"I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move." ~Robert Louis Stevenson
I'm starting to get itchy feet again. I have been looking at other houses and other cities and wondering if the grass might be green there, too. I don't know why I do that. Maybe I inherited it from my grandmother. She moved about every 5 years. There was something within her that drove her from house to house, state to state.
There's this great old house very close to the school I work at. It's a three story Italianate. It has the tower and everything. Right now, it's almost hidden behind overgrown grounds, but it has a magnolia and azaleas, and with some love could be beyond beautiful. I imagine that the inside has hardwood floors, probably worn and scuffed, and tall ceilings. I imagine that the view from the tower window looks out across the rooftops of the other houses, and that I could probably just see my school from it. I look at the old hammock on the porch and imagine a summer afternoon with a book. I think I'm in love with that house.
Of course, this is house adultery. I also love the house I'm in right now. This is my family legacy and my family home. It sits on seven acres and has more space than I and another couple of families could use. It has a privacy that a town lot, no matter how large, could never give. Every time I walk through, I can feel the love of my grandparents surrounding me. This set of grandparents, my mother's parents, lived in the same house for more than 20 years. From them, I get the desire to nest.
One day, that great old Italianate will go on the market, and I'll have to make a choice. I'll have to either turn in and take a look or grip the wheel and come home. I don't know if the gypsy or the nester will win out in the end.
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Monday, April 25, 2005
Natchez
"Welcome to Natchez, Mississippi - the oldest civilized settlement on the
Mississippi River!" -- Official Natchez Webpage
I spent Friday in Natchez. Natchez is amazing. I hadn't been there since our 5th grade Mississippi Trip, and all I remembered about it was Longwood.
This time, I got to walk around and appreciate the beauty of the town. I love river towns anyway. They all seem so calmly saturated with history. The downtown was sort of genteelly shabby. It seemed that it was impossible to turn without finding an interesting shop or a wonderful old house.
I also went back to Longwood. It's amazing. I kept thinking, "What would it have been had it been finished?" I could almost picture it in my mind as the docent described the marble that was to go on the floors. Looking up into that unfinished expanse stretching five floors above me, I was in awe of Haller Nutt's dream. He included so many revolutionary design elements. He must have been an amazingly smart man.
I had sort of a weird thing happen there, too. The house is one of those places that feels...I don't know...watchful. It, in the tradition of all old houses in the South, is supposed to be haunted. Supposedly, when the haunting is active, the lights flicker, the chandelier moves, and things move by themselves.
The whole time I was in the first room of the tour, the lights flickered, and the chandelier started to shimmy. Not like a puppet on a string, but enough to notice. The tour guide kept looking at it with a puzzled expression on her face, but she didn't say anything about it until we got into the next room. A candle had fallen from a three candle candelabra, and she laughingly said, "Oh, Dr. Nutt and Julia are playing with things again." She picked it up and shoved it, and I mean twisted it with FORCE, into the holder. She wiggled it with her fingers. It wasn't going anywhere.
It stayed in the holder until we moved into the next room. Then, suddenly, it leapt out of the holder, off the table, and into the middle of the floor. I don't see how it could have gotten off the table by itself. It was strange. Nothing that could be proven, but I don't think I'd want to be there after dark. None of us commented on it, and we moved on to the upstairs part of the tour soon thereafter. I don't know whether I had a brush with Dr. Haller Nutt, but I really enjoyed his house.
I loved Natchez, odd stuff and all. I found a really amazing potter, Connor Burns, whose stuff I will have to have more of. I am just learning about U.S. pottery and I have so much to find out. I also found a potter who works in the Native American style and bought a very nice cat shaped rattle head figure.
In the confines of that one small city, there was pottery, Thai food (thank GOD), good BBQ, shopping, a blues festival, old houses, and everything I love to be around. I think I want to move to Natchez. Maybe then Haller Nutt could throw things at me on a regular basis. :)
Mississippi River!" -- Official Natchez Webpage
I spent Friday in Natchez. Natchez is amazing. I hadn't been there since our 5th grade Mississippi Trip, and all I remembered about it was Longwood.
This time, I got to walk around and appreciate the beauty of the town. I love river towns anyway. They all seem so calmly saturated with history. The downtown was sort of genteelly shabby. It seemed that it was impossible to turn without finding an interesting shop or a wonderful old house.
