The Test 30: Stacey's Songs (Continue to Have It Going On)
This week on The Test, Stacey delivers yet another clever song quiz: identify the title and artist of each track, and then -- at the end-- try to figure out the overarching theme; I struggled a bit on this one, but our special guest Whitney fared a bit better . . . warning-- there is no Cunningham, no Billy Joel, no Bon Jovi, and no Indigo Girls in this episode . . . and if you think it's going to be easy, then you've got another thing coming.
Ring in the New Year with Chick Lit
I forgot to bring my Liane Moriarty novel Three Wishes on vacation, but my wife came to the rescue and lent me her Jojo Moyes novel One Plus One, which uses a dysfunctional family road trip (think Little Miss Sunshine) as a catalyst for the most unlikely modern romance: across the great divide of social class . . . this kind of cross-class romance has become statistically rarer and rarer in modern times, as people are tending to marry people of the same educational background and the same financial bracket; in "Equality and the End of Marrying Up," Katrin Bennhold sums it up neatly: "Doctors used to marry nurses . . . now doctors marry doctors," but if you're willing to suspend your disbelief for a few hours, One Plus One will make you root for the underdog relationship, and there are plenty of plot twists and well drawn characters and wild scenarios along the way . . . one hundred and two pairs of reading spectacles out of a possible one hundred and six.
Reality vs. Mario Kart 8
This sentence is in no way indicative of the entirety of our Vermont vacation, which mainly consisted of snowy hikes with the kids and dog, browsing the giant book store in downtown Manchester, reading books we bought from the giant book store in downtown Manchester, drinking delicious Vermont beer, board games, a sledding adventure on the Equinox golf course with some friends from Highland Park, and a general reprieve from the business as usual . . . BUT there was a twenty-four hour period of chaotic wackiness that is slightly more interesting: we brought the Wii U along for the trip and by Wednesday night I thought I had gotten good enough competing with the kids at Mario Kart 8 that I could play at the fastest speed (200cc) which I did after the kids went to bed (and I certainly had drank a few of those delicious Vermont beers and playing Mario Kart alone is a whole different beast, infinitely more epic, because instead of looking at a quarter of the screen, you're hurtling into the whole thing) and because of this late night racing, I had an awful night's sleep, my head populated with vivid dreams about the game, my tricked-out buggy caroming off guardrails and slamming into walls, then hurtling through the course as a giant bullet, before being spun in circles by a red turtle shell, and then I woke up and we went to Stratton Mountain to do some snowboarding and skiing, and it was insanely crowded and there were only a couple of runs open, because of the warm weather, and riding down the mountain was exactly like Mario Kart: the conditions were variable, the course was crowded, and you might be on ice on moment and then bouncing off a slushy pile of snow the next . . . and while I have no empirical proof, I think that our Mario Kart sessions may have prepared us for this mayhem, as my kids handled it without a mishap and I didn't have an anxiety attack, despite my claustrophobia, but I have learned my lesson, I'll never play Mario Kart after eight PM again (I had the same sort of dreams when I got obsessed with Gameboy Tetris in college . . . but that's what it takes to achieve the five fiddlers and the space shuttle launch).
If You're Reading This, Then the Bad News Probably Doesn't Apply to You . . . or Does It?
