Scheiss Weekly

Scheiss Weekly Has Moved!

2008-08-03T01:35:00.001-04:00

All the cool kids seemed to be moving their blogs to their own domains, so I did it, too! I'm such a follower!

You can find Scheiss Weekly HERE, so please update your blogrolls and readers thusly. I don't want to lose any of you!

Love,
--Mamacita

Quotation Saturday

2008-08-02T23:15:00.003-04:00

Where did last week go? Finals Week always whisks by quickly, but it seems like five minutes ago it was Monday and now it's already time for Quotation Saturday! I haven't had a moment to catch two breaths in a row yet! With almost three weeks before fall semester starts up, I'm hoping to get some sleep and do some serious cleaning.

Here we go: Quotation Saturday!

1. He who limps still walks. --Stanislaw Lee

2. Sadness is almost never anything but a form of fatigue. --Andre Gide

3. Look at the stone cutter, hammering away at his rock, perhaps a hundred times without as much as a crack showing in it. Yet, at the hundred-and-first blow it will split in two, and I know it was not the last blow that did it, but all that had gone before. --Jacob A. Ris

4. You manage things; you lead people. --Grace Murray Hopper

5. No matter how cynical you get, it is impossible to keep up. --Lily Tomlin

6. How is it possible to find meaning in a finite world, given my waist and shirt size? --Woody Allen

7. The man who has ceased to learn ought not to be allowed to wander around loose in these dangerous days. --M.M. Coady

8. The only thing that overcomes hard luck is hard work. --Harry Golden

9. Experience has taught me this: that we undo ourselves by impatience. Misfortunes have their life and their limits, their sickness and their health. --Michael de Montaigne

10. Did you hear about the dyslexic satanist? He sold his soul to Santa. --anon

11. Did you hear about the guy who lost his left arm and left leg in a car crash? He's all right now. --anon

12. Life begets life. Energy creates energy. It is by spending oneself that one becomes rich. --Sarah Bernhardt

13. Not only is life a bitch, but it is always having puppies. --Adrienne Gusoff

14. He who backbites an absent friend, who does not defend him when others find fault, who can pretend what he never saw, who cannot keep secrets entrusted to him, this man is a dangerous individual. Beware of him. --Horace

15. Books are. . . the symbol and presage of immortality. The dead are scattered, and none shall find them, but behold! they are here. --H.W. Beecher

16. The bigot for the most part clings to opinions adopted without investigation, and defended without argument, while he is intolerant of the opinions of others. --Charles Buck

17. Good nonsense is good sense in disguise. --Josh Billings

18. There is something in our minds like sunshine and the weather, which is not under our control. When I write, the best things come to me from I know not where. --G.C. Lichterberg

19. Of the world as it exists, one cannot be enough afraid. --T.W. Adorno

20. Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow; it empties today of its strength. --Doris Rodriguez

21. You can't expect to win unless you know why you lose. --Benjamin Lipson

22. If you lose the power to laugh, you lose the power to think. --Clarence Darrow

23. Any nation that thinks more of its ease and comfort than its freedom will soon lose its freedom; and the ironical thing about it is that it will lose its ease and comfort too. --W. Somerset Maugham

24. You will never find time for anything. If you want the time, you must make it. --Charles Buxton

25. Nostalgia is to have a deep longing for a place you wouldn't move back to. --anon

26. One of the weaknesses of our age is our apparent inability to distinguish our needs from our greeds. --Don Robinson

27. Nothing is often a good thing to do and always a clever thing to say. --Will Durant

28. It is not true that nice guys finish last. Nice guys are winners before the game even starts. --Addison Walker

29. Never take a "no" from someone who is not empowered to say "yes." --Unknown

30. Don't let an old negative person creep into your body. ---Beverly T. Glassberg

31. Let's face the obvious. Yesterday we were nerds. Today we are the cognitive elite. Let's conquer. --Chester G. Edwards

32. To me, nature is everything that man is born to, and art is the difference he makes in it. --John Erskine

33. The great nations have always acted like gangsters, and the small nations like prostitutes. --Stanley Kubrick

34. Let us never negotiate out of fear, but let us never fear to negotiate. --J.F.K.

35. Jesus throws down the dividing prejudices of nationality, and teaches universal love, without distinction or race, merit, or rank. A man's neighbor is everyone that needs help. --John Cunningham Geikie

36. Help thy brother's boat across, and lo! Thine own has reached the shore. --Hindu proverb

37. When I give a man an office, I watch him carefully to see if he is swelling or growing. --Woodrow Wilson

38. Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative. --Oscar Wilde

39. He that never changes his opinions, never corrects his mistakes, and will never be wiser on the morrow than he is today. --Tryon Edwards

40. One of the commonest ailments of the present day is premature formation of opinion. --Kin Hubbard

41. Nine-tenths of wisdom is being wise in time. --Theodore Roosevelt

42. There are a number of things wrong with Washington. One of them is that everyone has been too long away from home. --Eisenhower

43. When I walk with you, I feel as if I had a flower in my buttonhole. --William Makepeace Thackeray.

44. When your mind is already made up that you're being singled out for persecution, reading between the lines will only substantiate your misconception and make you look like a fool. --Anon

45. Some women grow old gracefully - others wear stretch pants. --Robert Devlin

46. He who wonders discovers that this in itself is wonder. --M.C. Escher

47. A person who is quick to recommend a psychiatrist for others might do well to look in the mirror. --Unknown

48. The mystical thing is not HOW the world is, but THAT it is. --Ludwig Wittgenstein

49. Water which is too pure has no fish. --Ts'ai Ken T'an

50. Be not too quick to judge, lest you forget to add your own actions to the calculation, thereby rendering your first impression inaccurate. --Anon.

My mother's birthday is Tuesday, but my sisters are coming down tomorrow and we're having a little party for her then, so Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you.

I'm also looking forward to seeing my sisters. I don't always agree with them, but I will always love them, whether they like it or not.

It's nice to have my blog back again after being labeled "spam" and disabled by Blogger for two days. However, this was the last straw, and I'm in the process of moving this blog. As soon as this process is complete, I'll put the new url on this blog and then forevermore keep myself only unto the new domain. Nothing will change except the url, so be ready to update Scheiss Weekly's address in your blogrolls and readers.

I have slept most of today away. I didn't realize that I was so completely worn out. I do that all the time; you know, run on energy pulled out of nowhere, and then collapse. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Perfect Post, July 2008: Steve Spangler

2008-08-01T00:01:00.001-04:00

I am nominating Steve Spangler's "How The Mentos Geyser Works" for a July Perfect Post Award.

All over YouTube there are videos of people dropping Mentos into big bottles of Diet Coke and running away screaming with laughter as the liquid shoots high into the sky like a, well, geyser. Old Faithful, indeed! Steve Spangler's Mentos Geyser is more fun than fireworks, and a LOT less expensive!

Item: Although there are several people claiming ownership of the Mentos Geyser concept, let it be known that the Mentos Geyser was first done by Steve Spangler.

My kids and some of their friends did the Mentos Geyser experiment in my back yard last weekend, which is why I ran Nathen's clothes through the washer and dryer, which is why I took his driver's license out of his pant's pocket and put it on top of the dryer behind the bottle of stain remover, which is why he put on his clean pants and left the license on the dryer, which is why he couldn't find his license the other day which is why he tore his apartment apart searching, which is why he and my daughter drove all the way back down here again yesterday to get it, which is why he got first dibs on being the driver for his trip down to Georgia, beginning this morning.

A lot of people like to do the Mentos Geyser experiment, but not everybody knows the reason why it works. After they read Steve Spangler's blogpost, they will!

Thank you again, Kimberley and Lindsay, for thinking up the Perfect Post Awards, and for encouraging us all to pat someone on the back each month by awarding him/her this honor.

There was one big bottle of Diet Coke left over after the bonfire/cookout/Mentos Geyser party, so I drank it.

No apologies here, and it was soooooo good.

P.S. Someone, and I'm not telling who, dug the Mentos out of the bottom of the Diet Coke bottle after the geyser and ate them, and the rumor mill tells me they were even better than before.

P.P.S. It might not have been me. There were many others at the party. Did you see me do it? Then you don't really know for sure who it was, do you.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Northern Rockies Folk Festival

2008-07-31T23:26:00.001-04:00

If any of you plan to attend the Northern Rockies Folk Festival, please clap extra loud for Steelhead Redd, the band that opens on Friday night at 5:00.

That's my baby brother on the bass.

Clap for all the bands. Just, you know, be extra enthusiastic about Steelhead Redd. Buy the cd, too, but only if you ~~have fantastic musical taste~~ want to.

Thank you.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Ask Me Nicely First

2008-07-31T12:39:00.001-04:00

Are your child's toys his/her very own? Do you allow your child to think that her toys belong to her?

Or are you just letting your child play with them while maintaining ownership yourself?

I am what might euphemistically be called "middle-aged" now, but there are some things that still bother me, a LOT.

I was the oldest of four kids, and nothing ever really belonged to me, even when I bought it with my own money. I was forced to share it all, and it didn't even matter if I was home. If a sibling wanted to play with it, or wear it, or eat it, the sibling got it.

Even as a child, I was very careful with "my" things. Santa brought me a doll every Christmas, and those dolls are, as I type, residing on the top shelf of my closet, as pristine as dolls that old could possibly be. Some of them, however, bear the marks of not-as-careful-as-I forced borrowings.

I still have my Tiny Thumbelina doll, but she stopped moving after less than a year because a visiting cousin, who threw a fit for her, was allowed by Mom to play with her. My cousin's idea of playing was far different than mine, and it didn't take her long to overwind the doll and therefore break her, forever. My opinion of that cousin is still colored by that example of her nature. I was a careful child, and I adored things with keys, such as music boxes. I was extremely careful with such things, and I dreaded having company who brought their kids, because my parents always made me bring out the very things that I loved best, and that were the most easily broken, and watch strange kids play with them roughly and usually break them. If I protested, or cried when it happened, Mom or Dad would give me the routine "Shame on you; don't be selfish!" speech, which didn't ring true even back then and still doesn't. If you know someone, whatever their age might be, is going to break it, why would you MAKE the owner of it just hand it over?

Unless, of course, the child isn't really the owner at all. That would only work if the PARENT actually owned the toy, wouldn't it. Aha!

I know that Mom didn't like it when our toys were mishandled by visiting kids, but her kind heart and generous nature wouldn't let her be anything but sharing, even when it was OUR things that were being shared.

Some adults are horrified when a child doesn't want to 'share' certain toys, but I'm not. Kids can usually sense when another kid is going to be careful or not, and frankly, it's only common sense to NOT allow a careless, rowdy kid to play with anything that's fragile or special, such as a beloved doll or other toy. Embarrassed parents who then FORCE a child to hand it over are not doing anybody any favors. Parents of careless kids who break everything they touch have no business expecting someone else's child to willingly hand over a favorite toy only to have it torn to pieces before their very eyes. "Well, they sure don't make 'em like they used to!" is NOT a good response when your kid breaks another kid's toy. "Oh, that's all right, don't worry about it!" is likewise not a good response when some kid breaks your kid's favorite toy.

It's wonderful to have a sharing, giving, generous nature, but a person can still have that while using common sense. No child should EVER be required to share beloved toys with another kid. Bring out the box of blocks, or the tinkertoys, or something that's usually shared anyway and that ISN'T precious and kept pristine and beloved. Unbreakables are good for sharing with an unknown quantity, or with a quantity you KNOW is going to be rough with it. I'm all for sharing, really, but I'm completely against REQUIRED sharing, and a child should get to choose which toys he/she wants to share and which ones are to be kept on the shelf when company comes.

I considered that my kids' toys belonged to THEM. If we had company with kids, I shut and locked my kids' bedroom doors, unless they were there, in person, to give or not give permission to enter. As long as the toys were put away, they did not belong to me. I had given them away to someone else - my children - and only the owners could say what happened to them. I had - and still have it - a huge box of sharing toys, and there is some pretty cool stuff in there. But my kids' most precious toys? Nobody touched them without permission from that child. They belonged to that child. I bought or made them, and then I gave them away. Once you "give" something, it then belongs to the one who received it. Once you "give" something, your rights over its use have been passed to someone else.

Of course, if, after several days' warning, those same toys were still on the floor, pieces scattered, they became mine again, and my kids didn't like what I did with them. But that was their own fault.

Perhaps it's because modern kids have so many toys, that the concept of a few precious toys has gone its merry way. But I'd bet money, if I had any, that even a modern kid has a toy or two that's extra-special, and that he/she would really prefer NOT to have to share with just anybody.

Sometimes, when I'm looking in my closet, I'll gaze at Tiny Thumbelina and remember the days when she still moved. And I know that if I hadn't been forced to hand her over to that wild, destructive cousin, she would still be ~~alive~~ moving today.

Kids desperately need things of their very own, that are undebatably THEIRS, that can not be touched without permission, EVER. I used to find my only respite in my school supplies, which lived in my desk in my classroom. At school, if you helped yourself to someone else's stuff, you were correctly labeled a thief. Now, of course, even at school there is no possibility to learn pride of possession, because in most classrooms the teacher makes everybody dump their school supplies in community buckets. This is catastrophically wrong. It would have finished me off for good, I think. A child with no absolute possessions can't understand the concept of other people's possessions, and this is the beginning of the end. I blogged about this once before and I haven't changed my mind about it. I never will. I sent my children to school with their supplies and I expected those supplies to reside in my child's desk. Anyone, including the teacher, who took my child's possessions without permission and against their wishes, was a thief.

A parent or sister or brother who helps themselves to your possessions is a thief, too. But don't call them that or you'll get grounded. And the injustice of THAT still burns, too.

I'm not selfish, and neither are my children. Almost anything we have, we are happy to let you use, too. Just don't ask to borrow those very, very few extra-precious things we have set apart from everything else, pristine, beloved, and our very own. And if you just waltz up and help yourself without permission, we'll by golly slap the daylights out of your reaching hand.

Nobody is entitled to whatever they want, without first jumping through some hoops. One of the jumps might be to pay for something in a store. Another jump might be asking permission to touch or use the property of someone else. But a person who just assumes that everything exists for his/her use is asking for trouble, and one of these days, he or she is going to try to help himself to something that isn't theirs and all hell will break loose, legally. If our children learn at a very early age that they are allowed free usage ONLY of their own things, and NEVER with someone else's, without permission, perhaps we'll populate the earth with adults who respect each other and each other's belongings, and who don't expect carte blanche to help themselves to anything and everything they want, without jumping through the proper hoop first.

To sum up: nice people of any age don't grab other people's things without permission. EVER.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

No Heart/No Fart: This Explains a Lot

2008-07-29T01:57:00.004-04:00

Today was the first day of Final Exams - every student's favorite day, naturally. My class today was up on the main campus, and the classes on the main campus have a far larger percentage of absenteeism than do the regional campuses. I have no idea why this is so, but it's so.

In this morning's class, three students didn't even show up to take the final exam. I predict that they will come to class on Wednesday and be all astounded and sputtery that the summer session is over and they can't take the final, when most of this kind of student didn't even know when the final WAS, or what it was about. It happens every semester, and it's scary. For the nation, I mean. SCARY. Sometimes, even at this level, a parent will call me at home to tell me why Junior was absent and to tell me that he'll be at the college on such and such a day to take the final which I will please hand-deliver to him at his convenience. To which I reply that I am not permitted by law to even acknowledge that I've ever heard of Junior and there is no way I would ever tell someone over the phone who is and who isn't in my classes. Then the parent will get all huffy and imperious and I'll start to snicker silently on my end, because after 26 years of having administration force me to kowtow and give in to this kind of parent, I am finally allowed to be sensible and professional about it, and simply hang up on the jerks. College administration will back me. If the parent tries to go over my head, it won't work. At least, it hasn't yet. Helicopter parents are a pathetic joke at any level, but if this attitude extends into a kid's college years, heaven help the universe!

Tomorrow, or, rather, later today (Holy cow, LOOK AT THE TIME!) I will give this same final exam to a group of students at a regional campus, and I'd bet money, if I had any, that every single student will be there, pencil sharpened, alert, and ready to take that test.

Most of the main campus students are just out of high school, and most of the regional students are older. Have work ethics changed much? Darn right they have. And not for the better, either. Sigh.

Dear Helicopter Parents of College Students: Your kid is raised. Stop raising him. If he's still an immature weenie, let life hand him/her some consequences. It's about time somebody did.
Love, Professor MeanJane P.S. Your kid is nineteen years old and still can't remember to bring a pencil to school. And no, he can't borrow mine. Suck it up. If he wants a grade on a test, he can go down to the bookstore and invest in a two-dollar collegiate-licensed pencil. Yes, they are too expensive and yes, it's ridiculous. At Target he can get a whole package for a dollar, but then he'd have to remember to bring one to class. You are not allowing your kid to grow up, and he doesn't have what it takes to do so himself. This is your fault. Back off. Let him struggle and fail, and then perhaps he will struggle and succeed. No, this is NOT being cruel. Cruelty is keeping your kid a kid too long, and doing all the work for him. Step back and don't give in when he comes crying to you about how hard life is.

This is one of many reasons why I am a firm believer in mixed-age classes. At this level, I'll have students from 17 to 80 in one room, and each has something invaluable to give to the other. The best thing of all? We don't really have many discipline problems, and if we do, the student is escorted out of the building immediately. As such students should be at ALL levels, so our nice hardworking kids might be able to climb higher and see farther and accomplish much more, without being constantly albatrossed by discipline problems that are allowed to get worse each year by spineless administrators and parents who can't see beyond their own child.

Remember Helen Keller, who had to be removed from her doting parents' home in order to be educated properly, because her parents were so sorry for her that they gave in to her every whim and turned her into a smelly obnoxious beast who demanded her own way and got it in every situation. Poor little Helen, let her have it; she's been denied so much! Annie Sullivan, however, knew better. Why can't modern parents and administrators see it?

After this week, the summer session will be over and I'll have two weeks of vacation before the VERY busy fall semester begins. I've peeked at the rosters and all of my classes, so far, are BIG! Of course, "big" at the college level means between 18 and 22, whereas "big" in the public school meant "over 40." And yes, I had several 8th grade classes of over 40, where kids had to sit on the floor and lean against the wall because no more desks could be crammed into the room.

Now, if the class grows too big, they lock the door and say "Sorry, try again next year." Much better!

I am a firm believer in playing my best with the hand I'm dealt, but that only works when there are 52 cards to be dealt. Add "just a few more," and the rules are changed, and it becomes a different game.

My roses are blooming and the petunias are beautiful and my upside-down tomatoes are doing well. The gerbera daisies are putting out new blooms and the salvia is purple and pretty. Come on over and ~~smoke~~ smell them.

Five years ago my life did a complete turnaround, and I wasn't sure if I would ever be able to adjust to it. Now? I'm happier than I've ever been in my life, and I know I am right where I am supposed to be. I know who my friends are, and who they aren't, and even though the blow was undeserved and terribly unfair, I'm glad now because I know that God led me through it and guided me straight to where I am now.

I wonder if we have any orange juice. . . . I still miss that BlogHer orange juice. And pretty much everything else about BlogHer, for that matter.

Life is good. Dig it.

And when life isn't good, dig it anyway. If you keep digging, you'll strike gold eventually.

Oh, and bring a pencil to class on test day. Them nasty ol' professors will show you no mercy; they can't, because they have no hearts. Nope.

They have no heart, and they never fart. That's why they're so mean all the time.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Quotation Saturday

2008-07-26T00:01:00.000-04:00

Coming home was both a downer and a relief. Does traveling affect anybody else like that? As I was changing the sheets and then mowing the lawn today, I was thinking things like "I love to make my home lovely and good-smelling, inside and out," whilst simultaneously thinking things like "If I lived in that hotel, I'd NEVER have to mow the lawn, someone else would change AND wash the sheets, and I'd get to sleep with Monty every night!" Because, of course, in my fantasy world, BlogHer is still going on and will never stop.

As are many other things in my many fantasy worlds. . . .

