It's only Wednesday. The last three days have felt aeonic. Seriously. It's been so slow that I've watched an entire evolution happen. All of a sudden people have grown gills that operate as pollution regulators, and they no longer walk but glide.. or something.
I'm tired.
The first week of school does that to teachers. It doesn't help that my classes are mammoth (as in 32-35 kids per English IV class, except for my Literary Magazine class that kids are dropping in what feels like an effort to actually make more work for the rest of us. I started with 10 kids (a cozy sized staff) and am down to 6. 6 kids to fundraise three thousand dollars; 6 kids to campaign for submissions, judge them, and edit them for publication; 6 kids to design and create a publication worthy of selling. 6 kids to do all of that and more. It's a tall order.)
On top of the extra work loads, today I had students comparing walking through perpetual minefields and explosions to get to school (like Sunshine in Mosul) with being upset because taking today's notes made their hands cramp.
"It's similar. I mean, both are inconveniences. Besides, a bomb could fall on us at any second, so I can totally relate," one said. "This sucks."
"What?" I gasped. "Are you serious? You can't compare the two or possibly understand what it is like to live in a war torn country!"
"Yes I can," he said. "I mean, you never know what could happen, so it's totally the same. You could be walking down the street and get blown up. Besides, it's my opinion and I'm entitled to it."
"Sure, you're entitled to your opinion," I said, "but you're absolutely wrong, and how disrespectful to those who actually have to live through the falling bombs!"
He held his hand up to stop me from talking and then waved it around and said, "Whatever. I'm right and there's nothing you can do to change my mind."
This is the second full day of school.
Frighteningly, this year is already head and shoulders above last year. Despite my grumpiness tonight (sick baby in tow), I have some wonderful kids, too. I'll try to focus on them.. after my pity party.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Saturday, August 22, 2009
To my lovely Muslim brothers and sisters,
Ramadan Mubarak!!
May this be a time of peace and blessings for you and yours!
May this be a time of peace and blessings for you and yours!
Friday, August 21, 2009
Redefining Education
I wrote the following for a group called Project 2012, a discussion forum of folks who advocate true democracy (and who call for universal human rights) in community form. I'm not sure about how it will be received, or even if it will be, so I'm posting it here. Please pet me in case they don't.. :) Enjoy:
The classroom, like a church, is a sacred place where the teacher, like the minister, has an inviolate commission, not only to be a guide, but to serve. He cannot be a party to the capitalist's idea of prosperity, one that does not equate to abundance. Instead, he has to understand that his investment is one of respect - that the only way to create communitas is to engage in a true learning, a democratic society where all opinions are weighed, where everyone, including the teacher, learns, thus producing profit for all.
Thanks to this list, I allowed myself to think about what ideal education looks like stripped of the confines and/or trappings of government interference: assessments, budgets, rules, and dogma. I looked at Gandhi who spoke in terms of "the village." He spoke about education in relational terms - that the educator is also the student. He believed in educating the whole person and was a proponent of manual labor (and against machinery), insisting that it was faulty to consider that type of work lesser than any other type. I looked at the ideas of the Brazilian philosopher, Paulo Freire, who also promoted education as a relationship - more democratic in the give and take. There are a million philosophies to consider Hegel, Bloom, Rousseau, Marx... Too many.
I decided, instead, to pose the ideal as a question to my colleagues, fellow teachers who have more years of combined experience than they'd like for me to share. I asked them, "What does genuine education look like? Is it possible?"
The thing that all of the responses had in common (though different approaches were offered) was that "kids learn to think." Too often (and to the detriment of society) have we created automatons - robots who can produce the correct answer, but who can't explain how they've arrived there. We have kids who can operate technology, but who don't understand how the technology works. Somehow that's a respect issue.
In the US the modern school system was created to produce factory workers. From there, it has itself become a factory of capitalist production where minimal investment is expected to create a maximum return. Unfortunately, this system is backfiring in a huge way, to the detriment of society.
