Aunt J made some really cute baby clothes for us. She crocheted them and it was so neat to get the package from her and see the craftmanship that she did. Someone in the United States actually did something that was not on a computer or on paper and has a function.
Our society seems to have gotten so far away from craftmanship. Everything we buy is made someplace else. Our cars, our furniture, our electronics, our food...
The thing Aunt J told me to do was to make sure to keep the items in the family when we are done with them. It had not really occurred to me how important that is, but it was a great reminder of the need to be creative and have things to pass down to future generations. My great grandfather O was an amazing mechanic. When he died, we got his tools.
It also reinforces the idea of making our own stuff. Why not? My wife made pillowcases for the family for Christmas. I know that I am going to be using that pillowcase for Christmas for the rest of my life. I even helped... I ironed them a little.
And of course, my Dad's paintings will always be treasured. My sister and I feel loss every time someone else buys his work. We kind of want to horde them all up. Of course, we cannot do that, but I hope to have many more paintings of his.
27 January 2008
26 January 2008
Not So Sly...
I don't get it. I really don't. What is with Sylvester Stallone doing Rocky and Rambo lately? Are these really such endearing characters that we have to see them again? What is wrong with creating something new, Sly? What is with our stupid sequel-oriented society? All we do is watch sequels. All they give us is sequels.
People who love making money probably think sequels are just the best thing ever. They probably marvel at the idea. How brilliant. Some movie company happened to make something that we enjoyed once, so they are just going to give them the same thing over again and demand our money. Then, they are going to give it to us again and again and again.
Look at the movie, Jaws. What a great movie. Then, look at the sequels! How embarrassing! Yet, the sequels probably made so much money that they dwarfed the original! But, they are such forgettable movies. Spielberg had no interest in a sequel. He made the movie. That was the movie. He killed the shark. Why would another shark come to the same cold water? Why would the shark have the same theme music? But yet the producers guessed right. All they needed to have was some scared kids in sailboats out in the middle of the ocean and there is our Jaws movie.
Think about this formula. Someone comes up with a creative movie. And, people go to see it and it makes all kinds of money. Then, the producers are thinking sequel. So, they bring back as much as they can from the original. But wait! We are going to have in this one a funny little Asian kid as Indy's sidekick. Or, we will have the Karate Kid be a girl. That will really throw them. So, there is no art left in it at all. It is just the constant pandering of these studios trying to target the audience.
And they wonder why people aren't going to movies anymore. The creativity is not there. They are not bringing us anything. They just regurgitate the same formulas. If movies cannot bring us a new, fun experience, then maybe they need to change. And I hate to say that because I love movies.
People who love making money probably think sequels are just the best thing ever. They probably marvel at the idea. How brilliant. Some movie company happened to make something that we enjoyed once, so they are just going to give them the same thing over again and demand our money. Then, they are going to give it to us again and again and again.
Look at the movie, Jaws. What a great movie. Then, look at the sequels! How embarrassing! Yet, the sequels probably made so much money that they dwarfed the original! But, they are such forgettable movies. Spielberg had no interest in a sequel. He made the movie. That was the movie. He killed the shark. Why would another shark come to the same cold water? Why would the shark have the same theme music? But yet the producers guessed right. All they needed to have was some scared kids in sailboats out in the middle of the ocean and there is our Jaws movie.
Think about this formula. Someone comes up with a creative movie. And, people go to see it and it makes all kinds of money. Then, the producers are thinking sequel. So, they bring back as much as they can from the original. But wait! We are going to have in this one a funny little Asian kid as Indy's sidekick. Or, we will have the Karate Kid be a girl. That will really throw them. So, there is no art left in it at all. It is just the constant pandering of these studios trying to target the audience.
And they wonder why people aren't going to movies anymore. The creativity is not there. They are not bringing us anything. They just regurgitate the same formulas. If movies cannot bring us a new, fun experience, then maybe they need to change. And I hate to say that because I love movies.
There Is No Eye in Team
Recently, I had a discussion with my friend, L, on team commitment in sports. He got me to understand his point of view, even though I felt his style was not terribly considerate.
Team commitment is one of the initial steps it takes to having a good cohesive group that can win ball games.
I grew up with a Father who loved Fastpitch Softball. He lived and breathed it each weekend. He had the opportunity to manage a team of players after he had played a number of years. Part of being a manager was the concept of getting people to be there. If they did not have nine guys, then chances are they would have to give me a glove and have me go play right field. I don't think this ever happened, thank goodness, but I think it was brought up as a possibility. I know that in his city league, they would pick up people off the street and they would be out there in their jeans... Jeans! How embarrassing!
So why not recruit more players to the team? This could work if everyone on the team understands that they do not get as much playing time. But people sign up to play sports because they want to play. If my Dad had 18 players and all of them did show up, then half the team would have to sit on the bench. It was usually a tough decision for Dad to have to bench any players who sacrificed their time to come play. People also have egos. They complain or may jump ship to another team if they do not get their time on the field. Dad would often have to sit himself and he hated that, because he always wanted to play.
The main issue I have with commitment is the consideration one has for the other players on the team, especially the person in charge of the team. This goes for any type of sports team, whether it is some bowling league or a soccer team or a church basketball team. The initial goal for the manager is to make sure enough people are going to show up. Now, an objection to this might be "if not enough people show up, then obviously it is not very important to them to even play, so what does it matter?" It matters to those people who do show up. They look forward to playing week to week. This is how they choose to spend their free time. If people only come out to play when they feel like coming out or it is convenient to them, then the team and manager is forced to not trust them.
Trust is an initial component in many types of relationships. Family, business, and of course sports all rely on trust to start getting things going in the direction they want. Once the trust is established, then the team starts working together toward a common goal. In Family, the goal is to have love and joy. In Business, the goal is to make money. In Sports, the goal is to win.
The concept of winning is a little controversial in some of our namby pamby circles. We have this movement in children's sports which has kids dress up in the cute uniforms and all their expensive cute gear just so they can stand out there, not learn the game, do whatever they want and be awarded for it. I suppose the argument is if kids learned that winning and losing is part of the game, they may become upset, cry and go shoot up a mall somewhere. The child out there picking flowers on the ground, staring at the clouds and twirling in circles is encouraged. This is our future, non-committed, totally unique sports player.
My radical concept is this: The players go out there, work together as a team, learn how to improve their skills, and win. People like winning. People like doing their best and seeing the reward on the other end.
Now, does everyone like winning? Obviously not. Some people, like the twirling child, show up when they want, go out and do what they want with no expectation at all from anyone else or any team members. They have no interest in the team, nor helping the team get better.
Some non-committed players are good and they may hit home runs, score goals, spike the ball, score touchdowns, etc. But when they do not have the trust of the team, it becomes confusing to the players how to work with this individual. People get frustrated with team members who do not care about them. If there is no respect, even when there is some success, it is hard to have joy.
I am a big proponent of team. My favourite sport is volleyball and one could not ask for a more team sport. Every player has to work together. But it is not just with volleyball. I see it in every team sport. The trust and the teamwork have to be there and when it is not, it might as well be the children playing in the clouds.
I think there is a place for these people who do not care about their team. They could try the golf course. Oh wait! There may be people behind one depending on them to go faster. So forget that. Try tennis. Nope. Can't do that because their opponent depends on one to show up. Aha! I know where the non-committed individual fits in. The computer. There, they can play whatever they want, whenever they want. They can have a team. Or not have a team. They can win or lose. No one cares. And with a wii, they can actually mimic the sports actions.
