Where have all the flowers gone?

Well, my plan to complete two embroidered flowers a day lasted exactly that: a day.  I don't know why I suddenly lost the urge to work on it.  Of course, it coincided with my going back to work, sitting in a wooden chair eight hours a day, ineffectually moving things around in the new classroom, and the urgent need to check my eyelids for cracks all day Saturday.  I will try again.  I won't even try to catch up - I'll just try to pick up where I stopped.  It's interesting that I thought the urge to start a project could be attributed to the effects of the Wellbutrin, but I've doubled the dose, and, if, anything, I'm as tired as ever.  Stamina is just a vocabulary word now.

I've mentioned this before, but I want this to go out with this blog-yawp:  no matter how low I have ever been, how dark and lonesome I have felt, I have always been able to look around, outside of myself, and find beauty and joy in nature.  Thank God for that. I'm allergic to absolutely everything outdoors, and I certainly have no plans to dig, plant, mow, harvest, or reap anytime soon, but, for some reason, nature, wild or cultivated, has to be close by.

Embarrassing confession - I've never read this novel. It's a cop-out to say I've seen the movie, but I'll say that I thought it was splendid and that Steven Spielberg and the cast were screwed by the academy:

I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it.... People think pleasing God is all God care about.  But any fool living in the world can see it always trying to please us back.  
                                                ~Alice Walker, The Color Purple, 1982

A few days have past, and it is now Monday, August 1. Today was back to school day for all teachers in Fayette County, and I finally saw all the mouth breathers and knuckle draggers already on staff. Every school system has them. They only exist to whip butts and win ball games, but, damn...Dr. Cedric G. absolutely lives up to the reputation that goes before him. He is the real deal. I'm not convinced some of his elementary principals have got any sense at all, but he seems to be placing good people as positions become available. They are waaaaay behind MCS in manipulating technology. If the any key doesn't work, most will be screwed because they just wait for someone else to make it work rather than figure it out themselves. There is a clear division between PC and Apple users, and I hope this doesn't end up having a big impact on what I can use to teach with. The building engineers delivered a PC tower, keyboard, and screen, but it doesn't have OS, so it is useless until that is loaded. The principal is going to be the technical expert for the school, so I hope he's not a grinch. I'm pretty sure that as long as a teacher can demonstrate proficiency, he'll try to get whatever is necessary.  Additionally, this system is so small, they can't divide total deductions by 20 (or 24) except for gross pay, so insurance comes out of the check on the 15th of the month and all other deductions come out of the check on the 28th of the month. Since I'll be getting more of a "check-lette," than the check I've become accustomed to, the real crunch will hit with the August 28th check. The pain. The pain.  I wish we could get a move on about repairing the house.  I have just got to get out from under this house note! One thing nice about going to school in the country, though, is that when you run out of parking places, all you have to do is hop the curb and start a new line in the grass. Overall, the day was very well organized and the breakout sessions were interesting, if not especially informative. Some were even motivational.  I'm really glad my principal has a high school background. He's not a group hug kind of guy and obviously believes that achievement comes through empowerment and understanding rather than rewarding the lowest possible expectations:  "here, have a piece of candy for sitting still for three seconds straight." 

And so, here we are at the beginning of another week.  I have survived, even if I haven't prevailed. I will consider the week a success when I have successfully unpacked and stowed my teacher's stuff (see George Carlin Talking about Stuff ).  It's so true. My life is my stuff. I've gotten so much better about it in the last ten years. I think that's why I have a decent handle on losing so much "stuff" in the other house. In the past, I have made a list of the "stuff" I didn't think I could do without, and that list is really not that long.  Everything on the list is stuff from the family - a china cabinet, a rocking chair, a bedroom suite (pronounced "suit" in the South), and a cedar chest and a couple of trunks.  The one item that I have acquired that I wouldn't want to leave would be the Japanese ink block print I purchased on eBay and had framed. Once I realized that there was no one to pass it on to who would remember the names of anyone else who used it, most of it became completely unimportant. I would just as soon have it all burned, along with all family pictures, at my death.  The idea that treasured family items should go to strangers is repellent to me. I would rather it just go away - especially the pictures.  I never realized how powerful that feeling was until I was in a framing store (for the Japanese ink block print) and looked at the walls which are (naturally) covered in paintings, pictures, frames, and paintings and pictures in frames. I can only remember one item on the wall - a young black woman on the occasion of her wedding. It looks like it was taken in the 1920's and her face is rather ordinary - even wearing her round, wire-rimmed spectacles for the photo. Her gown, her figure, and the setting under a large shade tree, however, turned a rather commonplace type of photo into a moment that could have been painted by Maxfield Parrish. Suddenly, she is a nymph in a woodland glade, and speckles and sprinkles of sunlight trickle through the leaf canopy to gently illuminate the entire photo.  I suppose I am not the only person who was struck by it - it was the only item in the store not for sale. At any rate, back to the point. WHY WAS SOMETHING THAT WONDERFUL NOT HANGING ON THE WALLS AT HOME? Somebody's home, anybody's home.  Why was that intimate, stunning moment captured in time and place not claimed by a loving family member? That's when I realized that that photo, despite its quality, was one of the most tragic and devastating artifacts I had ever seen - only strangers look at it now. Maybe in a few more generations it would not seem so bereft, but it is just too recent a piece not to grieve for the family that either no longer exists or no longer wants that picture.  That's when I decided it would be better to burn family photos of those special moments rather than have them get spotted from mildew in an attic or handled and made grubby in a flea market somewhere.  That's also when I climbed into the attic dug out every photo I could find (which was a lot) and spent more money that I had to frame and hang each of them. I love them all and I think they look wonderful - mismatched, imperfect, and utterly personal.

This will be a crazy week - I see Dr. Jolene B. tomorrow and I see city court judge in Oakland to sign my safe driving award Wednesday. Obviously, I will have very little time to prepare my "stuff" for the arrival of the children Thursday. Instead of losing my mind about it, I will deal with the critical items needed to start school - such as board markers and erasers, try to plan engaging and compelling lessons for Thursday and Friday, and just try to shove the rest of it into a safe corner that does not provide a safety hazard to small children. I'll get to it when I get to it!

