Resolved

Resolutions are made to be broken, they say, but here are a few of mine for 2011, the last year we have to share before the world ends...

go to the Y regularly and get fit; already have appts with personal trainer, enrolling family in classes, aiming myself at swimming lessons and lap pool participation (going to join the 100 mile club)

get over apnea, the sleeping killer; I have this in aces, and the doctor and diagnostic guy said mine was severe...supposedly it's affecting my energy, concentration, and about everything else about my life (my salary?)

be a better...husband, father, teacher, farmer, steward...just be better (continuous and never-ending improvement)

recycle, for we currently put four 30 gallon trash barrels in the landfill weekly around here!

attempt to write for publication, maybe for profit--how many decades has this been on my list? now the 8 of you following me can kick me in the pants now and then

read with intention--I read a lot, about a novel a week, but it's just candy. I need to read classics again, or at least literary magazines. I'm not sure about the quantity or objective just now, but it's something on my list.

parent better--I've improved my percentage in the homeschooling of my kids, but I need to do other parenting more purposefully, too

There are many more, many unpublishables, too....maybe I'll share as I go, but I wanted to plant this flag for the new year.

Happy new year to you all!

Admiration for Education

I admire teachers of elementary school kids so much. As I continue to help with the home schooling, I've been attempting to teach my kid how to say his R's cowectly. It's hard going. We've been recalling words with R, and we've been saying them back and forth to one another. rabbit, rhino, roll, rat, race...

When his come out like a W, then I have him look at my mouth and say it like me.


Funny thing is, now he says his R's like a pirate or a stroke victim, pronouncing it from the side of his mouth. I've been told I smile crookedly, too.

He's in kindergarten, but he's learning amazing things, like rivers in India (Ganges) and all about the Taj Mahal. This is all courtesy of his homeschool curriculum from K-12, an excellent course of study that we are enrolled in through Lawrence Virtual Schools. They provide everything, down to a script, every book and resource tool, online lessons, video, music, etc...

...even with all that, I am awestruck at what 'real' teachers accomplish in elementary schools. I wonder how I ever caught on when I was a kid in a sea of others.

I could never teach elementary school, for I lack the patience.

I will work with my kids, however, from dawn to dusk.

Our house, is a very, very, very fine house...

What's being said/done around my house on Christmas eve morning....some quotes:

The way we take care of our temper is we butt heads.

I'll give anyone who finds my shoes a quarter!

I really like cookies and I wanna can of pop.

I want to open my presents in the morning--today morning--but mom won't
let me.

I would have ripped off his arms for a quarter.

Meanwhile...
Ella (18 months) is wandering around using the electric toothbrush on everything, just to feel the vibration...in the chair, on the wall, on the dog...

TRON

So many negative reviews--and they're all wrong.

I watched Tron Legacy last night and was transfixed from beginning to end. Yes, it was mostly eye candy that mesmerized me, but hey, that's why I went to see it in 3D on an IMAX screen (purportedly the biggest in the USA).

The theatre was sold out, as it has been for every showing since it opened last week. The theatre seems huge, and there were 3 in my party, walking in at 7, showtime, just before the previews rolled. We found two chairs and an ample hole by the wall, just right for us. Sitting by the wall usually spells doom for movie viewing, but in this case, due to the screen, 3D, etc...it was almost as good as sitting dead center. An added value, according to my son, was the wall vibrating and rumbling with the absolutely excellent sound.

Bill Warren himself (whom I have trouble with, personally, for charging too damn much for kids and otherwise seeming like a greedy movie mogul)...but nonetheless, he, himself gave us a little pep talk before the show--which was kinda cool.

The film itself is a visual and auditory feast. The story line is adequately engaging, especially for those of us who remember something of the original film. I'm sure it's even more valuable for those computer geeks out there who know the ins/outs of users and programs, etc. much more intimately than I do.

At any rate, it was a very groovy experience. I look at it as a trial run for the film I really want to see in that environment (though it's not been confirmed: Avatar 2 in 3D Imax). For that matter, I'd like to see Inception in there, maybe...or about a dozen other movies.

Movies are my weakness. Good thing I'm poor.

It was especially fun taking a friend along who has not been to a theatre in a couple of years, who has never seen a 3D film, and could not remember an Imax event. For him, it was culture shock, and a very good ride.

My 8 year old has yet to quit babbling about it. He was blown away!

Go see it before listening to the naysayers.

Day Out, chapter 2

My adventures continued with the rest of the kids. Well, the 18 month old, Ella, just got her day jumbled into a family day out, but it still counted. We went to the Wichita Art Museum for their free Saturday family day, and I must say, it was great. Even if it hadn't been Christmas, there was a lot to do, a lot to see, and we have an open door now for monthly craft project days, etc we did not previously even know about!

Art is so ageless. I do not mean over centuries, but over generations. My mother might make a work of art that her grandchildren might equally appreciate, or create. It was clear to me, again, when the kids made some cool tempera paintings with an emphasis on texture. Art is subjective, to be sure--one man's art is another man's children's doodle. I am proud of the works my kids made last Saturday (they're hanging in the kitchen). Art is also very individually expressive. Though the three boys had the same tools and paint palette, the results were wildly different. Engaging in art is also one of those opportunities for each individual to come out, to come into their own. Eddie, the three year old, really took to the activity like I've seldom seen him do with crafts. It was great.

Speaking of Eddie, his day, the fourth and final in the series, was fun. We opted for Chuckie Cheese to play games, then went to Wichita's only true toy store, Imagine That! That place is awesome, for they encourage kids to play while they are there. Afterwards we went to a fast food Mexican food place. Eddie's day out was fun, for he's really getting more personality and becoming a better communicator, too.

With Ella's day, a new horror presented itself, something I'm not ready to man-up and deal with: a daughter on Daddy Day Out! Yikes. What will I do? How will I cope? I was glad to have the whole family this year, and I do want to become more comfortable with her...but what? how? I fear this, yet she impressed me yesterday by slamming together action figures just like her brothers. She's yet to talk, really, but she does a fierce imitation of expletives sometimes. Maybe being daddy to her won't be that different from being one for the boys.

Day Out with Daddy

Each semester I get a day out with each kid, one-on-one. In December, it's to take each kid Christmas shopping, teaching them thoughtfulness, stewardship, etc...but more importantly to me, just getting a day up close and personal with each one. (I don't know how the Duggers or other zillion kid households do it!)

I am in the middle of Day Out with Daddy week. Two down, two to go.

Day 1, middle child Carson, asked me as soon as we buckled in: "Dad, why do you call Walmart the evil empire?" That led to a long talk and an interesting day of shopping. He decided (at the age of 5) to only go to stores that needed our support, to avoid the mass market. I swallowed hard, for he had a $5 per person budget. Resourcefully, I took him to an antique mall--his first--and he was able to make some very thoughtful and affordable purchases. His most selfish moment of the day was to go to "the cat book store," that being the Book Grinder in El Dorado. He loves cats. I love books. The owner has 4 cats wandering around in there...win-win.

Day 2, eldest child Jaxson, asked me, early on, "Can we go to a museum today?" I'd offered a movie previously, but I knew he was even more passionate about museums. We settled on Exploration Place, after we did our shopping. His shopping was one-stop, rushed, budget-be-damned, for he wanted to get to that museum!

Conversations were very engaging and often very in-depth. Over the course of the two days out we discussed everything from why one's penis might stick to their leg to how come God's so poor his kid had to be born in a barn.

My take-away from the two days so far: I cannot get enough time with these little people. They fascinate me. They grow so fast (yes, recurring theme) and they yearn to know so much. They want, above all, undivided attention. The attention part is something we always accomplish--undivided, well, that's rare.