Look at computers! They are so perfect... Perfect for people who have no desire to have relationships with mere mortals who want to have fun together and win.
Team commitment is one of the initial steps it takes to having a good cohesive group that can win ball games.
I grew up with a Father who loved Fastpitch Softball. He lived and breathed it each weekend. He had the opportunity to manage a team of players after he had played a number of years. Part of being a manager was the concept of getting people to be there. If they did not have nine guys, then chances are they would have to give me a glove and have me go play right field. I don't think this ever happened, thank goodness, but I think it was brought up as a possibility. I know that in his city league, they would pick up people off the street and they would be out there in their jeans... Jeans! How embarrassing!
So why not recruit more players to the team? This could work if everyone on the team understands that they do not get as much playing time. But people sign up to play sports because they want to play. If my Dad had 18 players and all of them did show up, then half the team would have to sit on the bench. It was usually a tough decision for Dad to have to bench any players who sacrificed their time to come play. People also have egos. They complain or may jump ship to another team if they do not get their time on the field. Dad would often have to sit himself and he hated that, because he always wanted to play.
The main issue I have with commitment is the consideration one has for the other players on the team, especially the person in charge of the team. This goes for any type of sports team, whether it is some bowling league or a soccer team or a church basketball team. The initial goal for the manager is to make sure enough people are going to show up. Now, an objection to this might be "if not enough people show up, then obviously it is not very important to them to even play, so what does it matter?" It matters to those people who do show up. They look forward to playing week to week. This is how they choose to spend their free time. If people only come out to play when they feel like coming out or it is convenient to them, then the team and manager is forced to not trust them.
Trust is an initial component in many types of relationships. Family, business, and of course sports all rely on trust to start getting things going in the direction they want. Once the trust is established, then the team starts working together toward a common goal. In Family, the goal is to have love and joy. In Business, the goal is to make money. In Sports, the goal is to win.
The concept of winning is a little controversial in some of our namby pamby circles. We have this movement in children's sports which has kids dress up in the cute uniforms and all their expensive cute gear just so they can stand out there, not learn the game, do whatever they want and be awarded for it. I suppose the argument is if kids learned that winning and losing is part of the game, they may become upset, cry and go shoot up a mall somewhere. The child out there picking flowers on the ground, staring at the clouds and twirling in circles is encouraged. This is our future, non-committed, totally unique sports player.
My radical concept is this: The players go out there, work together as a team, learn how to improve their skills, and win. People like winning. People like doing their best and seeing the reward on the other end.
Now, does everyone like winning? Obviously not. Some people, like the twirling child, show up when they want, go out and do what they want with no expectation at all from anyone else or any team members. They have no interest in the team, nor helping the team get better.
Some non-committed players are good and they may hit home runs, score goals, spike the ball, score touchdowns, etc. But when they do not have the trust of the team, it becomes confusing to the players how to work with this individual. People get frustrated with team members who do not care about them. If there is no respect, even when there is some success, it is hard to have joy.
I am a big proponent of team. My favourite sport is volleyball and one could not ask for a more team sport. Every player has to work together. But it is not just with volleyball. I see it in every team sport. The trust and the teamwork have to be there and when it is not, it might as well be the children playing in the clouds.
I think there is a place for these people who do not care about their team. They could try the golf course. Oh wait! There may be people behind one depending on them to go faster. So forget that. Try tennis. Nope. Can't do that because their opponent depends on one to show up. Aha! I know where the non-committed individual fits in. The computer. There, they can play whatever they want, whenever they want. They can have a team. Or not have a team. They can win or lose. No one cares. And with a wii, they can actually mimic the sports actions.
Look at computers! They are so perfect... Perfect for people who have no desire to have relationships with mere mortals who want to have fun together and win.
18 January 2008
A Very Precise Procedure
This week was Movie Night with T, a double feature on Wednesday. As part of this, we decided to pick up some wings. Well, I know that I cannot do KFC. I get sick there. And, I guess Wingers just does not quite match up to...(drum roll please)
Being the magnanimous one, I decided to brave it and pick them up (the wings), even though it would be much closer for T to get them. I guess I did not really think about it at the time, but this makes me look really bad. Oh yeah, I am really magnanimous, going out of my way to pick up chicken wings at a place populated with tip-hungry babes in tight tank tops and shiny orange shorts hiked up to their armpits.
This place is kind of taboo in this particular state with this particular culture, so one can imagine the anxiety of approaching the building. I see a guy smoking in the parking lot and I want to acknowledge him and have him give me the nod of approval to somewhat signify that we are all in this together. But he doesn't. The place just seems like a stripper bar from the outside. There are no friendly open windows. There are some that face the west, but they are all shaded and darkened (mainly because that direction faces the sun for the better part of the day during the summer), but still...
I walk in and I am immediately intimidated. I don't want to be. I want to just get my wings and go. I have nothing to prove here. But there the staff are, all bunched up together waiting for the evening rush to start. They look like a chick clique from high school. Or college. Absolute control on their part. I hate that!
One of them is friendly and asks if she can help me. I told them I was there for take-out and I had called in.
They then needed to call Monica, who I guess was the one who took my order over the phone. I remember her name, because the beyond belief fake-boobed chick at the counter kept calling her "Mon! Mon! Monica! Mon! Hey Monica!" This really threw me off. Why could this other girl not just ring me up? Why did Monica, who was apparently busy with something else in the back, have to ring me up? Unfortunately for Monica, it was not until much later that I figured out the reason.
So, I sign for the receipt and it came to $14 for a 20 piece meal. Since I called in, I figured not much tip is really necessary, so I left a buck, making it an even $15. I grabbed my wings and left.
Some may say that this is not a very big deal, but upon reflection, I realized a couple things. First, this is Hooters. The whole idea of it is to have big hootered women serve guy-type meals to dudes. The women are made to look athletic with not too many clothes on. They act extraordinarily friendly, even flirtatious as part of their job. So, all of that comes in a complete package. Each person who orders gets their own special Hooters girl. So that goes for when one comes to sit down or if one calls in. Monica was my Hooters girl and I gave her a dollar tip.
My wife says so what. When someone calls in one expects that there is no tip necessary. But, I feel bad. Whether one likes the system or not, there is still the Hooters experience. Sure, my Hooters experience was only a couple minutes, but the girl did everything she could to make it Hooterized. She dropped the wings in a little before I got there. She smiled and had on the outfit. I think that going to Hooters is a little different than going to Denny's or Outback or Fuddrucker's. More is expected of the customer.
Even if the system is not part of one's standard procedure, one should still respect it. I may visit another church and as they pass around the collection plate, it is only courtesy to drop in some money. Or, if my cousin does the magazine drive shakedown from her school, I should at least pick up a subscription to France Weekly.
If I am willing to go to such lengths for other situations, then why should I not give more money to some girl who is essentially selling her body to make a living?
Being the magnanimous one, I decided to brave it and pick them up (the wings), even though it would be much closer for T to get them. I guess I did not really think about it at the time, but this makes me look really bad. Oh yeah, I am really magnanimous, going out of my way to pick up chicken wings at a place populated with tip-hungry babes in tight tank tops and shiny orange shorts hiked up to their armpits.