Robert D. Putnam (the Harvard social scientist of Bowling Alone fame) has a new book, titled Our Kids: The American Dream in Crisis , which details how the "opportunity gap" between richer kids and poorer kids has widened to a disturbing level; he begins the book with the stories of people from his high school class in Port Clinton, Ohio in 1959 and these carefully chosen anecdotes (from a wealth of research, described in the appendix) illustrate how social class didn't have that much of an impact on the future of these graduates, and then Putnam makes his way to the present, where a much different system is in place; the book is full of studies, scissor charts, statistics, and actual stories of indicative families and their children . . . and the indications are that schools are not to blame, kids are not to blame, biased tests are not to blame, and race is not to blame . . . the problem is money, and if you're a parent who can afford to live in a good school district, and you have the time and money and perseverance enroll your kid in extra-curricular activities, and you have the time to talk to them about school and homework and their lives-- to parent like a member of the upper class-- then your child is on track to achieve great things . . . but if you're not, then the news is downright awful; here are some random things that struck me . . . but I suggest you read the whole thing, even though if you've made it this far into this sentence, then you are probably on the greener side of the opportunity gap; the book is too dense to summarize, but I think it's something about which both rich and poor people should be informed:
1) we are now very likely to marry someone of the same social class, which is a change since mid-century, and this exacerbates the widening social class gap;
2) the competitive pressure in the best schools often comes from the general atmosphere created by a select group of parents and students, and pervades the school . . . some of the best schools are actually trying to put the brakes on this ultra-competitive environment, because, as Kira says, it puts kids in "robot mode" and they can't enjoy anything, but this kind of school does breed academic and extracurricular success, and these kids go on to succeed in college . . . for a fascinating example of this, read the New York Times article about a high-performing school down the road from me (West Windsor-Plainsboro) that is trying to ease the pressure on students, because they are so stressed out, but the superintendent is meeting resistance from about half the parents, mainly from the Asian community, who want school to be intense and stressful, so that they insure that their children are on the right side of the gap;
3) involvement extracurricular activities is "strongly associated with a variety of positive outcomes during the school years and beyond" and rich kids are taking part in them and poor kids are not-- for a variety of reasons, including lack of transportation, work, sibling child care, pay-to-play programs, and general inaccessibility . . . and, interestingly, "the extracurricular activity most consistently associated with high academic achievement is sports," so the stereotype of a dumb jock is absolutely incorrect . . . in fact, the only negative about participating in sports that could be found amidst a myriad of positives was that sports "is often correlated with excessive drinking (but not drug use)"
4) there is a scary statistic about test scores and social class, while-- predictably-- high-scoring rich kids graduate from college at a high rate (74%) and low scoring poor kids graduate from college at a very low rate (3%) the frightening thing is that high-scoring poor kids are less likely to get a college degree (29%) than low-scoring rich kids (30%) which is a serious blow not only to the American Dream, but to the quality of our work force . . . we're not letting a lot of potentially smart people into the pool;
5) this opportunity gap is happening just as much within racial groups as it is on the whole, which is a clear indicator that it is social class and not prejudice and racial bias that is most culpable for these results;
6) growing up in an impoverished neighborhood doesn't just make you more likely to get mugged, or be in a gang, it actually affects your ability to trust others-- something critical to succeeding in the workplace, and in college; it inhibits your ability to make weak social connections and to acquire informal mentors, which are of great necessity; and it leads to anxiety and obesity . . . perhaps due to lack of parks, inaccessibility to sports programs, and because of noise and chaos, so because our society is so segregated now by social class, kids who grow up in a poor neighborhood are disadvantaged when they come out of the womb;
7) we could be setting up a dire situation, political scientist William Kornhauser sees this disenfranchised class as the precursor to "demagogic mass movements, such as Nazism, Fascism" because there is little political involvement from poor kids-- they don't have role models, and politics isn't discussed, the government is viewed as corrupt, byzantine, and impregnable;
8) Putnam ends with a chapter called "What Is To Be Done?" and he suggests a number of ways to shrink the gap, but they will be difficult to institute . . . he believes good teachers need to be lured to bad schools, and the only way to do this is with money, he believes the poorest people need even greater tax breaks, strong anti-poverty programs, an end to pay-to-play, and more importantly, these kids need to be able to live in wealthier areas, or at least go to school in such areas-- but this isn't completely feasible and will meet with political backlash (he really doesn't mention the politics of this situation, other than to say that the wealthy participate in politics far more than the poor, and if we really believe that this is our country and these are all "our kids," then you can't responsibly ignore the problem) and he suggests long-term solutions such as trying to restore working-class wages and instituting early childhood education and better child-care centers and more support for working parents (we're ranked among the worst countries in the world with regards to child care) but, given the political climate of our country, I don't see much attention being paid to this problem in the near future, and the consequences are awful for everyone, these kids will be a drag on the economy, an expense to our health care system, have difficulty in the working world, and have very little chance to advance in social class . . . and while some people will find solace that their own kids are not among these children, what they fail to realize is that the economy and the quality of life in our country is not a zero sum game, if these kids succeed, everyone succeeds . . . neighborhoods succeed, businesses succeed, schools succeed, the real estate market succeeds, and so while the bad news might not apply directly to your kids, and they may be on the road to success, in the end those left behind are going to be everyone's problem.
