Sunday, December 30, 2007

Piracy and Plagiarism

I was elated to receive the film in the “Pirates of the Caribbean” series for Christmas. Though it’s silly to admit, I’ve bought into the pirate craze. I play pirates with my boys (we even dress up). I collect Jack Sparrow memorabilia. On September 19, “Talk Like a Pirate Day,” I ‘treated’ my classes to a day of pirate lore and language. Now, I’m educated enough to know that all this is myth and fancy, that pirates were swarthy at best and certainly not a people to celebrate. Nonetheless, I find myself, for lack of a better word…hooked.

However, as smitten as I may be in my mainmast, there’s a form of piracy I have no truck with: plagiarism. This is vastly different from robbing and pillaging fellow vessels at sea. Plagiarism is the theft of ideas, and the very idea of it shivers me timbers.

I am an instructor of English Composition II, and in that capacity, I teach responsible use of credible source material. I spend hours on finding and evaluating resources, and we spend even more time insuring that all material is adequately incorporated and documented—giving a nod to the original source and inspiration of the student’s research paper. We cover other material in that course, but I consider this my greatest contribution to a student’s academic future, for they will be writing papers throughout college and then engaging in professional writing all their lives. It is my greatest contribution and also my highest duty to equip people to find good support and use it correctly.

All that said, every semester I find students who operate quite contrary to everything I hold dear. These individuals, well-versed in attributing material to its source and very well-aware of the consequences of not doing so, still cheat. I am most amazed and perturbed with those who cut and paste entire web pages to word processor, then submit the work as their own (without the least bit of editing or attention to detail). In academia, this is roughly equivalent to those “stupid criminal” reports and Darwin awards. In my class room, it is absolutely unforgivable and results in a failure in the course.

As astonishing as this may seem, students are not especially disinclined toward cheating. A recent survey reported 78% of high school students had engaged in copying, submitting others’ work as their own, or resorting to some new-fangled, high tech form of cheating employing text messaging or mobile phone photography. 75% of students in traditional classes admit they have cheated (Rowe, Cheating in Online Student Assessment: Beyond Plagiarism, 2004). Schools nationwide are finally ramping up to cope with this epidemic by recasting policy and procedure. Never one to think legislation or regulation is the answer, I am fishing for what truly may be a good fix.

To me, it seems to be a cultural issue. Not too long ago, illegal file sharing was in the news, for millions of songs were being shared via download without any royalties (the rough equivalent of acknowledgement in general) returning to the artists or industry. Even after being bombarded on the news with cases of individuals being fined and imprisoned, the practice of pirating music and other files runs rampant. People shrug it off, saying it’s no big deal and the likelihood of getting caught is minimal. I know one individual who brags that he has ‘ripped’ over 300 feature films off the Internet. One of my relatives claims to have over a gigabyte of illegally downloaded music on his mp3 player.

Even at play, our culture seems to vilify cheating. Over the holiday, I played a new board game based on a popular television show. Built right into the game were two versions of cheating, namely copying and peeking. Of course, media has always glamorized the criminal element, (like, oh, say…pirates) but when this gets so very close to the class room, and therefore my line of work, I become very attentive.

If it is a cultural phenomena, like childhood obesity, road rage, and abuse of mobile phones, then I feel it should first and best be addressed in the home. It surely should not be something that is neglected until college. Students who ‘get away with’ these practices for 20 years should not suddenly be brought to task. That makes no more sense to me than legislating the drinking age.

Education on plagiarism should begin, in my opinion, with young children. It should likely start with property rights and ownership, then progress to the ownership of ideas. Somewhere there, it seems, we all just turn a blind eye. Anyone with a patent or copyright, however, will be quick to tell you that an idea is in some ways tangible and in every way something that can be owned (and therefore stolen).

I suppose I should begin by lecturing my kids while we watch Captain Jack Sparrow stealing ships from the British Navy. I should wag a finger and nag my boys on ownership and honesty.

Maybe I will, after I watch it a few more times for fun.

Monday, December 24, 2007

Christmas Eve

WOW was the forecast whacked or what!? (See previous blog on weathermen and their "accuracy") We have had an estimated 6 inches of snow over the weekend. I was out in western Kansas driving literally through a blizzard. I had to take a back road to avoid a highway closing, and on that back road, two semi's and two cars were stranded...but by and by we made it to my mother's farm, and now we're all tucked in back at my farm north of Wichita.

