every orifice
wolf whistles and caterwauls
an incendiary song
getting thicker now
antifreeze in my marrow
blood salt sludge-melt
quartz keeps time but not mine
fields vast spanse stretch out cold
sore stiff rattletrap
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Monday, November 27, 2006
More on Food
I just heard a radio broadcast on food waste...This takes you to the transcript of an interview of the same ilk. "Tim Jones is an anthropologist from the University of Arizona and he was on The Science Show two years ago, having found that households alone, in America alone, throw away $48.3 billion worth of food each year."
Gadzooks! Pass the potatoes.
Gadzooks! Pass the potatoes.
Friday, November 24, 2006
Food...for thought.
As most read this, they are recovering from Thanksgiving feeding frenzies. Some I know had three or four Thanksgiving dinners to devour. We waddle away from these more stuffed than the turkeys we consumed. It is the season in which the guilty pleasure of gorging is soon chased with the guilt-laden advertising of dieting programs, nationwide.
What better time to share some thoughts on food!
Recently, I served up a bowl of dry dog food for my beagle, Roger. Then, I turned my attention to my kids, and poured them some cereal. As everyone was munching away, I thought that every meal should be so simple. Pour it in a bowl and eat it, same thing, every meal, just like Roger.
It also reminded me of a time, as an evil big brother, that I served my little brother a bowl of chocolate puffs cereal. I was tired of serving him breakfast, and I had a bit of a mean streak, too. I waited until he had consumed a few spoonfuls before I told him it was rabbit droppings I’d picked up around the farm before he woke up. (I can only hope my boys won’t be so mean-spirited!) I don’t know the nutritional value of rabbit droppings. I don’t even know if one could put enough sugar on them to make them tasty. I suppose the practice might be environmentally sound, but I don’t suggest it.
What I might suggest, however, is simplifying our diet. This is totally contrary to my wife’s way of thinking. She feels guilty cooking a roast, for it’s too easy. She’s a great cook, inspired by dozens of cookbooks and hours of the food channel. Maybe her way of thinking, that it has to be unique or complicated, is the status quo these days. I know she’s trying to do her best by us, serving sautéed olive skins over braised lamb’s breath sprinkled with shavings of mango or whatever…but truly, it doesn’t have to be a production to be nutritious.
Reminder: I was a bachelor for the better part of twenty years. For me, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were complicated. I often ate cereal for meals, right out of the box. A sack of potatoes offered me a week of meals. I was not one to shun prepared foods, either. I ate my weight in fast food weekly. I did not recognize food if it did not have to first be unwrapped and micro-waved. One of my greatest garage sale finds of all time was a case of military-issue Meals Ready to Eat (MRE’s). To my way of thinking, to this day, SPAM is the ultimate food product. (It is fun to carve into exotic shapes, too.)
Now, I grew up on a dirt farm, and we produced a great deal of grain. Back then, I thought it was only for livestock. I came to marvel at the annual Home Products Dinner held in my hometown, for they had baked bread from the grain of our ground. They had even made donuts out of sorghum. I learned all manner of corn and grain could be popped. When attending Kansas State University, I toured a facility that turned grain into cheese puffs. Finally, I truly understood: grain really was food!
Interestingly enough, I have since learned that most people on the planet live on a diet of grain products. It’s not just for livestock or cheese puffs. Even a review of the food pyramid suggests a healthy portion of breads, cereals, etc. While a diet exclusively grain-based may not be entirely healthy, it is at least more simple.
Of all the cookbooks in our kitchen, I most admire a couple published by the Mennonites, the “More with Less” series. Sensitive to global inequities in food availability and distribution, aware of the massive environmental footprint left by the diet of the northern hemisphere, rooted in the agrarian tradition of their faith, these ladies put together one heck of a cookbook. It features traditional meals, like those we just enjoyed, but it puts a focus on grain-heavy diets.
My wife and I go round-and-round about this. I say, let’s eat cracked wheat. She says, what about the children? I know it’s never going to go my way, that even if we did have cracked wheat, it would be sprinkled over something exotic. I wouldn’t even suggest a grain-heavy diet to anyone, let alone a vegetarian course. (Area ranchers would shoot me on sight.)
I would say, however, that after our annual pig out, maybe it would be okay to take it easy, to eat more simply. There are actually “movements” afoot to encourage us to slow down and eat whole meals at the kitchen table. One such activist group is Slow Food, USA. They argue that “industrialization of food was standardizing taste and leading to the annihilation of thousands of food varieties and flavors.” Who could argue with preserving food and flavor! They advocate gardening, farmer’s markets, less processed and more simple meals.