Even more: I feel for parents once-removed from their kids, whether it's by job, deployment, divorce, incarceration, even by choice...My day out is almost a joke, for I am with my kids lots more than an average parent (especially since we home school and I work odd hours). Parents in any 'real' situation of separation must really ache on these rarely doled out days together, must really try to pack it all in during those hours that pass so very quickly. I would expect the time is more valuable to them than could be measured!

I hope that all such parents and children have a great time of bonding over this holiday and over every hour they are brought together.

Be Good

At the risk of running into the wall of a qualified statement, of employing added-value, jaundiced, or otherwise power-packed language, I am going to offer a simple, yet very hard to practice, principle:

E.T. said it best, "Be Good."



I spent a dozen years trying to live up to that simple command. Always, I was nagged in the back of my mind by a little (wicked) voice that would remind me, "You've got more to give. You can be better than you are being right now." I was obsessed with do-good-ness. I was working so very hard to build an empire of altruism, when in fact, I was consumed with my own limitations.

2002: Though I tried to be good, I was never able to live up to my own standards. Though I fielded thousands of others toward being good (service, service-learning, volunteering, etc) and spoke at conferences motivating others to get on the band wagon, there were always others I was not reaching, others who were (as I saw it then) swamped in apathy. Though I gave away most of my income, lived like a pauper, and lived my life's work, I was destitute and empty on the inside too much of the time. Why? because I took being good to an extreme. I went right on past being good (and even great) to being perfect--well, I failed at that, of course, but it was my interpretation of good.

1982: I had a similar problem when I was involved in a faith that had a maxim I grabbed 'hold of: be holy, as I am holy. 1 Peter 1:15-16. Well, that's some pretty big shoes to fit into, a big halo to be fitted for...and again, in that endeavor, I failed miserably. Though I had read the bible from cover to cover three times (yes, wading through all the begats and begottens, by-golly!), I was still not holy. Though I had one of the higher rack of numbers per week on witnessing and conversions (yes, they kept stats on that), I was not holy enough. Though I was memorizing scripture at the sacrifice of my academics, I just could not get it right--enough.

Well, I share all this to say only that one should not be so hard on themselves. Now that I'm an old man, I have a different perspective than when I was a young whipper-snapper. I no longer look at the world from such extreme perspectives, and I'm much less harsh on myself. (Some regular readers might argue this.)

I aspire to be holy, and I aspire to be good. To 'aspire' does not mean simply to wish for it, either. I am practicing my faith and values, and yet I'm not beating myself up too much when I'm less than expected. I write this, at any rate, and I try to believe this, too. Like Stuart Smalley, I just have to live by the mantra, "I'm good enough. I'm smart enough...and dog-gone-it, people like me."

It's WHAT?

Yep, it's December 7th alrighty.

How is it possible that it's FINALS WEEK?

I have these feelings sometimes about this time of year. (Honestly, I have them all year 'round, the older I get.)

I am astonished.

Now, do not confuse astonishment with amazement. I've written about amazement before...For that matter, I've previously written about how good it is to marvel, how one should live in the now, about how attending too much to the past or future is not valuable--but the truth is, sometimes all that is window-dressing, whitewashing, or otherwise hogwash. (Who knew such potential in cleansing compounding words?)

Sometimes, when I really admit it, I think I'm living in Oblivion. Yes, I felt like that when I lived in Western Kansas, but that was physical and literal...now I'm talking cerebral.

Astonished oblivion is not bliss. I wish it were, for it would then be easier to say, "mission accomplished." Bliss, after all, is on my bucket list...if it could be. Some theorize that bliss is a state of being, not a destination nor some thing one could ever cross off of a bucket list.

So here I am, dumbfounded at the date.

Where did the time go? I wish I still had my watch that chimed every quarter hour. I wish I lived and worked in places that only told time with large grandfather clocks--no, loud cuckoo clocks. Outside, every major gathering of buildings should have a bell tower with the most cacophonous carillon, and from that should burst the boldest acknowledgment of time passing, at least every fifteen minutes. No, make the carillon a klaxon, and mount it to my head.

In short, I wish I could be made more aware, constantly, of the passing of time.

Perhaps instead of cleaving to amazement, I should instead be aspiring toward awareness.

I am most alarmed by all this when I look at pictures, even ones from the recent past. I am sometimes shocked at my own work, only a semester old or less--I surprise myself that I wrote this or I did that. (Ever read Flowers for Algernon...similarly, I feel like I'm slowly realizing my own retreat to senility.) Even worse than the 'typical man' who might casually (strategically?) forget (plausible deniability?) he said or did something, I seem to be fading. It annoys my wife. It frustrates my children. It surprises me.

Maybe I'm making too much of it. After all, this is Finals week, the time when I have hundreds of papers to grade and take the responsibilities of my job far too seriously. I sleep less, I worry more, and I grade most of all. Grading papers, as anyone who does too much of it can attest, can dull one's wits. I am also prone to sentimentality at this time of year (Finals, yes, but doubly so, the holidays). In repressing sentiment, yes, even when grading, I think perhaps I repress what's left of my wit and wisdom as well.

Why else, I am realizing as I am typing this, would I have shared so?

Internet InterFACE

Can going to a web site keep a kid in school?
That was the issue raised at yesterday's planning session for our new portal.

Studies show that students who make a friend or two, who meet and get to know at least one faculty or staff member, and who participate in an extra curricular event tend to stay in school and get more out of school than others. This is a discussion of engagement and social intimacy as it relates to retention. I am not convinced that "social distance" can be equated to hits on a web site. I would need to see evidence, correlations between frequency of visits to the campus pages and retention/engagement records. The theory, at least, is that the digital activity one logs might parallel getting to know teachers, peers, and going to events. As more people have more active social network life, it only stands as reasonable that we might build our digital presence with intention, making it more engaging.

From my perspective, "more engaging" means, essentially, more like Facebook. That means, our college web site needs to have an element of community (like IM/chat features, bulletin boards, public areas) and it needs to be somewhat narcissistic, too, perhaps encouraging interaction, status statements, photos, etc. (The very NAME of Facebook emphasizes the importance of the photo.)

If mañana never comes...

I've not actually written anything since last month!

It's been very busy my academic world, tooling up for the End Times. In my case, that means the grueling end of the term, when no amount of procrastination will be tolerated. There is no mañana. One must seize the day by both horns and bend the will of Atlas toward the keyboard and--grade. On a bright note, I've broken the 200 essay barrier, but that means I've only 12 days to read and grade the other 190 I have in my hopper. I do not like the 15 hr days, but these, too, shall come to pass.

To pace myself, I did not even come to work today until almost sunrise. It was the first sunrise I have seen this fall, I recollect.

The End Times remind me to remind myself here: nothing is worth this. It would be better to sacrifice a little quality in favor of a more reasonable resolution to the semester. Don't dote, don't daudle, and don't do tomorrow what you can do today!

I am looking to the greener grass of summer...on the other side...

WakeUpWalMart.com: Video

WakeUpWalMart.com: Video
This video, among many others, tells it like it is. I think I might spend the whole month on a rant against the Evil Empire and corporate commercialism, over-consumption, and the like. Feed the Greed!

That's Not Turkey! 4 - Worth1000 Contests

That's Not Turkey! 4 - Worth1000 Contests

I need shock therapy

Why do I have this video here?

I need a shock collar. I need one that is not sensitive to volume or to every utterance, but one that edits my speech. Two years ago I made a new year's resolution to not speak unkindly to my kids, but I failed miserably. The problem has continued to plague me and load my spirit with guilt. It makes me second guess everything I attempt for the good of parenting. I loathe myself when I yell at my kids, yet I do it near every day.

