I think we should talk, you and I. I think we should talk about pants, and we should talk about love, and we should agree beforehand that I'm going to ramble off in to other topics and write lots of run-on sentences. Stephen King spoke of, in his book "On Writing", an author who uses a lot of sentence fragments in his writing, stating that the author used a lot of frags because he heard a lot of frags. It seems I have the opposite problem. The aforementioned author heard too many periods, I don't hear enough. I suppose that's why there are copy-editors. Copy-editors are, of course, people who hear the sound of themselves correcting the work of people who are, in some cases, insanely rich. In correcting my own work, I can attest to the fact that it doesn't sound like a wealthy person's work being corrected. I could, I guess, alter the settings in windows to play a "ka-ching" noise every time I pressed the letter 'e'. 'E' is the most commonly used letter in the English language, according to Arthur Conan Doyle's immortal character, Sherlock Holmes.
But I said we were going to talk about pants, and love, and it seems to this point I haven't talked about either. In this particular case, I have to tell you, pants is a metaphor. Love isn't, or at least I won't be using it as one, just pants. Why pants? Because they're so much the same and so varied and they can almost all carry things, even the ones with girl pockets. I've considered, over the years, what it might be like to be female, and I've decided that it sounds a lot more difficult in most ways than it is to be male, owing in part to girl pockets. Carrying things is important, of course. Having been a janitor and a smoker, though both those things aren't presently true, I understand the value of being able to carry a lot of things in my pants. That sounds dirty and I just considered editing it out, but I've now decided that's okay, because it might not sound dirty in your head. Anyway, pants here is a metaphor for your views. It's good to wear pants, because they offer protection from the elements and allow you to carry things in a practical matter. It's also good to have views, because you should have things you stand for. Standing for things gives us a sense of identity, and a sense of direction in our lives.
In case I lost you, here's a math problem. Metaphor Pants = views = identity + self-direction.
In case you were wondering why I decided to use pants as my metaphor for views, it's because your pants, like your views, probably don't fit me, just like mine probably don't fit you. Understanding this is the beginning of empathy. Don't do unto others as you would have them do unto you, do unto them what they would have done unto them. I very much enjoy video games, and I enjoy receiving them as gifts. Steph does not enjoy video games, and it is through my empathy that I know, consequently, that she would not appreciate them as gifts despite my own preference. Video games are also excellent value for money. A $60 video game can, frequently, take over 30 hours to complete, meaning it offers entertainment for just $2/hour. Compare that to a movie you purchased for $15 that's only 90 minutes long. I won't even mention a trip to the movie theater. Books are also excellent value for money, especially ones you get from the library, though I encourage you to buy my books if I ever publish any.
Now we need to talk about love, because sometimes people's views on some topics seem to not have it, or not as much of it as they should have. The main reason for this, I think, is because of a lack of empathy. When we express our views, we sometimes lack the empathy required to realize that while we think we're expressing our views on a thing, what we're actually doing is expressing them about people. It might sound like you're saying, "Pokemon is stupid," but what the people who enjoy Pokemon hear is "People who like Pokemon are stupid". People don't make decisions about what they like, so it's hardly fair to criticize them for liking it. When I started watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the television series, I didn't say to myself, "I'm going to really like this, regardless of what it actually is". I grew to enjoy it, because it spoke to me, like good art does to people. Nor did I decide to fall in love with Stephanie. This last bit has been a metaphor too.
So go out into this world with your pants. Remember, they won't fit most other people. That's okay. I was taught, and likely you were too, that we're all the same. That was a lie, a well intentioned lie, but a lie just the same. We're all different, and that's okay. I learned early on that anything my parents made a big deal out of telling me was just the same as another thing, whether that was a group of people being just like me, or some new bit of food being just like one I already liked, or anything else, that meant it was different. I never saw the need for the obfuscation, and I don't see it now either. Wear your pants, people, and wear them with empathy, empathy borne of love for one another. Because every person you've ever met could be you. A slightly different set of DNA, some different parents, and that's you. Empathy.
Thursday, December 26, 2013
Monday, December 23, 2013
Of House Elves and Social Justice
J.K. Rowling had, and I expect still has, a lot to say on any number of topics told through the Harry Potter series. Her messages on love, the nature of good and evil, on sacrifice and duty, are difficult to miss. What wasn't so obvious, at least to me, was what she was saying with House Elves. Unlike so many of the other topics, there was no grand gesture, no plain lesson, but she devoted a goodly portion of the series to this subplot, so there must be something to it. After years of occasional mulling, I think I understand it, at least to a degree. What she was after, I think, was to convey some fairly harsh truths.
1. How a group feels about a thing doesn't change what a thing is. House Elves live in forced servitude - slavery. That they cheerfully endure this doesn't make it something else. Pay attention to how your feelings changed about the situation as you found that, with few exceptions, the House Elves were really okay with it. It's just the way they are, of course, so this slavery must be okay. It's the good kind. Only it's not, because it's slavery.
2. Otherwise good people can hold profoundly ignorant opinions. This is told through any number of characters, but exemplified best through the character of Hagrid. He insists that freeing the House Elves would be doing them an unkindness, and he consequently refuses to contribute to the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. That Hagrid is the least educated individual, and the closest thing to a bumpkin the stories contain, is likely not coincidental. That we discover in the same book, "The Goblet of Fire", that he has to endure plenty of prejudice himself speaks to how blind and lacking in empathy we can all be when confronted with the plight of another race.
3. In a broader extension of point 2, we have to talk about privilege. In the world of Harry Potter, wizards are the privileged class, and how that affects them can be plainly seen when it comes to House Elves. Hermione is determined at one point to gain access to the kitchens. Fred and George are agitated at the thought, proclaiming that her talk of freedom might put them off their cooking. In fact, it's only Mr. Weasely, Remus Lupin, and Dumbledore who seem to have any sympathy for Hermione's cause. Why? Privilege. To quote another blogger (the blog is here): "These social justice bloggers need to calm the fuck down," said the young white male blogger, bewildered and angered that anyone could take issue with a world that suits him so perfectly.