We have to go back to a place where education is about the exchange, about thinking and experimentation -trial and error and consideration -where getting the wrong answer is ok as long as you learn from the attempt.
I don't know what that kind of school truly looks like, other than it must be divorced of standardized everything. But education is expensive, especially in the investments of time, patience, and money. It also requires a ridiculous amount of trust. I do know that there are many teachers out there who understand this and who attempt to participate in the ideal despite the interference of the state. That's hopeful at least.
The classroom, like a church, is a sacred place where the teacher, like the minister, has an inviolate commission, not only to be a guide, but to serve. He cannot be a party to the capitalist's idea of prosperity, one that does not equate to abundance. Instead, he has to understand that his investment is one of respect - that the only way to create communitas is to engage in a true learning, a democratic society where all opinions are weighed, where everyone, including the teacher, learns, thus producing profit for all.
Thanks to this list, I allowed myself to think about what ideal education looks like stripped of the confines and/or trappings of government interference: assessments, budgets, rules, and dogma. I looked at Gandhi who spoke in terms of "the village." He spoke about education in relational terms - that the educator is also the student. He believed in educating the whole person and was a proponent of manual labor (and against machinery), insisting that it was faulty to consider that type of work lesser than any other type. I looked at the ideas of the Brazilian philosopher, Paulo Freire, who also promoted education as a relationship - more democratic in the give and take. There are a million philosophies to consider Hegel, Bloom, Rousseau, Marx... Too many.
I decided, instead, to pose the ideal as a question to my colleagues, fellow teachers who have more years of combined experience than they'd like for me to share. I asked them, "What does genuine education look like? Is it possible?"
The thing that all of the responses had in common (though different approaches were offered) was that "kids learn to think." Too often (and to the detriment of society) have we created automatons - robots who can produce the correct answer, but who can't explain how they've arrived there. We have kids who can operate technology, but who don't understand how the technology works. Somehow that's a respect issue.
In the US the modern school system was created to produce factory workers. From there, it has itself become a factory of capitalist production where minimal investment is expected to create a maximum return. Unfortunately, this system is backfiring in a huge way, to the detriment of society.
We have to go back to a place where education is about the exchange, about thinking and experimentation -trial and error and consideration -where getting the wrong answer is ok as long as you learn from the attempt.
I don't know what that kind of school truly looks like, other than it must be divorced of standardized everything. But education is expensive, especially in the investments of time, patience, and money. It also requires a ridiculous amount of trust. I do know that there are many teachers out there who understand this and who attempt to participate in the ideal despite the interference of the state. That's hopeful at least.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Overheard: Teacher Staff Development
A principal, on staffing:
"The On Campus Suspension teacher will not be returning this year. He moved to Oklahoma and opened a night club."
A principal, on dress code:
"Remember to keep in mind that thongs are dangerous."
The school nurse's sage advice:
"If it's wet and not yours, don't touch it."
(And the school year has only begun, darlings!)
"The On Campus Suspension teacher will not be returning this year. He moved to Oklahoma and opened a night club."
A principal, on dress code:
"Remember to keep in mind that thongs are dangerous."
The school nurse's sage advice:
"If it's wet and not yours, don't touch it."
(And the school year has only begun, darlings!)
Monday, August 10, 2009
Tag is Weird, Philosophically
I got tagged by the very lovely Sandy. Sadly, everyone who has ever played tag with me knows that if I'm ever tagged, the game is pretty much over. I stink at tag. I never tag anyone else. By definition, I'm "it". I will spend eternity being "it" which isn't really a compliment, is it. I mean people run away from being "it". That's the game. Funny how opposite things are in the real world.
Anyway, I'm not sure why I'm bad at tag; if it's because I don't want to actually decide who to tag next for fear that he/she might hate me later, or if it's because me running is more like watching any dance move by Martin Short - awkward, and too much like the pee pee dance under a very tiny sombrero.