My mom used to collect what she called, 'Twas poems. Maybe I should write one for her. That used to really make her happy. (It's these strange little things that seem to matter.) She smoked like a chimney in the pickup on the way here, 5 hours on the road. If anyone is unfamiliar, I quit smoking again just last May, so it was something like wagging a raw steak in front of a dog all day long. Added to my frustration, my poor two year old had to gasp for air now and again. (It's not all that bad, she did crack the window...and I grew up with a cabin full of smoke always, everywhere we travelled...but I don't like exposing my boys to such things in such concentrations.) My mom has to smoke outside, in the 6 inches of snow, when she visits my place.

I have a picture of the family all sitting smoking on the couch at some holiday. All of them are dead now, save my mother.

I don't have anything against smoking. It's anyone's right to do things to their bodies as they please. I sometimes have issue with those who have issue with public smoking, all the second hand smoke scare. My argument used to be a wave of the hand and some statement about how it's gone on for generations...however, sometimes I wonder what concentrations of chemicals, what alien substances, etc. are in modern day cigs. If everyone grew and rolled their own, I would still have little issue with it.

But, back to this holiday. . . a personal perspective from my family. I was once married to a 'serious Christian' who's family more-fully appreciated and celebrated a faith-based Christmas, a Christ mass. That was a very different experience than the commercialized one I grew up with and that is being perpetuated for my boys. I'm none-too-sure I'm sold on either way of celebrating, but I'm all about having a celebration. If nothing else, it's family time and I'm not grading papers!

It was a good time to get together, but as the matriarchs pass on, it seems families are doing more insular, more immediate holidays. I miss the celebrations featuring 40 people. I miss a lot of things, but then, I'm getting older.

This is the most random post I've made here, much more in the style of my lesser-site posts at xanga, etc. Sorry.

Monday, December 17, 2007

My modem's so slow...

How slow is it?

It's so slow, my coffee went cold while IE opened.

It's so slow, I watched a spider form a web while IE found Blogger.

It's so slow, I had time to think of all this and do a load of laundry while Blogger logged me in.

It's so slow, I grew a beard while it downloaded a file.

It's so slow, we conceived and birthed a baby before my online course opened.

(Give me a break, I'm normally pretty creative at this hour, but I've been mired in grading, complicated by non-compliant software, computers, etc.)

But seriously folks, I am on a satellite modem, not dial up. The company claims to be 30X faster than dial up. If that is true, I pity anyone on dial up. I spend hours a day on this, teaching online, and my beloved plans to become a virtual assistant. We'd better rethink such things if we cannot get better Internet access. DSL and cable have yet to thread their way to the hinterlands. Maybe HughesNet or one of the other providers of satellite access might be better? Maybe I need to have a test conducted on ours to see if there's a glitch? (Maybe I just need to quit complaining and be patient?)

Not so many years ago I sat in front of a monochromatic display of text only, teasing out articles and information from the Internet before it was so user friendly. Back then I did not mind a 10 minute lag; it gave me hang time. Maybe I should just pace myself around this primitive modem speed. Slow down and enjoy life a little.

*sigh*



That didn't help. I have grades due. The LMS for the online courses I teach shuts off at noon today, even though we have until tomorrow to submit grades! Nuts. I'd better get back to work.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Saturday, December 15, 2007

Snow Envy

WELL!
I guess I'll just have to start ignoring the weather reports. Earlier this week they forecast an inch of ice, which did not happen here. Then last night they were sure we'd get 7 inches of snow, and we barely have 3.
I can't say I envy those poor souls in Hutchinson who were layered with ice and now 7 or more inches of snow. I am glad I have my electricity and my tree limbs, too...
However, I surely do envy my buddy in Hays, KS, where they are reporting 13 inches of snow. All my remaining work for the college is at my side or online, so I say, let it snow! (I do, I suppose, have a fickle internet sat. receiver, and I might have to climb the roof with a broom if it snowed much...hmmm...)
My father used to report some impressive snowfall from his youth. He said it snowed over the cars so deeply one could only find them by the antenna...which, now that you mention it, would be a problem for many models these days w/the windshield-imbedded antenna. He claimed there were drifts so high one could sled right off the roof of the house, down a drift to the ground. Now that's some snow I could deal with.

This powderpuff stuff is just an annoyance, especially since it's virtually been promised by weathermen that it will all be gone well-before Christmas. (Which, given their track record, should mean we'll have a white Christmas!)

