1. On Friday evening my wife and I had a lovely dinner out and then decided to do a little Christmas shopping after. We ran into some folks we know; the wife works with my wife sometimes, and their daughter's in my program, and had a great visit outside a store for about 45 minutes.
Awkward moment: I ranted at one point to the husband about how much I hate the program we use for attendance and grades in this province (by government mandate) only to discover that he's been working on the software for over a year now. I wished he'd mentioned what he'd been doing for a living since leaving the navy before I made the remarks about the software designers having compromising photos of government ministers to blackmail them into forcing us all to use the program. *sigh*
2. 12th grade student sent in her "fave five" to local station that plays the songs I don't love (see posts recently) and was selected for this lunchtime's winner. She took the phone call here in the theatre, then I put the station on the theatre sound system when the segment came on. Remember that "Whatchya Say" song I ranted about before? She hates it to. The radio station ignored two of her requests, and passed off that song along with another she hates as two of her "fave five". Nice--the city hears her name, her school, and these songs she despises as her favorites.
Oh, and her big prize? 4 tickets (worth 4 bucks apiece) to a Christmas craft sale. I doubt anyone who actually listens to that station would likely go to any craft sales at any time of the year.
She's considering her legal options...
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
internet time capsules
I've always been a bit fascinated by those old things you find that take you back to another time--old newspapers or magazines that might be stashed in an attic, for instance. It's probably why I have a few thousand old radio shows from the 30s to 50s I like to listen to when I'm out working the yard or around the house. It's why the books from 100 years ago always catch my eye if I'm wandering the university library.
Maybe you've seen those time capsules that get buried on special occasions to be recoved 50, 100 or more years in the future. There are probably many buildings that still have items stashed in the cornerstone that may be discovered when demolition happens.
It's also that way with things more personal. I've never kept a diary regularly, but there are old letters and other bits of writing stashed away here and there that I might run across every few years that can take me back a couple of decades to a time when priorities and ideas were quite different.
Still, there isn't much of that stuff. There are, though, electronic captures of moments in the past, and each of us is leaving a trail of our past in the technology that surrounds us.
I got my first cassette recorder in the 6th grade. I loved it, and used it so much I needed a new one a year later.
My friends and I used to do all sorts of performing on this device, mostly silly routines where we'd imitate our teachers or something. I used to have a lot of those around but I don't think I have any left now. Then there were the tapes an old girlfriend and I used to send back and forth to each other when we lived in different towns--I know I chose to erase those.
Still, these things are private, and we can make them vanish forever if we want.
With the web it's a bit different. We can forget exactly where we've left electronic footprints, and others can post photos or videos of us that we have no control over. I know, for instance, that somewhere one of my nanowrimo novel blogs still exists, but I have no idea how to find it. I suppose if I could find that unfinished transcript file on my computer I could then do a search, but why bother?
Many of us have joined or signed up for all sorts of networking, writing or photo sharing accounts on all sorts of sites. Some get forgotten. Maybe it's the myspace page after facebook wins out, or the livejournal abandoned in favour of blogger, but some do get abandoned.
Somewhere there are a few other blogs done for fun years ago that never got wiped out. A deviantart page with some writing and photos, a bunch of photobucket accounts, some flickr IDs, a youtube or two, vimeo, lastfm and more. I go to a page and see photos of people I don't talk to anymore, or read comments and conversations between myself and those who wouldn't talk to me now if I sat next to them on a four-hour air flight.
It's not ever really gone, though. Various places on the web cache pages with the result that if you know the right places to look, you cam probably still find that deleted account with your passionate accounting of your pokemon collection, or the photos from the good times in a relationship that ended badly.
Maybe that's a good thing, though. When we're tempted to paint another with a broad and unforgiving brush, we can recall when they weren't the one-dimensional dysfunction slotted into that drawer in our memory's filing cabinet, but someone we also admired, teased, cared about and even loved. We see that our simplification of them isn't likely fair or accurate.
That's only if we can bear to look. Sometimes I still do.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Happy U.S. Thanksgiving!
Well, I'm a few days early, but in case I don't post again before Thursday, thought I should add that.
The murder mystery went really well--they liked it even more this year, and I think it was because we put quite a bit more humour in it. The kids like playing over the top characters and many of them took full advantage. Plus we had a great time scarfing down pizza across the road afterwards. I was very proud of the wonderful job they all did.
Then the next night it was the "revue" show by mostly band kids as a band fundraiser. It also ran Saturday, but my wife, daughter and I went on Friday. Amazingly talented kids, many doing their own original compositions, and quality of the calibre that I'd buy their albums when/if the release any.
There were a couple of issues, but I'd best save them for the "other" blog if I bother.
Dance show is this Thursday night--this afternoon was spent inundated by dancers working through their dress rehearsal in the theatre. I've got some amazing tech kids this year, my number one guy was in the murder mystery thursday, came back to the school around 7:30 with me and stayed there to help with the Revue rehearsal, then was back the next two nights to work that show, then in on Sunday to help strike it all, then in all afternoon today to help with the tech for the dance rehearsal.
He's proven himself as the rightful "keeper of the keys" this year.
Nanowrimo: *sigh* I had high hopes, and there's enough story in my brain to fill the 50,000 words, I am just too busy to spend the time I need writing it. I'm at 20,000 now with only a week left to go; it ain't gonna happen.