That all still seems like a lot of work, but I like the idea of slow food. If I were still a bachelor, I’d support the cause. I’d slowly masticate nothing but potatoes from New Year’s to Thanksgiving, then get my fill of all the good stuff.
What better time to share some thoughts on food!
Recently, I served up a bowl of dry dog food for my beagle, Roger. Then, I turned my attention to my kids, and poured them some cereal. As everyone was munching away, I thought that every meal should be so simple. Pour it in a bowl and eat it, same thing, every meal, just like Roger.
It also reminded me of a time, as an evil big brother, that I served my little brother a bowl of chocolate puffs cereal. I was tired of serving him breakfast, and I had a bit of a mean streak, too. I waited until he had consumed a few spoonfuls before I told him it was rabbit droppings I’d picked up around the farm before he woke up. (I can only hope my boys won’t be so mean-spirited!) I don’t know the nutritional value of rabbit droppings. I don’t even know if one could put enough sugar on them to make them tasty. I suppose the practice might be environmentally sound, but I don’t suggest it.
What I might suggest, however, is simplifying our diet. This is totally contrary to my wife’s way of thinking. She feels guilty cooking a roast, for it’s too easy. She’s a great cook, inspired by dozens of cookbooks and hours of the food channel. Maybe her way of thinking, that it has to be unique or complicated, is the status quo these days. I know she’s trying to do her best by us, serving sautéed olive skins over braised lamb’s breath sprinkled with shavings of mango or whatever…but truly, it doesn’t have to be a production to be nutritious.
Reminder: I was a bachelor for the better part of twenty years. For me, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were complicated. I often ate cereal for meals, right out of the box. A sack of potatoes offered me a week of meals. I was not one to shun prepared foods, either. I ate my weight in fast food weekly. I did not recognize food if it did not have to first be unwrapped and micro-waved. One of my greatest garage sale finds of all time was a case of military-issue Meals Ready to Eat (MRE’s). To my way of thinking, to this day, SPAM is the ultimate food product. (It is fun to carve into exotic shapes, too.)
Now, I grew up on a dirt farm, and we produced a great deal of grain. Back then, I thought it was only for livestock. I came to marvel at the annual Home Products Dinner held in my hometown, for they had baked bread from the grain of our ground. They had even made donuts out of sorghum. I learned all manner of corn and grain could be popped. When attending Kansas State University, I toured a facility that turned grain into cheese puffs. Finally, I truly understood: grain really was food!
Interestingly enough, I have since learned that most people on the planet live on a diet of grain products. It’s not just for livestock or cheese puffs. Even a review of the food pyramid suggests a healthy portion of breads, cereals, etc. While a diet exclusively grain-based may not be entirely healthy, it is at least more simple.
Of all the cookbooks in our kitchen, I most admire a couple published by the Mennonites, the “More with Less” series. Sensitive to global inequities in food availability and distribution, aware of the massive environmental footprint left by the diet of the northern hemisphere, rooted in the agrarian tradition of their faith, these ladies put together one heck of a cookbook. It features traditional meals, like those we just enjoyed, but it puts a focus on grain-heavy diets.
My wife and I go round-and-round about this. I say, let’s eat cracked wheat. She says, what about the children? I know it’s never going to go my way, that even if we did have cracked wheat, it would be sprinkled over something exotic. I wouldn’t even suggest a grain-heavy diet to anyone, let alone a vegetarian course. (Area ranchers would shoot me on sight.)
I would say, however, that after our annual pig out, maybe it would be okay to take it easy, to eat more simply. There are actually “movements” afoot to encourage us to slow down and eat whole meals at the kitchen table. One such activist group is Slow Food, USA. They argue that “industrialization of food was standardizing taste and leading to the annihilation of thousands of food varieties and flavors.” Who could argue with preserving food and flavor! They advocate gardening, farmer’s markets, less processed and more simple meals.
That all still seems like a lot of work, but I like the idea of slow food. If I were still a bachelor, I’d support the cause. I’d slowly masticate nothing but potatoes from New Year’s to Thanksgiving, then get my fill of all the good stuff.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Mortality Morality
On this day, almost to the hour, three years ago...I had my last conversation with my dad. It wasn't an especially good conversation, for I was gruff. My parents had skipped my son's first birthday party the week previous, and I was in no mood to hear about western kansas, Agrigas meter service, snow over the door handles on the pickups, etc...I was in no mood to negotiate visiting over Thanksgiving at some hotel buffet again, either. I was cloudy, thinking how unlike the Cleavers we were, and how very much I wanted a Rockwellian holiday, just once.
Then, Wednesday morning at the same phone, a call came in. I was the only one on campus, it was a fluke that the phone would even ring on the holiday break. Out of curiosity, I picked up, only to talk to someone from the Ulysses PD, who shared the bad news: my dad had died in his sleep.