Back to grading. I want to get it all done so I can build snowforts with the boys in a couple days.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Advent Conspiracy: Spend less, Worship more

Regardless of your faith, you may find this engaging...I'd like to strip the holiday of consumerism!

Monday, December 10, 2007

Snow Day

I dread the dawn, and yet I cannot wait…literally, I can not wait—I went out a while ago with a flashlight to look at the ice sculptures. I’ve been amazed at tornado devastation and I’ve been belittled by sweltering heat waves. Living in Kansas, I’ve experienced most of weather’s wonders. None, however, are as marvelocious as the results of an ice storm. At once both beautiful and (for trees and travelers) deadly, these ice storms we’ve had at about 3 year intervals are quite the phenomena. I have hundreds of photos of ice art, and yet I’ve logged hundreds of hours picking up downed branches and helping people displaced by power outages. There’s little else in life so simultaneously malawesome, vileutiful, and grimorgeous. (Wordsmiths help me, I cannot quite peg this. There must be a word, or we must make one, that can embrace these extremes.)

I brace for how many branches will break.

Snow days are like February 29th or that mysteriously precious hour somewhere between springing forward and falling back. I am at once grateful, yet also adrift as if the atomic clock stopped tomming. The stark white reality of a whole day off, unexpected and uncharted, pinpricks my pupils—I squint at the awe of it. Like the blank page, it is yet unwritten, unspoken, un-done…in some ways overwhelming and yet there’s a just-rightness to it, too.

A day of grace. I am the condemned man, set to smolder in the electric chair, sated from my last hearty meal, smiling when the power goes out. I am the terminally ill patient who sloughs off my bedclothes for one more dance. I am the teacher who now can sleep, for I don’t have to make deadline to return 40 essays at dawn. (Whew)

100

Who would have thunk it?
Have I really had 100 moments to blog?
I think quitting smoking has given me more time for such things; then again, I am 7 postings behind from last year's count (still have a couple weeks to address that).

When I cruise over my entries, I am not impressed, but neither am I embarrassed, which was what I expected to feel when I first took up public blogging...then again, I have a very limited readership, so it's not so public...

As I have now managed 100 posts, I am going to now pledge to be a better blogger, a better member of the blogosphere. In that aim, I'm going to, say, write back. I'm going to post more comments. I'm going to be more engaged. Maybe I'll even get nervy enough to try a carnival or two.

If I'm going to put myself out here, I had just as well quit lurking and shirking. It's time to embrace cyberspace.

"Negligible senescence"

I failed a Gullibility Test over at the Museum of Hoaxes this morning...one of the stumpers was related to Turtles...the question (# 5) was simply: Do turtles die of old age? The answer is, no, they do not! Their feedback to my mistaken answer included the following insights, which I have fact-checked with my biologist office mate (and he has a PhD!).

Turtles exhibit what is known as 'negligible senescence.' In other words, unlike humans, they do not continue to age once their bodies reach maturity. (This, compared to many people, who reach maturity in their bodies, though their brains never do.) In theory, they might be able to live forever, though in practice this would never happen. Injury, predation, or disease eventually kill them. But turtles have been known to live beyond 150 years without exhibiting any signs of old age. Fish and amphibians also share this enviable characteristic.

I've been around nearly 1/2 a decade, and yet I've never known of this...that's what I get for nodding off in Biology. It reminds me of all the fantasy novels I've read, where some wizard or crone is 100's of years old--not so fanciful anymore, eh? I wonder if scientists have been trying to figure out a way to isolate/capture this trait, so that we might live longer/better lives? Surely so. I wonder if, as a side effect, one would smell fishy? Would it be worth it--to stink, be covered in scales, live in muck--if it meant 'eternal life' or at least a longer life? I've always shunned the healthy lifestyle crowd, since I've always been under the assumption that even the cleanest livin' can't twart old age.

If we can figure out what makes the turtle tick, however...

Sunday, December 09, 2007

What is it with KINGS?

What could be more unsettling than being awakened (or rolling over to face) the Burger King? I find this whole presence disturbing. I know he's a pop icon, a marketing sensation, an unforgettable image...in fact, I have a bobble head of him at my desk, right now.

Nonetheless, I find him to be creepy. I found a mask of the King at Walgreens this fall, and I almost purchased it. What would I have done with it, you may ask? I don't really know...mount it on the wall? Wear it in bed to freak out my wife? Commit crimes in it to defame the character of the King? Parade around all day expecting to be worshipped? (Er...scratch that....that's every day.)