Now, I'm not abusive, in case you wandered onto this blog as a stray who does not know me. I waited 40 years to have a go at child rearing for I know myself to be a hot head and wanted to simmer down some. For the most part, it worked. I've become much more tolerant than I was even 7 years ago, when my little one threw up his weight in baby food all over me in the middle of the night. (Good times).

Still, I think if I were to be able to video tape and review my behavior, I would put my kids up for adoption, hoping they would find a better home. I know I am not alone, I know we all likely do things behind closed doors we would not want broadcast, but I really, really do not like this about myself. It jaundices so many special moments.

Example: I just built some "way cool" bunk beds for my brood. This set is complete with a subterranean chamber. It altogether accommodates all four kids. The cost? absolutely nothing. I used materials I had on the farm. They love it. They were all four romping all over it before it was even done, as I was working on it, and yes, I barked at them. They were jumping from one level to another, hitting their heads on the ceiling, generally threatening the collapse of the universe--and I yelled. At lights out, they were bickering over who gets what bunk--and I think I might even have cursed. Way cool bed = evil dad yelling memories.

So, if I have to, I'm getting a shock collar. I AM going to overcome this, just like I did smoking, sleeping too much, etc. I AM going to learn some strategies for coping with spontaneous combustion. I WILL get this under control. Maybe I need a shock collar on a more sensitive part of my anatomy? Maybe I need that video tape surveillance camera running 24/7--reviewing a few days of that would surely break me?

Meanwhile, on a lighter note: http://www.spike.com/video/doritos-shock-collar/3334609">

Art

The pictures above are two self-portraitures constructed by my middle son. He, like me, can find art in anything. I can hardly wait to take him to an art museum.

The eldest can tell stories until you fall asleep. (Yes, you is here a ganeralization, for I've yet to find anyone, gentle reader, that he cannot overcome with his words...even you.) His medium is words.

The youngest boy is coming into his own. He is the most emotional, from random hugs to Irish smackdowns. He's not really too into art or expression outside of the physical.

The 'baby' girl is violent when mad, heart-melting when affectionate...much like her brother. Who knows how she will come to express herself artistically--but I hope she is not programmed by commerce to only work in shades of pink, to only color princesses and care bears.

Every kid has his/her own strengths and values. I find it interesting that "art" comes to them early, and from what I can tell, about the same time as language. That may not be true, for I have seen some dynamic finger painting from kids under 2, but it seems the knowing it as "art" or the ability to share the nature of it as an artistic work might somehow depend upon language, both acquisition and expression.

What makes us miss? and who? and why?

It's been said that of mammals, only humans have much sense of meta cognition, of actual memories, of reflection. Sometimes I wish I did not. There are days when I am so very reflective it's hard to find my way forward. For me, memories are brought to the foreground by many stimuli, but predominantly by music and images.

Today, it seems, I'm really suffering from missing folks.

I really miss my dad every November, for he died at Thanksgiving, 2003. I'd just seen him in October, for a funeral and then a good sit down (just the two of us) in his home office which he was so proud of. I miss him whenever I hear classic country music, like from Wichita's 92.3 (check the current playlist) and sometimes I just have to change stations, it's so overwhelming.

I miss my best buddy, Danny, all the time, but particularly whenever I smell beer or am reminded of Hays, Kansas; bowling, cantaloupes, or Steely Dan's song, FM.


(This song should be played while my blog is read.) My best buddy for life, since kindergarten (yes, they had that back when I was young). Danny's a busy guy these days, but I really should just saddle up and go visit him.

I miss my bestest littlest brother, Kyle, who is deployed to Afghanistan these days. I especially miss him whenever I see a squirt gun, for the memory that stands out is one in which he's having a big shoot out with my kids, and he's holding a squirt gun to a kitten's head, using that cat as leverage. (It's especially funny, for Kyle loves animals like no one else; the irony here--gets me every time. No kittens were harmed in the making of the water gun fight.)



Whenever I smell patchouli I miss my pal, Travis. He's a vagabond in the finest sense of the word, a world traveler who hitch-hikes just because he can. In that video, he dwells on the essence of hitch-hiking: "It pushes the edges of what I am as a human, and it strengthens my faith in god...Spirit seems to dwell heavily 3 feet away from a 70 mph-moving semi-truck." We were very fortunate to see him one afternoon this last summer. Such a rich life.

As a finite being, I often dwell on my own passing. It seems this semester I've really wrestled with my mortality, seeing the long view. I've had a rich life, a long life by some standards. Lately it seems, for no particular reason, like it's about over, and so I've been trying to get my life in order. I think it's a good way to live anyway, but it's really been a powerful preoccupation lately. I want to get things done, I want to tidy things up, and I want all my loose ends tied, right down to the paper work. One of my colleagues has her lesson plans ready and on her desk daily for the next day, just in case. I want to be that proactive. Another has his will, living will, funeral arrangements, etc. all in place for his survivors. That's how any thoughtful person should prepare, but I have none of that in place (at least my organ donation is in order, I guess).

Told'ya so!

I've been fortunate to surf some respectable futurists' sites, camp on some great technology links, and generally be informed of what's coming down the pike.

TSA AIT: Neked before the full-body scanners...I told'ya so!
Back in November of 2008, I was well aware of the whole scanning issue, but at that time no one wanted to throw down on it. At that time, my thinking was that the technology was invasive, that I was more conservative than I thought of my self previously.

Today, after hearing and reading too much about this whole thing, I've reached a new stand...

In Israel they do not have expensive hardware and high tech devices to check people out, they do it the old fashioned way--interrogation. Of course, civil libertarians have issues with racial profiling and facial recognition software that altogether seem to be targeting some people over others (the Israelis do not interrogate everyone thoroughly, only those who reveal "tells" in initial questioning). In many ways, I'm all for this. Ask away. If a would-be passenger has something to hide, has some reason to feel picked on or targeted, then they need a good talking to. My parents wouldn't let me go out with strangers until they had thoroughly vetted them.

On the other hand, since we have the technology, why not use it? TSA Advanced Imaging Technology works, and it's ready to run in over 450 applications. Fire them up. I have nothing to hide.

Boys and girls, this is nothing new! Behold, a clip from Total Recall, circa 1990, twenty years ago!




I think Americans are pretty prudish when it comes to nudity, whether it is in film or on a TSA AIT. What difference does it make--really? We're all just mammals, and we all have our shortcomings or bumps, ripples, or ridges that we generally hide under flattering clothing. Truth is, our raiment is irrelevant to who we really are.

So, snap my nads, scan my junk, shoot my noodle...I do not care. Put the images up on the web, big deal. Is it an invasion of privacy? Maybe. Does it make any difference? No...I can hear my dad's voice, however, forewarning, "Once they get away with that [fill in the blank], it's only a matter of time until..." and somewhere in the back of my mind, even though I have this carefree attitude toward nudity, I know he's got a point there. What's next?

While I'm in a Told'ya So Mood, I'll tell you what's next, or coming soon...

We already have neuro-marketing rearing its enterprising head, a sleeping giant of manipulation that will be able to push our buttons at a biological level we cannot resist. We already have forfeit our whereabouts, entirely, via GPS chips in cell phones. We have already given away our most intimate information on Facebook and blogs, Twitter and other online media. All this transparency and vulnerability will no doubt produce some tremendous backlash. We will be such easily controlled sheep, in the future.

Of course, as that evolves, I won't be able to tell you so, for I'll be among those led around by the nose. *sigh* You readers won't realize the control, either, in much the same way we fail to reckon with the power of the media and Patriot Act, today. *sigh*

So, what the hell...drop your trousers with me on National Opt-Out Day, November 24th. 'Might as well have some fun.

