I love this time of year. It’s a time for crunchy leaves, hot chocolate and rain boots, and it is generally characterized as a time to think of others and show compassion and kindness for your fellow man. It’s hard to not get a warm, fuzzy feeling inside when you think about the season. There is no end to perfect rainy days, rest and relaxation (at least after finals are over) and most of all, family.

I’m sure there are some of you who are saying, “I spend time with my family all year long. I don’t need a specific holiday or season to think about them.“ I congratulate you lucky few who seem to have escaped with the last normal relations on the planet.

To everyone else, I feel your pain.

I’m not saying that I don’t love my family. On the contrary, I love them very much. In fact, if I were given the choice of any group of people to be related to, I would pick every single one of them over again. (But I’d also add Ellen DeGeneres in there – because, let’s face it, how could you not want to be related to Ellen?)

Anyway, the point is that families can be a loving, supportive, dysfunctional mess. Let me give you an example.

My mother’s side of the family can’t seem to comprehend the idea of having a pleasant and calm holiday. As far back as I can remember, we’ve had some disruption or confrontation during our Thanksgiving dinners. One of my earliest memories of these festivities is of my family sitting down to enjoy our feast of turkey, stuffing and all of those holiday staples.

The next thing I know, my head is being forced down into the pile of mashed potatoes on my plate. Even at that young age, I knew who was responsible for covering my face in my own dinner: Uncle John. As I blink through the warm, mushy vegetable that impedes my vision, my mischievous (for lack of an appropriate word) uncle flashes me a smile that is still ingrained in my memory for evoking an emotion I didn’t have the vocabulary to express at that age.

Of course, I tried to return the gesture, my small, feeble hands grasping for the top of my uncle’s 6-foot-plus frame. However, my grandmother, in her selectively observant genius, calls me out on my ridiculous attempts to overpower my uncle at the dinner table, putting a stop to all efforts at revenge. I’m still looking for an opportunity to get back at him.

This Thanksgiving was not much different. Sure, my uncle didn’t try to shove my face in my food, but I’m pretty sure that the desire wasn’t completely absent from other members of my family. As usual, politics became a point of discussion. You would think that after years of family gatherings we would learn that a group of people whose beliefs run the gamut of political views really shouldn’t discuss certain things. The argument – or “discussion,” as my grandmother insisted – that took up most of our Thanksgiving probably would have been better suited for a playground brawl, not a dinner table.

But it is the season for forgiveness, so in order to try to put any animosity behind us, my family always turns to playing cards. Of course, a competition really isn’t the best way to restore that warm, loving feeling. We all eventually wound up resorting to name-calling, the most common being “cheater,” but I can assure you that more colorful ones slipped out when my grandmother wasn’t paying attention. These games usually end with my Uncle John winning or claiming that the last three hours were simply “practice rounds.“

As we headed to our cars, there were hugs and many emphatic “I love yous,“ mostly in earnest warmth with a tinge of a wine-induced apology. On the ride home, we replayed the night in order to learn from our mistakes and establish a new game plan: “OK, at Christmas don’t bring up Prop 8 and if grandma starts talking about immigration, distract her with your latest school project.“

Although family time can be difficult, I wouldn’t give it up for the world. Where else can you receive such absolute support, or call someone narrow-minded and hear that person respond with an affirmation of unconditional love?

DANIELLE RAMIREZ wants to hear other people’s stories of family dysfunction. To share your holiday memories e-mail her at dramirez@ucdavis.edu.

I don‘t have cable, so when I go home on breaks and watch TV it‘s always a bit surreal to see how far gone we are. Especially the advertising. I mean, there I am, waiting to be told how to feel about myself and suddenly I hear that if I take this one pill I‘ll be “sleepwalking and eating or driving while not fully awake with amnesia for the event.” I heard that, froze and blacked out.

When I came to, I realized: a) I could murder the person who created the ad, claim to be on their drug and totally get away with it and b) I had begun fashioning a noose from my own shoe strings. I haven‘t taken Ambien since.

