ve all been tired before, but it’s not worth risking our health over a few extra hours of energy. After a decade of avoiding FDA regulations, the Rockstar and Monster companies decided to market their products as beverages. The decision will require them to disclose the content of their energy drinks. However, it seems the energy drink companies are ditching one loophole for another. Similar to the FDA regulation on alcoholic beverages, if the energy drink companies market their drinks as beverages, they will no longer have to report any deaths or injuries to the FDA. “Nothing will replace the love and vitality of Anais,” Wendy Crossland said in the Record Herald article. “I just want Monster Energy to know their product can kill.”

Hein’s decision to introduce the gallery to North Long Beach seemed impossible. The low-income community is considered a high-crime area and is part of a gang-injunction zone. However, the opportunity for legal artistic expression on the canvas is the alternative for many graffers who might end up serving jail time for showcasing their talents on a bridge or building. ‘Tame,’ 26, a former Long Beach City College student and avid graffiti artist, began graffiti as a lifestyle when he was 13 years old. “It was a way of hanging out with my brothers, even my dad was a graff artist,” Tame said. “He’s the one who taught me how to bomb with my favorite lettering style.” A bomb is when an artist makes a huge mural out of his or her name. “I want people to understand that there is a huge difference between graffiti and tagging,” Tame

It’s Not Vandalism, It’s Art Story by Jesus Hernandez Photography by Shelby Dereszynski

backpack filled with rattling cans, a bucket of white paint and an old paint roller are the materials the artist uses. Sneaking past ‘Do Not Enter’ signs, he runs across empty lots to his canvas, glaring at the world under a flickering street light. While the police will throw cuffs on any urban Picasso they find turning a blank wall into a temporary work of art, some call graffiti an art form. Part of the romance of being a graffiti artist is knowing that the piece might only be up for a couple of days. The artist might not complete it or he might get stopped or even arrested before the paint hisses out of the can. From its beginning, graffiti started off on the wrong side of the law. The first ever graffiti writer, Darryl “Cornbread” McCray, got his name in a juvenile correctional facility, and began writing graffiti all over the walls at 10 years old. By the time he got out of the facility, his name was so popular that he decided to keep writing it on walls. Cornbread sparked a movement in the streets of Philadelphia in 1967.

CM 30

After Cornbread made himself known, it was only a matter of time until others wanted that recognition and infamy that came with something as simple as writing on a wall. By 1970s and ‘80s, graffiti was no longer about getting a name on a wall; it was becoming stylized with lettering. Only those who were engulfed in the culture could decipher what the jumbled-colorful-painted blobs were, while demanding the attention of those who had no idea what it meant. Graffiti was deemed vandalism from day one, and always has been punishable by law. That is until someone figured out, like any movement, the only way to preserve it and gain understanding is to go mainstream with it. Graffiti art became legal once someone decided to stretch and frame a canvas intended to immortalize an art style, which was 100 percent born and raised in the U.S. The only graffiti gallery in the City of Long Beach, 1 of a Khein (1K), is owned and operated by Christian Hein. He set up the gallery in a city that has promoted itself to be very art-friendly. “All of the art is on the other side of town, which is cool, but it only caters to a shrinking demographic in the city,” Hein said. He has a vision for 1K, which is not limited to just hanging art confined to a removable surface. “I have a huge space here. I want to have the gallery open while constantly updating it with new art. I’m opening up an apparel shop here for people who want one-of-a-kind shirts with anything hanging in my gallery, printed on the clothing. I am constantly hosting shows and everything, but most importantly, I want to educate and inspire,” Hein said, as he walked through the empty gallery, his footsteps echoing through the vibrant space.

“Tagging is when a gang

wants to mark their territory and I feel like that people mistake that garbage for what we do which takes vision and talent.

”

- Tame, former Long Beach City College Student. said. “Tagging is when a gang wants to mark their territory, and I feel like that people mistake that garbage for what we do which takes vision and talent.” Hein has been talking to city officials about partnering with local schools, to educate students that vandalizing property and creating art are two separate things. Understanding what graffiti is begins with students and continues with parents, educators and even city officials. Hein said that until the community is educated about preserving this form of street art, graffiti artists will continue to spray paint and police will be misinformed about what it means. Through 1K, community outreach, and other active graffiti artists, Hein hopes to be the cornerstone of graffiti art in Long Beach.

Magazine

CITY

CM 32 lbcitymag.com