1) we are now very likely to marry someone of the same social class, which is a change since mid-century, and this exacerbates the widening social class gap;
2) the competitive pressure in the best schools often comes from the general atmosphere created by a select group of parents and students, and pervades the school . . . some of the best schools are actually trying to put the brakes on this ultra-competitive environment, because, as Kira says, it puts kids in "robot mode" and they can't enjoy anything, but this kind of school does breed academic and extracurricular success, and these kids go on to succeed in college . . . for a fascinating example of this, read the New York Times article about a high-performing school down the road from me (West Windsor-Plainsboro) that is trying to ease the pressure on students, because they are so stressed out, but the superintendent is meeting resistance from about half the parents, mainly from the Asian community, who want school to be intense and stressful, so that they insure that their children are on the right side of the gap;
3) involvement extracurricular activities is "strongly associated with a variety of positive outcomes during the school years and beyond" and rich kids are taking part in them and poor kids are not-- for a variety of reasons, including lack of transportation, work, sibling child care, pay-to-play programs, and general inaccessibility . . . and, interestingly, "the extracurricular activity most consistently associated with high academic achievement is sports," so the stereotype of a dumb jock is absolutely incorrect . . . in fact, the only negative about participating in sports that could be found amidst a myriad of positives was that sports "is often correlated with excessive drinking (but not drug use)"
4) there is a scary statistic about test scores and social class, while-- predictably-- high-scoring rich kids graduate from college at a high rate (74%) and low scoring poor kids graduate from college at a very low rate (3%) the frightening thing is that high-scoring poor kids are less likely to get a college degree (29%) than low-scoring rich kids (30%) which is a serious blow not only to the American Dream, but to the quality of our work force . . . we're not letting a lot of potentially smart people into the pool;
5) this opportunity gap is happening just as much within racial groups as it is on the whole, which is a clear indicator that it is social class and not prejudice and racial bias that is most culpable for these results;
6) growing up in an impoverished neighborhood doesn't just make you more likely to get mugged, or be in a gang, it actually affects your ability to trust others-- something critical to succeeding in the workplace, and in college; it inhibits your ability to make weak social connections and to acquire informal mentors, which are of great necessity; and it leads to anxiety and obesity . . . perhaps due to lack of parks, inaccessibility to sports programs, and because of noise and chaos, so because our society is so segregated now by social class, kids who grow up in a poor neighborhood are disadvantaged when they come out of the womb;
7) we could be setting up a dire situation, political scientist William Kornhauser sees this disenfranchised class as the precursor to "demagogic mass movements, such as Nazism, Fascism" because there is little political involvement from poor kids-- they don't have role models, and politics isn't discussed, the government is viewed as corrupt, byzantine, and impregnable;
8) Putnam ends with a chapter called "What Is To Be Done?" and he suggests a number of ways to shrink the gap, but they will be difficult to institute . . . he believes good teachers need to be lured to bad schools, and the only way to do this is with money, he believes the poorest people need even greater tax breaks, strong anti-poverty programs, an end to pay-to-play, and more importantly, these kids need to be able to live in wealthier areas, or at least go to school in such areas-- but this isn't completely feasible and will meet with political backlash (he really doesn't mention the politics of this situation, other than to say that the wealthy participate in politics far more than the poor, and if we really believe that this is our country and these are all "our kids," then you can't responsibly ignore the problem) and he suggests long-term solutions such as trying to restore working-class wages and instituting early childhood education and better child-care centers and more support for working parents (we're ranked among the worst countries in the world with regards to child care) but, given the political climate of our country, I don't see much attention being paid to this problem in the near future, and the consequences are awful for everyone, these kids will be a drag on the economy, an expense to our health care system, have difficulty in the working world, and have very little chance to advance in social class . . . and while some people will find solace that their own kids are not among these children, what they fail to realize is that the economy and the quality of life in our country is not a zero sum game, if these kids succeed, everyone succeeds . . . neighborhoods succeed, businesses succeed, schools succeed, the real estate market succeeds, and so while the bad news might not apply directly to your kids, and they may be on the road to success, in the end those left behind are going to be everyone's problem.
2016: More of the Same . . . Plus a Little More
In 2016, I resolve to continue doing more of the same-- this worked well for me in 2015-- and in addition, as a bonus, I am resolving to do two other things:
1) play more video games . . . and I've already got a head start on this resolution, as we got a Wii U for Christmas;
2) take over for Yogi Berra, because someone has to construct baffling aphorisms, and Yogi's dead, and when dead people talk, they don't say much (besides "AVENGE MY DEATH," which is way too straightforward for Yogi Berra).