I also went back to Longwood. It's amazing. I kept thinking, "What would it have been had it been finished?" I could almost picture it in my mind as the docent described the marble that was to go on the floors. Looking up into that unfinished expanse stretching five floors above me, I was in awe of Haller Nutt's dream. He included so many revolutionary design elements. He must have been an amazingly smart man.
I had sort of a weird thing happen there, too. The house is one of those places that feels...I don't know...watchful. It, in the tradition of all old houses in the South, is supposed to be haunted. Supposedly, when the haunting is active, the lights flicker, the chandelier moves, and things move by themselves.
The whole time I was in the first room of the tour, the lights flickered, and the chandelier started to shimmy. Not like a puppet on a string, but enough to notice. The tour guide kept looking at it with a puzzled expression on her face, but she didn't say anything about it until we got into the next room. A candle had fallen from a three candle candelabra, and she laughingly said, "Oh, Dr. Nutt and Julia are playing with things again." She picked it up and shoved it, and I mean twisted it with FORCE, into the holder. She wiggled it with her fingers. It wasn't going anywhere.
It stayed in the holder until we moved into the next room. Then, suddenly, it leapt out of the holder, off the table, and into the middle of the floor. I don't see how it could have gotten off the table by itself. It was strange. Nothing that could be proven, but I don't think I'd want to be there after dark. None of us commented on it, and we moved on to the upstairs part of the tour soon thereafter. I don't know whether I had a brush with Dr. Haller Nutt, but I really enjoyed his house.
I loved Natchez, odd stuff and all. I found a really amazing potter, Connor Burns, whose stuff I will have to have more of. I am just learning about U.S. pottery and I have so much to find out. I also found a potter who works in the Native American style and bought a very nice cat shaped rattle head figure.
In the confines of that one small city, there was pottery, Thai food (thank GOD), good BBQ, shopping, a blues festival, old houses, and everything I love to be around. I think I want to move to Natchez. Maybe then Haller Nutt could throw things at me on a regular basis. :)
A Very Bad Day
"Never argue with a fool. People might not be able to tell the difference." -- Author unknown
Today, this quote saved me from turning into a frothing-at-the-mouth screaming idiot myself. A parent came for a conference that turned into a personal attack.
She sat there and accused me to my face of lying about her daughter and changing the attendance record. Her daughter is failing every single class. Her daughter's attitude is legendary. Yet, I am the villain. I am "picking on her" and apparently, have designed every aspect of my classroom management strategy, including other referrals for other students, with no other purpose than to frame her child.
I am offended to the core of my being. I could feel my blood pressure rise and I wanted to say and do so many things. This quote sprang to mind, and I suddenly just sat there and let her rage. It was clear to everybody what she was. I didn't have to defend myself. Everything is documented. The administration can tell when and if anything was changed in the system. I don't even know how to change stuff in the attendance program once it's entered.
She got so out of control that the administrator ended the conference. The crazy woman grabbed her papers and her child, tore down the hall screaming that her child needed a new class and a new teacher, and peeled rubber out of the parking lot. Everyone heard it. Everyone saw it. I was very proud that I managed not to leap across the table and rip her throat out with my teeth.
I know this isn't over. I know she or her mother is going to create a huge scene at least once more before the end of the year. As long as it doesn't harm my car or me personally, I'll consider it a good ending. I just want her gone. I'm tired of fighting her crap attitude and watching it infect my other students.
Mom brought me a carton of ice cream and I think I'm going to go dive into it. Today was a bad, bad day. Tomorrow, hopefully, will be better. I'll try to update tomorrow.
Today, this quote saved me from turning into a frothing-at-the-mouth screaming idiot myself. A parent came for a conference that turned into a personal attack.
She sat there and accused me to my face of lying about her daughter and changing the attendance record. Her daughter is failing every single class. Her daughter's attitude is legendary. Yet, I am the villain. I am "picking on her" and apparently, have designed every aspect of my classroom management strategy, including other referrals for other students, with no other purpose than to frame her child.
I am offended to the core of my being. I could feel my blood pressure rise and I wanted to say and do so many things. This quote sprang to mind, and I suddenly just sat there and let her rage. It was clear to everybody what she was. I didn't have to defend myself. Everything is documented. The administration can tell when and if anything was changed in the system. I don't even know how to change stuff in the attendance program once it's entered.