Maybe next year.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
okay--you asked for it--songs that annoy me in my car #1
Well, you didn't ask for it, but Rachel did.
First on the list there's "You Belong to Me" by Taylor Swift. It offers the following petty annoyances:
Rhyming "If you could see that I'm the one who understands you" with "Been here all along, so why can't you..." She rhymes "you" with "you". Plus she rhymes "that" with "that" and "do" with "do". Brilliant. She also rhymes "upset" with "said", "night" with "like", "find" with "time"--oh, and about "time" which is repeated at the end of a couple of verses--she says "tsime". Don't believe me? Listen next time it comes on the radio, before you switch the station, and I bet you'll hear it.
And then there's Sean Kingston--I want to drive into a telephone pole every time I hear "Shawty fire burning on the dance floor". I can't even bother with the rest of the lyrics to that stupid song.
Thing is, the station my daughter inflicts on me plays about a dozen songs over and over, throwing in something else occasionally just to fulfill whatever Canadian content rules they have to obey as part of their broadcast license. (or did that get outlawed with the free trade pact?)
I think we've heard "I've gotta feeling" at least half of the morning commutes in the last month on that station, and considering it takes less than 25 minutes to drive in, that's one predictable radio station. (and actually, as much as I dislike Fergie, I have to admit I don't mind that song)
It may be I'm going to have to go with option 2--I get the radio and she gets her Ipod--but then it's tough to have actual conversations so I guess for now I'm stuck with autotune song after autotune song. (You know, that weird distorty voice thing that virtually every song on certain stupid stations uses--it also disguises a lack of actual singing talent.)
Oh, and one more annoyance: "Oooh Watchya Say"--I liked the Imogen Heap song with the amazing harmonies and then this comes out. Yeah, Jason Derulo, you've got a sampling and autotune setup in your basement and you are an artist. You even named your "album" "Watcha Say" as well--wow, you're a musical genius, capitalizing on that one number you sampled.
I'm so tired of the samplers who pretend they've created something original--particularly the ones who fake up their voices with autotune. Seriously, all it proves is that you've got a knack at choosing a good song to rip off and you have access to some audio technology.
Now back to nanowrimo.
First on the list there's "You Belong to Me" by Taylor Swift. It offers the following petty annoyances:
Rhyming "If you could see that I'm the one who understands you" with "Been here all along, so why can't you..." She rhymes "you" with "you". Plus she rhymes "that" with "that" and "do" with "do". Brilliant. She also rhymes "upset" with "said", "night" with "like", "find" with "time"--oh, and about "time" which is repeated at the end of a couple of verses--she says "tsime". Don't believe me? Listen next time it comes on the radio, before you switch the station, and I bet you'll hear it.
And then there's Sean Kingston--I want to drive into a telephone pole every time I hear "Shawty fire burning on the dance floor". I can't even bother with the rest of the lyrics to that stupid song.
Thing is, the station my daughter inflicts on me plays about a dozen songs over and over, throwing in something else occasionally just to fulfill whatever Canadian content rules they have to obey as part of their broadcast license. (or did that get outlawed with the free trade pact?)
I think we've heard "I've gotta feeling" at least half of the morning commutes in the last month on that station, and considering it takes less than 25 minutes to drive in, that's one predictable radio station. (and actually, as much as I dislike Fergie, I have to admit I don't mind that song)
It may be I'm going to have to go with option 2--I get the radio and she gets her Ipod--but then it's tough to have actual conversations so I guess for now I'm stuck with autotune song after autotune song. (You know, that weird distorty voice thing that virtually every song on certain stupid stations uses--it also disguises a lack of actual singing talent.)
Oh, and one more annoyance: "Oooh Watchya Say"--I liked the Imogen Heap song with the amazing harmonies and then this comes out. Yeah, Jason Derulo, you've got a sampling and autotune setup in your basement and you are an artist. You even named your "album" "Watcha Say" as well--wow, you're a musical genius, capitalizing on that one number you sampled.
I'm so tired of the samplers who pretend they've created something original--particularly the ones who fake up their voices with autotune. Seriously, all it proves is that you've got a knack at choosing a good song to rip off and you have access to some audio technology.
Now back to nanowrimo.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Nano!
I decided to take yet another shot at Nanowrimo--I've done it once, got the 50,000 words completed by the deadline.
Report card marking and a bunch of other stuff put me way behind and as of this time yesterday I was at about 6400, but now, 24 hours later, I'm over 10,400, so maybe I won't quit yet.
That's why I haven't been blogging much, though. Maybe I'll post something this weekend, though. I feel a good rant about some of the music I'm hearing all the time now my daughter chooses the radio stations going to and from school together every day.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Happy Halloween!
Hey, it's a big deal for me to be able to say that. I used to hate halloween. Hate.
I used to blame my childhood memory of having my candies jacked (oops--hanging with adolescents clearly has vocabulary implications) by some older kid when I was 9 and then having that kid pull a knife on me when I chased him.
Really, though, that wasn't it. It was more the craziness that we moved into in our current neighborhood 15 years ago. For the first few years it was always "150+ kids at our door, pipe bomb blew up the kiosk where we all pick up our mail, stupid kids next door keeping mine awake for a couple weeks with screechers and firecrackers every night..."
Now it's way more relaxed. My better half actually was arguing that we should just take each kid to their planned celebratory location, turn off the outside lights, and bugger off somewhere ourselves. That used to always be me.