This place is kind of taboo in this particular state with this particular culture, so one can imagine the anxiety of approaching the building. I see a guy smoking in the parking lot and I want to acknowledge him and have him give me the nod of approval to somewhat signify that we are all in this together. But he doesn't. The place just seems like a stripper bar from the outside. There are no friendly open windows. There are some that face the west, but they are all shaded and darkened (mainly because that direction faces the sun for the better part of the day during the summer), but still...
I walk in and I am immediately intimidated. I don't want to be. I want to just get my wings and go. I have nothing to prove here. But there the staff are, all bunched up together waiting for the evening rush to start. They look like a chick clique from high school. Or college. Absolute control on their part. I hate that!
One of them is friendly and asks if she can help me. I told them I was there for take-out and I had called in.
They then needed to call Monica, who I guess was the one who took my order over the phone. I remember her name, because the beyond belief fake-boobed chick at the counter kept calling her "Mon! Mon! Monica! Mon! Hey Monica!" This really threw me off. Why could this other girl not just ring me up? Why did Monica, who was apparently busy with something else in the back, have to ring me up? Unfortunately for Monica, it was not until much later that I figured out the reason.
So, I sign for the receipt and it came to $14 for a 20 piece meal. Since I called in, I figured not much tip is really necessary, so I left a buck, making it an even $15. I grabbed my wings and left.
Some may say that this is not a very big deal, but upon reflection, I realized a couple things. First, this is Hooters. The whole idea of it is to have big hootered women serve guy-type meals to dudes. The women are made to look athletic with not too many clothes on. They act extraordinarily friendly, even flirtatious as part of their job. So, all of that comes in a complete package. Each person who orders gets their own special Hooters girl. So that goes for when one comes to sit down or if one calls in. Monica was my Hooters girl and I gave her a dollar tip.
My wife says so what. When someone calls in one expects that there is no tip necessary. But, I feel bad. Whether one likes the system or not, there is still the Hooters experience. Sure, my Hooters experience was only a couple minutes, but the girl did everything she could to make it Hooterized. She dropped the wings in a little before I got there. She smiled and had on the outfit. I think that going to Hooters is a little different than going to Denny's or Outback or Fuddrucker's. More is expected of the customer.
Even if the system is not part of one's standard procedure, one should still respect it. I may visit another church and as they pass around the collection plate, it is only courtesy to drop in some money. Or, if my cousin does the magazine drive shakedown from her school, I should at least pick up a subscription to France Weekly.
If I am willing to go to such lengths for other situations, then why should I not give more money to some girl who is essentially selling her body to make a living?
13 January 2008
N
I have a friend named N, who I really respect as a writer. He has not written anything in at least 10 years, but I still know he has it in him. I asked him to read my blog and comment on it. I want his critique. Sometimes I know I go for the cheap joke and I would appreciate it if he was there to call me on it.
I have an Uncle N too who is a great director. He has made lots of great movies. Even though he has not done a movie in quite awhile, I still know he has it in him. And, Uncle N has a way of calling me on stuff too.
I need to have N write a script for Uncle N. Then, I could be entertained, because that is what I miss.
I enjoy the creative world. I feel saddened by all those who give it up. I know it is a lot of effort, but please don't. Just do something, even if it is small...
I have an Uncle N too who is a great director. He has made lots of great movies. Even though he has not done a movie in quite awhile, I still know he has it in him. And, Uncle N has a way of calling me on stuff too.
I need to have N write a script for Uncle N. Then, I could be entertained, because that is what I miss.
I enjoy the creative world. I feel saddened by all those who give it up. I know it is a lot of effort, but please don't. Just do something, even if it is small...
12 January 2008
I Like High Mountain Huckleberry Soda
I am reading the Adventures of HuckleBerry Finn right now. I remember reading it as a kid and seeing this really cool HBO mini-series on it. But now that I am reading it as an adult, it speaks to me much more than it did before.
Huckleberry Finn is this boy who is caught up in the whole slavery dilemma. He thinks slaves are property, but then he has a real friendship with Jim, a black man. He is actually in a situation where he is somewhat driven to do the right thing even though society tells him it is not. Huck is a fascinating character, because he is sort of the rebel of the town. He is not a character many people would normally be able to identify with. But Twain writes it in such a way so as to make you feel like Huck is totally normal (or totally Twain).
I think most people are not as fortunate as Huckleberry Finn in their ability to be free of society's restrictions. We grow up going to school, church and thinking a certain way. Our families raise us to take a certain political stance. We come to see ourselves as people who have a certain place within that society. An importance. I was not raised to hate other races, but I know that at some point I had to recognize the differences in race and come to some conclusions about them. Whether those conclusions were right or wrong, they were important in recognizing who I was and what I could do.
Huck Finn was a boy who was forced to see those differences a little earlier in his life than most. But, in being a rebel and a boy instead of a man, he is not cornered into making a societal choice. He is free to think over what to do. He has society telling him slavery is the way things are supposed to be. He also sees Jim as a person and a friend. Reading this as a boy, the answers are so obvious. Reading this as an adult, there is a very profound metaphor about the way man is and what needs to be overcome.
It is more than just slavery that Huck has issues with. When it comes to man's relationship with God and the practical notions of prayer, he has a real hard time. Why pray when there is no visible evidence that it works? It is the common man mentality of wanting to see proof before one does something. Even though I have a pretty firm belief in prayer myself, I still see how someone who has no upbringing with that might have problems relating to it.
Going down the river with Jim to help him become free was not Huck's only goal. He was essentially escaping himself from the tyranny of his father. So, having Jim along helped him with his loneliness and in making decisions. I do want to help other people in life, but on the way, I want to play volleyball, basketball, golf and many other sports. I want to write, create, program and learn. I want to make money, save it and spend it. I want to be married and have children. I want to watch movies, read books and listen to CDs. I can do all this self-interest and still help others right?
Oh! And I want to drink High Mountain Huckleberry Soda...
06 January 2008
Football... Leading the Way to Bigger Egos
You know what I love about College Football that bothers me about the NFL? Yep! You guessed it! Celebration Penalty! How I wish that those idiots in the NFL would cut that celebration crap out after every stupid play. It's so embarrassing and it takes so much away from the game.
Some may ask why it takes away from the game. I feel that there are three main issues with this.
1. The player is acting in a proud way which directs more attention to him. He is essentially saying that "I tackled the quarterback!" or "I ran it into the end zone!" or "I got away with the pass interference!" But that is just it. He may have done those things, but he did not do it without the help of his team. They are making it so that people remember them regardless of their actual play. And, maybe that is a smart decision when it comes to making more money, but it is so sad to see that results do not count on their own.
2. They are taunting the other team. They are rubbing their noses in it and I was always told that that is poor sportsmanship. Those guys are out there playing their guts out and suddenly one play happens to go the wrong way and the opposing player gets to do his Lights Out dance. So when my kids are playing football with their friends and the quarterback gets sacked by my boy, I am to expect my son to get up and jump up and down pumping his fists in a squatting position? Well, that is what his football idol does. Those are the kind of people I do not want to play with.
3. It becomes a matter of one-upmanship which has nothing to do with the sport. The player makes a touchdown and pulls out a Sharpie to sign the ball and give it to a fan. Or another player scores and gets in a lame bowling stance. The shock-factor becomes more to them than the game. Each one of them has to have their own little dance or signature. And once again, the player is making sure the focus is all on him.
I see this stuff and I do not want to even watch football. I do not want to see my team do that. I feel like they are not my team when they act in that way.