I missed my chance to blog on this around Halloween, when all-things-creepy are in vogue. I suppose it came back to mind since I am in grading mode, for this is a peculiar time of year when everything creepy seems to haunt me. I get a bit edgy, giddy, and some say grumpy about this time of the academic year.
Think of the other Kings we've been exposed to in marketing... wasn't there some cereal king? I remember King Vitamin, but was that a cereal or something else?
We shall close our day feeling royal.

Saturday, December 08, 2007

Beat It, Just Beat It

I just watched a video on Drum Therapy which reminded me of all the ways I have benefitted from drumming. Though I may not have autism, dyslexia, or ADD, I do have my issues, and 'tis true: drumming seems to soothe the savage beast.

This time of year, for example, when money is tight, tensions are high, spirits are low, and grading is overwhelming--THIS is prime time for me to break out my drums and flail away. My boys love to pound on drums, sing, and dance, so I think I've made myself a resolution for this week...not only to blog daily (anyone noticed?) but also to drum daily. Maybe that will help me overcome some of what ails me this holiday.

I'll report back on this, in January.

Friday, December 07, 2007

Oceanfront property in Arizona...

I am seeking ways to capitalize on my property--that's right, I'm ready to whore out 11 acres to the most lucrative offer. This is, if you know me, contrary to my nature. I was always one to think that our most treasured possessions do not have a price. I valued my privacy, my space, my "land."



Well, I am ready to sunset such thoughts in favor of more profitable performance metrics. In other words, I've recently joined the fiscally challenged and now know I must survive.



I am eager to find any and every way to make a buck from some ground. I have 4 acres of untouched pasture, and I have another 4 acres of what seems to be ready-for-crop (like hay). I am mostly considering something like an orchard, but I know that takes eons for a return on investment.



If you are considering making a suggestion, realize that I do live in central Kansas, where the weather is unpredictable, the seasons moderate, and the soil is about average.



I told the wife it would be most profitable to raise some herb, or poppies maybe, but she just gave me that look.



I don't want to completely sell out, turning my acres into a trailer park or a puppy mill. I wish I could find some environmentally friendly and responsible ways to turn a buck. There's got to be some website with "ideas for your acres" but I've yet to find it.



Again, in the words of Stanley Johnson, "Somebody help me."

Thursday, December 06, 2007

Reality Checker



Sometimes I act more like an anthropologist than a parent.

I find the interaction between my kids and their environment to be amazing. It's equally marvelous watching them interact with one-another.

There are times, however, when I must intervene. One of them will be jumping up and down on the other's stomach, or they will be torturing the beagle, or they may get a little crazy with the Christmas lights...it's a daily challenge.

For me, the challenge is to step up and be the parent.

I really am torn on this. I notice how my 5 yr old is radically different than he was at 2 or 4, and I realize often that I've influenced his changes. He will sit quietly until a commercial now, when before he had no regard for television programming. He apologizes for farts, burps and other bodily functions that he used to revel in. He is introspective and self-loathing sometimes; other times he instructs his brothers in the ways of the world--ways I wish no one had to learn, like to beware of bullies in the play place or to question the department store Santa.

I wish I was not in the role of parent, for I often regret having enlightened my sons. I really do wish we could talk with animals or fly to the moon. I wish uncle would come play for unlimited hours and that we would not need to sleep--ever. I wish it was possible to live on a diet of pop and PBJ's.

Alas, I am all-too-often the voice of sensibility, the harbinger of hard times, bringing the reality check. "No, you can't eat the Play-dough; it might make you sick."

If I stop and think about it for too long, I can get VERY GLOOMY. To chronicle and catalog every instance of dampening their spirits--now that's depressing.

Of course, there seems no alternative. If I did not remind them to put on their shoes, they might catch cold outside. If I were to let them believe everyone on earth will love and befriend them, then sooner or later, they'll get their noses bloodied. It's my job to 'look out' for them and give them direction and advice.

It's the toughest job I've every had.

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

What's the Greatest Invention of all-time?

I know this has been done before, that the question is likely old as the Internet, but I'm seeking nominations/explanations for what might be considered the greatest invention of all-time.

Play by the rules. A good working definition of "invention" from American Heritage dictionary, for starters: Invention: 1. The act or process of inventing: used a technique of her own invention. 2. A new device, method, or process developed from study and experimentation: the phonograph, an invention attributed to Thomas Edison. 3. A mental fabrication, especially a falsehood.