Anyway, I got tagged which means you guys get to endure six random things about me:
1. John Lennon and I share a birthday.
2. I worked security at the Atlanta Olympics. I wore kelly green pants, a starched white shirt, and a pith helmet. My job was to “wand” the folks who failed the initial security metal detector test. I had to actually say to the person… er ..failure? customer? field hockey venue attendee? Random man in line whose penis stud would soon set off the alarm, embarrassing both him and me, but more me because I was young and far less snarky at the time? (sigh) Anyway, as I was saying, correct procedure according to the Olympic committee per the instructions on my official Olympic volunteer security video was to say to that person before the wanding commenced, and I quote:
“Excuse me sir. May I wand you?”
Pith helmet and security wand aside, I felt pretty bad ass since I had a birds’ nest of army snipers at my beck and call. All I had to do was point and nod, then step aside.
3. I attended the 50th anniversary of the alien landing event in Roswell. This event happened while I was in college, aka the years of stupidity spent in academia. Several of my friends stuffed ourselves into a minivan and drove from Lubbock , TX to Roswell, NM, a three hour, spur of the moment trip down a highway that’s best and only good quality is that it is a straight shot. We arrived at the International UFO Museum and Research Center , and found ourselves in the midst of a serious convention. Among the tourists were ..uh.. others who were listening to the walls near displayed “artifact’s” and taking notes. There were some that were promoting their conspiracy agendas via handouts and shouting, and of course there were panel discussions of those who had been abducted and, I assume, probed. All in all it was a fascinating experience. We bought our alien fridge magnets and headed back.
4. I was recently assaulted by a two man conga line. Yet another karmic consequence of irrationally hating Gloria Estefan.
5. “Janet Reno’s Dance Party” still freaking cracks me up, but it still comes in second to “More Cowbell!” Though we have to give Reno props for actually showing up for the awkward last sketch, the weirdness quotient is always compounded where Christopher Walken’s face and Will Farrell’s belly are involved. Add in enthusiastic cowbell thwacking, and it’s TKO – “More Cowbell” wins. Hands down.
6. Things that everyone else can do but me include:
* Hula-hoop. Never could. It gives me cramps.
* Float on my back in a pool. I sink right to the bottom.
* Be hypnotized. I'm too controlling.
* Write a G in cursive. Dude! I know!
* Dribble a basketball without looking at it.
* Stand up straight.
* PLAY TAG.
And now, in a free-for-all tag attempt (so that no one is excluded), imagine me (like Martin Short dancing), running behind you, yelling "TUWANDAAAAA!"
Tag. You're it.
Anyway, I'm not sure why I'm bad at tag; if it's because I don't want to actually decide who to tag next for fear that he/she might hate me later, or if it's because me running is more like watching any dance move by Martin Short - awkward, and too much like the pee pee dance under a very tiny sombrero.
Anyway, I got tagged which means you guys get to endure six random things about me:
1. John Lennon and I share a birthday.
2. I worked security at the Atlanta Olympics. I wore kelly green pants, a starched white shirt, and a pith helmet. My job was to “wand” the folks who failed the initial security metal detector test. I had to actually say to the person… er ..failure? customer? field hockey venue attendee? Random man in line whose penis stud would soon set off the alarm, embarrassing both him and me, but more me because I was young and far less snarky at the time? (sigh) Anyway, as I was saying, correct procedure according to the Olympic committee per the instructions on my official Olympic volunteer security video was to say to that person before the wanding commenced, and I quote:
“Excuse me sir. May I wand you?”
Pith helmet and security wand aside, I felt pretty bad ass since I had a birds’ nest of army snipers at my beck and call. All I had to do was point and nod, then step aside.