She got so out of control that the administrator ended the conference. The crazy woman grabbed her papers and her child, tore down the hall screaming that her child needed a new class and a new teacher, and peeled rubber out of the parking lot. Everyone heard it. Everyone saw it. I was very proud that I managed not to leap across the table and rip her throat out with my teeth.
I know this isn't over. I know she or her mother is going to create a huge scene at least once more before the end of the year. As long as it doesn't harm my car or me personally, I'll consider it a good ending. I just want her gone. I'm tired of fighting her crap attitude and watching it infect my other students.
Mom brought me a carton of ice cream and I think I'm going to go dive into it. Today was a bad, bad day. Tomorrow, hopefully, will be better. I'll try to update tomorrow.
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Tired
"I was too old for a paper route, too young for Social Security and too tired for an affair." -- Erma Bombeck
I am so tired. I would like to sleep for about a week. The combined stress of state testing, regular end-of-the-year insanity, and preparations for this summer trip are about to finish me off. I'm not sleeping much or well. As you can tell by the time of the post, I should be in bed, but I've just finished working on something I've got to have for a weekend meeting, and even though I'm exhausted, I don't think I could sleep.
Whenever I feel like this, I always wonder if I'm supposed to feel like this. Am I so tired because I'm doing the right thing well, or because I'm doing the wrong thing altogether? If I were in full-time ESL, would I be so tired? Is this a physical thing or an emotional one?
I love my kids. Most of them are a real joy. Watching them grow this year like seedlings breaking the surface of the garden soil has been an educational experience for me as well as them. Sometimes, though, it's just overwhelming. Right now, it's overwhelming.
The paperwork is endless. Today, one of my 7th period kids lost her mind and was sent out. All of them are acting nuts, and we still have 4 weeks of school left.
On top of all this, our lovely school board issued its new school calendar for next year. They've added more days to school and we now start back on Aug. 1. Why can't they see that more classroom days aren't the answer?
Anyway, I need to try to lay down and sleep. I have to take a trip tomorrow, and I guess driving and sleeping don't mix well. Maybe at some point I'm going to have 5 minutes for myself.
I am so tired. I would like to sleep for about a week. The combined stress of state testing, regular end-of-the-year insanity, and preparations for this summer trip are about to finish me off. I'm not sleeping much or well. As you can tell by the time of the post, I should be in bed, but I've just finished working on something I've got to have for a weekend meeting, and even though I'm exhausted, I don't think I could sleep.
Whenever I feel like this, I always wonder if I'm supposed to feel like this. Am I so tired because I'm doing the right thing well, or because I'm doing the wrong thing altogether? If I were in full-time ESL, would I be so tired? Is this a physical thing or an emotional one?
I love my kids. Most of them are a real joy. Watching them grow this year like seedlings breaking the surface of the garden soil has been an educational experience for me as well as them. Sometimes, though, it's just overwhelming. Right now, it's overwhelming.
The paperwork is endless. Today, one of my 7th period kids lost her mind and was sent out. All of them are acting nuts, and we still have 4 weeks of school left.
On top of all this, our lovely school board issued its new school calendar for next year. They've added more days to school and we now start back on Aug. 1. Why can't they see that more classroom days aren't the answer?
Anyway, I need to try to lay down and sleep. I have to take a trip tomorrow, and I guess driving and sleeping don't mix well. Maybe at some point I'm going to have 5 minutes for myself.
Monday, April 18, 2005
Who's Out There?
"A single rose can be my garden; a single friend, my world." -- Leo Buscaglia
I often wonder who is reading this little blog. I know my good friend DEG is out there. It's funny. He and I have communicated more through this blog than we have in years. Isn't that crazy?
I think several members of my family are reading it, too. Hello, assorted relatives.
I wonder who else sees it, or if anybody does. I don't necessarily put it out there to be read, but for some reason, when I noticed my counter had somehow broken 200, even though it advances every time I reload after an update, I was surprised.
Tonight's musing is short and largely pointless. If you're out there reading, you might leave me a post and let me know. Just to satisfy my catlike curiosity. ;)
I often wonder who is reading this little blog. I know my good friend DEG is out there. It's funny. He and I have communicated more through this blog than we have in years. Isn't that crazy?
I think several members of my family are reading it, too. Hello, assorted relatives.
