Voting, Winter, Curry and Saltwater

Mad props to the state of Massachusetts! Yes, there's a lot of cool, ground breaking stuff that you politicos are aware of, like Deval Patrick winning the gubernatorail race, and becoming Mass' first black gubernor, and I believe only the second Af Am gubernor ever, but what you may NOT know, is that MA informs the voters. YES! The candidates will make themselves known, true. Register to vote, though, and they'll send you a pamphlet about the big issues that voters will vote on. Oh yeah, they have voters vote on big issues, like, can we sell alcohol in the grocery store (even though they sort of already do), and should we let child care providers organize into unions and strike! Take note, Pennsylvania!!!

Winter is staying away for a few days more. In fact, the Massachusetts weather has regressed back to early October. It still looks like this in places on the way home from work on sunny afternoons:






The surf has picked up a bit, so much so, that I've been able to get out two days in a row, have passed by 'lesser wave' days, and accordingly have upgraded from Kook to Novice. I have logged at least 12 hours in the water, surfed in three spots and two states. I plan to 'get wet' tomorrow. The waves, from on shore, look different now; the waves in the water look different, too. I now can tell which are teasers, and which will actually take you somewhere. I still have yet to perfect the stance, and must learn to turn. I've done some really mediocre rides, but it's lots of fun...

Here's the back of the place I'm renting:















Here's my board:





Here's the nose of my board:







My board lives in a 9 foot silver bag, indoors; it does not live on my porch, and nobody's boards should. Mine is only outdoors and out of the bag when it's wet, or on the way to or from the water. The white stuff flecked on it is surf wax, the stuff that helps you stick to your deck.

I've done a bunch of dumb stuff like stalled out a wave, pearled the nose of my board killing a potential ride and jettisoned from my board like an Olympic ... something. I've ridden on one or both knees for most rides, but have discovered that this, although not pretty is acceptable, because kneeling is halfway to stance.

I've done some smart stuff, like the above to avoid hitting another surfer, and just as smart, got out of the high tide waters at Egypt beach, which will beat you up and possibly snap your board. No wonder people were leaving the water! That is strictly a low-tide spot, because at high-tide the waters meet a wall of gravel and golfball-sized stones. This with a five to six foot wall of foamy SLOOSH rushing towards you, as the stuff at knee level and below rushes out from under you, churning up the golfballs and gravel, tearing your board away and out of your arms only to throw it back at you (it is attached by a leash at your ankle), and then knowck you over... this is on the way out into the waves, and on your way back in to shore. It should'nt be this hard I thought, and yeah, it shouldn't. Pro's avoid that stuff, because it is hazardous to your board and you!

I bought a winter suit, a 6/5/4 suit of neoprene that you enter and exit from the neck opening. It's like birth. I now have new sympathy for any and every mother, because of the work getting in and out ofsaid suit, and I haven't even been out when the air temp has dropped below fifty yet. You're noticeably buoyant, and with the hood, gloves, booties and suit, only your face is directly exposed to the outside elements. yes, you're wet. It;'s a wetsuit, but your body heats the bit of water that come into your suit pretty quickly. We'll see how i feel aobut all of this come December , January, and February. I'm learning that yes, even the meanest wave will let you go before you run out of breath. I'm learning that swell (noun) is swell (adj), and that wind can make or break a swell.

Curry

This stuff is great, especially if you fry up some meat or tofu, add coconut milk, vegetables, and pinea=pple.

I've now made 365 posts! So obviously if you read one per day for a year, it would take you a year to read everything I ever wrote on my blog. I doubt if anybody will EVER do that. My best and biggest fans (whoever that may be) would read a few at a time, and skip over many... or most.

Last but not least, I've finished the first Quarter without having to send anybody to the office. I've given out a fair share of detentions, made some parent phonecalls, perhaps some parent watch lists, but no ... well, I did break up one fight, and had to write a referral but that was something I stumbled into in the hallways. nobody has been booted from my class to the office yet. Let's hope it goes as well for Quarter 2.