And what is the excuse that they make for this poor behaviour? Well, the kids love it. The kids look up to this form of creative expression that the individual players have out on the field. To me, the creative expression comes in the performance of the game. When a running back dances around to avoid tackles and makes significant yardage, that is the art I want to see. Those are the moves that are proper for the game. It is almost as if the players insist on bringing the Super Bowl Halftime Show to each game. And we all know that those are the worst performances ever...
I remember playing sports and getting excited when I did something well (do something well. I still play), but at that point, the game is far from over. If it is the last play, it is okay to celebrate and dance around, because at that point, the game is over. One celebrates a victory. One does not celebrate and dance around over a single play. Because we all know what happens next. The following four plays the guy gets burned. Nothing is said about that though.
I think the problem is the showmanship of football. It is the biggest sport in the United States of America. It has a ton of money in it and so many fans. And, it just keeps getting bigger and bigger. The players not only have the biggest egos, but they are getting paid so much money. So, there is no end to it. With that ego comes a bigger focus on the individual and the team means less and less.
But then, the league loves it. As long as it brings in more money, the NFL does not care. They could care less if they are helping to create poor sports and egotistical jerks both on and off the field. Make it a penalty to do that stuff like in College. Let's head back to college and learn something. If nothing else, the future of American sports would have some hope with the team concept...
Some may ask why it takes away from the game. I feel that there are three main issues with this.
1. The player is acting in a proud way which directs more attention to him. He is essentially saying that "I tackled the quarterback!" or "I ran it into the end zone!" or "I got away with the pass interference!" But that is just it. He may have done those things, but he did not do it without the help of his team. They are making it so that people remember them regardless of their actual play. And, maybe that is a smart decision when it comes to making more money, but it is so sad to see that results do not count on their own.
2. They are taunting the other team. They are rubbing their noses in it and I was always told that that is poor sportsmanship. Those guys are out there playing their guts out and suddenly one play happens to go the wrong way and the opposing player gets to do his Lights Out dance. So when my kids are playing football with their friends and the quarterback gets sacked by my boy, I am to expect my son to get up and jump up and down pumping his fists in a squatting position? Well, that is what his football idol does. Those are the kind of people I do not want to play with.
3. It becomes a matter of one-upmanship which has nothing to do with the sport. The player makes a touchdown and pulls out a Sharpie to sign the ball and give it to a fan. Or another player scores and gets in a lame bowling stance. The shock-factor becomes more to them than the game. Each one of them has to have their own little dance or signature. And once again, the player is making sure the focus is all on him.
I see this stuff and I do not want to even watch football. I do not want to see my team do that. I feel like they are not my team when they act in that way.
And what is the excuse that they make for this poor behaviour? Well, the kids love it. The kids look up to this form of creative expression that the individual players have out on the field. To me, the creative expression comes in the performance of the game. When a running back dances around to avoid tackles and makes significant yardage, that is the art I want to see. Those are the moves that are proper for the game. It is almost as if the players insist on bringing the Super Bowl Halftime Show to each game. And we all know that those are the worst performances ever...
I remember playing sports and getting excited when I did something well (do something well. I still play), but at that point, the game is far from over. If it is the last play, it is okay to celebrate and dance around, because at that point, the game is over. One celebrates a victory. One does not celebrate and dance around over a single play. Because we all know what happens next. The following four plays the guy gets burned. Nothing is said about that though.
I think the problem is the showmanship of football. It is the biggest sport in the United States of America. It has a ton of money in it and so many fans. And, it just keeps getting bigger and bigger. The players not only have the biggest egos, but they are getting paid so much money. So, there is no end to it. With that ego comes a bigger focus on the individual and the team means less and less.
But then, the league loves it. As long as it brings in more money, the NFL does not care. They could care less if they are helping to create poor sports and egotistical jerks both on and off the field. Make it a penalty to do that stuff like in College. Let's head back to college and learn something. If nothing else, the future of American sports would have some hope with the team concept...
Watching Your Team Lose
One of the difficult things in life is watching your team lose. Spending the 2 or 3 hours of pain experiencing the trauma, the disappointment, the weakness and everything that is included with losing can be so frustrating. Why is it so disappointing? Why do we hope so much for our team to win? What do we have invested in it, besides our time for those couple hours?
It is half time right now of the San Diego Chargers - Tennessee Titans Wild Card Game and the Chargers are losing 6 - 0. They look terrible out there. This is a team that made it to the playoffs? Where is our star running back, LT? Our defense is doing pretty well, but our offense just looks poor. Tennesse has been just plugging away with short gains. We keep going for these big plays to save us. Isn't that something that they should have learned from years of playing the game? Get the first down. Get the first down. Charge up the field, slow if you have to, but just dominate. We keep getting to 3rd and long and have to rely on an amazing play to save us.
Now, I am just about to start up the second half and I hope that they come out and decide to be champions. Sports can be so tough to watch. You think it is just so mental. And from playing, I know that is true. So, what is it that these guys need? Do they need Gene Hackman to come in there and give them a rousing speech?
Norv Turner was brought in this year and still made the playoffs proving us all wrong that doubted he could do it. I figured he was a terrible coach, because he does have a losing record in the NFL. He is a good offensive coordinator I guess. But by making the playoffs I figure he proved something. He could do what Marty Schottenheimer could. Now, it would be nice if he could show us that he can do even more. Let's win a playoff game.
It is half time right now of the San Diego Chargers - Tennessee Titans Wild Card Game and the Chargers are losing 6 - 0. They look terrible out there. This is a team that made it to the playoffs? Where is our star running back, LT? Our defense is doing pretty well, but our offense just looks poor. Tennesse has been just plugging away with short gains. We keep going for these big plays to save us. Isn't that something that they should have learned from years of playing the game? Get the first down. Get the first down. Charge up the field, slow if you have to, but just dominate. We keep getting to 3rd and long and have to rely on an amazing play to save us.
Now, I am just about to start up the second half and I hope that they come out and decide to be champions. Sports can be so tough to watch. You think it is just so mental. And from playing, I know that is true. So, what is it that these guys need? Do they need Gene Hackman to come in there and give them a rousing speech?
Norv Turner was brought in this year and still made the playoffs proving us all wrong that doubted he could do it. I figured he was a terrible coach, because he does have a losing record in the NFL. He is a good offensive coordinator I guess. But by making the playoffs I figure he proved something. He could do what Marty Schottenheimer could. Now, it would be nice if he could show us that he can do even more. Let's win a playoff game.
03 January 2008
Man's True Best Friend (Or At Least Mine)
It's fun to be with my wife. We have a good time together. We are able to laugh at things we do and say.
Over the Christmas break, we slept in each morning and spent a lot of time reading. We did a little work, but as little as possible.
I was very impressed with her ability to paint as we started our new roommate's room. I felt a little bad that she had to do it, but she is much better at it than I am. I did learn a lot after making some big mistakes myself, but when we went to do the second coat, she was the champion.
If you look closely at this photo you will see a couple things that will make you smile and then possibly a little angry at me. She is wearing a mask because of the paint fumes. She is working hard to paint with a roller, because her husband was kind of clueless when he tried to do it. Also, I am taking the picture of her back while she is working.
She did not like it though when I told her of my intentions to stretch this room project out 4 months. All I was trying to say was that we did not have to get it all done immediately. The reason for this in my eyes was that I did not want to have to demand help so quick. In fact, I think I was secretly trying to figure out how to do it all on my own without having to ask anyone for help.