4. Boycotting is ineffective as a means of protest. There's a period of time when Hermione refuses to eat anything prepared by the House Elves, but quickly realized that wasn't going to matter. In the same way that the Walton family doesn't care that I refuse to shop at Walmart, the House Elves had hundreds of other mouths to feed. Mouths that didn't care or weren't even aware of their slavery.
5. Real change takes time. Apparently Rowling has alluded to Hermione, years after leaving school, as a member of the Ministry of Magic and that she has improved things a lot for House Elves. Change takes time, perseverance, and a powerful will.
Steph and I are doing well. We're staying Vermont over Christmas. I hope this find all of you well, and that you have a happy holiday season.
1. How a group feels about a thing doesn't change what a thing is. House Elves live in forced servitude - slavery. That they cheerfully endure this doesn't make it something else. Pay attention to how your feelings changed about the situation as you found that, with few exceptions, the House Elves were really okay with it. It's just the way they are, of course, so this slavery must be okay. It's the good kind. Only it's not, because it's slavery.
2. Otherwise good people can hold profoundly ignorant opinions. This is told through any number of characters, but exemplified best through the character of Hagrid. He insists that freeing the House Elves would be doing them an unkindness, and he consequently refuses to contribute to the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. That Hagrid is the least educated individual, and the closest thing to a bumpkin the stories contain, is likely not coincidental. That we discover in the same book, "The Goblet of Fire", that he has to endure plenty of prejudice himself speaks to how blind and lacking in empathy we can all be when confronted with the plight of another race.
3. In a broader extension of point 2, we have to talk about privilege. In the world of Harry Potter, wizards are the privileged class, and how that affects them can be plainly seen when it comes to House Elves. Hermione is determined at one point to gain access to the kitchens. Fred and George are agitated at the thought, proclaiming that her talk of freedom might put them off their cooking. In fact, it's only Mr. Weasely, Remus Lupin, and Dumbledore who seem to have any sympathy for Hermione's cause. Why? Privilege. To quote another blogger (the blog is here): "These social justice bloggers need to calm the fuck down," said the young white male blogger, bewildered and angered that anyone could take issue with a world that suits him so perfectly.
4. Boycotting is ineffective as a means of protest. There's a period of time when Hermione refuses to eat anything prepared by the House Elves, but quickly realized that wasn't going to matter. In the same way that the Walton family doesn't care that I refuse to shop at Walmart, the House Elves had hundreds of other mouths to feed. Mouths that didn't care or weren't even aware of their slavery.
5. Real change takes time. Apparently Rowling has alluded to Hermione, years after leaving school, as a member of the Ministry of Magic and that she has improved things a lot for House Elves. Change takes time, perseverance, and a powerful will.
Steph and I are doing well. We're staying Vermont over Christmas. I hope this find all of you well, and that you have a happy holiday season.
Friday, November 8, 2013
The Ramblings of a Writer Waiting for Reviews
Clarice Lispector once said, “Who has not asked himself at some time or other: am I a monster or is this what it means to be a person?" and sometimes I think about this a lot. I remember laying on the couch and opening up Twitter on my iPad and seeing that something was going on in Newtown, Connecticut, and the tears that came when I learned what that was. I remember the staggering disbelief when the explosions went off at the Boston Marathon, and then I noted this last week that the shooting at LAX only elicited a sigh and a thought of gratefulness that only one person had been killed. Am I monster? Perhaps I have finally become, as all the so-called experts during the rise of violent video games in the 90's put it, desensitized? I won't rule those two out, objectivity is in short supply when analyzing oneself, but I don't think so. I think the human ability to cope is elastic, and that elastic stretches a great deal under very little weight at first, and then less and less, until it snaps, and maybe this is my way, and probably the way of many others, of avoiding that break. I'd like to hear your thoughts on this.
It was announced today that former Dallas Cowboys running back Tony Dorsett has CTE [link]. Given that he retired when I was only 8-years old, I never got a chance to watch him play, but it made me wonder how long it will be before the players I grew up watching will start being diagnosed. Individuals I revered and so badly wanted to be when I played football in middle and high school. It made me think about getting older, and the price of getting older, which seems to be watching the titans of our youth topple like so many dominoes.
Now, to move away from my super-depressing thoughts and on to some family updates. Steph is doing very well and seems to have largely adjusted to her new school district, though I suggest not asking her about report cards. Our friends Hilary and Chris, back in Colorado, have a new baby girl (rumor is she still has that "new baby smell"). Currently, my book is in the hands of its first readers. I'll be collecting their feedback and doing a second revision and then I'll need to send it out to a new crop of readers and a few of those who already read it once for some comparative analysis. I also have a story entered in Gemini Magazine's Flash Fiction contest [link] and I'm hoping to hear something on that any day now.
I hope all of you are doing well. [Insert obligatory remark about updating this blog more often here]. Take care and enjoy yourselves.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Summer To Do List
- Finish school
- Pack up classroom
- Meet next year's students
- Write a book
- Entertain company
- Visit family
- Almost get stuck in Canada
- Write more book
- Take a class
- Find a place to live
- Take another class
- Continue writing book
- Plan new curriculum
- Pack up apartment
- Scare the cat
- Moving day
So...we're moving tomorrow. The majority of our big stuff is packed, and now we're running around trying to find space for items that don't pack nicely with others. I'm gulping down my last coffee before I tackle the last of our kitchen utensils. Phil is unplugging and packing our electronic possessions. Lucy is hiding under the bed. Tomorrow morning, we'll pack up our U-Haul -possibly earning some frequent hauler points- and head south.