Scituated: Wild Life and the Ocean

I am now in my second month of teaching 7th graders and living in Scituate, MA. Scituate is considered "the Irish Riviera," where a fella like me fits in pretty well around here. I'm the sole winter rental tenant in a beach house, and I'll only be there until June. After that who knows??? So I'm enjoying my time here as best I can. It'd be nice to stay in Scituate somewhere, but I may have to live elsewhere. I'm four or five houses from the seawall, and you can look out from several windows to see the ocean. We have possums and coyotes, too. Neither animal do I have a desire to meet up close. The ocean however is something completely different.

I am now a kook. In some ways you already knew this to be true, but in acquiring a 9 foot Challenger surfboard, I'm taking my kookiness definitions to a new level. Yeah, a blue striped longboard. But wait, isnt the water up there cold, even when it's scorching hot in August? Yes. YES it is. I went down the street and out in the water ten days ago in my swim trunks. Just me, no gear, only white and blue Hawaiian floral print swim trunks. I thought I should know the waters and ho wcold they are before investing in a board. It took three or four cautious minutes to wade out waist deep. Putting my hands in the water was brave, but dropping under a wave and completely submerging... was ... exhilarating! The most awake I've been since April! I was disrobing at the beach, swam, redressed and was back home in fifteen minutes.

Yeah, so I bought a wetsuit. It's blue, too. I picked blue, because black is harder for the divers to see when searching for my corpse on the sea bottom. Just kidding, Mom. :D I won't drown. You can go out to surf in this fall suit, and not be cold until November. That's when you buy gloves. Later, you buy a winter suit. Normally you'd expect 'winter suits' to be a grey tweed, not grey neoprene. You're warm, not fashionable. Current sea temp is about 59 Faherenheit, and will drop ten degrees over the next month. Apparently guys in New England like to send their Californian and Hawaiian surf friends photos of themselves in the water, on their boards, while it's snowing. We'll see what I can post for you.

In my suit, I feel like Mr. "Hero-in-Training": not quite competent enough for the cape, not yet deserving of the cowl or mask. My accesories are booties. Split toe. They insulate and protect your feet from cold and rocks. Walking out onto the land, the sealed-in water drips inside of my suit, pooling at my ankles. It's sealed in, so I feel like I'm wearing some grandma's ankle-bunching pantyhose. Again, one is warm, not fashionable.

Then there's the kids who think you are Kelly Slater or Jack Johnson. Both are great surfers, surf heroes even. One is also a national recording artist. One kid asks in genuine amazement, "How do you guys do it?" Really, I'm too embarrassed to tell him the truth: I'm lucky if I get a wave, and then luckier if can kneel or stand on it. Some day I'll learn how to turn. Yes, yes... how do I do it? Then there's the creepy kid who giggles and stares at you, standing at your car, peeling off your suit. His aunts chime in, "Leave the man alone. Don't bother him. He doesn't want to ride in your stroller."

Ahh ... the wildlife I have met up close though have been jelly snails. I dunno what they're called for real, but they are clearand have snail-like antennae. I was sitting atop my board at Nantasket this past Columbus Day when I noticed the funky feeling water had thousands of some transparent, snot-looking, shell-less snails floating. Everywhere. They must be spawning. And of course there's the Cohasset Sevvie. So much, really, of why I am here. I am learning as much about these odd creatures as they are learning from me. I'm saving the best bits to share with them for last. Bits like, I'm learning to surf, and I have removable teeth. Save something for later in the year. The teeth must wait until after Christmas break...

Ahhh... the sweet smell of "I don't have to live in limbo anymore!"
You can expect an update about that. Soon. It involves teaching 7th graders in Massa-chewbacca.

Until then, I must return to reading more student "I Am" poems. Some memorable lines so far:

"I am the girl who lives at the barn."
"I am a gleaming microwave who is kind to others."
"I am a wonderful sailboat."
"I am a tree hugger who believes writing poetry in school kills creativity."
"I am a clever dog owned by a 95 year-old woman."

And speaking of poetry...

A look back some four years with a nod to Mike Melczak:

Nov. 13, 2002
From mike melczak:

a poetry

The Toy Maker

a toy-maker made a toy wife and a toy child. he made a toy house

and some toy years.

he made agetting-old toy, and he made a dying toy.

the toy-maker made a toy heaven and a toy god.

but, best of all, he liked making toy shit.

russel edson, 1976


OK, so who is Russel Edson? Is he for real? yes . . . although I had to ask Mr. Google, because one never knows for sure with melczak, he's crafty like that. I think he likes to keep us on our toes. :)

Oh if only I could share that one withthe sevvies. Look for a pun filled update soon!