1) play more video games . . . and I've already got a head start on this resolution, as we got a Wii U for Christmas;
2) take over for Yogi Berra, because someone has to construct baffling aphorisms, and Yogi's dead, and when dead people talk, they don't say much (besides "AVENGE MY DEATH," which is way too straightforward for Yogi Berra).
These Just Might Be The Best Sentences of 2015
If you didn't keep up with Sentence of Dave this year, then shame on you, but you can redeem yourself before the New Year by reading these fifteen sentences that the panel has chosen as Dave's Best of 2015:
1) The Miracle of the Latch
2) The Miracle of the Mug
3) The Miracle on Winter Solstice
4) Best List of Things to Say to Your Kids
5) Best "How To" Sentence
6) Poem of the Year
7) Best Sentence About Cake
8) Of Laziness and Raccoons
9) Weirdest Hobby
10) Euphemism of the Year
11) The Most Idiotic Epic of the Year
12) The Most Ironic Moment of the Year
13) Cutest Sentence of the Year
14) Best Sentence About Frank Sinatra and Mean Girls
15) Symbolic Gesture of the Year.
1) The Miracle of the Latch
2) The Miracle of the Mug
3) The Miracle on Winter Solstice
4) Best List of Things to Say to Your Kids
5) Best "How To" Sentence
6) Poem of the Year
7) Best Sentence About Cake
8) Of Laziness and Raccoons
9) Weirdest Hobby
10) Euphemism of the Year
11) The Most Idiotic Epic of the Year
12) The Most Ironic Moment of the Year
13) Cutest Sentence of the Year
14) Best Sentence About Frank Sinatra and Mean Girls
15) Symbolic Gesture of the Year.
Falling Down When No One is Looking
A few weeks ago we did an "evaluating technology" unit in Composition Class, and I stumbled upon a This American Life excerpt about how time travel is the most coveted future technology-- Pew Research polled 1001 Americans and nine percent want to travel through time; and I was so excited to ask this same question to my classes-- what future technology do you desire the most?-- that I got ahead of myself and tried to spin, sit down, and type at the same time, which resulted in me kicking my rolling chair out from under me as I tried to sit in it, and so I hit the floor pretty hard . . . but no one saw this happen-- everyone from the previous class had exited the room and no one was in the hallway . . . but though there were no witnesses, I ended up creating some, because I reenacted the scene for my next two periods (and also told them the story of this magnificent failure to sit in a chair and consequently reenacted that humiliating pratfall for them, so by the end of the day I was pretty sore) and then I asked them the question that caused my excitement: "What exciting new technology would you like to see happen in the near future?" and in both classes, time travel was the winner . . . and, during This American Life, when they interviewed people as to why they wanted to travel through time, most people wanted to either kill Hitler or just fix embarrassing stuff that happened to them in the past, or see dinosaurs, and while I don't think humans could ever possibly handle a technology as powerful as time travel (we can't handle the combination of cell phones and cars) I can see the allure of seeing a dinosaur, or just fixing some of the awkward moments that make up much of the content of this blog (but I wouldn't have much to write about).
Rebus and Bosch . . . A Fitting End to a Great Year of Crime Fiction
Though I didn't plan it, the last two books I read in 2015 were a Harry Bosch mystery (Trunk Music) and a John Rebus mystery (Hide & Seek) and in both novels, these rather similar detectives plunge into respective Chandler-esque labyrinths of corruption, and while they suffer some hard knocks, because they both have a code of conduct, they are able to wiggle free from their mazes, whether in L.A. or Edinburgh, and breath fresh air at the end of each story . . . once again, thanks to Joyce Carol Oates for introducing me to Michael Connelly and Ian Rankin as "masters of the genre" . . . I've only been reading about these guys for a year, but-- like the great Shakespeare characters-- I feel like I've known Harry Bosch and John Rebus all of my life.