Then I saw some other ad about some polar bear on some ice sheet dying “cause of something I did or wasn‘t doing or someshit.“ Then came the report about the 1,600 papier-måché pandas set up in Paris to make me feel guilty that there are only 1,600 real pandas left, which was followed by the story about hippies bitching at the Navy for using SONAR and making a bunch of whales trip out thinking they were in Das Boot.

Dude, I could give two sharts and a nocturnal emission about pandas and polar bears and whales. There‘s just over 100,000 left in the world combined. Some see that number as reason to spend millions on “awareness,“ but to me it‘s reason to stop wasting resources on lost causes. These species are practically a nonissue; their status as top predators make them the least ecologically important and really only useful for marketing purposes at Marine World.

Look, when habitat is gone, it‘s gone. And since an ecosystem is constantly in flux, we can‘t assume that 50, 100 or even 1,000 years before we started altering it, it was “normal.“ So any changes we make attempting to “fix“ it will feed back, eventually on us. The CIA calls this “blowback.“ Instead of managing ecosystems to fit our expectations, thus making them dependant on us, we should let nature be and shift our focus from remediation to prevention.

We gotta pick our battles here; the oceans are rapidly acidifying, directly threatening the entire marine food web (especially corals and other calcified groups which tend to dissolve like Tums) and we‘re all fidgety about the Delta Smelt? Please.

If you want me to buy into conservation, explain to me that ending sprawl isn‘t about saving the few trees we‘d cut down and name streets after. It‘s about the total decimation wrought by clear cutting for lumber; strip mining for concrete, copper, coal and iron; watershed diversion and spoilage; chronic drought and all the other crap facilitating that suburb, that business park, that “green“ Target.

Explain that the chemical industry, a contaminated food supply and the rising burden of health care costs are connected. Explain that industrial agriculture, marine dead zones, crashing fish stocks, unemployed fishermen and depressed wages are connected. Explain that anti-regulatory think tank titan George Gray managing the Environmental Privatization Agency‘s chemical standards and the unregulated perchlorate in half the nation‘s drinking water are connected. Explain that if we got electric cars on the road and converted to renewable and nuclear power we‘d cut green house gas emissions by 51 percent and much of the $14 to $55 billion annual health care cost of outdoor air pollution.

Putting cute little animals on the iceberg that killed Leonardo DiCaprio to get attention trivializes the importance of the issues we‘re facing. People need to see how their lives are impacted by lax environmental regulations or they won‘t put pressure on the real culprits: industry, energy and government. We want people Googling “deforestation,“ “water scarcity“ and “sustainable agriculture“ not “polar bear commercial.“ Yet that‘s what these ads do, which is why I suspect Coca-Cola is secretly behind the whole operation.

I‘ll sum up with two quotes. One: “I‘ll start taking shorter showers when developers stop getting building permits.“ That One: “We can‘t solve global warming because I fucking changed light bulbs in my house.“

Hopefully, That One will change some other things instead.

K.C. CODY will return to the differences between objectivism and the real world next year. Sad pandas can talk to his inbox at kccody@ucdavis.edu.

The streets of San Francisco may become costly for drivers.

The San Francisco County Transportation Authority recently released a study concerning the implementation of a congestion pricing plan in high-traffic areas. If put into action, the plan would charge drivers a $3 fee for driving in and out of the city’s congested areas during weekday peak-hours.

City officials considering the toll, cite reduced traffic congestion and the emission of greenhouse gases as reasons in favor of adopting the plan. The fees will go into improving the city’s public transit system as well as cycling and pedestrian pathways.

San Francisco’s downtown is extremely congested, and anything that would improve the traffic situation is worth consideration.

However, there are some problems with their logic.

This plan is unlikely to drastically reduce downtown congestion. People working in the Financial District who can already afford to drive into the city to pay and park will not stop because of a fee. Furthermore, it is doubtful that regional travelers making a special trip to San Francisco to shop at high-end retailers in Union Square will be dissuaded by the small fee.