I expect that by Thursday night, I will have enough insight to fill a few more bandwidths with my nonsensical ruminations (do not let this word make you think of ruminants, thank you very much). And so, as we leave beautiful Fayette County and its citizens (all 38,000 of them) for another day, I look forward to the 45 minute commute each way to think of what I want to say in this forum:

Data is not information, information is not knowledge, knowledge is not understanding, understanding is not wisdom.  ~Clifford Stoll, overeducated techno-geek, astronomer, glass blower, and wise-guy.

Two a days

The principal has been out of town and finally called me Monday.  I went to the school to see my room - it's the absolute last room facing the front of the campus and it is at the end of the hall. There are double doors to the outside next to my door, but they are for emergency exit only. The only way it could be better would be if it were closer to the bathroom (I have no idea where that is, by the way). I was even able to score a moving company to move me Wednesday morning, so I'll have all my junk in the room by the time the kids come. My desk looks like something discarded from the dump (one middle drawer and two side drawers only), so I'm going to keep an eye out for another one. There has got to be some left over from the Eisenhower administration somewhere.  I have passed a "used office furniture" store on Getwell a thousand times, and I guess I'll go by there - I just hope it's not a front for meth manufacture and sales. I have one big storage cabinet that looks like it was used for dodge ball practice, but it is big and has doors, which means I can put a lock on it.  I don't think most of the teachers are integrating much technology in the classroom, so rather than use a Frankenputer ("It doesn't have Windows, but you can get on the Internet"), I will bring my own laptop. That's just fine.  I do think there is a printer in the room.  I walked past the computer lab to the smell and sight of sawdust, and carpenters were building new shelves and modifications for the computer tables.  Sawdust everywhere and not a single computer was covered up.  One worker was trying to vacuum the tables with the hose from a canister vac: "You'd better get that up before the computer teacher sees that," says the principal. I'm going to try really hard not to butt in a lot, but I may have to suggest that they cover those computers with Hefty lawn bags every summer. Upon the advice of friend and co-owner of the brain, Shelta B., I went to the used, discounted, and discontinued office/hotel furniture showroom on Winchester.  I didn't find a desk, but I found a really nice book shelf.  I always need bookshelves. Bitches love bookshelves.

Better living through chemistry

I called Dr. Mel G. with a status report on how the Wellbutrin seems to be working.  I told him I really couldn't tell too big a difference,except I felt an urge to start a craft project for the first time in years.  I hadn't really thought of it until I mentioned it before, but it really is a big change to feel inspired to do anything except read, watch TV, or waste time on the Internet. He was pleased and told me to go ahead and increase to the standard adult dosage, but to beware of possible side effects like headaches and constipation. If half a dose of Wellbutrin makes me want to start and complete a project, I will gladly suck back Advil and Kaopectate to get the benefits of a full dose. I don't believe I've mentioned the project I have to urge to complete.  I want to embroider a set of pillowcases.  I think they are so sweet, and, if using a pre-stamped cross stitch pattern, pretty easy to complete so that ambition should not overpower ability.  I planned to take it easy and make it a fun and relaxing hobby, so I decided to embroider two flowers a day - no more, no less. Yep, two-a-days!  So far, I've got two flowers completed and two minutes to pick up the pillowcase I've started and complete the two flowers I should have done today (Tuesday).  I suppose tomorrow should be a four-a-day.  So, in order to stay with the plan, I will finish registration at 7 PM, come home from Fayette County, find dinner somewhere (notice, I did NOT say MAKE dinner), primp fingernails for new teacher orientation Thursday, and embroider four flowers.  I can and I will do it!  Because the Wellbutrin must be kicking in, I suppose.  Oh, yes.  The cost of embroidering poly/cotton white pillowcases is about five times more than just picking up a set of plain ones at WalMart.

Tioga Environmental came by the house on Rich Road, and was able to save me the $1700+ inspection fee that HESS wanted:  "Yep, there's mold all over. It needs fungicide, removal of debris, and demolition of all sheetrock."  They are writing the clean up protocol, contacting Serve Pro and Service Master, and coordinating the timing of the whole mess.  I really don't know whether furry furniture needs to come out first, or if someone needs to spray bleach all over the interior first, or whether the rats take priority. Thankfully, they will handle that.  I still don't have a clue about the costs involved.  I suppose it will fall into three categories: interior clean up, furniture restoration, and demolition. At this point, I think I'm going to try to go to Triumph Bank and try to get them to 1) pay off the existing mortgage, and 2) extend my equity line of credit by $30,000. If I can get the current rate I'm paying, it will be 1/2% below Prime, so I truly do not believe I could get a better rate from a medieval Christian banker (for non-history nerds, it's a lame joke based on the fact that medieval Christians did not practice money lending because it was considered usury and forbidden in the New Testament. Jews, who did not often read the New Testament, were not prohibited from money-lending. The result, therefore, is that Christians often were in debt to Jewish money lenders, another reason to revile and disparage them).  

Nuke LaLouche in the stretch

So, when I'm not writing this blog, watching TV, checking out the Cheezburger Network, or playing time-sucking Hidden Object Games on the computer, guess how I spend my time? House shopping online. I probably have looked at every property in Shelby and Fayette County. I don't have a dime in hand, but that's not stopping me. I've picked out three properties that I think are in my price range. Of course, I have fallen into the trap of establishing the goal without creating the steps for achieving that goal.  I hope that with a bit more time, treatment, and happy days, I can actually identify the steps and begin achieving them.  The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.  I think I'm three steps into the journey, but I don't think I've taken a backwards step in three weeks or so.  I won't gloat, though, because I know a thunderbolt will appear from nowhere to strike me with leprosy if I do.  This sentiment is courtesy of waaaaay too many years spent on the bench with superstitious baseball players. At the same time, I do not want to be like Nuke LaLouche in Bull Durham who was convinced he would pitch better if he wore a garter belt and breathed through his eyelids during games.  Somewhere, there's a middle ground between determinism and free will.

Thinking of Bull Durham reminds me of one of my favorite quotes, offered by Annie Savoy, and played by Susan Sarandon: "The world was made for people who were not cursed by self-awareness." 

