My discussion of this will follow after my students wrestle with it.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Balance
One of my favorite videos to discuss:
My discussion of this will follow after my students wrestle with it.
My discussion of this will follow after my students wrestle with it.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Life/Art "Low Rider"
I am listening to "Low Rider" by War, right now, moments before class. It's one of the songs on my Get Psyched to Teach playlist.
I bring this up only to mention that I was listening to this song for motivation years before Memphis Raines (Nicholas Cage) was even a character in Gone in 60 Seconds, well, the 2000 version, anyway.
I bring this up only to mention that I was listening to this song for motivation years before Memphis Raines (Nicholas Cage) was even a character in Gone in 60 Seconds, well, the 2000 version, anyway.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Aaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnnnnd they're off!
Yet another semester begins on the morrow.
I write about it every term, I think.
Few events offer such very-vivid ties to memories as a new semester, a first day of school. Oh, when I smell cantaloupe or fresh soil, I remember growing up on the farm. Visiting a grade school brings back lots of memories (and it reminds me how much I've grown since then--the furniture is so small!). A new term, though, stuns me every time. Like Johnny Mnemonic reviewing his contents, or a blipvert blast--it all comes back to me in technicolor (or maybe now-a-days, in HD, or 3D, or HD3D-Imax!)
When I walk in tomorrow, I'll remember the first college classroom in which I took the podium. It was frightening, as I was only a few years removed from my students (some, even as today, were my elders). I can still recall wading through the roster, taking roll aloud, botching a name: Chelsea (in my defense, I'd never seen it in writing before). I recall how they sat in wooden chairs with the wrap around desktop, how I tripped on one. I remember passing out recipe cards, even then, as I do to this day, to collect who's who. Remembering these things may not seem so remarkable--except that it took place in 1986--and if readers know me, I cannot remember where I parked, let alone something from the dark ages.
I will also remember my first college class--a night class in American Literature, taught by my old English teacher, in my old high school classroom, only a year after I'd graduated. I will remember the feeling of awe and confusion, that I was embarking on something I did not at all think I might be capable of doing!
I remember the second college course, too, at a large university. I was so ignorant then. I did not know what a credit hour was. I did not know it was odd that my prof was taking roll by social security number, that he treated us like grunts from day 1 to the bitter end. I was TERRIFIED, for it was Oral Communications, and I was surrounded by upperclassmen who all looked like the Bee Gees or the cool kids off the Brady Bunch. (Everyone puts off speech, which I was not advised of, and thus, I was the only freshman in the course!) I was a hick kid from Ulysses. Strangely, I do recall a fellow trying to tell the class about his hometown, Hoxie, which was even smaller than Ulysses...even now, 30 years later, that first day is forever ingrained in my memory.
For that matter, I can recall many firsts, many first days of school, all the way back to grade school...
Thus, I am NOT one to take the first day lightly. Inevitably, someone in the room will be in their first college classroom, even if I am teaching Comp II (some CLEP out, others had Comp I online or in high school, like I did my Am. Lit). I want to be a positive influence, offer a good encounter and a vivid memory for anyone who might be walking in the same shoes.
I write about it every term, I think.
Few events offer such very-vivid ties to memories as a new semester, a first day of school. Oh, when I smell cantaloupe or fresh soil, I remember growing up on the farm. Visiting a grade school brings back lots of memories (and it reminds me how much I've grown since then--the furniture is so small!). A new term, though, stuns me every time. Like Johnny Mnemonic reviewing his contents, or a blipvert blast--it all comes back to me in technicolor (or maybe now-a-days, in HD, or 3D, or HD3D-Imax!)
When I walk in tomorrow, I'll remember the first college classroom in which I took the podium. It was frightening, as I was only a few years removed from my students (some, even as today, were my elders). I can still recall wading through the roster, taking roll aloud, botching a name: Chelsea (in my defense, I'd never seen it in writing before). I recall how they sat in wooden chairs with the wrap around desktop, how I tripped on one. I remember passing out recipe cards, even then, as I do to this day, to collect who's who. Remembering these things may not seem so remarkable--except that it took place in 1986--and if readers know me, I cannot remember where I parked, let alone something from the dark ages.