3. I attended the 50th anniversary of the alien landing event in Roswell. This event happened while I was in college, aka the years of stupidity spent in academia. Several of my friends stuffed ourselves into a minivan and drove from Lubbock , TX to Roswell, NM, a three hour, spur of the moment trip down a highway that’s best and only good quality is that it is a straight shot. We arrived at the International UFO Museum and Research Center , and found ourselves in the midst of a serious convention. Among the tourists were ..uh.. others who were listening to the walls near displayed “artifact’s” and taking notes. There were some that were promoting their conspiracy agendas via handouts and shouting, and of course there were panel discussions of those who had been abducted and, I assume, probed. All in all it was a fascinating experience. We bought our alien fridge magnets and headed back.
4. I was recently assaulted by a two man conga line. Yet another karmic consequence of irrationally hating Gloria Estefan.
5. “Janet Reno’s Dance Party” still freaking cracks me up, but it still comes in second to “More Cowbell!” Though we have to give Reno props for actually showing up for the awkward last sketch, the weirdness quotient is always compounded where Christopher Walken’s face and Will Farrell’s belly are involved. Add in enthusiastic cowbell thwacking, and it’s TKO – “More Cowbell” wins. Hands down.
6. Things that everyone else can do but me include:
* Hula-hoop. Never could. It gives me cramps.
* Float on my back in a pool. I sink right to the bottom.
* Be hypnotized. I'm too controlling.
* Write a G in cursive. Dude! I know!
* Dribble a basketball without looking at it.
* Stand up straight.
* PLAY TAG.
And now, in a free-for-all tag attempt (so that no one is excluded), imagine me (like Martin Short dancing), running behind you, yelling "TUWANDAAAAA!"
Tag. You're it.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
People in Common - Democracy in Action
The following gives voice to a lovely message and movement going on in London. Please enjoy this from my friend, Mark:
I think I'll go for a picnic next week end..
I think I'll go for a picnic next week end..
Friday, August 7, 2009
Overheard: Man Crush
Sitting in a group of folks, desperately trying not to talk about work (and having already exhausted topics such as "What's your porn star name?" and "What's the weirdest thing you've ever done, the PG version?"):
Her, to the men in the group: SO. Who is your man cru..?"
(Before she could finish the question)
Man in the group, the same one whose porn star name is Richard Concord: ANTHONY BOURDAIN! ANTHONY BOURDAIN!!!
Her: "..ush?"
Others in the group: Wow. That was a fairly enthusiastic and odd response..
Dick Concord: Yeah. This has happened to me before. I hear the word "crush" and I'm all,"ANTHONY BOURDAIN!!!" and they're all "No. I wanted crushed ice," and I'm all, "Oh. Ok. That's cool."
Her, to the men in the group: SO. Who is your man cru..?"
(Before she could finish the question)
Man in the group, the same one whose porn star name is Richard Concord: ANTHONY BOURDAIN! ANTHONY BOURDAIN!!!
Her: "..ush?"
Others in the group: Wow. That was a fairly enthusiastic and odd response..
Dick Concord: Yeah. This has happened to me before. I hear the word "crush" and I'm all,"ANTHONY BOURDAIN!!!" and they're all "No. I wanted crushed ice," and I'm all, "Oh. Ok. That's cool."
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Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Enduring One Aeon Creates Grumpy-gilled Humanoid
It's only Wednesday. The last three days have felt aeonic. Seriously. It's been so slow that I've watched an entire evolution happen. All of a sudden people have grown gills that operate as pollution regulators, and they no longer walk but glide.. or something.
I'm tired.
The first week of school does that to teachers. It doesn't help that my classes are mammoth (as in 32-35 kids per English IV class, except for my Literary Magazine class that kids are dropping in what feels like an effort to actually make more work for the rest of us. I started with 10 kids (a cozy sized staff) and am down to 6. 6 kids to fundraise three thousand dollars; 6 kids to campaign for submissions, judge them, and edit them for publication; 6 kids to design and create a publication worthy of selling. 6 kids to do all of that and more. It's a tall order.)