Language

Fun where you find it

I was stoked, steamed actually, to attend the Emerald City Steampunk Expo. I'd been looking forward to it for weeks. Unfortunately, work and money did not favor my idea of fun.

So, when I went home, I had a chip on my shoulder. I was greeted at the door by my kids and my beagle, which was heartwarming, sure, but I was really gruff with the missus. I was exceptionally grumpy, so I did what I always used to do when I was a difficult teen: I set something on fire.

It needed done because the trash pickup didn't happen this week. We had 120 gallons of trash and another 100 gal. to come this week with no where to go--so it was worthwhile on that practical note.

Even more, added value, I was soon to discover, was that the contagion of fire-tending was more amusing to my kids than a trip to Disneyland. The four of us had a blast burning trash for hours. Even papa joined in. I was able to teach the boys about how fire spreads, how it can be suffocated, how a can of pop, never opened, will open itself when it gets hot enough to blow.

No, not environmentally friendly. No, not something I'd do every day or suggest in particular to anyone else...but for me and my house, at that moment, it was practical, affordable, educational, and...almost fun.

Then, the next day I was trying (again) to get my old Farmall tractor started. I've now invested about 5 hours in the effort, and I'm getting angry. The boys all three spent time on the tractor and pickup, treating them like a jungle gym. They'd come and go, visit with me, ask a few questions, then go play on hay bales (today, a ship crossing to Narnia). They'd stop by once in a while to ask me what this lever did or why that thingy shot sparks. They were impatient, not understanding why daddy couldn't just fire it up and give them a hay rack ride. Neither could I. I found myself getting gruff, curt, and, okay, likely downright rude. I've skinned knuckles. I've spent too much time on something that should be so damn easy. I'm just about to the tool throwing, foot stamping part of my version of mechanics when I hear a high squealing giggle.

I leave the pickup 'jump-cabled' to the tractor to charge the battery a bit (I know, not effective) and I follow the laughter.

My boys are in the pig pen.

You'd think it was the big birthday party game extravaganza all over again, just by the noise and commotion. The two boys were running from the two little pigs, then alternately chasing the pigs. Carson, in a moment of bravery, straddled one pig in hope of riding it, but he was bucked off. All of us were laughing like we'd not laughed in weeks (and we laugh a lot). I laughed like a chain smoker. I laughed like I was stoned. I laughed 'til I cried, coughed, ultimately got hiccups from laughing!

Of course, you had to be there, to see the abject terror on the kids' faces when being pursued. You had to be there to see one of them squealing and squirming when he fell and the pigs nuzzled all over him, tickling him. You had to be there to see that 1-second pig ride that will never make it to a rodeo.

And I was there.

And I had fun.

And that's the moral of this story. Whether it's burning trash or watching a pig rodeo, fun is to be had. I had fun because I was there to share those priceless, silly, seemingly-insignificant moments with my boys.

No, I didn't get to go to the Expo, or a movie, or even on a date with my wife. I don't have money to even rent a movie right now, but that's okay. We watch old VHS Disney movies in the basement. We wrestle during the boring scenes and break for snacks now and again.

In ways, we don't have much, but in ways that matter, we've got it all.

Damsels...at Emerald City Steampunk Expo

"I kissed a Nerd" great tune. Also "Mysfit Toys" dance group. Also....well, just check out their site. I'll be there, likely in costume, even if my wife is embarrassed.

Knights and Daze

Party 'til you're pooped. (In some cases, yesterday, with as many toddlers as we had at the party, this was likely true. More than one kid waddled off with a load in his britches.)

I'd safely say we were all pretty exhausted after the 8th celebration of my eldest son's date of birth. We had 50 guests, 2 hrs of games, an exotic cake that was a true work of art, and I would offer, an overall great time. I was happy some of my best buddies were there, too, for we were able to talk shop over the ship among other things.

The theme was medieval. We had jousting, bridge sieges, a castle, a quest, dragons to battle, a cake decorated like an elaborate castle...altogether themed out and good times. I hope he will always remember it, and I hope the kids there had fun.

Jax received so very many nice, nice gifts. It was an incredible outpouring of generosity (even though we requested no presents, it was nice of you all). One neat idea came up, that we might offer in next year's invite that if anyone wished to bring a gift, that's welcome, but we're going to donate them to a children's home, etc.

It was a great day, as mentioned above...but it's also marking a very sad (in ways) date for me, as my little boy just keeps edging toward becoming a little man. He's only 8, my wife reminds me, but he seems to be 18 sometimes, and I just don't want to miss a thing.

That desire to capture it all, to experience everything, and to miss nothing--well, it's creating a big grudge against work. I like my job, but any job that separates me from family is just not good. If only some college or university could afford me full-time online! Someday, sooner every year I know, some school will pick me up. More and more academic work is conducted online, and I've been at it since 1990's somewhere...so maybe I'll be a viable candidate.

Meanwhile I just enjoy the hours I do have at home, and pack as much into the moments as they can handle. Sure it leaves me tuckered out, but it is a good feeling.

The Freeze, and with it...

...the gloom descends.

Last night we picked pears, scaling as high as possible in the tree (over 20 ft). We worked diligently, knowing the fruit was all about to be turned to mush by the freeze. Likewise, we put the pumpkins indoors, hoping to keep them around to Thanksgiving.

And thus it begins, the bringing-in-of things. The great Retraction. All warmth and growth is being redacted from the poem of life. This weekend is another harbinger: Daylight Savings Time. Darkness falls ever-more-early.

A mild fall was fine with me. Yes, I had to mow more. Yes, it was hard to be disciplined to come inside to grade papers. Yes, I broke a sweat on Halloween.

This freeze has frozen me. My blood runs cold. It coagulates into a freezee of red, salty sludge. I don't want to move. I don't want to play outside. I just want to curl up and clutch my blankets around me.

I know, seasons must change.

Children must grow up.

Time must pass.

X Posting to Family blog

I don't have much to share here that's not better said here.

I don't elaborate on family much, but my wife has taken on an ambitious project of taking a photo a day and writing about it. Sure, she falls a week or two behind on posting them, but she's been very faithful about taking them and writing about them. (Part of the posting problem is due to our pokey bandwith at home.)

That site she's created is a true treasure that shares some keen insight into what makes our lives great right now. Whenever I get down, whenever I miss home, or for that matter...whenever she posts something new, I go there!

You should too.

Yes we CAN

(Okay, I stole that from Bob the Builder)

This has been a bumper crop, a banner year, a true bin-buster. Due to timely rains (virtually weekly until late July) and mild weather, perhaps some due to the tons of manure I imported, too...we had a great garden.

I measure greatness by how much I learned, more than how much we raised or saved.

1. I learned I must do something radical to get rid of squash bugs. They decimated our potatoes and squash, put a dent in our pumpkins, and generally annoyed us.
2. I learned we just have to move our tomatoes next year (I did not even know the rule about relocation for them, but it makes sense for they tire the ground and recirculate illness and insects.).
3. I learned I want to TRAIN tomatoes, not let them run wild like we always have. For one, they will yield better if pruned. For another, it will be more pleasant harvesting them (this year it was like fighting through a jungle!)
4. I learned watermelons and cantaloupe are attracting something with teeth--likely rabbits--which we need to fend off with FENCE.
5. I learned that we're better off with some elevated trellis affair for every crop that can bear such rearing--because my lovely farm wife and I are not fond of stooping.
6. I learned that corn needs more attention than I've given it.
7. I learned that we are really good at raising pumpkins.

BEST OF ALL, we are learning to preserve and just generally do something with what we have on our place. My wife canned probably 36 pickle jars, some peach jelly, and we've been figuring out what to do with a blessed over-abundance of pears (so far pear crisp, pear pie, and some dehydrated pear novelties).