I think that was the moment, more than any before/since, that I wished I could control time, that I could TIVO back just two days and have that conversation all over again. Sure, we said the perfunctory "Love 'ya" as always. Sure, he didn't likely even know I was unhappy with him...but if I could re-do that conversation, it would be so very different.
Of course, that is just a fantasy. The reality is that in life there are no do-overs. That one change, my dad's passing, has likely affected me more than any other single event in my timeline. More than getting married. More than having kids. More than flunking out of college. More than asking my best friend to shoot me with a .30 caliber rifle when wearing a kevlar vest....Since that one event, my career changed twice, my residence changed three times, and my outlook has never quite quit revolving around the presence of the present. (For that matter, the present [gift] of the present.)
Sometimes I forget, like everyone else, and just take time and life for granted. There are moments which pass that I still reflect on with regret. For the most part, however, I try to now live as if this moment, these people, this presence, may never recur. Days like this, milestones like headstones, remind me.
I'll never quite know if my dad saw it coming. He was in good health, had quit smoking and he was exercising daily. He'd had a full physical just a month before, and he'd passed with flying colors. Somehow, however, tracking back through his notes, journals, files, etc...I think he was privvy to the reaper's knock. He had become somewhat obsessed with the idea of not only capturing family geneology, but also family history, particularly stories. He had commissioned my wife and I to gather up all the Jarvis family anecdotes by video and audio, and to then link them to 'fruits' hanging from the family tree. Sadly, that idea has not gone past his dream of it...but it suggests that he, at least, understood mortality and wanted to preserve a little something.
I tried following in his footsteps. I even moved back to Western Kansas and took over his estate, his business, and the care of his wife, dogs, property, bills, etc. I was so resolute in that effort that I bought a house there before I even had quit my job back at Cowley.
I learned that wasn't really healthy for me. I'm not him. I don't like it out there, and I didn't like his business. I wanted to preserve the farmstead that had been my father's and his father's before him...but it's just not the same, anyway.
Now, I have a good life, and I'm a much different person than I was 3 years ago. I'd like to show him around the farm I own, set a grandkid on his knee, swap stories, tell lies...and in my head and heart, I suppose I do.
Then, Wednesday morning at the same phone, a call came in. I was the only one on campus, it was a fluke that the phone would even ring on the holiday break. Out of curiosity, I picked up, only to talk to someone from the Ulysses PD, who shared the bad news: my dad had died in his sleep.
I think that was the moment, more than any before/since, that I wished I could control time, that I could TIVO back just two days and have that conversation all over again. Sure, we said the perfunctory "Love 'ya" as always. Sure, he didn't likely even know I was unhappy with him...but if I could re-do that conversation, it would be so very different.
Of course, that is just a fantasy. The reality is that in life there are no do-overs. That one change, my dad's passing, has likely affected me more than any other single event in my timeline. More than getting married. More than having kids. More than flunking out of college. More than asking my best friend to shoot me with a .30 caliber rifle when wearing a kevlar vest....Since that one event, my career changed twice, my residence changed three times, and my outlook has never quite quit revolving around the presence of the present. (For that matter, the present [gift] of the present.)
Sometimes I forget, like everyone else, and just take time and life for granted. There are moments which pass that I still reflect on with regret. For the most part, however, I try to now live as if this moment, these people, this presence, may never recur. Days like this, milestones like headstones, remind me.
I'll never quite know if my dad saw it coming. He was in good health, had quit smoking and he was exercising daily. He'd had a full physical just a month before, and he'd passed with flying colors. Somehow, however, tracking back through his notes, journals, files, etc...I think he was privvy to the reaper's knock. He had become somewhat obsessed with the idea of not only capturing family geneology, but also family history, particularly stories. He had commissioned my wife and I to gather up all the Jarvis family anecdotes by video and audio, and to then link them to 'fruits' hanging from the family tree. Sadly, that idea has not gone past his dream of it...but it suggests that he, at least, understood mortality and wanted to preserve a little something.
I tried following in his footsteps. I even moved back to Western Kansas and took over his estate, his business, and the care of his wife, dogs, property, bills, etc. I was so resolute in that effort that I bought a house there before I even had quit my job back at Cowley.
I learned that wasn't really healthy for me. I'm not him. I don't like it out there, and I didn't like his business. I wanted to preserve the farmstead that had been my father's and his father's before him...but it's just not the same, anyway.