Our new dwelling is a two-bedroom apartment on the second floor of an actual apartment building. We didn't realize how rare an actual apartment building was in Vermont until we went looking. Housing hunting was the most stressful part of our summer. There were not a lot of available options, and we received responses to maybe 50% of our queries. We saw some pretty interesting (sketchy) places and were relieved when we found our apartment. We'll be less than 5 miles from my new school (Twinfield Union School), maybe a mile and a half from the center of Plainfield, about 20 minutes from Montpelier and Barre, and 40ish minutes from Burlington. Our building is one of 5 in a quiet, wooded area behind Goddard College. We hear Goddard is the last great hippie school in Vermont, so we're pretty excited. And by we I mean I am excited.
Before all the stress of moving, we had a pretty busy summer. Jantrey came from Colorado for a week, and she and I had a lovely time checking out new areas of Vermont. We also went wine tasting in Canada. Right over the border, there is a wine road with fifteen different wineries. In two days, we got all but two. It was delicious. We also spent a week in Michigan with the family. Phil's sister was still in Arkansas, but we did see everyone else in our immediate family. (Question: Do your parents and siblings still count as your immediate family after you get married and start your own?) It was so nice to see everyone, and Phil got to enjoy a couple days of Schaap summer on Glen Lake.
Phil is writing every day we're not moving, and his story is amazing. He came out of the office the other day laughing his pants off about something he wrote the day before. He is currently pacing around the apartment reorganizing boxes, so I feel like I should go now.
Happy August!
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
What you should know about "4k Resolution"
4 weeks not smoking as of yesterday. Woo-hoo, extra hoo.
I wanted to take a few moments and talk to you about 4k Resolution for televisions and computer monitors. If it hasn't started already, a big push is going to be made to get you to buy these for massive amounts of money, and I thought it would be for the best if you understood exactly what they're going to try to sell you.
Chances are, if you've purchased a television within the last 7 years or so you have a 1080p HD television. This sounds intimidating, but it's not. First off, the HD or High-Definition title is applied to any screen resolution greater than 480. Second, 480, 720, 1080, and now 4k are all screen resolutions. A screen resolution is simply the pixel dimensions of your television screen, which in the case of 1080p, is 1920x1080. If you're familiar with pixels and screens, jump down to the next paragraph, if not, hang with me here a moment. It's useful to think of your television screen as a brick wall with each brick a pixel. In this instance, we would note that our brick wall is 1,920 bricks wide (x axis) by 1,080 bricks tall (y axis).
There are a few important things to note at this juncture: 1) All modern televisions, i.e., anything that doesn't use a cathode ray tube, that share a resolution have the same quantity of pixels regardless of how big the screen is. This is to say that if you have a 60-inch 1080p television, your TV has just as many pixels as our 32-inch 1080p television. 2) The defining number of a resolution has always been the vertical pixel count - this is now changing with 4k, which will use the horizontal pixel count, and it will also round up - 4k resolution is 3840x2160.
So, 1080p, or 1920x1080, is our current standard of High Definition. This is going to be replaced, eventually, with 4k, or 3840x2160. To get a better handle on this, it's good to multiply the dimensions to get a total pixel count. 1920 * 1080 = 2,073,600 total pixels. 3840 * 2160 = 8,294,400 total pixels. When you hear them claim on the commercials that you're going to get '4 times as much data' this is what they're talking about, going from 2 million to 8 million pixels. This is a big deal, especially for larger televisions. Why? Picture clarity, that's why.
To talk about picture clarity, we need to talk about pixel density, measured in Pixels Per Inch or PPI. The problem with screen resolutions for some time has been that they use the same quantity of pixels for that particular resolution regardless of size. My 32-inch TV has the same 2-million pixels that someone else's 60-inch TV has. When we talk about pixel density though, my 32-inch television has a 70 PPI, while the 60-inch model has a 37 PPI. If you've ever looked at a wall of televisions at a Best Buy or Wal-Mart and noted that the smaller models had a sharper picture, this is why. What the adoption of 4k is going to do is massively ramp up the PPI for all television sizes, though it will be most notable, based on what the human eye can detect, on larger televisions. To give an example, that 60-inch set with it's 37 PPI in 1080p resolution is going to jump up to 74 PPI with 4k resolution, which is to say that Steph and I will be able to go from a 32-inch set with 426.25 square inches of viewing area to a 60-inch set with 1,538.3 square inches of viewing area and actually have more PPI. That's amazing.
One last thing: don't buy one just yet. They're amazingly expensive and, as of this moment, nothing exists that will actually use it. It's coming, of course. The new Playstation 4 and Xbox 1, both due to be released later this year, are supposed to support it.
I promise to post something funny, or at least less technical, next time.
I wanted to take a few moments and talk to you about 4k Resolution for televisions and computer monitors. If it hasn't started already, a big push is going to be made to get you to buy these for massive amounts of money, and I thought it would be for the best if you understood exactly what they're going to try to sell you.
Chances are, if you've purchased a television within the last 7 years or so you have a 1080p HD television. This sounds intimidating, but it's not. First off, the HD or High-Definition title is applied to any screen resolution greater than 480. Second, 480, 720, 1080, and now 4k are all screen resolutions. A screen resolution is simply the pixel dimensions of your television screen, which in the case of 1080p, is 1920x1080. If you're familiar with pixels and screens, jump down to the next paragraph, if not, hang with me here a moment. It's useful to think of your television screen as a brick wall with each brick a pixel. In this instance, we would note that our brick wall is 1,920 bricks wide (x axis) by 1,080 bricks tall (y axis).
There are a few important things to note at this juncture: 1) All modern televisions, i.e., anything that doesn't use a cathode ray tube, that share a resolution have the same quantity of pixels regardless of how big the screen is. This is to say that if you have a 60-inch 1080p television, your TV has just as many pixels as our 32-inch 1080p television. 2) The defining number of a resolution has always been the vertical pixel count - this is now changing with 4k, which will use the horizontal pixel count, and it will also round up - 4k resolution is 3840x2160.