It is nice to be with someone who is fun to be with. It is nice to look at her and be amused or impressed. I like how she handles things and people and the way she reacts to stuff. Could this be any more vague?
It's hard to express love in more than just the pronouncement of love. It is difficult to know all the things to say. When we are with friends, they will ask her questions and I want to hear what she has to say. I look forward to her way of telling a story. Her exaggeration.
I suppose it may be difficult to say stuff like this, because I would have to explain it all later. Whereas, if I just write about the dog, he has no way of defending himself, much less reading what is said about him...
But I love my wife, A.
Over the Christmas break, we slept in each morning and spent a lot of time reading. We did a little work, but as little as possible.
I was very impressed with her ability to paint as we started our new roommate's room. I felt a little bad that she had to do it, but she is much better at it than I am. I did learn a lot after making some big mistakes myself, but when we went to do the second coat, she was the champion.
If you look closely at this photo you will see a couple things that will make you smile and then possibly a little angry at me. She is wearing a mask because of the paint fumes. She is working hard to paint with a roller, because her husband was kind of clueless when he tried to do it. Also, I am taking the picture of her back while she is working.
She did not like it though when I told her of my intentions to stretch this room project out 4 months. All I was trying to say was that we did not have to get it all done immediately. The reason for this in my eyes was that I did not want to have to demand help so quick. In fact, I think I was secretly trying to figure out how to do it all on my own without having to ask anyone for help.
It is nice to be with someone who is fun to be with. It is nice to look at her and be amused or impressed. I like how she handles things and people and the way she reacts to stuff. Could this be any more vague?
It's hard to express love in more than just the pronouncement of love. It is difficult to know all the things to say. When we are with friends, they will ask her questions and I want to hear what she has to say. I look forward to her way of telling a story. Her exaggeration.
I suppose it may be difficult to say stuff like this, because I would have to explain it all later. Whereas, if I just write about the dog, he has no way of defending himself, much less reading what is said about him...
But I love my wife, A.
30 December 2007
Making their way... the only way they know how...
I fear that my blog has turned into The Life and Postings of Sidemoss and His Dog. I will do my best to rectify this, but I am not sure that it can be helped. Originally, my life and reflections were based on the movies I watched, but I hardly watch anything anymore. I always wanted life to be like this, where I read and write and enjoy life making observations day to day. I have wanted to minimize the TV experience as much as possible, since true adventure usually occurs outside the realm of TV.
The idea is to become more creative and less critical. More productive and less producer-minded. Wow! I have been watching TV a long time. I think this writers' strike was the best thing that could have happened to my world...
Here we are
Face to Face
A couple of Silver Spoons...
Is TV creative? Or is it embarrassing? Is it there for escape? Or is it there to steal our time?
The idea is to become more creative and less critical. More productive and less producer-minded. Wow! I have been watching TV a long time. I think this writers' strike was the best thing that could have happened to my world...
Here we are
Face to Face
A couple of Silver Spoons...
Is TV creative? Or is it embarrassing? Is it there for escape? Or is it there to steal our time?
I am ready for diapers...
I am ready for diapers...
I think I am anyway. The other night was extremely cold, so I let Forrest sleep in the garage. I set up the Heat Dish in there and tied his leash to the railing. We bought him a $10 pillow from Cal Ranch, so it seemed like everything should work out well.
I had a tough time sleeping, mainly because of the Heat Dish being on all night. It was pretty safe, but still with Forrest, it made things unpredictable. The next morning I got up and let him out as soon as I woke up. I really did not notice anything out of the ordinary. His pillow looked a little wet, like he got real slobbery on it. I turned off the Heat Dish and went back to bed.
A few hours later, I decided to go shovel the driveway. When I passed Forrest's sleeping spot I noticed that he had in fact chewed off the corner of the pillow. On closer inspection, I discovered that in the night Forrest had crapped. The slobber all over the pillow was not slobber, but poop. It was on the underside and fused with the cold cement garage floor. It was a moment of anger and frustration with how a dog can be so lame...
Now, Forrest is a pretty big dog, so when he goes to the proverbial restroom, it is usually a double or triple flusher. After a week, when I scoop the poop in the backyard, we need to rent a backhoe to lift the poop bag out and place it in a trash can. So this garage dookie was all over the place.
When I assessed the situation later on, I realized that I really did not give Forrest a whole lot of options. In my effort to save him from the cold, I put him on a very short leash with a water dish in walking distance, a pillow, stairs and not much else. I was not even thinking about the bathroom situation. Thinking back, the time I went out to see him before I went to bed, he really wanted out. I think that was the signal that he had to go and not that he wanted to escape. How could I know this since he is an outside dog? But now, it does make sense. So, the situation is not without logic. Maybe I am the lame one.
So I scooped up as much as I could with a towel and threw that away. Then, the pillow. I threw that away. Paper Towels. Threw away. But the fused poop to the cold cement? What about that? I had to go in and get a bucket of warm water with a rag. This I did a couple times. It is now the cleanest spot on the whole garage floor.
How does this make me ready for diapers? My thinking on this is that I have a big fear of the whole dirty diaper concept. It smells. It's gross. It gets all over the place. I have had a tough enough time handling my own #2 visits... So here I am face to face with dog crap which is the equivalent of probably a week's worth of newborn infant poop. And I overcame it! Even though I wanted to run and hide in a closet full of baby wipes. I can only compare this to the scene in Batman Begins where he embraces the thing he fears the most by being in a cave surrounded by bats.
I am not sure what I am getting at exactly. Am I saying that I am going to be a super hero whose power emanates from the stealthy qualities exhibited by poop? I don't think that is what I am saying, but I think there is definitely a principle here in fighting fire with fire...
Or maybe I am just going to be the best diaper changer ever. People will call me from miles around to change them. Actually, I do not want to be so much of an overachiever...
I think I am anyway. The other night was extremely cold, so I let Forrest sleep in the garage. I set up the Heat Dish in there and tied his leash to the railing. We bought him a $10 pillow from Cal Ranch, so it seemed like everything should work out well.
I had a tough time sleeping, mainly because of the Heat Dish being on all night. It was pretty safe, but still with Forrest, it made things unpredictable. The next morning I got up and let him out as soon as I woke up. I really did not notice anything out of the ordinary. His pillow looked a little wet, like he got real slobbery on it. I turned off the Heat Dish and went back to bed.
A few hours later, I decided to go shovel the driveway. When I passed Forrest's sleeping spot I noticed that he had in fact chewed off the corner of the pillow. On closer inspection, I discovered that in the night Forrest had crapped. The slobber all over the pillow was not slobber, but poop. It was on the underside and fused with the cold cement garage floor. It was a moment of anger and frustration with how a dog can be so lame...
Now, Forrest is a pretty big dog, so when he goes to the proverbial restroom, it is usually a double or triple flusher. After a week, when I scoop the poop in the backyard, we need to rent a backhoe to lift the poop bag out and place it in a trash can. So this garage dookie was all over the place.
When I assessed the situation later on, I realized that I really did not give Forrest a whole lot of options. In my effort to save him from the cold, I put him on a very short leash with a water dish in walking distance, a pillow, stairs and not much else. I was not even thinking about the bathroom situation. Thinking back, the time I went out to see him before I went to bed, he really wanted out. I think that was the signal that he had to go and not that he wanted to escape. How could I know this since he is an outside dog? But now, it does make sense. So, the situation is not without logic. Maybe I am the lame one.