Though it will not reduce congestion, San Francisco will still benefit from this toll, as it is ultimately a way to bring in revenue for public transportation.

While implementing new fees is never ideal, San Francisco’s public transit infrastructure is in dire need of improvements and expansion.

Many consider public transportation in California’s major cities to be subpar when compared to their European and East Coast counterparts, and San Francisco is no exception. MUNI buses are often criticized for being unkempt, unreliable and many times indirect. A trip from a residential neighborhood such as the Richmond District to downtown can be unreasonably time consuming and require multiple transfers.

Although other systems such as light rail MUNI Metro and Bay Area Rapid Transit (BART) are more efficient, they too have limitations.

The city is considering other plans including “The Double-ring,” which would charge drivers entering San Francisco at each of its gateways: Highways 101 and 280, the Golden Gate Bridge and the Bay Bridge, as well as charging an additional toll when entering the downtown area.

While tolling drivers passing through the downtown zone has its benefits, implementing such a fee on drivers for simply driving on highways over San Francisco is draconian. Residents of neighboring counties who must travel through San Francisco on the freeway as a part of their commute would suffer immensely.

For many of these commuters, a car is their only option. The idea of riding public transportation for such an extensive commute is impractical, costly and an overall waste of time. Such Northern California drivers would be slapped with a twice-daily fee in addition to the costs of gas, parking and bridge tolls.

If San Francisco wants to wean people off their cars, it has a long way to go. More funds put into public transit infrastructure is a way to start, and will greatly help the city and its residents, as well as the environment.

This is, of course, if city bureaurocrats are sure to appropriate funds to public transportation and only public transportation.

Let me just start by saying that I love finals like a fat kid loves broccoli. I know everyone just wants them to be over with, but I want Taylor Swift’s hairstylist for Christmas and we all know that ain’t gonna happen. It’s the time of the season to whine about impending doom for sure, but since you guys got tips on surviving next week on Tuesday, I thought I‘d provide the inspiration.

You see, kiddies, you do have something to live for in these black days of turmoil. You’ve just got to hold on till you reach the sunny side of the hill, to a tall proud city built on rocks stronger than oceans … oh, shit. Wrong speech.

Anywho, I’ve compiled a reminder of all that awesomeness you have to look forward to after next Friday, when you pack up your junk, catch the next car/train/Vespa out, and head off toward home.

You’ll get to see your friends. Like the ex-boyfriend who turkey-dropped you and already has a replacement girlfriend who’s still in high school and thinks he’s God cause he’s, like, in college. And your supposed BFF, who came back from college totally different. She only eats tofu, refuses to shower and most unfortunately of all, is no longer interested in hearing you rant.

Wintertime is family time. Lotsa people see the holidays as a time to reunite with every one of those wacky bastards in your gene pool. I’ve always been mildly jealous of people with big obnoxious families who like to party hardy. Perhaps the most notable of the bunch is the Drunkle – and there always seems to be one. You can always count on him to drain the scotch and steal the show when your old thrice-married windbag of an aunt is ragging on your cousins for not being married yet. He’s that one dude who may or may not even be related to you, but always manages to crash the casa since the bars are closed. He’s never been married, has no kids, and is pretty much the result of manchildren like Tom Green not getting their shit together and growing up. Drunkles are best enjoyed in small doses and will gladly buy beer for you and your friends.

You get stuff. It’s the only time someone’s gonna offer you a new Wii system or digital camera on someone else’s birthday. Or in celebration of oil that lasted a freakishly long time ages ago. Or just party cause you’re proud of your culture and history. Hopefully your aunt didn’t have to run some bitch down with a stroller for that last cashmere sweater. Of course, if your family rolls like mine, you got a stack of I.O.Us so that they could buy you whatever it was that they promised when it’s time for post-holiday sales. Hey, I understand. It’s tough times with the economy and all.