I wonder who else sees it, or if anybody does. I don't necessarily put it out there to be read, but for some reason, when I noticed my counter had somehow broken 200, even though it advances every time I reload after an update, I was surprised.
Tonight's musing is short and largely pointless. If you're out there reading, you might leave me a post and let me know. Just to satisfy my catlike curiosity. ;)
Saturday, April 16, 2005
I Won!
"To be a poet is a condition, not a profession." -- Robert Frost
When my dad and I went down to run and fold our church's bulletin today, he asked me if I'd checked my mail today. That may sound odd, but sometimes I go a couple of days without doing that. Nothing very important ever comes to me except bills. Who needs them on top of a long day?
As we were coming back, he stopped and picked up what was in the box. In the pile was a letter from the people who sponsored the literary contest I entered awhile back (see previous postings). I won first place! I was so happy.
It turns out my mother already knew. A former teacher of mine and colleague of hers was the judge for the competition. The entries were all anonymous, but when she found out who wrote the poem she'd chosen, she called my mom and told her. Mom had been keeping the secret for about a week.
It's an extra layer of happiness to me that this former teacher was the judge. It's actually the second time she's chosen me for a poetry contest, but I bet she doesn't remember the first one. I wrote for and won a "Roses are Red" variation contest in 9th grade. It was my first competition win.
I will go to an awards presentation in a couple of weeks to receive the prize. I had hoped I'd win with one of the three poems I entered, but I'm not sure if I believed it would really happen. It's so encouraging. I'm glad I entered because I started not to do so. I haven't had anyone who could help me refine my work since my undergraduate days, and I was hesitant to put anything out there without some polishing.
I wish I had somebody to help me refine my stuff. My college creative writing professor was so amazing for that. He never pulled punches, and as a result of his classes, I made so much progress as a writer. One of the pieces I wrote for him took first prize at a competition I entered during college.
I've often thought of writing to him with newer stuff, but that's such an imposition and presumption. He is a producing poet himself and has new classes every year to help. I would feel strange about asking him to help me, random student from years ago.
This was a much-needed encouragement. It renews my desire to write again. Not for the prizes. Not for any kind of victory. Rather, because, as the quote at the beginning says, the poetry is a part of who I am, and it's a part I've been keeping locked away since Japan. It's time to open the doors and see what happens.
When my dad and I went down to run and fold our church's bulletin today, he asked me if I'd checked my mail today. That may sound odd, but sometimes I go a couple of days without doing that. Nothing very important ever comes to me except bills. Who needs them on top of a long day?
As we were coming back, he stopped and picked up what was in the box. In the pile was a letter from the people who sponsored the literary contest I entered awhile back (see previous postings). I won first place! I was so happy.
It turns out my mother already knew. A former teacher of mine and colleague of hers was the judge for the competition. The entries were all anonymous, but when she found out who wrote the poem she'd chosen, she called my mom and told her. Mom had been keeping the secret for about a week.
It's an extra layer of happiness to me that this former teacher was the judge. It's actually the second time she's chosen me for a poetry contest, but I bet she doesn't remember the first one. I wrote for and won a "Roses are Red" variation contest in 9th grade. It was my first competition win.
I will go to an awards presentation in a couple of weeks to receive the prize. I had hoped I'd win with one of the three poems I entered, but I'm not sure if I believed it would really happen. It's so encouraging. I'm glad I entered because I started not to do so. I haven't had anyone who could help me refine my work since my undergraduate days, and I was hesitant to put anything out there without some polishing.
I wish I had somebody to help me refine my stuff. My college creative writing professor was so amazing for that. He never pulled punches, and as a result of his classes, I made so much progress as a writer. One of the pieces I wrote for him took first prize at a competition I entered during college.
I've often thought of writing to him with newer stuff, but that's such an imposition and presumption. He is a producing poet himself and has new classes every year to help. I would feel strange about asking him to help me, random student from years ago.
This was a much-needed encouragement. It renews my desire to write again. Not for the prizes. Not for any kind of victory. Rather, because, as the quote at the beginning says, the poetry is a part of who I am, and it's a part I've been keeping locked away since Japan. It's time to open the doors and see what happens.
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
Ask and Ye Shall Receive....