Now, I have a good life, and I'm a much different person than I was 3 years ago. I'd like to show him around the farm I own, set a grandkid on his knee, swap stories, tell lies...and in my head and heart, I suppose I do.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Personal Responsibility
"Personal responsibility" seems a rare breed, an endangered species. The phrase is composed of two words I used to put in contrast: "personal" for me, was my business; "responsibility" was just an obscenity, so far as I was concerned, for it implied some degree of potential blame...and maturity, ownership, and accountability to Others. Until recently, I would flee from responsibility if ever I could, only accepting it to whatever degree I absolutely had to in order to function in civilization.
That was my take on it. Then I became a parent, and apparently, that changed everything. Now I own-up to being responsible. I know my kids will succeed to the degree I equip them. I know I must earn a living and be accountable (you know, keep office hours, pay taxes, eat regularly, etc) when before I fashioned myself as something of an outlaw misfit doing my own thing. From what I've been observing of others since my change in character and perspective, I'm not so convinced that even parenthood endues everyone with personal responsibility.
I've written before about frivolous lawsuits and the litigious nature of our culture. I've come to agree with conservatives like Glenn Beck on at least this one issue: people don't take responsibility for anything. Does there need to be a warning label on a bag of marshmallows that tells us not to eat the whole bag? Does a bar tender bear the burden of responsibility for someone drinking him- or herself silly? Should McDonald's be held liable for some dunce spilling hot coffee on herself?
I am on this topic at this time in the term for I know what is about to happen: whining. Students who have not, say, bothered to come to class regularly are all-the-sudden conscientious, studious, respectful (Eddie Haskells) and pleading for some extra credit, some reconsideration, some break. Later, a few who are issued a grade they don't particularly like will contest it through official channels, insisting it was not what they earned. (This seldom happens in my classes, but it isn't uncommon on a campus.) All too often, I have yielded, negotiated, and in many ways compromised. Not that I've compromised with the student, but I've compromised my standards.
Of this, I say, no more. (There, it's documented here for me to reflect over later.) Just when did school come to be the place to teach wiley negotiation, anyway? For that matter, is it even our responsibility to teach responsibility? Shouldn't it simply be expected, like it should be in the workforce? I have a feeling that low expectations, all-around, have created this lack of responsibility.
When I was in college, if I did not show up, I knew I was a *uck up, and I took what came my way. Sure, that caused something of a checkered transcript, and I did retake about $6,000 worth of courses, but that was my fault. I was the one who decided to skip, not do homework, refuse to dissect something, sleep in, go to the lake...drop out. I had a choice, I was paying the bills, and I bore the brunt of what I had decided to do.
When I taught technical writing, I had absolutely no mercy. I was supposedly training would-be engineers on workplace expectations. I led the class like an employer. Expectations were high, and achievement was equally high. (Of course, they were on their last semester of a Bachelor's degree and already contracting for jobs that paid several times what I earned, so they had extrinsic motivation!)
That may not work for me here at the community college (note, I did not say Juco!) Instead, I have a new plan to implement: zero tolerance for absences, absolutely no late work, and absolutely no extra credit. I'll keep the policy that work can be submitted in advance of known absences and that anticipated absences (or absences excused by the institution) can be dealt with in advance. I'll have some kind of 'personal hardship' clause, to compensate for sudden deaths among family, etc. Otherwise, I'll front everyone a set amount of points (resembling sick leave). If they expend those points on material not submitted, etc. then it's gone. If, come the end of the term, enough of those points remain in their 'account' then they do not have to take my final exam. (Truth is, that's still extra credit, underneath it all, but it's going to save me an enormous amount of bookwork.)
Maybe that will thwart the whiners next semester.
Back to reality, outside the ivy walls of academia...personal responsibility is a bitter pill, a big burden. No wonder so very many people are repelled by it. By contrast, it seems so much easier to blame others, to litigate against others, to milk some corporate cash cow. The effects of this are far reaching, and all too often, these effects are reaching into my pocket (and no, it doesn't tickle). Medical and insurance rates are high, taxes go higher, and sometimes simple fear is stratospheric. For example, some schools no longer go on field trips. Some churches no longer do 'high risk' fundraisers like car washes. Even teachers must fear the litigious reaper--'heard of "academic negligence" or "educational malpractice" yet? If not, you will!
Just today, an employee of a major toy company told us of a situation I found incredulous. She works a customer complaint line. Someone called her, raised hell with her, for the caller had cut himself when attempting to open her company's toy. (To this point, I could sympathize with the caller, for I spent last weekend struggling with wires and tabs and bangles and what's-it's, just to remove my son's toys from their cartons.) He threatened, then, to sue her company. Result? the policy is that her company is to make every conciliatory effort to appease the customer. Her company paid damages, his medical bills, and something of an out-of-court settlement for the grievous affect the whole affair plagued him with.