So, 1080p, or 1920x1080, is our current standard of High Definition. This is going to be replaced, eventually, with 4k, or 3840x2160. To get a better handle on this, it's good to multiply the dimensions to get a total pixel count. 1920 * 1080 = 2,073,600 total pixels. 3840 * 2160 = 8,294,400 total pixels. When you hear them claim on the commercials that you're going to get '4 times as much data' this is what they're talking about, going from 2 million to 8 million pixels. This is a big deal, especially for larger televisions. Why? Picture clarity, that's why.
To talk about picture clarity, we need to talk about pixel density, measured in Pixels Per Inch or PPI. The problem with screen resolutions for some time has been that they use the same quantity of pixels for that particular resolution regardless of size. My 32-inch TV has the same 2-million pixels that someone else's 60-inch TV has. When we talk about pixel density though, my 32-inch television has a 70 PPI, while the 60-inch model has a 37 PPI. If you've ever looked at a wall of televisions at a Best Buy or Wal-Mart and noted that the smaller models had a sharper picture, this is why. What the adoption of 4k is going to do is massively ramp up the PPI for all television sizes, though it will be most notable, based on what the human eye can detect, on larger televisions. To give an example, that 60-inch set with it's 37 PPI in 1080p resolution is going to jump up to 74 PPI with 4k resolution, which is to say that Steph and I will be able to go from a 32-inch set with 426.25 square inches of viewing area to a 60-inch set with 1,538.3 square inches of viewing area and actually have more PPI. That's amazing.
One last thing: don't buy one just yet. They're amazingly expensive and, as of this moment, nothing exists that will actually use it. It's coming, of course. The new Playstation 4 and Xbox 1, both due to be released later this year, are supposed to support it.
I promise to post something funny, or at least less technical, next time.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Searching for Connection
Hello everyone. Thank you all for joining me on "Phil blogs occasionally".
As of 1:30pm EDT today, it will be a full week since I've had a cigarette. I've still got a long way to go (the rest of my life, as it turns out) but it's a start.
To preface the rest of the post, you need to understand a little about how my mornings work now. I typically get up a little after 6am, feed the cat, have some cereal, and get Steph's coffee going (coffee and I no longer get along since I started taking meds for my ADHD - and by don't get along I mean they turn me into a 230 lb. hummingbird which scares the villagers quite a lot. On that note, I have lost about 20 lbs. yay!). With that all done, it's usually somewhere between 6:45 and 7:10, which means I have somewhere between 15 and 40 minutes to kill until Steph asks me to play fashion adviser. You may think I'm joking. You're probably saying that asking my opinion on fashion is like asking Taylor Swift what it takes to make a long-lasting relationship or asking Billy Ray Cyrus how to get that second hit song. I don't disagree with your views on that, but it's true, and for all that I've talked about it, it's not what we're really here to discuss. It's that 15 to 40 minutes.
During this time, this half hour average, I'm on the internet. I see none of you are surprised. I check my Facebook and Twitter accounts for personal messages, sure, but that doesn't take long. What I spend most of my time doing is reading any articles of interest off the first two sites, and then following that up with more neat stuff off Tumblr (which is just a great thing) and follow that up with some YouTube videos. Lately, between all these things, a large connection has formed - an overarching theme, and I would present them to you as I found them.
If you ever get a chance to listen to any of the oldschool youtubers out there, you'll tend to hear one name that crops up, from most, if not all, of these people. The guy who, in a very real way, paved the way for all the other successful acts. This guy is Ze Frank (Ze rhymes with 'hay'). Curious about who this was, I looked him up. Below is the video I watched.
It's pretty long, but this is 21 minutes well spent if you have the time. If you don't, it's about connecting. Connecting with people via the internet. What you and I are doing right now, if we're honest.
A few days after I watched this, Time posted their cover article which can be viewed, if you have a subscription, here. It's on the so-called millennial generation, and just like every generation that my generation has ever heard about, they're a bunch of narcissists. Unique to this bunch though: they're on the internet. Always. He offers one stat in the free version (I too lack a Time sub), people in their 20's have 3 times the rate of narcissistic personality disorder than those 65 and older. Really? We could've done this same study 40 years ago and gotten the same result. Folks in their 20's haven't learned much about the real world just yet. I remember, quite vividly, my great awakening. I was living in Kalamazoo, working at Target, my hours had just been cut, my sister had just moved out, and I had deposited my paycheck. Rent was due in a couple days, and I had a choice: pay it, or buy food. Nothing looked the same afterward. If you were wondering, I paid the rent.
The interesting thing though is all the talk about how millennials live on their smartphones, tablets, and laptops.
Next up is a video I saw yesterday. Tweeted by noted British comedian Stephen Fry (you may remember him as Booth's therapist from Bones) the following video is an excerpt from David Foster Wallace's 2005 commencement speech to Kenyon College set to a special made movie, and entitled "This is Water".
At the risk of appearing to over-sell something, you will not ever regret spending 9 minutes of your life watching this video. Considering that it has been viewed 4.2 million times in the last week, it would seem some folks agree with me on that.
So if you're keeping score at home, we listened to Ze Frank talk about connection, to Joel Stein talk about the internet connected millennial generation, and now to David Foster Wallace, the latter of whom died before any of the rest was created, and yet it is his message that simultaneously surpasses and binds together the first two.
So where we go from here? To my cat, of course. After watching this last video yesterday morning, I sat on the couch thinking about it for a moment when Lucy came over. As most cats, her in particular, like to do, she flopped down just out of easy reach, but clearly still expected to be petted. Having grown tired of this game many years (and cats) ago, I leaned forward, picked her up, and sat her on the couch next to me. She then crawled onto my lap, laid down, and purred away, seeming quite happy.
"Is this us?" I asked. "Are we metaphorical cats, laying down just out of easy reach, saying 'here I am' with each tweet and facebook post? And are we trying to establish a real connection by hoping that someone picks us up, and moves us to where we wanted to be all the while?"
