Monday, November 30, 2009

T-Shirt Arrives

My "Attack of Literacy" shirt arrived today.  It's even better than I had hoped.  The graphic is huge and the printing quality is probably the best I've ever seen on any shirt.  I am blown away.  I want to wear it to school tomorrow, but I can't figure out a way to fit it into teacher dress code.  Maybe if I throw a staid blazer of the top of it?  It's fantastic.  It has just become, along with my trusty Howlin' Wolf festival shirt and my Dr. Who tee, the garment students are most likely to sneak up and find me wearing in bookstores and Wal-Mart when I can actually not have to wear my Teacher Person armor.  Yay!  Thank you, Threadless.  I will definitely be getting more stuff from you.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Science and Magic

It's easy to believe in magic when you're young.  Anything you couldn't explain was magic then.  It didn't matter if it was science or a fairy tale.  Electricity and elves were both infinitely mysterious and equally possible - elves probably more so.  ~Charles de Lint

I love this quote.  It reminds me of another one that I've always found equally intriguing, "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic," by Arthur C. Clarke.
 
One of the primary human characteristics is the desire to explain, explore, deconstruct.  We are curious little critters, and if you give us a mystery, we will work our fingers raw trying to pry it open and figure it out.  We need to know, in fact.  Our species has a very decided fear of that which we cannot process out and categorize.

This, ironically, is coupled with the desire to believe in something.  All men worship gods, every culture, every time period, every language and land.  We seek after something infinite, something larger than ourselves, something to fill that innate need inside.  All the way back to the very beginnings of time, belief is as ingrained as invention and exploration.


Are these two separate facets?  Do science and magic really have irreconcilable differences?  I know lots of people think so, but I never have.  I have always seen them as brothers.  We are seeking to know, we were gifted with that drive to learn and classify to help us see reflections of that which can never be fully understood at all.  The world we see and know is the prism splitting the pure white light of the divine into a rainbow of the visible and comprehensible.


I think we forget sometimes that science is not an end unto itself.  Too frequently, I think our particular culture has replaced the respect for the divine with our love of curiosity, the tool has become the focus instead of the purpose for which it was forged.  Perhaps we do know now more than we ever have before, but when we look around us at the magnitude of what is left to discover, I think the sheer wonder of the magic needs to creep back in.  I think we'd be better off for it.

Friday, November 27, 2009

The Brindled Cow

So today's animal adventure started about three o'clock.  It seems so many things start about three o'clock.  I don't know why.  I guess if things started early in the morning, they'd finish up in a normal fashion and there wouldn't be all this...stress and tension...overnight.  Never let it be said Life isn't a raving Drama Queen.

Anyway, I got a harried call from my father asking if I could go to our vets and pick up meds that were being prepared as we were talking.  Of course I could; I was just watching TV and being lazy.  I put on shoes and an old sweatshirt and made a flying trip in to town, the second time in three days I've been to the vet's office.  Right now, it is not a place with happy memories for me. 

I picked up the stuff and a very odd looking tool used to shove really huge pills down a cow's throat and came back home.  I took the meds to Mom and Dad's house and walked up the hill to the barn to find that they'd corralled one of the brindled heifers.  She's in bad shape.  We spent the next ten minutes putting a rope around her neck and medicating her.  Then she laid down and the real problems began.

We tried and tried to get her back up on her feet, but she weighs about 400 lbs.  Four hundred pounds of weak and uncooperative angus are not very easy to manipulate.  Mom finally managed to irritate her to her feet by continuing to try to feed her until she got tired of it and got up to get away from it.  She stood for about ten minutes and then she slowly folded back down again.  Although she seemed a little more alert, she didn't get up again.

She was pitiful.  I petted her and soothed her as best I could for awhile longer, but eventually, I just came home.  There's nothing else to do now.  Either she will recover with the help of the medicine or she won't.  I don't think she's going to survive.  I am getting awfully tired of death.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Decisions

Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds. ~ Oppenheimer on the day of the Trinity nuclear test, quoting from memory the Bhagavad Gita


The vet woke me this morning at 7:00.  I'd only been asleep about four hours because I read all night last night, a blissful holiday night of devouring books.  I could tell from her voice that the news wasn't good, and I woke right up, crisis giving me the ability to cast off my usual morning fog. 