On top of the extra work loads, today I had students comparing walking through perpetual minefields and explosions to get to school (like Sunshine in Mosul) with being upset because taking today's notes made their hands cramp.
"It's similar. I mean, both are inconveniences. Besides, a bomb could fall on us at any second, so I can totally relate," one said. "This sucks."
"What?" I gasped. "Are you serious? You can't compare the two or possibly understand what it is like to live in a war torn country!"
"Yes I can," he said. "I mean, you never know what could happen, so it's totally the same. You could be walking down the street and get blown up. Besides, it's my opinion and I'm entitled to it."
"Sure, you're entitled to your opinion," I said, "but you're absolutely wrong, and how disrespectful to those who actually have to live through the falling bombs!"
He held his hand up to stop me from talking and then waved it around and said, "Whatever. I'm right and there's nothing you can do to change my mind."
This is the second full day of school.
Frighteningly, this year is already head and shoulders above last year. Despite my grumpiness tonight (sick baby in tow), I have some wonderful kids, too. I'll try to focus on them.. after my pity party.
I'm tired.
The first week of school does that to teachers. It doesn't help that my classes are mammoth (as in 32-35 kids per English IV class, except for my Literary Magazine class that kids are dropping in what feels like an effort to actually make more work for the rest of us. I started with 10 kids (a cozy sized staff) and am down to 6. 6 kids to fundraise three thousand dollars; 6 kids to campaign for submissions, judge them, and edit them for publication; 6 kids to design and create a publication worthy of selling. 6 kids to do all of that and more. It's a tall order.)
On top of the extra work loads, today I had students comparing walking through perpetual minefields and explosions to get to school (like Sunshine in Mosul) with being upset because taking today's notes made their hands cramp.
"It's similar. I mean, both are inconveniences. Besides, a bomb could fall on us at any second, so I can totally relate," one said. "This sucks."
"What?" I gasped. "Are you serious? You can't compare the two or possibly understand what it is like to live in a war torn country!"
"Yes I can," he said. "I mean, you never know what could happen, so it's totally the same. You could be walking down the street and get blown up. Besides, it's my opinion and I'm entitled to it."
"Sure, you're entitled to your opinion," I said, "but you're absolutely wrong, and how disrespectful to those who actually have to live through the falling bombs!"
He held his hand up to stop me from talking and then waved it around and said, "Whatever. I'm right and there's nothing you can do to change my mind."
This is the second full day of school.
Frighteningly, this year is already head and shoulders above last year. Despite my grumpiness tonight (sick baby in tow), I have some wonderful kids, too. I'll try to focus on them.. after my pity party.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
To my lovely Muslim brothers and sisters,
Ramadan Mubarak!!
May this be a time of peace and blessings for you and yours!
May this be a time of peace and blessings for you and yours!
Friday, August 21, 2009
Redefining Education
I wrote the following for a group called Project 2012, a discussion forum of folks who advocate true democracy (and who call for universal human rights) in community form. I'm not sure about how it will be received, or even if it will be, so I'm posting it here. Please pet me in case they don't.. :) Enjoy:
The classroom, like a church, is a sacred place where the teacher, like the minister, has an inviolate commission, not only to be a guide, but to serve. He cannot be a party to the capitalist's idea of prosperity, one that does not equate to abundance. Instead, he has to understand that his investment is one of respect - that the only way to create communitas is to engage in a true learning, a democratic society where all opinions are weighed, where everyone, including the teacher, learns, thus producing profit for all.
Thanks to this list, I allowed myself to think about what ideal education looks like stripped of the confines and/or trappings of government interference: assessments, budgets, rules, and dogma. I looked at Gandhi who spoke in terms of "the village." He spoke about education in relational terms - that the educator is also the student. He believed in educating the whole person and was a proponent of manual labor (and against machinery), insisting that it was faulty to consider that type of work lesser than any other type. I looked at the ideas of the Brazilian philosopher, Paulo Freire, who also promoted education as a relationship - more democratic in the give and take. There are a million philosophies to consider Hegel, Bloom, Rousseau, Marx... Too many.