I don't have an answer to any of that. As Hank and John Green (you may find them on YouTube as the Vlogbrothers) like to say, the truth resists simplicity.
As of 1:30pm EDT today, it will be a full week since I've had a cigarette. I've still got a long way to go (the rest of my life, as it turns out) but it's a start.
To preface the rest of the post, you need to understand a little about how my mornings work now. I typically get up a little after 6am, feed the cat, have some cereal, and get Steph's coffee going (coffee and I no longer get along since I started taking meds for my ADHD - and by don't get along I mean they turn me into a 230 lb. hummingbird which scares the villagers quite a lot. On that note, I have lost about 20 lbs. yay!). With that all done, it's usually somewhere between 6:45 and 7:10, which means I have somewhere between 15 and 40 minutes to kill until Steph asks me to play fashion adviser. You may think I'm joking. You're probably saying that asking my opinion on fashion is like asking Taylor Swift what it takes to make a long-lasting relationship or asking Billy Ray Cyrus how to get that second hit song. I don't disagree with your views on that, but it's true, and for all that I've talked about it, it's not what we're really here to discuss. It's that 15 to 40 minutes.
During this time, this half hour average, I'm on the internet. I see none of you are surprised. I check my Facebook and Twitter accounts for personal messages, sure, but that doesn't take long. What I spend most of my time doing is reading any articles of interest off the first two sites, and then following that up with more neat stuff off Tumblr (which is just a great thing) and follow that up with some YouTube videos. Lately, between all these things, a large connection has formed - an overarching theme, and I would present them to you as I found them.
If you ever get a chance to listen to any of the oldschool youtubers out there, you'll tend to hear one name that crops up, from most, if not all, of these people. The guy who, in a very real way, paved the way for all the other successful acts. This guy is Ze Frank (Ze rhymes with 'hay'). Curious about who this was, I looked him up. Below is the video I watched.
It's pretty long, but this is 21 minutes well spent if you have the time. If you don't, it's about connecting. Connecting with people via the internet. What you and I are doing right now, if we're honest.
A few days after I watched this, Time posted their cover article which can be viewed, if you have a subscription, here. It's on the so-called millennial generation, and just like every generation that my generation has ever heard about, they're a bunch of narcissists. Unique to this bunch though: they're on the internet. Always. He offers one stat in the free version (I too lack a Time sub), people in their 20's have 3 times the rate of narcissistic personality disorder than those 65 and older. Really? We could've done this same study 40 years ago and gotten the same result. Folks in their 20's haven't learned much about the real world just yet. I remember, quite vividly, my great awakening. I was living in Kalamazoo, working at Target, my hours had just been cut, my sister had just moved out, and I had deposited my paycheck. Rent was due in a couple days, and I had a choice: pay it, or buy food. Nothing looked the same afterward. If you were wondering, I paid the rent.
The interesting thing though is all the talk about how millennials live on their smartphones, tablets, and laptops.
Next up is a video I saw yesterday. Tweeted by noted British comedian Stephen Fry (you may remember him as Booth's therapist from Bones) the following video is an excerpt from David Foster Wallace's 2005 commencement speech to Kenyon College set to a special made movie, and entitled "This is Water".
At the risk of appearing to over-sell something, you will not ever regret spending 9 minutes of your life watching this video. Considering that it has been viewed 4.2 million times in the last week, it would seem some folks agree with me on that.
So if you're keeping score at home, we listened to Ze Frank talk about connection, to Joel Stein talk about the internet connected millennial generation, and now to David Foster Wallace, the latter of whom died before any of the rest was created, and yet it is his message that simultaneously surpasses and binds together the first two.
So where we go from here? To my cat, of course. After watching this last video yesterday morning, I sat on the couch thinking about it for a moment when Lucy came over. As most cats, her in particular, like to do, she flopped down just out of easy reach, but clearly still expected to be petted. Having grown tired of this game many years (and cats) ago, I leaned forward, picked her up, and sat her on the couch next to me. She then crawled onto my lap, laid down, and purred away, seeming quite happy.
"Is this us?" I asked. "Are we metaphorical cats, laying down just out of easy reach, saying 'here I am' with each tweet and facebook post? And are we trying to establish a real connection by hoping that someone picks us up, and moves us to where we wanted to be all the while?"
I don't have an answer to any of that. As Hank and John Green (you may find them on YouTube as the Vlogbrothers) like to say, the truth resists simplicity.
Monday, April 8, 2013
Updates, Windows 8, and ADHD
So... *clicks on Staind song* it's been a while. First, updates: Steph has an interview next week. Yay! Conferences this week. Boo. And the week after next, it's spring break, yay, which will, with any luck, feature additional interviews. Also, I'm writing a new book, not right now though, because right now I'm writing this, unless you're looking at this after I post it, because then I might be working on my new book, or going to the bathroom.
I'm running Windows 8. It's not bad. If I thought any of you were actually interested in this, I'd write more, but I know better. I just thought I'd mention it, because I thought there might be a chance some of you might be buying a computer in the near future and I didn't want you to worry about it running 8.
Now it's ADHD story fun time! So, back in late November or early December, a whole rash of NFL players got suspended or in some form of trouble for taking Adderall. Not having any idea what this was, I looked it up, and saw the symptom list for ADHD Predominantly Inattentive type, which read like something of a biography to me. So I talked with Steph about it, and wouldn't you know, she told me that I'm not normal. I made some other calls to my medically inclined family members and heard similar things, so mid-December I made a call and set up an appointment with the doctor. Only I didn't, because out in Vermont you can't set something like that up without transferring every medical record you've ever had and filling out all the new patient paperwork. So I called and got my paperwork from an office over in Newport, as Steph doesn't like the dude here in town (he told her when she went in to get her thyroid meds renewed that she really should be pregnant - girl's hair was UP). With Steph's help, I got all the paperwork filled out, back in the mail, and we came home for Christmas.