But now it's Quotation Saturday, and I do love me some wise and pithy quotations:

1. "It is not the shilling I give you that counts, but the warmth that it carries with it from my hand." --Miguel de Unamuno y Jugo

2. "We have no more right to put our discordant states of mind into the lives of those around us and rob them of their sunshine and brightness than we have to enter their houses and steal their silverware." --Julia Moss Seton

3. "Statistics are no substitute for judgment." --Henry Clay

4. "The slander of some people is as great a recommendation as the praise of others." --Henry Fielding

5. "A sense of shame is not a bad moral compass." --Colin Powell

6. "In the end we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends." --M.L. King

7. "Soft soap is always a sign that there's dirty water about." --John Dickson Carr

8. "Obstinacy and heat of opinion are the surest proof of stupidity. Is there anything so assured, resolved, disdainful, contemplative, solemn, and serious as the ass?" --Montaigne

9. "The man who insists on seeing with perfect clearness before he decides, never decides." --Henri Fredric Amiel

10. "A day is a span of time no one is wealthy enough to waste." --Anon.

11. "Without deviation, progress is not possible." --Frank Zappa

12. "Dollars cannot buy yesterday." --Admiral Harold R. Stark

13. "Never let go of the fiery sadness called desire." --Patti Smith

14. "If people are made to do what they dislike, you must allow for a little ill-humour." --Lord Melbourne

15. "I don't want people who want to dance. I want people who HAVE to dance." --George Balanchine

16. "Men get to be a mixture of the charming mannerisms of the women they have known." --F.S. Fitzgerald

17. "A man is his own easiest dupe, for what he wishes to be true he generally believes to be true." --Demosthenes

18. "Being a politician is like being a football coach: you have to be small enough to understand the game, but dumb enough to think it's important." --Eugene McCarthy

19. "Truthfulness is a cornerstone in character, and if it be not firmly laid in youth, there will ever after be a weak spot in the foundation." --Jefferson Davis

20. "Character is built out of circumstances. From exactly the same materials, one man builds palaces, while another builds hovels." --George Henry Lewes

21. "There is something that is much more scarce, something finer far, something rarer than ability. It is the ability to recognize ability." --Elbert Green Hubbard

22. "Faith in the ability of a leader is of slight service unless it be united with faith in his justice." --George Washington Goethels

23. "Administration not only has to be good but has also to be felt to be good by the people affected." --Nehru

24. "Art is running away without ever leaving home." --Twyla Tharp

25. "I'm tough, ambitious, and I know exactly what I want. If that makes me a bitch, okay." --Madonna

26. "Some men are like a clock on the roof; they are useful only to the neighbors." --Austin O'Malley

27. "People are so brainwashed by the rules that they don't know what really matters." --Mick Jagger

28. "The brain that doesn't feed itself, eats itself." --Gore Vidal

29. "On ships they call them barnacles; in business they attach themselves to desks and are called vice presidents." --Fred Allen

30. "Few people do business well who do nothing else." --Lord Chesterfield

31. "The human spirit is stronger than anything that can happen to it." --George C. Scott

32. "No shirt is too young to be stuffed." --Larry Zolf

33. "If 'A' is a success in life, then 'A' equals 'X' plus 'Y' plus 'Z.' Work is 'X,' 'Y' is play, and 'Z' is keeping your mouth shut." --Einstein

34. "The less one thinks, the more one talks." --Old French Proverb

35. "Let him that would move the world, first move himself." --Socrates

36. "It is as expedient that a wicked man be punished as that a sick man be cured by a physicial; for all chastisement is a kind of medicine." --Plato

37. "The canary bird in the coal mine theory of the arts: artists should be treasured as alarm systems." --Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

38. "The artist brings something into the world that didn't exist before, and. . . he does it without destroying something else." --John Updike

39. "First to know, then to act, then to really know." --Bishop Hafifi

40. "Our plans miscarry because they have no aim. When a man does not know what harbor he is making for, no wind is the right wind." --Seneca

41. "When it is not necessary to make a decision, it is necessary not to make a decision." --Lord Falkland

42. "The lure of the distant and the difficult is deceptive. The great opportunity is where you are." --John Burroughs

43. "To spare oneself from grief at all cost can be achieved only at the price of total detachment, which excludes the ability to experience happiness." --Erich Fromm

44. "If we only knew the real value of a day." --Joseph Farrell

45. "If ever there was an aviary overstocked with jays it is that Yap-town-on-the-Hudson, called a bureaucracy." --O. Henry

46. "The aging process has got you firmly in its grasp if you never get the urge to throw a snowball." --Doug Larsen

47. "As a preventative to mental old age, a daily mile trot with your imagination cannot be equaled." --Roy Giles

48. "The ability to deal with people is as purchasable a commodity as sugar or coffee. And I pay more for that ability than for any other under the sun." --J.D. Rockefeller

49. "Mum reckoned that getting lost and finding your way were just different sides of the same coin. You couldn't have one without the other." Fynn, from Mister God, This Is Anna

50. "There are thoughts which are prayers. There are moments when, whatever the posture of the body, the soul is on its knees." --Victor Hugo

We're having a huge bonfire here tonight, and finally getting rid of the absolutely humongous pile of limbs and brush that's been accumulating for YEARS. Come on over.

Seriously, stop by. We're setting off Mentos Geysers, and it's going to be, if you can stand one more quote. . . .

51. "Fierce!" -- Christian Siriano

There will be food. And blueberry cobbler.

And probably rain. But we've had mighty and majestic bonfires in the rain before.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

One More BlogHer Perspective

2008-07-22T18:59:00.006-04:00

. . . soooooo many posts about BlogHer! I LOVE THEM!!!

Strange as it may seem, since I am ~~such an opinionated blowhard~~ somewhat assertive on this blog, I am actually very shy in real life. It's difficult for me to walk into a room full of people and approach someone; I always assume that nobody would care to associate with a boring person like me. My panel went well, thanks to Shireen, Marilyn, and Monty; I knew that even if I flopped, they would carry on without me. They were so good.

At BlogHer, people spoke to me. People sat with me. People listened to me. Holy cow. I felt like SOMEBODY there.

Was it the other-side-of-the-continent atmosphere? Had I changed when I got off the plane? Are BlogHer people just nicer than other people? All of the above?

Possibly that last one.

Hanging out with Monty and Fausta and Kimberle did wonders for me, too. They are, all three of them, so very outstandingly wonderful!!! We traversed Chinatown and ate sushi and oysters and drank sake and took pictures of each other with dragons and in front of shop windows containing duck feet and beheaded waterfowl of various sorts, and tackled the crowds and the disco lights at Ruby Skye, and dodged all the Saving Grace misc, except for that one gigantic poster which we posed in front of and pretended we were part of. It was a marvelous lot of fun. I would kill to have Kim's hair. It's just simply gorgeous.

Food? There was food everywhere I turned, at BlogHer. I will have to say that the box lunches were not all that, novelty that they were, and for people on low carb diets, they were a disaster. Bread, bread, more bread, and pasta. They were all gone by the time I got to lunch on Friday, but as I'm too fat anyway, it wasn't a big deal. As for breakfast? For once in my life, I had all the orange juice I wanted. It was just so delicious, and so COLD. I do love me some ice cold, and I mean ICE COLD, orange juice. Room temp? Can't drink it. BlogHer orange juice was perfect. I couldn't eat the doughnuts, etc, because I'm diabetic, but I got by. Besides, we were accosted (the good kind) by hors d'oeuvres and wine everywhere we went, and the bottled water and diet Pepsi were abundant.

My ability to make a hardship out of the simplest things reared its ugly head at Sunday lunch, when I bit into my really delicious sandwich and speared my lower lip with a concealed toothpick. Seriously, it went all the way through my lower lip and out again. It still throbs, but now it's just funny. Who but me? I didn't know whether to just sit there and laugh at myself through the shock and tears, or run back to Chinatown and buy a lip ring. I mean, the piercing was already there and all . . . .

It's still there. How do you put medicine on the inside of your lip? I'm hoping the saliva will fix it, because I don't have any other options. I'm sure it will be fine.

Don't panic, Westin St. Francis. I'm not one of those people who sue. I'm a nice person. But after this, I'll be feeling up all my sandwiches before I plunge into them with my body parts. So to speak.

I learned so much over that weekend that I'm really kind of disoriented sitting here and trying to remember it all in ways that can be translated to the written page. I know for a fact that my brain had to have grown a new section to store it all.

One thing I'm very happy about: so many websites and conferences and literature and whatnot that welcome women of, how shall I put this, a 'certain age,' are very condescending even when they don't realize it. Yes, I'm over ~~the hill~~ forty (a LOT over), but I am not remotely interested in a website or conference that talks to me of Depends and AARP and declining vision and Alzheimer's and Ensure and velcro fasteners for my housedress and cell phones with one big button and ways to entertain the grandchildren and Big Band music and recipes for soft foods and electric grocery cart wheelchairs and great denture adhesives. I'm interested in writing and electronics and social media and marketing and books and makeup and purses and hanging out with friends and laughing out loud and eating in funky restaurants and navigating around Chinatown and computers, all about computers. BlogHer did so many things just exactly right, and one of them was that it treated all of us the same. There were people there from 18 to 80, and everybody did whatever she wanted most to do. Mixed groups? I'll say! Isn't that how the world really is?

As for the hotel itself, well, I was overwhelmed by its beauty, its accessibility, and its class. All the staff were gracious and helpful, the room was glorious, the shower was amazing, and nothing went wrong. Um, except for my credit card being declined and all, but that wasn't the hotel's fault.

Whoops, did I really confess that? My bad. It's fixed now.

I loved the sessions and the food and the people and the vendors and the loot and the vicinity and the sights and the parties.

Sunday was perhaps the best of all. Small and intimate and with handpicked topics. People still sat with me and my self-consciousness melted away. Of course, that's also when I pierced my lip with the toothpick. Sigh.

My adorable tiny pink computer was a real conversation-starter, too. Thank you, Asus Eee Pc! I love my little laptop - it does everything a big laptop can do, and it's light as a feather and fits in my purse.

I had no problems whatsoever at the airport, and the fact that I couldn't slow my brain down and get some sleep on the red-eye wasn't anybody's fault but my own. My daughter picked me up at the airport at 7:30 a.m. Monday morning and took me straight to the college, where I taught for several hours while trying desperately to stay awake. I could have used that toothpick for my eyelids!!! I am not a napper, but when I finally got home around 4:00, I gave in and took a four-hour nap. Then I got back up, wrote four articles, ate a sandwich (no toothpick), surfed the 'net, read a few posts about BlogHer, and went to bed for real around 2:30 a.m.

I had more than just a good time. It was more than a great time.

At BlogHer08, I found myself, and discovered that I'm not such a bad sort after all.

And oh, my BlogHer people, I can't WAIT to do it all again next year!!!

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

I Went to BlogHer and All I Got Was This Bag Full of Swag and Two More Boxes I Had To Mail Home

2008-07-19T12:18:00.002-04:00

BlogHer rocks. In more ways than I could ever describe.

But I'll try.

First of all, let me mention the swag. There's a lot of it. Everywhere I turn, there is someone giving something away. Not nonsensical cheap junk either: I'm accumulating some really sweet stuff. Of course, I love flash drives, and a person can never have too many.

Chocolates? Ohhhh, there's fine chocolate here, and it's free. FREE. DVD's. CD's. Shirts. All kinds of novelty items. So much stuff, Fausta and Monty and I had to walk down to Walgreen's and buy boxes to mail it home.

Oh cool, the Michelin Man just walked in. He looks a lot like me, naked.

Too much information?

So far I have had a wonderful time. The conference was well-planned and is being well-run, and the people here are just simply lovely.

The rooms are cold, but that's probably just me.

I'm learning tons of useful and interesting information, meeting wonderful people, and having loads of fun. What more could anyone ask?

Swag. I love me some fine swag. Must be my pirate legacy. Arrrrrh. I'm mailing the swag home in a box. Can't fit it in my suitcase.

P.S. To the gentleman who wondered if I was wearing underwear: the answer is, of course, "Maybe."

I love this place.

Haiku? Gesundheit!

2008-07-15T22:50:00.004-04:00

To learn the meaning
of life, just ask a blogger.
We know the answer.

As bloggers, we know
what "community" really
is, for we live there.

Blogosphere neighbors
might not know what you look like,
but we know enough.

Our lives are enhanced
by invisible friends who,
daily, sustain us.

Never feel that you're
alone; the blogosphere is
full of friends, waiting.

I'm taking my heart
to San Francisco, and I
just might leave it there.

Oh, my BlogHer friends,
I don't know you yet, but I
already love you.

I think that Heaven
might be a lot like BlogHer:
our best, in public.

Sight unseen, we get
to know "what" they really are,
and not merely "who."

Nobody really
cares who you were in high school.
Your blog is you, now.

Yeah, yeah, I know. Go ahead and laugh. I know corny when I see it, too. But the thing is, you see. . . sometimes I like a little corn. It's roughage. Good for the colon.

And can anybody tell me why it is that even though people chew the corn up pretty thoroughly, it still poops out in whole kernels?

Inquiring minds want to know.

P.S. The latest Carnival of Education is up now, over at Steve Spangler.com. Click over and become enlightened! Remember: if you don't keep yourself informed, you forfeit all whining rights. ALL WHINING RIGHTS BELONG ONLY TO THE INFORMED!

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Alive, Alive-O

2008-07-14T00:01:00.000-04:00

My cockles itch. I need magic. Drugs ain't working.

Hey HEY! I leave for BlogHer in a few days, and I want to make a good impression on everyone there, so I thought that it might be nice, today, to work out in the yard; you know, mowing, weeding, standing around in tall grass, tearing grape vines out of shagbark hickory trees, and just generally tearing my hands to a bloody pulp and laying a buffet for the chiggers.

Let me put it another way: I'll be the fat chick covered with red spots the size of dimes, excusing herself every few minutes to go scratch where the sun don't shine.

I am miserable. The itch quotient is a number that would take too much space to type.

I'll be using the next couple of days learning to scratch myself with my toenails. I know it will be subtle and graceful; nobody will even notice.

~~I've been so stressed over this and that lately~~ What with one thing and another, I forgot about Quotation Saturday. It warms the cockles of my heart that so many people missed the quotes, and emailed me to ask for a late edition. I always listen to my cockles, so here it is: Quotation ~~Saturday~~ Monday.

1. Music and art must have their prominent seats of honour, and not merely a tolerant nod of recognition. --Tagore

2. Still seems it strange that thou shouldst live forever? Is it less strange that thou shouldst live at all? This is a miracle, and that no more. --Edward Young

3. Learning teaches how to carry things in suspense, without prejudice, 'till you resolve. --Francis Bacon

4. It is common sense to take a method and try it. If it fails, admit it frankly and try another. But above all, try something. --FDR

5. Like all weak men he laid an exaggerated stress on not changing one's mind. --W.S. Maugham

6. Music is your own experience, your own thoughts, your wisdom. If you don't live it, it won't come out of your horn. They teach you there's a boundary line to music. But, man, there's no boundary line to art. --Charlie Parker

7. Marriage is a wonderful invention, but then again, so is the bicycle repair kit. --Billy Connally

8. It's no good saying "Hold it!" to a moment of real life. --Lord Snowden

9. Each man's memory is his private literature. --Aldous Huxley

10. He has Van Gogh's ear for music. --Orson Welles

11. There is but one morality, as there is but one geometry. --Voltaire

12. Music is but a living application of mathematics. -- Gino Severini

13. Mediocrity finds safety in standardization. --Frederick Evan Crane

14. Men who never take back their words love themselves more than truth. --Joseph Joubert

15. A memorandum is written not to inform the reader but to protect the writer. --Dean Acheson

16. A jazzy musician is a juggler who uses harmonies instead of oranges. --Benny Green

17. Keep out of ruts; a rut is something which, if travelled in too much, becomes a ditch. --Arthur Guiterman

18. Your giving a reason for it will not make it right. You may have a reason why two and two should make five, but they will still make but four. --Samuel Johnson

19. The greatest reward for doing is the opportunity to do more. --Jonas Salk

20. Rumors always have been powerful. But, somehow, an internet rumor casts a spell. It's in writing, and it comes from the almighty machine. --Wyatt Andrews

21. Most of our so-called reasoning consists in finding arguments for going on believing as we already do. --James Harvey Robinson

22. . . . and though the tongue has no bones, it can sometimes break millions of them. --F.L. Lucas

23. Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up. --Pablo Picasso

24. God gives sleep to the bad, in order that the good may be undisturbed. --Saadi

25. The best lightning rod for your protection is your own spine. --Emerson

26. Great numbers of moderately good people think it fine to talk scandal; they regard it as a sort of evidence of their own goodness. --Frederick William Faber

27. Our disputants put me in mind of the scuttlefish that, when he is unable to extricate himself, blackens the water about him till he becomes invisible. --Joseph Addison

28. He uses statistics as a drunken man uses lamp-posts - for support rather than illumination. --Andrew Lang

29. Anyone can observe the Sabbath, but making it holy surely takes the rest of the week. --Alice Walker

30. There is nothing makes a man suspect much, more than to know little. --Francis Bacon

31. We are not punished for our sins, but by them. --Elbert Hubbard

32. The really serious things in life are earning one's living so as not to be a parasite, and loving one's neighbor. --W.H. Auden

33. I can't say I was ever lost, but I was bewildered once for three days. --Daniel Boone

34. Live your beliefs and you can turn the world around. --Thoreau

35. Things work out best for the people who make the best out of the way things work out. --Anon.

36. It was a blonde. A blonde to make a bishop kick a hole in a stained-glass window. --Raymond Chandler

37. It serves me right for putting all my eggs in one bastard. --Dorothy Parker

38. The only time we should look down upon another man is when we are bending over to help him up. --Unknown

39. I not only use all the brains I have, but all I can borrow. --Woodrow Wilson

40. Bullies are always to be found where there are cowards. --Gandhi

41. Discussion is an exchange of knowledge; argument is an exchange of ignorance. --Robert Quillen

42. The devil is an optimist if he thinks he can make people meaner. --Karl Kraus

43. Democracy without education is hypocrisy without limitation. --Iskander Mirza

44. Nine out of ten juvenile delinquents are just inferior. --J.D. Tanguey

45. A man on a mission is far different from a drone on a deadline. --Rheta Grimsley Johnson

46. One of the advantages of being disorderly is that one is constantly making exciting discoveries. --A.A. Milne

47. Seize the day: it's the only one you can be sure you'll have. -- Unknown

48. Science without religion is lame; religion without science is blind. --Einstein

49. To lead a symphony, you must occasionally turn your back on the crowd. --Unknown

50. Much can be achieved with a smile. Admittedly, much more can be achieved with a smile and a big stick. --Anon.

A friendly reminder - and remember, my cockles itch and I've got a big stick* - that the deadline for submitting your articles to this week's Carnival of Education is Tuesday evening, 6 p.m.

* Have at thee, Google.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

BlogHer, Oh My Darling BlogHer: Please Don't Notice My Fat

2008-07-13T04:09:00.004-04:00

Today, I made some BlogHer business cards. All of the savvy, knowledgeable BlogHer women bring business cards to exchange. I'm one, right? I tried to think of some way to make mine cool, but after a while I gave up. My business cards are just like me: boring and nerdy. I suppose anything else would have been false advertising.

On Wednesday, I had my hair trimmed - it was the second time in over five years that I've been to a stylist. I did it for BlogHer; I didn't want all those stylish women to see me with the distinctive touch of a manicure scissors trim. It's so humid here, I've been twisting my hair up and sticking a clip through it anyway. I'm so "with it" when it comes to trendy hair, you know.

I've been going through my closet, wondering how even someone like me could possibly be wearing some of those ancient, hideous clothes. There has to be something in there that would help hide the real "me" in San Francisco.

Yesterday, I tunneled my way through the bathroom cabinet and weeded out all the hair gels and other products that did not live up to the miracles the marketers had promised. I feel somehow betrayed by my own persistence in believing the printed word. I do know better; I just haven't stopped hoping yet. . . .

As far as BlogHer shoes go, mine have never been so far away from home before. Unfortunately, they look it. I own moccasins and flip-flops. I am a walking definition of whatever the opposite of "elegant" is. I'd look it up in a thesaurus but I'm already feeling insecure enough.

If I were a movie, I'd be an alternate ending of "The Wizard of Oz." The credits might be rolling, and the reel might have switched back to black and white, but I still haven't found any courage or brains. The Wicked Witch of the West just grew larger and more wicked when I threw water on her, and she flipped that huge scary hourglass - the very one that traumatized me when I was a little kid - upside-down again. The winged monkeys are throwing dung at me, Glinda just looks like Topper's wife, and Toto not only bit me: his fleas did, too. I begin to wish Miss Crump had fastened her bicycle basket more securely.

Oh, and the Wizard betrayed me. He flew away and never came back for me. He never had any intention of coming back. The Wizard is a player. Eventually, everybody figures that out. It just took me longer than most people. I'm that way.