Now I'm the one who wants to be sure someone's here handing out candy--at least until the 17 year olds in garbage bags with holes for their arms start showing up at 9:00 p.m.
In sort of related things, I had a visit around lunchtime from a grad of '06--there were supposed to be two of them and we were going to reprise/update my favorite halloween photo from about five years ago when they made me up as a zombie.
The one who did come still wanted to do it, and after she finished making me rather undead, we did a few photos.
While looking for a video of a play she was in, I ran across the montage video of embarassing clips from the past I made for her grad class. We debated the wisdom of my posting it on facebook; there's one friend whose gender feelings and changes might make that old video particularly unwelcome, but maybe an edited version?
Watching it brought back some memories. Made me think of a quote someone passed along--I think it was from Camus? "Nothing thwarts happiness like the memory of happiness". If you knew the back story that would make sense.
Then I had to go see my daughter and the rest of the junior band kids play for the olympic torch gathering. You see, the torch was lit in Greece, then flown here to be relayed throughout this area, across the province and then around the country. Doesn't really make sense--shouldn't they have started on the east coast and worked their way across to Vancouver? I guess the hype begins and ends out here.
The weather was nicer than expected, and I walked to the park a few blocks from the school. Thing is, I was still decked out as a zombie--just added my glasses. I got a few funny looks, but there were others in olympics-related costumes, plus they'd been expecting protesters anyway, so maybe it wasn't all that strange, considering it was the day before halloween.
I caught one parent photographing me from a distance; she's someone I know though. It was funny as various band kids spotted me and then figured out who I was. A couple of grads from last year came by as well--after one's mom took our photo I asked her to take one on my camera as well:
On our way back, my daughter and I encountered the torch relay. Man--what a lot of cops from various police forces were on duty riding by on motorbikes and in various vehicles--I'm sure I saw over a hundred. All for a silly publicity gimmick.
Anyway, this rambling is good practice for Nanowrimo. I'm still scrambling for a decent novel idea, but I'm thinking of taking another shot this year. The person who got me started on this a few years ago told me she's trying again this year, and if she can do it while fulfilling her college work obligations, surely I might pull it off. (I'm one for three on this, but the last time I really didn't give it an honest try.)
If you've got any last minute suggestions for my novel direction, let me know. If you're going to take a crack at it yourself, let me know that as well.
I used to blame my childhood memory of having my candies jacked (oops--hanging with adolescents clearly has vocabulary implications) by some older kid when I was 9 and then having that kid pull a knife on me when I chased him.
Really, though, that wasn't it. It was more the craziness that we moved into in our current neighborhood 15 years ago. For the first few years it was always "150+ kids at our door, pipe bomb blew up the kiosk where we all pick up our mail, stupid kids next door keeping mine awake for a couple weeks with screechers and firecrackers every night..."
Now it's way more relaxed. My better half actually was arguing that we should just take each kid to their planned celebratory location, turn off the outside lights, and bugger off somewhere ourselves. That used to always be me.
Now I'm the one who wants to be sure someone's here handing out candy--at least until the 17 year olds in garbage bags with holes for their arms start showing up at 9:00 p.m.
In sort of related things, I had a visit around lunchtime from a grad of '06--there were supposed to be two of them and we were going to reprise/update my favorite halloween photo from about five years ago when they made me up as a zombie.
The one who did come still wanted to do it, and after she finished making me rather undead, we did a few photos.
While looking for a video of a play she was in, I ran across the montage video of embarassing clips from the past I made for her grad class. We debated the wisdom of my posting it on facebook; there's one friend whose gender feelings and changes might make that old video particularly unwelcome, but maybe an edited version?
Watching it brought back some memories. Made me think of a quote someone passed along--I think it was from Camus? "Nothing thwarts happiness like the memory of happiness". If you knew the back story that would make sense.
Then I had to go see my daughter and the rest of the junior band kids play for the olympic torch gathering. You see, the torch was lit in Greece, then flown here to be relayed throughout this area, across the province and then around the country. Doesn't really make sense--shouldn't they have started on the east coast and worked their way across to Vancouver? I guess the hype begins and ends out here.
The weather was nicer than expected, and I walked to the park a few blocks from the school. Thing is, I was still decked out as a zombie--just added my glasses. I got a few funny looks, but there were others in olympics-related costumes, plus they'd been expecting protesters anyway, so maybe it wasn't all that strange, considering it was the day before halloween.
I caught one parent photographing me from a distance; she's someone I know though. It was funny as various band kids spotted me and then figured out who I was. A couple of grads from last year came by as well--after one's mom took our photo I asked her to take one on my camera as well:
On our way back, my daughter and I encountered the torch relay. Man--what a lot of cops from various police forces were on duty riding by on motorbikes and in various vehicles--I'm sure I saw over a hundred. All for a silly publicity gimmick.
Anyway, this rambling is good practice for Nanowrimo. I'm still scrambling for a decent novel idea, but I'm thinking of taking another shot this year. The person who got me started on this a few years ago told me she's trying again this year, and if she can do it while fulfilling her college work obligations, surely I might pull it off. (I'm one for three on this, but the last time I really didn't give it an honest try.)
If you've got any last minute suggestions for my novel direction, let me know. If you're going to take a crack at it yourself, let me know that as well.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Timing seems appropriate
What with it being halloween and all. Remember the feet?
http://herrdirektor.blogspot.com/2008/05/another-foot.html
http://herrdirektor.blogspot.com/2008/06/this-is-getting-ridiculous.html
http://herrdirektor.blogspot.com/2008/06/another-day-another-one-found.html
Well, apparently it's not a sick halloween prank--they've found another one.