I haven't quipped or quoted in a while. I suppose I need to get back to that...

Scattershot

This posting differs from my usual writing.  For the most part, I write everything at once and generally focus on a theme around which the remarks are directed.  I just cannot do it this time. Not only is this post taking several days to complete, but I cannot think of a single unifying theme, point of view, or even complaint around which all of this revolves. This one is just a bunch of unconnected stuff.

Old business:

I finally spoke to Betsy at the Health Department. Turns out, the federal dollars are for clean up of lead toxins only. I'm disappointed, but not surprised.  She referred me to an environmental services company called Tioga Environmental that sounds like just the ticket.  They are coming Friday to inspect before putting in a bid, but in addition to the environmental testing, they can (and will) coordinate with Service Master (or another clean up company) to get the project underway. I'm a sucker for people who sound nice and sympathetic.  I just hope that they and their work are as wonderful in person as they are over the phone.

Still no word from Dr. Owens at West Junior High.  I don't mind starting the year empty handed. I just dread trying to coordinate a move-in once school starts.  If Eisenhower had a choice between coordinating the moving of my baggage and launching the allied invasion of Europe again, he would probably go with the allied invasion. I don't mind teaching without my "stuff," but I suppose I'll just have to have the movers bring it in on a Saturday (if the building is open) or late one afternoon. I really, really hope someone is in the building.

New business:

Exciting discovery first! I usually do not have dream vacations that I think may be achievable, but now I think I have read about the  BEST.IDEA.EVER.  I think I can actually plan for this, save, and GO! It is sponsored by a group called  Watson Adventures who develop murder mystery scavenger hunt at fine art museums. They're in New York, Boston, and Chicago, and a few others, but those would be my top choices. Wowza! What a nerd. Don't care. You can have your Bahama Mamas on a beach or your crackling fire at a chalet in Aspen.  This is tops on my list.

I recently had an email exchange with my friend Alex(x). Not only do I treasure her friendship, her ideas, and her constant search to find more that Shakespeare's "beast, nothing more," but she has reared a wonderful daughter who is intellectually curious, (seemingly) comfortable around adults, and has only had a very mild transmogrification during her teen years. For the sake of coherence, EAB's posts will be in blue and Alex(x)'s posts will be in purple.

It began innocuously enough:

AOL headlines announced that all Borders bookstores would be closing in the next year. Spend your gift cards soon!  I'll posting this PSA on FB, too!

EAB

Not to change the subject, but . . .

I will be at trivia tomorrow night.  Not sure about Maggie, she has a bad cold, but she may be there.

It is very upsetting about the whole printed books vs. books online thing, have had long discussions with several people about this.  I think the dissolution/disappearance of printed matter in hand is bad.  The less people actively interact with the printed word (and I don't believe netsurfing is interacting, I'm talking about reading, seeing and hearing Shakespeare or looking up a recipe in a cookbook with notes your grandmother made) the less literate we will be as a society.  But maybe that is the idea, to be the enthralled drones/consumers of the products produced by the corporate overlords.  Got to buy the next shiny new thing.

If Book Traders goes out of business I shall be truly upset.

//rant

-Alex(x)

Knee-jerk rebuttal incoming:

How's that clay tablet and stylus working for you? 

I am one of the unrepentant "sell-outs" to the e-format. Since my books are cheaper, take up less room, and use only rechargeable energy rather than finite resources, I do not feel guilty in the least. I am able to read more books than ever, particularly because older books, classics, and books in the public domain are usually free.  I also have access to titles that would never appear in bookstores because their authors are considered too "midlist" to go to the expense of printing. They often self-publish, or are picked up by smaller publishing groups, which allows greater variety and selection in my readings as well as allows more writers and publishers to be employed. I also love the fact that my library can be toted in one small tablet, all at once. Imagine if the cost of college textbooks went from $85 to $15 each. I also have audiobooks, another format that gives me access to more books and more pleasure in the written and spoken word.  I don't see how a format that leads to MORE reading of a greater variety of works will lead to the decline of human intelligence and usher in an age of social disorder. X-Box is a greater threat to our collective brain power than e-books.

My biggest concern is my conspiracy theory prediction for the future of education is that teachers will become software loaders only, checking to insure that students have completed their "tablet assignments." I'm convinced that that is the reason Bill Gates has committed to much money to public education - to prove it is a failure and to introduce his new, Microsoft education plan, complete with onboard, unified curriculum and textbooks already loaded.  Screw old Socrates and his method of interactive education and having learners arrive at truth on their own.

I will always love books. The smell, the feel, and the heft of a book is unmatched for bringing me so much happiness so easily. E-books have their advantages and disadvantages and so do published books. Surely this isn't an issue of "either or." Can't we all just get along? Bookstores lost their charm for me when I found that I could find 30 copies of 2 titles rather than 2 copies of 30 titles. I would support tons of bookstores like Book Traders, but "big box" bookstores, while convenient for gift buying and hanging out while reading a book a don't plan to purchase, like everything in a market economy, must reevaluate and innovate the delivery of their product in order to make it more competitive. Sad, but that's the way our best-beloved economy works. 

Oh, and I guess I'll be there for trivia, too.

Yours in conformity and mindless dronedom,
EAB

Ok, fair enough.  I agree about the "big box" book retailers. But consider the following: 

1.   Do you have first edition releases on the Kindle?  And if so, do authors sign them?  Would there be auctions of rare e-books?
2. Would you read to your kid from an i-Pad?  Maggie had the cardboard books with the fur on them (babies are very tactile and learn through their senses) and the plastic books that went in the bath.  She also chewed and drew on all her books (as did I - all my children's books were covered in crayon -  trying to copy the letters and pictures).
3. With regard to coffee table books - would we leave i-Pads on our coffee tables?
4. When I walk through my bedroom I see Beekman's Guide to Dead Guys and Gals of Science (which Maggie used to love to read when she was younger) or the Tempest from high school . . .  which has the note to memorize Ariel's song.  Or my old copy of Midnight's Children which was my first contact with Salman Rushdie.  Not to get dramatic, but these 3-d things that I possess are part of my identity and remind me of who I am  and what I value.  I like to look at them, maybe because they make me feel superior - ?
5. And what about libraries?
6. And your point about schools - if everything is online, who will decide what kids learn? 