"Every moment of your life is infinitely creative and the universe is endlessly bountiful. Just put forth a clear enough request, and everything your heart desires must come to you." -- Mohandas Gandhi
Today was so weird. It was a constant tidal flow of the good and the stupid.
I started the day with the discovery that some of my students had swiped about 7 of the meager number of copies we have of TKaM. Of course, in my extremely literary mind, this action is rife with irony. Not that I don't appreciate the literary merits of the situation, but it pissed me off to the N-th degree. We have nothing. They know we have nothing. They steal bits of the nothing we have.
Anyway, after a diatribe and lots of guilt (I learned it at my grandmother's knee, and NOBODY was better than she), I retrieved most of the books. I anticipate the others trickling in tomorrow.
After dealing with that crap, I got some really good news. After the PowerPoint presentations mentioned in the last post, I decided to look around and see if I couldn't find some way of getting one for the classroom. I looked up manufacturers of LCD projectors, located a rep for Mitsubishi Electronics, and wrote him a letter. Yesterday, I talked to another rep for a company that does demos for them. Today, I got confirmation. They are making us a great deal on a used demonstrator. I felt like I was walking on air!
I didn't really expect anything to come of my requests. I was so happy! Now I can do PowerPoints for other things. I have so many ideas already. I plan to incorporate pictures from this summer's trip to England into a PP about Shakespeare.
The day swung back down with some of my later classes. Other stuff also happened. In my infinite dumbness, I put the wrong shipping address on a package I ordered. I was pretty low when school ended.
Then the up-wave came again. It's not a big event, but it was nice. A prescription that I need was accepted by my insurance, so it no longer costs me a million dollars a month. I also found out that I don't owe the government anything this year on taxes. Two big pluses for me. Tonight when I got home, the company I ordered the materials from wrote me back to say they'd gotten the package as a return and were sending it to the corrected address. I didn't lose my money/stuff after all.
Even though today was a day of gains, I hope tomorrow is a little more even keel. I need some peace. The weekend was almost non-existent, and this week is taking its toll. Whenever I get too tired, every little thing affects me more than normal. This weekend, I'm going to try to SLEEP!!!
Today was so weird. It was a constant tidal flow of the good and the stupid.
I started the day with the discovery that some of my students had swiped about 7 of the meager number of copies we have of TKaM. Of course, in my extremely literary mind, this action is rife with irony. Not that I don't appreciate the literary merits of the situation, but it pissed me off to the N-th degree. We have nothing. They know we have nothing. They steal bits of the nothing we have.
Anyway, after a diatribe and lots of guilt (I learned it at my grandmother's knee, and NOBODY was better than she), I retrieved most of the books. I anticipate the others trickling in tomorrow.
After dealing with that crap, I got some really good news. After the PowerPoint presentations mentioned in the last post, I decided to look around and see if I couldn't find some way of getting one for the classroom. I looked up manufacturers of LCD projectors, located a rep for Mitsubishi Electronics, and wrote him a letter. Yesterday, I talked to another rep for a company that does demos for them. Today, I got confirmation. They are making us a great deal on a used demonstrator. I felt like I was walking on air!
I didn't really expect anything to come of my requests. I was so happy! Now I can do PowerPoints for other things. I have so many ideas already. I plan to incorporate pictures from this summer's trip to England into a PP about Shakespeare.
The day swung back down with some of my later classes. Other stuff also happened. In my infinite dumbness, I put the wrong shipping address on a package I ordered. I was pretty low when school ended.
Then the up-wave came again. It's not a big event, but it was nice. A prescription that I need was accepted by my insurance, so it no longer costs me a million dollars a month. I also found out that I don't owe the government anything this year on taxes. Two big pluses for me. Tonight when I got home, the company I ordered the materials from wrote me back to say they'd gotten the package as a return and were sending it to the corrected address. I didn't lose my money/stuff after all.
Even though today was a day of gains, I hope tomorrow is a little more even keel. I need some peace. The weekend was almost non-existent, and this week is taking its toll. Whenever I get too tired, every little thing affects me more than normal. This weekend, I'm going to try to SLEEP!!!
Friday, April 08, 2005
A Taste of the Good Stuff
"Education's purpose is to replace an empty mind with an open one." -- Malcolm S. Forbes
I had the best day today. It started out stressful as I was trying to hook my laptop to my class TV for PowerPoint presentations. As usual in such situations, my laptop was uncooperative, and I was scrambling to fill the gaps with something while I worked. I finally borrowed the office's super projector thing, used the school's laptop (yes, we only have the one...we're a poor school), and got the presentation running. The kids were so into the presentations.