Here's the kicker: that man had been opening said toy boxes with a steak knife. There was not warning on the box, he had said, that suggested he might use, say, a nail file or pen knife. Nothing warning him that steak knives, meat cleavers, chain saws or blow torches might endanger him, should he consider using them to open said box.
(Apologies to Genesis): This is the world we live in. This is the hand we're given (unless say, we cut it off with a wild steak knife). I say it's high time we start trying to make it a world worth living in. Maybe the first step is to own up to our own screw ups.
It's a personal goal. It's an instructional goal to impart on my students. It's a goal I have in parenting, too. Already, I tell my kid, "Hey, you have the choice here, pal. You can poop your pants and clean it up, or you can be a big boy and use the stool." If he's figuring it out, maybe everyone else can, too. (?)
That was my take on it. Then I became a parent, and apparently, that changed everything. Now I own-up to being responsible. I know my kids will succeed to the degree I equip them. I know I must earn a living and be accountable (you know, keep office hours, pay taxes, eat regularly, etc) when before I fashioned myself as something of an outlaw misfit doing my own thing. From what I've been observing of others since my change in character and perspective, I'm not so convinced that even parenthood endues everyone with personal responsibility.
I've written before about frivolous lawsuits and the litigious nature of our culture. I've come to agree with conservatives like Glenn Beck on at least this one issue: people don't take responsibility for anything. Does there need to be a warning label on a bag of marshmallows that tells us not to eat the whole bag? Does a bar tender bear the burden of responsibility for someone drinking him- or herself silly? Should McDonald's be held liable for some dunce spilling hot coffee on herself?
I am on this topic at this time in the term for I know what is about to happen: whining. Students who have not, say, bothered to come to class regularly are all-the-sudden conscientious, studious, respectful (Eddie Haskells) and pleading for some extra credit, some reconsideration, some break. Later, a few who are issued a grade they don't particularly like will contest it through official channels, insisting it was not what they earned. (This seldom happens in my classes, but it isn't uncommon on a campus.) All too often, I have yielded, negotiated, and in many ways compromised. Not that I've compromised with the student, but I've compromised my standards.
Of this, I say, no more. (There, it's documented here for me to reflect over later.) Just when did school come to be the place to teach wiley negotiation, anyway? For that matter, is it even our responsibility to teach responsibility? Shouldn't it simply be expected, like it should be in the workforce? I have a feeling that low expectations, all-around, have created this lack of responsibility.
When I was in college, if I did not show up, I knew I was a *uck up, and I took what came my way. Sure, that caused something of a checkered transcript, and I did retake about $6,000 worth of courses, but that was my fault. I was the one who decided to skip, not do homework, refuse to dissect something, sleep in, go to the lake...drop out. I had a choice, I was paying the bills, and I bore the brunt of what I had decided to do.
When I taught technical writing, I had absolutely no mercy. I was supposedly training would-be engineers on workplace expectations. I led the class like an employer. Expectations were high, and achievement was equally high. (Of course, they were on their last semester of a Bachelor's degree and already contracting for jobs that paid several times what I earned, so they had extrinsic motivation!)
That may not work for me here at the community college (note, I did not say Juco!) Instead, I have a new plan to implement: zero tolerance for absences, absolutely no late work, and absolutely no extra credit. I'll keep the policy that work can be submitted in advance of known absences and that anticipated absences (or absences excused by the institution) can be dealt with in advance. I'll have some kind of 'personal hardship' clause, to compensate for sudden deaths among family, etc. Otherwise, I'll front everyone a set amount of points (resembling sick leave). If they expend those points on material not submitted, etc. then it's gone. If, come the end of the term, enough of those points remain in their 'account' then they do not have to take my final exam. (Truth is, that's still extra credit, underneath it all, but it's going to save me an enormous amount of bookwork.)
Maybe that will thwart the whiners next semester.
Back to reality, outside the ivy walls of academia...personal responsibility is a bitter pill, a big burden. No wonder so very many people are repelled by it. By contrast, it seems so much easier to blame others, to litigate against others, to milk some corporate cash cow. The effects of this are far reaching, and all too often, these effects are reaching into my pocket (and no, it doesn't tickle). Medical and insurance rates are high, taxes go higher, and sometimes simple fear is stratospheric. For example, some schools no longer go on field trips. Some churches no longer do 'high risk' fundraisers like car washes. Even teachers must fear the litigious reaper--'heard of "academic negligence" or "educational malpractice" yet? If not, you will!
Just today, an employee of a major toy company told us of a situation I found incredulous. She works a customer complaint line. Someone called her, raised hell with her, for the caller had cut himself when attempting to open her company's toy. (To this point, I could sympathize with the caller, for I spent last weekend struggling with wires and tabs and bangles and what's-it's, just to remove my son's toys from their cartons.) He threatened, then, to sue her company. Result? the policy is that her company is to make every conciliatory effort to appease the customer. Her company paid damages, his medical bills, and something of an out-of-court settlement for the grievous affect the whole affair plagued him with.