A Poetry that has nothing at all to do with...

... will*I*am eS*P*y

"Prometheus in Wonderland"

Father showed, in front of me,
While mother's stove and frontispiece
Gently spoke so she'd believe
That this advice that I do speak
Is truly liveTV: "I come in peace."

"I did invent the morning star!", claims he,
Whose name's known near and far.
As flames did lick the kitchen wall, mother heeded
Helping call. Father said, "See here, it's writ.
T'was Zeke, the one who'd invented it!"

I was scared and unprepared.
There you are...

No matter where you go, from king's front porch,
It's bound to show, to neighbor's court you'll see it's glow.
Those girls atop the steps could quote,
Each, every line that spear shakers wrote
To scrub men's hearts free of fear, you know.

It slipped,
It fell,
And the sun shone on.

In love and battle
These stones on flowers thrown,
These flowers on stones thrown
Men whose bones and broken groans
Now lie beneath all that's above.

And I believe that it was Love,
Not, "No more push and shove,"
That did invent the morning star.

Shine On You Crazy Diamond: Syd Barrett, Founder of Pink Floyd Dies at 60

The article is brief, well written but has a significant error, much to the chagrin of Roger Waters: he's not mentioned as a founding member, or as being a member of Pink FLoyd at all.
ERROR: Paragraph 3, Sentence 1 - "Barrett co-founded Pink Floyd in 1965 with David Gilmour, Nick Mason and Rick Wright, and wrote many of the band's early songs."

Guitarist David Gilmour was not a co-founder of the band, but in fact replaced Barrett, as mentioned later in the article.

Roger Waters, co-founder of the band, is not mentioned at all.

David Gilmour "apparently" - ahem - replaced himself. True, Waters was not as big a talent as Gilmour, but his lyrics are significant, and he's mostly responsible for the Wall album. Please research a bit more carefully, Jill Lawless.

But there'd be no band without Syd. His solo albums aren't too bad. Especially if you like songs about octopusses and carnivals.... Shine On You Crazy Diamond!

Compulsory Letter Home and Email Home and Stuff: From Camp


Come on man, give me my stuff. I mean come on, man... give me my stuff.

OK, so this is the part where some of us remember Summer Camp, or some likeness there of, be it a fat lip or a dumpster full of sweet stuff that... stunk. We like it an' love it but summer camp, was ...

Regardless of the above opinion, I gotta let folks know that I'm glad to see the Homestar Runner crew keeping up with Ice Creams an' and What-nots, fulfilling my summertime needs and finally updating... a thing that they do for... fun.
OK, no sorry stuff, but I waited a long time for what I knew not I was Waiting for but it was like waiting for the rain to end at camp and stuff in the summer and then it finally came with all the potatos and gravy wrestling good ness.... and i ho[pe it stops raining at Camp.

Love your kid; Me

Compulsory Letter

Just a brief note to say hey and stuff. Still on the campaign against the Japanese Knotweed, still on the prowl for Boston English Teacher jobs. Been over a month since a Homestar Runner update, and I'm a bit worried that there is trouble in Strongbadia...

Recent goings on of note: Mad props to Joe DJH Lights for scoring me a ticket to see August Wilson's Gem of the Ocean at the Public. I enjoyed the show and thank you, Joe!

Trip to Buckeye Lake with the lady to visit Kurt Kumler and Kim at heir place on the water, with a little Mikey Mel action thrown in for good measure. We had a great time soaking in the hot tub, swimming around the lilly pads, sipping cervezas, eating guacamole, salsa, steak, bagel breakfast sandwiches, and a cool motor-boat ride around the lake. Good luck with moving to Lexington, KY, kids!