Yesterday's cat was injured and was so feral and wild that just to try to treat him would require major medicine and sedation that might kill him in the process.  He can never be returned to the wild and will never domesticate.  Their recommendation was to put him down humanely.

I've never made a life-or-death decision over anything larger than an insect in my whole life.  I have three cats of my own who are, in the way of ridiculous single women, as dear to me as little furry children.  I love all animals, even that feral black male tom who clawed and spat all the way to the vet yesterday in his temporary imprisonment and pain. 

I told them I would call them back, and I got off the phone and cried.  I knew what the right thing to do was.  Had I found it in the woods yesterday in agony and unable to live, I would have gotten Daddy to ease it from this world to the next because that would have been the right thing to do.  It is not right to let anything suffer needlessly because of personal weakness or squeamishness. 

This felt so different, though.  Maybe it was because he hadn't been torn open.  I know he was injured, and badly, too, or my vet would not be recommending this course of action, but I still had to think.  I did, however, have to decide quickly.  They had to have my decision fairly fast to know how to procede.

As I said, I knew what the right thing was.  And even though I feel like a part of me somehow died when I made the phone call, I know that what I told them was the right thing to do for that animal.  We'll go get him tomorrow and bury him here with my own departed ones.  He was never mine at all until this last, but at least I can make sure that the leaving of this life is as merciful and as full of honor as I can make it.  The rest of it I will just have to live with somehow.

Spock Monkey


Do I really even need to say anything to go along with this?

One More Thanksgiving Quote

For, after all, put it as we may to ourselves, we are all of us from birth to death guests at a table which we did not spread.  The sun, the earth, love, friends, our very breath are parts of the banquet.... Shall we think of the day as a chance to come nearer to our Host, and to find out something of Him who has fed us so long?  ~Rebecca Harding Davis

A Thought for Thanksgiving

Gratitude is the sign of noble souls.  ~Aesop

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Star Trek Spock Cell Phone Charm/Keychain by iKtizo on Etsy


Speaking of Star Trek and my fondness for Spock...  I found this cute little thing on Etsy as I was surfing around tonight.  Isn't it amazing what people can make?  This seller has the whole Enterprise crew, Superman, Batman, and others, too, in this same cute style.  Now if only my Berry had a keitai charm bracket....

Star Trek Spock Cell Phone Charm/Keychain by iKtizo on Etsy

The New Star Trek

I watched the new Star Trek tonight, courtesy of Netflix (yeah, I finally sent back those two movies I've had sitting on the TV for three months...).  I am still processing it, and I think I want to watch it again before I send it back.  It wasn't what I was expecting.  I liked it a lot.  I thought it was well done.  I liked the casting, and I'm always a fan of alternate universe settings.  Some of you know that very well (LOL).  I liked that the characters were basically who they were always supposed to be despite the externals.  I think that's important to do in AU.  The fundamental core remains although the expression of it may be different because of the forces that shape it.  That's the fascinating thing about AU. 

One thing I really liked was the whole Spock/Uhura thing.  It is such a, if you'll pardon the phrase for a minute, "logical" paring.  It made me happy.  But then again, you know how I am about the tall smart guys.  I've always been much more about Spock than Kirk myself....  Sigh.

I don't know if they're planning on turning this into a whole AU series or if this was a one-film experiment.  Regardless, I enjoyed the adventure.  I may even go so far as to buy the DVD.  It was nice to go back to the beginning of the franchise again and do some things fresh and new again, to enjoy it in a new way, and to see all the "accepted canon" flung joyfully out the window and really make me pay attention to get the storyline.  We wound up in the same basic place in the end, but the getting there was the fun part.

Animal Issues

I was trying to read today when I heard my little dog barking frantically.  When I went outside to check out what was going on, I found that the dogs had treed a large black cat which made the mistake of coming down when it saw people.  Roux gave chase into the woods, and Mom (who was down for a visit) and I tried to follow to see if we could prevent Roux's destroying the cat.  Ultimately, we were able to get Roux out of the woods, and we tracked the cat down as well deep in the woods near the creek. I don't know if it ran there or if Roux dragged it there.