Here's the kicker: that man had been opening said toy boxes with a steak knife. There was not warning on the box, he had said, that suggested he might use, say, a nail file or pen knife. Nothing warning him that steak knives, meat cleavers, chain saws or blow torches might endanger him, should he consider using them to open said box.
(Apologies to Genesis): This is the world we live in. This is the hand we're given (unless say, we cut it off with a wild steak knife). I say it's high time we start trying to make it a world worth living in. Maybe the first step is to own up to our own screw ups.
It's a personal goal. It's an instructional goal to impart on my students. It's a goal I have in parenting, too. Already, I tell my kid, "Hey, you have the choice here, pal. You can poop your pants and clean it up, or you can be a big boy and use the stool." If he's figuring it out, maybe everyone else can, too. (?)
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Let the Devil in the Door
Another parenting threshold stumbled over--this time: video games. Yes, my 4 year old was given a video game for his birthday last weekend. No hard feelings, cousins who gifted him with this, but you must know (should you ever read this blog) that I am mortified.
Will this some day be my child's fate?
I know not all gamers are geeks (or worse). I know that many have avid gaming interests and are still interactive, socially conscious human beings. I also know, however, too much about the industry, the dark side, the evil-doers!
Even at the most fundamental, gaming can rob a family of togetherness, and I treasure that very highly. So, we had our first 'family meeting' last night. I explained to mom and the 1 and 4 yr olds that I had, admittedly, lost the battle on the abuse of television in my household. I had, in addition, contributed to other infringements on our time together. However, I firmly asserted, with plugging in this video game, there would be some rules: 1)Never play alone 2)Never play more than 30 minutes a day. Well, we'll see how it goes. I just wanted to document here that I had made some effort to stop what I anticipate will be a tidal flow of media influence and infringement in our home. There, I tried.
Will this some day be my child's fate?
I know not all gamers are geeks (or worse). I know that many have avid gaming interests and are still interactive, socially conscious human beings. I also know, however, too much about the industry, the dark side, the evil-doers!
Even at the most fundamental, gaming can rob a family of togetherness, and I treasure that very highly. So, we had our first 'family meeting' last night. I explained to mom and the 1 and 4 yr olds that I had, admittedly, lost the battle on the abuse of television in my household. I had, in addition, contributed to other infringements on our time together. However, I firmly asserted, with plugging in this video game, there would be some rules: 1)Never play alone 2)Never play more than 30 minutes a day. Well, we'll see how it goes. I just wanted to document here that I had made some effort to stop what I anticipate will be a tidal flow of media influence and infringement in our home. There, I tried.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Jane! Help, Jane!
Another guilt entry...maybe I need some kind of medication or something! Anyway, I just had a stimulating conversation with a student who's term project is on multi-lingual education. She shared results of studies that reinforce what we all know: kids learn very well when very young, then gradually have a harder time of it. Her project recommends teaching kids langages from birth. (A friend of mine taught her sons simple sign language, and they were communicating a year before they could articulate in words.)
Results of that study are compounded for me, right now, by a book I'm reading, Possessing Genius: The True Account of the Bizarre Odyssey of Einstein's Brain.
(It's a very fascinating account, btw, of not only the travels of his post-mortem brain, but also of the brain's development, etc...and I only paid a buck for it! Get yours at the Chisolm Trail
Back to guilt. I currently have two boys, ages 1 and (as of Friday) 4 years old. We do something of an above-average job of exposing them to good stuff, nurturing them, etc...however, we could do more. The window of opportunity for loading their potent little brains is already closing! Birth to 3 is the era of greatest development and learning for life. My oldest is already getting too old! It really gives me a sense of urgency.
So here I go: I think our world is topsy-turvy. I've finally developed priorities and principles, in my 40's, and this life does not reflect them. Okay, I suppose I value education, communication, critical thinking, an informed electorate, and thus, my job is not inconsistent with the above. However, none of that is a high priority.
At the top of my list, being a person of spirit, would be to have something of a spiritually driven life. Alas, it ain't there. Like eating right and getting enough sleep, somehow I must just figure the spirit can wait.
Next is my family, and sure, I get to spend more time with them than most folk I know; however, it's not enough and it's not high-octane. There should never even be a question of my love/loyalty, never a doubt, but when I'm not there, or when I hush someone so I can hear a news broadcast (or worse, a gag in a sitcom or some cruicial 'fact' in a crime drama)...when I act like that, where's my priority then? eh?