We CAN.

Now, we hope to learn much more about self-sufficiency and raising our own food. I recently read an article about a family who set a modest goal of raising their Thanksgiving dinner. That's a good goal for us to explore. I'd also like to get into family gardening more, something for the kids they'll ALL enjoy (right now we have one gardener, anyway).

Halloween Coming

Today was our campus Halloween luncheon, a time in which many of the faculty and staff dress up in costumes and have a big potluck. I brought my wife's fantastic pear-crisp dessert (like apple crisp, only better). My whole family paid a visit to the guest of honor, a fella named Jeff who's moving on to a new job. The event was as much a farewell to him as a celebration of the season. The quirky nature of our wardrobe, the light-heartedness of the holiday...it all helped me swallow the bitter pill of his departure. He was my best friend here, always with anecdotes, always a good listener, always there for me in the early mornings for good fellowship. No more.

Sigh. At least one of my favorite holidays is coming fast. I take Halloween too seriously. I ran a haunted house (a big one, cast of 30 people, 100K sq feet or so, indoors and out). I still take my kids trick or treating (door to door, none of this 'trick or trunk' funk for me). I still remember all the old costume I had as a kid (mummy, dracula, hobo, etc)...

1. This year I wore a mattress, and on my head, an infant's bee costume.
2. A couple years ago, I wore a baby doll attached to my bottom.
3. In 2006 I was in a trash bag, cowboy hat and boots, with garbage stuck to me.
4. In 2005 I painted my face blue, wore all blue, and beat a drum.

And that's just while I've worked here. At my previous job, I dressed as a nun once, which was peculiar as I had a good beard at the time...it was all-the-more awkward when I came into a meeting late (in a big meeting room, about 50 people, when I expected 5) only to discover the representatives of the college's accreditation visiting team were there!

1. Mattress/bee....pest....a bed bug.
2. Doll attached...if I sat down...a baby sitter.
3. Trash bag--a white trash bag....I was white trash.
4. Blue and rhythmic drumming....I was rhythm and blues.

Bid'ness Cards!

I don't know why...I don't know what I was thinking....but for some reason I really thought I needed business cards. The college I work for provides them upon request. I'd never asked until this fall (6 years into this job). When they arrived, I felt like Steve Martin in The Jerk when he found his name had made it to the phone book!

First minute of this is The Scene--"I'm SOMEBODY now!"


(aside: is there a better comedic line than this, "He hates these cans!")

HOWEVER, after a couple of months with them, I am sorry to say that nothing has changed. I've only found two people to give them to. I don't even know what to do with them, perhaps make a house of (business) cards? I'm thinking about placing them randomly around the world just to see who will correspond with me. Maybe I'll distribute them to students in the spring, just to show them that "I'm somebody!"

Beats Antique

Just when I think I'm all Zimmered out, just when I'm getting all Blue Man...feeling that there's no more Bellowhead to blow me away, I find a new band that tweaks me to my Rusted Roots.

This time, I really don't think there's going to be a contender. I think I've found it, The band for me: Beats Antique. Gypsy, tribal, electronica...complete with a hot belly dancer.

How COULD it get any better than this?

Call me silly, but...

...it's worth it to go to work at 5am on a Sunday so I can clock out by 10 and go hang w/family. It's worth it today, leaving the house on a Monday morning just after 4, so I can go home after 2 to "be all there" for my wife and kids.

Problem is: it's really hard to be all there, when I'm so exhausted...but I try.

Yesterday was good, for I was able to catch up on mowing (football field-sized front yard) and gardening (harvested potatoes, peppers, etc). I was able to work on the ship for a couple of hours, and we made a new home to some new piglets.




Yes, I said piglets. We now are the custodians of walking bacon. I have very mixed emotions about this (see previous entries), but I figure if nothing else, it may give us all greater appreciation for how much food and effort goes into what ends up at our table. It may make us better stewards of our food, more conscientious about eating meat, knowing the animal it came from. Maybe we'll be more respectful and less greedy consumers.

I truly love the fall weather and the afternoons at home. I've been working my fingers to the bone while I'm in the office to better accommodate the kids when I get home. (It's better than getting home after 6, like I had to do some, recently.)

I truly am fortunate to have so much autonomy and flexibility in my schedule. Even if I do make it crazy for myself.

Now listening to "Monsoon" Sitra mix, by Mantra, on the album Global Chillout Lounge at Pandora.com.

The coming twilight

So, this is how it's going to be.

I've just turned a corner, mentally, coming to acknowledge just how old I am. People who I seemed to chum around with of late, people I'd come to consider my peers...are retiring. Today it hit me hard, as one of my "besties" told me the road had been long but it was now forking. This leaves me in the dust.

And we all turn to dust.

That's what is becoming more and more obvious to me. I've had something of a delayed maturation, since I did not marry (for good) until late, did not have kids until only 7 years ago. On Facebook, I see that most of my old cronies from high school are old cronies and worse--grandparents.

So my buddies are retiring grandparents.

I look at their pictures and I see "mature" people. This has been instructive, for in the same way we cannot often discern the changes in our own kids/environment because we are always there, our brains only mapping general detail (unless we're physically threatened or have some other need to be more attentive)--in that same, oblivious way, I've ignored my own maturation, my own sagging and wrinkling and plumping.

I guess I thought I could cope well-enough with getting old, myself. I'd just never had to embrace the fact that those around me would be checking out, too. It's starting to get lonely here. I feel the cold chill of the nursing home, already.

I'll tell you one thing--I'm going to start doing the math on my KPERS (retirement fund) to see just how close I, myself, might be to clocking out. Hmmmm.

Ray Kurzweil on how technology will transform us | Video on TED.com

Ray Kurzweil on how technology will transform us | Video on TED.com



THIS video (and several others on TED talks) has stuck to my sulci and gyri!

His big emphasis seems to be on nanotechnology, and in both his Ted talks, he's suggested that we're going to see such advances in re-engineering humans that it will be hard to fathom. He bases all his prognostication not on pie-in-the-sky dreaming but on hard, cold logical tracking of where we've been/where we're going. The growth rates in the evolution of technology have been exponential, and he does not see this trend leveling out or canceling itself out anytime soon.

I encourage anyone who's into the potentials of the future to do like me and follow this fellow's thinking to its limits.

Wild.

Water

So, I'm doing a research project with my students--meaning, I write and model and struggle and slog through the process shoulder to shoulder with them. I don't know if it means anything to them, but it keeps me humble.

This term, I'm writing on water. I started out simply on water pollution. I thought about writing an expose on bottled water. I was intrigued by desalination as a solution to drought. I'm now leaning toward water scarcity and the good stewardship of water.

This topic is especially interesting to me, for I grew up on the (somewhat) arid plains of western Kansas, where to have a good yield of anything, one had to irrigate. We had 3000 acres of irrigated property. One of my jobs was to move irrigation pipe from field to field on a regular basis. I also had to change the water, meaning, I'd go to the bottom of the field, note which rows had flooded through, and then go to the top of the field and shut gates for the completers, open new gates as we progressed across the field. I maintained irrigation engines, these being BIG engines that drove powerful wells pulling thousands of gallons from the aquifer beneath us. It was all in the name of high yield, prosperity, and mo' money. Looking back, I realize that was not necessarily the most conservative or responsible way to irrigate. Now they use giant sprinkler systems that deliver just-right doses of water, just in time. Even that is a horrific suck on natural resources, not only of water but also natural gas to power the engines.

Of all the things I'm learning about water, I was most recently shocked by the concept of one's water footprint.