I gave a PP on the Civil Rights Movement and on the Jim Crow laws of the 30's to help them understand Mockingbird better. I had prepared the PPs for teaching Mockingbird in Japan, but the same material worked with my 10th graders.
I couldn't get over how involved they became. They were asking questions and all of them were awake and interested. For those of you unfamiliar with the world of modern secondary education, that in and of itself is a minor miracle. I encouraged them as much as possible to go home and talk to the people living in their own houses and communities who had lived through these events, and I saw some of them who probably never considered those people as anything except for "old" look consideringly.
After the PPs, they broke up into Reading Circle discussion groups where every person has a different facet of the material to present. I was unsure of how well they'd do or if they'd do the work involved, but all but 6 all day long did it, and by some miracle, even if it was only the miracle of the new, they enjoyed it. I felt almost reborn. It was almost like teaching in the college ESL programs in Indiana or Japan.
They left talking about the materials they'd seen. They left curious to read more. I have students who came to me with no interest in reading who are eagerly plowing their way through this book, and I'm so proud of them I could cry. It's not anything that I'm doing, but it's what they're discovering they're capable of themselves. It's what they are finally looking around and seeing in the world other than the trivialities of teenhood. I am so happy for them!
At the same time, I feel kind of like an anxious gardener with a tender new planting before me. I am worried that it won't take. I am worried that some harsh weather will come to shrivel it before its roots grow deep enough to support and nourish. I know not all of them will care, but to have some of them so interested is like a gift from God. Maybe I can make a small difference somehow.
I had the best day today. It started out stressful as I was trying to hook my laptop to my class TV for PowerPoint presentations. As usual in such situations, my laptop was uncooperative, and I was scrambling to fill the gaps with something while I worked. I finally borrowed the office's super projector thing, used the school's laptop (yes, we only have the one...we're a poor school), and got the presentation running. The kids were so into the presentations.
I gave a PP on the Civil Rights Movement and on the Jim Crow laws of the 30's to help them understand Mockingbird better. I had prepared the PPs for teaching Mockingbird in Japan, but the same material worked with my 10th graders.
I couldn't get over how involved they became. They were asking questions and all of them were awake and interested. For those of you unfamiliar with the world of modern secondary education, that in and of itself is a minor miracle. I encouraged them as much as possible to go home and talk to the people living in their own houses and communities who had lived through these events, and I saw some of them who probably never considered those people as anything except for "old" look consideringly.
After the PPs, they broke up into Reading Circle discussion groups where every person has a different facet of the material to present. I was unsure of how well they'd do or if they'd do the work involved, but all but 6 all day long did it, and by some miracle, even if it was only the miracle of the new, they enjoyed it. I felt almost reborn. It was almost like teaching in the college ESL programs in Indiana or Japan.
They left talking about the materials they'd seen. They left curious to read more. I have students who came to me with no interest in reading who are eagerly plowing their way through this book, and I'm so proud of them I could cry. It's not anything that I'm doing, but it's what they're discovering they're capable of themselves. It's what they are finally looking around and seeing in the world other than the trivialities of teenhood. I am so happy for them!
At the same time, I feel kind of like an anxious gardener with a tender new planting before me. I am worried that it won't take. I am worried that some harsh weather will come to shrivel it before its roots grow deep enough to support and nourish. I know not all of them will care, but to have some of them so interested is like a gift from God. Maybe I can make a small difference somehow.
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Clowns and other scary things
"People don't buy from clowns." -- Claude C. Hopkins
I guess Ronald McDonald would be considered the ultimate refutation of this....
Is anyone else afraid of the clownish thing Burger King is using in their ads now? If you haven't seen it, you can see a pic and a short clip here. The King is beyond wacky. He's the kind of thing that shows up in nightmares. He moves far too fast and with a stealth that's not conducive to calm affection. Only nasty things scurry like that...cockroaches, rats, psychopaths in movies...
I particulary hate the one where the guy looks out his window and sees a far away speck. He turns to say something to his wife or look at something, and when he turns back, that big old freaky plastic head is filling up his window offering him a heart attack for breakfast. They both laugh and the sun shines blissfully on a "happy morning."