First another ship of illegal migrants shows is taken into custody a couple of weeks ago, and now this--it's like we're reliving the news stories from a couple of years back.
http://herrdirektor.blogspot.com/2008/05/another-foot.html
http://herrdirektor.blogspot.com/2008/06/this-is-getting-ridiculous.html
http://herrdirektor.blogspot.com/2008/06/another-day-another-one-found.html
Well, apparently it's not a sick halloween prank--they've found another one.
First another ship of illegal migrants shows is taken into custody a couple of weeks ago, and now this--it's like we're reliving the news stories from a couple of years back.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
New Link
Go read "Some Pig"--I don't know much about Caroline, the author, but it's a great read. I saw my counter suddenly was registering a lot more hits on "the kid who sits behind you" for a few days, and her blog was the reason.
She's got a lot of readers and it's easy to see why.
She's got a lot of readers and it's easy to see why.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
The power of touch
Something weird happened this evening; I wish I'd videotaped it.
We went to my in-laws to have supper with our niece who's in town just for the day. My father in law is in the end stages of lung fibrosis and isn't expected to be around that much longer. At the end of the evening, when the others had left, my wife and I were setting up an old intercom system of ours so that her dad could summon her mom if he got into trouble. (He sleeps sitting upright, with oxygen, in a room at the other end of their suite.)
There's a "call" button which sets off an alert on the other unit; we had it working and then we had him try it. Nothing. There aren't any "buttons" actually, the call button is really a metal touch pad, which works like those touch lamps.
We try to figure out what's wrong. My father in law is exerting plenty of pressure, but nothing happens. We surmise it might be because of callouses from working with his hands for years, but then something weird happens. His finger is still on the touch pad, and I touch his other hand to see if maybe he's too cold or something. The call alert activites, and a little light turns on.
We try it again--same thing. My wife gets the same result by touching the back of his other hand.
Somehow even though his body isn't producing enough charge, or capacitance (according to some sites I looked up that explain how these sort of switches work), he can still conduct the charge from one of us when we hold his other hand, and we're not particularly close to the switch.
I don't know why he was the only one it wouldn't work for. He's had serious heart problems as well as his lung trouble, and the heart is the electrical engine of the body. Perhaps that's it.
What is interesting is that there is enough of a "charge" available in our touch that it passes through another's body and can then trigger something that person is holding. Could all those clichéd love stories not just be metaphorically talking about the jolt that happens when two lovers touch? Could there something more than the psychological feel of touch that gives it its therapeutic value? Could we be wired to give each other an almost imperceptible jolt on contact?
It was a lighter moment as we face the inevitable, and it made me curious.
We went to my in-laws to have supper with our niece who's in town just for the day. My father in law is in the end stages of lung fibrosis and isn't expected to be around that much longer. At the end of the evening, when the others had left, my wife and I were setting up an old intercom system of ours so that her dad could summon her mom if he got into trouble. (He sleeps sitting upright, with oxygen, in a room at the other end of their suite.)
There's a "call" button which sets off an alert on the other unit; we had it working and then we had him try it. Nothing. There aren't any "buttons" actually, the call button is really a metal touch pad, which works like those touch lamps.
We try to figure out what's wrong. My father in law is exerting plenty of pressure, but nothing happens. We surmise it might be because of callouses from working with his hands for years, but then something weird happens. His finger is still on the touch pad, and I touch his other hand to see if maybe he's too cold or something. The call alert activites, and a little light turns on.
We try it again--same thing. My wife gets the same result by touching the back of his other hand.
Somehow even though his body isn't producing enough charge, or capacitance (according to some sites I looked up that explain how these sort of switches work), he can still conduct the charge from one of us when we hold his other hand, and we're not particularly close to the switch.
I don't know why he was the only one it wouldn't work for. He's had serious heart problems as well as his lung trouble, and the heart is the electrical engine of the body. Perhaps that's it.
What is interesting is that there is enough of a "charge" available in our touch that it passes through another's body and can then trigger something that person is holding. Could all those clichéd love stories not just be metaphorically talking about the jolt that happens when two lovers touch? Could there something more than the psychological feel of touch that gives it its therapeutic value? Could we be wired to give each other an almost imperceptible jolt on contact?
It was a lighter moment as we face the inevitable, and it made me curious.
Sufferings of my kids over dinner, AKA
...my Macbeth/Disney connection once more.
As some know, my daughter switched schools and now is not only at my school, but in my drama class as well. It's gotten past the initial weird first few days, and is working out quite well so far. I think we'll have to eventually work not to talk shop at home too much, since I doubt my wife or my son would enjoy that too much.
Meanwhile, he's in English 11 this semester at his school, which was probably my favorite grade to teach English back before my gig evolved into full time theatre, and he's studying Macbeth, which was probably my favourite unit in that course.
Thing is, his teacher's taking forever to get through the play. They've been at it for at least three weeks and they're just finishing Act II. (It's semestered, not linear.) He's started asking me about the play, and today my wife warned me off filling his head with "not the stuff his teacher will want them to know" about it.