Somewhere high on my priority list is the well-being of my boys, and I do so very little to make'em smart.
Our culture does not prioritize these things. I've figured out why: you can't make money from it. Also, you can't manipulate people who live by principle, so 'best to keep them running. Ralph Ellison (just to get all literary for a second), in "The Invisible Man" as I recall, had an administrator passing word to a subsequent administrator regarding the main character. The note said (quoting, not to step on anyone's sensitivities here): "Keep that Nigger boy running." This is exactly what we are all doing to this day. We are so busily running on the treadmill or hamster wheel, we do not take time to live right, think right, be right. (This is to say nothing of 'righteous' btw, just plain right.)
I used to think, when I took the time, that this was some sinister, corporate plot. I'm not so inclined to believe it is, anymore. Like water, I think we all have a tendency to take the path of least resistance. We go with the flow. Sure, consumerism in America would suffer if we slowed down, but I really don't know that there is any (published or otherwise) plan/agenda to keep us fleet-of-feet.
Like George Jetson, sometimes I find myself screaming, "Jane! Help! Jane, get me off of this thing!"
Stop the bus, I want to get off.
If our culture really lived by values, 'family values' if you must, then wouldn't we, say, work like dogs for 20 years before having kids, saving all our money, then just clock out for 20 years, to be there for them as they grew? If not 20 years, some variation on the theme? In some parts of Europe, both parents get leave of up to three years when a child is born. Why not here? (Why didn't I plan for that? Because until I had kids, I didn't get it and I was selfish.)
I am not a single parent in school working two jobs. Nonetheless, like them, I feel my lifestyle is robbing me of my life, of being there and doing the best by my kids. I love my job, but I so wish I could do it from home, or somehow find a way to minimize my time away from the fam. This is all a cultural creation; one could clearly track its origins to the industrial revolution. Knowing that (and more) does not make the situation any more palatable. Not at all.
I'm going to cook something up on this. I'm going to beat the system. I just hope I can get it figured out before my boys have their own children!
Monday, November 06, 2006
A Peek at Peak Oil
Adjust your sphincter for this one!
Here I've been forewarning of the problems of prosperity, of profiteering, of media manipulation...and all along, it would seem, I've been fearful of trivial pursuits, rather than a bigger issue: peak oil.
I suggest you google or Utube the topic. Don't take my word for it.
Sources have long predicted that our oil supply is in peril. I can actually remember this from back in the 1970's. What I did not recall was a particularly chilling date range for the decline of our reserves. Some are now predicting it will dry up w/n the next 40 years. Now, maybe I didn't care back in the 70's (for a variety of reasons, not limited to youthful indestructability), but I care now. Though I may not be alive in 40 years, I bet my boys will be.
The sad thing, to me, is that this issue seems much like global warming, politics in general, etc...how is an individual to address it? I can no sooner stop global warming by recycling than I can make the political system honest with my vote tomorrow. I'd guess I'm not alone in feeling overwhelmed by the doom/gloom and the microscopic difference I might make.
Lately, however, I've been talking w/my wife about living by principles. If a person were to truly do that (an aware, enlightened person), then it wouldn't matter if that individual's impact would really affect the big picture. It would matter solely to him/her. That noted, perhaps I need to begin living by principle (see Prosperity entry) and not by denial.
There are respectable movements afoot, including relocalizing, which I find admirable if not a little hard to practice. I've spoken with like-minded friends for twenty years about some kind of alternative community. Last year I was on a kick of Tiny Houses, and I still am entertaining that (even as we are trying to build on to our current home to better accommodate 3 kids and a scrapbooking hobby). All of this seems better than simply wringing one's hands.
...and that's just the beginning. I know full-well that smoking is killing me, yet I do it, even aware that it supports a giant, heartless corporate empire all-the-while. I also eat fast food and prepared food packed with nastiness. Even when I eat well, I eat like an American, packing it in and moving to the living room television altar all-too-soon. I should, instead, be living the SlowFood lifestyle, and I know it!
AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
It all goes back to me being rather too black/white, an absolutist. It drives family and friends crazy. I am seeking informed advice on how to cope with reality from you, gentle reader. What is one to DO in light of all the doom and gloom? How is one to sleep at night, feeling as if one's principles are intact? I seem never to be able to simply settle on 'good enough,' and that leaves me (when I allow myself to slow down and entertain ideas) very disappointed in myself. How can I feel I lead a good model for my kids, after all?
Your thoughts are coveted.
Here I've been forewarning of the problems of prosperity, of profiteering, of media manipulation...and all along, it would seem, I've been fearful of trivial pursuits, rather than a bigger issue: peak oil.
I suggest you google or Utube the topic. Don't take my word for it.