Neighborhood Dish: Apparently a late night or early morning (4AM-ish) shouting fight last week between undisclosed neighbor and his GF, following several alco-bevs, led to GF speeding out of driveway in reverse. GF took car over embankment, onto sidewalk five feet below hitting telephone pole. GF becomes angry when (surprise) car will not move from spot. Neighbor male comes out to continue shouting fight, now armed with new proof of GF's incompetence as driver. Tow truck, fire truck and police vehicles arrive, and amazingly no persons or vehicles are hurt. Question remains as to how GF avoided intoxication charges and if relationship still remains intact. I suspect, "yes," relationship intact still, and rhetorical prowess responsible for dodging fines etc. Let it be known that I heard and witnessed NONE of the above things, but heard them from a reliable source who may have. Before I slept that night, said neighbors were laughing on their porch, and while I slept, airconditioning in my room provided sweet white noise to drown out any horrible sounds.

May both of them never read this post, but always drive safely.

Until next time, Hey and stuff.

Father's Day is this Sunday, June 18. Perhaps that's part of what has me thinking about my Dad a good bit now, perhaps it was shaving, the new soap I showered with or the smells that are the medicine cabinet. But who knows? Who knows?

There's a long list of things I'd like to talk about with my Dad. Given that it's June, we may have met for brunch at Skidgy's or Tom's Diner. We may have sat on the back porch at the house, have some iced tea, maybe have a cold beer. I'm looking for work at some high schools in Boston, I'd tell him, getting ready (in my head) to move North. Perhaps because my family has spread out across the nation now, it'll be easier to move. Spread out? Well now especially so, since you're gone. Anyways, I'm still on my campaign against the Japanese Knotweed. You've seen this bamboo-like stuff everywhere. I'd describe it and Dad and I would talk about this plant, and he'd commend me for tackling weeds along the sidewalks in my neighborhood. We'd talk about manual labor, and how sometimes, good hard work is really enjoyable. He'd ask if I wore sunscreen, a hat and shades to protect me from the sun. When I would tell him I skipped the sunscreen, he'd either remind me where to find some (in the medicine cabinet) or have me wait while he got some to give me. We'd share memories about being in Scouts, Order of the Arrow , and we'd talk about Scouts. We may not talk much about when he was Scoutmaster, the late years of my scouting when I had steady girlfriends and a job in high school. He would never ride me for not getting Eagle, but would smile to himself knowing we both reached Star, the rank just below Eagle, both of us just a few badges shy of the mark. I'd tell him how some students of mine that I really enjoy teaching are OA and Eagle scouts. He'd laugh and laugh.

I'd ask Dad about the war in Iraq, which may or may not lead to Army stories. My favorite is the one about the head case who kept a handgrenade in his foot locker, and then would tell people he'd stick it under their bunk if he didn't like you. He didn't like anybody. Half of what made the story fun was Dad's imitation of the guy's idiot-speak... and his conclusion that some people are just never gonna be bright. I'd ask him about the changes in the Catholic church: he'd be bothered by the gay bishops and female priests, so I'd try to focus more on his take about the prayers and the mass being reworded in parts. On this, I really have no idea what he'd say. He may think it good, because the new wordings are supposed to be closer to the original Latin. He may track down the text, and translate himself. Or he'd say he'd like to do that, and may or may not find the time. or he may think it's best to leave well enough alone. I'd keep want to keep this whole part short, though, because it often lead to heavy discussions, and I'd remind him that ultimately, it's gonna be alright. All things work out for a reason, even if we don't understand them. And then we'd move to lighter fare...

We'd talk about gardening, Volkswagens, piano playing and the girl I'm dating. He'd ask about my old roommates, Mike and Curt, and those friends of mine he heard about. Yeah, pretty much the stuff I talk about with anybody, but I would sure appreciate having one of our "bullshit-sessions."

I miss my Dad and wish I could talk with him more. I don't have to send him a card or get him a tie, or powertool or some little dumb thing now. He appreciated those gestures, but was just more into talking. And that's what I would really like for him on Father's Day. So give your Dad a call, if he's still around, and chat him up a bit. He'll appreciate it. Happy Father's Day.

School is out for Summer! Which is awesome, because that means no 5:30 AM phone calls "to come in for work today." It wasn't really as big of a deal as you might think, but I do prefer knowing when I am working, so that I can plan accordingly. The person who did the calling for KO was always always always super cool. And so was the person from WT.