Too late. First it was the whole "it makes more sense for Bellona's bridegroom to be Macduff" theory which I won't get into here, and then there was the "everything with Hecate was written by Middleton" issue. Still, I have to share the "Disney ripped off Shakespeare" Macbeth/Lion King thing once more. I've been flogging this with my classes since the late 90s (when my kids made us watch the damn movie over and over)
A good king (Duncan, Mufasa) is envied by a relative (Macbeth, Scar) who eventually murders him and places the blame on his son (Malcolm, Simba). The son flees his home (Scotland, Pride Lands) and goes into exile, while the new king begins a reign of terror aided by his evil supporters (mercenaries, hyenas).
Eventually things grow so bad that out of desperation one person (Macduff, Rafiki) travels to find the young king and convince him to return, but he argues that he is not worthy to come back and rule the land. Eventually Macduff/Rafiki succeed, and Duncan/Simba is joined by his newfound allies from the new land (Timon & Pumba/Old Siward & Young Siward) and they battle the evil king and his allies and restore the rightful heir to the throne.
But I guess they stole the "I am your father's ghost" from Hamlet.
As some know, my daughter switched schools and now is not only at my school, but in my drama class as well. It's gotten past the initial weird first few days, and is working out quite well so far. I think we'll have to eventually work not to talk shop at home too much, since I doubt my wife or my son would enjoy that too much.
Meanwhile, he's in English 11 this semester at his school, which was probably my favorite grade to teach English back before my gig evolved into full time theatre, and he's studying Macbeth, which was probably my favourite unit in that course.
Thing is, his teacher's taking forever to get through the play. They've been at it for at least three weeks and they're just finishing Act II. (It's semestered, not linear.) He's started asking me about the play, and today my wife warned me off filling his head with "not the stuff his teacher will want them to know" about it.
Too late. First it was the whole "it makes more sense for Bellona's bridegroom to be Macduff" theory which I won't get into here, and then there was the "everything with Hecate was written by Middleton" issue. Still, I have to share the "Disney ripped off Shakespeare" Macbeth/Lion King thing once more. I've been flogging this with my classes since the late 90s (when my kids made us watch the damn movie over and over)
A good king (Duncan, Mufasa) is envied by a relative (Macbeth, Scar) who eventually murders him and places the blame on his son (Malcolm, Simba). The son flees his home (Scotland, Pride Lands) and goes into exile, while the new king begins a reign of terror aided by his evil supporters (mercenaries, hyenas).
Eventually things grow so bad that out of desperation one person (Macduff, Rafiki) travels to find the young king and convince him to return, but he argues that he is not worthy to come back and rule the land. Eventually Macduff/Rafiki succeed, and Duncan/Simba is joined by his newfound allies from the new land (Timon & Pumba/Old Siward & Young Siward) and they battle the evil king and his allies and restore the rightful heir to the throne.
But I guess they stole the "I am your father's ghost" from Hamlet.
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
A Perfect Day
It goes something like this:
A beautiful drive to work just before sunrise with my daughter, then a little later my friends now up from Honduras arrive--first time in over a year I've seen them, and we have a nice bus ride to catch up. Then, a play that all my students enjoyed, a short bus ride back to Duncan, and a break for food--pizza with my friends then back on the bus and home.
We all drive out to my place, beer on the patio enjoying the sunshine, and even my wife joins us for a while when she gets home. Then eventually we end up downtown, wandering like tourists and settle on a cheap but delicious restaurant in Chinatown.
Later, a stroll back through downtown to a pub, and a chance to laugh over drinks.
It was the bestest day ever. Here are a few pics:
Phone pic at Boston Pizza in Duncan
Dani contemplates her beer on the patio
Mmm, smell the horses.
We stand on guard for thee.
The chinese food becomes part of a classic movie re-enactment: "You talkin' to ME?"
(well, it could have happened)
A beautiful drive to work just before sunrise with my daughter, then a little later my friends now up from Honduras arrive--first time in over a year I've seen them, and we have a nice bus ride to catch up. Then, a play that all my students enjoyed, a short bus ride back to Duncan, and a break for food--pizza with my friends then back on the bus and home.
We all drive out to my place, beer on the patio enjoying the sunshine, and even my wife joins us for a while when she gets home. Then eventually we end up downtown, wandering like tourists and settle on a cheap but delicious restaurant in Chinatown.
Later, a stroll back through downtown to a pub, and a chance to laugh over drinks.
It was the bestest day ever. Here are a few pics:
Phone pic at Boston Pizza in Duncan
Dani contemplates her beer on the patio
Mmm, smell the horses.
We stand on guard for thee.
The chinese food becomes part of a classic movie re-enactment: "You talkin' to ME?"
(well, it could have happened)
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Don't even know what to call this
This commercial has come on a few times when we're watching tv and I just enjoy how it makes my wife giggle uncontrollably--mostly because it's so darned creepy. Don't quite know how it relates to chocolate bars, or anything else for that matter.
edit: I notice for some reason this posts as wider than fits in the blog. I really must try to fix up this blog layout one of these days. If you want to see it properly, you can also go to where I posted it originally, on photobucket. I think this will work without a password:
http://s11.photobucket.com/albums/a152/jpurple/?action=view¤t=eyebrowscommercial.flv
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
tense
There are some of you who know my friend who's been living in Honduras for about two years now--she's more family than friend.