It was very much alive, and after navigating the woods with my knee, Mom and I used a large bathtowel, a two-front approach, welding gloves, and a lot of distraction to capture it.  There were no visible wounds, but I could tell that Roux had gotten her mouth on it.  That means she did "the shake" with it probably, and that's devastating.  Roux herself came home with her face cut to ribbons, so this tom gave as good as he got.  He is very large, and if Roux had not shut her eyes, he'd have blinded her on one side.  I crated the cat and took him to my vet.  I still don't know the outcome since he had to be calmed before he could be worked with.

My knee is twinging, Roux is exhausted and sore, and I don't know how Warrior Prince the Cat Lord is.  It has just been a very long day.  I hope this is my animal day for this holiday.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

A New Telling of the Canterbury Tales


I was at Borders today sitting in a comfortable if worn leather chair and luxuriating in the joy of being in a real bookstore when I looked up at the tier of books that lines the top of the store. A blue and white cover with a curving ribbon caught my attention, and I glanced at it again to read The Canterbury Tales and Geoffrey Chaucer. I couldn't see anything more than that, but my curiosity was piqued. I had been looking for something new for The CT for awhile since it is one of the major works I teach, but I haven't found anything good for some time. I asked one of the guys who works there to get a copy down, and I was delighted to see that the book was a newly published retelling of the Tales.

I cracked the cover with no little trepidation because retellings go one of two ways, either a fantastic rediscovery of a beloved work or a complete destruction of the same. I've read all the way through the introductory notes, the general prologue and am almost done with the Knight's Tale, and I am finding this version very readable, very much in keeping with Chaucer's voice, and delightful in its own way. Is it going to replace the music and bright wit of Chaucer's own heroic couplets? Well, duh, no. What could? Is it something that I can use to expand the experience for pleasure reading for myself and for comprehension assistance for students who struggle? Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah.

It was a lucky find, brought on by a simple stray glance. I'm going to savor this trip to Canterbury. It's always such a good trip, after all.  If you're interested, you can check it out for yourself, at amazon at the link below:
Amazon.com: The Canterbury Tales: A Retelling (9780670021222): Peter Ackroyd: Books

Monday, November 23, 2009

Silly Thoughts While Watching The Prisoner (Vintage)


Is it wrong, really, really wrong, for me to want a Rover for my own private use at school?  I think we could take care of a number of our discipline problems at school with one.  Forget security and high speed chases.  Just push the button, call an orange alert, and RAAAAAWRRRR.....  It would even helpfully take them downstairs to the office when it caught them. 

Yeah, I'm almost positive it isn't a good thing to want one of these.... Next thing you know I'll be carrying an umbrella and wanting "Information"....

Attack of Literacy!


Oh, I love this shirt. I've been waiting on Threadless to reprint it, and today I got an email that said it was finally back in stock. Yay! I know I'm a literary geek, but even we lit geeks have to have fun somehow, and this is the "funnest" lit geek thing I've seen in awhile. The shirt's designer made a key for the authors depicted in this design, and I found it in his comments about the shirt. It's amazing how many authors of classic literature he managed to squeeze in to this one graphic. See how many you can find.

"Attack of Literacy!" - T-shirt by Joshua Kemble

Sunday, November 22, 2009

e e cummings print


e e cummings the heartfelt print by amandaatkins on Etsy

I adore Cummings. His poetry is sometimes complex, like walking a maze, requiring a meditation and concentration to reach the center. Not all his pieces are twisty this way, but all of them are so gloriously full of him. While I as a writer don't chose to emulate his innovation with syntax and punctuation, I pray for the day my work can capture my heart as fully as his did his own. Think I'll go take my nightly dose of cold medicine so I can breathe (the sickness rages on), and end this day with some Cummings before I drift off.

This piece of art is on Etsy.   If you like it, you may click the link above and grab it...if you're fast.  I may beat you to it.  This one, I can actually afford.  There's a companion piece for T.S. Eliot, too.  

Pretty Little Ginkgo Plate


Ginkgo are my favorite fall tree. The delicate leaves always remind me of ladies' fans. I also remember cool fall days riding my bike down the alley of huge golden ginkgo on the Aidai campus, wind rustling them into a cascade of beauty all around me. This little tray is a lovely reminder of that. Might have to get it on payday if it hasn't been snapped up by then.