When we got back, what should I see in the mailbox but the envelope I'd sent out the previous week marked as "insufficient postage". Yippee! So, I popped it in a new envelope, put 2 stamps on it this time, and stuck it back in the mailbox. 2 weeks later, not having heard anything, I got in touch with the guy here in town. After all, he couldn't tell me I should be pregnant, though it did occur to me he might tell me I looked like I was, but I was willing to deal with that, as I'd been looking to see a doc for a month at this point. So I went over there, filled out all the paperwork again, and went back to waiting. A week later, on the same day, both doctor's offices called, and a very confused medical records clerk over in Colorado did too. Since the office here in town could see me first, I set up the appointment with them, and now, the last week of January, I went over. I told him what was going on and he told me, "I don't doubt that you have this, but it's not something I write scripts for, but I can refer you to a psychiatrist". Okay, that's kosher, so when we got done, after several anecdotes about how I would've done well as a crewmate on a 16th century Spanish Galleon, among other things that bear little relevance on today's world, I was referred to the mental health lady for an appointment that Friday.
Steph went to that first appointment with me, as I thought it would be good to have an objective observer there to answer questions. As it turns out, this was a good thing. Example: Lady - do you fidget? Me - Nope. Steph - (laughing) yes honey, you do (points at my hands which are playing with my hood strings, then pats my shoulder). We finish filling out all the diagnostic tests and she tells me that it would appear I have ADHD. Well, good, right? I mean, I've known (as well as anyone diagnosing themselves via the internet can) for 6 weeks, but hey, they've caught up. We set up an appointment for the following week to discuss lifestyle changes and meds. Only, the lady gets sick and cancels, so it gets bumped back a week. The next week there's a lot of snow falling out of the sky, so it gets pushed back another week, so it's now mid-February and I have my second appointment. The lady tells me she's going to recommend to the doctor that he prescribe a certain kind of med, and this stuff should work really well, because I seem to have some depression symptoms going on as well. What? Why aren't you prescribing this? I thought I was being referred to a psychiatrist? I look at the certifications as I leave the office that day, and see that I have, in fact, not been seeing a psychiatrist, but a clinical social worker. I look up the med she's going to recommend when I get home and see that it has nothing to do with treating depression, and is generally recommended for folks who suffer side-affects from more traditional ADHD treatments.
So, to summarize, I saw a psychiatrist who was actually a social worker who was going to recommend meds based on a condition I didn't believe I had that the meds didn't actually treat to a doctor who didn't write scripts for this kind of thing. If you were wondering if this is typical of my life, I can only answer yes, yes it is. The rest of the story is a bit boring, so I'll keep it quick. I called my sister, a board certified behavior analyst, and asked for suggestions on how to proceed. She suggested I get in touch with the county mental health center. I did, they couldn't see me for 6 weeks, and they didn't diagnose, but did treat, ADHD. They referred me to a place to get a diagnosis, since they wouldn't take the one I already had. This place had a 6 month waiting list. So I pulled up a list of all the psychiatrists within 100 miles, made a crap-load of calls, got in to see someone, and have, for the last 5 weeks, been on meds. I know the pervasive feelings about ADHD and its treatments, but I have to tell you, this has been a revelation to me. The first day I was on the medication, a person called while I was listening to music, and I didn't have to turn the music off in order to focus on the conversation. When the GPS gives directions in the car, I don't have to turn the radio off. Multiple people can be talking in a room at once, and I can focus on what's being said to me instead of needing it repeated one or more times. I can sit all the way through a movie. It's been incredible.
I hope all of you are well, staying out of trouble, and that you enjoyed reading this. Steph and I will be back in Michigan around the 4th of July. Until then, keep it rockin' for the kids.
I'm running Windows 8. It's not bad. If I thought any of you were actually interested in this, I'd write more, but I know better. I just thought I'd mention it, because I thought there might be a chance some of you might be buying a computer in the near future and I didn't want you to worry about it running 8.
Now it's ADHD story fun time! So, back in late November or early December, a whole rash of NFL players got suspended or in some form of trouble for taking Adderall. Not having any idea what this was, I looked it up, and saw the symptom list for ADHD Predominantly Inattentive type, which read like something of a biography to me. So I talked with Steph about it, and wouldn't you know, she told me that I'm not normal. I made some other calls to my medically inclined family members and heard similar things, so mid-December I made a call and set up an appointment with the doctor. Only I didn't, because out in Vermont you can't set something like that up without transferring every medical record you've ever had and filling out all the new patient paperwork. So I called and got my paperwork from an office over in Newport, as Steph doesn't like the dude here in town (he told her when she went in to get her thyroid meds renewed that she really should be pregnant - girl's hair was UP). With Steph's help, I got all the paperwork filled out, back in the mail, and we came home for Christmas.
When we got back, what should I see in the mailbox but the envelope I'd sent out the previous week marked as "insufficient postage". Yippee! So, I popped it in a new envelope, put 2 stamps on it this time, and stuck it back in the mailbox. 2 weeks later, not having heard anything, I got in touch with the guy here in town. After all, he couldn't tell me I should be pregnant, though it did occur to me he might tell me I looked like I was, but I was willing to deal with that, as I'd been looking to see a doc for a month at this point. So I went over there, filled out all the paperwork again, and went back to waiting. A week later, on the same day, both doctor's offices called, and a very confused medical records clerk over in Colorado did too. Since the office here in town could see me first, I set up the appointment with them, and now, the last week of January, I went over. I told him what was going on and he told me, "I don't doubt that you have this, but it's not something I write scripts for, but I can refer you to a psychiatrist". Okay, that's kosher, so when we got done, after several anecdotes about how I would've done well as a crewmate on a 16th century Spanish Galleon, among other things that bear little relevance on today's world, I was referred to the mental health lady for an appointment that Friday.