Things aren't good there at the moment, and while normally I might take some comfort in the fact that she's living on an island far from where most of the troubles might be, she and her girlfriend were on her way home for a visit--they had planned to be in Canada by tomorrow--and they're caught in this situation:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/8270218.stm
I've been keeping up by chatting and messaging on line quite a bit, even yesterday at lunch from work, and they're stuck indoors just a couple of blocks from where a lot of the action was going on a couple days ago in Tegucigalpa.
Today I'm having a quick coffee with her successor--the only other techie kid I've ever trusted with their own set of keys to the theatre--to say goodbye before she heads off Friday to live in Nicaragua.
I need to start giving those keys to people I don't like.
In the meantime, I'm sending prayers and thoughts that my Honduras friends will soon be out of that and here for a while. No doubt there will be some pressure not to go back from those who care but I'll trust they know the best course of action.
Things aren't good there at the moment, and while normally I might take some comfort in the fact that she's living on an island far from where most of the troubles might be, she and her girlfriend were on her way home for a visit--they had planned to be in Canada by tomorrow--and they're caught in this situation:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/8270218.stm
I've been keeping up by chatting and messaging on line quite a bit, even yesterday at lunch from work, and they're stuck indoors just a couple of blocks from where a lot of the action was going on a couple days ago in Tegucigalpa.
Today I'm having a quick coffee with her successor--the only other techie kid I've ever trusted with their own set of keys to the theatre--to say goodbye before she heads off Friday to live in Nicaragua.
I need to start giving those keys to people I don't like.
In the meantime, I'm sending prayers and thoughts that my Honduras friends will soon be out of that and here for a while. No doubt there will be some pressure not to go back from those who care but I'll trust they know the best course of action.
Monday, September 14, 2009
The Kid Who Sits Behind You Explains
The DaVinci Code
(Editor's note: The Kid Who Sits Behind You has been on sabbatical for a while, but he is happy to be back now that he is in college and being forced to read books again. He did manage to graduate high school and tried his luck touring with a band for a couple of months, and well, the less said about that, the better. He is now enrolled in a community college, and has also joined a book club, formed by his new girlfriend, Lisanne. He is happy to once again to be able to offer you his unique insights into a variety of literary works.)
So this Dan Brown guy is all into symbolism and secret stuff and Sangreal, which I think is like some sort of wine mixed with fruit juice, plus he's all into weird religious crap and goddesses and goats and stuff. (Kinda like some of the posters I got cheap when my favorite metal record store had that closing out sale.)
He goes on about something called Opus Dei, which I think means something like "Opie's Day" or maybe "Opie is God" in latin. So I kinda got into this symbolism thing too, (cause on account of some stuff we was adjustin' our consciousness with after the first book meeting, even though Lisanne said she's going to be all straightedge now she's starting college but it was a Friday night...) Anyway, I think I get what he's hinting at.
Opie was the kid in that Andy Griffith show I used to watch on those dvds at my grandma's place and the show used to be called "Andy of Mayberry". Well, the Leonardo's name isn't "da Vinci"--that just means his name is really "Leonard of Vinci". See the connection? Plus Mayberry is like some sort of plant that they'd probably wear in their hair on May Day, when they dance around the maypole, which is like all goddess symbolic and pagan and stuff.
Plus there was a guy on the show named Gomer, and that was one of the kids of Japeth, who is one of Noah's three sons and there's all this stuff in the freemasons (my grandpa was one and after he kicked it we found this weird apron in his closet and for a while I thought he was some sort of crossdresser) about Noah's kids and that all ties in.
The main woman in the show is this hella old chick named "Aunt Bea", and that's short for Beatrice, who was a character in some play by some guy named Percy Shelley and she's treated like crap and beat on by her dad. So I figure like Aunt Bea's always havin' to be maid for Sheriff Andy 'cause he's the male authority and she's this "sacred feminine" that the religious authorities have beat down all the time.
Finally, the theme music to the show was called "The Fishin' Hole" and when they start the show there's Opie carrying a fishing pole. This is symbolic cause on account of Dan Brown tells us the "age of pisces" (the fish) is over and the "age of aquariums" is beginning, which I think mean that the christian fish-symbol is going to be replaced by the goddess of fish tanks, and Andy and Opie are going to kill fish so it all makes sense.
Plus the deputy Barney had no play with the babes and that stupid guy in the book has this hot French chick detective around and he is too busy looking for symbols to get busy, if you get what I'm sayin.
(Editor's note: The Kid Who Sits Behind You has been on sabbatical for a while, but he is happy to be back now that he is in college and being forced to read books again. He did manage to graduate high school and tried his luck touring with a band for a couple of months, and well, the less said about that, the better. He is now enrolled in a community college, and has also joined a book club, formed by his new girlfriend, Lisanne. He is happy to once again to be able to offer you his unique insights into a variety of literary works.)
So this Dan Brown guy is all into symbolism and secret stuff and Sangreal, which I think is like some sort of wine mixed with fruit juice, plus he's all into weird religious crap and goddesses and goats and stuff. (Kinda like some of the posters I got cheap when my favorite metal record store had that closing out sale.)
He goes on about something called Opus Dei, which I think means something like "Opie's Day" or maybe "Opie is God" in latin. So I kinda got into this symbolism thing too, (cause on account of some stuff we was adjustin' our consciousness with after the first book meeting, even though Lisanne said she's going to be all straightedge now she's starting college but it was a Friday night...) Anyway, I think I get what he's hinting at.