And then there’s everything else. Baker’s Square has candy cane pie, Will Smith is taking his 43rd swing at saving the world, the cold weather gives you permission to insulate yourself with a delicious layer of fat and then disguise it with an ugly sweater, you can make dirty dreidels, there’s always Festivus if you wanna mix it up and mistletoe is the perfect excuse to get all over some poor unsuspecting hottie. Basically, winter break is three lovely weeks of smooth-sailing and denial of the real world. You’re close, real close. Should you find yourself frustrated with endoplasmic reticulums, don’t forget that there’s always the fine art of the pantsless study sesh.

MICHELLE RICK will be 21 next time you hear from her. Chide her on safety precautions for this tremendous event at marick@ucdavis.edu. She’ll chide you right back with safety precautions on surviving Christmas Eve shopping at the mall, your mother’s peanut brittle and walking on rooftops as you ring in the New Year.

As the end of 2008 hovers, we reach the conclusion to a momentous and remarkable year. This year, events occurred and questions were asked, some left unanswered. What is undeniable, however, is their significance. This year can not be ignored.

The election of the first African American president

Barack Obama’s election as president of the United States doesn’t just mark the elevation of a biracial American to the highest office. Rather, it represents the fulfillment of many dreams, continuous efforts and an act.

As Richard Cohen, the Washington Post columnist, remarked, “Obama is a confirmational figure, and this election confirms what has been gradually occurring in American society ever since that July day when Johnson virtually outlawed most forms of racial segregation in America. We’ve been transforming ever since.“

It was 44 years ago that the Civil Rights Act passed. Since then, while perennial frictions and occasional distrusts have not disappeared completely, the progress has been tremendous. Attitudes have evolved and prejudices deconstructed, displaced by individual acceptance and collective unity. Consequently, America has emerged as a more tolerant, just and equal society.

Obama’s ascension is about more than overcoming our racial conflicts. But acknowledgement of its importance is necessary.

The collapse of America’s financial pride

In the past, the American financial sector towered among its peers, their success inspiring entrepreneurs, investors and business owners around the world. But the dramatic collapse of America’s financial and insurance giants – AIG, Lehman Brothers, Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, as well as the buyout of Merrill Lynch reveal fundamental weaknesses the way the industry is organized.

The reasons for the collapse were multiple and interrelated. At a broad level, the unchecked capitalism and continuous derivative speculation led to an era of corporate excess and mismanagement. In the end, these mistakes culminated in the systematic fall of all actors involved – homeowners, subprime lenders, banks, rating agencies – with rapidly dwindling home values and defaults leading to non-payment, credit freezes and unparalleled waves of layoffs.

For many around the world, the severity and immediacy of the crash corroded international confidence. More importantly, the downfall indicates structural weakness in America’s brand of capitalism.

Many lost savings, and America’s financial reputation suffered too.

The loss of the conservative movement

The conservative movement once prided itself on the gravitas and force of their ideas – President Reagan’s reactions and policies to the major threats of the 1980s, for instance, helped steer America out of hyperinflation and restored America’s sense of purpose against the communist Soviet. But the conservative ideas outlived their usefulness. As numerous socio-political and intra-national dynamics changed, Republicans clung to the past, continually advocating the same proposals in differing contexts.

Moreover, the movement grew so partisan that it no longer tolerated dissent – often the creative process that engender ideas. Christopher Buckley, son of the venerable National Review’s founder, “resigned” once he voiced support for then general election candidate Obama. Moreover, with the likes of Sean Hannity and Rush Limbaugh becoming the influential voices of the movement, pragmatic solutions were rejected for ideology. These incidents illustrate a party that lost its identity.

Unsurprisingly, voters overwhelmingly voted for a Democratic president and Congressional majority. It is a referendum on the ideals that defined America for generations.

At stake this year was the very core of American exceptionalism and it’s larger experiment. As individuals, we cannot foresee the future, only watch as events unfold. But 2008 has offered us lessons, instructions and most importantly, hope. We’ll be waiting for a new dawn with renewed promise and confidence.

ZACH HAN wishes everyone a wonderful end to an important year. Wish him back at zklhan@ucdavis.edu