Sources argue that if we are really going to make a difference, then yes, we need to be attentive to issues of global climate change, especially those that may be man-made stimulants to the problem. We must also become sensitized to how simple lifestyle decisions we make--like what we eat and how we flush--also matter to the planet.

Note, for example, the enormous amount of water it takes to raise the food that is then converted to meat. This figure includes the related aqua costs through the whole processing, etc. of cow to beef. (Even at that, it does not acknowledge the tremendous petrol-related expenses in getting that steak to the table!)

In class I brought up the idea that what we pour on our yards, wash our cars with...flush with...is a commodity worth killing for. As it continues to become harder to come by (or at the very least, harder to process for consumption due to pollutants, etc.) we may all some day be astonished at our water practices.

I am becoming more and more attuned to water waste. We have a sink in our building that runs constantly (for six days now, without stopping). I have a dripping facet at home to fix. It rained yesterday, and we could have captured so much water in rain barrels and such for irrigating the yard.

BUT...
Yoda, or someone, once said that knowing is not doing. I know a lot I do nothing about. I don't know why that is or what to do about it. I don't even know what to call it. Perhaps it's laziness or complacency. Maybe it's procrastination. I know I tend to act only when acted upon, which is not only bad form, it's reactive instead of proactive. One thing I'm sure of: it's ugly behavior, to know and yet sit idle.

Losing something leads to finding more...

There's a truth to the subject line above, "losing something leads to finding more." One can wax philosophical about it all day long. The losing might be a loved one. The finding might be discovering a new way of life...

In my case, it was simply losing a screwdriver bit for my drill. The bit fell into the wood chips and bramble surrounding the pirate ship I'm building. I don't get much time to work on it, and I don't like blowing all that time looking for parts, going to buy supplies, trying to scavenge just the right--so I was duly frustrated when the bit fell from the drill.

In my growling around, one of my boys came to join me in the search. While I had to crouch and creak, he was down at ground level, resorting even to what he calls his army crawl. While I was angry and annoyed, he said it was like a puzzle or a "Where's Waldo" game. Taking notice of his attitude, I sat down in the chips and ran my fingers through them, taught him how to carefully sift instead of just throw the raw material around (hazard of throwing the bit out with the chips, after all). I was on his level and we were eye to eye talking about tools, pirates, puzzles, wood chips...

As the moment extended, we were joined by another of my sons, and I began to notice there was more than wood chips underfoot (well, under butt). The chip salad also included strands and striations, fiber and flotsam. We talked about how the chipper had done its job, and now how nature was taking up the task of decomposing the rest. We noticed the fine line between what was a wood chip and what was becoming dirt. We identified all manner of insects trooping and groping around in the chips, too.

Altogether, I was coming to appreciate why my other son spends hours digging with the enthusiasm of an archeologist all over our property, unearthing rusty bolts and (nearly) unidentifiable car parts. (The former owner was a mechanic and the one before him a farmer, so this place is rich in mechanical debris.) I was coming to enjoy that little stretch on my bum, yucking it up with my boys.

Eventually, I found a couple of lost screws, a nickle, and the lid to my WD-40.

I found the bit, too.

More importantly, I found a sense of wonder, and I found a moment in time with my sons. I found a way to convert anger to awe, and I think I'm beginning to find a way to make the most of the scarce resources I so often complain about in this blog.

Instead of stopping to smell the roses, I had to stop and sift the chips.

Resources

I feel like I write about this all the time, but I continue to be mystified by resource management. Whether it is time, money or materials, I am always at a loss for how to get the most out of everything.

I have awesome books and access to an infinite supply of others--but it's so hard to find time to read them all. I walk into a library or bookstore and I am overwhelmed. I have hundreds of bookmarks to get back to and even more content that I never get around to online. I have hundreds of online friends and a handful of real, live friends that I neglect.

There is so much out there, so much to do, so little time!

I cannot understand those people who EVER claim they are bored. How is it possible to be bored when there is so very much available to us, so much one could do.

Religulous--watch it again...

Inflammatory, but isn't that what we all need? a good jolting.

What do you think, gentle readers?

Air Conditioning!

Click on this little thumbnail:

(click here to view)

Signe Wilkinson Philadelphia Daily News Jul 6, 2010 EditorialCartoonists.com

Thankfully the weather seems to have shifted to fall here, for our air conditioning has been out for over a week. We need to gen-up some cash quick, before winter, for our unit is a heat pump and without a couple thousand dollars, we won't have heat, either! Yikes.

The cartoon reflects my desperation. I am already doing some dubious work for money, and I wonder sometimes just how far I would stoop for more cash. I have children to feed, a house to maintain, bills to pay...and no matter how well I do my job (or how poorly) the wage is still the same. *sigh* I am all for merit pay, personally.

My current status has made me more empathetic with those who might resort to illegal enterprises, whether they be white collar crimes or tending gardens of verboten herbs. I understand laws, how they are more-or-less standards we tend to agree upon for a civil society. I know also that laws are impossible to really wholly enforce unless people comply. Though this air conditioning inconvenience is minor, I am starting to better grasp the dimension of disregard for law that prevails when well-being/family is threatened in any way. It is becoming increasingly difficult to comply with the body of law when hardship comes knocking. That's a fancy way of saying, when people are pushed and repressed, they rebel.

I just watched a documentary that forewarns that the greatest threat to civilization as we know it is exactly that: the repressed "developing" nations are likely to reach a critical mass and...well...explode.

From CommonDreams:
Published on Friday, December 7, 2001 in the Toronto Globe & Mail
"Our Best Point the Way: On the 100th anniversary of the Nobel prize, 100 Nobel laureates warn that our security hangs on environmental and social reform:

The most profound danger to world peace in the coming years will stem not from the irrational acts of states or individuals but from the legitimate demands of the world's dispossessed.

Holiday Road

This image of a giant banjo is from the Grand Country Mall, Branson, MO, courtesy of Roadside America.

Next weekend we're going to Branson as a family. That's Branson, MO, for those some ways away w/no regional context. I dunno, maybe everyone knows about the place, where Dolly Parton and lots of other mega-country legends (and also Andy Williams, Baldknobbers, other strange acts) end up selling out nightly shows. It's like hillbilly Vegas. We're going to take the kids to Silver Dollar City, which is, yes, a theme park, but it (at least did) features a reenactment camp of early America (candle making and the like). I am looking forward to it.

I just returned from a zip trip to Tulsa, OK, and back.
In July, I went to NYC for several days.

I'm sharing all that just for context. What I want to mention is how our country was once an awesome, quirky collection of Americans, but it's becoming one large corporate franchise sellout. We had to hunt with some diligence to avoid Applebees and the like in Tulsa. I'm positive my family won't care to find local dives on the MO trip. *sad*

For me, it's the quirky America that still has charm. I like places with individuality. I want to be surprised by what's on the menu and by how it may taste once I get my order. I like to marvel at strange statues and natural wonders. For me, in a website, it's Roadside America. If you are not a frequenter of said site, go away--click over there now and check it out!

BEST Holiday EVER

Banner from the boys at the International (truly, multi-cultural, several languages represented) Talk Like a Pirate Day Website.

Today is "Talk like a Pirate Day" and I'm going for the whole day. Some years I've only been in character through my 3 hr lecture or a dinner w/family. This year, I'm going for it.

I would be remiss if I did not mention that today I am celebrating by working the bulk of the day on my family's pirate ship. Wish you were here? C'mon.

Resources you need for today:
Pirate Dictionary

Video Primer--thar be others, but this remains the best!