So I scooped up as much as I could with a towel and threw that away. Then, the pillow. I threw that away. Paper Towels. Threw away. But the fused poop to the cold cement? What about that? I had to go in and get a bucket of warm water with a rag. This I did a couple times. It is now the cleanest spot on the whole garage floor.
How does this make me ready for diapers? My thinking on this is that I have a big fear of the whole dirty diaper concept. It smells. It's gross. It gets all over the place. I have had a tough enough time handling my own #2 visits... So here I am face to face with dog crap which is the equivalent of probably a week's worth of newborn infant poop. And I overcame it! Even though I wanted to run and hide in a closet full of baby wipes. I can only compare this to the scene in Batman Begins where he embraces the thing he fears the most by being in a cave surrounded by bats.
I am not sure what I am getting at exactly. Am I saying that I am going to be a super hero whose power emanates from the stealthy qualities exhibited by poop? I don't think that is what I am saying, but I think there is definitely a principle here in fighting fire with fire...
Or maybe I am just going to be the best diaper changer ever. People will call me from miles around to change them. Actually, I do not want to be so much of an overachiever...
26 December 2007
DreamViewer
In the movie Until the End of the World, the characters reach a point where they get these handheld devices which allow them to see their own dreams. They become so addicted to the device that they do not do anything, but just spend their whole day watching their dreams. It is kind of a mistake for the movie, because there is a pretty compelling plot up to that point and the movie nosedives when the dream viewing comes along. However, I like the idea that it conveyed, that the people could not (or would not) do anything but continue in their own self-absorption with this little mechanical device. And their relationships just fall apart, because they can only exist for their dreams.
I just received one of these little devices for Christmas and I caught a glimpse of myself staring into the void of the view screen, while my wife spoke to me in the background. With these types of wonderment, we need never be bored again. Now, we can access information at the drop of a hat. Videos, Music, Phone Calls, Internet. When I go to the bathroom, I can continue shopping or researching or sending text messages to friends. No longer do I have personal time to reflect on life or new inventions. I have my dreams before me and I can just continue accessing all that it will allow.
I am not sure what the resolution was for them in the movie. I think they ran out of batteries or something. I do need to come up with ways to keep myself from being lost in the void of my own dreams. I am going to seek out boredom because I need to take away the control I feel like I have to have. I will leave the device in my room and go shovel snow. I will watch the DIY channel and come up with dreams on my own.
The DreamViewer is a great tool. I cannot imagine something today being so cool and useful. It is a means. It is a means. A means. Not an end.
I just received one of these little devices for Christmas and I caught a glimpse of myself staring into the void of the view screen, while my wife spoke to me in the background. With these types of wonderment, we need never be bored again. Now, we can access information at the drop of a hat. Videos, Music, Phone Calls, Internet. When I go to the bathroom, I can continue shopping or researching or sending text messages to friends. No longer do I have personal time to reflect on life or new inventions. I have my dreams before me and I can just continue accessing all that it will allow.
I am not sure what the resolution was for them in the movie. I think they ran out of batteries or something. I do need to come up with ways to keep myself from being lost in the void of my own dreams. I am going to seek out boredom because I need to take away the control I feel like I have to have. I will leave the device in my room and go shovel snow. I will watch the DIY channel and come up with dreams on my own.
The DreamViewer is a great tool. I cannot imagine something today being so cool and useful. It is a means. It is a means. A means. Not an end.
21 December 2007
Round 2... Fight!
The results are in.
The votes have been counted.
And, the unit has spoken.
The W name lives on.
My wife is carrying a son.
The votes have been counted.
And, the unit has spoken.
The W name lives on.
My wife is carrying a son.
18 December 2007
Resolution #683
Do you ever look back on a time and wish you had been more like George Costanza?
Yesterday, we were dining at Carrabba's for lunch. My friend, M, orders a smoothie. It came with a straw. The waiter left for a few minutes and then came back for our orders. When he returned, M asked him for a spoon. The waiter's response was this: "We only provide spoons when you order soup." Then, he left and never brought us a spoon the whole time we were there. We ended up paying for our meal and giving him a decent tip. We also made excuses for the guy saying things like: "Well, he's new." Or "It's the company's policy."
At the time I actually mentioned that it would be nice to have someone with us who has a confrontational personality. Now, that I look back on it, I should have said this: "Are you really not going to bring him a spoon? What? Were we supposed to bring our own spoons? I didn't see a sign outside that said: Unless you are ordering soup, no spoon will be provided. How is a smoothie not soup? It is like a fruit soup!"
This was definitely a get the manager over there and cause a scene type situation. Maybe it is a manners thing and the fear was that he would slurp the smoothie. But wouldn't there be a greater fear in someone slurping soup? I would think that the policy would be to not bring out the spoon unless requested. I seriously doubt that they only have 3 spoons back in the kitchen and they are rationing them out to just soup buyers...
We all sat there being whiny, sarcastic programmers making fun of the situation, but doing nothing about it. So, from now on, I resolve to make situations uncomfortable in the name of ridiculous policy...
Yesterday, we were dining at Carrabba's for lunch. My friend, M, orders a smoothie. It came with a straw. The waiter left for a few minutes and then came back for our orders. When he returned, M asked him for a spoon. The waiter's response was this: "We only provide spoons when you order soup." Then, he left and never brought us a spoon the whole time we were there. We ended up paying for our meal and giving him a decent tip. We also made excuses for the guy saying things like: "Well, he's new." Or "It's the company's policy."
At the time I actually mentioned that it would be nice to have someone with us who has a confrontational personality. Now, that I look back on it, I should have said this: "Are you really not going to bring him a spoon? What? Were we supposed to bring our own spoons? I didn't see a sign outside that said: Unless you are ordering soup, no spoon will be provided. How is a smoothie not soup? It is like a fruit soup!"
This was definitely a get the manager over there and cause a scene type situation. Maybe it is a manners thing and the fear was that he would slurp the smoothie. But wouldn't there be a greater fear in someone slurping soup? I would think that the policy would be to not bring out the spoon unless requested. I seriously doubt that they only have 3 spoons back in the kitchen and they are rationing them out to just soup buyers...
We all sat there being whiny, sarcastic programmers making fun of the situation, but doing nothing about it. So, from now on, I resolve to make situations uncomfortable in the name of ridiculous policy...
16 December 2007
You make the call!
In less than a week, I find out the gender of my first child. My wife wants a girl and I suppose I want a boy. I keep denying this wish, but I guess it is there, deep down. I think it is somewhat natural to want to have a child of your own gender so you can have some trace of identifiability. But perhaps there is a myth in thinking that there will actually be this link of understanding between the two of us. I have great nieces which help sway me to the female vote.
But, isn't there something to be said about teaming up against Mom in the cause of spilling food on our shirts? Won't it be better for us both to have innocent looks on our face when accused of the poor condition of the front of the toilet? We could shift the blame on each other and have an understanding that the vagueness of who is actually guilty matters little in comparison to the comraderie of having the same ailment. And won't it be great to have someone with the same "competitive spirit" to take games, puzzles and tv watching into the wee hours of the morning?
Yeah, I guess I do want a boy. It's what I know. And I think my wife wants a girl for the same reason. But I know that whatever, whoever our baby is, there will be a newness to it all that makes the experience joyful.