Sources have long predicted that our oil supply is in peril. I can actually remember this from back in the 1970's. What I did not recall was a particularly chilling date range for the decline of our reserves. Some are now predicting it will dry up w/n the next 40 years. Now, maybe I didn't care back in the 70's (for a variety of reasons, not limited to youthful indestructability), but I care now. Though I may not be alive in 40 years, I bet my boys will be.
The sad thing, to me, is that this issue seems much like global warming, politics in general, etc...how is an individual to address it? I can no sooner stop global warming by recycling than I can make the political system honest with my vote tomorrow. I'd guess I'm not alone in feeling overwhelmed by the doom/gloom and the microscopic difference I might make.
Lately, however, I've been talking w/my wife about living by principles. If a person were to truly do that (an aware, enlightened person), then it wouldn't matter if that individual's impact would really affect the big picture. It would matter solely to him/her. That noted, perhaps I need to begin living by principle (see Prosperity entry) and not by denial.
There are respectable movements afoot, including relocalizing, which I find admirable if not a little hard to practice. I've spoken with like-minded friends for twenty years about some kind of alternative community. Last year I was on a kick of Tiny Houses, and I still am entertaining that (even as we are trying to build on to our current home to better accommodate 3 kids and a scrapbooking hobby). All of this seems better than simply wringing one's hands.
...and that's just the beginning. I know full-well that smoking is killing me, yet I do it, even aware that it supports a giant, heartless corporate empire all-the-while. I also eat fast food and prepared food packed with nastiness. Even when I eat well, I eat like an American, packing it in and moving to the living room television altar all-too-soon. I should, instead, be living the SlowFood lifestyle, and I know it!
AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
It all goes back to me being rather too black/white, an absolutist. It drives family and friends crazy. I am seeking informed advice on how to cope with reality from you, gentle reader. What is one to DO in light of all the doom and gloom? How is one to sleep at night, feeling as if one's principles are intact? I seem never to be able to simply settle on 'good enough,' and that leaves me (when I allow myself to slow down and entertain ideas) very disappointed in myself. How can I feel I lead a good model for my kids, after all?
Your thoughts are coveted.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Umph...missed that holiday.
Halloween has been a favorite holiday of mine since I was a young'un. This year, however, I was out sick. Didn't get to dress up. Didn't get to attend a single haunt. Didn't pass out candy. Didn't get to trick/treat w/my kids. *Sigh*
Like most celebrations, events, etc. in our culture, Halloween has become big business. I'm not going to cite facts here, but trust me, it's worth your investigation. I was part of the 'haunt industry' for a couple of years, 'was even swapping email and online chat jabber with some of the biggest names in the fright business. It is a fascinating field, and what's most fascinating about it to me now is that behind most large commercial haunted houses stands...not some geeky creep who wears face paint year'round...but a business man/woman. It takes a business minded individual to keep the turnstile turning, the cost-per-scare reasonable, and the promotional dollars balanced with the gallons of fake blood. (That, of course, would be a factor in why Toxic Terror, my haunted enterprise, is no-more. Actually, there's a lot to why Toxic Terror had a meltdown, not the least, the fact that I left for western kansas.) A haunt manager must also have a characteristic that makes them distinctly different from other entrepreneurs: sadism. At least some degree of a haunt manager's thinking must always be on how to freak out the customers in new and gruesome ways. (There again, I have a degree of wickedness, but I just don't think I ever had the constitution to creep people out as they would need.)
I digress. Actually, I don't know what I was writing about here, except a general lamentation that I missed Halloween.
Like most celebrations, events, etc. in our culture, Halloween has become big business. I'm not going to cite facts here, but trust me, it's worth your investigation. I was part of the 'haunt industry' for a couple of years, 'was even swapping email and online chat jabber with some of the biggest names in the fright business. It is a fascinating field, and what's most fascinating about it to me now is that behind most large commercial haunted houses stands...not some geeky creep who wears face paint year'round...but a business man/woman. It takes a business minded individual to keep the turnstile turning, the cost-per-scare reasonable, and the promotional dollars balanced with the gallons of fake blood. (That, of course, would be a factor in why Toxic Terror, my haunted enterprise, is no-more. Actually, there's a lot to why Toxic Terror had a meltdown, not the least, the fact that I left for western kansas.) A haunt manager must also have a characteristic that makes them distinctly different from other entrepreneurs: sadism. At least some degree of a haunt manager's thinking must always be on how to freak out the customers in new and gruesome ways. (There again, I have a degree of wickedness, but I just don't think I ever had the constitution to creep people out as they would need.)
I digress. Actually, I don't know what I was writing about here, except a general lamentation that I missed Halloween.
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