Steph went to that first appointment with me, as I thought it would be good to have an objective observer there to answer questions. As it turns out, this was a good thing. Example: Lady - do you fidget? Me - Nope. Steph - (laughing) yes honey, you do (points at my hands which are playing with my hood strings, then pats my shoulder). We finish filling out all the diagnostic tests and she tells me that it would appear I have ADHD. Well, good, right? I mean, I've known (as well as anyone diagnosing themselves via the internet can) for 6 weeks, but hey, they've caught up. We set up an appointment for the following week to discuss lifestyle changes and meds. Only, the lady gets sick and cancels, so it gets bumped back a week. The next week there's a lot of snow falling out of the sky, so it gets pushed back another week, so it's now mid-February and I have my second appointment. The lady tells me she's going to recommend to the doctor that he prescribe a certain kind of med, and this stuff should work really well, because I seem to have some depression symptoms going on as well. What? Why aren't you prescribing this? I thought I was being referred to a psychiatrist? I look at the certifications as I leave the office that day, and see that I have, in fact, not been seeing a psychiatrist, but a clinical social worker. I look up the med she's going to recommend when I get home and see that it has nothing to do with treating depression, and is generally recommended for folks who suffer side-affects from more traditional ADHD treatments.
So, to summarize, I saw a psychiatrist who was actually a social worker who was going to recommend meds based on a condition I didn't believe I had that the meds didn't actually treat to a doctor who didn't write scripts for this kind of thing. If you were wondering if this is typical of my life, I can only answer yes, yes it is. The rest of the story is a bit boring, so I'll keep it quick. I called my sister, a board certified behavior analyst, and asked for suggestions on how to proceed. She suggested I get in touch with the county mental health center. I did, they couldn't see me for 6 weeks, and they didn't diagnose, but did treat, ADHD. They referred me to a place to get a diagnosis, since they wouldn't take the one I already had. This place had a 6 month waiting list. So I pulled up a list of all the psychiatrists within 100 miles, made a crap-load of calls, got in to see someone, and have, for the last 5 weeks, been on meds. I know the pervasive feelings about ADHD and its treatments, but I have to tell you, this has been a revelation to me. The first day I was on the medication, a person called while I was listening to music, and I didn't have to turn the music off in order to focus on the conversation. When the GPS gives directions in the car, I don't have to turn the radio off. Multiple people can be talking in a room at once, and I can focus on what's being said to me instead of needing it repeated one or more times. I can sit all the way through a movie. It's been incredible.
I hope all of you are well, staying out of trouble, and that you enjoyed reading this. Steph and I will be back in Michigan around the 4th of July. Until then, keep it rockin' for the kids.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Oh, hi!
Life has been a bit hectic lately. I am currently filling out applications for schools surrounding Burlington while both Phil and I go crazy at the reality that we have to stay here at least three more months. My current school is not working out, and there are no opportunities for entertainment or career development in this area. In full disclosure, I am applying to some schools in west Michigan as well, specifically charter schools or public schools that have a plan for student success...or a really nice pool. I'm also looking at some different positions within the world of education. There are a couple literacy or writing coordinator positions that are intriguing and a position as curriculum director at a Boys and Girls Club in Burlington. This year has kick my butt and confidence in the classroom, so it may be nice to try something new. Our current catch phrases are "I don't know" and "We'll see." Both drive us nuts, but I don't know. We'll see.
Monday, February 11, 2013
We are still alive
Hi! I should be writing lessons plans for tomorrow and trying to get to bed on time, but...I don't want to. I'm currently having a difficult time finding the focus and motivation to do school work.
Phil is still studying for his computer certification, but his brain seems to be jumping ahead to his next big project. And it is quite huge. He wants to build collections of short stories and publish them in an electronic magazine. Our weekend coffee conversations have been centered around format, submission requirements, and the realization that we should know more lawyers. We're both pretty excited about seeing where this idea takes us.
School is okay, depending on the day. This morning I was ready to cry because my kids couldn't fold a strip of paper into anything smaller than fourths, we had twenty minutes of silent, focused writing this afternoon, and about an hour ago, I was grading papers and one of my lovelies wrote Msr. Poopstain for the teacher name. (Obviously, we need to review spelling of Mrs.) People tell me the kids are improving, but oh, my goodness, some days are ridiculous.
We are looking at relocating within the state. Richford is not a good fit for us, neither the town nor the school. Hopefully we'll be living in a suburb of Burlington with an excellent school system, job opportunities for Phil, and he wants to live near a comic book store. We'll see!
Phil is still studying for his computer certification, but his brain seems to be jumping ahead to his next big project. And it is quite huge. He wants to build collections of short stories and publish them in an electronic magazine. Our weekend coffee conversations have been centered around format, submission requirements, and the realization that we should know more lawyers. We're both pretty excited about seeing where this idea takes us.
School is okay, depending on the day. This morning I was ready to cry because my kids couldn't fold a strip of paper into anything smaller than fourths, we had twenty minutes of silent, focused writing this afternoon, and about an hour ago, I was grading papers and one of my lovelies wrote Msr. Poopstain for the teacher name. (Obviously, we need to review spelling of Mrs.) People tell me the kids are improving, but oh, my goodness, some days are ridiculous.
We are looking at relocating within the state. Richford is not a good fit for us, neither the town nor the school. Hopefully we'll be living in a suburb of Burlington with an excellent school system, job opportunities for Phil, and he wants to live near a comic book store. We'll see!
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Life Update
Holiday Recap
Thanksgiving: Our original Thanksgiving plans were to cook up a small turkey breast, make some potatoes and pie for two, and just have a nice, mellow meal. After our supplies were purchased, we were invited to a large family gathering on Sunday by some of my colleagues. On Thanksgiving morning, our landlords invited us down for dinner with their family. Phil especially has been adopted by the oldest son and his family, so we whipped up some dessert and trekked downstairs for dinner. We had our own dinner on Friday, leftovers on Saturday, and I spent Sunday puking.