Opie was the kid in that Andy Griffith show I used to watch on those dvds at my grandma's place and the show used to be called "Andy of Mayberry". Well, the Leonardo's name isn't "da Vinci"--that just means his name is really "Leonard of Vinci". See the connection? Plus Mayberry is like some sort of plant that they'd probably wear in their hair on May Day, when they dance around the maypole, which is like all goddess symbolic and pagan and stuff.
Plus there was a guy on the show named Gomer, and that was one of the kids of Japeth, who is one of Noah's three sons and there's all this stuff in the freemasons (my grandpa was one and after he kicked it we found this weird apron in his closet and for a while I thought he was some sort of crossdresser) about Noah's kids and that all ties in.
The main woman in the show is this hella old chick named "Aunt Bea", and that's short for Beatrice, who was a character in some play by some guy named Percy Shelley and she's treated like crap and beat on by her dad. So I figure like Aunt Bea's always havin' to be maid for Sheriff Andy 'cause he's the male authority and she's this "sacred feminine" that the religious authorities have beat down all the time.
Finally, the theme music to the show was called "The Fishin' Hole" and when they start the show there's Opie carrying a fishing pole. This is symbolic cause on account of Dan Brown tells us the "age of pisces" (the fish) is over and the "age of aquariums" is beginning, which I think mean that the christian fish-symbol is going to be replaced by the goddess of fish tanks, and Andy and Opie are going to kill fish so it all makes sense.
Plus the deputy Barney had no play with the babes and that stupid guy in the book has this hot French chick detective around and he is too busy looking for symbols to get busy, if you get what I'm sayin.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
This sounds like a Mickey Mouse deal to me
Disney cruises will be stopping here by 2011. My daughter will be a few years out of their target demographic by then, but I'm sure some locals will be thrilled. Expect a lot of little girls in princess dresses wandering the tourist trap shops on Government Street...
Monday, September 07, 2009
Regeneration
In about 10 hours, I'll meet with students for the first time this school year. (So I should probably get to bed.)
I've been thinking about the beginning of this new school year the last week or two, and as always, I have mixed feelings about it. While it's a little sad to say goodbye to the summer, particularly one as nice as this one, the last few days have been rainy and felt more like fall, and it feels like we should be getting back at it.
My daughter's excited about coming to my school this year, although she's leaving behind all her close friends from her previous school to do so. I'm looking forward to our daily commutes together; no doubt we'll have lots of time to discuss all manner of things as the weeks and months pass. I suspect we'll also argue about radio station choices quite a bit...
The summer is quite long, but I think it's necessary. Not for the "school is such a grind we need a longer break" excuse so much as I think it needs to be clearly separated by time from the year that's ended--we need to make a clear break from what came before and feel that what lies ahead is something new, something fraught with possibility.
In much the same way as the winter is needed for fruit trees to lie dormant and then blossom to life once more, so we need to empty the school and leave it to the custodians and tradespeople so that we can return to someplace clean, perhaps painted or renovated, and ready to be filled with the expectancy the new school year brings.
We turn over at least 25% of our population each year as well. As wonderful as any departing grad class may be, after four years we've all gotten a little too used to each other, and they've outgrown what we have to offer, and all of our particular idiosyncrasies--theirs and ours--have begun to wear thin. The incoming kids will bring their own challenges, but at least some will be new challenges.
No matter how many first days of school one experiences, you can't help but pick up some of the nervous energy and excitement that fill the halls as the new grade 9s try to muster a confident swagger and eagerly clump together for encouragement, talking a little too loudly as they pretend they know where they're going.
The new grade 12s take a little while to settle into the rarefied air of senior status, and at first wander about as if looking for the big kids who ran the show a few months before. The senior hangouts gradually become less empty, as one by one they dare claim these spaces as their own. In a few weeks, though, they'll wear the mantle of their seniority more comfortably, and the memory of another departed grad class will gradually fade.
There will be all sorts of resolutions--the best lesson plans and most innovative units are often those written for the first few weeks of school. Once routine is established, and any number of unexpected demands steal focus, we will succumb, to varying degrees, to the temptation of the familiar, the safe.
Still, there will be surprises. I hope, for all who read this and are facing their own new school years, that most are nice ones.
I've been thinking about the beginning of this new school year the last week or two, and as always, I have mixed feelings about it. While it's a little sad to say goodbye to the summer, particularly one as nice as this one, the last few days have been rainy and felt more like fall, and it feels like we should be getting back at it.
My daughter's excited about coming to my school this year, although she's leaving behind all her close friends from her previous school to do so. I'm looking forward to our daily commutes together; no doubt we'll have lots of time to discuss all manner of things as the weeks and months pass. I suspect we'll also argue about radio station choices quite a bit...
The summer is quite long, but I think it's necessary. Not for the "school is such a grind we need a longer break" excuse so much as I think it needs to be clearly separated by time from the year that's ended--we need to make a clear break from what came before and feel that what lies ahead is something new, something fraught with possibility.
In much the same way as the winter is needed for fruit trees to lie dormant and then blossom to life once more, so we need to empty the school and leave it to the custodians and tradespeople so that we can return to someplace clean, perhaps painted or renovated, and ready to be filled with the expectancy the new school year brings.
We turn over at least 25% of our population each year as well. As wonderful as any departing grad class may be, after four years we've all gotten a little too used to each other, and they've outgrown what we have to offer, and all of our particular idiosyncrasies--theirs and ours--have begun to wear thin. The incoming kids will bring their own challenges, but at least some will be new challenges.