Pretty Little Ginkgo Plate Yellow by sumiko on Etsy

Changes (Dresden Files, Book 12)


So I'm cruising through amazon as I do whenever I'm not doing something else online, and I stumble across this in my recommendations. I clicked it to see when it was coming out (not until April) and to see what the blurb might be. Four words caught my attention: Dresden has a child. What the....? Oh, tricky Jim...what have you done now? And how could you possibly be so cruel as to make me wait five months for it? I can only pray he's written a ponderous tome this time because my only complaint ever with the Dresden Files is that they're always over too soon. I've already got this in my amazon cart. Now I just have to figure out how to be patient until it gets here.

Amazon.com: Changes (Dresden Files, Book 12) (9780451463173): Jim Butcher: Books

Another Reason to Love My Kindle

I just downloaded and installed the Kindle for PC app today, and it makes my Kindle-ing experience just that much richer.  I think it was a necessary addition. In many ways, it reminds me of  iTunes, and I think it is the piece that 's been lacking (if anything has been) from the use of the device.  I like that I can use my netbook as an ereader now, too.  Lots of people who are on the fence about Kindles can try out the joy of the ereader with the Kindle iPhone and PC applications and see what it's all about.  Once they get the Mac platform up, I think everybody will be pleased.  If you haven't tried it yet, I encourage you to do so.  It's free, and there is an entire universe of free books out there just waiting for you to devour.  All the Kindle apps will synch across devices, so if you start reading on your phone during a waiting room visit, grab ten minutes during lunch on your computer, and then retire for the evening with your Kindle it will keep your place marked for you.  Love it, love it, love it. 

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Sick, Of Course

It's Thanksgiving, so of course I must be sick.  It started coming on yesterday, and right now, I just want to breathe.  Ick.  Hate this.  Hate that I wind up spending every holiday recovering.  Ick. Ick. Ick.  Time for a dose of Nyquil and then bed.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

From Voyage of the Damned

The Doctor: Right then, follow me.
Rickston Slade: Hang on a minute. Who put you in charge, and who the hell are you anyway?
The Doctor: I'm the Doctor. I'm a Time Lord. I'm from the planet Gallifrey in the Constellation of Kasterborous. I'm 903 years old and I'm the man who is gonna save your lives and all 6 billion people on the planet below. You got a problem with that?
Rickston Slade: No.
The Doctor: In that case, allons-y.

I swear, David Tennant must have had so much fun playing this role just because he got to say stuff like this periodically.  Where else do you get to say stuff like this with a straight face?  I am going to miss him in this role.  He was so funny, geeky, sweet, and perfect.  I hope the new guy can live up to it.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Dying from the Lack

I talked to a student of mine today who has no idea what he wants from his future.  No plan.  No goal.  No dream.  He's not alone.  Too many of my students from year to year are sitting passively or, worse yet, hopelessly. 

How do you teach somebody to have a dream?  It breaks my heart, crushes me totally, to see these beautiful people sitting there like broken butterflies waiting for some end when they should be just now starting to soar upward.  Why don't they know how talented and capable they are?  How did it come to be that so many of these lives seem to have ended almost before they've begun?

I want them to know that the entire world is theirs if they will just reach out their hand for it.  I want them to have a dream in their heart and chase it fervently, relentlessly.  I want them to take Joseph Campbell's quote, "Follow your bliss" and carve it into their hearts as a mantra, a maxim, as map.  I want them to hunger for something, anything instead of just hanging their heads and accepting whatever is tossed to them or thrown at them.

I wish I knew how to kindle that fire. I wish I had a magic wand to wave over them.   I wish I could hold them or shake them, preach to them or beg them and help them find it.  Ultimately, though, I don't know if anyone can give it to another person.  I think every person has to discover that spark inside him or herself and nurture it or it can't grow at all.  I will continue to lead them as far as I can and tell them how wonderful they are, but I still wish I knew a better way.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Final Thoughts on the New Prisoner

Whoa.  I just finished up the new Prisoner on AMC.  THAT took a hard left turn and went places I didn't expect....  It actually was quite good and ultimately quite in keeping with the original despite the different tone.  While it won't replace the original series in my affections, I think it was really well-done.  I need to see it about three more times to go back and get everything that was going on.  It was very much like LOST in that respect, that only in the final moments do all the little bits and pieces finally mesh.  I still can't believe how it ended.  I did not see that coming at all.  Of course, it's nicely set up for a series now.  I don't know if they'll put it into production, or if they can maintain the level of intensity with a weekly that they've had with this six-hour mini.  One can only hope, I guess.  I'd like to see the continued fallout from tonight's events.  If you watched it, I'd love to know what you thought....