Christmas: Because we missed driving across the country, we drove to Michigan for Christmas. We planned to leave on December 22 which turned out to be the day of blizzarding along our entire route home. The 23rd was much more conducive to travel, so off we went. We were able to see all of our parents, four out of five grandparents, two out of four sisters, and the latest addition to our collection of nieces and nephews. (Collection of course being three.) We celebrated Christmas five times over our six day visit, and at the Ainslie present exchange, I was informed that opening presents one person at a time was a Dutch tradition which is not always appreciated by others. I waited anyway.
New Years: We were still recovering from our travels and were in bed before midnight.
School Shift
I teach fourth grade now. On the last day of school before break, my principal informed me there would be an opening for a grade four teacher in January and asked if I would be interested. I had mentioned my interest in moving down earlier in the year and had had it up to here with my sixth graders, so I nervously agreed. The previous teacher had been teaching four 45 years and had a rough first semester with this class of 21. She decided the trouble was not worth her time and retired effective immediately. Knowing the history of this class made me a little wary, but I was informed that yes, there were some naughty students but they were not mean like some of my other students.
I went into school the Monday before we got back to organize some fourth grade materials before students came on Wednesday. Oh my goodness. All the student desks had been swapped (I was staying in my own classroom- the students were switching) and piles and piles of dusty teacher files had been deposited all over my room. Freaking out. I am very impressed with how many piles I sorted through in two days. I filled two large garbage bins with outdated materials, found science books from the 1970s, and rearranged all my student desks.
Both classes of students (4th and my 5/6 class) received letters over break informing them of the teacher switch. The fourth grade parents were nervous because they had no idea who I am. My 5/6 parents were furious their children were losing me as a teacher. Yay! I've talked with my old students, and most of them also were upset about not having me as a teacher. Double-yay! (The students who were not sad were the individuals who made me hate school. I will not miss them or their giant hormonal mood swings.)
In three days of fourth grade, we have not accomplished much academic work, but our classroom community is growing. Apparently, their first semester was horrible and included a lot of yelling and worksheets, so I am rocking their world right now. We've done Morning Meetings, group activities, SMART board lessons, an art project, and listened to rock and roll music about math. Several staff members have complimented me on the class atmosphere and the positive feedback they've received from my new students. I feel like I can be the teacher I'm supposed to be in my new position which makes me (and by extension Phil) very happy. Yesterday a staff member mentioned how nice it was to see me smile again.
My kids and I still have a long way to go, and I'm dragging parents along too. I'm going to end here so I can write a parent newsletter about labeling snowpants (we've already had several mix-ups) and not sending kids to school with toys. I've taken away Lego guys from half my boys and random hair extensions from some of my girls. Bizarre.
PS
New England winters are very cold and involve a ton of snow. They are very pretty though. Pictures to come later.
Thanksgiving: Our original Thanksgiving plans were to cook up a small turkey breast, make some potatoes and pie for two, and just have a nice, mellow meal. After our supplies were purchased, we were invited to a large family gathering on Sunday by some of my colleagues. On Thanksgiving morning, our landlords invited us down for dinner with their family. Phil especially has been adopted by the oldest son and his family, so we whipped up some dessert and trekked downstairs for dinner. We had our own dinner on Friday, leftovers on Saturday, and I spent Sunday puking.
Christmas: Because we missed driving across the country, we drove to Michigan for Christmas. We planned to leave on December 22 which turned out to be the day of blizzarding along our entire route home. The 23rd was much more conducive to travel, so off we went. We were able to see all of our parents, four out of five grandparents, two out of four sisters, and the latest addition to our collection of nieces and nephews. (Collection of course being three.) We celebrated Christmas five times over our six day visit, and at the Ainslie present exchange, I was informed that opening presents one person at a time was a Dutch tradition which is not always appreciated by others. I waited anyway.
New Years: We were still recovering from our travels and were in bed before midnight.
School Shift
I teach fourth grade now. On the last day of school before break, my principal informed me there would be an opening for a grade four teacher in January and asked if I would be interested. I had mentioned my interest in moving down earlier in the year and had had it up to here with my sixth graders, so I nervously agreed. The previous teacher had been teaching four 45 years and had a rough first semester with this class of 21. She decided the trouble was not worth her time and retired effective immediately. Knowing the history of this class made me a little wary, but I was informed that yes, there were some naughty students but they were not mean like some of my other students.
I went into school the Monday before we got back to organize some fourth grade materials before students came on Wednesday. Oh my goodness. All the student desks had been swapped (I was staying in my own classroom- the students were switching) and piles and piles of dusty teacher files had been deposited all over my room. Freaking out. I am very impressed with how many piles I sorted through in two days. I filled two large garbage bins with outdated materials, found science books from the 1970s, and rearranged all my student desks.
Both classes of students (4th and my 5/6 class) received letters over break informing them of the teacher switch. The fourth grade parents were nervous because they had no idea who I am. My 5/6 parents were furious their children were losing me as a teacher. Yay! I've talked with my old students, and most of them also were upset about not having me as a teacher. Double-yay! (The students who were not sad were the individuals who made me hate school. I will not miss them or their giant hormonal mood swings.)
In three days of fourth grade, we have not accomplished much academic work, but our classroom community is growing. Apparently, their first semester was horrible and included a lot of yelling and worksheets, so I am rocking their world right now. We've done Morning Meetings, group activities, SMART board lessons, an art project, and listened to rock and roll music about math. Several staff members have complimented me on the class atmosphere and the positive feedback they've received from my new students. I feel like I can be the teacher I'm supposed to be in my new position which makes me (and by extension Phil) very happy. Yesterday a staff member mentioned how nice it was to see me smile again.
My kids and I still have a long way to go, and I'm dragging parents along too. I'm going to end here so I can write a parent newsletter about labeling snowpants (we've already had several mix-ups) and not sending kids to school with toys. I've taken away Lego guys from half my boys and random hair extensions from some of my girls. Bizarre.
PS
New England winters are very cold and involve a ton of snow. They are very pretty though. Pictures to come later.
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