I can tell you right now that I wouldn't be laughing if that thing showed up outside my window. I'd be grabbing either my kendo shinai or a baseball bat. One of my friends (who will probably read this eventually) was reenacting the commercial as it might go if it happened here in the Deep South. I kind of like this version better.
Scene opens: Freaky guy is a dot on the horizon.
Guy appears. Looks out window. Stretches and turns away momentarily.
Freaky Burger King Thing is suddenly filling up the whole window. Regular guy turns.
Sound of shell being chambered in a shotgun. Boom. End of Freaky Burger King Thing menace.
Another friend of mine observed that part of what makes the thing so scary is that he has normal human hands. I think that may well be part of it. For me, it's the stop motion movement and that big old smiling shiny plastic head. It reminds me of the freaky rabbit in Donnie Darko, which if you haven't seen, you should really check out. I also think that next Halloween's best selling costume could well be the Burger King if they'll put it into production.
Probably, the worst part of it is the same thing I (and probably lots of other people) dislike about clowns. There is no movement in the face. It is impossible to get any readings or any of those subtle body language cues we rely on for communication. I believe this is the reasons clowns rank so high on phobia lists (there's a term for fear of clowns... coulrophobia) and on lists of things people just generally find disturbing. When the face is hidden, so too are the motivations and the clues we need to figure out whether something is amusing or a threat.
For me, creepy Burger dude is a mix. I suppose as long as he stays on his side of the TV, everything is okay. God help him if I ever look out my windows and see that huge plastic head outside offering me any form of BK breakfast though.
I guess Ronald McDonald would be considered the ultimate refutation of this....
Is anyone else afraid of the clownish thing Burger King is using in their ads now? If you haven't seen it, you can see a pic and a short clip here. The King is beyond wacky. He's the kind of thing that shows up in nightmares. He moves far too fast and with a stealth that's not conducive to calm affection. Only nasty things scurry like that...cockroaches, rats, psychopaths in movies...
I particulary hate the one where the guy looks out his window and sees a far away speck. He turns to say something to his wife or look at something, and when he turns back, that big old freaky plastic head is filling up his window offering him a heart attack for breakfast. They both laugh and the sun shines blissfully on a "happy morning."
I can tell you right now that I wouldn't be laughing if that thing showed up outside my window. I'd be grabbing either my kendo shinai or a baseball bat. One of my friends (who will probably read this eventually) was reenacting the commercial as it might go if it happened here in the Deep South. I kind of like this version better.
Scene opens: Freaky guy is a dot on the horizon.
Guy appears. Looks out window. Stretches and turns away momentarily.
Freaky Burger King Thing is suddenly filling up the whole window. Regular guy turns.
Sound of shell being chambered in a shotgun. Boom. End of Freaky Burger King Thing menace.
Another friend of mine observed that part of what makes the thing so scary is that he has normal human hands. I think that may well be part of it. For me, it's the stop motion movement and that big old smiling shiny plastic head. It reminds me of the freaky rabbit in Donnie Darko, which if you haven't seen, you should really check out. I also think that next Halloween's best selling costume could well be the Burger King if they'll put it into production.
Probably, the worst part of it is the same thing I (and probably lots of other people) dislike about clowns. There is no movement in the face. It is impossible to get any readings or any of those subtle body language cues we rely on for communication. I believe this is the reasons clowns rank so high on phobia lists (there's a term for fear of clowns... coulrophobia) and on lists of things people just generally find disturbing. When the face is hidden, so too are the motivations and the clues we need to figure out whether something is amusing or a threat.
For me, creepy Burger dude is a mix. I suppose as long as he stays on his side of the TV, everything is okay. God help him if I ever look out my windows and see that huge plastic head outside offering me any form of BK breakfast though.
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
update
Short tonight, and no quote. Things are rocking along pretty well. Good Mockingbird discussion..more about it tomorrow. I'm, as a colleague says, "beat to my knees."
Friday, April 01, 2005
Why tea kettles Whistle
"Patience: A minor form of despair disguised as a virtue." -- Ambrose Bierce
Actually, I value patience very highly. It's a very important part of my job. I pray for more all the time. Patience and wisdom are hard-won, though. Today and yesterday have been trying my patience in the extreme. I've figured out that it's not the heat under the kettle that causes the scream. It's the inability to vent in any other way.