The Bright Side of Elimination
Our first full day in Vermont was a wet one, foggy and cloudy and damp and rainy, but we braved the weather (it was fairly warm) and took a hike to Prospect Rock, and while the hike wasn't too slick, and there was a nice waterfall, when we got to the top, we certainly weren't rewarded views of the valley below, in fact, all we could see was a wall of fog, and then once we got back to the rental, it rained harder and harder-- the kind of day where you want to go to bed early, but I was determined to stay up and watch the Giants game, until I learned that they were eliminated from play-off contention (because the Redskins beat the Eagles) and so I don't have to watch them again until next season . . . happy days!
A Disembodied Voice Gives Dave Good Advice
The first night of our balmy Vermont vacation, I walked from our rental to Manchester Discount Beverage to stock up on local beer, and I immediately grabbed a six pack of the new stubby Switchback Ale bottles (normally Switchback only comes in 22 oz. bottles) and then I couldn't make up my mind on another six pack-- I kept pulling open the cooler doors and perusing all the beers they don't stock in New Jersey, and every time I opened a different door, bursts of profanity poured from behind the beer, as the two dudes stocking the shelves were chatting away, swearing profusely as they did, and-- finally-- after the fifth time I opened a cooler door, a voice from behind the beer said, "You just can't make up your mind, can you?" and I said, "No, I'm from New Jersey," to explain how baffled I was by the selection and he said, "You're all from New Jersey" which was accurate, because it was a beautiful Saturday and Manchester was packed with tourists, eating, drinking, and shopping at the outlets (there were quite a few New Yorkers roaming around as well) and then he said,"What do you like?" and by this time I had found his face through a crack between the six packs of beer, he was wearing a hat and had crooked teeth, but-- from what I could see of it-- a friendly enough face, and I told him "I've got a six pack of Switchback" and he said "Switchback is boring" which is one hundred percent accurate (it's also easy drinking and delicious) and then, after a brief interrogation, he convinced to buy some Descender IPA, which he claimed could only be purchased in Oregon and Vermont, and while I don't know about the accuracy of that statement, I will say this: it's delicious, a little bit hoppy, a little bit malty, a little bit floral, and it tastes exactly like the voice from behind the beer said it would taste (he also instructed me to twirl my Switchback in a figure eight for ten seconds before drinking it, to "rouse" the yeast and make the flavor more consistent . . . which is a great tip, because I usually just pour out the bottom of the bottle, because it's so thick with yeast).
The Test 29: Let Freedom Rev (Art History)
In this episode of The Test, I describe famous works of art and the ladies try to identify them-- but things get a bit weird along the way: Stacey shows off a rather odd work of art that she acquired in a rather bizarre way; Cunningham shows off her vast knowledge of Salvador Dali . . . sort of; I forget my middle name; and then things descend into the surreal . . . so give this one a shot, keep score, and watch out for spiders.
Bread and Circuses Defeat Dave's Grouchiness
I wish I could write something more angry and intellectual today-- one of my typical Christmas rants about materialism, environmental devastation, the frivolity of wrapping paper, etc. etc-- but I'm all wrapped up in creating an avatar for our brand new Wii U video game system . . . so, ironically, "bread and circuses" have mollified my usual holiday stance (and we haven't even played Super Smash Bros. yet) or perhaps the applicable maxim here is: if you can't beat'em, join'em . . . and I must admit, I am pretty excited, as I haven't played a video game since I completed every course on the Sega game Road Rash (and was horribly disappointed by how the game just petered out in a weird level full of police, once you were inevitably caught the ending was simply a blocky pixelated error screen).
Serial Acronyms
While season two of Serial is fantastic, and swinging for the fences as far as big journalism goes, it's also a bit more difficult than the first season; this is partly caused by acronym overload, so here's a key to ten of them:
1. DUSTWUN . . . duty status whereabouts unknown;
2. OP . . . observation post;
3. FOB . . . forward operating base;
4. TCP . . . traffic control point;
5. IED . . . improvised explosive device;
6. GI . . . gastrointestinal;
7. MRE . . . meals ready to eat;
8. MRAP . . . mine resistant, ambush protected vehicle;
9. CIA . . . Central Intelligence Agency;
10. PL . . . platoon leader;
and so while you're listening, you have to be prepared for dialogue like this: Bergdahl wanted to get from OP Mest to FOB Sharana, while causing a DUSTWUN, so that his PL would have to contact the FOB, but some of his fellow soldiers, who were already dazed from suffering GI infections because they couldn't wash their hands properly before eating the MRE, thought that he might have been a mole in the CIA, but Bergdahl was hardly that, and though he had a plan to pinpoint where Taliban had planted an IED near the TCP, so that the specialists could drive an MRAP and defuse the IED, he actually just caused a huge SNAFU.