All I know is that I resent being forced to buy a 'gatekeeping' device to the written word, because some CEO has decided that it's time for them to marry another supermodel and purchase a new beach home.  And I think there will be those people who will buy the kindle and the e-reader and i-Pad because it looks cool to be using the gadget, not because they have an urge to read a free copy of Heart of Darkness.  They won't understand how it works (and I guess I will have to go with the program and buy one too); like monkeys with keypads, we will be blindly following a predetermined set of behaviors to maximize someone else's bottom line.  Because we won't understand or know about the software on the device we will not know who is monitoring what we are reading, who is storing up demographic data about us to to sell us more garbage, and who may even be monitoring the notes we make on our devices. 

The truth is out there!

(And - haha -  a 49-year old woman who wears capri pants, does Zumba, lives in Germantown and drives a Honda Odyssey - whoa!  such a rebel!  Helllllloooooo conformity.)

-Alex(x)  

To end my part of the discussion:  I agree with you entirely about the importance of the tactile power of books.  I have found, though, that I have lost too many people and things to associate my identity and happiness with a THING. My mother got mad at me years ago (8th grade or so) and actually picked up my boxed set of The Lord of the Rings and ripped the pages out of the books. There is no beating or physical abuse she could have handed out to me that was any more destructive than that act. , The power and allure of books is in my head, not gathering dust and mildew on a shelf somewhere. I couldn't care less about a first edition book, again, because I don't value it for its collectibility. I suppose that makes me a gourmand of books rather than a connoisseur.

Bookstores already track every purchase we make and publishers know to the exact penny how profitable books are and for the most part, publish according to "marketability" of a book at least as much as (or more) than literary merit. They also do not publish authors whom they do not believe will be profitable, regardless of their skill.  I still maintain that current publishing of paper-based books is far more restricting of our choices and attempts to guide our tastes than e-book publishing. My e-bookstore literally has a half million titles to choose from - there is no collection short of the Library of Congress that can hold that many works at once.

I think your point about libraries is probably the most valid - libraries are community treasure boxes, and even if I purchase more books than I borrow, I believe libraries should be supported and patronized. Most libraries are doing a great job of making their programs and resources change along with emerging technologies. In addition to maintaining collections of regular books and historical collections and resources specific to each community, libraries are making e-books and audio-books available for patrons.  I take advantage of both. What is missing in that plan, though, is the ACT of walking in the library, smelling that unique smell, and being completely overwhelmed in the presence of so much stuff to read and do and look at. I will never forget being introduced to the library, learning how to look up books, getting a library card, and going through the ritual of the returning  and the checking out of books. Powerful, happy memories - almost as solemn and just as important as voting on election day.

We cannot stifle invention and innovation, but we can adapt to those changes and learn how to implement new things in a positive and productive way. And teach our kids the same thing. I believe that both print and e-formats are valid and useful and I plan to continue to use them both.

By the way, curriculum for all subjects K-12 in public education has been fairly well standardized for almost 20 years. Believe me, textbook companies do not have 50 editions of each textbook, one for each state.  They write textbooks that correlate with the largest school districts in the country and the rest of the school systems choose from there. There are trends and eccentricities that vary by state (wince - Texas), but for the most part, any teacher anywhere in the US could go to any other city or town and pick up and keep teaching. For any subject, there are usually 5-8 textbooks available to choose from, all of which have been approved by a state committee that has to certify that the textbook meets the curriculum standards for the subject in that state.  In Tennessee, the textbook committee is comprised entirely of teachers, but the (in)famous Texas state textbook committee has many members who are appointed to the position in order to advance a political agenda. Thank God for Tennessee - who would have thought it?

EAB 

Gosh, didn't know that about your mother! 

First of all, I do not have a kindle or i-pad right now because I do not have the disposable income to buy one.  So I guess a good part of this is sour grapes!  I really do resent having to buy books and am trying to use the library and book re-sellers like Book Traders as much as possible.  Having more than one option and using local businesses to source my books means my reading preferences and actions are less likely to be tracked (not that I am reading pornography or anything, but still . . . ). 

I do agree that the digitization of printed material does make some authors and books more available to those people who can afford the e-reader.  But for those people who can't afford the reader, I believe the closing of Bookstar and Borders is not a good thing - those people will be even less exposed to reading material than they are now.  I have seen kids from White Station and East High School hanging around in Davis-Kidd and Bookstar reading magazines and anime and doing homework - though I know these stores were not set up to be babysitters, they are businesses. 

As far as the 'thing' of a book, my memory is not nearly as good as yours - I have to have the book sitting in front of me to remember anything about it.  Also, I do not communicate with my biological father but I do have books he has given me and my mother.  So they are significant to me.  And Bob's father left a big library of books that I would like to have for its sentimental value. 

I was lucky enough to grow up in a house where we all read together even if it was in different rooms of the house.  My aunt was a voracious reader and she would always discuss books with me  . . . and Bob does the same.  It worries me that the digitization of books means that the act of reading together in a library or bookstore will disappear.  Kids will not see it in action unless it is forced on them in school.

Publish whatever you want!  I had to re-load my computer email so I lost the address of your blog.  I haven't looked at it in a while. 

I've enjoyed this discussion too! 

-A 

How lucky am I to have a friend who is able to debate an issue without allowing it to become personal, acknowledges good points scored by the "opposing side," and then agrees that it was a fascinating discussion?  What ever happened when people participated in a debate, each one supporting a certain point of view, but each hoping that the discussion would lead to a mutual advancement of understanding, and, perhaps, an agreement?  Isn't that the way it is supposed to happen?  

So, that was the sublime part of that day.  The ridiculous part of the day came about as came about as one of those unfortunate times when we fall victim to absolute truth in advertising.