I decided, instead, to pose the ideal as a question to my colleagues, fellow teachers who have more years of combined experience than they'd like for me to share. I asked them, "What does genuine education look like? Is it possible?"
The thing that all of the responses had in common (though different approaches were offered) was that "kids learn to think." Too often (and to the detriment of society) have we created automatons - robots who can produce the correct answer, but who can't explain how they've arrived there. We have kids who can operate technology, but who don't understand how the technology works. Somehow that's a respect issue.
In the US the modern school system was created to produce factory workers. From there, it has itself become a factory of capitalist production where minimal investment is expected to create a maximum return. Unfortunately, this system is backfiring in a huge way, to the detriment of society.
We have to go back to a place where education is about the exchange, about thinking and experimentation -trial and error and consideration -where getting the wrong answer is ok as long as you learn from the attempt.
I don't know what that kind of school truly looks like, other than it must be divorced of standardized everything. But education is expensive, especially in the investments of time, patience, and money. It also requires a ridiculous amount of trust. I do know that there are many teachers out there who understand this and who attempt to participate in the ideal despite the interference of the state. That's hopeful at least.
The classroom, like a church, is a sacred place where the teacher, like the minister, has an inviolate commission, not only to be a guide, but to serve. He cannot be a party to the capitalist's idea of prosperity, one that does not equate to abundance. Instead, he has to understand that his investment is one of respect - that the only way to create communitas is to engage in a true learning, a democratic society where all opinions are weighed, where everyone, including the teacher, learns, thus producing profit for all.
Thanks to this list, I allowed myself to think about what ideal education looks like stripped of the confines and/or trappings of government interference: assessments, budgets, rules, and dogma. I looked at Gandhi who spoke in terms of "the village." He spoke about education in relational terms - that the educator is also the student. He believed in educating the whole person and was a proponent of manual labor (and against machinery), insisting that it was faulty to consider that type of work lesser than any other type. I looked at the ideas of the Brazilian philosopher, Paulo Freire, who also promoted education as a relationship - more democratic in the give and take. There are a million philosophies to consider Hegel, Bloom, Rousseau, Marx... Too many.
I decided, instead, to pose the ideal as a question to my colleagues, fellow teachers who have more years of combined experience than they'd like for me to share. I asked them, "What does genuine education look like? Is it possible?"
The thing that all of the responses had in common (though different approaches were offered) was that "kids learn to think." Too often (and to the detriment of society) have we created automatons - robots who can produce the correct answer, but who can't explain how they've arrived there. We have kids who can operate technology, but who don't understand how the technology works. Somehow that's a respect issue.
In the US the modern school system was created to produce factory workers. From there, it has itself become a factory of capitalist production where minimal investment is expected to create a maximum return. Unfortunately, this system is backfiring in a huge way, to the detriment of society.
We have to go back to a place where education is about the exchange, about thinking and experimentation -trial and error and consideration -where getting the wrong answer is ok as long as you learn from the attempt.
I don't know what that kind of school truly looks like, other than it must be divorced of standardized everything. But education is expensive, especially in the investments of time, patience, and money. It also requires a ridiculous amount of trust. I do know that there are many teachers out there who understand this and who attempt to participate in the ideal despite the interference of the state. That's hopeful at least.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Overheard: Teacher Staff Development
A principal, on staffing:
"The On Campus Suspension teacher will not be returning this year. He moved to Oklahoma and opened a night club."
A principal, on dress code:
"Remember to keep in mind that thongs are dangerous."
The school nurse's sage advice:
"If it's wet and not yours, don't touch it."
(And the school year has only begun, darlings!)
"The On Campus Suspension teacher will not be returning this year. He moved to Oklahoma and opened a night club."