1. DUSTWUN . . . duty status whereabouts unknown;
2. OP . . . observation post;
3. FOB . . . forward operating base;
4. TCP . . . traffic control point;
5. IED . . . improvised explosive device;
6. GI . . . gastrointestinal;
7. MRE . . . meals ready to eat;
8. MRAP . . . mine resistant, ambush protected vehicle;
9. CIA . . . Central Intelligence Agency;
10. PL . . . platoon leader;
and so while you're listening, you have to be prepared for dialogue like this: Bergdahl wanted to get from OP Mest to FOB Sharana, while causing a DUSTWUN, so that his PL would have to contact the FOB, but some of his fellow soldiers, who were already dazed from suffering GI infections because they couldn't wash their hands properly before eating the MRE, thought that he might have been a mole in the CIA, but Bergdahl was hardly that, and though he had a plan to pinpoint where Taliban had planted an IED near the TCP, so that the specialists could drive an MRAP and defuse the IED, he actually just caused a huge SNAFU.
Meta-Bosch
In Michael Connelly's novel Trunk Music, Detective Harry Bosch is in trouble with Internal Affairs (again!) and he is interrogated by a particularly righteous IAD officer, John Chastain, who tells him "I take pride in what I do because I represent the public, and if there is no one to police the police then there is no one to keep the abuse of their wide powers in check," and Harry replies to this with a hall of mirrors type question: "But let me ask you this, Chastain . . . who polices the police who police the police?"
Winter Solstice Miracle!
Let's try to remember that the lesson of this post is that Dave is a Super-Genius (not an idiot) and that The Subconscious of Dave is constantly working to make brilliant connections, however they might manifest themselves; so it was very dark yesterday morning, as we are very close to the Winter Solstice, the moment when the sun is at its most southern declination, resulting in the day with the least amount of sunlight (technically, I think it happened last night, but who cares-- dark is dark, and Monday morning was very dark) and so I was barely able to crawl out of bed when my alarm went off at 5:30 AM . . . and I turned on the light on in the bathroom, cracked the door, and got dressed in that faint sliver of light (so as not to wake my wife) and drove to school in the dark, and then began teaching first period in the dark because first period starts at 7:26; I was teaching Season 2 of Serial-- which is investigating the Bowe Bergdahl desertion and captivity case-- and we were reviewing how a good story promises you certain things, and then hopefully makes good on those promises . . . and one of the main things this season of Serial promises us is a glimpse into Bergdahl's brain, the reason why he ran away from his post into Taliban territory . . . but before I brought up Serial, I talked about the Pixar film Inside Out, which many of the students had seen-- and asked what this film promised . . . which is something very similar to Serial Season 2 . . . Inside Out is very, very ambitious-- as it promises to explain to us how the brain works and why we do certain things, from the inside out (and the film succeeds-- it made me cry . . . poor Bing Bong) and it wasn't until fourth period that I realized what a brilliant connection this was, because not only do Serial Season 2 and Inside Out promise the same thing, they promise it about the exact same kind of decision, as the little girl -- Riley Andersen-- also runs away from where she is supposed to be, and the film illustrates the development and emotional underpinnings of the exact same kind of radical, angry idea, AND HERE'S THE MIRACLE . . . when I thought of this, during first period, I was wearing my gray golf shirt INSIDE OUT . . . it was so dark when I got dressed, and I was so logy, that I put it on with the tag sticking out on the back collar, the buttons on the inside, another tag sticking off the side seam, and I didn't notice, and while no one said anything to me until the period was over-- they said they were too embarrassed to tell me during class, someone must have muttered the words "inside out," as in "our teacher is an idiot, he's wearing his shirt inside out" and that must have led to the wild firing of neurons that me think of the movie and then the astoundingly brilliant Subconscious of Dave went to work, and now I've got this awesome hook to get kids into the new season (and I wore the shirt inside-out for two periods of teaching . . . best Winter Solstice ever!)