The only thing that really works is the heart. I had that all the time. I'm just afraid to use it. What if, when I get to San Francisco, nobody talks to me? What if nobody sees me? I'm mostly invisible, wherever I go, except when I make Ugly Betty seem subtle. But she turned out to be smart and creative: a problem-solver who specialized in saving the day.

What if it grows silent when I enter the room, and then little clusters of friends titter and begin to whisper? What if I'm the only person in the room wearing capris with a two-digit number on the label?

It's ironic, you know. I have no trouble whatsoever walking into a classroom full of strangers and taking charge. The difference there, however, is that when I'm on the job, those people NEED me. About my job, I am very knowledgeable and I know exactly what I'm doing and how to do it. I know that I'm good at it, and I know that my department head knows that and trusts me to do my job and do it well. I take that trust very seriously indeed, and I do my utmost to live up to it. And I'm talking exactly like Charlie Gordon in the novella version.

I very nearly worship the women in charge of BlogHer. They are trusting me to be on a panel, and I intend to do my very best for them. I have never done anything like this before. I've spoken before hundreds of people on my own terms, but I've never spoken about anything personal, or close to my heart. In just a few days, that's exactly what I shall be doing. What if I open up and nobody cares?

What if people nudge each other and snicker? What if they whisper to each other that they've NEVER felt like that and there must be something wrong with me? What if they leave the session wondering why I was even there?

In just a few days, I shall be in San Francisco at BlogHer. I went last year and it was wonderful. When the opportunity opened up that allowed me to go again this year, I was so ecstatic I stammered for weeks. I know that it will be even better this year. Events like this almost always get better and better with each passing year. Practice makes perfect, you know.

I hope I will be able to somehow add to the perfection, and not detract from it. I can't WAIT to meet everyone there. I just hope nobody is disillusioned when they actually see. . . me.

I'll be the large nerdy woman peeking wistfully out from behind the curtains. Would you, um, want to exchange business cards with me? It's okay if you'd rather save yours for the interesting people. Here, take one of mine anyway.

It's five o'clock in the morning, and I'm obviously still up. I'd go to bed but there are things on my mind.

You know, like whether or not Alex(is) Meade really keeps "it" in a glass of water. I think it would be kind of cool if she did.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

The Carnival of Education, 179th Edition

2008-07-09T00:25:00.006-04:00

Welcome to the 179th edition of the Carnival of Education. Our in-service will begin shortly.

Lalalalalalalala. . . . .

30 minutes later: still eating stale doughnuts, wishing somebody had a key to unlock the coke machine, and still waiting for the administrators, who arranged this in-service for us in the middle of our summer vacation, to show up and enlighten us. In the summertime, most teachers really don't like being required to hang around the ol' institution for nothing. When summertime meetings are called, teachers feel like the inmates and the administrators seem like our keepers. After all, we're not getting paid for this in-service, and the principals are. And did you hear how much our presenter is being paid? That's right. THAT'S how much.

Faint rumblings are heard in the distance.

Lalalalalalalala. . . . .

Distinct rumblings. . . .

Hmm, well, until the principal and his 47 assistants show up, we'll just play it by ear. After all, if all the boring presenters and administrators we've been subjected to were laid end to end, ~~I wouldn't be a bit surprised.~~ * What? Did I say that out loud? Oops. I'll try again. If all the programs and brochures from all the in-services all of us have ~~endured~~ attended over the years were laid end to end, we could walk to the moon and back on them.

. . . the inmates have now taken over the in-service. For once, we're going to have an in-service that's worth attending!!!!!

Let's start with "Ten Brain Tips To Teach. . . and Learn," by Laurie Bartels. Laurie is of the opinion that if our brains are meant for learning, then teachers need to know how to show students how to use those brains for that intended purpose.

Next up: "25 Teachers Who Drastically Changed the World," by Laura Milligan. We all have our favorite teachers, and I'm sure we all hope WE'RE somebody's favorite teacher. But wait, Laura's not finished with us quite yet: Here she is again with "100 Unbelievably Useful Reference Sites You've Never Heard Of." Guess again, though, Laura. I've actually used some of those sites!

I've been reading in many places about innovative teachers who are using the Wii in their classrooms as a teaching tool. Jessica Merritt gives us "50 Ways to Use Wii In Your Library."
According to Jessica, "Libraries are often looking for a way to get the community more involved in the library, and gaming is a great way to do that."

From Suzanne over at Adventures in Daily Living, we get a beautiful essay about how writing and gardening have so much in common, both in the choosing of our plants/words, and how we view a finished essay. Writing instructors (oops, occasionally guilty!) would all do well to heed her advice.

Arun has mixed emotions about what he calls a "safety net." Best of luck, Arun!

From Away We Go at "Where's The Sun," we are told about a threat called "The Axis of Evil in Education," and are reminded that "When you shoot for the moon, even if you miss, you land among the stars."

Bellringers is spending 5 days and 4 nights with 32 teenagers. Find out why by reading "Numbering 32, Summer Workshops, and Jack."

Are you ready for some genuine smiles? Master storyteller Laurie Kendrick has revved up an old chestnut to bring us an absolutely true comparison of modern schooldays to their former selves. The easily offended need not click. Everyone else, sit back and enjoy Laurie's post, "Education in 1958 vs. 2008."

"Tax Breaks for College Students" gives us information that might be invaluable for those of us who have college-age kids, teach college or high school seniors, or are ourselves in need of some financial help in getting that degree.

John Tenny has put together a compilation of help to all teachers who have ever been or will be . . . "observed." Check out his post on "Self-Directed Professional Growth" at Data-Based Classroom Observations.

Whatever your personal views on diversifying classroom literature might be, we can all benefit from reading "Diversifying the Literary Canon" over at Onward and Upward.

From Education Notes Online comes a post called "Teach For America: The One That Got Away," and all of you should read it.

Seriously? I think all of us should read all of these posts. Whether we agree with everyone here or not, knowledge really is power.

Matthew Ladner, guest-posting on Jay P. Greene's blog, believes that robust reforms, rather than tinkering with the old ways, are what's best for our schools.

Heather Johnson gives us 6 tips for motivating our students.

ElementaryHistoryTeacher has a bone to pick with administrators who still practice social promotion, even when it's against the law.

Over at Horse Sense and Nonsense, Andy Hilbert wonders about whether or not teachers should follow directives they don't personally agree with. Just what constitutes "insubordination?"

Did you ever wonder ". . . How Long Does It Take To Get To Mars?"

Ryan, of I Thought A Think, was thrown out of his administration program, but decided to attend the AWSP/WASA meetings, anyway.

Just exactly what is multiplication, anyway? Is it really just repeated addition? Yes? No? Let's find out what Let's Play Math has to say about it!

Are we teachers who rock, or are we not? I think we are teachers who ROCK. That being the case, let's go visit It's Not All Flowers and Sausages, and get some Malibu rum. What's that? You've already been there? Well, that explains a lot!

So You Want To Teach tells us of his reaction when a comment on this post really got under his skin. Part-time job, indeed! Oh, and then someone made the mistake of telling Mr.Teacher at Learn Me Good that teaching was a part-time job.

This made Mr. Teacher wonder about something else: if David Grey's music is used to torture terrorists, what music should schools use for students in after-school detention?

Oh, and shouldn't your four-year-old be knowledgeable about condoms and lifestyles and the sex act by now? After all, she's almost five!

Mr. Teacher was really on a role today. He wants to know if we've heard the one about the student who was rewarded for using a lot #$%^&*)(*& language on an exam.

Are we ready for a break yet? No? You're taking notes and learning great things? Really? Hmm, maybe teachers need to run their own in-services ALL the time! Order pizza? Sure, why not? Everybody chip in a couple of bucks and we'll have it delivered. We should have thought of this long ago!

Moving right along, then. . . Becky, at Life Without School, wonders what the big deal is about labels. I've often wondered, myself.

NYC Educator reminisces about a student teacher who went a bit too far in promoting his own religious agenda in a classroom. I especially love the Swaggart poster.

Joanne Jacobs is wondering how "meaningful" a required community service project would be. Isn't "required volunteerism" an oxymoron?

At Scenes from the Battleground, Old Andrew deals with a Catch-22 with administrators and email. We've all been there!!!

Knowing how to talk to small children will not merely enrich your life and theirs, it will also give the children a genuine head start in life. Read what Elbows, Knees, Dreams has to say about talking and reading to small children.

Nancy Flanagan, of Teacher in a Strange Land , wonders what kind of colleges have undergraduate education departments. . . .

Jo Scott-Coe doesn't have time to eat. She also wants to eat all the time. What's a person at the mercy of a bell, to do? Her post "Half-Hour Lunch" at Teaching at Point Blank is a good one.

Desertjim at The Golden Apple wonders, "What should be the federal government's role in public education?" We've all wondered that, haven't we!

Bathroom break, anyone? More pizza? Coffee? Three Musketeers? Fritos? No?

Really? Keep moving along? And LOOK at all those notes everyone is taking!

Larry Ferlazzo gives us a list of good teacher resources for social justice issues. You never know when you might need something like that.

Over at The English Teacher, Scott Walker continues to dazzle us with his original cartoons. I really hope he puts them in a book soon; they're fabulous!

The Hall Monitor wants to know, who was YOUR favorite teacher, and why?

Melissa B. at The Scholastic Scribe finds more than a little humor when looking closely at an American flag, and advises us to ask Alanis Morissette about the irony of it all.

Bill Ferriter at The Tempered Radical wonders if you find great meaning in your school's mission statement? Because, HE does!

Christine, over at The Thinking Mother, has reviewed the book From Crayons to Condoms.

TweenTeacher.com's Heather Wolpert-Gawron can refute any reason you can try to give her about why schools need to clamp down tightly on students' access to the internet. Some of you might not like her reasons, but I love them.

Wendy Kopp, founder and president of Teach for America, gets a lot of media attention: some good, some not so good. Here is one more opinion about her, and her program.

At What It's Like on the Inside, the Science Goddess asks people to consider three questions: What happens? What matters? What matters most? And then she talks about pencils, pens, and the beauty of paper. I love it.

Ric Murray of Why Do You Ask posts about the qualities that make a person a good teacher. He's got some really good points.

Over at Successful Teaching, Pat reminds us that the journey really is more important than the destination.

Meanwhile, over at Steve Spangler's Blog, Steve is busy blasting the faces out of watermelons and stacking liquids on top of each other.

Now, to interrupt our in-service for the required scolding: This is, of course, NOT directed towards anybody at this meeting, but as it's traditional to scold the entire group for the doings of a handful, here we go.

I received a LOT of entries from people who were merely selling things. I did not include those posts. This surprised me, and frankly, it made me a little angry. You know, kind of like a salesman interrupting your class to try to get you to look at and sign up for a product? The kind who get past the office by giving samples and food to all the secretaries down there? I hate those guys. What nerve.

However, it was the repeated entries with links to places where a student might purchase essays, term papers, and the like, that really made me mad. I think I got almost a dozen entries, all under a different name, for a UK-based pre-written- paper mill. These are disgusting businesses, and they encourage our students to become thieves, because plagiarism is stealing, just as taking money out of the till is stealing. Shame on this business.

I'm not sure which makes me madder: that this business tried to con me into putting it on a list of genuine educational links, or that it thought I would fall for it!

Guess again, ya crooks.

Ahem. I think I hear footsteps coming down the hall, and they sound like they're being made by expensive shoes, so I think the administration is finally going to show up.

In thinking back on all the worthless in-services I've been forced to attend over the years, it sure would have been nice to have had even some of these wonderful teachers, parents, and concerned citizens in charge of them.

I leave you now with two special treats. Two wonderful posts were submitted tonight by people who forgot to send them as attachments and, instead, put them in the body of their e-mail.

However, they were both so good, I'm going to post them here so you can read them, too. They're too good to miss!

This first post is by the lovely Bonnie, who isn't blogging at present but we can always hope!!

My Experience with Home Education in a Nutshell - Pun Intended

Myriad philosophies and approaches surround homeschooling. I speak only from my personal experience of having educated 11 children at home. Although I consider myself a homeschool instructor, my children consider themselves self-taught; this makes me ecstatic. Our eldest is 27 and and our youngest is 9, so our experiment is still ongoing. My beloved husband and I decided to educate our children at home before they were born. He is a mathematician, engineer, and violinist. I am a professional cellist and certified yoga teacher.

Homeschooling a large family has many built-in advantages for parents/teachers and children/students. The family can enjoy studying many subjects together at different levels. Older children can teach their younger siblings, cementing knowledge more firmly into their own noggins while learning the art of patience. We appreciate our children's quirks and try to encourage them to use their gifts and to be disciplined. We like rituals. We dine together. We have tea together. We read together. We hike together. We sail together. We play together. Much learning takes place in our daily interactions.

I believe that less is more for children and that simplicity in a home makes for a better learning environment. Great books, lots of fresh air and exercise, important family responsibilities, the opportunity to help old folks and the needy, and close relationships with family and friends of all ages make for happy scholars. Chess, cribbage and other educational games teach important mathematical principles and good sportsmanship. Less is more regarding toys and screen time. We have no television and spend little time in front of the computer. We read the Bible as a family and think that Bible history is an important subject for any well-rounded scholar. We also think it is important to study other religions and to show respect toward people of other faiths.

I try to emulate my husband's organic, subtle teaching style. Basically, he does what he loves (sailing, hiking, golfing, gardening) or has to do (fixing our old Mercedes-Benzes, designing a sauna, building a fence, making biodiesel fuel) alongside the kiddos, sharing bits of information in a warm, conversational manner.

My place in the scheme of things is to make sure the little ones learn how to read well and know their basic math facts. I believe in letting them learn at their own pace. I read classic literature to them early and often. I include them in cooking, sewing, and cleaning. Even the little ones know how to sweep, wash dishes, make soups and sandwiches, and do laundry. Things move at a slower pace sometimes, but children eventually become competent and confident in these activities.

A well-kept secret among many homeschooling families is that children who read well and understand basic math concepts can teach themselves almost anything. We have a home library of great literature and nonfiction books and our children use self-teaching textbooks for 5th grade math through Pre-Calculus. We are regular visitors at our public library. We take advantage of whatever outside support is edifying and affordable. Presently, because all of my babies are grown, we attend a homeschool center for many wonderful supplementary classes, including Latin, Hands-on-Physics, Musical Theater, Wonderful Whales, and Chautauqua History (a class where the scholars study a famous person in history for an entire year and then dress up and give a presentation as that person). I teach Art History, Music History, Shakespeare for Children, Penmanship, Learning to Read with Tintin Comics, and Yoga at the center, so, when we go in, it is a fun day of learning for all of us! Private lessons are obtained for music study. My husband and I met in our high school string quartet so we try to manage music lessons for everyone.

Many people have concerns about homeschoolers and socialization. It is my opinion that children learn better social skills when they are around all ages and not limited to spending time with only their agemates. Our homeschool center allows different ages in classes. A student can take any math class into which he tests, for instance. Between classes, all ages play together. There are chess matches going on continually during breaks.

Proof in the Pudding:

Our eldest daughter works for a major consulting firm in NYC after a few years of serving as director of a non-profit French organization. She has degrees in French and International Business. She has traveled broadly and her company has sent her to NYU and Harvard Business School for graduate classes. She taught herself French and math until she attended university. She had a full scholarship to ballet school during her high school years and played the part of Clara in the Nutcracker Ballet with a professional company in a major city. She is a great diplomat. She adores her brothers and sisters and they savor her tenderhearted advice.

Our 2nd eldest daughter married an engineer and inventor. They are restoring an old farmhouse on a lake nearby. She didn't read until she was 9 years old. Her first books were Tale of Two Cities and Little Women. She has a degree in Philosophy. She makes her own clothes and curtains and built her own chimney! She, like me, had her baby at home and is active in trying to keep homebirth a legal option for families.

Our eldest son just received his degree in Sports Management and is already managing a farm league baseball team in a thriving, Western city. This, in spite of the fact that we have never actively participated in organized sports. (We had our own teams covered and I refuse to live my life around a child's athletic pursuits!) Our son is very athletic and had great fun playing intramural sports in college.

Our 3rd eldest daughter works for the National Parks. She is presently in Alaska and loves restoring old lodges, building trails, and hiking. She is especially proud of her flood recovery work at Mt. Rainier. She is a professional singer and recorded Bible school songs and commercial jingles as a young child. When she visits, she regales us in the evenings with songs that my great-grandmother might have sung.

Our 4th eldest daughter entered college at 14 and earned a double degree in Piano Performance and Scandinavian Studies. She has visited Finland twice. Her paternal grandmother is Finnish and she is keen on knowing all she can about her heritage. She paid her way through school by playing the carillon bells, private teaching, and holding a teaching fellowship at a college preparatory music conservatory. She teaches music theory to young musicians in a winsome, engaging manner without patronizing them. You should hear her play Chopin!

Our 2nd eldes son is attending an art institute in the fall. He plays the bass guitar in a mellow and beautiful style. When we interviewed at the college, he was asked what he pictured himself doing in 20 years. He said, "I see myself sitting at a desk, doing work that I love and providing for my family, just like my dad."

Our 3rd eldest son is a scholar/athlete and hopes to play sports in college. He is the wrestling team captain and also letters in football on our local high school teams. He is a student government leader and has many close friends.

Homeschoolers in our area can participate in certain activities at their local public schools without being part of what I consider to be an unhealthy culture. (prison-like, adult-led learning, surrounded by negative peer pressure and involving poor curriculum)

Snapshots of our younger children at this moment: Our teenage daughter is practicing her jazz fiddle and independently making her way through a jazz theory book. She is patiently teaching me to improvise. She is attending college as an early entrance student in the fall. Our state pays for two years of community college to those that test into this program.

Our teenage son is mowing the neighbor's lawn. He is working through Algebra 2 this summer on his own. He reads every history book he can get his hands on and is a Greek and Roman scholar. His favorite artists are from the Hudson River School.

Our 11 year old wants to be a veterinarian. He has his own neighborhood pet-sitting business. Grownups love to talk with him and he enjoys visiting with old folks. He likes to study the periodic table and enjoys calling things by their main element. For instance, he calls bananas "K" because that is the symbol for potassium.

Our youngest daughter is illustrating her own book on Greek mythology this summer. She writes about the gods and goddesses and then draws beautiful pictures to accompany her words.

We think that vibrant learning can take place outside of a classroom setting. We are happy to always be learning new things. For instance, I learned how to hold a yoga headstand in the middle of a room at the same time my grandson was learning to walk a few months ago.

Homeschooling is a great way to enjoy one's family and it is not as difficult as one might imagine. Take joy! Be open to learning your whole life long!

This last post is by Gene Maudlin - the wonderful and hilarious Hoss, who makes us laugh while he makes us think.

Where Does '(this) Go?

Once upon a time, somebody invented these things known as !@#$%^&*'()_+. Also: \|]}[{+__))(*&^%$#@! All very useful, if one could understand with which and what to do them with. Most spurious of the lot is the ', and where to put it.

("Where the sun don’t' shine!" I can hear you all, and your effort is appreciated.)

For instance: Banana's for Sale or Rent. One could assume that the purveyor has one (1) banana for sale. Or, one could assume that the apostrophe is unnecessary, in the event that there are more that one banana' for sale. In that case, the phrase "bananas" might work. Or not.

Naturally, there is always theirs'. Or maybe it is their's. It doesn't matter much, for it (') does not take much space.

The important thing is that it is understood to be singular and/or plural. Theirs', that is. Or their's. Or mine.

Is it "For Heavens sake, for Heavens' sake, or for heaven's sake"? Perhaps it is just sake (sah'-key)?

Eggs for Sale. Or maybe egg's ON sale. And/or egg's available.

Talk about your baby, or babies: Little ones. Little one's. Little ones' onesies.

Its a fright. Its a banana. Wronged on both cheeks.

Its a bad reading on the breathalyzer. Isn't its?'

An ' can be used as a warning that an "s" is about to show up, as in "I have hand grips'es for sale." "I like mayonnai'se."

Use the ' frequently. You are a's apt to get it right as' to get it wrong.

=====

Next week's Carnival of Education will be hosted by Steve Spangler Science, which is one of my very favorite websites! You may send your posts directly to his office at jane@stevespangler.com, or via the handy Carnival of Education form. Oh, and by the way? Steve Spangler will be on "Ellen" this coming Thursday!

I think the principals are here now. Would someone please bolt the door? We're working in here!