A principal, on dress code:
"Remember to keep in mind that thongs are dangerous."
The school nurse's sage advice:
"If it's wet and not yours, don't touch it."
(And the school year has only begun, darlings!)
Monday, August 10, 2009
Tag is Weird, Philosophically
I got tagged by the very lovely Sandy. Sadly, everyone who has ever played tag with me knows that if I'm ever tagged, the game is pretty much over. I stink at tag. I never tag anyone else. By definition, I'm "it". I will spend eternity being "it" which isn't really a compliment, is it. I mean people run away from being "it". That's the game. Funny how opposite things are in the real world.
Anyway, I'm not sure why I'm bad at tag; if it's because I don't want to actually decide who to tag next for fear that he/she might hate me later, or if it's because me running is more like watching any dance move by Martin Short - awkward, and too much like the pee pee dance under a very tiny sombrero.
Anyway, I got tagged which means you guys get to endure six random things about me:
1. John Lennon and I share a birthday.
2. I worked security at the Atlanta Olympics. I wore kelly green pants, a starched white shirt, and a pith helmet. My job was to “wand” the folks who failed the initial security metal detector test. I had to actually say to the person… er ..failure? customer? field hockey venue attendee? Random man in line whose penis stud would soon set off the alarm, embarrassing both him and me, but more me because I was young and far less snarky at the time? (sigh) Anyway, as I was saying, correct procedure according to the Olympic committee per the instructions on my official Olympic volunteer security video was to say to that person before the wanding commenced, and I quote:
“Excuse me sir. May I wand you?”
Pith helmet and security wand aside, I felt pretty bad ass since I had a birds’ nest of army snipers at my beck and call. All I had to do was point and nod, then step aside.
3. I attended the 50th anniversary of the alien landing event in Roswell. This event happened while I was in college, aka the years of stupidity spent in academia. Several of my friends stuffed ourselves into a minivan and drove from Lubbock , TX to Roswell, NM, a three hour, spur of the moment trip down a highway that’s best and only good quality is that it is a straight shot. We arrived at the International UFO Museum and Research Center , and found ourselves in the midst of a serious convention. Among the tourists were ..uh.. others who were listening to the walls near displayed “artifact’s” and taking notes. There were some that were promoting their conspiracy agendas via handouts and shouting, and of course there were panel discussions of those who had been abducted and, I assume, probed. All in all it was a fascinating experience. We bought our alien fridge magnets and headed back.
4. I was recently assaulted by a two man conga line. Yet another karmic consequence of irrationally hating Gloria Estefan.
5. “Janet Reno’s Dance Party” still freaking cracks me up, but it still comes in second to “More Cowbell!” Though we have to give Reno props for actually showing up for the awkward last sketch, the weirdness quotient is always compounded where Christopher Walken’s face and Will Farrell’s belly are involved. Add in enthusiastic cowbell thwacking, and it’s TKO – “More Cowbell” wins. Hands down.
6. Things that everyone else can do but me include:
* Hula-hoop. Never could. It gives me cramps.
* Float on my back in a pool. I sink right to the bottom.
* Be hypnotized. I'm too controlling.
* Write a G in cursive. Dude! I know!
* Dribble a basketball without looking at it.
* Stand up straight.
* PLAY TAG.
And now, in a free-for-all tag attempt (so that no one is excluded), imagine me (like Martin Short dancing), running behind you, yelling "TUWANDAAAAA!"
Tag. You're it.
Anyway, I'm not sure why I'm bad at tag; if it's because I don't want to actually decide who to tag next for fear that he/she might hate me later, or if it's because me running is more like watching any dance move by Martin Short - awkward, and too much like the pee pee dance under a very tiny sombrero.