I will also remember my first college class--a night class in American Literature, taught by my old English teacher, in my old high school classroom, only a year after I'd graduated. I will remember the feeling of awe and confusion, that I was embarking on something I did not at all think I might be capable of doing!
I remember the second college course, too, at a large university. I was so ignorant then. I did not know what a credit hour was. I did not know it was odd that my prof was taking roll by social security number, that he treated us like grunts from day 1 to the bitter end. I was TERRIFIED, for it was Oral Communications, and I was surrounded by upperclassmen who all looked like the Bee Gees or the cool kids off the Brady Bunch. (Everyone puts off speech, which I was not advised of, and thus, I was the only freshman in the course!) I was a hick kid from Ulysses. Strangely, I do recall a fellow trying to tell the class about his hometown, Hoxie, which was even smaller than Ulysses...even now, 30 years later, that first day is forever ingrained in my memory.
For that matter, I can recall many firsts, many first days of school, all the way back to grade school...
Thus, I am NOT one to take the first day lightly. Inevitably, someone in the room will be in their first college classroom, even if I am teaching Comp II (some CLEP out, others had Comp I online or in high school, like I did my Am. Lit). I want to be a positive influence, offer a good encounter and a vivid memory for anyone who might be walking in the same shoes.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Of Libraries and the Web
As confessed previously, I have an addictive personality. I imagine that sometime over these 5 years and (coming up on) 500 entries, I've mentioned that the web is just one of my almost-addictions.
I do not think I've shared the anecdote about the library, nor my association between libraries and information online....so here goes.
When I was a young lad, I was treated to a visit to our local library. At that time, it was not very large. The childrens' reading room was about 20 x 20. That little library did, however, have enough books to keep me busy. I won't say that I read them all, but I read many, many books. Whenever possible, I would sit out winter in that library or lug home as many books as they'd allow.
Then came college.
I'd mastered my little library, and I thought I was ready for a university library. If I could read one library, cover to cover, I could handle another, so I thought. I discovered Farrell Library, at Kansas State University, to be a bit bigger. [Farrell is now known as Hale Library, btw.] In truth, it boggled my mind. I'd never even encountered a library with more than one floor, let alone stacks of 8 levels! I was told the facility stored a million books--this was my first college object lesson, actually running my finger down the spines of those million books like they were a picket fence, from the top to the bottom floor. Prior to that, I had only a vague idea of what a million might really be.
I immediately got a job working there, filing cards in the card catalog (most folks today likely do not even know what a card catalog is, sadly.) I gave tours of the place to visiting friends and family, to lost peers and hot co-eds. Many interesting things happened back in the stacks in days of yore, including streaking, smoking, and much et cetera....or so I am told.
I do want to zoom in on that first day for a moment, however, for I have seldom been so very much in awe. I've always loved the smell and sound and weight of a library, but that library, posing its million volume challenge, was so impressive. More than any classroom or college quad, more than the most prestigious ivy league facade or pompous professor--that moment in that library foyer conveyed to me the power of the written word. It was as if millions of authors were there, in person, all staring at me (or perhaps chanting, "read me! read me!").
My reaction, honestly? I darted back into the stacks and hyperventilated (big boy's word for almost wept).
Fast forward near twenty years to my growing fascination with Al Gore's Internet. It was the 1990's, and I had a monochromatic monitor, but already I was wowed by the information (text only, back then) one could extract from the ether.
A few years later, as the web put on its pretty face, I was all-the-more enamored.
Now, like that day at Farrell, I approach cyberspace in awe. Like 1981, when I felt I had to read all of the million books, I find open portholes to what seems like infinite information, all at my fingertips....and I am insatiable. I am, admittedly, hooked.
Like all my almost-addictions, I am wary. I monitor my time online just like I do my time on television. In the same way that I look away from the window of Victoria's Secret, I force myself to look away from the techno gadgets I cannot afford (but crave). I guard myself, but there are days I lose the fight. I've found myself 6 hours into a web tangle, having opened so many tabs and windows and browsers my PC even gets too tired to carry on....but this has been very rare.