Thank you for allowing me to host the esteemed Carnival of Education. It's been an honor. I hope I have included everyone who submitted an educational article. If I have left you out, please contact me at once and I'll make it right. I've been left out many times, and it hurts!

* Thank you, Dorothy Parker

Marky Mark Is Old

2008-07-07T18:47:00.004-04:00

During the break today, my students were discussing the upcoming movie version of "The Lovely Bones." I won't be watching it, because I read the book and it upset me terribly. It was well-written and excellent; it was the subject matter that disturbed me. I don't "do" the torture and murder of children, and I think all child molesters should be executed without a last meal. Oh, and I don't mind if it hurts them, either. In fact, I think it should, and I hope it does. (The link contains spoilers, so if you plan to read the book or watch the film and don't want to know how it ends, you've been warned.)

That being said, the subject matter of the movie wasn't actually what disturbed me today. Rather, it was overhearing this conversation:

Student 1: The mom is played by the mom in all those "Mummy" movies.
Student 2: The grandmother is played by the mom in "Little Women."
Student 3: Guess who's playing the dad: Mark Wahlberg!
Student 1: Yeah, Mark Wahlberg is pretty HOT - for an old guy.

Mark Wahlberg was born in 1971. My students consider him an old guy.

I was dragging when I got home, partly from the torrential rain and partly because so many students were absent today and partly because I didn't have any money for Diet Coke and ~~mostly~~ partly from the realization that if Mark Wahlberg is old, I must be. . . . never mind.

And then I read Jeff's post.

Cheered me right up, it did.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Before You Flush, Send Me Your Contribution!

2008-07-06T19:30:00.003-04:00

Every week, I recommend that all of you click over to the Carnival of Education, because if we don't keep up on what's going on in our schools, how can we form a viable opinion? This applies to pretty much everything, in fact: them what ain't in the know, needs to shut up. We must all stay in the know! And what better way to keep informed about our children's education, ie our nation's future, than to read what concerned educators and parents have to say?

Ahem. I am, therefore, more than proud to announce that this week, the Carnival of Education will be hosted right here at Scheiss Weekly. Did I mention that I am proud? I am sooo proud. I consider being allowed to host the Carnival of Education to be a great privilege and honor.

I would also like to invite you all to contribute a post to this week's Carnival of Education! Whether you are a public, private, post-grad, or homeschooling instructor, a citizen, a neighbor, a mean old coot who doesn't return the baseballs that fall into your yard, or a parent (and all parents are teachers!), I would love to feature as many articles as possible from all kinds of people everywhere.

Please get your contribution to me by Tuesday, July 8, at 6:00 p.m. The Carnival will be published early Wednesday morning, July 9. You can email your contribution to me, as an attachment, at: MamacitaG@gmail.com

I hope lots of you send me your articles! I look forward to getting them! Thank you all, in advance!

Now, back to writing and listening to a very interesting random playlist. . . .

1. Petra Berger - Lonely Without You
2. The Puppini Sisters - Heart of Glass
3. The King's Singers - Marry A Woman Uglier Than You
4. Michael Penn - High Time
5. Five For Fighting - Easy Tonight
6. Josh Radin - Don't Look Away
7. Norah Jones - Love Me Tender
8. Leah Andreone - Lamentation
9. Jeff Buckley - Hallelujah
10. Gomez - How We Operate
11. Ben Folds - Golden Slumbers
12. Cake - Frank Sinatra
13. Eva Cassidy - Autumn Leaves
14. A Night on Bald Mountain (Moussorgsky/Mussorgsky/pick one) - Tomita
15. Nick Drake - The Cello Song
16. Alessandro Safina - Luna
17. Savatage - Desiree (acoustic piano version)
18. James Taylor, Art Garfunkel, & Paul Simon - What A Wonderful World
19. Cowboy Bebop - Walk In The Rain
20. DaVinci's Notebook - Stray Cat Strut

I work better with music. I work best with an ~~odd~~ eclectic mix. I can't work at all in silence.

Word of advice: if your family has been feasting on freshly-picked blackberries and blueberries as if there were no tomorrow, don't look down into the bowl before you flush. It will just frighten you unnecessarily.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Quotation Saturday

2008-07-05T00:05:00.000-04:00

Will it ever stop raining in southern Indiana? I don't know yet.

The only thing I'm sure of at all right now is that it's another Quotation Saturday!

Here we go:

1. "Do not spoil what you have by desiring which you have not; but remember that what you have now was once among the things you only hoped for." --Epicurus

2. "Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved." --W.J. Bryan

3. "Lots of folks confuse bad management with destiny." --Kin Hubbard

4. "Free and fair discussion will ever be found the firmest friend to truth." --George Campbell

5. "The true test of character is. . . how we behave when we don't know what to do." --John Holt

6. "It takes as much courage to have tried and failed as it does to have tried and succeeded." --Anne Morrow Lindburgh

7. "Men like conventions because men make them." --G. B. Shaw

8. "There is truth in the high opinion that insofar as a man conforms, he ceases to exist." --Max Eastman

9. "Conventionality has slain the souls of more men and women than drink or immorality." G.B. Burgin

10. "Consistency is contrary to nature, contrary to life. The only completely consistent people are the dead." --Aldous Huxley

11. "They have a right to censure that have a heart to help; the rest is cruelty, not justice." -- William Penn

12. "Coquetry is an art of the intellect; flirtation is a function of the senses." --Don Marquis

13. "I must have been an insufferable child; all children are." --G.B. Shaw

14. "Don't stay away from church because there are so my hypocrites. There's always room for one more." --A.R. Adams

15. "Children can stand vast amounts of sternness. They rather expect to be wrong and are quite used to being punished. It is injustice, inequity, and inconsistency that kill them." --Father Robert Capon

16. "A good discussion increases the dimensions of everyone who takes part." --Randolph Silliman Bourne

17. "A sound discretion is not so much indicated by never making a mistake, as by never repeating it." --Christian Nestell Bovie

18. "There is always one moment in childhood when the door opens and lets the future in." --Graham Greene

19. "My experience. . . has been that when things are non-controversial, beautifully coordinated, and all the rest, it must be that there is not much going on." --JFK

20. "Culture is what your butcher would have if he were a surgeon." --Mary Pettibone Poole

21. "He is a modest little man who has a good deal to be modest about." --Winston Churchill

22. "Every murderer is probably somebody's old friend." --Agatha Christie

23. "Men. . . love their martyrs and worship those whom they have tortured to death. . . ." --Dostoyevsky

24. "Grownups never understand anything for themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them." --Antoine De Saint-Exupery

25. "One machine can do the work of fifty ordinary men. No machine can do the work of one extraordinary man." --Elbert Hubbard

26. "A good man dies when a boy goes wrong." Boys' Ranch Roundup, 1966

27. "Money will buy a pretty good dog, but it won't buy the wag of his tail." --Josh Billings

28. "In life, as in chess, forethought wins." --Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton

29. "No man ever became great or good except through many and great mistakes." --William Gladstone

30. "In order for you to profit from your mistakes, you have to get out and make some." --Anon

31. "Laughter is much more important than applause. Applause is almost a duty. Laughter is a reward." --Carol Channing

32. "That is what learning is. You suddenly understand something you've understood all of your life, but in a new way." --Doris Lessig

33. "Learning is the art of knowing how to use common sense to advantage." --Josh Billings

34. "The great use of life is to spend it for something that outlasts it." --William James

35. "To keep a lamp burning, we have to keep putting oil in it." --Mother Teresa

36. "Two persons who love each other are in a place more holy than the interior of a church." --William Lyon Phelps

37. "One does not discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time." --Andre Gide

38. "Life isn't a matter of milestones but of moments." --Rose Kennedy

39. "The difference between liberty and liberties is as great as between God and gods." --Ludwig Bourne

40. "If your luck isn't what it should be, write a 'p' in front of it and try again." --Bob Edwards

41. "What loneliness is more lonely than distrust?" --George Eliot

42. "It is not the function of our Government to keep the citizens from falling into error; it is the function of the citizens to keep the Government from falling into error." --Robert N. Jackson

43. "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it's the only thing that ever has." --Margaret Mead

44. "The character that needs law to mend it, is hardly worth the tinkering." --Anon

45. "I can not and will not cut my conscience to fit this year's fashions." --Lillian Hellman

46. "The first requisite of a good citizen in this republic of ours is that he shall be able and willing to pull his weight." --T. Roosevelt

47. "She was a town & country soprano of the kind often used for augmenting grief at a funeral." --George Ade

48. "Blaming the wolf would not help the sheep much. The sheep must learn not to fall into the clutches of the wolf." --Ghandi

49. "Stupidity is an elemental force for which no earthquake is a match." --Karl Kraus

50. "Nothing in all the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity." --Martin Luther King, Jr.

I am swept off my feet and rendered helpless by a witty turn of phrase. When I am finally able to get up again, I'm smarter, and nicer, and braver, and more. . . satisfied. . . than ever before. What do I mean by that? A lot of things. Including THAT.

The more words we know, the more we are able to understand, and the better our ability to communicate. When Malcolm X went to prison, he thought he was pretty smart. He was horrified to learn that he was merely street-smart, and that a simple book was beyond him because he didn't have the vocabulary to understand it. He obtained a dictionary, and painstakingly, because his writing skills were low, too, began to copy every single page, including the keys below, and the guide words above. He found that the excellent memory that had sustained him on the streets worked with words, as well. He dreamed of words at night. He thought of words while eating and working. He lay in his cell at night and thought about words. A couple of months after he had begun copying, he again picked up a book and attempted to understand it. This time, he could!

"In my slow, painstaking, ragged handwriting, I copied into my tablet everything printed on that first page, down to the punctuation marks. I believe it took me a day. Then aloud, I read back, to myself, everything I'd written on the tablet. . . . I woke up the next morning, thinking about those words — immensely proud to realize that not only had I written so much at one time, but I'd written words that I never knew were in the world. . . No university would ask any student to devour literature as I did when this new world opened to me, of being able to read and understand. . .Months passed without my even thinking about being imprisoned. In fact, up to then, I had never been so truly free in my life." --Malcolm X

Oh, my dears, the WORDS, the magical, powerful words. . . . By choosing one over the other, we change our lives, and by changing our lives, we change the world.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Independence Day

2008-07-04T00:05:00.007-04:00

It's Independence Day. I'm going to pick a few buckets of blackberries and then I'm driving up to see my daughter and help her clean out her closet.

You know what this means, don't you. . . I'm going to score some clothes!

We used to go all-out for over-the-counter fireworks; my son and his friends were crazy about them. They were too young to buy them, so I did that little service for them, smiling sincerely at the clerk while I signed the document that assured the federal government that I wasn't going to USE the fireworks; I was just buying them so I could look at them. It was legal to buy them, but illegal to use them in any way that involved a lighted match.

I'm not going to say that there were no accidents involving fireworks in my back yard, but I did used to have TWO cherry trees back there.

And I think everybody's deck and sidewalk should have scorch marks on them; it tells people that once upon a time, kids lived here.

I do not like the loud "bangs," but I do love the spectacle in the sky. My ability to suffer fools decreases with each passing day, so I try to avoid crowds where there might be fools.

The Bible is harder on fools than on evil people, to which I say, YESS. Evil people can reform; fools stay stupid all their lives, and bring everyone around them down, as well.

I do not believe that Americans take the Fourth of July seriously enough, any more. It used to be huge deal, with entire communities taking part: leaders read the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence aloud as the audience recited in their heads along with him - yes, everyone used to be required to memorize important documents! Memorizing things was considered good exercise for the brain. Now, we've got kids who don't know their own middle names, and wouldn't know the second line to a nursery rhyme if they were offered cash for it. Sad, sad, and very, very bad. (I seriously believe that children who don't know a dozen nursery rhymes by heart before they ever set foot in any level of school have been raised poorly, and that their parents are fools.) (Don't get me started about stupid parents; you might not like what will happen.)

Independence Day is important. It should remind us of the many things we take for granted that citizens of other countries would give anything to have.

It should remind us of how our nation began, and what it stands for, and why we should never take any part of our freedoms for granted. It should make us remember to be grateful.

I'm happy that so many people want to live here and enjoy the freedom we offer; however, I do not believe we should be the ones who adapt. If someone moves here, that someone should do all the adapting. I firmly believe that. If they come here but refuse to adapt, why did they come here in the first place? I would NEVER expect another country to adapt its ways to mine; it would be my responsibility to do all the changing. I could do my own stuff at home. In public, I would adapt.

Independence Day is one of my favorite movies, and, corny as it may be, I love this speech by the President, portrayed by Bill Pullman.

And how many of us remember Ronald Reagan's speech to the U.N. on Sept. 21, 1987:

"In our obsession with antagonisms of the moment, we often forget how much unites all the members of humanity. Perhaps we need some outside, universal threat to make us recognize this common bond. I occasionally think how quickly our differences worldwide would vanish if we were facing an alien threat from outside this world."

I believe we ARE facing a universal threat right now, and that the rest of us need to recognize and join forces against it. We need to do whatever it might take, to alleviate this threat, for it seeks to wipe all decent people off the face of the earth. This is no different from an attack by evil aliens. My belief might be very politically incorrect, but when have I ever cared about that?

Never, that's when. It's this emphasis on political correctness that has allowed many evils to become powerful, and many important things to be shoved under the rug.

Any belief system that can't hold up under questioning is not a viable belief system. Any person whose sensibilities are offended by questions about his/her beliefs, and who can't abide other people's beliefs, and who don't wish to have anybody else's beliefs demonstrated in any way, are themselves the very fools who deserve the punishments fools have ultimately gotten for a thousand years.

I don't like fools. Nope, not a bit. They're just so, so, so. . . . foolish.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

What Gave It Away?

2008-07-03T23:57:00.003-04:00

We saw Hancock Wednesday, and it was enjoyable. The plot wasn't very well put together and it was full of holes, but it was enjoyable. I kind of wish I'd waited and just rented it for a buck next month, but oh well.

I like Will Smith, didn't even recognize Charlize Theron, and Jason Bateman stole the show.

And, while I'm in a rather, let us say, "uncharitable" mood tonight, I might also mention that Nancy Grace is in this movie, and honestly? IS there anyone on television today who is homelier, and has a more unpleasant way of speaking?

Also, the kid who played the French bully was good; I hate that type of kid and actually clapped my hands in glee when Hancock put him in orbit. Too bad we can't do that in real life.

Bad mood? Perhaps. Why do you ask?

(I love all of YOU, though.)

Perfect Post Award, June 2008 - I Remembered!!!

2008-07-01T03:18:00.002-04:00

I love to participate in the Perfect Post Awards! Unfortunately, I am not very organized, and the past few months, the deadline has slipped right past me. Not this time, though. Yee-haw, this time I'm right on it.

My nominee for the Perfect Post Award for June is Sigmund Carl, and Alfred for the post "The Other Sexual Freedom."

If you haven't read this post yet, what are you waiting for? It's FANTASTIC!!!!!!!

The Three Good Doctors are always fantastic.

Thank you, Lindsey and Kimberle, for allowing me to participate, and for thinking the whole thing up in the first place.

I always read every single Perfect Post blog, every month. I've put many of them on my Google Reader. Where do I find this list, you might ask? Why, on Suburban Turmoil and Petroville, that's where!

You should all know that! And now you do.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Quotation Saturday!!!

2008-06-28T00:05:00.003-04:00

Honestly, where does the time go? HOW does it go? I only know that it goes quickly.

I have two jobs, and because I love them both so very, very much, time flies by. I'm sure there is something Einsteinian about it, but explaining it is beyond me.

Perhaps it has something to do with the example of the stove: when you sit on a cold stove with a handsome guy, an hour seems like a minute, but when you sit on a hot stove, a minute seems like an hour. Or something like that. . . .

I'm messing up badly; let's look at some REAL quotations by people who knew what they were doing.

1. "An open foe may prove a curse, but a pretended friend is worse." --John Gay

2. "Histories are more full of examples of the fidelity of dogs than of friends." --Alexander Pope

3. " 'It can't happen here' is number one on the list of famous last words." --David Crosby

4. "No matter what a man's past may have been, his future is spotless." --John R. Rice

5. "There are very few monsters who warrant the fear we have of them." --Andre Gide

6. "The best way to predict the future is to create it." --Jason Kaufmann

7. "A man never knows what a fool he is until he hears himself imitated by one." --Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree

8. "The only people who never fail are those who never try." --Ilka Chase

9. "There is no fun in having nothing to do; the fun is having lots to do and not doing it." --Francis Herbert Bradley

10. "It is the familiar that usually eludes us in life. What is before our nose is what we see last." --Prof. William Barrett

11. "Fiction reveals truths that reality obscures." --Jessamyn West

12. "A fly, sir, may sting a stately horse and make him wince, but one is but an insect, and the other is a horse still." -Samuel Johnson

13. "It is the spirit of the age to believe that any fact, no matter how suspect, is superior to any imaginative exercise, no matter how true." --Gore Vidal

14. "Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better." --Samuel Beckett

15. "From fanaticism to barbarism is only one step." --Denis Diderot

16. "Nice guys may finish last, but they finish." --Washington DC safety slogan, 1967

17. "I respect faith, but doubt is what gets you an education." --Wilson Mizner

18. "We are all of us failures - at least, the best of us are." --Sir James Barrie

19. "Only fools and dead men don't change their minds. Fools won't and dead men can't." --John H. Patterson

20. "The best part of the fiction in many novels is the notice that the characters are all purely imaginary." --Franklin Pierce Adams

21. "There are two freedoms: the false, where on eis free to do what he likes, and the true, where he is free to do what he ought." --Charles Kingsley

22. "I never blame failure - there are too many complicated situations in life - but I am absolutely merciless towards lack of effort." --Francis Scott Key

23. "Facts are facts and will not disappear on account of your likes." --Nehru

24. "We create our own fate every day we live." --Henry Miller

25. "News is the first rough draft of history." --Ben Bradlee

26. "To be ignorant of one's ignorance is the malady of the ignorant." --Amos Bronson Alcott

27. "When they come downstairs from their ivory towers, idealists are apt to walk straight into the gutter." --Logan Pearsall Smith

28. "There is always one more imbecile than you counted on." --Anon.

29. "The harpsichord sounds like two skeltons copulating on a corrugated tin roof." --Sir Thomas Beecham

30. "The best things and best people rise out of their separateness. I'm against a homogenized society because I want the cream to rise." Robert Frost

31. "There are people who have money, and there are people who are rich." --Coco Chanel

32. "There's nothing so dangerous for manipulators as people who think for themselves." --Meg Greenfield

33. "The reason the way of the transgressor is hard is because it's so crowded." --Kin Hubbard

34. "I know the people you mean: they are all brains and theory and can't sew on a button." --G.C. Lichtenberg

35. "That scholarship which consists in the memorization of facts does not qualify one to be a teacher." --Confucius

36. "You will never 'find' time for anything. If you want time you must make it." --Charles Buxton

37. "There is plenty of room at the top, but not enough to sit down." --Fred Sharp

38. "I kissed my first woman and smoked my first cigarette on the same day. I have never had time for tobacco since." --Arturo Toscanini

39. "Teaching is not a lost art, but the regard for it is a lost tradition." --Jacques Barzun

40. "The times are not as bad as they seem; they couldn't be." --John Franklin Carter

41. "Men don't care what's on TV. They are about what else is on TV." --Orson Welles

42. "Sometimes when I consider what tremendous consequences come from little things - a chance word, a tap on the shoulder, or a penny dropped on a news stand - I am tempted to think. . . there are no little things." --Bruce Barton

43. "The world does not require so much to be informed, as reminded." --Hannah More

44. "The time is always right to do what is right." --Martin Luther King Jr.

45. "The trouble with the rat race is that even if you win, you're still a rat." --Lily Tomlin

46. "He who limps still walks." --Stanislaw Led

47. "The less a statesman amounts to, the more he loves the flag." --Kin Hubbard

48. "Although the world is very full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it." --Helen Keller

49. "Before there can be wonders, there must be wonder." --Anon.

50. "We are told that when Jehovah created the world, He saw that it was good. What would He say now?" --George Bernard Shaw

Fifty is a good, round number. There was even a time when I thought it was a large number. I remember when my mother turned thirty; I thought she was on her last legs. Then I turned thirty and the thoughts that ran through my mind were more like this: How could I be this old? I'm still amazed that my friends and I can DRIVE! I can't remember my locker combination!! I didn't know we were having a test today! Forty wasn't really all that bad; I was still flailing helplessly inside my head about driving and combination locks. Besides, at thirty and forty, my children took up all my energy and there really wasn't any "me." But fifty? How is even that number any different? I still have nightmares about not being able to remember my gym locker combination! And even now, the principal's office scares me.