Once again, I drove to Somerville. This time I was timing the drive to Fayette Ware High School, where the new teacher orientation will take place. It was dinner time, so I pulled in to the Woodbridge General Store on the courthouse square (Somerville is the county seat), lured by the hand-lettered sign in the window: "Best burgers in town."Here's where the truth in advertising comes in. I didn't catch the fact that it failed to say, "Best hamburgers in town."  Yep, according to law, it only has to be 100% beef if it is called a

Haggis Burger (no, really)

hamburger. Don't get the Pooh Burger. It was described as being dressed with honey, so I thought it was a cute name and decided to try it out. Take my advice: DON'T. The hockey-puck formed meat and meat-by product and god-knows-what-else that was the center of attention brought back memories of school lunches, and a deep suspicion that if there was truly truth in advertising, I was probably looking at a haggis-burger. The menus live on the table with the customers, so I immediately grabbed up one and re-examined the descriptions. Yes, indeedy, it was entirely my fault.  There was not a single product under the heading of "burgers" that stated or implied that there was 100% beef in any of the sandwiches being served. Live and learn. I suppose I helped a few soybean farmers and the saltine industry that day.

I got an interesting vibe in there, too. Dr. Owens said during my interview that Fayette County was still fighting the Civil War - from both sides.  I understood what he meant and was not surprised, really. I really, really understood, though, when I looked around the General store after the Pooh experience and listened to customers and staff as they greeted one another and caught up with news. I realized that the Woodbridge General Store does not serve a general clientele.  It is very friendly, but I don't think anyone of color has been through the front doors since it actually was a general store. At least there were no pickaninny dolls or unfortunate signs that proclaim, "Forget? Hell!"  I have seen those in stores. Who on this earth thinks any of that stuff is cute?

Thursday was a guilty pleasure. I drove to Oxford, MS. I always try to make a strategic strike at the Bottletree Bakery. If I lived on Mars, I would make a trip back to Earth just to go to the Bottletree Bakery. Even on this blog, I will not admit to what I purchased and how much I paid for it. Let's just leave it at, "Too much." I went to City Grocery, and for the first time in all the years I've been making day trips, made the investment in the shrimp and grits. I've had the City Grocery recipe for ages and have never made it, so that taste was my first experience. I suspect there will be future trips to City Grocery for shrimp and grits, if not in the near future, at least sometime. Maybe that will be my "unofficial" Thanksgiving meal. And Christmas meal.

I guess I'm caught up for now. I hear an espresso chocolate peanut butter cheesecake with toasted almond crust calling my name.

Hurry up and wait

So went today's events.

I called the Health Department number (finally) about the house.  Betsy did not return the call, so I will call again tomorrow. If I get voice mail again, I will try to get a live person to find out if Betsy is even in the office this week. So much for being so proud of getting that done. The project is still waiting.

I waited for three hours to get the car fixed.  The nasty little hobbitses in the service department tried to get away with only charging the battery. It still failed, so it was another two hours to confirm through an official diagnostic that it was a failed battery, still under warranty, replace the thing, and send me on my way. At least they didn't charge me for scanning the keypad for the entry code.  Luckily, it's easy to remember. I'm going to keep a spare key in the car, so I can let myself in and then still drive away if I need to. If nasty little hobbitses had sent me on my way with that dud battery after I was stranded all weekend, had to ask for a jump three different times, then drove 30 miles on a warranty issue, there would have been humiliations galore for nasty little hobbitses when and if the car failed again. 

I received a(nother) letter from Monica M. at MCS rather than the phone call I requested. This letter is a duplicate of the one I already have and still does not explain whether or not I can just pay a single monthly premium until the FCS plan kicks in. Of course, no one has called to let me know that my test scores and transcripts have been copied and that I can pick them up. I'm going by tomorrow anyways, to deal with insurance, so I may as well stop by that office as well. There is nothing short of a tidal wave (when did it become officially a tsunami?) that will soothe my disgruntlement at MCS. It must be highly localized with 100% clearing out of the offices at 2597 Avery. Of those who are not swept away entirely, the remainder will lose their memories, their cell phones with speed dials, and be required to work as teacher assistants to replace the ones they laid off in grades KK-3 two years ago.  See, when I'm Queen of the World, there will be Absolute Justice with Beneficence. Society will be much improved with the addition of hands-on practitioners and the loss of administrative avoirdupois. Then I shall be gruntled.

I received my social security card (another reason to ride in the car to Somerville!) and, I suppose, the balance of my salary from MCS ($8,000+). Of course, there was no explanatory letter telling me to expect the check, but since the fiscal year ends June 30, and it is now the middle of July, I assume they have cleared all their accounts payable.  I'll email Alex(y) to see if it is likely.  It also means that I will have no income until September 15, so I must be careful!  I expected the social security card to take four to six weeks, so the wait for that was much less than expected.

I waited a week for the new laptop keyboard to come in, and I took it in at 5:15 today. I expected it to spend the night at the store and then I thought I would get a call to pick it up tomorrow afternoon. Apparently, the American work ethic has not been adopted by the Asian owners of the store, because the technician replaced the keyboard, called, and had me pick up the laptop within an hour.  That was a hurry up and don't wait. The keyboard is great. If anything, it's rather softer and smoother than the other one, so I can gimp along at 40 WPM quite nicely, thanks.

I called West Junior High four times today. I don't think anyone is in the office - ever. I have avoided calling the principal, but I just have to do it. I'm going to wait until 7:30 - surely, that is late enough to avoid dinner and early enough before bedtime. Impossible to tell that fifteen minutes has just gone by. I have called Dr. Owens and I will have to wait for him to call me back. Hurry up!

So far, I cannot tell that the Wellbutrin has added anything.  I was already excited about the prospect of the new job, so it hasn't perked me up for that. I also had a roiling, wrenching, lurching, lumbering skew to my innards when I called the Health Department and later went by the Rich Road house to get the mail, so it has not helped to relieve my anxiety about that.

>Birdwalk alert:  it's so nice to have a fully functional keyboard again. I had gotten used to punching the empty void for the period, but was always awkward about the X. It's nice to have it back again. I really didn't notice until I wrote "anxiety."<

Must remind friends that The Misfits is on Hulu. It is only up to week six of season one, so old-timers won't be interested, but it's still better than watching it through YouTube. I love European sensibilities - rampant nudity, sexuality, innuendo, and profanity, but the classical prohibition against seeing death take place still seems to be in place. I like it like that. Seeing the before and after is good enough without having to see the pink mist, too.