I love learning, I guess that's it. I am inspired by all that is there to learn, in libraries and online...and for that matter, from others, from travel, from introspection...
I do not think I've shared the anecdote about the library, nor my association between libraries and information online....so here goes.
When I was a young lad, I was treated to a visit to our local library. At that time, it was not very large. The childrens' reading room was about 20 x 20. That little library did, however, have enough books to keep me busy. I won't say that I read them all, but I read many, many books. Whenever possible, I would sit out winter in that library or lug home as many books as they'd allow.
Then came college.
I'd mastered my little library, and I thought I was ready for a university library. If I could read one library, cover to cover, I could handle another, so I thought. I discovered Farrell Library, at Kansas State University, to be a bit bigger. [Farrell is now known as Hale Library, btw.] In truth, it boggled my mind. I'd never even encountered a library with more than one floor, let alone stacks of 8 levels! I was told the facility stored a million books--this was my first college object lesson, actually running my finger down the spines of those million books like they were a picket fence, from the top to the bottom floor. Prior to that, I had only a vague idea of what a million might really be.
I immediately got a job working there, filing cards in the card catalog (most folks today likely do not even know what a card catalog is, sadly.) I gave tours of the place to visiting friends and family, to lost peers and hot co-eds. Many interesting things happened back in the stacks in days of yore, including streaking, smoking, and much et cetera....or so I am told.
I do want to zoom in on that first day for a moment, however, for I have seldom been so very much in awe. I've always loved the smell and sound and weight of a library, but that library, posing its million volume challenge, was so impressive. More than any classroom or college quad, more than the most prestigious ivy league facade or pompous professor--that moment in that library foyer conveyed to me the power of the written word. It was as if millions of authors were there, in person, all staring at me (or perhaps chanting, "read me! read me!").
My reaction, honestly? I darted back into the stacks and hyperventilated (big boy's word for almost wept).
Fast forward near twenty years to my growing fascination with Al Gore's Internet. It was the 1990's, and I had a monochromatic monitor, but already I was wowed by the information (text only, back then) one could extract from the ether.
A few years later, as the web put on its pretty face, I was all-the-more enamored.
Now, like that day at Farrell, I approach cyberspace in awe. Like 1981, when I felt I had to read all of the million books, I find open portholes to what seems like infinite information, all at my fingertips....and I am insatiable. I am, admittedly, hooked.
Like all my almost-addictions, I am wary. I monitor my time online just like I do my time on television. In the same way that I look away from the window of Victoria's Secret, I force myself to look away from the techno gadgets I cannot afford (but crave). I guard myself, but there are days I lose the fight. I've found myself 6 hours into a web tangle, having opened so many tabs and windows and browsers my PC even gets too tired to carry on....but this has been very rare.
I love learning, I guess that's it. I am inspired by all that is there to learn, in libraries and online...and for that matter, from others, from travel, from introspection...
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Why the Y?
I pledged to attempt fitness again this year, and today I took another step in the right direction. In spite of everything being closed due to horrible weather and roads, I attended my meeting with my trainer. It was scary showing up, but I did follow through.
Next, another meeting with the trainer in a week, but I should try to get in there sometime in the meantime. (If I don't, I fear dependence on his mentoring.)
Why the Y? The El Dorado one, at that? Well, it has all the equipment, and classes, and trainers, and a pool--all at a fraction of the cost of one of the upscale gyms around here. I wish I knew why anyone would go anywhere else...maybe there's some prestige or pecking order to it? The El Dorado Y has our family's needs at heart, including homeschool PE and remedial swimming for me.
The big question is: will I stick with it? Will I flake out, like most "resolution types" who are joining up these days, only to drop out in March...? I guess time will tell.
Maybe offering this public chronicle of my efforts will keep me accountable some, too.
Next, another meeting with the trainer in a week, but I should try to get in there sometime in the meantime. (If I don't, I fear dependence on his mentoring.)
Why the Y? The El Dorado one, at that? Well, it has all the equipment, and classes, and trainers, and a pool--all at a fraction of the cost of one of the upscale gyms around here. I wish I knew why anyone would go anywhere else...maybe there's some prestige or pecking order to it? The El Dorado Y has our family's needs at heart, including homeschool PE and remedial swimming for me.