I wonder if anyone ever really considers the principal's office a room like any other. I bet even the principal looks around his/her own office sometimes and hopes nobody calls his/her mother and tattles.

Okay, I just remembered how fifty is different from forty and thirty. Darn mirror.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Won't You Please, Please Tell Me What We've Learned. . . .

2008-06-27T17:40:00.002-04:00

Sometimes, a person just needs to hear The Logical Song. I know I do. I'm listening to it right now, in fact.

I hate it that the world is not fair. It ought to be fair! I hate it that children must eventually learn that the world is not fair. I wish our kids didn't have to lose so much innocence, but I'm not sure which is worse: an adult who is dangerously naive for his/her age, or an adult who has lost ALL innocence.

I do think, however, that our society has somehow evolved into a scenario that not only asks us to relinquish our innocence, but actually encourages us to do so while still young enough that we're supposed to still have it. I also believe that our society has DEvolved into a scenario wherein people who choose to give it away are considered enlightened and savvy, while people who choose to be chaste and pure until such time. . . are considered backward and provincial.

I sincerely believe that some people try to rationalize their own sketchy ethics and lack of self-control by putting down other people who have more will power and honor.

The Logical Song, by Supertramp

When I was young, it seemed that life was so wonderful,
A miracle, oh it was beautiful, magical.
And all the birds in the trees, well they'd be singing so happily,
Joyfully, playfully watching me.
But then they send me away to teach me how to be sensible,
Logical, responsible, practical.
And they showed me a world where I could be so dependable,
Clinical, intellectual, cynical.

There are times when all the world's asleep,
The questions run too deep
For such a simple man.
Won't you please, please tell me what we've learned
I know it sounds absurd
But please tell me who I am.

Now watch what you say or they'll be calling you a radical,
Liberal, fanatical, criminal.
Won't you sign up your name, we'd like to feel you're
Acceptable, respectable, presentable, a vegetable!

At night, when all the worlds asleep,
The questions run so deep
For such a simple man.
Won't you please, please tell me what we've learned
I know it sounds absurd
But please tell me who I am.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Everything In The World Should Be Arranged For MY Convenience!!!

2008-06-26T20:00:00.004-04:00

A post in two parts: The bragging, and the bitching.

Part I: Bragging

My daughter is cool. Smart, savvy, funny, and, well, COOL.

She isn't a person who is easily fooled, or sidetracked, or conned into believing that people who follow their hormones around like an ass follows a dangling carrot have anything important to say about "choice." I mean, other than it's all about THEM and what they want NOW and how any consequences aren't THEIR FAULT and society should GET RID OF THEM at TAXPAYER EXPENSE, blah blah blah cry me a river and if you'd keep your legs closed you wouldn't be knocked up blah blah blah etc, I don't care. Wah wah wah, I don't understand biology! How did this happen? Somebody pay for it! Boo hoo, asking people to think before they act is such an insult, blah blah blah, we're back in the dark ages if we have to be accountable for our own actions, ~~CHOICE CHOICE CHOICE~~ CONSEQUENCES CONSEQUENCES CONSEQUENCES, wahhh boo hoo, blah blah blah, shut up. Seriously. Please do.

My daughter is SMART. Mamacita don't raise them OTHER kind.

That's my girl. I adore her.

Now, back to me.

Um, I'm not all that cool. But I like to hang out with people who are!

Too bad "cool" doesn't rub off. Sigh.

Speaking of "cool," I'm rooming with akaMonty at Blogher next month! Fausta will be there, too!
And lots of other lovely, lovely people I've waited my whole blogging life to meet! (Hey, 4 1/2 years is a LONG TIME!)

I love blogging and I love BlogHer and I plan to love everybody there, too!

Part II: Bitching

One other thing, while I'm ranting. . . .

American Airlines didn't kick the screaming, raving, rolling-in-the-aisle toddler off the plane because he was autistic. The kid and his mother were removed because he was screaming, raving, and rolling in the aisles, and because the mother at first refused to put her bag in the overhead compartment (It's got his TOYS in it!), and because both got all bothered because the flight attendant was doing her job, which means, checking to make sure all the seatbelts were fastened properly. The attendant was perfectly justified in coming back several times to re-tighten the kid's belt because the kid kept loosening it and trying to run away, and his mother wasn't tightening it. I know it's hard, parenting an autistic child, but this incident isn't about autism. It's about airplane safety, and the rights of other people. This woman says that her family will "never fly American again!!!" (wahhh) Good. I've never cared for American Airlines either, but after this, I might give them another go.

I think that people often go completely off when they hear about a special needs person who isn't allowed to do something other people are doing, without first checking out what really happened. Any person whose behavior puts other people at risk simply can't be allowed to be there. Period.

Personally, I HATE being on a plane (or anywhere else) with an out-of-control person, and I really don't care about his/her age, size, ethnicity, gender, or any letters of the alphabet that might be in his/her medical or permanent record file. I was once on a plane with a grown woman who freaked out and insisted that all the window shades be closed because looking at the ground made her sick.

I'm sure all those people who were enjoying the scenery loved her for that one.

The flight attendants refused to make that request and the woman actually WAILED, all the way to Denver. I feel bad that nobody felt sorry for her. (Not really; I still hate her.) (Such presumption!)

Again, I'm sorry as I can be for this family. But I do not believe they were treated unfairly in any way.

Shhhh, I think I can hear all the other passengers, past, present, and future, from every airline in the universe, applauding. . . .

Okay, parents, let me have it! You know you want to. I'm not going to budge an inch, and neither are you, so this should be good.

Apparently, many of the parenting, autism, and special needs forums are going bonkers about the airline's shoddy treatment of this kid. I think these people need to get their facts straight. This has nothing whatsoever to do with special needs, and everything to do with safety, adherence to the regulations, and the rights of EVERYBODY ELSE IN THE PLANE.

Special needs or not: if your kid can't behave and you can't make him, drive your own car. Don't inflict that on the rest of the world and then be all outraged because accommodations that would actually endanger the child and everyone else, aren't made, just for YOUUUUUU.

What's the next step? Removing the peanuts? Because, what's a flight without the peanuts?

As long as I'm infuriating people anyway, I think the church was in the right, too.

You know, I'm nice, really I am. I just think everyone else should be, too. Or else.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

George Carlin -- May 12, 1937 - June 22, 2008: The Whole World Will Miss This Incredible Man!

2008-06-24T00:00:00.005-04:00

George Carlin was a brilliant mastermind of the human condition, and one of the funniest men in the world.

Until a few hours ago, he and Eddie Izzard were tied for the honor of "funniest man in the world." Now, Eddie, this honor is all yours; please use the lessons George taught you. I know you will.

I admired George Carlin so much, and for so many reasons, one of the main reasons being his complete and total hatred of euphemisms. (not safe for work or in the hearing of small children or prudes)

Besides being brain-dazzlingly funny, Carlin was also savvy and observant, and if the government had only listened to him and done what he said, the world would be a far better place.

"I'm not concerned about all hell breaking loose, but that a PART of hell will break loose. It'll be much harder to detect."

"If it's true that our species is alone in the universe, then I'd have to say that the universe aimed rather low and settled for very little."

"If lawyers are disbarred and clergymen defrocked, doesn't it follow that electricians can be delighted, musicians denoted?"

"It's never just a game when you're winning."

"Some national parks have long waiting lists for camping reservations. When you have to wait a year to sleep next to a tree, something is wrong."

"Think of how stupid the average person is, and realize half of them are stupider than that."

"I don't have hobbies; hobbies cost money. Interests are quite free."

" I thought about how mothers feed their babies with tiny little spoons and forks so I wondered, what do Chinese mothers use? Toothpicks?"

"Ever notice that anyone going slower than you is an idiot, but anyone going faster is a maniac?"

"The IQ and the life expectancy of the average American recently passed each other going in opposite directions."

"Isn't it a bit unnerving that doctors call what they do "practice?"

"When you're born you get a ticket to the freak show. When you're born in America, you get a front row seat."

"At a formal dinner party, the person nearest death should always be seated closest to the bathroom."

"Fighting for peace is like screwing for virginity."

"Some people see things that are and ask, Why? Some people dream of things that never were and ask, Why not? Some people have to go to work and don't have time for all that."

"The main reason Santa is so jolly is because he knows where all the bad girls live."

"When you step on the brakes your life is in your foot's hands."

"If someone with multiple personalities threatens to kill himself, is it considered a hostage situation?"

"I went to a bookstore and asked the saleswoman, “Where’s the self-help section? ” She said if she told me, it would defeat the purpose."

"What if there were no hypothetical questions?"

"If a man is standing in the middle of the forest speaking and there is no woman around to hear him. . . is he still wrong? (yes)"

"If a turtle doesn’t have a shell, is he homeless or naked?"

"Why don’t sheep shrink when it rains?"

"I've always wanted to be somebody, but I should have been more specific."

"You have to stay in shape. My mother started walking five miles a day when she was 60. She's 97 now and we have no idea where she is."

"One out of every three Americans is suffering from some form of mental illness. Think of two of your best friends. If they are OK, then it must be you."

"People who say they don't care what people think are usually desperate to have people think they don't care what people think."

"Religion convinced the world that there's an invisible man in the sky who watches everything you do. And there's 10 things he doesn't want you to do or else you'll go to a burning place with a lake of fire until the end of eternity. But he loves you! And he needs money! He's all powerful, but he can't handle money!"

"A lady came up to me on the street, pointed at my suede jacket and said, "Don't you know a cow was murdered for that jacket?" I said, "I didn't know there were any witnesses. Now I'll have to kill you too.""

"I have six locks on my door, all in a row. When I go out, I lock every other one. I figure no matter how long somebody stands there picking the locks, they are always locking three of them."

"The very existence of flame-throwers proves that some time, somewhere, someone said to themselves, You know, I want to set those people over there on fire, but I'm just not close enough to get the job done."

"What's all this stuff about motivation? I say, if you need motivation, you probably need more than motivation. You probably need chemical intervention or brain surgery. Actually, if you ask me, this country could do with a little less motivation. The people who are causing all the trouble seem highly motivated to me."

"Who decides when the applause should die down? It seems like it's a group decision; everyone begins to say to themselves at the same time, "Well, okay, that's enough of that."

"Why is there an expiration date on sour cream?"

"Wonderful Wino" was the first George Carlin routine I ever heard; I still have the 33 rpm record. My entire family loved this routine, and all the other innocent yet snarky routines on that album. When George Carlin came to the IU auditorium, Mom and Dad were ecstatic, and bought tickets for the whole family, including my Tumorless Sister and my Baby Brother, who were just little bitty kids at the time.

Unfortunately, this was just after Carlin had released "Seven Words You Can't Say On Television," and the majority of the show featured these words in various forms and contexts. Mom grabbed Tumorless and sat in the lobby with her while Dad and Bro watched the rest of the show.

I tried to warn them but they didn't believe me.

Here's "Wonderful Wino." Enjoy.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Upside-Down Tomatoes! Thank You, Steve Spangler!

2008-06-22T17:00:00.005-04:00

This is my upside-down grape cherry tomato plant! I just hung it up this afternoon ( oops, sorry about the potting soil on the bucket. . . .) It won't be long 'til I have a cascade of tomatoes hanging on my deck, free of weeds, and easy to pick! Such fun!!!!

Thank you, Steve Spangler Science, for showing me how!

Steve's going to be on "Ellen" again tomorrow, so check your TV Guide and don't miss it.

And look, there on top of the thermometer! I see the box-cutter I used to make the tomato-hole in the bucket! I wondered where I put that. . . . That's not really the kind of thing a person should lose track of, either. Ouch.

I'm also going to order several of Steve's Geyser Tubes. The Fourth of July is fast approaching, you know, and a few Mentos Geysers are a lot more fun than bottle rockets or firecrackers or any extremely loud dangerous spark-producing thing your kids might want.

See what I mean?

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Quotation Saturday

2008-06-22T00:49:00.004-04:00

I really appreciate all the supportive comments on my previous post. Thank you; I feel much better now. I hope to get word of a decision on Monday.

I spent most of today with family, and I am all the better for it.

Now, on with the show!

"By perseverance, the snail reached the Ark." --C.H. Spurgeon

"I don't like these cold, precise, perfect people who, in order not to speak wrong, never speak at all, and in order not to do wrong, never do anything." --Henry Ward Beecher

"Not so much what a man says in the pulpit, but what he does out of the pulpit, gives power to the ministry." --Henry Berkowitz

"To preach pie in the sky and to do nothing about the knife in a man's back is hardly Christianity." --Ugo Groppi

"Prejudices are rarely overcome by argument; not being founded in reason, they cannot be destroyed by logic." --Tryon Edwards

"Power without responsibility: the prerogative of the harlot throughout the ages." --Rudyard Kipling

"Praying can no more be made a substitute for smiling that smiling can for praying." --Henry Ward Beecher

"Whenever a man has cast a longing eye on a political office, a rottenness begins in his conduct." --Thomas Jefferson

"Politics are usually the executive expression of human immaturity." --Vera Brittain

"Treat people as if they were what they ought to be, and you help them to become what they are capable of being." --Goethe

"The past is a guidepost, not a hitching post." --Thomas Holcroft

"To give pleasure to a single heart by a single kind act is better than a thousand head-bowings in prayer." --Sadd

"Philosophers have argued for centuries about how many angels can dance on the head of a pin, but materialists have always known that it depends on whether they are jitterbugging or dancing cheek to cheek." --Tom Robbins

"Not to be able to bear poverty is a shameful thing, but not to know how to chase it away by work is a more shameful thing yet." --Anon

"Everyone is a philosopher. Not everyone is good at it." --Alfred North Whitehead

"A healthy male adult bore consumes each year one and a half times his own weight in other peoples' patience." --John Updike, Jr.

"When man ultimately faces his Maker, he will have to account to Him for those God-given pleasures of life of which he did not take full advantage." --Anon

"I have no more patience than anyone else. It's just that I use mine." --Paderewski

"It is remarkable how many impure things a prude can discover that nobody else can discover." --Anon

"I always wanted to be somebody, but I should have been more specific." -Lily Tomlin

"When you're through changing, you're through." --Bruce Barton

"We must interpret a bad temper as a sign of inferiority." --Alfred Adler

"Don't accept rides from strange men, and remember that all men are as strange as hell." --Robin Morgan

"The mome rath isn't born that could outgrabe me." --Nicol Williamson

One more diet coke and off to bed with me. No, the caffeine doesn't bother me at all. Good night.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

I Have Failed

2008-06-19T21:46:00.003-04:00

I have a student this summer over whom I am obsessing because I can not help him. This does happen occasionally and I beat myself up over it each and every time. Even though I know better in my head, in my heart I just know that if only I were smarter and more compassionate and better prepared and kinder and more considerate and less snarky and more willing to let the class standards go by the wayside and less inclined to raise my left eyebrow in derision and in general a nicer person altogether, maybe this student would make it.

I also know that even with all those things together, he isn't going to make it. He isn't going to make it because he doesn't have what it takes, and this time it isn't the fault of all the years of schooling behind him, or his parents, or his former teachers, or his upbringing, or any bad habits he might have, or peer pressure, or drugs, or alcohol, or any of the things educators like to draw attention to when a student isn't going to make it.

It isn't my fault, either. Or his.

This student isn't going to make it because whatever fates might be screwed with the combination of genes and chromosomes and brain cells allotted to him at birth, and what the kid does have, ain't working right.

This breaks my heart, and even understanding this, I still blame myself for not knowing how to reach him.

The other students are complaining now, and something must be done. I've reported it, and all we can do is wait.

Once a decision is made, I will have to live with that, too. The way will be made clear for the rest of the class, but I will always see an empty seat and wish I could have had what it took to reach him.

It isn't me, but it IS me. Why can't I help this student?

I know that sometimes the best way to help is to allow someone else to do it, but I don't like acknowledging that I can not find the key to unlock the door to a student's head.

I also do not like myself for being annoyed by his mannerisms and outbursts and inability to do the simplest things and his coming to class without pencils or paper and his tendency to get up and walk out several times daily and his coming to class twenty minutes or so late every day even though I saw him in the hall an hour before class started, and the way he follows me around shouting and laughing until I have to duck into the restroom to ditch him. I don't like myself for wanting to ditch him. I don't like myself for not being able to help him control himself so the other students can learn.

This isn't fifth grade. This is college. How did this happen? There are no IEP's at this level, but we do have "accommodation sheets." This student does not have one.

The others in the class can't work well with the noise and the movement and the shouted statements that are so blatantly age-inappropriate, and already one of the female students has complained about the staring. And no, we do not make our way around Venice "on a WOCKET!!! Pwanets gots WOCKETS" I had to count that one wrong, too.

If this were middle school, I would know what to do. It's not middle school, however; it's college, and these kinds of behaviors can not be tolerated. I know how to handle children and teens who behave like this, but these students are adults, and I, as well as the other students, are thrown for a loop.

Does anyone have any advice for me? What could I have done? What should I have done? Does one student have the right to disrupt and slow down and upset the other students at the college level? At ANY level?

I will hear back from people in an official capacity soon, probably tomorrow. I know they will know what to do.

I also know that I did not know what to do. Right now I don't like myself very well. I feel like a failure. I would not hurt this student's feelings for anything, but there are other students with feelings, too. These people paid a lot of money to take this class, and it's not fair for them to have to put up with this. I had to report it. I hate it, but I did it.

But what else could I have done? Anybody?

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Ten Things Thursday, Plus The Solstice Moon

2008-06-18T19:55:00.006-04:00

Many of the Blogosphere neighbors participate in Ten Things Thursday, but I never had until tonight. It's not that I deliberately turned my back on it or anything; I just didn't do it. I could make up a better excuse, I suppose, and say that every time I started to make my list, something catastrophic happened and I was forced, much against my will, to cease and desist immediately, but I don't think any of you would be fooled. Besides, it's still Wednesday.

Gotcha.

Ten Things Thursday, by Mamacita:

. . . and by the way, these are in no particular order.

1. Every few days, I drink the juice of a dozen or more raw lemons, over ice. Sometimes, if I have more lemons, I have another glass. Lemon juice satisfies something in me. I've tried to figure out what it might be but still haven't come to any conclusions.

2. Sometimes I get so lost in thought that I don't want to ever come back.

3. It's a good thing I don't have to pay interest on all the trouble I've borrowed.

4. I kill myself daily, worrying about other people's problems and assorted things that I have no control over.

5. I prefer the smaller, "original" roads far more than the impersonal interstates. Unless I'm in a hurry.

6. When I'm away from home, I love to eat in local restaurants. Why would I choose some chain that I could lunch at right here when there are so many tantalizing NEW places to try, someplace else?

7. Cooking for a crowd is one of life's biggest pleasures.

8. I tried to count all of my books once, but finally had to admit defeat. I consider this an awesome thing.

9. In the summer, I like to re-read my favorite children's and YA novels. I began as I always do, with Frances Hodgeson Burnett's "A Little Princess," (for whom I named my daughter) "The Secret Garden," and "Little Lord Fauntleroy." I'm plowing through Judy Bolton right now; she's far superior to Nancy Drew, although I like the Nancy's, too.

10. I have been fascinated with astronomy since before I was in kindergarten. When I was in the second grade, I fell in love with a book called "Young Visitors to Mars," by Richard Elam. I checked it out from the library every single time I went, until Mom finally forbade me to bring it into the house again. I searched for this book for many years with no success, but when I was in my late twenties, I took my children to a huge library sale, so big it was held at the Armory. Public libraries from all over Indiana had contributed to it. There are no words to describe how thrilled I was to find this book at the bottom of a box of old novels: unclaimed, and unwanted by anybody but me. I bought it for a quarter, brought it home, and read it again. It was corny as all get-out but the thrill was still there. It still is, in fact. Published in 1953, it was. Old sci-fi is great fun; I love to read the author's predictions and assumptions about life in the. . . 1970's. Apparently, we had colonized Mars by then.

I really don't know how and why my obsession with the night sky began. Dad showed me a few constellations, and Santa brought me a telescope when I was a little kid, but the rest I did by myself. Well, me AND the public library. I'm still in love with the night sky.

I do not fear the dark. The darker the night, the brighter the stars.

Speaking of which. . . .