So, I wait. I wait for phone calls to be returned and I wait for paperwork to be completed with MCS. I can wait. I do it very well.

I need to practice pasting in photos appropriate to the day's events.

MCS Administrative Staff Awaiting Rescue by Sympathetic Well-Wishers

Her Majesty proclaims, "It's a start."

Merely a small bump in the road

"Thou art mortal. Thou art mortal."

Never forget this warning. Just in case you do, the battery of your new-to-you car will turn out to be a dud and you have to sit at home until Monday and beg a jump in order to start the car to get to Homer Skelton Ford. To make the reminder just a bit more pointed, Homer's Ford dealership is in Millington - not even close to the usual pathways.  I went outside late Saturday afternoon to get some Chinese dinner (yes, Formosa's hot and sour soup will be served at the banquet tables in heaven, which are sit-down and not buffet style). There seemed to be enough of a spark getting to the engine, but not enough ooomph (or is that ooooohms) in the battery to get the motor to turn over. Fortunately, the neighbor down the street was gracious to a stranger who came knocking and asking for a jump. I have my own jumper cables, so it really only took a minute. I thought that would solve the problem, but when I left Formosa, the car was dead again, and I repeated the begging formula, choosing a man with two young daughters (coming out of the restaurant with takeout) who looked as if they would be really, really impressed to see their daddy do something to fix a car. Another minute passed and I was on my way - to Homer Skelton's Used Car Auto-Plex. They were very nice and suggested I take the car to Homer's Ford dealership and get it fixed (no charge - it's still under warranty). I also found out that one of the salesmen actually knows something about the business and he found the owner's manual and other booklets in a side panel in the back of the cargo area. I had hoped the keypad entry code would be printed somewhere in the book, but it only says to take it to the dealership. I'm hoping that I'll be able to get the code without the usual $30 fee. Puh-leeze!

I watched some of The Voice - I liked the audition parts, but I'm going to follow Amber's advice and skip ahead to the final eight. I have Venture Brothers to go. No Animaniacs are available free of charge. Of course not - they are owned by Steven Spielberg. I also found Liberty's Kids on YouTube, so I downloaded several episodes to use in class, if needed. They are part of a series developed for PBS Kids and are really wonderful. It's easy to decry modern animation and low quality stories for children, but everything I've seen for PBS Kids is superb. Of course, there's nothing like Jonny Quest today, which, for all its political incorrectness, had Jonny and Hadji flying all over the world, investigating historical mysteries, hidden treasures, and Master Criminals. Wow, those were the days of great kids' shows.

>This really isn't a birdwalk; it's more of a segue - the Jonny Quest reference is the obvious link<
Facebook has a lot of surveys and stupid participation games that go around, but one day, a post came along that told the reader to make a list of the fifteen fictional characters that had been the most influential. I did it, as a lark, thinking how fun it would be. Surprisingly, it was one of the most powerful and revealing exercises I have ever been through to have an insight into my own beliefs, perceptions and views of the world. I've read it over and over, wondering what, if anything, I should change, and I always come away from it without changing a thing. It is something that emerged, like Athena, full grown from the parent, and I don't think I need to adjust or explain anything more about it.  Here is the assignment in its entirety:

Fifteen fictional characters (television, films, plays, books) who've influenced you and/or that will always stick with you. List the first fifteen you can recall in no more than fifteen minutes. Tag at least fifteen friends, including me, because I'm interested in seeing what characters my friends choose. (To do this, go to your Notes tab on your profile page, paste rules in a new note, cast your fifteen picks, and tag people in the note.)

1. Frankenstein's creature - is the monster more human than his creator?  Nature or nurture?
2. Satan in Paradise Lost (fictional?) - "Better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven?"  Deep thoughts.  The ability to see from "The Other's" point of view.
3. Wile E. Coyote - never, never, never give up.
4. Smaug - the red-gold dragon from The Hobbit.  I love how Tolkein defines the character so deeply. They are consumed by the seduction of power and accumulated wealth.  For the first time a character, and not some one-dimensional atavistic apparition of pagan evil.
5. Lady Macbeth - a wife with all the talent and ambition her husband lacks and she has to sit in the backseat.
6. Batman - no super powers,  just grit and hardware.
7. Julia Ellen and Louise - sisters from Six of One.  The only book for which I read the last page and turned back to page one. Weeping and laughing simultaneously.
8. Gilgamesh - the search for immortality only to find it lives after us in our works.  The first and still the greatest theme to describe the search for civilization and grandeur and to banish the wilderness and our lack of control over fortune.  We can't do it.
9. Scarlett O'Hara - not PC, I know, but she finally figures it out in the end.
10. Mary Kate Danaher from The Quiet Man.  Most don't get it, but I do.  All she had of her life, tradition, and memories of the women in her family were those stupid things.  It wasn't the things.  It was what they represented.  I also love the crazy passion:  "I can, I will, and I do!"  "Two women in the house, and one of them a redhead."
11. Nick Carraway, the narrator from The Great Gatsby - always on the outside looking in. Apart, not a part.
12. TIE - Eleanor of Aquitaine, played by Katharine Hepburn in The Lion in Winter and Peter O'Toole, Henry II. This started my passion for historical fiction, and for all their overacting, I suspect that they were very close to the real thing.
13. Jonny Quest - I agree with Alex.  You're never too young to get involved in ground breaking scientific research, archaeology, international spycraft, and world travel. AND you get your own secret service agent to boot! Get rid of that idiot dog, though.
14. Granny Weatherwax, my HERO.  The crone witch of the woods who is never afraid, because she knows that she's the scariest thing in the woods.  Thank you, Terry Pratchett, for Discworld.  I want to grow up to be the wise woman in the woods.
15. Black Beauty - be kind and gentle to animals. If we choose to bring them into our lives, we take on the obligation for their care and well-being, not just to bend them to our service.