Note also that the timeframe is "all-time." The "greatest" is completely up for grabs; does this mean the greatest for mankind (like the beer launching refrigerator) or for the planet, or should one employ a more esoteric "greatest"? That, my friends, is up to you.

Whet your whistle with what some seventh graders thought...ideas range from spear tips to 'marrying a princess.' (A spirited discussion follows in the comments, there, too.) Need more inspiration? Check out this site, Patent Silly, which keeps an on-going record of patents that make you go, "huh?"

I will reply to this post, myself, since I don't know the "below the fold" fancy way to manage my postings yet--with the intention of not jading your response, I may even wait a few days.

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

Seven things about me

I am constantly disclosing too much here, anyway, but I'm going to go ahead and respond to Blog Meridian's all-call for 7 random things.

1. Multiple personality/career inventory assessments in high school (even college) suggested that I become a barber. I did consider it, but I did not want to stand up all day long.

2. I spent a sleepless night sharing a motel bed with a felon once in Limon, Colorado. (Some other blog, maybe I'll recount the whole story.) In short, I was stranded, rooming with two deputized ranchers from Utah who were returning this gent from Florida (where he had fled) to Utah for sentencing. Throughout the night I had no idea what his crime had been--murder? rape? some heinous act of violence?

3. On the timeline of my life, times and choices, the bankruptcy of our family farm in 1980 was likely the biggest turning point/crisis (next to deaths of loved ones) I have ever faced. It changed everything.

4. One of my all-time favorite films is a goofy movie, "My Favorite Year," starring Peter O'Toole and Mark Linn-Baker. One scene late in the film, when Alan Swan (O'Toole) has lost his resolve, is always a tear-jerker for me (this, in a comedy). Benji Stone, (Linn-Baker) essentially tells Swan that heroes, even sensationalized silver screen ones, are essential. He says something like, "I need my heroes as big as they come."

5. As I was writing this blog post, we had a false-alarm fire drill. They do that in this building, for it is attached to a high school.

6. I spent just enough time in a coal mine (one afternoon) to conclude that it was not the job for me--Mina Esmerelda, in Mexico. We were fully-rigged out, from coveralls to those cool miner's hats with lights (they really DO come in handy), and we toured deep within a mine. Back at the surface, it took literal days to wash all the coal dust from my pores, eyes, etc. Memorable!

7. I used to eat onions like apples. We had a truck farming operation and would swap loads of cantaloupes for other fruit/vegetables raised in Texas. One winter we had a truck load of onions in our outbuilding and I developed a taste for the yellow onion. (I have since lost that taste!)

This is a good exercise; try it yourself and pass it on. Let me know where yours is posted.

Monday, December 03, 2007

Why bother?

This year, I wish there were no holiday--no xmas music, no lights, no decorations, no gifts...

I would like the time off, but otherwise, just forget about it.

I know it's good for kids to get all giddy about Santa and toys and that it's wholesome to celebrate with family. I know the whole Christian aspect of the celebration of the birth of Jesus. Considering all that, I'm sure I'll get out-voted in my household, but for me, who cares.

I'm still in my annual funk over my dad's premature death (4 yrs ago, Thanksgiving) and then I'm also swamped with grading the work of people who just want an "A" and don't care otherwise. There are finanical unmentionables that are more burdensome than all that, even, which seem to be leading to the loss of my little farm. *sigh* So while everyone else may be whistling "Deck the Halls" and guzzling eggnog, I say, I'd rather punt.

Sunday, December 02, 2007

Balance

There seems endless applications of this video to life--especially MY life about now. Watch and share!

Saturday, December 01, 2007

What matters most

I once thought the most valuable commodity was comic books. I traded my entire collection for cash, which I then spent on a locket for a girl who I had never spoken to (she had her friend give it back to me). Through that one episode, my value system was challenged, and the quake has never settled. I feel reverberations now and again, whenever I am surprised at what passes for the commodity of value de jur.

Money seemed to be the tool of trade. If I saved enough pop bottles to trade in, I could have money to buy stuff. If I gave hours of my life to riding on a tractor, I could buy the ubiquitous “stuff” that everyone else had. If I got a good price for the wheat on my acreage, I could buy a new car. It seemed to be a liquid system of value and trade, and it seemed ideal…That was, at least, until I learned it was simply paper and tokens representing value. Ah, then I discovered credit, and with that, I built empires on the sands of shifting values.

