In Memorium

For KJG and CJC.

Suicide is Painless, Johnny Mandel and Mike Altman
Just Like Suicide (acoustic), Soundgarden
Suicide, T. Pain
The Only Difference Between Martyrdom And Suicide Is Press Coverage, Panic at the Disco
Beautiful Girls, Sean Kingston
Country Death Song, Violent Femmes
We Both Go Down Together, The Decembrists
John Allyn Smith Sails, Okkervil River
Into the Ocean, Blue October
Swandive, Ani DiFranco
Who's Afraid (Of the Art of Noise), The Art of Noise
Love is Suicide, Smashing Pumpkins
Suicide, Kamelancien
Suicides Underground, Air
Goodbye Baby Baby Goodbye, Van Morrison
The Will to Live, Ben Harper

Climbing

Went out to Pinnacles National Monument today. I went with a woman I met at my new teacher days earlier in the summer. She's not as strong a hiker as I am (which isn't saying much). Still, she's been dragging me out, so it's good.

Pinnacles is beautiful. And it was community day, so there were "tables", including a rock climbing group (they take school groups out). So I got some free rock climbing in. They only had a couple of pitches up, and I'm out of shape, but it was fun. I certainly could have used my rock shoes. But all my training came back. And the guides were both from Oregon, so I could wow them with my alpine experience.

I miss being on the rock.

I'm Getting Too Good at This

I have sent too many condolence letters in my still rather short life -- and far too many for people who passed away before they finished living a long, productive life. And it hasn't even been my association with mountain climbing that has precipitated my close association with death.

I found out that my mentor's wife died unexpectedly yesterday. I have no more information than that, but it makes me heartsick. I did not know her well at all, but I do know her husband rather well -- I spent a year in his classroom.

You might have heard me talk about him as The Three-Time Winner of the CT of the Year Award (all three awards were from the same year), the God of Social Studies, the God of all Things Teaching, or simply My Idol. When I subbed in his classroom last year and the students said I was just like him, I got all twitterpated. Ditto when my own students (at the same school, but different class) told me I was "too much" like him. In my book, there is no "too much" when it comes to this man. He is an excellent teacher, both to his high school students and his student teachers. He is patient, kind, thoughtful, and intelligent. He also plays a mean game of shuffleboard.

I know little of his personal life -- mostly just things that I've gleaned from being around his classroom. They had Frisbees printed up for their wedding favors (there is one hanging in his room). The top hat in his room is also from his wedding: he and his groomsmen found them at a store across the street and wore them to the reception (I overheard him tell the story to a student once). They would ride their bikes to Beaverton to see family. They have a daughter who is an adorable, vibrant -- her picture is always his desktop at work. And from those clues, I know that they had a wonderful, fun life together. I can tell how right they were for each other. It breaks my heart to think about him dealing with such a stupendous loss.

And I can't help but also think of the other people I know who have lost their spouses. Everybody dies. I know that. But that fact does little to ease the pain that comes from the separation of people who love each other.

It Was a Long Day...

...Living in the valley.

It's closer to the truth to say that it's been a long week (and I do realize it isn't even quite Friday yet). Fist-fights in class, candy theft, intolerant adults... Just part and parcel of my new life. Really, the adults in this community seem to be as closed-minded and bigoted as the children -- hmm, I wonder wehre the kids get it from. I guess I've spoiled myself by living in liberal centers of conservative states (the Chapel Hill Zoo, Weird Portland). I always thought Californians were liberal, but I am quickly learning that that is far from a true stereotype.

Also, my curriculum isn't what I would like it to be, so I'm having difficulty writing a good test that also tests only what I've taught. My own fault, this, but a problem none-the-less.

Setting the World on Fire ...

... One broken iron at a time.

Yup. Almost set fire to my house yesterday morning. I knew my iron was on the fritz because sometimes it wouldn't work. I meant to get a new one, but I kept on forgetting. Let's just say that after the sparking and burning smell, I got a new iron last night.

And it's a nice one. It has this super-steam setting thing that's pretty cool. I can't wait to iron some cotton for the next quilt!