No matter how many first days of school one experiences, you can't help but pick up some of the nervous energy and excitement that fill the halls as the new grade 9s try to muster a confident swagger and eagerly clump together for encouragement, talking a little too loudly as they pretend they know where they're going.
The new grade 12s take a little while to settle into the rarefied air of senior status, and at first wander about as if looking for the big kids who ran the show a few months before. The senior hangouts gradually become less empty, as one by one they dare claim these spaces as their own. In a few weeks, though, they'll wear the mantle of their seniority more comfortably, and the memory of another departed grad class will gradually fade.
There will be all sorts of resolutions--the best lesson plans and most innovative units are often those written for the first few weeks of school. Once routine is established, and any number of unexpected demands steal focus, we will succumb, to varying degrees, to the temptation of the familiar, the safe.
Still, there will be surprises. I hope, for all who read this and are facing their own new school years, that most are nice ones.
Saturday, September 05, 2009
Nice ending
It was a terrible situation--story was on my google all Thurday evening. A two-year-old B.C. toddler wandered away from where his family was camping in the Yukon. Not exactly safe terrain, and it gets cold at night.
Then, the next day, turns out the little guy is found. He'd followed a dog he saw into the forest. The dog had been lost for a week or so, and it must have stayed with him, and probably kept him warm overnight. They were found together, and are okay. The owners of the dog found out the little boy wanted to keep the dog, so they're letting him have it.
Full story here.
Then, the next day, turns out the little guy is found. He'd followed a dog he saw into the forest. The dog had been lost for a week or so, and it must have stayed with him, and probably kept him warm overnight. They were found together, and are okay. The owners of the dog found out the little boy wanted to keep the dog, so they're letting him have it.
Full story here.
Friday, September 04, 2009
And the latest retro/nostalgia trend to return is...
McCarthyism.
Obama wants to start off the school year by making a 15-minute speech to students encouraging them to take control of their education.
Apparently it's really an attempt to indoctrinate them with "Marxist propaganda".
First, the ridiculous proposition that health care isn't just for the rich and now telling kids "to set goals for your own education: to study hard and get involved in your school."
Fortunately a lot school districts are savvy to his gun-hatin', healthcare-forcin', ways and they won't be lettin' their kids be brainwashed by the man the country is followin' like a bunch of crazy cult people.
*sigh*
Obama wants to start off the school year by making a 15-minute speech to students encouraging them to take control of their education.
Apparently it's really an attempt to indoctrinate them with "Marxist propaganda".
First, the ridiculous proposition that health care isn't just for the rich and now telling kids "to set goals for your own education: to study hard and get involved in your school."
Fortunately a lot school districts are savvy to his gun-hatin', healthcare-forcin', ways and they won't be lettin' their kids be brainwashed by the man the country is followin' like a bunch of crazy cult people.
*sigh*
Monday, August 17, 2009
nostalgia
I'm back in my home town--had the high-school reunion on Friday and Saturday evenings, and my family got here today.
Reunions are funny things. Some people haven't aged very well; others look amazing. I went up with my old roommate from university days; we were also best men at each other's weddings. Apparently we were better preserved than most, we were told. Might make sense; I'm sure we drink a lot less than many of our former classmates, and haven't been through as many divorces.
It was disappointing how many locals didn't show up for the event. I suppose there is the possibility that in a smaller town, there are folks who have bad feelings from broken marriages or other connections that have transpired over the years, and they didn't want to see certain people in that sort of situation.
It was fun to talk to some people I haven't really had conversations with since elementary school. It's also amazing how we can trigger each other's memories of all sorts of details from back in grade 2 or 3 that I hadn't thought of for years.
Yesterday I had some hours to kill after my friend left on one ferry and my family came over on the next, so I bought a novel and wandered the town, reading on the beach for a while, then strolling by old haunts. It was weird what came back as I walked by the house where I lived until I was four, or wandered the grounds of my old elementary school. The door was wide open so I even went in to see the hallways didn't look much like they had back when I attended.
Now we're staying at a nice resort on the water--here's a photo of the sunset from our deck last night:
Coffee on the same deck this morning, listening to the waves roll in, was very good for the soul.
Reunions are funny things. Some people haven't aged very well; others look amazing. I went up with my old roommate from university days; we were also best men at each other's weddings. Apparently we were better preserved than most, we were told. Might make sense; I'm sure we drink a lot less than many of our former classmates, and haven't been through as many divorces.
It was disappointing how many locals didn't show up for the event. I suppose there is the possibility that in a smaller town, there are folks who have bad feelings from broken marriages or other connections that have transpired over the years, and they didn't want to see certain people in that sort of situation.
It was fun to talk to some people I haven't really had conversations with since elementary school. It's also amazing how we can trigger each other's memories of all sorts of details from back in grade 2 or 3 that I hadn't thought of for years.
Yesterday I had some hours to kill after my friend left on one ferry and my family came over on the next, so I bought a novel and wandered the town, reading on the beach for a while, then strolling by old haunts. It was weird what came back as I walked by the house where I lived until I was four, or wandered the grounds of my old elementary school. The door was wide open so I even went in to see the hallways didn't look much like they had back when I attended.
Now we're staying at a nice resort on the water--here's a photo of the sunset from our deck last night:
Coffee on the same deck this morning, listening to the waves roll in, was very good for the soul.
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