However, I suspect that being a boy is not the same as raising one, so I can say it is what I know, but I am a fool for making any such assumption.
So let me restate: I want a boy, because I am a boy and I think that sometimes I will be able to look into his eyes and know that he has crapped his pants, because I have been there. I feel safe with that.
But, isn't there something to be said about teaming up against Mom in the cause of spilling food on our shirts? Won't it be better for us both to have innocent looks on our face when accused of the poor condition of the front of the toilet? We could shift the blame on each other and have an understanding that the vagueness of who is actually guilty matters little in comparison to the comraderie of having the same ailment. And won't it be great to have someone with the same "competitive spirit" to take games, puzzles and tv watching into the wee hours of the morning?
Yeah, I guess I do want a boy. It's what I know. And I think my wife wants a girl for the same reason. But I know that whatever, whoever our baby is, there will be a newness to it all that makes the experience joyful.
However, I suspect that being a boy is not the same as raising one, so I can say it is what I know, but I am a fool for making any such assumption.
So let me restate: I want a boy, because I am a boy and I think that sometimes I will be able to look into his eyes and know that he has crapped his pants, because I have been there. I feel safe with that.
15 December 2007
Case Study Junkie
I just finished The Road Less Travelled by M Scott Peck. I think it is my first psychotherapy book. I took Psychology in college and I had a mythology class too, but this is the first time I have read something by someone who almost seemed to be professional. I want to say that he was completely professional, but I would need to read another psychotherapy book. Or at least 2 others by different authors before I could come back and say that this sounds genuine.
I do like this book, but I have a concern that it is "pop psych". That was a term a psychology friend of mine used the other day. So much of the book appeals to the general Christian public that I was concerned he was pandering a bit. And, maybe the reason the book is so popular is because of this notion. Much of it seemed familiar. I would definitely recommend it to people to read.
Peck goes into some cool ideas, like the fact that life is difficult and that people often shy away from difficult things. He explains love and what is and is not love. He goes into talking about how all people have religion, though they may not attend or think they are religious.
I think I am a "case study junkie". Whenever Peck would introduce someone as a patient, suddenly I would get really interested. I guess that is one thing I love in life, being able to assign someone a particular problem and then going through the process of having it be discovered, worked on, resolved, or not. I am almost like the kid who calls people names and suddenly a girl bows her head in shame because I accidentally got it right for once. There I am making the girl feel bad for having a problem so easily recognizable...
I think case studies are kind of like chick flicks. In this book, there was an attractive girl who grew up in a strict, Catholic background, who married early and suddenly had these panic attacks after she realized her gay husband did not want to have sex with her anymore. I realize that I am oversimplifying an oversimplification, but it works. It fits together in this neat bundle and there is this total chick flick reward. And we cannot argue, because we have not sat there through session after session of mundane problems.
When I was younger I used to do character analysis of the people around me. As I have gotten older, I realized that people are much more complicated than just what an analysis could cover. Usually my analysis only covered a half page. But it was all I knew about the person, so I could not really go into more detail. I had a lot of fun with that. It appears that these case studies are an extension of that. However, the ones mentioned in the book are more like the CSI version of people. The case study where the villain always admits it in the end. They are just too powerless against the forensics.
I think that is my major issue with the book and possibly any psychology book I read in the future. The kind of stuff that appeals to me directly are the unpredictable things, the real things. Like, a man has a habit of going to church each Tuesday and the doctor discovers that he is off 2 days in his thinking, but cannot adjust. The deviation is that he does not check his mail on Sunday. So even though there is this compulsion on so many levels and the case falls into this two day off problem, there is still a glitch in him which knows that the day is Sunday. Something like this would be used in a CSI episode to show that he is a fraud. The psychotherapy author would not include it in the book, because it does not fit with what he is trying to say. But here I am saying it is still there and we cannot explain it, but it is kind of cool, because it has no real place.
And perhaps people would expect me, if I was the author, to have an explanation for the mail thing, but I wouldn't, or wouldn't want to. The deviation is demonstrated. The people notice it and we are left to conclude nothing, except that it is there.
I do like this book, but I have a concern that it is "pop psych". That was a term a psychology friend of mine used the other day. So much of the book appeals to the general Christian public that I was concerned he was pandering a bit. And, maybe the reason the book is so popular is because of this notion. Much of it seemed familiar. I would definitely recommend it to people to read.
Peck goes into some cool ideas, like the fact that life is difficult and that people often shy away from difficult things. He explains love and what is and is not love. He goes into talking about how all people have religion, though they may not attend or think they are religious.
I think I am a "case study junkie". Whenever Peck would introduce someone as a patient, suddenly I would get really interested. I guess that is one thing I love in life, being able to assign someone a particular problem and then going through the process of having it be discovered, worked on, resolved, or not. I am almost like the kid who calls people names and suddenly a girl bows her head in shame because I accidentally got it right for once. There I am making the girl feel bad for having a problem so easily recognizable...
I think case studies are kind of like chick flicks. In this book, there was an attractive girl who grew up in a strict, Catholic background, who married early and suddenly had these panic attacks after she realized her gay husband did not want to have sex with her anymore. I realize that I am oversimplifying an oversimplification, but it works. It fits together in this neat bundle and there is this total chick flick reward. And we cannot argue, because we have not sat there through session after session of mundane problems.
When I was younger I used to do character analysis of the people around me. As I have gotten older, I realized that people are much more complicated than just what an analysis could cover. Usually my analysis only covered a half page. But it was all I knew about the person, so I could not really go into more detail. I had a lot of fun with that. It appears that these case studies are an extension of that. However, the ones mentioned in the book are more like the CSI version of people. The case study where the villain always admits it in the end. They are just too powerless against the forensics.
I think that is my major issue with the book and possibly any psychology book I read in the future. The kind of stuff that appeals to me directly are the unpredictable things, the real things. Like, a man has a habit of going to church each Tuesday and the doctor discovers that he is off 2 days in his thinking, but cannot adjust. The deviation is that he does not check his mail on Sunday. So even though there is this compulsion on so many levels and the case falls into this two day off problem, there is still a glitch in him which knows that the day is Sunday. Something like this would be used in a CSI episode to show that he is a fraud. The psychotherapy author would not include it in the book, because it does not fit with what he is trying to say. But here I am saying it is still there and we cannot explain it, but it is kind of cool, because it has no real place.
And perhaps people would expect me, if I was the author, to have an explanation for the mail thing, but I wouldn't, or wouldn't want to. The deviation is demonstrated. The people notice it and we are left to conclude nothing, except that it is there.
05 December 2007
The Student
The other day I was walking Forrest. We were passing this house from across the street and he started to whimper. I looked over there to see if there was a dog or a cat or something, but I did not see anything except for a couple of lawn animals. I thought for a second and it occurred to me that he was afraid of this polar bear looking thing.
I think many of us have this wish inside us that when our students are confronted with something they are frightened of or very unsure about that the sudden enlightenment of what the thing actually is will cause an Aha moment to occur. It would be at this point that the student would slap the hand to the forehead and say something like: "What was I thinking?"
So, I pulled Forrest over there hoping that when he met up with the polar bear, he would in fact realize his mistake and feel the dominance so necessary in our young canines today. We got closer and Forrest went right up to the beast and sniffed at it. I was feeling confident that my young Padowan learner was indeed feeling the light within when all of a sudden, Forrest jumps back right into my legs almost taking me out. He is a big dog and that is a ton of force coming all at once. It was as if the polar bear had actually lunged at him and Forrest was so scared that he just had to get away.