Much later, I discovered that money and credit are both just manifestations of the trade of real, tangible goods. The barter system that commerce and capitalism were built on was a trade of true goods, physical things. In my journey, I soon came to understand that reality was the stock n’ trade of a true down-to-earth value system. Some real things we depended on were becoming scarce. I had always valued (like everyone else) gold and diamonds. I thought they were rare, but eventually I learned that diamond brokers keep the stock of diamonds bottlenecked, to simulate scarcity and drive up the price.

Now it appears people are starting to do the same with other true natural resources, and at the same rate as the diamond merchants. Take oil, for example—through an ever-increasing dependence on oil, we have come to see it as an essential. You cannot eat or drink oil, but we consider it just as vital as food or water. This value system has been manipulated to the point that we now pay $100 per barrel of oil; I’ve seen it triple in my short years. The truth is, we don’t really need oil nor diamonds nor gold. We need the essentials, like food, shelter, air and water.

It is slow coming, but the attentive will realize that even these are beginning to be rationed out and attributed with cash value. As the ‘green movement’ becomes more and more vocal, so will the value system’s appreciation for air and water. Consider taxes assessed against those who pollute air; pro-rate the cost of a bottle of water to a gallon of gasoline. See? It’s already underway.

Now, this has been the long way around, but I would offer that the thinking man, the man stripped to little-more than conscience, might well even exist without any of the above, or at least with a very Spartan amount, provided he had time.

To me, or in keeping with this theme, ‘for my money,’ there is no resource to be held of a higher value than time. Again, though it may be cumbersome, I’m going to take the time here to set aside a few misconstructions. The time I am referring to is not that silly little metronomic “tick-tocking” measure we associate with clocks. Throw everything you know about these out the window, from sundials to atomic clocks—gone. The clock, and all it measures for that matter, are just our own primitive ways of trying to track time, to wrap our heads around it. Likewise, all the ridiculous ways we think we are manipulating time, from a time-out to a time change—these are not what I am referencing at all.

It’s worth noting, however, that the money changers have been drooling over time for some time. Consider the humble parking meter, doling out time for coin. I would wager that every conceivable association has been made to making time commercial, from punishing people by restricting their time in jail to prolonging one’s lifetime through exuberantly overpriced medical practices.

Philosophers and historians have had a heyday with time, offering some truly mind-bending and unanswerable questions. Was there, for instance, time before history? Can there be a history of the future? One definition cites time as the future passing through the present into the past. Once I begin to dwell on all these things, I think I maybe chose the wrong major a couple decades ago. Addressing all that philosophizing is beyond me, here and now, but worth a mental bookmark.

I would simply suggest that time, maybe “lifetime,” to keep it manageable, is something taken for granted. I foresee it as becoming more and more the object of our corporate affection (and affectations) as the baby boomers bust. As I age, a byproduct of time, I realize the value of time more and more. Now that I have my own kids, that all seems to build compound interest for me. Time cannot be contained—I know this from my toe-dip into the time continuum, the philosophies of time, and the struggles I’ve had with time management. What one can do, however, is to “bend” time.

There are theories on the hard science of the reality of this, from worm holes to quarks, but I am using my own slang here when writing of bending time. You might call it nostalgia or reflection, meditation, scrapbooking or simply remembering. To me, to bend time is to be hyper-conscious of it. Then one can almost play out a moment in slow motion, view it from multiple angles, even stop action. I am, of course, making allusions to the film industry and DVD playback features. (An aside, but a good one—see Adam Sandler’s movie Click, for it is an entire movie toying with the bending of time, and it has a great message, too.) To bend time is to acknowledge it, then also to appreciate it. Take an intentional, forced “time-out” of your own volition. See time for what it is.

I am not recommending hallucinogenic drugs nor Salvidor Dali, here. There’s no need to strum a guitar, sing Kumbaya, or spark up the hookah here. Put the needle to some vinyl and put on an old cardigan sweater, for all I care. Sing Christmas medleys with Bing Crosby, if that works for you.

I am just urging us all (myself included) to “take some time” this holiday season, appreciate one-anothers’ presence as much as the presents. Take an extra picture or two, maybe have some family time to remember days-gone-by. At a personal level, I highly recommend a visit to futureme.org, where you can send yourself an email, to be delivered to yourself at some time you designate in the future.
Bend some time, sometime, and you’ll think you lived longer, at least for a moment.