Just Passing Through

I'm really only here to shut down my computer, but I'm doing so because my favoritest movie (of the past few years) in on HBO. Also happens to be my most-recently favorite book. OK, no more making you guess, it's Atonement. I read the book last summer when I begged the woman at Powell's to recommend a book that had plot and characters -- after 15 months of grad school, I needed a story already. She told me about Atonement, although feared it would be too depressing for me. I told her I didn't care as long as it had a plot.

I started reading the book, and at first I was a little ambivalent (it's a vocab word from last week), but after 50 pages I realized that I couldn't put it down. And by the end? I realized that it answered the question, "Why do we write?".

Although maybe it just answers the question, "Why do I wish I could write?"

Regardless, the book is excellent, as is the movie. I highly recommend either.

It Was Bound to Happen

I can find any network TV channel when I'm at my parents' house. I have them all memorized from childhood. (Yes, I do watch a lot of TV.) And in all the other places I've lived, I've had some issues remembering those network TV channels. Wait -- is NBC 8 or 7? CBS -- 2? No, 5. Wait, 3!!

But now, for the first time since I was a child, NBC is once again channel 6. No question which channel to turn to when I want to see The Office. Channel 6 it is. It's comforting.

Hall of Vanity

Speaking of banks, we all know how banks love to build testaments to their greatness. Back in Chapel Hill there is a bizarre "plaza" that housed the bank formerly known as NationsBank. It sits right there on Franklin Street and it is the craziest building in town (except for maybe Venable Hall). Although the layout is too crazy to even try to describe, there used to be a hall of mirrors (now renovated and missing). As you walked in the front door to get to the bank or any of the businesses on the Rosemary Street side, there was this long brick hallway that was lined, floor to ceiling, with mirrors. We called it (unoriginally) the Wall of Vanity.

While at Chapel Hill, I took an introduction to psychology course, and the professors described how Psych 10 students used to have to design and conduct their own experiments, not just participate in them. One study involved the Wall of Vanity. The students sat in the hall and watched people walking through the building. They ranked how often people looked in the mirror while rating their beauty. Wouldn't you know, the beautiful people looked in the mirror and the ugly people didn't. (The requirement was dropped because it meant that the subjects were participating in experiments without their knowledge or consent -- now a no-no in the medical world.)

So as I sit at my computer, I can't help but notice that my blog is up. I find myself looking at myself in its mirror (you know: going over old blogs, reading the comments, planning future posts). The Internet has become my own personal Wall of Vanity.

Rain

Yesterday was the first rain of the season. Those of you living in more climatically-balanced parts of the country might not understand what a wonderful thing that is.

I woke up early yesterday morning to the sound of rain. Not light, drizzly rain, but solid, heavy, pinging off the window rain. It was such a pleasant, calm, cozy sound, I rolled over and went back to sleep. When I woke up a few hours later the world was washed clean. Things here have been dusty. Poor Inky is constantly coated with a think later of dirt, although I live nowhere near a dirt pile. But not after the rain. The ground was damp and fresh, the air smelled clean, and my car was about as shiny as it ever gets.

I know this means it will start to rain more and more, and that can get depressing. But the first real rain after all this dry, hot sun is refreshing regardless of what I know is in store.

When I was Young, Prices Were Reasonable, Politicians Were Noble, and Children Respected Their Elders

Homecoming is coming up in a couple of weeks and my school's theme is ridiculous. No, the theme is not "act as outrageous as you can" (although it might as well be); it's something bizarre like Music in Las Vegas. What? What do Las Vegas or musical genres have to do with high school, football, or winning (and isn't that what Homecoming is about)? Oh yeah, I forgot; they have NOTHING to do with Homecoming.

In my day, the Homecoming theme was directly tied to our Homecoming rival. If we played Massabesic, the theme was Purple People Eaters (I forget their mascot, but it's purple). The theme related to our stated goal of winning, because "you've got to win! You've got to be number one!"

Maybe it's that my new football team doesn't win every game (unlike my high school team). Maybe they just do themes differently out here on the Wrong Coast. But I can't help but know that my way is better. Our skits, chants, cheers, and floats all tied directly to beating the crap out of the other team, not to some random travel brochure. Come on people, kick some rival team ass!

I also used to walk 10 miles to school, in the snow, uphill, both ways.

But trust me on the sunscreen.



P.S. 5 points for each pop cultural reference you correctly cite. I admit that I found one on a re-read I didn't intentionally include.