Substitutes

Substitutes are for teachers, right? I have recently had need of substitutes for my classes. One day it was a medical necessity. Two others are conference-related. Two more are a family vacation. I've not employed so many substitutes ever before, and it's a bit awkward. I'm very grateful they'll be at my lectern, and I'm sure they will hold down the fort well. It is a lot of work, prepping for them, however, and it is also a little uncomfortable leaving my flock with an interim shepherd. It will be interesting to see how this has all shaken down in about 3 weeks.

Meanwhile, I've written about avatars and clones before on this blog--I know I have. There was once this goofy movie, Multiplicity, featuring clones generated to take the stresses off of Michael Keaton's character. That would be great, if things didn't get out of control. The same idea was covered in an episode of the Simpsons, something to do with a magic hammock that spit out copies of Homer.

I am revisiting this idea of substitutes as they might fill in for me in other, non-academic environments. I would most like someone to be my driver, so I could just lounge or read or nap while my sub filled in for me behind the wheel. I don't know that people know this about me, but I don't like eating (really) and so I wish I had a sub who could do the dirty work (all that cutting, chewing, swallowing, and worse yet, listening around the table to others masticating and burping, smacking, or eating with their mouths full). Just writing about the event of eating repulses me. But if I had a sub, he could fill in, so long as I gained the nutrient value. Heck, I'd even share the nutrient value, 50/50.

I would want a sub to fill in for those marathon grading sessions, for the frantic lesson planning, for even the many, many meetings that could otherwise be simply notes and email transactions. A sub could stand in line for me. A sub could do my chores, like mowing, laundry, etc.

Oddly, there are some seemingly unpleasant things I would still want to do, myself. I'd want to do the lectures. I would want to read my own books, as tedious as some people consider that act. I would even want to change diapers, myself, for there's some odd bonding that goes on there with one's offspring over a fragrant diaper.

Of course, I would like to think that in many environments, there simply is no substitute for ME...but I will leave that up to others to decide.

Always look on the bright side...

As hard as it is to do, this is good advice....



From Monty Python's "Life of Brian"

This blows!

Parents do the strangest things to their children. Watch any episode of AFV on ABC to confirm this.

There I was in Exploration Place, lugging around my daughter, when I saw an exhibit that used forced air [ten times as powerful as a blow drier] to demonstrate the Bernoulli principle (usually a beach ball is spinning in mid-air over this). It seemed like a good idea to put my darling daughter over the fan.

My wife was worried. My boys thought I was nuts....but young Ella thought it was about as cool as I did.

If nothing else, it made for a funny photo.

Introducing...web camming!

I am very excited (and grateful) that I now have a web cam! I do not know that I will post video footage here, but I do intend to use it in my courses. I also hope to use it for video-phone calls (Skype, VOIP...) but I do not yet know how much I'll use it for such things. I know I will employ it in desktop lectures, screen capture how-to's and the like.

I feel like a guy with one of those old telephones, the big boxy kind in which the ear piece was on a cord and the mouthpiece was a horn affair that jutted from the box; had to wind it up to ring and use it on a party line after all that... In the same way, I think all this compatibility crisis we have between software and hardware (and wetware for that matter) will be a thing of the past. Some fine day we'll be able to comfortably, afford-ably, flexibly have live-time video conferencing on hand held units. (You can see it in commercials--or in really old Dick Tracy comics--but it's still the stuff of dreams here in my office and lifestyle and most importantly, my budget.

Meanwhile, I'll cobble together whatever tools I can to communicate as well as I can and hope for the best, overall. As technology catches up to fancy, I'll be there in the stream.

Traditions

Big breakfast Sunday morning--we have a few traditions, but not one that rivals my love of FOOD, celebrated weekly with excess pounds of bacon, eggs, toast, sometimes waffles, pancakes, etc...we have this only once a week, while my grandfather ate such a feast every day of the week!

I love to eat, as is evident if you meet me.

Another eating tradition we have is to eat donuts most Saturday mornings. Mmmmm...donuts. We go to Newton, KS to the Daylight Donuts shop and bring home about $20 worth (but remember, there are nine of us, and we do have leftovers to snack on).

We also grill frequently. When we have guests, it's often on the fire pit, most often grilling lots of hot dogs and marshmallows using a wire rake. Good times.

Hmmm. Other eating traditions? We carve pumpkins in October. Every year I attempt to broil the seeds....fail. Maybe this year?

I'll add to this post or stream of thought.

"What if" entry

I spoke about this w/classes this week as an option for journaling, suggesting they write entries that speculated what life coulda/shoulda been like, had they only, or should they only...

If I'd decided to stay in Ark City after my dad died...

• I would have always wondered if I could have returned home and lived in Ulysses (since learned that you can never really go back).
• I would have never had this job at BCC, and thus, might not even have so many kids or so much fun at work as I do now--to say nothing of the fantastic people I've met, both staff and students.
• I would surely not be living in the country, for I was trapped in town, over my head in a mortgage, etc.
• I would have been too complacent and too content, yet also too wrapped up in the volunteer/service program that was taking 60 hrs a week or more out of my life's blood.
• I would not now have my in-laws living with me, and thus would have missed out on the family and closeness and intergenerational charm that a blended home can sometimes offer.
• I would have missed out on much of the technological advances I am afforded access to at this job, from an iPod to a Flip camera to (now) a webcam.
• I would not be working with such great folk as I do, including the very great staff of the online program (unparalleled, anywhere) and the English dept crew here (such good people!).

That's just scratching the surface! This is just one fork in my road and where it's been leading. I find this practice to be just as rewarding when looking ahead to what choices I may have in the future and to speculate on what will happen when I take one course over another.

Tons o' fun.

Chaos is come again!

Sometimes, I feel like I am suspended over a cavernous yawn of chaos, that it is there, ever-present, just squirming to devour me. I feel like the thread I'm hanging from is more frail than a spider's web. It's a filament of the most fragile material known to nature, and it's stretching to a breaking point, soon, yes very soon.

It's coming in around me, at my peripheral vision now, so close and dark I fear turning my head to look right at it. It's beneath me, and I keep my chin up, though I know it is there. I can see it through the tears I force back. Sometimes it's what they might call depression. Sometimes it's a feeling of dread or overwhelm. Usually it's foreboding unfettered, and after time, it's often unfounded.

This time, however, it seems so tangible, so unavoidable.

Eeek.

What can I do to thwart it? No amount of list making seems to affect it. There's not a prescription to ward it off or fight its infectious jaundicing of my day. It seems that the best in planning (and planning tools) just seems to irritate chaos, to stir it up from the bottom of the pond even more violently.

I clench my fists and brace for it.

Televised = mesmerized

Well, this one is hard to explain. I loved the x-files. I've enjoyed Heroes. Now, a new low? I dunno. I really have a great time watching Warehouse 13. It's tons of fun and nothing but a good hearted romp into sci-fi/fantasy. The cast is quirky and witty. The scenarios per week are nuts, but enjoyable escape.

The general premise is that there is a vast collection of dangerous artifacts supercharged with paranormal power, everything from Timothy Leary's glasses to HG Wells' pen. There's a super-secret team of curators who attempt to track and secure these artifacts. There's humor. There's history. There's a steampunk motif....and oodles of science fiction fruitiness. I'm hooked.

Saddle-up.

The picture above is of my four kids in their new boots.

It's that time of year again, when I tuck in my shirt, shave regularly, and try to be somewhere on time--I really get spoiled over the summer!

Students are such a positive force in my life. I hope they realize how much inspiration I draw from them, how much enthusiasm I siphon off of their collective juice. If I did not get my regular, semesterly fix from them, I wonder what I'd do for a charge... I watch my collection of "teacher films" every year, but they do not compare to the thermonuclear white-hot glow of a room full of real, live college folk.

Goofy said it best: "I've got a yearnin' for learnin'" and truly I do. I hope my students can also share in this yearning, if they do not currently have it within them yet.