The fear was still there even though this was not a real animal by any means. I suppose it represents something very frightening to Forrest though. Looking at it, it is a lot smaller than a real polar bear and a little smaller than Forrest. But, it does almost seem to be in an attack mode. I guess when we see certain images in movies we are frightened. Or, when walking through a haunted house we will be afraid of things we know are not real. I know that having my lifesize pinatas in the house would scare me when I saw them out of the corner of my eye.
I am trying to make excuses for him, because this seems so ridiculous. He is way bigger than most of the dogs we come across. So why does he not have that swagger? Maybe I ought to buy one of those polar bears and leave it in the backyard with him. Then, he can show it who is boss. That would probably be a very weird day.
I think many of us have this wish inside us that when our students are confronted with something they are frightened of or very unsure about that the sudden enlightenment of what the thing actually is will cause an Aha moment to occur. It would be at this point that the student would slap the hand to the forehead and say something like: "What was I thinking?"
So, I pulled Forrest over there hoping that when he met up with the polar bear, he would in fact realize his mistake and feel the dominance so necessary in our young canines today. We got closer and Forrest went right up to the beast and sniffed at it. I was feeling confident that my young Padowan learner was indeed feeling the light within when all of a sudden, Forrest jumps back right into my legs almost taking me out. He is a big dog and that is a ton of force coming all at once. It was as if the polar bear had actually lunged at him and Forrest was so scared that he just had to get away.
The fear was still there even though this was not a real animal by any means. I suppose it represents something very frightening to Forrest though. Looking at it, it is a lot smaller than a real polar bear and a little smaller than Forrest. But, it does almost seem to be in an attack mode. I guess when we see certain images in movies we are frightened. Or, when walking through a haunted house we will be afraid of things we know are not real. I know that having my lifesize pinatas in the house would scare me when I saw them out of the corner of my eye.
I am trying to make excuses for him, because this seems so ridiculous. He is way bigger than most of the dogs we come across. So why does he not have that swagger? Maybe I ought to buy one of those polar bears and leave it in the backyard with him. Then, he can show it who is boss. That would probably be a very weird day.
02 December 2007
The Tree Party
We visited the Festival of Trees this year. I was not sure what to expect. I thought it would be outside and there would be ents guiding people about. I also thought the decorations would be solely on the trees and would not be creating a room theme all over the floor.
The idea is that people decorate a Christmas tree for a loved one who has died tragically of a disease or something else. I think they like to stick to the tragic theme even though it appeared that some people pictured there lived to ripe old ages. They decorate the tree with certain themes, presumably a theme related to the person who died. Like, if a man was into hunting giraffes, they would have some giraffe legs sticking out with a head on top. Or, if a child liked Disney (what child does not like Disney?), then the tree would have all sorts of Disney ornaments all over it. Then they sell or auction the trees to the rich. The proceeds go to Primary Children's Hospital, which is up in Salt Lake.
So, as I was in there, I had to say that every tree was amazing. Really, when it comes down to it, there are no ugly trees. Maybe a couple had colours which were not my favourite, but for the most part there was lots of creative energy in the place. Row upon row of trees. And then they had small trees and gingerbread houses and kids performing in costumes. It was quite an ordeal.
But, after looking at all these trees, I suppose I got into a mode of wanting to see something that was in fact, unique. There were a couple, but not many. For the most part, the trees all fit in. They were each overdone with as many repetitious decorations as they could muster. I was looking for the tree that spoke to me. I wanted there to be something that caused me to go Wow!
Now, can I just go in and criticize without doing anything myself? Of course not. It is not until we pick up our own swords and chop something in half that we can really call ourselves butcher, right? So, it is at this moment that I decide... Well, actually I decide that I could do something truly unique, but that would require some real effort and time and engineering skills.
The idea is that people decorate a Christmas tree for a loved one who has died tragically of a disease or something else. I think they like to stick to the tragic theme even though it appeared that some people pictured there lived to ripe old ages. They decorate the tree with certain themes, presumably a theme related to the person who died. Like, if a man was into hunting giraffes, they would have some giraffe legs sticking out with a head on top. Or, if a child liked Disney (what child does not like Disney?), then the tree would have all sorts of Disney ornaments all over it. Then they sell or auction the trees to the rich. The proceeds go to Primary Children's Hospital, which is up in Salt Lake.
So, as I was in there, I had to say that every tree was amazing. Really, when it comes down to it, there are no ugly trees. Maybe a couple had colours which were not my favourite, but for the most part there was lots of creative energy in the place. Row upon row of trees. And then they had small trees and gingerbread houses and kids performing in costumes. It was quite an ordeal.
But, after looking at all these trees, I suppose I got into a mode of wanting to see something that was in fact, unique. There were a couple, but not many. For the most part, the trees all fit in. They were each overdone with as many repetitious decorations as they could muster. I was looking for the tree that spoke to me. I wanted there to be something that caused me to go Wow!
Now, can I just go in and criticize without doing anything myself? Of course not. It is not until we pick up our own swords and chop something in half that we can really call ourselves butcher, right? So, it is at this moment that I decide... Well, actually I decide that I could do something truly unique, but that would require some real effort and time and engineering skills.
27 November 2007
Blind Boscoe
A legend from my childhood died this week. At 12 years old, I was introduced to the world of Heavy Metal. My cousin was 2 1/2 years older than me and always knew what was cool before me. So, what he had was what I wanted. He had Candy-O by the Cars and Freedom of Choice by Devo. So, it would only follow that when the heavy metal craze hit in the early eighties, C would be right on board, and I would be tagging along.
As I look back on it, I was not fortunate enough to own any of the so-called truly cool heavy metal bands of the day, because they were a little too centered around Satan. I cannot remember if this was my choice or my Dad's. Or, if it was the influence my Dad had on me to make that kind of choice. I may have requested Iron Maiden - Number of the Beast or Motley Crue - Shout at the Devil as a birthday present, but I know that I did request Quiet Riot - Metal Health and got it. What a great album. It was total poser heavy metal. Wannabe heavy metal. Almost as bad as Christian Rock... but not that bad.
There were a few heavy metal bands at the time who qualified to be listenable, because they did not subscribe to such blatantly satanic themes. Quiet Riot seemed to be the king of these groups opting for the spotlight of popdom with Cum on Feel the Noize, a song spelled in a way which suggests sex instead of satanic influence. Way better for kids! The other groups were Def Leppard and Twisted Sister. Twisted Sister was a major one-hit wonder. Def Leppard never seemed that interesting to me. I would probably like them more if I listened to them now.
Quiet Riot's lead singer, Kevin Dubrow, died yesterday. He was only 52. I wonder what kind of life he actually lived. I heard a quote of his one time about how he wanted to live a life of a quiet riot. I think it was on one of those 80's Has Been shows. It was funny in his videos from the early 80's, Kevin's hair was really thinning, but in the photo on the news he had really long, curly hair with no sign of aging at all. Did he honestly wear a wig all these years? That just does not seem like what a true rocker would do... So maybe he wasn't.
Quiet Riot was important to me if for no other reason than that they were there for those early years when I was trying to fit in to a world which was full of cross-dressing, over-the-top, screaming-their-heads-off, big hair dudes. And now I wonder why I wanted to be a part of that...
I blame my cousin.
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