Happy Gheorghemas! Your Gift = Seven Books
I've got a really annoying post up at Gheorghe:The Blog today in celebration of The Twelve Days of Gheorghemas . . . I have selected my seven favorite books from the thirty-three books I completed this year-- and that number seems to be par for the course . . . thirty-three books falls right in between my 2013 and 2014 totals, as I read 23 and 46 books in those years, respectively . . . I think if I really put my mind to it in 2016, and choose absolute trash to read (which isn't easy, it's hard to find really compelling trash) then I could possibly finish 50 books in one year . . . or maybe I'll just eat more tacos.
The Test 28: Common Threads?
Another weird and wonderful episode of The Test this week: Stacey administers a menacing word association quiz she calls Common Thread, and Cunningham defeats me-- but her victory is tainted, as she spirals into a morass of self-examination and self-reflective anxiety; other highlights include Stacey's number trouble, a short intervention, God invoking Cliff Clavin, a "speed round," and an ambiguous ending . . . this is a great one to play at home, see if you can do better than me, and if you're really clever, you'll defeat Cunningham as well . . . good luck!
Something to Look Forward To
In the olden days, old people aspired to be wise-- they were the keepers of history, knowledge, and sagacity-- but now, with the rapid pace of technological innovation and change, the best old people can do is keep up, and more often than not, I am certain that they feel defunct, obsolete, and alienated . . . I'm on the cusp of this in my job . . . I'm keeping up with all the new technology-- but just barely-- but I can see how in a few years I'm just going to give up on it all and say "enough is enough" and do things the way I've always done them . . . so here's to the future!
Yours For the Taking
While I generally appreciate leftover beer from a party, someone left two bottles of Traveler Jack-O Pumpkin Shandy in my refrigerator and I am never going to drink them-- in fact, I hate the flavor of pumpkin so much that I don't even think I would cook with this stuff, especially because it is also a "seasonal wheat ale brewed with lemon peel," and I can't stand lemon peel in my beer and wheat ales give me a stomachache; in some ways, I view this beer with awe and admiration, as it is a combination of everything I don't like in a beer in one bottle (maybe I should drink one, if it doesn't kill me, it will certainly make me stronger . . . this beer is literally my taste nemesis) and so I'd just like to put it out there: if anyone wants these, swing by and they're all yours, you can even use one of my chilled pint glasses to quaff them down.
Awkward Dave and the Cheesesteak
Last weekend, we took a road trip to my brother-in-law's new place just outside of Harrisburg, and I wasn't terribly excited about making the trip: the weather was beautiful and I didn't want to spend two and half hours in the car-- and we were driving up Saturday, staying the night, and then driving back Sunday-- and I am loath to admit that I was treating these five hours in the car as an ordeal and my poisonous attitude was driving my wife crazy-- and while I admit my behavior was childish and immature, it was a very long drive-- and then, to add salt to the wound-- we couldn't find a spot to get lunch; fans of Awkward Dave know that I don't operate well in social situations when I'm hungry (I don't operate well in social situations to begin with, but add hunger and things get really ugly) and by the time we finally found a cheesesteak place, waited thirty minutes for them to complete our order, and finished the drive to Eddie and Lisa's place, I was grouchy and ravenous and so when we arrived, I immediately sat down and dug into my cheesesteak, which my brother-in-law completely understood because he knows me, but then Catherine's Aunt approached me-- she was visiting as well-- and I guess she was expecting some kind of formal greeting-- a hug or a kiss or something-- and I vaguely understood this expectation because of the way she was standing there, looming over me, and I started to wipe my hands off, but they were all covered in ketchup and melted cheese, and so I made an executive decision, greeted her verbally and kept eating . . . and then a few minutes later, when I was outside,I noticed that her little dog had escaped the house-- and it was my son's fault-- so I yelled (in a panic) to my son "go tell the owner her dog is loose!" and Catherine's Aunt heard this and apparently she was already offended that I didn't give her a hug when I was eating the cheesesteak, and then was doubly offended that I called her "the owner" instead of her name . . . but things were happening rapidly and I was hungry and tired and nervous that the little dog would get run over by a car, and so things were awkward between us for the rest of the day and she brought it up later in the evening, when everyone had drank a fair bit, and wanted to "clear the air" and we had to hug and then she had the nerve to criticize my hug-- I guess it wasn't emotional enough-- but my brother-in-law reminded her that I "wasn't much of a hugger" and I don't think either of us learned anything from the incident, so in that sense it was very much like a Seinfeld episode.
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