Sentence of Dave

Technology Marches On, Sweeping Dave Along With It

We've got new devices and new LMS (Learning Management Software) this year at my school and it's all making me feel very old: the screens keep getting smaller (now we're all on tablets) and they're threatening to take our desktop computers away (even though I can actually read stuff on that screen and my computer has the only DVD player in the room) and we've replaced the simplicity of Google Classroom-- which is free and seamless with Google docs, Google slides, and YouTube-- with an expensive program (Canvas) where everything is very small and every task requires a lot of clicks . . . I'm hoping I retire before this happens again.

Technology Marches On, Sweeping Dave Along With It

It's Over (Except for the Crying)

Nothing coherent to report: I'm in a befuddled haze from endless first-day-of-school meetings, room preparation, running soccer practice, my older son's botched summer assignments, Taco Tuesday, and an endless argument about how much my kids tipped the barber today for their back-to-school-haircut . . . it looks like the summer is coming to an abrupt close.

It's Over (Except for the Crying)

Mrs. Bridge, Dave, and Socrates Walk into a Bar

I don't know how I missed this one, but Evan S. Connell's 1959 novel Mrs. Bridge is a weird and understated modern classic, funny and sharp, and a good book for me to read as I approach 50 years . . . Mrs. Bridge is a Kansas City country-club-wife and the book details her life and times in 117 vignettes during the years before and after WWII . . . and while the nation is changing, in regards to race, etiquette, social class, and the labor market, Mrs. Bridge remains the same-- and while she has moments where she almost introspects, she always avoids it, and lives the opposite of Socrates' most famous dictum . . . "the unexamined life is not worth living," and while I certainly get why she likes to remain ignorant and blissful, I'm trying to examine my life as I hit the big 50 . . . and I'm making some hard decisions-- fitness-wise, I'm switching from basketball to running (less injuries and I need to get fit, not beat up) and I'm playing a lot more tennis with my kids-- I won't be able to do that forever-- and health-wise, I'm trying to drink less beer (except on holiday weekends) and replace it with tequila and seltzer, which has less calories and doesn't make me gassy: I think these epiphanies would make Socrates proud.

Mrs. Bridge, Dave, and Socrates Walk into a Bar

Summer is Over (Time to Wash Off the Vaseline)

As usual, the greased-watermelon-rugby-polo-challenge signified another summer in the books-- and this was an especially epic summer (a trip to Costa Rica, a lot of soccer and tennis, a couple trips to the beach, and my kids had gainful employment) and an especially epic greased-watermelon-match (which my friend John decided to document, so perhaps this one is coming to a theater near you . . . hopefully his daughter/camerawoman caught the magical moment when I kicked my son Alex in the head) and now it's time to shower off all the petroleum jelly and get ready to enter the work week.

Summer is Over (Time to Wash Off the Vaseline)

Getting Your Money's Worth Will Cost You

My friends were discussing the great museum scene in DC, and how there's no pressure to get your money's worth-- the museums and the zoo are free, so-- as the always sagacious Zman put it: "You can run into the Museum of Natural History for 20 minutes just to see the Hope Diamond, some dinosaurs, and a basilosaurus (and its tiny hip bone) without feeling pressure to get your money’s worth" and I'm a big fan of this-- not getting your money's worth-- as getting your money's worth almost always leads to frustration, injury and disaster; I have no problem leaving sports events and concerts early, to avoid the mad rush and the traffic; when I go snowboarding, I get off the mountain sooner rather than later, because getting your money's worth with a lift ticket leads to fatigue and injuries . . . and when we were in college, we were obsessed with the all-you-can-eat Wendy's Superbar and it led to some supreme gluttony (including a day where we were ostensibly studying for exams, but we started the studying at the all-you-can-eat Shoney's Breakfast Bar, then-- after stuffing ourselves on pancakes, sausage, grits, and French toast-- we took a long nap, then headed back out with our books and our bloated stomachs, and sat for many hours at the Wendy's Superbar, repeating the same charade . . . we got our money's worth and it cost us dearly).

Getting Your Money's Worth Will Cost You

Locke and Key May Be Coming to a TV Near You

It took a while-- in fact, I forgot all about it-- but then something jogged my memory (perhaps someone opened my brain with the head key and fiddled with my consciousness) and I remembered to seek out the rest of the Locke and Key comic book series and the boys and I recently read all six of them, in the nick of time, it turns out, because Netflix is about to release a Locke and Key TV series . . . the comics are compelling and wild, but I should warn you, they are also grisly, disturbing, and totally fucked up; Joe Hill-- Stephen King's son-- did the writing and Gabriel Rodriguez did the art and the combination is chilling and horrific, I hope the series captures the mood, as this is a good one.

Locke and Key May Be Coming to a TV Near You

Dave is More Right (and Almost Modal)

The new episode of Planet Money attempts something ambitious, to determine the "modal American" . . . it's easy enough to find the median or the mean, but the mode-- the most common-- is more difficult because you can't categorize things too large or too small-- there are more women than men, but that seems like too large a category and they had to discount kids-- because kids all fall into all the same categories-- they don't work, they haven't been to college, and they aren't married-- but once they narrowed things down a bit-- they were looking for age, marital status, income, college education or not, race and ethnicity, and where the person lives-- and the solution, spoiler ahead (you might want to listen to the podcast) is surprising and-- for me-- fairly relatable . . . the most common American-- and they are 2 million strong-- is a Gen X married white dude who lives in the suburbs, works full time, does NOT have a college degree and earns (as a household) an upper middle class income . . . they actually talked to a 47 year old guy who fits the categories, he works at a car dealership and is married to a nurse and has one kid and owns some plaid shirts (grunge!) and while I can realte to this guy, the big differences are that he doesn't have a college degree and he lives in the suburbs . . . although the definition of suburban and urban areas are not particularly well-defined and you can really go down a rabbit-hole trying to figure out which areas are urban and which are suburban, even within city limits (Alec, Connell, Paul and I had quite an argument about this on the way to the pub) but if you go by some data compiled by FiveThirtyEight, then Highland Park is definitely urban, as urban areas tend to have more than "2,213 households per square mile" and Highland Park is 1.8 square miles and-- in 2010-- it had 6,200 households and the town's population has grown since then, so while Connell is right to say that Highland Park is the outlying area of a larger city (New Brunswick) and thus sub-urban, I am more right in saying that the density and feel of Highland Park is more urban than suburban.

Dave is More Right (and Almost Modal)

The End of Napping is Nigh

A good end of summer morning today: I got to ride the away bus with both my children and coach them in a JV scrimmage, and then we ate lunch out, but after all the fun and excitement, I took a two hour nap . . . I'm not sure how I'm going to pull off an entire work day next week (unless they work "nap time" into the high school schedule).

The End of Napping is Nigh

Music Review: Proceed with Caution

It's tough to recommend this album with a straight face, but Mannequin Pussy's new one-- "Patience"-- is awesome: fast-paced punk rock with chaotic squalls and compelling lulls . . . and I guess since our Pussy-Grabber-in-Chief brought back the p-word, it shouldn't be as difficult to tell your friends about this one (and the band is mainly females, so I suppose they're using it ironically).

Music Review: Proceed with Caution

Is There a Position Open for Doing This?

My friend Dom, who I just spent a week with at the beach, would like it to be known that-- in addition to his general congeniality, his ability to consume gin/vodka, and his formidable biking stamina-- he has an uncanny knack for identifying 80's songs in two or three notes (even Aldo Nova's "Fantasy").