Not the kids, first of all. They've not been worse than is normal. It's been a week of administrative mandates that have completely wrecked my lesson plans. We had to give a practice test for the big state test coming up later in the month. It's the 3rd time around on this, and even the slowest of my kids were saying, "We are doing this AGAIN?!?!" I explained that its purpose is to show how they've grown over the year and to point out any particular skills for practice before the real thing, but none of us could scrape up much enthusiasm for it.
We got word that the change had to be made on Wednesday. No kidding. Less than 24 hrs. notice. My Type-A personality took the change with all the grace of a freight train suddenly derailed. I HATE it when somebody changes set plans at the last minute. If it's a casual thing, it doesn't matter, but when I put as much work into planning and pacing my lesson plans, it's a big slap in the face to have them so carelessly swept aside.
So, teakettle-like, I've sat in my room, mostly at my desk, for the past two days. I have filed piles of papers, graded and recorded others, set up my computerized gradebook and started working on entering grades for it, and even hung some posters that had fallen long ago and been shoved into a corner. Things are spic-and-span (where did that phrase come from, anyway?) and ready for parent-teacher day on Monday. I hated it. Every minute of it. I felt useless. I wasn't helping them learn. All I was doing was babysitting and cleaning. I could feel the steam building, and by 7th period today, I wanted to shriek with it.
This isn't what we're supposed to be doing. We're supposed to be talking about To Kill a Mockingbird. They're supposed to be discovering how wonderful it is on their own. Instead, we killed two days. I can't remember the quote, but it says something like, "As if we could kill time without injuring eternity." Today, I think we gave it a nasty bruise, at the very least.
One of the things I'm going to have to learn is more flexibility, especially with the stupid trivialities that are so much a part of public education. I will just have to find a way to let it roll off my back. One of my friends was having a problem of patience and tolerance with a family member, and she developed the habit of saying, "Quack, quack" to remind herself to do that. I think I'm going to print that off the computer and put it somewhere on my desk. I need to be more duck and less teakettle.
Actually, I value patience very highly. It's a very important part of my job. I pray for more all the time. Patience and wisdom are hard-won, though. Today and yesterday have been trying my patience in the extreme. I've figured out that it's not the heat under the kettle that causes the scream. It's the inability to vent in any other way.
Not the kids, first of all. They've not been worse than is normal. It's been a week of administrative mandates that have completely wrecked my lesson plans. We had to give a practice test for the big state test coming up later in the month. It's the 3rd time around on this, and even the slowest of my kids were saying, "We are doing this AGAIN?!?!" I explained that its purpose is to show how they've grown over the year and to point out any particular skills for practice before the real thing, but none of us could scrape up much enthusiasm for it.
We got word that the change had to be made on Wednesday. No kidding. Less than 24 hrs. notice. My Type-A personality took the change with all the grace of a freight train suddenly derailed. I HATE it when somebody changes set plans at the last minute. If it's a casual thing, it doesn't matter, but when I put as much work into planning and pacing my lesson plans, it's a big slap in the face to have them so carelessly swept aside.
So, teakettle-like, I've sat in my room, mostly at my desk, for the past two days. I have filed piles of papers, graded and recorded others, set up my computerized gradebook and started working on entering grades for it, and even hung some posters that had fallen long ago and been shoved into a corner. Things are spic-and-span (where did that phrase come from, anyway?) and ready for parent-teacher day on Monday. I hated it. Every minute of it. I felt useless. I wasn't helping them learn. All I was doing was babysitting and cleaning. I could feel the steam building, and by 7th period today, I wanted to shriek with it.
This isn't what we're supposed to be doing. We're supposed to be talking about To Kill a Mockingbird. They're supposed to be discovering how wonderful it is on their own. Instead, we killed two days. I can't remember the quote, but it says something like, "As if we could kill time without injuring eternity." Today, I think we gave it a nasty bruise, at the very least.
One of the things I'm going to have to learn is more flexibility, especially with the stupid trivialities that are so much a part of public education. I will just have to find a way to let it roll off my back. One of my friends was having a problem of patience and tolerance with a family member, and she developed the habit of saying, "Quack, quack" to remind herself to do that. I think I'm going to print that off the computer and put it somewhere on my desk. I need to be more duck and less teakettle.
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