Anyway, I got tagged which means you guys get to endure six random things about me:
1. John Lennon and I share a birthday.
2. I worked security at the Atlanta Olympics. I wore kelly green pants, a starched white shirt, and a pith helmet. My job was to “wand” the folks who failed the initial security metal detector test. I had to actually say to the person… er ..failure? customer? field hockey venue attendee? Random man in line whose penis stud would soon set off the alarm, embarrassing both him and me, but more me because I was young and far less snarky at the time? (sigh) Anyway, as I was saying, correct procedure according to the Olympic committee per the instructions on my official Olympic volunteer security video was to say to that person before the wanding commenced, and I quote:
“Excuse me sir. May I wand you?”
Pith helmet and security wand aside, I felt pretty bad ass since I had a birds’ nest of army snipers at my beck and call. All I had to do was point and nod, then step aside.
3. I attended the 50th anniversary of the alien landing event in Roswell. This event happened while I was in college, aka the years of stupidity spent in academia. Several of my friends stuffed ourselves into a minivan and drove from Lubbock , TX to Roswell, NM, a three hour, spur of the moment trip down a highway that’s best and only good quality is that it is a straight shot. We arrived at the International UFO Museum and Research Center , and found ourselves in the midst of a serious convention. Among the tourists were ..uh.. others who were listening to the walls near displayed “artifact’s” and taking notes. There were some that were promoting their conspiracy agendas via handouts and shouting, and of course there were panel discussions of those who had been abducted and, I assume, probed. All in all it was a fascinating experience. We bought our alien fridge magnets and headed back.
4. I was recently assaulted by a two man conga line. Yet another karmic consequence of irrationally hating Gloria Estefan.
5. “Janet Reno’s Dance Party” still freaking cracks me up, but it still comes in second to “More Cowbell!” Though we have to give Reno props for actually showing up for the awkward last sketch, the weirdness quotient is always compounded where Christopher Walken’s face and Will Farrell’s belly are involved. Add in enthusiastic cowbell thwacking, and it’s TKO – “More Cowbell” wins. Hands down.
6. Things that everyone else can do but me include:
* Hula-hoop. Never could. It gives me cramps.
* Float on my back in a pool. I sink right to the bottom.
* Be hypnotized. I'm too controlling.
* Write a G in cursive. Dude! I know!
* Dribble a basketball without looking at it.
* Stand up straight.
* PLAY TAG.
And now, in a free-for-all tag attempt (so that no one is excluded), imagine me (like Martin Short dancing), running behind you, yelling "TUWANDAAAAA!"
Tag. You're it.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
People in Common - Democracy in Action
The following gives voice to a lovely message and movement going on in London. Please enjoy this from my friend, Mark:
I think I'll go for a picnic next week end..
I think I'll go for a picnic next week end..
Friday, August 7, 2009
Overheard: Man Crush
Sitting in a group of folks, desperately trying not to talk about work (and having already exhausted topics such as "What's your porn star name?" and "What's the weirdest thing you've ever done, the PG version?"):
Her, to the men in the group: SO. Who is your man cru..?"
(Before she could finish the question)
Man in the group, the same one whose porn star name is Richard Concord: ANTHONY BOURDAIN! ANTHONY BOURDAIN!!!
Her: "..ush?"
Others in the group: Wow. That was a fairly enthusiastic and odd response..
Dick Concord: Yeah. This has happened to me before. I hear the word "crush" and I'm all,"ANTHONY BOURDAIN!!!" and they're all "No. I wanted crushed ice," and I'm all, "Oh. Ok. That's cool."
Her, to the men in the group: SO. Who is your man cru..?"
(Before she could finish the question)
Man in the group, the same one whose porn star name is Richard Concord: ANTHONY BOURDAIN! ANTHONY BOURDAIN!!!
Her: "..ush?"
Others in the group: Wow. That was a fairly enthusiastic and odd response..
Dick Concord: Yeah. This has happened to me before. I hear the word "crush" and I'm all,"ANTHONY BOURDAIN!!!" and they're all "No. I wanted crushed ice," and I'm all, "Oh. Ok. That's cool."
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