Please remember that tonight's moon is brought to you by Solstice Illusion and MUST BE SEEN BY YOU AND BY YOUR CHILDREN - Yes, let them stay up late enough to see it - in fact, all of you should watch the moonrise tonight; it will be a memory-maker for you all - your kids will still be talking about it when they're old and grey and you're long dead - it's going to be FANTASTIC - and when did anyone ever see such a dreadful sentence anywhere, ever?

I mean besides right here.

I have. Sigh.

It's going to be a long summer session.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Contemplations

2008-06-18T01:03:00.003-04:00

I love to walk on the track at night.

I like the darkness, and the privacy, and the fact that nobody can see me in my shorts. I love matching my steps to the rhythm of whatever song is playing on the tiny clothespin Mp3 player clipped to my collar. This means I change my pace all the time which I'm sure looks goofy but who can see that in the dark?

I think about books I've read or want to read, and movies I've seen or want to see. I put myself inside books and movies I've seen and loved, and in my head, everything has a happy ending.

I think about the people in my life, and how much I love and appreciate most of them, and how I wonder why lightning hasn't struck some of them dead.

Tonight, the moon was full and the air smelled like freshly mown honeysuckle. I associate the smell of honeysuckle with walking on the track, in fact.

I need to get different earphones; the ones I used tonight were made for someone with ears like bat wings.

Four laps equals one mile on the high school track. Tonight I did a mile and a half and might have done more but I made the mistake of stopping, and this messed me up. As long as I keep going, I can keep going, but once I stop, I'm done.

I don't like to wear sneakers. They make my feet feel huge and heavy. I'm a sandals and loafers kind of gal. Better still are the bare feet, but only in my own house. Other people's homes deserve more consideration than that.

I'm not the kind of person who requires people to remove their shoes before entering my house, however. In MY house, people are welcome, not considered soilers of my sacred carpets.

I feel contented tonight. Conversation and walking on the track and music. Nice. If YOU had been there, it would have been perfect!

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Jilted

2008-06-17T01:27:00.001-04:00

I do love me some more Puppini Sisters.

It's A Puzzlement

2008-06-15T16:58:00.004-04:00

The staircases at the college are tall and steep and spiral-ish. Why don't I ever see anybody slide down? Is it all those cameras?

Wouldn't you think a witch's tit would be hot, not cold?

Why is it that when you go to bed at night, the weeds and the flowers are the same height, but when you get up the next ~~morning~~ day, the weeds are a foot tall and have grown a big seedpod?

Why does the grass in the "weedeater section" grow so much faster than the regular grass in the lawn?

How does it happen that I, a person who hates watermelon and all other foods that have the word "melon" in them, am so good at picking out a prime one?

Don't you all love local similes? "Dumber than Dode Mockey." "He could eat corn through a picket fence." "She looks like she's been rode hard and put up wet." A little jewel about a brick shithouse. There's another one Dad used to say, but I can't remember it. Tumorless Sister? A little help here?

If all the drive-throughs in all the restaurants in the world had a device that would instantly eject any car that dared to place a 'special order' during rush hour, that would be an awesomely wonderful thing.

Wouldn't it be cool if elevators had an invisible shield that refused to allow anyone who smelled like smoke, too much perfume, or just general stank, to enter?

Why do restaurants offer my favorite things only as occasional specials?

It's almost a hundred degrees, and not one soft drink company has anything on sale. Eight bucks for Coke? I don't think so; totally not worth it. Marsh, here I come.

It might be almost a hundred degrees, but taking your child out in public wearing only a diaper or, far worse, underpants, is just plain nasty. NASTY!

Even nastier is putting your kid in a public pool, wearing only that diaper. NASTIER.

Please notice that the positive degree of "nasty" is, indeed, "nasty. However, the comparative degree - two and only two - requires that we change the "y" to "i" and add "er." If I were to use the superlative degree - three or more - I would still change the "y" to "i" and add "est." This word changes in this way because it's a little word. Bigger words add "more" or "most," and NO WORDS use both. Why doesn't everyone know this? I find this one of the most frustratingest things when scoring essays. Really, it's one of the maddeningest things ever. More grosser than you can even imagine.

"Anyway" NEVER has an "s" at the end. Never. Ever. No no no no no no not ever. "Anyways" is the answer to the question, "What's your IQ?"

My cats have been flea-and-tick-treated at the vet. Now, when a tick jumps on one of them, it immediately leaps off and onto my arm. A tick walking on top of your arm hairs is juuuust enough sensation to wake you up. About this, I have only one thing to say: "AAAAAAAAAGH!"

As I type, there is a little dainty gray cat napping on top of my computer mouse. I find this adorable, and not in the least puzzling. It's a mouse, isn't it?

Expensive cat food gives my cats bad breath. Cheap cat food doesn't. Go figure.

I find myself talking to my cats and expecting them to understand and react as if they were humans. Then I catch myself, get a few giggles at my expense, and do it again.

That stack of essays isn't going to grade itself, you know. But wouldn't it be cool if it did?

My kids came down today and I served them Spanish hamburgers, corn on the cob, baked beans, deviled eggs, and freshly home-bought Lay's chips. I feel bad because I didn't bake a birthday cake for Belle, but it was almost a hundred degrees!

Which brings me back to that point about the witch's tit. . . . .

Yul was right.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Happy Father's Day, Dad. Happy Birthday, Princess.

2008-06-14T23:55:00.006-04:00

Today is Father's Day, but it's also my daughter's birthday. She's over 21, if anyone wants to ask me any questions.

She used to be the most beautiful baby girl in the universe, but not any more. She hasn't been that for a long time.

She is, however, the most beautiful young woman in the universe. She's strong and brave and smart and hilarious. Her sense of direction is almost perfect. Her sense of ethics and behavior are superior. She can sing like an angel. She can walk into an expensive dress shop and walk out with a $300.00 dress that she got for twelve bucks and matching $125.00 shoes that cost eight. Um, the honest way. She's kind and caring and patient, unless she's dealing with an idiot in which case she, sadly, takes after me. She's the best daughter any mother could ever hope to have, even when she takes the occasional pissy fit, and even then a good margarita will fix that mood swing right up. Mommy knows how to take care of her baby girl.

I didn't teach her to stick her head in a waterfall, but only because the subject never came up.

Happy Birthday, Princess.

My dad has been gone for several years now, but we never really ever stop missing the people we love. We recover, and get on with our lives, but the memories are still there, and aren't we all glad they are?

Dad wasn't perfect, not by a long shot. He and all of his brothers and their father before them were quick-tempered and easy to, as Mom used to say, "set off." He was also funny and smart; he could sing and he valued education, HIGHLY. He would have been a success at college, but he never went. Instead, he sent four kids through college, and continued to work day after day in a factory, "so we would never have to."

My Other Sister and I had a daddy who was playful and laughing. My two younger siblings had a daddy who was cranky and yelling. Dad's illness began long before anybody realized it, including himself, and the personality changes were just brushed aside as part of the aging process or, possibly, his true colors. Nobody actually said "true colors," but we all thought it.

By the time dad had had both legs amputated and was bedridden and too weak to feed himself or turn over, we all realized that the diabetes had begun to affect his mind long before it took his body.

He stayed at home and Mom took care of him. I don't think she went anywhere for three or four years, except her runs to the grocery and drugstores while Dad was at dialysis.

My father is gone, but he still lives in my head, daily. And to that loving and playful and laughing and singing father, I want to say, "Happy Father's Day, Daddy."

I knew all along that mean yelling daddy wasn't really you.

So, today, June 15, I salute my beautiful baby daughter AND the daddy I loved.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Quotation Saturday

2008-06-14T00:05:00.003-04:00

It's Quotation Saturday again - where did the week go? Time is flying by faster and faster these days. Is it that darn pesky "old age" thing, or is it just because my life is more and more interesting now? Perhaps a bit of both. I'm thinking maybe more that "interesting" choice than that other, far more icky, choice.

Not "interesting" as in the ancient Chinese curse "Maybe you live in interesting times," but "interesting" as in "cool."

"I won't insult your intelligence by suggesting that you really believe what you just said." -- William F. Buckley

"The most violent element in society is ignorance." --Emma Goldman

"It is only possible to live happily ever after on a day-to-day basis." --Margaart Bonnano

"You don't get harmony when everybody sings the same note." --Doug Floyd

"The world is moving so fast these days that the man who says it can't be done is generally interrupted by someone doing it." --Elbert Hubbard

"What has made this nation great? Not its heroes, but its households." --Sara Josepha Hale

"I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense once hate is gone, that they will be forced to deal with pain." --James Baldwin

"We're all of us guinea pigs in the laboratory of God. Humanity is just a work in progress. -- Tennessee Williams

"When your heart speaks, take good notes." --Judith Campbell

"A drop of ink may make a million think." --Lord Byron

"In the first place God made idiots. This was for practice. Then He made school boards." --Mark Twain (one of my favorite quotations)

"Gross ignorance: 144 times worse than ordinary ignorance." --Bennett Cerf

"I can't understand why people are frighted of new ideas. I'm frighted of the old ones." --John Cage

"Imagination has always had powers of resurrection that no science can match." --Ingrid Bengis

"What I am is good enough if I would only be it openly." --Carl Rogers

"In the face of uncertainty, there is nothing wrong with hope." --Dr. Bernie Siegel

"Man is free. The coward makes himself cowardly. The hero makes himself heroic." --Jean-Paul Sartre

"Nothing is impossible for the man who doesn't have to do it himself." --A.H. Weiler

"To invent, you need a good imagination and a pile of junk." --Thomas Edison

"Nobody can be exactly like me. Sometimes even I have trouble doing it." --Tallulah Bankhead

"A sense of humor is a sense of proportion." --Kahlil Gibran

"Our job is not to straighten each other out, but to help each other up." --Neva Cole

"There is nothing more horrible than imagination without taste." --Goethe

"Imagination is the eye of the soul." --Joseph Joubert

". . . nothing for preserving the body like having no heart." --John Petit-Senn

"Ingratitude is sooner or later fatal to its author." --Tivi (West African) proverb

"Don't part with your illusions. When they are gone you may still exist but you have ceased to live." --Mark Twain

And, finally:

"My advice to you is not to inquire why or whither, but just enjoy the ice cream while it's on your plate." --Thornton Wilder

I do love ice cream. Lately, I've been craving it. Probably because of the heat.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Remember These?

2008-06-13T22:47:00.006-04:00

I bet some of you younger bloggers don't know what this is. Mine were red.

How about this ice cube tray? Mom had two of these, and in the summer, with four kids, the ice went pretty fast, especially when nobody in the house had the decency to refill the tray when they cranked the ice loose and used it. An interesting point, though, is that back then, a cold drink usually meant straight from the refrigerator; ice in a drink was a restaurant thing. Knowing that then, and remembering it now, still doesn't make me hate people who put a partially-filled ice cube tray back in the freezer any less.

I still have my gum-wrapper chain from high school. It's almost fifteen feet long, and it's hanging from a hook on the laundry room wall. We used to sit in the gym during basketball games and add links to our chains.

That's a lot of gum, people. Big Red and Juicy Fruit were much sought-after because the bright red and bright yellow made for a classy-lookin' gum-wrapper chain. What were they for? I don't remember. But they were fun!

Finally, how many of you remember the tv test pattern? That's right, young ones, there used to be a time - and there are people still living who remember it - when all television stations "signed off" at midnight, and there was NOTHING on tv until 6 a.m. or so when they all signed back on. There were no VCR's or DVD players, either. If you had insomnia or a newborn child, your only options were a VERY few radio stations (most of them signed off, too!) or some records, in which case you probably had to use that first picture up there at the top of this post so you could play your 45's.

But all night long, if you turned on your TV, all you'd get was one of these test patterns, and a shrill siren. The siren was what woke you up after you fell asleep in your chair, watching tv.

Were those the good old days? For some people, sure. The same way today will be one of the good old days to some of you some day.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Many Things Thursday

2008-06-11T22:26:00.003-04:00

Mr. Teacher blogs over at Learn Me Good. He likes to tell people that he has forty children, all with different mothers, and this week he's hosting The Carnival of Education.

Get over there NOW and see what's going on in the world of Education. Remember, if you don't keep up, you forfeit all whining rights.

It's summer now, and your kids might become bored at some point. Fear not. Just sign up for Steve Spangler's Experiment of the Week, and your kids will not only have plenty to do, they'll get smarter! It's free and it's fun. Go for it.

It's Wednesday and it didn't rain today! Not at all! Not even a drop! This sunny day was obviously some freak of nature, as it went against the trend of violent gushing thunderstorms that have been the norm so far this summer.

Interstate highways are dissolving, or breaking apart and floating away. If you want to get from Indianapolis to any place down here, you'd better pack a lunch because it's going to take a while. On the plus side, you'll get to drive on a little road and go through several small towns! You'll get to actually SEE SOMETHING! On the minus side, you'll have to drive on a little road and go through several small towns.

A few days ago, the college students were kayaking down Kirkwood Avenue and swimming shoulder-deep in the middle of campus. Today, the water was gone and traffic was back to normal in town. However, I've seen the forecast for the rest of this ~~century~~ week, so we'd best not put away those kayaks and inner tubes just yet.

Belle sent flood pics.

I'm glad my house is on a rise.

I managed to get some grass cut this evening, too! I didn't finish, because I haven't figured out how to turn on the mower's headlights yet - we've only had this mower for ten years or so - and when it got too dark to see, I had to quit.

Another strange sight tonight was the moon! I hadn't seen it for weeks! It had a big ring around it so guess what, but still. The moon! No stars, but the moon was up there. It was like seeing an old friend. An old friend bearing bad news and spewing omens, but an old friend nonetheless.

This is the first week of summer session and so far, so good. I did have a student who asked to borrow a pencil and a sheet of paper, but from the looks on the faces of the other students, I think I'll probably be able to rely on peer pressure to straighten the kid out.

It's humid as a swamp and hotter than the surface of Mercury and you can actually see the air shimmering, much like a desert oasis. And, naturally, our air conditioning isn't working. Why should it? I mean, we NEED it, so of course it shuts down.

I drove the mower under a walnut tree that is covered with wild grapevines, and it was so dusky I couldn't see exactly where they were, so I drove right straight into them. Little pieces of woody vine are falling down my shirt as I type; I just touched my hair and apparently I'm woodier than a. . . . Okay, so not going there.

Off to the showers with me.

I was going to compare my situation with that of Baucis and Philemon. What were YOU thinking?

I love mythology. Baucis and Philemon have so many elements that carried over into the Christian church: water into wine, entertaining gods (angels) unaware, Great Flood, destroying the population because they were all evil, sparing two who showed kindness, telling them not to look back. . . and when Paul and Barnabas began their discipleship journeys, people thought they were Zeus and Hermes, because it was they who visited Baucis and Philemon and did all those things in their home.

Do I digress? Well, YEAH. Thass what I do.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Cellist in a Funky Shirt

2008-06-10T00:36:00.003-04:00

I do love a cello, and Andrew Lloyd Webber's brother Julian is one of the most creative cellists I've ever heard. I also love his funky shirts, worn when all the others at the party are wearing tuxes.

This video is a tiny segment from the Royal Albert Hall Celebration, which I have to watch at least once a year.

Oh, okay, my daughter would "out" me anyway, so I'll just go ahead and admit that I also love the Boyzone performance from the same RAH Celebration. Although, they look more like Manzone to me.

Please feel free to mock me. I'm used to it by now.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

I Stole This From Mommak, She Stole It From Miss Britt, and I Hope You Steal It From Me

2008-06-08T13:13:00.003-04:00

MommaK stole it from Miss Britt, and I stole it from MommaK. Please feel free to steal it from me.

The Rules: Bold the things you can do and you leave in normal type the things you can’t. Sarcastic comments in parenthesis are encouraged.

1. Give advice that matters in one sentence. (Buck up and show some spunk.) (They're not coming over to inspect the house; they're coming to see us. ) (Don't talk about politics with a bump on a log.)

2. Tell if someone is lying. (I’m the world’s biggest sucker.)

3. Take a photo. (I’m good, honest. Everyone I know really has red eyes.)

4. Score a baseball game. (Just because I can doesn’t mean I will.)

5. Name a book that matters. (All of my books matter!)

6. Know at least one musical group as well as is possible. ( No, not THAT well; it’s my brother.)

7. Cook meat somewhere other than the grill. (I could survive indefinitely in the woods. I don’t even need a grill.)

8. Not monopolize the conversation. (I’m a listener.)

9. Write a letter. (A skill everyone should have, and no, email isn’t really a letter..)

10. Buy a suit. (You mean, like Ward Cleaver and Joan Crawford wore to work?)

11. Swim three different strokes. (Basic, dog-paddle, and tread water. The world might not count those but I do.)

12. Show respect without being a suck-up. (I really do respect a lot of people.)

13. Throw a punch. (Lay a hand on my kids and you’ll find out.)

14. Chop down a tree. (Like Paul Bunyan.)

15. Calculate square footage. (I didn’t realize there would be any math on the meme. . . .)

16. Tie a bow tie. (Why? Did Wally Cox come back from the dead?)

17. Make one drink, in large batches, very well. (I own a punch bowl and I used it once. . . .)

18. Speak a foreign language. (One of my biggest regrets, and it’s not too late yet..)

19. Approach a woman/man out of his/her league. (I always consider everyone to be out of my league..)

20. Sew a button. (I can whip up a passable Halloween costume overnight.)

21. Argue with a European without getting xenophobic or insulting soccer. (Can we talk about literature and music?)

22. Give a woman an orgasm so that he doesn’t have to ask after it. (Bad grammar merits no attention.)

23. Be loyal. (Absolutely.)

24. Know his poison, without standing there, pondering like a dope. (Of course. I know yours, too.)

25. Drive an eightpenny nail into a treated two-by-four without thinking about it. (Duh. Everyone should know the basic life skills.)

26. Cast a fishing rod without shrieking or sighing or otherwise admitting defeat. (You didn’t say it had to be done well.)

27. Play gin with an old guy. (And I like to play euchre with old guys.)

28. Play go fish with a kid. (. . . as long as the kid lets me win at least one round.)

29. Understand quantum physics well enough that he can accept that a quarter might, at some point, pass straight through the table when dropped. (I adore quantum physics! )

30. Feign interest. (. . . like a paid escort!)

31. Make a bed. (. . . which doesn’t mean I do it on a daily basis.)

32. Describe a glass of wine in one sentence without using the terms nutty, fruity, oaky, finish, or kick. ( “Tart!”) (I loathe sweet wine)

33. Hit a jump shot in pool. (I love to play pool.)

34. Dress a wound. (First aid instructor at Camp Towaki – Place Where Friends Meet)

35. Jump-start a car. Change a flat tire. Change the oil. (I CAN if I have to, but I greatly fear sparks and flammable substances together.)

36. Make three different bets at a craps table. (I’m a Blackjack girl, myself.)

37. Shuffle a deck of cards. (like a Vegas dealer.)

38. Tell a joke. (I can tell it; the laughing-at-the-right-place is YOUR job.)

39. Know when to split his cards in blackjack.

40. Speak to an eight-year-old so he/she will hear. (It’s all in the facial expression and bribe.)

41. Speak to a waiter so he will hear. (See previous answer.)

42. Talk to a dog so it will hear. (I talk to cats.)

43. Install: a disposal, an electronic thermostat, or a lighting fixture without asking for help.

44. Ask for help. (Practice makes perfect.)

45. Break another man’s grip on his wrist. ( In girl-fights, there are no rules.)

46. Tell a woman’s dress size. (My own is huge, and I always assume all other women wear a 4.)

47. Recite one poem from memory. ( How about HUNDREDS?)

48. Remove a stain.

49. Say no. ( I always feel guilty, but I’ve learned to do it.)

50. Fry an egg sunny-side up.

51. Build a campfire. ( See #7 up there.)

52. Step into a job no one wants to do. (I’m a mommy. Need I say more? )

53. Sometimes, kick some ass. (I can’t do it for myself, but I can do it for you.)

54. Break up a fight. (I’m a teacher. What do you think?.)

55. Point to the north at any time. (I need landmarks.)

56. Create a play-list in which ten seemingly random songs provide a secret message to one person.

57. Explain what a light-year is.

58. Avoid boredom. (Bored? There is always something to do around here! )

59. Write a thank-you note. (No, children, email and phone calls do not count!.)

60. Be brand loyal to at least one product. (ketchup)

61. Cook bacon. ( I love thin, crispy but not crunchy, bacon!)

62. Hold a baby. (Good thing!.)

63. Deliver a eulogy. (I could write one, but I’m not sure I could give one unless maybe it was someone I didn’t know all that well in which case why would I be doing it?)