Mikan

I got a bag of mikan yesterday at the grocery store, and I am trying to pace myself.  It's hard, though.  Such sweet, juicy goodness is hard to resist. 

Mikan and green tea always remind me of autumn in Japan.  I always used to keep a big bowl of them on my coffee table and when the air turned cool, I'd make tea in my favorite beautiful blue-green teapot and peel and drink.  The sweetness of the mikan helps to offset the bitterness of the tea.

I love the pungent smell when they're peeled, too.  It is somehow sharper and better than a regular orange.  The way it hangs in the air and fragrances my fingers after the fruit is finished is an added pleasure.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

The Freaky Pre Chick

And not to over-post today, but what the heck is it with that chick from the Pre commercials?  Does she scare anybody else?  I know I tweeted about her when those commercials first started airing, and then she went away for awhile.  Now she's back again with her messed-up, semi-psychotic Mona Lisa-esque happiness over her stupid phone.  She's just abnormal, too still, or too tranquil or something.  I know I'm not alone in this one.  They have stopped showing the one where the "voices" talk to her, I think.  I guess that's something, at least....

AMC's Prisoner

I'm about an hour into the new version of The Prisoner on AMC, but I don't know yet how I feel about it.  So far, I am not sure about it.  They seem to be weaving in elements of LOST somewhat, but it's not nearly dark enough yet.  For one thing, there isn't that candy-coating on this place that hides the malice.  That was such an essential part of the original series.  It was what made the original so creepy.  They're also not letting McKellan live up to his true evil potential yet.  He has within him Richard III and Macbeth, so I know he's got some serious badguy chops.  They need to let him loose.  I hope this is going to get better as it goes.  Otherwise, it's going to fall into that category of things that came sooooo close but missed the mark.
OMG. (Excuse the text language, but this IS a mobile post...). I have a frippin' BANJO in my car... Run! And cover your ears!

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Robert Johnson art on Etsy


This piece by Kevin Bradley is fantastic. I would have it if I could figure out any way to afford it. The work in the wood cut is amazing, and of course, I love that it's Robert Johnson. If you are a blues fan and are more "flush" than I, head over to Etsy at the link provided here and snap one of these limited editions up. Maybe I'll come over and drool over it sometime.
Testing out the mobile service

Imagination

I imagine, therefore I belong and am free.
Lawrence Durrell

This entry is for L & L who were my tree-climbing-go-cart-driving-wild-yahoo-co-conspirators on all the adventures of our childhood, for A and C who continue to be my partners-in-crime and Wonder Women (even if we don't fly that much anymore), and for H who won't read this but whose red cape brought all of it back to my mind.

Something turned my mind back over the days of my childhood and the joys of imagination recently, and it's been like discovering an old box of pictures tucked up in a forgotten corner of a closet. I've been thinking about all the long summer days, all the games, all the things we used to do when we were little, and I've had sort of a permanent smile on my face the past couple of days over it.

The tree where our monkey swings once hung is a memory now. It died long ago, and Katrina felled the husk of it. Only an uneven place remains in my front yard to mark the spot where so many pleasant hours of fun were spent. I can still remember, though, as if the pecan tree's verdant canopy still shaded that ground, my cousins and me playing there. Those swings were planes, wings, and flying horses for us, and we spent untold hours there. The heavy marine-grade nylon ropes had to be replaced routinely because we wore them out so frequently.

We took from somewhere the idea that we were medieval knights, got some of my grandmother's heavy walking sticks from her collection in the house, and did aerial combat with them. Joust was one of our favorite games, swinging through the air and clashing the walking sticks together like swords or lances, depending on our whims. We did that for years....until one of our parents happened to see it. I think it was my Dad. Needless to say, he wasn't best pleased.

Looking back on it, a lot of our favorite games were a little dangerous. Climbing the big magnolia that still sits at the end of my driveway wasn't dangerous, but tossing the "grenades" of the cones definitely was. Some of the things we did with the old golf cart, the go cart, and the four-wheeler probably qualified, too.... The time my friend decided she was Wonder Woman and jumped off the china cabinet in her living room definitely counts. She did get airborne, though, for a splendid minute. It almost offset the moment of unconsciousness that followed....