The big question is: will I stick with it? Will I flake out, like most "resolution types" who are joining up these days, only to drop out in March...? I guess time will tell.
Maybe offering this public chronicle of my efforts will keep me accountable some, too.
Friday, January 07, 2011
CraigsList
Free classified ads. A novel concept. Simple enough, but in the era of online growth, Craig Newmark's idea really caught on. Now over 50 million people use the site regularly, making it the #7'th most high ranking per site visits of all English language sites. See for yourself on their factsheet.
I got a free couch, sold a goat, found lots of lumber, gave away truckloads of garage sale left-overs...and that's just the start.
I like CL because it is non-commercial and it's very democratic (of the people, by the people, for the people). Everything's there. Unlike E-bay, which reeks of mammon, CL has freebie pages, barter pages, forums on every topic, job announcements...you name it. Over 700 cities/regions are represented globally.
I suggest browsing CL for your area of the country and your area of interest. I lurk on the farm/garden link and the one for materials (translate: stuff for my ship).
CraigsList is awesome.
I got a free couch, sold a goat, found lots of lumber, gave away truckloads of garage sale left-overs...and that's just the start.
I like CL because it is non-commercial and it's very democratic (of the people, by the people, for the people). Everything's there. Unlike E-bay, which reeks of mammon, CL has freebie pages, barter pages, forums on every topic, job announcements...you name it. Over 700 cities/regions are represented globally.
I suggest browsing CL for your area of the country and your area of interest. I lurk on the farm/garden link and the one for materials (translate: stuff for my ship).
CraigsList is awesome.
Monday, January 03, 2011
What's with Pirates?
So, what's with Pirates?
Why do I thrive on pirate movies and lore? Why would I like to make myself a pirate wardrobe for a Renaissance Festival or Steampunk event?
What would lead me to build a 1/2 scale pirate ship in my back yard?
I dunno.
Last semester some student did ask me about my interest in pirates. He asked if I realized they were criminals. He questioned if it was a good idea for a faculty member to hang his hat on evil-doers.
Well, first of all, my pirating is all extra curricular, and my faculty persona cares little for pirates, probably even annoyed with their bad grammar. Yes, it is true pirates were criminals, just like software pirates and kids pirating music--all criminals. Particularly, pirates are thieves, taking away goods, merchandise, even slaves and ships. They operated under less than scrupulous circumstances, had little sense of honor or loyalty, and were always out for profit, for number one.
But they had character!
Contemporary thieves don't often find themselves lost at sea, facing mutiny, confronting an armada, being marooned for misbehavior. They don't have the flair in their wardrobe nor speech.
But Pirates--whew!!
Booty and style! Dressing up for shore? How about " a rich crimson damask waistcoat and breeches, a red feather in his cap, a gold chain around his neck, with a diamond cross hanging from it" like one famous pirate, Bartholomew Roberts (Black Bart)...he also is known for having captured over 400 ships. Henry Avery secured one haul valued at $52 million (in today's currency). Henry Morgan started as an indentured servant, but became a ruthless pirate, sentenced to two years in the Tower, eventually becoming the governor of Jamaica! Edward Teach (Blackbeard) would go into battle with fireworks blazing in his beard. Anne Bonny, a famous female pirate, bared her breasts in battle!
Like impressions of the Wild West, the era and practice of pirating has been romanticized and colorized beyond any shade of reality. I know that. Disney and the POTC franchise have once again popularized the pirate, employing none other than the lovable Johnny Depp to personify the paragon of pirating himself, Jack Sparrow.
Even if one can set aside the pirate hype, these people were fascinating.
Friday, December 31, 2010
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...
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!
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!
Sunday, December 26, 2010
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.
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.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Our house, is a very, very, very fine house...
What's being said/done around my house on Christmas eve morning....some quotes:
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...
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...
Thursday, December 23, 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
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.
Friday, December 17, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, December 09, 2010
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."
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."
Tuesday, December 07, 2010
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?
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?
Thursday, December 02, 2010
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.)
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.)
Wednesday, December 01, 2010
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...
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...
Monday, November 29, 2010
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!
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!
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
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">
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