64. Know that Christopher Columbus was a son of a bitch. (diseases, Dominican Republic, and pay.)

65. Throw a baseball over-hand with some snap. (Not any more.)

66. Throw a football with a tight spiral. (Why would I even want to?)

67. Shoot a 12-foot jump shot reliably.

68. Find his/her way out of the woods if lost. (Eventually.)

69. Tie a knot.

70. Shake hands.

71. Iron a shirt. ( . . . which doesn’t mean I WILL.)

72. Stock an emergency bag for the car. (I used to be really good at that.)

73. Caress a woman’s neck. (Why would I want to do that? I can massage anyone’s neck, but “caress” has a different connotation. I would caress a man’s neck, though.)

74. Know some birds. (Robin. Cardinal. Bluebird. Little yellowish bird that chirps funny. Hummingbird.)

75. Negotiate a better price. (I am too shy.)

Quotation Saturday

2008-06-07T00:01:00.001-04:00

You all know by now that I love a good quotation. Words have such mighty and majestic power: they can make us laugh; they can make us cry; they can make us cower in fear, or stand tall with pride, or melt with love. Name it, and words can make us feel or do it. Wisely chosen words make us respect someone, or not. Words can inspire us, and words can fill us with disgust. Or longing. Or remorse. Or happiness. Or nostalgia. So much strength in words. . .there are no words to fully describe what words can do. Many words, and no words.

And, of course, other people's words are far more powerful than mine. Funnier, too.

"There never was a rule that didn't have to be broken at some time, and the man who doesn't know when to break a rule is a fearful pain in the neck." --William Feather

"The price one pays for pursuing any profession or call, is an intimate knowledge of its ugly side." --James Baldwin

"Not to know is bad; not to wish to know is worse." --West African Proverb

"Children, I grant, should be innocent; but when the epithet is applied to men or women, it is but a civil term for weakness." --Mary Wollstonecraft*

"So live that you wouldn't be ashamed to sell the family parrot to the town gossip." --Will Rogers

". . . he who does not increase his knowledge diminishes it; he who refuses to learn, merits extinction." --Talmud

"A mind all logic is like a knife all blade. It makes the hand bleed that uses it." --Tagore

"I guess the definition of a lunatic is a man surrounded by them." --Ezra Pound

"I hasten to laugh at everything for fear of being obliged to weep at it." --Pierre De Beaumarchair

"You don't look in the mirror to see life; you gotta look out of the window." --Drew Brown

"We do not really know anything at all until a long time after we have learned it." --Joseph Joubert

"Happiness is not the absence of conflict, but the ability to cope with it." --Anonymous

"Do not assume that the other fellow has intelligence to match yours. He may have more." --Terry-Thomas

"He who is firmly seated in authority soon learns to think security, and not progress, the highest lesson of statecraft." --J.R. Lowell

"Do not fear when your enemies criticize you. Beware when they applaud." --Vo Dong Giang

"Earnest people are often people who habitually look on the serious side of things that have no serious side." --Van Wyck Brooks

"It's the most unhappy people who most fear change." --Mignon McLaughlin

"Eccentricity is like having an accent. It's what "other" people have." --Oliver Sacks

"Some people crave baseball. I find this unfathomable; however, I do understand how someone could get excited about playing a bassoon." --Frank Zappa

"Sometimes I think war is God's way of teaching us geography." -- Paul Rodriguez

"A headline is not an act of journalism; it is an act of marketing." --Harold Evans

"Take a rest; a field that has rested gives a beautiful crop." --Ovid

"If a man does not work passionately - even furiously - at being the best in the world at what he does, he fails his talent, his destiny, and his God." --George Lois

"All of us are mad. If it weren't for the fact that every one of us is slightly abnormal, there wouldn't be any point in giving each person a separate name." --Ugo Bette

A good quotation is an education, isn't it. Sometimes, a really good one can make my skin tingle and my brain light up in one of those big areas we never use. Maybe a really good combination of words is the spark we need to heat up those empty lobes and see what's going on in there.

*Bonus points if you know what she wrote!

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

"I'm Only 3 1/2 Years Old"

2008-06-05T00:25:00.004-04:00

The newest Carnival of Education is up, over at The Education Wonks. Click on over there and check it out. If you don't keep up, you forfeit all whining rights. I'm not kidding.

It would also be nice of you went over there and told the Wonks you think he did a wonderful job with the Carnival. He always does - he's the Carnival of Education Guru - but the evil internet gremlins attacked his carefully-thought-out first draft and devoured it, and he had to reinvent it quickly so it would be up in time. AND, he did.

Speaking of gremlins, nothing can beat those old Warner Brothers' Merrie Melodies cartoons from the 1940's for propaganda and wit.

I suppose that political correctness prevents such cartoons from being made and distributed widely, nowadays. Pity. We're so busy trying not to offend that small handful of easily-offended-types that we've forgotten how to laugh at life. And life is FUNNY, people!

Enjoy.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

"Bring Me. . . a SHRUBBERY!"

2008-06-04T11:36:00.004-04:00

We've lived in this house for twenty years now, so we figured it was time to do a little landscaping. The original shrubberies were nearly the size of the house and dead on the inside, and it was time for them to go. Well past time, in fact. At first we thought we could pull them out by the roots, so we tied a heavy chain around them and hooked the other end to the 4-wheel-drive truck and gave them a tug. Nothing, unless you call the chain sliding up the tree and laughing at us something. So we got out the little electric chain saw and cut them babies off right flat to the ground, if by "flat to the ground" you really mean "a good foot of trunk still there."

Then it started to rain again - we've had severe thunderstorms here almost every day this summer so far - and we had to stop. We're not finished, and everything looks lopsided, but ~~some time before I die~~ eventually, we'll get the rest of the gigantic shrubs out of there.

So, we went to WalMart and walked up and down the Garden Center aisles, looking at this and that and wondering what most of it was for, and saying intelligent things like "Look! Pretty!" and making fun of the lawn ornaments even while secretly thinking some of the little limestone kittens were cute.

I actually heard myself saying, "Look, Buddha is sitting with Mary the Mother of God, St. Francis of Assisi, and a segmented dragon. If only the world could get along like that."

Vaguely remembering that some of the homes we'd driven past for inspiration had some kind of black stuff lining the mulchy areas, we grabbed a huge roll of plastic edging and got in line at the checkout. It being WalMart, there was, naturally, only one cashier working and we were possibly 23rd in line to check out. Trying to check out in the local WalMart is kind of like trying to blast off in a NASA rocket. They SAY it will be five minutes, but you KNOW it's really going to be six hours, or even next week. "10, 9, 8, 7. . . OOPS, delay. . . . 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5. . . OOPS, sorry. . .10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3. . . price check. . . etc."

One of my former students saw us in line and whispered, "You don't want to buy that stuff."

"We don't?"

"No, you really don't. That stuff is horrible."

Then he gave me his business card and whatta you know, he was a professional landscaper.

He came out to the house and looked around and to his eternal credit didn't start laughing until he was back in his van and exiting the driveway. I mean, I have NO artistic sense at all. I know it when I see it, but I can't create it myself. Unless you agree with me that an old shower curtain liner does a pretty good job of keeping the weeds away from grapevines. . . .

It's too late to make a long story short so I'll just say this: we hired a professional landscaper to do the basic remove-the-top-layer, dig the little trenches, lay the landscaping cloth that costs more per yard than wedding-dress-satin, and spread the mulch. This guy was a really nice 7th grader and he seems to have grown into a really nice man, and although our conversation about how he now has kids who are several years older than he was when I had him in class might have upset me a little bit (darn mirror!) I think we've found another former student that we can trust with real-world stuff.

We like to hire former students whenever we can. Not just ANY former student, mind you, but you know what? Most of those former students who were hardworking and trustworthy as kids grow into adults who are hardworking and trustworthy.

It's not his fault that when I look at him, I see a quiet, smiling 12-year-old, sitting in the second row from the windows, third seat from the back, with two Matchbox cars on his desk which he won't touch until he finishes his quiz.

It's that memory of his ability to put off his fun until he finished his work that made me hire him.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

More Things That Make Me Furious

2008-06-03T17:39:00.003-04:00

In the mood for a rant? I am.

People who toss their cigarette butts out the window of their car are creeps.

People who drop their cigarette butts on the parking lot are jerks.

People who drop their cigarette butts into flower pots are scum.

People who drop their cigarette butts in someone else's yard are dirty, dirty people.

To sum up: People who drop their cigarette butts anywhere that is not in their own home or car are inconsiderate boors.

One more thing: Please seal up your house or car thoroughly so your stench does not seep out and further nastify the planet. Also, please bathe - and use a scrubbing brush - before you leave your personal environmental hell-hole. EVERY time. Nothing will ever make you smell presentable, but every little bit helps.

Also? If you are a smoker and you try to hide the rankness by using a quart of perfume, give it up. You're not fooling anybody, and you still stink. Breath mints don't hide it, either.

You can throw glitter all over a pile of manure, but it will still be manure and it will still stink.

Also, shame on you. If you've ever read a thousand essays by eleven-year-olds about how their parents love their nicotine habit far more than they love their children, maybe you'd be ashamed of yourself enough to at least taper off a bit. Or not. Some smokers don't love their children as much as they love their cigarettes, and I've seen tons of these "people" at conferences. (Can you say "Pee YOU?") We had to spray down the hallways and the room after these conferences, but at least the parents showed up. Their kids had no socks or warm coats or pencils or gym shoes and were mostly on the school dole as far as books, lunch, breakfast, and before-and-after-school care, but Mom had one open pack and at least two spares in her open purse, there beside the food stamps.

And now for the quiz: How many pairs of little socks can be purchased for the price of a pack of cigarettes?

Check it out; this was written in February of 1993:

"I love my mom but she don't love me much. how do I know, it's because if she has to chose between me and her cigs, i don't have a chance. My dad he sent me cash for my band uniform and mom she found it and drove to Walmart in the middle of the night and spent every dime for cigarets. Know what she said when I found it gone and cried? Sorry, kid, mommy's gotta have em. Suck it up. then my dad he asked me about band and i told him and he yelled and mom hit me for ratting her out. I want to live with him, mom's house stinks and is always cloudy with smoke and it makes everytghin in there smell bad incluing me and i hate it and i hate her for not loving me. she just loves her addictoin nothing else. I know she just wants me so she can buy cigs with the money dad sends her for me. I love her too, beside hating her but i know she will alwyas love her smokes more. she cougfs all the time and her voice is scrachy and she would steal for herself i know because she steals from me for herself. Sometimes dad gives me money direct and i hide it and mom serches for it and finds it and screams at me for making her serch and she buys more cigs with it. This makes me real sad all the time. Also i know i smell bad, it's not my fault, and i wash off at school every day but i know it still stinks. i hate her for making my whole world stink but i love her and i wish she loved me but know she don't. If she loved me, she'd walk through fire for me but she'd rather smoke it than be inconvenience and that's how I know she don't really love me at all. just herself."

The kid's right, too.

We called CPS about this but were told they could do nothing because the mother had done nothing actually wrong. Oh really.

One more judgmental heartless rant before I have to go mock some babies who cried because they were hungry and for, to quote my idol Dr. Cox, ". . .packing a load so big I'm seriously considering hiring a stable boy."

Adults who indulge themselves in any way while denying a child a basic need are complete and total wastes of earth space.

Don't anyone DARE whine about pity or indulgence for a drug addict on my blog, either. I really don't care. Life is full of choices, and if someone chooses himself/herself over a child, that someone really doesn't deserve any pity.

"But I DO love my kids! I can't help myself, it's an addiction, an ADDICTION! It's not my fault, I'm addicted! It's the cigarette company's fault, not mine! Don't blame me! I'm sorry! I just can't HELP IT!"

Cry me a river.

As the kid's lovely mom put it, "Suck it up." You made your bed; now lie in it. And for God's sake, let someone else have your child. Since you don't love him enough to take care of him, let someone else do it.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

No Trumps and No Aces

2008-06-01T23:59:00.003-04:00

I was sitting here trying to think of something interesting to blog about; that's right, just sitting here not bothering anybody or plotting to take over the world: just sitting here looking at my screen and my sleeping cat's legs dangling down over the keyboard, and suddenly I started thinking about college.

Not the one where I teach - the one I went to, myself. You know, the only big university in the world? Indiana University, Bloomington? Yes, the Big Red one. The Bobby Knight one.

And as I was sitting here remembering my college days, I realized, with more than just a little bit of horror, that two of my roommates and three of my college boyfriends are. . . . dead now.

Joyce died several years ago of the flu. Four children under the age of eight, and she got the flu, and died before anybody could even comprehend what was happening. Christie, who was one of the kindest people I've ever met, died last year of Lou Gehrig's Disease. I googled her name a few months ago and apparently she donated all of her personal papers to a university in Iowa. Among her papers was a category entitled "Personal Letters." I wonder if any of MY letters now reside in the archives of a college in Iowa. Bruce, who was a health nut and practically lived outdoors, died of cancer. Meid dropped dead of an aneurysm while with a patient. Mike died of AIDS - apparently, everybody "knew" except me. Not that it would have mattered in the least.

In my mind, ~~they're~~ we're all alive and young and hot and laughing and eagerly awaiting whatever life will bring. Sometimes, I guess, life hands us a bad hand, with no trumps and no aces. It's luck. I really wish we could ask life for a re-deal.

When I think of college, I also remember Viking Dinners in the dorm. That's a random dinner wherein nobody is allowed to use silverware. Inevitably, there was soup, and if we were lucky, there was Zebra Pudding. (I wish I knew how to make that; it was awesome. )

Mike's face would be covered with fluffy white stuff and some streaks of chocolate. Christie would have food all over her thick waist-length hair. Joyce would sniff and refuse to participate. Bruce would laugh sarcastically and pretend not to enjoy himself when we all knew he was having more fun than anybody. Meid ate so much I got out of the habit of watching him at dinner, so I don't really remember how he approached Viking Dinners. As for me, I don't remember how I did Viking Dinner, either. I've always been a watcher, not a do-er, far too insecure to go out on a limb in those days, but I hope I walked out of the dining room with a little chocolate in my hair on those nights.

I guess the older we get, the more likely we are to have deceased friends. All of these people were far too young to die; we're supposed to be in our late nineties when that happens! I guess all we can do is appreciate each other while we still have each other, and not let petty things come between us. I've always been glad I wrote to Joyce and forgave her for her part in that , um, let's call it a disagreement about where college boyfriends are supposed to sleep when one has a roommate, "thing," and that she wrote back and took all of the blame.

It was no fun sleeping in the hallway all those nights when I was paying half of the rent for the room. Joyce and I parted company at the end of that year NOT on the best of terms.

Two weeks after I got her letter of apology, she was dead.

So, there we go, and there we go. College gave me far more memories than just these, of course, but tonight, these are what my mind is focusing on.

Let's all be nice to one another, shall we? Far nicer than we even NEED to be.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

The Emperor is Naked

2008-05-30T23:35:00.008-04:00

Little wonder that our students are so confused about what they're "supposed" to look like. Teen magazines that used to give us ADVICE about our appearance are now telling kids that unless they look like (insert talentless celebrity here), they're hideous. AND, many kids have no home backup to instill some self-respect and common sense, so they believe this stuff.

Trends come and trends go. Rubenesque women used to be the epitome of feminine beauty. Adult women built like eleven-year-olds (Twiggy) were popular. Breasts are flattened by a board placed strategically under the underwear and tied into place. Breasts are bigger. Breasts are pointy. Breasts are smaller. Hems are high. Hems are low. A waistline is hidden. A waistline is enhanced by a corset so tight a woman can't even put it on by herself; she needs a winch fastened to the bedpost, later spelled wench and transformed into a person. How empowering it must have been, for women to finally get clothing they could put on all by themselves!

Now, supermodels are built like concentration camp prisoners, and the walk down the runway looks a lot like the walk to the Belsen showerhouse. * These women look like a sneeze would blast them backwards like a bullet from a gun.

(You know, Victorian men must not have seen very many naked women; otherwise, why and how could a man have possibly believed women were supposed to look like a wasp?)

There were fancy schools in Victorian England that had a rule that each young woman must have a 17-inch waist, just like Scarlett O'Hara.

It wasn't just in England, either. Laura Ingalls Wilder (one of my many literary idols) writes that her mother reminisced to her daughters about how, when she was married, her husband could span her waist with his hands. This, while advising her daughters to wear their corsets even while sleeping or ". . . what your figure will be, goodness knows."

Mothers nowadays dress their small daughters in clothes that a high-class prostitute wouldn't be caught dead in. I am, more and more, thinking that school uniforms might not be such a bad idea.

At the turn of the century, schoolgirls wore pinafores over their dresses to help keep the dress clean, but also to hide the curves and allow the girls to be children a little longer. Remember Anne Shirley, Diana Barry, Jane Andrews, and Ruby Gillis? (Oh, I hope you do!) Emily Starr? Marigold Lesley? Pat Gardiner? They all wore pinafores to school every day, and after school, too. When the pinafores were removed for parties, etc, these girls looked like young women, but because they were still girls, really, the pinafores were worn all other times. Anne Frank, at 13 or 14, still referred to herself and to Peter VanDaan, who was 16 or 17, as "children."

Big booty used to be all the rage, and emphasized with bustles. Now, a big butt is a sign of sloppiness and obesity, and whether or not her butt looks big is something most women worry about daily. Fear of a butt that's large enough to actually sit on comfortably sends otherwise sane and intelligent women to the liposuction clinic to get all that sucked out, that they might be "beautiful." Balancing precariously on a protruding tailbone doesn't seem either attractive or comfortable, but that's how supermodels have to sit these days because they traded their cheeks for a check.

Tiny feet were a symbol of rank. High-born Chinese women suffered intense pain all their lives, and had to be carried because they could not walk normally on the new-born-size buds that were what had become of their feet. Women used to lie about their shoe size, because small feet were, and still are to some people, a sign of beauty. Now, a woman who wears size eleven or twelve shoes isn't the exception at all.

Hands were to be kept soft at all costs. Soft, smooth hands indicated servants to do all the work, which indicated money, which indicated good marriage fodder.

There are so many silly interpretations of beauty that I could never go into them all in one post. Besides, I don't want to.

Clean, kind, honest, ethical, intelligent, humorous, witty, and brave. What outside feature could possibly outrank that? I suppose really shallow people would disagree, and I have a hard time overlooking my own, shall we say, "shortcomings" in the beauty arena, but truth be told, beauty fades and these other qualities are merely enhanced.

Oh, and while it may be true that the old standards of feminine beauty were set by men, I honestly believe that now, women set the standards for beauty. I also believe that women are not very nice to each other when it comes to what's "beautiful" this week, and what's "passe."

Remember Marilyn Monroe? Remember how beautiful she was? Size 12. Elizabeth Hurley has been quoted as saying, "I'd kill myself if I was that fat. . . she was very big."

I'm not finished yet. I also believe that we women need to start pointing and laughing at 79-pound toothpicks sashaying down the fashion aisle in between bouts of rehab, instead of throwing our money at them and their keepers: the jokers who get rich because somewhere, a woman spends a hundred thousand dollars on a half-yard of fabric, two safety pins, a button, a necklace made of real diamonds that looks like it was strung by an Alzheimer patient on the front porch of a nursing home, assisted by a four-year-old, a hat made of 19 cents worth of purple felt, a feather, and an old rusty key, and shoes consisting of a paper-thin sole, a ten-inch heel, and a single clear plastic strap across the top, in which one cannot walk. As long as there are women who will buy this hideous, overpriced scheisse and wear it, there will be women who pretend to believe that it's beautiful.

What we need is someone to stand up and say, "The Emperor is naked." Because, my friends, he is.

*I am NOT being disrespectful here. I am being descriptive. It's a visual thing.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Prince Caspian: Two Things, and Eddie Izzard

2008-05-28T22:11:00.008-04:00

We just got home from seeing "The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian," and I have this to say about it:

1. It was good, but not as good as the book. No movie ever is. But it was good. The scenery was breathtaking.

2. Prince Caspian is smokin' hot. *

3. Eddie Izzard is Reepicheep, the Chief Mouse. EDDIE
IZZARD!!!!! (Language alert! You've been warned!) (Naughty words are in the video, not the film.)