Now... the trick is finding work for the summer, and then work for the fall in Boston. Summer work will be far easier, especially since I don't have to do distance searching or online searching. In the meantime, I'll be catching up on some necessary summer reading: THe Piano Player, The Crucible, Streetcar Named Desire, just to name a few plays, let alone books. Anyone seen Gem of the Ocean yet? I hope to catch that sometime soon...

I want this post to go the way of the dodo bird, with all of the accompanying fanfare of birthday whistles and party favors. Ya know when you party on those days when you don't care what people are doing, as long as they have fun. So... I've heard from a few troubled birds that they need to see an update.

No, I won't promise that I'll write more often.

I've trashed the Canadians, and rightfully so if you 've seen a Hip show. the Hip play the Arts Festival here in rainy pgh june 16. Pray for few Canadians. No doubt,I know some cool Canucks, and yeah, those guys are awfully polite, but wait until you see some of them go CrAZy for Gordon Downie and the Hip . . . I dig Gordon Downie's solo work a lot. I mean I admire his craft and his mood and his goals and shortcomings and every inch of everyday humanity he dares to sink into a song lyric. "Don't tell me what the poets are saying." but when do people trash the place that Rufus Wainwright is playing? ... Right....

The concept is as foreign to me as imagining living life as the Elephant Man. I can think of no band that so stirs up a crowd, and given such lyrical content that's about peace and brotherhood... you may as well figure the thing out for yourself... Crazy Canucks. Go try and figure out 'what the girls call murder.' Puzzled? ask Liz Phair...

Sequitur Non gratis: I am moving to Boston. The situation seems obvious from all of the signs and indications that it's time to go. you've reached the circus finale, and time to try on the top hat in a different ring. Now it's time to find some work up there. I may need a kick here and there, to search out the sweet euphoria, and leave the lost days of yon ... What really matters is holding on to those people who make you shine. I know, I know, it sounds like so many lines from those leaden heroes who are tired of this and that... but they don't forget the other. I ask you to look on, to look all the way thru all of the flame, through the stone chords and the sad songs, and hold on to that which makes us shine: Love.

This past week has been a week of significant change for me and many significant people in my life. My Mom has sold her home and is moving to Texas. It's kind of odd to think that folks I don't know are now living in the house I grew up in. I am taking care of Bailey (the family cat) while she's away shopping for a new domicile, i.e. house, so that's pretty cool.

I started rehearsals for 'Pygmalion' this past weekend. I play the very important role of 'Bystander,' whose Cockney lines should prove quite fun. Show opens the first weekend of June, so come see it!

My friend Kurt Kumler successfully defended his PhD dissertation Friday, and thus has completed his PhD at Duquesne. Be sure not to ask him for empirical evidence proving that music is transformational, however, as that may earn you a swift kick in the shin.

My buddy Ted (remember Ted?) has finished his student teaching for the PY program at Pitt. He's where I was exactly one year ago, thinking, "I really need to find some work now: four or five months with no income sucks."

Last but not least, my girl has decided to attend Emerson University in Boston next fall. And because she's pretty cool, and Pittsburgh's English teacher job market is super-saturated, it's quite likely that I will be looking for an amazing school to hire me in the Boston area. My leaving would mean that my sister would be he only one of my family left in Pittsburgh, or more likely, she'll move to Texas,too, and I'll be the last one out. Rotten egg prospects are looking good.

I will be keeping you posted on the news there, don't worry.

Beautiful accidents lay all around us, waiting to be discovered. It was not by design that my last post was about Josh Seybert, and this one leads with my catching up with him and Jessie. In response to my most recent post, I finally got to catch up with Josh and Jessie this past weekend, and much merriment was to be had. Josh, the lizard I mentioned sits atop my monitor awaiting the day it will accompany the other toys in Jacob's ... store of toys.