Whatever we were doing, whatever the risk involved (or however blissfully ignorant of it we were), I remember those times as days of glorious joy. I remember sailing through the yard on bikes transformed into motorcycles, Roman chariots, western horses, space vehicles, and the cars from the Dukes of Hazzard sometimes with a blanket tied around my own neck to make a cape if the fantasy called for it (and sometimes if it didn't, because hey, who doesn't look good in a cape?). I remember taking every single extra quilt my grandmother had and turning the front bedroom into a giant tent/castle/fort in which each one of the three of us had our own highly-contested, organized, and decorated zone. During the long summers, we were Egyptian gods, Dr. Who, and Star Wars characters. We taught ourselves hieroglyphics and Germanic runes. We explored Native American legends from all over North and South America, picked out Apache names for ourselves, and tried to learn how to use bullwhips. We ransacked every library in our reach to feed whatever our current obsession happened to be at the time.

I believe I am a better adult because of those days of wonder as a child, and not just because I have so many beautiful memories to turn over in my heart like light-filled jewels. I found interests then that I continue to pursue now, and I also became aware of the world as a place of amazing and interesting things if only I would look for them. I think all of us, all of my friends who used to go with me on those voyages of exploration in our backyards and backrooms, continue to enjoy the world of fantasy, too, continue to enrich our lives with our own dreams and the dreams of others. We may not be running through the yard with our walking sticks clashing or our Wonder Woman Underoos on these days, but we're all still free, as Durrell says, because we can imagine.

Friday, November 13, 2009

The Smell of Print

So I'm out of every conceivable thing here at the house except for the necessaries (cat/dog food and toilet tissue) and I really should have gone to Wal-Mart after school today. I just could NOT face it. Just the thought of having to push a buggy up and down the aisles made me shudder. So I didn't.

Instead, I went to what passes for a bookstore here in town and meandered up and down the aisles. I went in there with a specific book in mind. I hardly ever go in otherwise. I get almost everything I want bookwise from Amazon because I frequently get frothing mad at our local store for not having what I need/want when I need/want it. Today, however, was different. All I really found myself wanting was to be surrounded by the soothing presence of books.

Ever since I was a tiny child, the presence of books has been a comfort to me. I remember my mother going into the mall to do major shopping in the large chain stores and taking me to what was then Bookland. She'd drop me off with firm orders not to leave the store, and I'd happily spend hours sometimes browsing and reading while she did whatever had brought her to the mall in the first place. I was seldom done when she returned.

Libraries are the same kind of refuge. During my undergraduate days, I would often just go up to the stack tiers and hunt very old magazines to see what things looked like then even if I didn't have a research project going for the delight of discovery and the peaceful feeling of all that collected "knowing" surrounding me. Of course, sometimes the stacks weren't the world's safest or most peaceful place, but probably the less said about the freaks the better....

There's really nothing like a book, nothing like the weight of it in the hand, the delightful ruffle of the pages under the fingertips. Even though I love my Kindle and love reading with it very much, I think if all the books were gone from the world and all we had left were e-texts, something very precious would be gone. I would miss the physical delight of opening a cover, rustling those leaves. Some works just demand being held in my hands, it seems.

I bought too much today as I always do. I can no more turn away an interesting-looking book than I can a pitiful-looking animal or a needy student. They all call out to my basic nature, I suppose. I have a shelf now in my sun room full of "to read" books. I have big plans to plow through some of them tomorrow including my new one. What a pleasant thing to have to look forward to for a weekend!

Geek Gear


When I finally got home tonight, a little brown box was waiting on me. I didn't quite squee, but it was a very near thing... My latest treats from ThinkGeek had arrived. I have been driving my cat nuts with the Star Wars lightsaber laser pointer ever since. Sigh. You know what? Some days, life is just good.

In all seriousness, I love ThinkGeek. They have stuff I've never seen anywhere else that is fun, geeky in ways even I never thought to ask for, and actually useful. I have found some tools there that I would absolutely cut somebody if they tried to make off with because they are so well-thought-out. Of course, mostly, when I'm shopping from their site, I find myself more drawn to the fun stuff than the practical things....