So now to wax on about my children. In the boot picture, the trained eye can actually see a lot of personality. The kid with the red boots? obviously a wildcat. The one on the far left, a nurturer helping to hold up little sister (she with the tiny boots and ruffled jeans). That bow-legged fellow with the Ostrich skin boots off to the right--truly an individual who is just as happy to go it alone, like Batman (only without the baggage...or utilty belt).

We're going to get this picture blown up big and hang it over a doorway somewhere. It really captures the personalities of my kids--at that moment when their boots were new.

Raaaaaaaiiin!

So I was merrily whittling away on my work this afternoon when I heard--though I found it hard to believe--thunder! My office has no windows, is burrowed deep in the bowels of a Wal-mart sized building...so when I did find a window, I was shocked! The rain is coming down sideways, just like home (western Kansas, where we did not know precipitation fell from above, for it was always windy).

I surely hope it is raining like this at my property, some 20+ miles north, for we need it on the garden and grass. (I guess, on the bright side, I've not had to mow for a month.)

Rain is so invigorating. Have I ever tired of it? I cannot fathom such a thought, not right now, when I'm so happy to have it again. I am acting like we've been in some horrible drought, but it's not even been a month, honestly, since we had a shower. (Back home, it was often 6 weeks w/o a drop.)

If I did not have so much work to do, I'd kick off my shoes and go run in the rain, right now!

For better or worse

Well, I had 3 days of something-like-summer recently. I was able to take each one of my boys out and spoil him for a day. Jax, the oldest, liked video games, air conditioning, and a movie at the Palace. Carson, on the other hand, wanted a tour of regional lakes (we hit 6). Edison, age 3, was thrilled to spend the morning at the zoo, then ask to share the afternoon with his brothers swimming in a lake and playing at a splash park.

My wife and I even had 1/2 a morning together out on the town. We even got to eat at a restaurant with silverware and plates!

All this after the big, annual back-to-school camp out bonanza we always do at our farm. (I think, now, that we should just call it that: the bonanza!)

That's all the "for better" part of the post, all an improvement on last post's "un-summer" woes. I have since eclipsed all the sorrows of that post with my current state of affairs, tuning up classes with all new books and online content. I was hoping to finish today, but it looks like a long weekend ahead. *sigh* Eventually, it will all be worth it.

I have withdrawal symptoms when away from my family. I also get a nervous tick in my eye when I work this much on the computer non-stop.

The un-summer

This summer has seemed to be lackluster. There have been no exotic family trips (though I did go to NYC, it was not the same and not w/family). No kids were born (though Ella did celebrate her first birthday). We've had no major construction projects, where in past years it was remodeling the house, building the carport, etc. I have, of course been working on the pirate ship steadily, I guess, but that is not yet a milestone project.

I should not belly ache. My best friends are in more complicated straits:

• wife battling and recovering from cancer
• being deported to Afghanistan
• enduring a liver transplant

...while I am just boo-hooing being bored and overworked.

Nonetheless, things have seemed humdrum. Yes, I taught 3 extra summer sections. Yes, I've kept the farm mowed and maintained. Yes, I've been home most of the time for people. Yes, I have my health.

I just feel like 1/2 a guy, like I'm running on battery backup and not full-charge. I look around at all that I've not done, all that I'm not doing, and I get more and more undone. I think of how I longed for summer, but that now that it's waning, I'm realizing (as I do with every season and semester change, everyone's birthday, every turn of the calendar) the moment is passing.

Summer....it escapes me.

Prezi for Me

I saw this cool presentation software used in the TED talk I shared yesterday, and since then, I've become a user. Here's a representative presentation (not my own) that really rocks:

Power of storytelling on Prezi

I like it better than PowerPoint for so many reasons, a primary one being that it builds and moves like I do--non-linear. I also don't care much for monopolies like MSppt. Annnnnd, I hope to dazzle a few students with this stuff (since they've been numbed by ppt).

James Geary, metaphorically speaking | Video on TED.com

James Geary, metaphorically speaking | Video on TED.com

This is outright awesome and should get some discussions going in my classes.

InfoWhelm and Information Fluency

InfoWhelm and Information Fluency

THIS is something I'm sure to show my classes this fall, maybe in the opening week(s). It's really where our courses on research and communication need to be going. I hope to win over hearts and minds with such an angle.

Character--built!

A couple of entries back, I was dreading a trip due to my deep-seated fears of cities. I can't cross that off the list entirely, but I can say I have had some insights....

1) we're all the same, really, just a bunch of insecure bags of water making our way

2) people of NYC were indifferent, not at all preying on my ignorance but more helpful than I ever expected

3) nobody approached me for anything (back to insight 2) = anonymity and invisibility which I often prefer

4)NYC (well, we were really mostly in Manhattan) is just iron and stone, brick and mortar, and a whole lot of people squished together

This last one seems silly, but 'tis truly an insight. Like when our iconic heroes are leveled to be mere actors, like when our flawless parents prove to be all too human--the emblem of NYC that forever loomed over me as some Thing that I am not is now...well a very big town that one walks in, rides through, navigates about like anything else. It is not impenetrable. It is not impregnable nor impossible to manage. People there are, indeed, steeled up for speed, chaos, crowds, crime--but they are also very much still juuuust people. (You could take someone off the streets of NYC and dress them like a Kansan and no one could readily see a distinction.) They watch the same shows [Warehouse 13] we do (well, and some there also watch $250 a night Broadway shows). They eat fast food, [Subway] same as me. Even the TV channels were very much like I'd watch in Ulysses. This last insight, this "sameness," really surprised me. I don't know what I'd expect them to watch and do....maybe to be constantly cosmopolitan or criminal--I don't know. I have found, at any rate, that traveling together on planes, buses, etc. levels the playing field, puts us all on the same page, makes us all 'mericans.

This also puts me on the cusp of something that I know to be true, yet in my schema have yet to prove to myself: that even people the world over are more similar than different. We may not all be Americans, but we're all people...basically good people. I know that's right, but I have many more hurdles to overcome before I'll ever be able to walk the streets of Jakarta or Tokyo comfortably.

Someday I hope to be that savvy.

Lost Generation

So, a student exposed me to this piece of writing recently...


It's clever, and it's got a great message, too.

Rube

I am, admittedly, a rube (aka yokel, rube, hick, yahoo, hayseed, bumpkin) which by definition suggests a person who is not very intelligent or interested in culture.

I am about to embark on a venture to the East, to the very core of all-things big-city, New York, New York. (Yes, the Sinatra song is now playing on my internal iPod.)

Image source

I am also hearing that old Pace Picante sauce commercial punchline, "New York City!"

So, here's the skinny. I'm pushing 50, yet I've never spent time in NYC. I've spent a week in London, a month in Mexico, weekends in KCMO and traveled to many big cities, but...

NYC is the epitome of all I grew up loathing. When I was a kid, I somehow, somewhere, developed this idea that all East of Wichita (well, more likely even Dodge City) was urban, citified, paved, and generally speaking, bad. Really, 'tis truth. I was under the impression that it was all a bunch of drug dealing prostitution and gangsters (of the urban and Italian strains). I had absolutely no interest in heading East.

I know full-well that all the above is poppycock. I am certain there are good people everywhere, that there is, say, even grass and the occasional tree in NYC. (I wish I had time to go to Central Park.)

Nonetheless, even the more realistic me expects to be lost (which I generally like, but not there!). I expect to be approached by panhandlers (ugh) and prostitutes (well...) and I know I will be "out of my element."

I also know that all such things build character, and I'm so hesitant to go on this venture (all expenses paid, even) that I know I must really be in need of a character builder!