In other news, I am compelled to share some musings on a long awaited viewing of the movie Bob Roberts, written by and starring Tim Robbins. This movie holds a unique place in my memory as it came out the year that I graduated from high school. It also has numerous clips that were shot in and around my high school while I attended classes at Mt. Lebanon. I distinctly remember walking by the auditorium and hearing music being played within on several occasions (the doors shut and locked, of course) as scenes were being shot. Students were not allowed access to the auditorium during filming. It was an honor of course, to have a Hollywood movie filmed at our school, but also kind of boring, because it was about politics, a Senatrial candidate. After 14 or so years, I finally took it upon myself to watch said movie and was delighted to see a few cameo appearances of some familiar faces, all of which surround the now famous Jack Black. Black played the bit part of a right-wing fanatic of sorts, but is unmistakable with his distinctive crazy-eyed look... clearly why he was cast in the role he played. Honorable mentions go out to Aimee Kane and Brian Gerich (I assume this is the correct identical twin brother) who appear in an auditorium crowd shot with Jack Black behind them, and to Andy Szsefi, who as a Penn State protester is shoved by Jack Black, accusing Szefi "You're all communists" or something of the like. I remember hearing about both scenes shortly after they were filmed, and though pleased with being in a movie, to their credit I suppose, none of the above mentioned people seemed exceptionally impressed with cameo-appearance-fame. Hex, it took me more than ten years to even watch the movie. By association, I am once again separated by one or two degrees from celebrity. Other 6-degree notables in my realm include Kim Zelonis, Jill Sobule and Leon Redbone. But instead of dwelling on flukish, superfluous fame associations, I think it is worth noting to the patient reader that Bob Roberts is worth checking out. It certainly holds relevance to those of us who remember the first U.S. engagement in Iraq, as certain significant dates (Jan 15, 1991) are echoed, and it raises consciousness to those issues we can point out in the current Iraq situation. These you should already be familiar with, gentle reader. But isn't it interesting to see these concerns raised, however marginal they may have been at the time of filming some 14 or 15 years ago, and think of how they are relevant today? Likewise, this week I watched a documentary about T.E. Lawrence, or Lawrence of Arabia as we know him, and found that these issues again surface. In apology, these items were disconnected in tehir interest to me, but connections are present nonetheless.

Thus the compulsion to write. As I will tell any one of my friends or students, there appear a great number of beautiful accidents to assist us in life. Knowing no more of the parallels or connections, prior to seeing them, between these two films (Bob Roberts and the PBS Special on Lawrence of Arabia) than the connections between
questions 4 and 9 (one directly beneath the other)in a 5th grade Math text book explaingin how to convert fractions to decimals and vice versa, there are beautiful accidents (?) awaiting discovery right in our midst. In parting, I leave you with two challenges:

1.) I challenge you to look for and to share these beautiful accidents with others.

2.) Consider the repetition of messages thorughout history, consider the infinite memory of God, how he keeps inventory of our every hair and every hair of our thought at each moment, and the incredible catalog of lists that must go with that task. If you beleive in an afterlife, let's hope it's not a bureacratic one, eh?

I haven't heard from Josh Seybert for a while, and I need to get in touch with that man. Especially when I see stuff like this Of Montreal show that airs on KCRW Morning Becomes Eclectic today. These guys had some really cool stuff in their early albums, Cherry Peel being my favorite, and then some still cool but kookier things happening on Coquelicot.

This weekend I went up to Seven Springs with Barb, Dennis, and Marty and taught Meredith how to snowboard... more or less. She did alright, but in retrospect, I should've taught her to ski FIRST and then taught her to snowboard, because she would've been more comfortable on the slopes. I forgot about my initial adjustment period to downhill winter sports. Oh, and it would've been easier, too if we had both gotten a good night's rest the night before instead of staying up late and stuff. Plus, there would've been more people for her to get tips from as well.

Next time, next time ...

Part of the Boston trip included a visit to the Museum of Fine Arts. One of the first exhibits we saw was the Egyptian and Nubian Hall, which was of particular interest to me becaue I had just covered a history class at Winchester Thurston where the 6th graders reviewed and then tested on Egypt and Nubia. The answer to the extra credit question, "What did the Egyptians and Nubians store mummified organs in?" was Canpopic Jars.

I have visited the MFA a couple of times before, and each time, look forward to seeing this girl I have a crush on: Jean-Baptiste Greuze's Young Woman in a White Hat

Something about her that's just sizzling hot.

Other cool stuff included some pieces in the "Degas to Picasso" Exhibit by Egon Shiele, Bertold Loeffler, Stuart Davis and Ditha Moser. Maybe someday I'll have tons of money, will retire early, and can do a few studies in art history.