An example of this, other than the aforementioned laser pointer, would have to be my USB plasma ball. It is one of the neatest little desk gadgets I have. I love it, and my students seem to find it amusing as well. I've always wanted one, and this one runs right off my big USB hub. Of course in that same order, I also bought a Zilla multi-tool so I could feel all righteous about it... "Um, yes. The plasma ball is just...um...an extra..." Riiiight.... Which one do you think has gotten more use so far? Hmm.....

I try to ration myself on the site. I'm eternally grateful they're not a retail store or oh, how the money would fly from my pitiful grasp. Ah, well, at least there is finally a place catering to folks like me. And long may our geek flags fly.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Teacher Stories

I just got home from a meeting, and during the course of the evening, many tales of past teachers were exchanged. These were told with great zest and detail. Impersonations were witty and well-done. And, without exception, the stories were farcical, pitiful, or horrifying.

Great God in heaven, if nothing else is ever granted to me, please don't let me wind up as one of these stories.

I mean, sure, not every student is going to like me. I know for a fact that stories about me exist. I have too many mannerisms (the flying hands I can't talk without, the large vocabulary I fling about, the pauses when I speak caused by my migraine meds, etc.) not to be copied facetiously. This in and of itself is just a part of teaching high school and not something I worry about, actually.

What I don't want to become perceived as is what I heard going around the table tonight. I heard tales of teachers who belittle, teachers who criticize, teachers who tear down and destroy. I heard tales of teachers who hit, teachers who insulted, and teachers struck at the very inner heart of their students. I kept thinking, "Oh please don't let there be a student somewhere telling something like this about me..."

I wonder if the teachers who starred in those tales knew they were like that. Did they know that they were being callous, cruel, and damaging? Would they care?

I hope that if I'm this way somebody will tell me. Otherwise, I guess I'll just hope the stories are fond ones.

Sunday, November 08, 2009

Refuge

I want to take a day off and just drive. I don't know to where. Just get in the car one morning with a full tank of gas and point it in a direction and be surprised when it stops by what surrounds me. The idea of that kind of discovery is incredibly appealing right now. I'm tired. Everything that surrounds me feels like it is a battle, a struggle, a cruelty, or a lost cause, and my shining armor is getting more than a little dented and my sword is dull. I need a place of refuge in which to hide for just a little while to pick myself up again.

Tonight, I chose "It Is Well With My Soul" for my offertory just for the pleasure of feeling those chords sing up through the organ and through my tendons and marrow. I had all the stops set on the organ, and it was as majestic as our organ can get. I don't know if anyone else in the church was moved, but it was a soul-deep prayer from me, and a petition. Right now, there is a whole lot that is not "well with my soul," but with that song, I pray that it can be, that I can learn for it to be again.

As with any time I play that song, my mind went back to my beautiful friend P. who plays the piano with such amazing passion and skill. I thought of his arrangement of the hymn, and for a moment, I wished I could just curl up under his piano for awhile, catlike, and hide there, become somehow detached from everything except the music for just a little while until things felt like they were less insane or ridiculous. Maybe then my head wouldn't hurt so much....

I guess nobody really gets to run away, though, in the real world. The ties that hold us bind us stronger than steel cables, more surely than straitjackets. There's really nothing to do for it but take another Maxalt and get some sleep.

Friday, November 06, 2009

Dancing in the Dark

We've been having major electrical issues at school the past three days, and we've been without electricity for the better part of those days while the students were there. It's been odd. The whole campus hasn't been dark; two of the three main buildings that comprise our campus have been fine. The biggest and oldest section has been the one that hasn't had any power because one of the main breakers has gone bad suddenly. It went bad Wednesday about 3rd period, and we've been dealing with on-again, off-again outages since then.

At first, it was frustrating because of the shifting of lesson plans, but by the beginning of the second day, it was just amusing. There was no point in getting upset. After all, it wasn't something that was happening on purpose. They had crews down there trying to fix it pretty much constantly for the past three days, and somebody said they even flew some guru in from the coast. (I don't even want to think about what that means is actually wrong with the electrical in our beloved old building...)