I know I will meet many, many more fictional characters in the future, and I look forward to the upcoming reads, but the challenge will be to become worthy of toppling any of these characters listed.  Seeing my entry for Granny Weatherwax reminds me of a comment I made to a former colleague about aspiring to be the wise woman in the woods. He thought it was an awful idea. Nope, not wealth, not beauty, but I will concede my true ambition is to become Queen of the Universe, Unrivaled in Power and Beneficence. Being the wise woman in the woods is just a tiny bit more achievable. I still think that there would be nothing greater than having the gifts of wisdom and healing. Cursing someone to turn into a pile of maggot-ridden hyena leftovers is just a perk. Maybe with a tinier bit less anger, I could make someone's toenails fall off and waste the artistry of the pedicurist.

The day is over and, despite the minor setback, I have not reverted to Robert Burns "wee, sleekit, cowrin', tim'rous beastie." (well, I'll never be wee for Robert Burns or anyone else). Frankly, when health, home, money, life, and livelihood have seemed threatened lately, cooling my heels for a day and a half and not having it cost money to get the problem fixed doesn't seem like much of a bother.

L'chayim, y'all.

Is that the headlight from an oncoming train?

Today was a good day at the end of a pretty good week.  Good because I didn't snivel and crumple in helpless frustration once this week and pretty good because I have addressed most pending issues, but not all.  I'm going to admit to the sins first and move on.  I can't take action until Monday, so, in the words of Scarlett (all together, now!) "I'll think about that tomorrow."  I believe those words have saved my life this summer.  If I had not made the decision to compartmentalize the issue of the house, I think it would have been even worse and the likelihood of healing the sick would have become the dilemma of raising the dead - and no Miracle Max in sight. Now that most other issues seem to be ginning along, I absolutely MUST call Monday about seeking funding for house repair.  Also, I cannot get to Oakland early enough to catch anyone at West.  I have Dr. Owens cell phone number and  I have to call to find out when he (or someone) will be there.  Okay, confession is over. Deal with it Monday.

Accomplishments this week:  selling the new car for a satisfactory used car, making all necessary requests for paperwork, and turning in all necessary paperwork to expedite employment with Fayette County Schools. No surprise, MCS has yet to have a staff member return a phone call about extending insurance benefits for a month or allowing me to get copies of my test scores and transcripts.  I paid a call, left messages, and wrote reminders, but no one has called yet with useful news or told me when to pick up my documents.  Apparently, toxins from intricate pedicures impair the ability to communicate with anyone except those on speed dial. No thanks, I don't believe I would like a saucer of milk with that catty remark.

The only unpleasantness was the smell of the smoldering ruins of my pride, self-respect, and civic virtue when I allowed myself to be fingerprinted for my new job.  I understand why it is done. I believe the safety and security of children is sacrosanct.  I do not believe, nor will I ever believe, though, that anyone's individual rights and protections should be sacrificed to the majority opinion. I will allow it to happen, though, despite private complaints and misgivings, because no one is coming for me.  Pastor Martin Niemoeller is rolling in his grave, God rest his soul: 

First they came for the communists,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a communist.

 Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a Jew.

Then they came for me
and there was no one left to speak out for me.

I did it for a job.  I am not a felon, a bail jumper, a pedophile, a drunkard, junkie, or "deviated prevert."  I am certain, nonetheless, that there will come a day when secular humanists are targeted, and I just hope that someone will have had to courage to stand up for me before that time.  The quote is the bedrock of my personal philosophy.  As a teacher, I believe this is the most important precept I can communicate to my students. I couldn't care less if they know that Lincoln didn't really free any slaves. I am a failure, however, as a teacher and a "human bean" if my students do not take this lesson with them and remember it forever.  When the evil building engineer threw away my 25 years of teaching memorabilia (may a weeping boil on his nose never heal), this was the only poster that survived. If I were to lose everything again every year, and only one thing could be preserved, this would be my choice, year after year.

Okay, that was the week that was. Today was a really good day. It began with a visit to Dr. Mel G. (not to be confused with the Spice Girl or the drunken bigot actor).  He is a psychiatrist, and despite his being recommended by my counselor, Dr. Jolene B. (not to be confused with the subject of a very fine Dolly Parton song), I was certain he would take notes while staring fixedly at his computer, stick a prescription in my hand and send me on my way. My first reassurance was seeing the bust of Sigmund Freud. Dr G. may have put it up there as an homage to the father of psychoanalysis, but I hoped that any psychiatrist who still announced his affiliation to Freud might actually interact with and maybe even make comments to his patient.  The first thing he did was to grab his notes, plop them on a lap desk and swivel around to me. I was thrilled and even remarked how relieved I was. He said he thought that looking at people was a pretty important part of the process, so he tried to do it as much as possible. He did me the honor of speaking as if I were capable of understanding erudite, technical language, so my entire fortification of preemptive resentment towards doctors who either condescend or gloss over issues was washed away in the first five minutes and we were able to proceed immediately to meaningful discussion.  Bottom line:  he agreed with Dr. Jolene B. that Paxil is probably not good enough if it is only taking off the worst of the bottoming out. He observed that it is not designed for treatment of issues relating to lack of well-being, apathy, or unhappiness, and believes that I will do very well with a treatment of Wellbutrin, designed specifically to promote the production of norepinephrine and dopamine - specifically associated with a sense of happiness and well being.  I can only imagine what it would feel like to wake up happy. If I can achieve that, it will be the emotional equivalent to being cured of paralysis.  I do not want to anticipate "cure." I will be thrilled with "significant improvement." I even was told to call within ten days or so with a sit-rep. Whoa, you mean I don't have to wait until the next appointment?  He made it clear that he was always accessible and that all phone calls would be answered either by a staff member or an answering service that could reach him immediately, if needed. I hope I never have to make that phone call, but it is reassuring to know that he values personalized care.  I don't care what other faults Dr. Ehud K may have (never to be confused with another living soul), but personalized, honest, and forceful care was a hallmark of his practice, and I don't think I will ever be satisfied with any other primary care doctor again.  He spoiled me and every patient he had with that type of care.  If he is giving that same level of intense personal interest to the veterans he is treating now, I will try to be mindful of the fact that they truly deserve it (no less than I do!) and try not to be so resentful that he no longer is in private practice. I'm still not happy with my new internist and I'm starting to ponder the efficacy of my cardiologist, considering how he/his office dropped the ball over the whole pacemaker issue, but I'll do the Scarlett thing for now.