Detroit AIrport

For any of you lucky enough to be heading to Detroit this weekend, be sure to go from concourse A to C, or verse-vice-a. It's so worth it, because... there's a huge curve-roofed corridor, the length of a football field, with ambient music and trippy lights on the walls. It may be the most exciting thing in thier airport. Even more so than the red tram that runs the length of the airport. Oh yeah, there's Super Bowl XL stuff EVERYWHERE. Go Steelers!

The trip to Boston (with layovers in Detroit) was good. This included my first Billy Joel concert, a visit to Grendel's Den in Cambridge for lunch and a cold Cambridge Amber (one of the best in North America).
One thing that struck me, is a physical similarity between Billy Joel (here pictured with Bill Clinton) and Anders (here pictured with Jill Sobule (who has a Kevin Bacon number of 2).





All you need to do is buzz your hair really short, and trim the beard to a goatee, Anders, and you got a strong resemblance. More so than the Anthony Hopkins playing Col. William Ludlow in Legends of the Fall.

Things I'm looking forward to seeing in the next week to ten days:

1. Blog entry from Shawn Kirk describing his status as a super enthusiastic Steelers fan living in Seattle Sea Hawk territory (that's still Seattle proper, right Shawn?). I know Shawn has gone to great lengths to ensure seeing the Steelers play. He came to mind as soon as I learned Seattle is meeting us at the Super Bowl.

2. Blog entry from Curt Connolly about the Steelers, perhaps including a description of an upcoming trip to Las Vegas to watch the Super Bowl with his folks? maybe a rant about Myron Cope?

3. A trip this weekend to Boston, MA, to visit a couple of schools where the little woman is interested in taking Masters programs.

4. Going skiing or snow boarding for the first time this winter, next weekend, weather provided. Winter has been such a slacker around here so far this year (which is OK if you're not a skier), what with several January days with temps in the '50s and even '60s. You'd think it was March or April.

5. Working on and finshing at leeast the initial recording of a handful of songs I've been sitting on a while. I want to help my buddy Marty get some of his stuff down too, we do a sort of a symbiotic musical suppport on each other's songs.

It's so important to have things that you look forward to doing or seeing or enjoying. What are you looking forward to?

Occasionally you get a nudge from the world, asking you to do something. Say, feed your neighbors fish. Occasionally, there is an accompanying insistence or urgency that comes with it. Say, go feed your neighbors fish now, because the fish hasn't eaten since yesterday, and those other things you're thinking about doing now, you can do later. Sometimes you follow these nudges, and sometimes you ignore them. Today, I followed the nudge...
I fed Mr. Mish (the fish), as I have done earlier, and waited to go see the man about the horse. Feed the fish, if it gets overwhelming, use the neighbors plumbing; and that's what happened. After wasihng my hands, I peaked in the stack of travel, fitness and such magazines, and saw a book: Ellen Langer's The Power of MINDFUL Learning. As a teacher, I am interested in discovering ideas about learning, education and approaches to understanding the learning process. I like finding new ways to think, especially those that engage the imagination. Because the back cover praise for the book suggests that Langer's ideas apply to realms outside of education as well, I borrowed the book. It wasn't until after I finished the introduction (and of course, fed Mr. Mish), that I noticed the cover picture resembled a Magritte painting. This discovery just doubled my interest. Author's typically have some say, if not the authoritative say about their cover art, so if Langer is a fan of Magritte or Surrealism, she should prove interesting to read. I have had an ongoing fascination with Surrealism, and a growing fondness for Magritte and you can expect to find something here in the future relating Rene Magritte and Stanley Kubrick... have a beer with me if you can't wait for the details. But the artist was somebody unknown to me: Rafal Olbinski (pronounce ol-BEEN-skeeh, common misspellings: rafel olbinski, rafal olbniski, rafel olbniski).

I haven't read enough of Langer to offer my opinion yet, although there is a link here to a brief summary. but I can recommend that you check out the artwork of Rafal Olbinski. Unwittingly, you probably have already, as his works have appeared on the covers of several major magazines like Time, Newsweek, and others. Magritte's influence on his work is clear.