The kids were all good, at least in my class, anyway. I don't know about elsewhere. For what I teach, electricity is really sort of optional. It's nice, but hey, as long as we can see, we're good. We raged on. I know some of the other classes, particularly our computer classes, didn't have that option, though, so I hope everything will get patched up this weekend.

This week was a challenging one, and one that really stretched everybody's flexibility to the maximum. Maybe this means we're due for something really nice as a surprise soon. This is what I keep telling myself, anyway...

The Prisoner


For my payday splurge this month, I bought the box set of the original series The Prisoner. I'm going to dole them out bit by bit until I the new AMC series premieres. Along with Dr. Who, The Prisoner, is one of the series that I remember from my childhood. I don't think I ever saw all the episodes, and I know I didn't see them in order. I remember being perpetually confused by it, but I think that is one of the hallmarks of the show, actually.

I watched the first one, "Arrival," tonight, and it is strange and wonderful. I had forgotten just how weird a place The Village really was, how much sinister stuff was hidden under than bright candy shell. It's a perfect example of a dystopia, really, and I might use it this year when I teach my dystopian novels.

I'm looking forward to seeing all of these originals and then seeing what AMC can do with their remake of the series. It's always risky when something old and beloved is redone, but I love Ian McKellan, and if anybody can pull of that sort of jovial and threatening demeanor that Number 2 is supposed to have, he's it. We'll have to see if Jim Caviezel can handle the brooding rebellion essential to Number 6. If so, it should be a good show.

Wednesday, November 04, 2009

Home Early

For about the last week, I've been staying at school late for one thing or another, as late as 7:00 the last few nights. Today, I just decided to pack it in and come home before the sun went down. It was great.

I had to walk out and leave a big pile of stuff in my room that I'll need to catch up on tomorrow at some point, but it was somehow such a relief to lock that door on it and walk away. It was almost like going on vacation, somehow, just the stacking of papers on the desk and getting out before housekeeping turned out the lights on me.

I'll go in a little early tomorrow, stay a little late, but I know I'll be happier and better off for not pushing it unnecessarily this afternoon. There's no need to be chained to that desk every second of my life.

Sunday, November 01, 2009

Indecision

I'm writing this through the hazy filter of Maxalt after a sudden migraine, so if it doesn't make sense, that might be part of the cause. I probably can't blame the Maxalt for everything, though...

I'm very tired right now, tired, frustrated, and confused. I'm busy, and as long as I'm working, I'm fairly happy, but that's no great surprise. The students always make me happy. If I look away from them for five minutes, though... Everywhere things are bad, bad and, it seems, tenaciously determined to get worse....

I don't know what I'm going to do. Germany hovers in the back of my mind like something with broad wings looking for a place to land. Is this what is supposed to be next for me? Am I supposed to stay here? Do I just need to take a long vacation and sleep? What is making me feel this constant stress and pressure?

I hate the not-knowing-what-to-do. I could bull-in-the-china-shop this, but that's one shoddy approach to take to one's future, I've always thought. Maybe it just reaches a point where you have to and pray that when all the little pieces of crockery settle, you can live with the pattern they make.

On the other hand, maybe this is an exercise in patience and faith. Maybe I'm going to be shown the way if I keep looking for it. I have been before.

The thing I fear is that I AM being shown the door and that I am not realizing it, that it's going to close and that I'm going to be standing here in a situation where the water is rising all around me and there will be nothing left to do but go under. I fear that I'm really supposed to be somewhere else, and that by staying here, I'm actually doing the wrong thing because this place is home, is comfortable, is known.

I heard a song on the radio the other day from Matthew West called "The Motions" and the lyrics in part read

I don't wanna go through the motions
I don't wanna go one more day
without Your all consuming passion inside of me
I don't wanna spend my whole life asking,
"What if I had given everything,
instead of going through the motions?"

This is almost pure Thoreau, of course, but it's always been a philosophy of mine. I found myself sitting in the car in a parking lot, and I had to ask myself in my current frame of mind how long it's going to be before I might wake up one morning and be just going through the motions. I couldn't bear it. I couldn't live with myself if I did.

So now the question is stay or go. Find a way to refresh this life somehow or move on to another somewhere else. And the agony is that I just can't get any clear sense of what the right thing to do right now is. Maybe that in and of itself is my answer. Maybe if it really were time to spread my wings and fly away, then I would know it with the clearness of a silver bell ringing. I just don't know.