That only covers the first half of today!  The rest of my good day was spent with my friend AJG and her daughter AJG.  How Amber is able to nurture her friendships over time and distance is a miracle.  She is the only person I know who not only has retained her friends from childhood, school, several jobs, and multiple cities, but she maintains frequent contact with us all.  Oh, Amber, you are so very gifted and Amelia is so very lucky to have you. Every minute with you will be filled with enrichment and devilish good fun. I think Amelia inherited that devil, though, because at age almost-one, she is already trying to defy her mother and has developed a repertoire of sneaky moves, and, better yet, "distress squeals" that she trots out as she thinks fit. Teaching high school is a very fine preparation for recognizing and dealing with narcissistic, manipulative, and dramatic females, however, and I am certain that the behavior that is rather cute at age one will be extinguished by the time she is a teenager, when it is not so cute.  I hope. I hope. I hope.

>Birdwalk alert<
As I was writing about Miracle Max earlier, I was trying to remember if the Resurrection Pill was chocolate or candy coated.  On a separate web-tab, I did a search and ended up on a t-shirt site (Think Geek:  Stuff for Smart Masses) and then I clicked on "pop culture" t-shirts and I ended up with "The Guild of Calamitous Intent." One wiki search later, and I found one of the funniest threads for following up I've ever read and I hope I can find back episodes of The Venture Brothers. I know my friend Alex(y) probably has them all taped, but I would like to find it on my computer. If it is as funny as Terry Pratchett's concept of Ankh Morpork's guild system (The Assassins' Guild and The Seamstresses' Guild (aka The Ladies of Negotiable Virtue)), it can only be good.

>Back to topic<
At any rate, every conversation with Amber is funny, silly, sad, serious, frivolous, and profound. Would that everyone could maintain that balance so well. When I see her I wonder what van Gogh would have created if Prozac had been available in his time. I believe that truly gifted people are "extrasensory" to the extent that they have an element of hypersensitivity that makes them extraordinary in their fields, but outside of that, most of the world is unintelligible and unmanageable for them. When they are in their niche, the world makes sense and the universe sings in harmony, but outside of that realm, they are as lost as children in a strange city.  Think Michael Jackson (think van Gogh). I write this about Amber knowing she reads this blog. She is proof that fusion reaction is possible somewhere other than on the sun. To follow the metaphor - sustainability is the issue. I admire her so much and I hope she can continue to shine with brilliance without burning out. So continues my admiration of the artist.

Can you tell that being with Amber is a bunch of fun for me? I left her cutting out felt eyeballs for Yo Gabba Gabba! t-shirts and talking with her in-laws about painting decorations for Amelia's first birthday party.

The end of the day brought a meal of everything bagels (warmed, not toasted) and fresh tomatoes dressed with Asian Sesame dressing. Yum. If not the healthiest meal in the world, it was fresh and wholesome.  The tomatoes were acceptable, but not exceptional. Finding a good tomato has become the Grail Quest of several people I know, and we all share comments and observations about each batch we try.  So far, we are still seeking this year's best to present to the Fisher King, if we don't eat them all first.

I still have a considerable amount of computer mind-suck time ahead to look forward to. Not only will I be looking up Venture Brothers stuff, I will be looking at back episodes of The Voice, on Amber's recommendation, and trying to find Animaniacs episodes and a PBS Kids' series about the American Revolution. I'm not sure if I have the will to wade through recent episodes of Saturday Night Live for Debbie Downer, again, based on Amber's recommendation, but I will try to follow on Twitter some of the comedians she mentioned. I realized only today that I don't have to comment; I can just follow. That sounds really, really compelling.

Not only do I feel better physically, but I am now able to look outward and observe others now. I get sick of introspection. I'm not nearly as interesting as other people!

Good night and have a pleasant tomorrow.

Losing my momentum

Apparently, when I'm not swimming in misery, self-doubt, and fixations of my imminent demise, I do not feel the compulsion to write.  Is that a good or bad thing?

In an attempt to cut back on spending and after several days of internal debate and discussion with friends, I decided it was a good idea to trade away my 2011 vehicle with the $453 note for a 2009 model with a $220 note.  I'm very happy with the car, but it needs detailing - small stuff.  Six months is just too long to go without a Ford in the driveway.  I loved the Highlander, but this Escape exactly fits.  I wish I had been the one to break it in, but that's okay.  After 10 miles, it already feels more comfortable that the old one.  It will probably get only slightly better gas mileage, but the savings on the note will be tremendous.  I also will get a refund on the extended warranty, service, and gap insurance from Toyota - a check in the mail - so I can have a bit more liquidity to deal with the house. When I deal with the house.

I have been prompt and timely on every other devastating matter except the house.  I wonder why?  I think it's knowing exactly the extent of how bad it is going to be has been so terrifying, I'm continuing to defer the bad news, knowing it will only get worse to wait.  I feel that I have dealt with all of the other disasters, so I have been circling around this one. I allowed myself to wait until after the pacemaker surgery and now I have no excuse.  DO IT. DO IT. DO IT. Positive reinforcement: add a goodie (if I make the call about the house and organize everything, then I get to ___...good topic for discussion with Dr. Bailey). Negative reinforcement:  remove a baddie (if I make the call about the house and organize everything, then I DON'T have to ___...think about it any more?  That's about all I can think of). Punishment: if I don't make a call about the house and organize everything, then I ____... continue to think about it, dream about it, talk about it, and generally make my life a living hell.)  Clearly, I'm choosing punishment - why?  Discussion topic.

Good news:  Blue Cross of TN (PPO Preferred S Network) not only has all of my doctors in network, but allows bariatric surgery.  Several hoops to jump through, but very simple, comparatively.  The funniest hoop is that I have to participate in a doctor-supervised diet plan for at least six months prior to surgery. If I do NOT lose 10% of my weight, I qualify for surgery.  I think I can avoid losing weight for six months.  It will be a chore, but I will slog on and do my best. Idiots.

I blogged for an hour. Then my computer crashed. The auto-save saved this much and lost the whole section about crime, punishment, and how things will change when I'm Queen of the World.  Probably a far, far better thing.  I know a message from the ether when I see it. I'll shut up now.