Is that three? I was never good at math. It's the only thing I ever had in common with Barbie.**

Also: Eddie Izzard is the funniest man in the universe. (Language alert again.) (You might just assume there is always a language alert with Eddie Izzard.) (Letting small children listen would constitute abuse; listening yourself would constitute culture.)

* *Not quite true. I also wore those horrible cats-eye glasses in high school.
**You don't need money to window-shop.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

R.I.P. - Billy, Dolly, Jeffiy, and P.J.'s Mommy

2008-05-26T23:15:00.005-04:00

Thelma Keane has passed away at the age of 82.

I know that people poke fun at the antics of Billy, Dolly, Jeffy, and P.J., but when my children were very, very young, they loved these sweet little vignettes. Maybe they were a little saccharine, but the world is too often a difficult and vicious place, and some sweetness was much appreciated.

My tiny toddler son, especially, loved the Family Circus. He and I would lie on my bed at naptime, and I would turn page after page in our stack of Family Circus paperbacks, and he would get so tickled, especially when it came to the three little boys' antics, his little legs would kick, kick, kick in sheer delight. After about half a book, he would turn over, sigh, and go to sleep.

Thank you, Thel and Bil, for sharing your memories of your children's childhood so that they have become part of my children's childhood memories, and mine.

I wonder how many people know that Thel and Bil's son Glen (Jeffy) has worked for Disney for many years, and helped draw such animated masterpieces as Finding Nemo, Aladdin, Pocahontas, Beauty and the Beast, and many others.

Thank you, Thel, for being such a great Mommy to the masses. In pace requiscat.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Every YouTube Celebrity in a Nutshell

2008-05-25T21:39:00.003-04:00

I found this over on the Steve Spangler Science website. I confess to hanging out on YouTube sometimes; I'm no fanatic, but I recognize every one of the people in this new Weezer video.

Um, maybe I am a fanatic. Oh, whatever, most of you will recognize the YouTube Celebrities making cameos in this new video.

I enjoy Weezer. They get a lot of their themes and titles from classical opera. I mean, PINKERTON? I have a 'thing' for concept albums.

I've liked Weezer ever since Buddy Holly. Not one of the classical ones, but it's become a classic.

This new one is called Pork and Beans. Not exactly classical this time, either, unless you're a phartiste. Seriously.

I love this.

It was on the Spangler website because Steve Spangler is the Mentos Geyser guru of the universe. They used some other guys who also do this experiment all over the place, but that's okay. Everybody knows who originally did it.

Why, yes, I'm posting about Steve Spangler again. That's how much I love his website.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Mamacita (The Real One) Rants About Wiggly Kids and Recess and Stuff

2008-05-24T15:38:00.003-04:00

Most of this was first posted on June 30, 2007, but my opinion hasn't changed since then, and I've added a few more opinionated Mamacita-isms. Are you surprised? I didn't think you would be.

"No two people are alike, and both of them are damn glad of it."

That's a quotation; that's not me saying "damn," although I ~~frequently~~ occasionally do. I am, to my shame, greatly afflicted with "potty mouth," and although I managed to control it somewhat while my children were tiny, thanks to what I think of as my "Shit Epiphany," it's back, in full force. Honestly? I need help.

But I digress. No two people are alike, but both of them are expected to progress at the same rate by our public schools.

Our children are expected to learn to read and write by a certain age lest they be labeled "special education" and given an IEP and pulled from the classroom to be tutored in the Reading Room. Most of them are little boys.

Old hippies like me sometimes have a hard time admitting that there really are gender differences that no amount of "environment" is going to change. One of those differences is this: a lot of little boys need a few more years than a lot of little girls need, to mature enough so that their bodies and brains can sit still, together, long enough to learn how to read and write. Whether we like it or not, it is a fact that while a lot of little girls are reading "Gone with the Wind," the little boys sitting next to them are still struggling to recognize letter combinations. It is also a fact that some of these little boys who still can't do it in the third grade, or the fourth, somehow have their own "epiphany" in the middle grades; something in their brain becomes aware of symbols and their meanings and how to translate them to Harry Potter. It wasn't that these little boys didn't TRY down in the lower grades; it was that their bodies and brains weren't THERE yet.

I saw this miracle happen over and over again. With my own eyes I saw it. Sometimes, when I tried to tell other teachers, especially elementary teachers, about this awakening, they did not believe me. "I had that boy in third grade and I'm telling you, Jane, that he just doesn't have what it takes to be a reader, a good student. He just can't do it."

And I'm telling you, Madeline, that I don't give a rat's ass* what the child did in your class. I am trying to tell you that in my class, the boy can read. One week he couldn't, and the next week, he could. And he's ecstatic.

Heidi learned to read overnight. It does happen. At age eight, Heidi learned to read overnight. And then she went home and taught her friend Peter how to read, and he was in his teens. The "learning how to read when convinced one would never be able to learn because it was just too hard" theme is a big one in this book.

My point? Do I have to have one? I guess I could drag one in by the hind legs if you must have a point. How about this one:

Hold off on the IEP's and the labeling until the kid is in middle school. Tutor, yes. Give special help, yes. Hang a label on his forehead and put it in his permanent record? Not so fast there, Teach. Don't do it Not yet. Not just for reading. Save the labeling for the children who genuinely need the help; don't fill up the room with little boys who just need a few more years to mature.

Same-sex classrooms in the lower grades? Why not? It might work. It would certainly be better for the little girls who, most of them, just naturally catch on to the reading faster; they could move on! It would be better for the little boys, too; they wouldn't feel pressured and might get comfortable enough to relax and blossom, too.

Many of our most highly esteemed scientists, inventors, etc, were late bloomers. Edison wasn't even allowed to continue at his school; he was so slow, he held the others back!

Let's give our little boys a break, what say, people?

And by the way, taking away a child's recess because he couldn't finish his vocabulary words quickly is cruel and unusual punishment. I suppose the boy would then be punished because he was extra wiggly since his 'outlet' was taken from him? Energetic little children NEED to be let loose on the playground several times a day!!! Taking away recesses for punishment or to make more room for standardized test review is the action of a ~~halfwit who knows nothing about either education OR children and probably hasn't been in a classroom since 1972~~ politician, superintendent, or some other administrator who falls into the 'nimrod' category of typical la la land unawareness of real people and how we live. Probably people who do that don't know how to access their email, either, or use a computer. But then, that's what secretaries are for.

I put up with this for 26 years. No wonder I had a potty mouth.

Back in the olden days, there were plenty of outlets for restless boys to work off their excess energy. We sent our boys out to chop wood, plow, herd cows, walk miles to a neighbor or a store, etc. Our boys fell into bed exhausted from genuine labor every night. Now, few boys have any safe or easily obtainable or legitimate outlets, other than sports, for their physical energy and it gets kind of balled up (sorry) in them and then they explode, sometimes for no conceivable reason other than that the kid simply needs an outlet. I'm a huge proponent of self control, but self control can only do so much. Any teacher can tell you that a middle-of-the-day segment devoted to intense physical activity is of vital importance for our students. Girls need it, too, but I'm focusing on the boys in this post. Afternoon classes full of boys who have had absolutely no physical outlet are a nightmare.

Organized games are not enough. Not every kid will get to play. Let the kids run wild for a half hour or so and let the teachers stand there and try to keep them from getting hurt. Hub's elementary school had a hill to slide down and a piney grove to play in. I taught in that same school for years and by then, the piney grove, the hill, and most of the coolest playground equipment had been removed because a kid fell down. Go figure. Our kids don't even know HOW to fall down these days. When they are on ice or trip and really DO fall down, they get hurt because they've had no falling-down experience. Kids fall down. Live with it. Sheesh.

And by the way, this guv'ment standard of requiring our tiny first and second graders to sit still for NINETY MINUTES and read without interruption is ignorance in action on the part of whoever thought that one up. Tell me, Mr. Standards: Can YOU sit absolutely still for ninety minutes and read without interruption? I thought not.

*Dammit **, there I go again.

** Crap.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Say What?

2008-05-22T15:50:00.004-04:00

I'm having more than a little bit of trouble understanding how and why Ted Kennedy is suddenly a kindly, revered, heroic, honorable, heaven-blessed, benevolent white-haired gentleman.

I wish him well and I sincerely hope he recovers, as I wish no one ill and hope everyone recovers from whatever has gone wrong, but to single him out as just a little bit below the angels is beyond my comprehension.

Isn't this the same horny drunk who persuaded a young woman - who was not his wife - to get in the back seat of his car, drove off a bridge, abandoned her in the water, saved his own ass, and went home? And never once apologized for it? And called it an "accident" and still does?

Drunks behind the wheel are no different than drunks with guns in malls. That's no accident, either.

Perhaps I am mistaken, and there is another Ted Kennedy.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

The Summertime Boredom Blues, in E Flat Minor

2008-05-22T01:46:00.002-04:00

Summertime sure has changed since ~~dinosaurs ruled the earth~~ I was a kid.

In the summer, I would leave the house right after breakfast and I wouldn't return until Mom called us to lunch. (Each neighborhood mom had a distinctive lunchtime call. Nobody ever got confused until the people with the parrot moved in across the street. Stupid parrot quickly learned to mimic every mom on the block, and we kids were constantly running into the house asking "What do you want?" and the answer would be "Why are you here? I didn't call you!") No normal kid stayed in the house in the summertime. We stayed outside as long as we could see.

All the moms knew that if any of us chose to behave poorly, anywhere in the neighborhood, the MomPolice would instantly put a stop to it and notify the wrong-doer's mother. Every mom was everybody's mom. The village kept us civilized.

After lunch, at which every kid on the block was served the same thing - "take it or leave it" - we were all off again, riding our bikes all over the neighborhood, climbing trees, playing kickball in Becky's back yard - the biggest back yard on the block. We played there even when Becky wasn't home; all back yards were open source back then.

We came back home again only when it started to get dark; we ate a late supper, took a much-needed bath, watched The Beverly Hillbillies, and went to bed. All the summer tomorrows promised to be just as exciting as the first day! The only difference was the half-hour sitcom. Or an hour, on Bonanza night.

Some summer days we spent every waking hour at the public pool, coming home for lunch only because the pool closed for an hour. On those days, we were ravenous at lunchtime. We were hungry before lunchtime, too, but back then, people ate at designated times, not constantly.

Were we fat? Nope, although there was always one fat kid, usually nicknamed Porky or Chubs or Heifer or some such politically scandalous thing nowadays. Did the kid care? Nope; he/she knew he/she was fat. Were we afraid of strangers? Nope. We were warned about taking rides or candy from strangers, but a stranger would have to be insane to try and kidnap one of us; the screaming and tattling would have begun before his foot hit the accelerator. Remember when Colin grabbed the kid in Kindergarten Cop? Remember what happened to the child molester in the novel "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn?" Yeah, I'm all for it. Get him, ladies! Yell, kids! Painful death is far too good for people who are mean to children.

Nowadays, kids are rarely allowed to leave the confines of the house, let alone their own yard. Kids on bikes are watched all the way up the block and all the way back. Go AROUND the block? Heaven forbid. These rules make sense for tiny children, but for 5th graders? Oh please.

Kids in summer, nowadays, watch a lot of television and play a lot of video games and do a lot of computer surfing. The trees are too small to climb even if each one didn't have a little fence around it. Other people's back yards are private property.

Your kid wants to play ball? He's put in a structured program run by adults. Your kid wants to play outside? He'll get DIRTY, and wouldn't you rather watch a DVD, and here, have some cake. Kid wants to go someplace? You drive him. And he watches tv in the minivan instead of looking out the window.

Nowadays, if kids are playing in a barn and one of them yells, "Hey, kids, let's do a SHOW!" the other kids will leave the barn to watch TV. They know of nothing else.

I know there are real dangers out there, dangers that were always there but which seem magnified these days. Our kids need to be taught to protect themselves and each other. But parents, let your kids fly free and occasionally out of sight on their bikes, and let them navigate their own neighborhoods, and let them get filthy and hungry and turn off the damn television set.

Give your kids an empty bottle and tell them to fill it with lightning bugs. Send the kids out in the yard to find four-leaf-clovers. Have them hang clean wet towels on the clothesline. Let them rollerskate and the devil take the bruises. A kid without playtime bruises and cuts and scabs and dirt ingrained in the fingernails is a kid who doesn't know how to play.

I know! Give them some CHORES to do! Oh, the humanity!

Send them to Steve Spangler's website to sign up for the experiment of the week.

Help them do that experiment. Make it a family affair. There's even a link for special summer activities for kids over there right now.

Whatever your kids do this summer, try to have them do it outdoors whenever possible. Item: rain will not harm your children. If you have white carpeting and children, you deserve to take the inevitable fall.

Just a few thoughts from an empty nest mommy who misses her bicycling days almost as much as she misses her kids. I did not have white carpeting, but muddy footprints show up on green pretty darn clearly. Who cares?

Cross-posted, in part, on MommyBloggers. The REAL MommyBloggers.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

You Can't Make This Stuff Up

2008-05-21T01:00:00.003-04:00

I found this transcript in my files tonight. It's one of my favorite encounters.

Kid, upon watching video of himself sneaking into the teacher's lounge, kicking the machine, and stealing candy about thirty minutes prior: That ain't me!

Principal: The person in the video looks exactly like you and is wearing the same clothes you're wearing right now.

Kid: He must have stole them from my locker!

Principal: But you're wearing them now.

Kid: He must have put them back, and I found them again, and put them on.

Teacher *: What were you wearing before you found your clothes again and put them on?

Kid: I forget.

Kid's mother: That's not him!

Kid's mother's this week's boyfriend: It is too, the stupid lying little shit.

Kid's mother: He wouldn't do that! He's not that kind!

Boyfriend: Looks to me like he is.

Kid: It ain't me! I swear it ain't!

Kid's mother: He swears it ain't him. That tells me it positively ain't him. My boy don't lie.

Principal: Let's play the video again, in slow motion.

Kid: No! I think that's a kid disguised as me, with my shirt, and my face, and my hat.

Kid's mother: I think so, too. That ain't my son. That's some dirty little thief with my son's shirt and hat on. You should find that kid and torment him! He's got my son's shirt and hat!

Principal: And his fingerprints and face.

Boyfriend: Haw haw, this is hilarious.

Kid's mother: Whose side are you on, you short-dicked parasite?

Boyfriend: After last year, darlin', I'm on the side of the law.

Principal: Does anybody have anything else to say before we turn the video over to the police?

Kid: Can I eat the candy now?

Kid's mother: Shut up, you little idiot!

This kid was in the 8th grade, by the way.

* Guess who?

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Bikini Talk: Itsy, Bitsy, Teeny, Weeny, and Polka-Dotted.

2008-05-20T23:13:00.004-04:00

See these? They're trash bags.

Remember me? I'm the crazy lady who gets all excited about trash bags.

But if you had to drive around all week with your trash in the back of your pickup truck, you'd want cute trash bags, too. I live out in the country. We have no trash pickup. We drive to the dump every Saturday, and eat at Snow's Drive-in afterwards. It's an enviable life.

And if you hated roaches and ants and bees and wasps and gnats and creepy crawly icky things that like to get in your house and crawl out onto the carpet when guests are looking and possums who eat your cats' food, you'd get excited about these trash bags, too.

They're Repell-em bags, of course, and they honestly, truly work.

And now, for pictures and information about the bikinis. . . oops, LOOK at the time. Sorry, come back later.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

We Will All Go Together When We Go

2008-05-19T17:05:00.003-04:00

I am quickly swept off my feet by a man who can turn a phrase well. Quirky rhymes of rhythmic perfection? I'm his. Tom Lehrer, be mine?

Of course, he's eighty years old now so he probably wouldn't be interested, but Tom? Are you there, Tom? You were a frickin' genius THEN and you're a frickin' genius NOW and I LOVE YOU.

But now I should calm down lest I say something inappropriate in the primal heat of my love for Tom Lehrer.

Masochism Tango, anyone? Elements? Werner Von Braun? Vatican Rag? Pollution? National Brotherhood Week? So Long, Mom? Who's Next? I Got It From Agnes?

What'll it be?

What's that you say? Why of COURSE! Poisoning Pigeons in the Park, it is.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

For The World In General and For The Person In That Middle Seat, Especially

2008-05-19T12:29:00.006-04:00

Oh my gosh, I LOVE flying! I even like the bumps; they remind me of carnival rides, which I also love.

But I wouldn't be ME without a litany of complaints, now would I?

Don't you think it would be nice if everybody was required to shower thoroughly before being allowed on a crowded airplane? I do. I really do.

Some parenting classes before being permitted to reproduce oneself and take said offspring on a plane (or any public place whatsoever) would also be much appreciated by the universe at large. Children who are required to behave properly wherever they go will behave properly on a plane if they know you mean business. Put the kid in his seat, buckle him in, and say, "Now behave yourself, look out the window, sit still, and enjoy the ride. Any talking must be done in your indoor voice." Hopefully, he has a full understanding of what WILL happen to him should he choose to disobey you. Give the kid some gum, too; his ears are popping. And did you really think your Mini-Cooper-sized stroller would fit in the overhead compartment? Oh, and why wouldn't they give that behemoth stroller a thorough going-over at security? Your superior, entitled attitude might have had something to do with it, and besides, a swanky stroller would be an ideal place to hide stuff. Honestly, it was like putting up with Meg and Hamilton Swan, except their dog would have been more pleasant to sit near on a plane.

Did you happen to notice the lovely little boy who spent the three hours and twenty minutes talking quietly to his mother, coloring, dozing, being grateful and appreciative for the peanuts and juice, smiling at people, dozing some more, and looking out the window with pure joy? You probably didn't, but everyone else on the plane did. That child and his parents made us all smile, and your child and you made us cringe.

Helpful hint for all who plan to fly any time soon or in the future: Pee before you get on the plane. This having to unbuckle and run to the can while the plane is taking off is absolutely ridiculous. Your whining to the attendant about not being allowed, is even more so.

I love flying; I haven't done much of it but hope to change that stat soon. If you are going to sit by me, please take a bath before you come to the airport. And if you're too fat to fit in the one seat you paid for, splurge for a first-class seat next time. I've had my share and more of having to share my seat with someone else's ass. So not fair. Oh, and turn your music down. I can't hear mine.

Tra la la, don't you wish I were YOUR seatmate? I'm so easy to get along with as long as everybody behaves.

I'm not so far gone that I'll yell at your kids to get out of my yard - I love it when your kids play in my yard, in fact - but if your kids don't behave themselves in my yard, you'll know about it.

I wanted to know; I just assume all parents want to know. I also assume all parents will do something about it, on the ground and in the air.

Children who refuse to behave are brats; adults who refuse to behave are. . . why, my goodness, they're brats, too!

And NOBODY likes a brat.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Click, Click, Click, HOME

2008-05-15T13:58:00.003-04:00

I'll be home again on Saturday night - TS, may we stay with you that night? - so be thinking of me, please, as I catapault through the air from West to Middle on that day.

So far from home, and yet, on the internet, we are all home. Our computers are Dorothy's red shoes; a few clicks and we are home.

And Dorothy was right: There's no place like home. It's just that you don't have to BE home to be at home.

Ah, internet, my big comfy couch.

Why NO, I've never been normal, but thanks for asking.

In A Previous Life

2008-05-12T21:08:00.004-04:00

In a previous life, I think I must have been Alice from The Brady Bunch. I love to cook for lots of people!

I also dress funny, have "decided" opinions, and, until last week, I had weird, dowdy hair.

Honestly, though? I am having the best time in my SIL's beautiful kitchen!

I'm tellin' you: Upstairs, Downstairs? No contest. I was born for the scullery. As long as I can get out for the opera and a lot of live theatre (preferably musical) I could do this all the time.

I'd have access to the Mahsta's big library, right?

We Live in a Big Geography Book

2008-05-11T03:01:00.003-04:00

It's incredible to me that I could be a thousand miles from home, and yet the internet is exactly the same as it always is. It's Sci Fi, is what it is.

What is NOT the same is the geography. I'm in the mountains for a week, and I am completely minimized by the size of them. Minimized, and maximized. Flying here, I watched the topography change, and change, and change again. Not little minor changes, either: HUGE changes. The plane covered five or six chapters in a geography book and it was awesome.

Yesterday we experienced one of the fiercest hailstorms I'd ever seen, but there was no talk of tornadoes and no siren. When the clouds started moving in, low against the mountain, there was no mention of rain; the kids were sent outside to sniff for fire. There are no possums here, either. What equivalent do they have? I don't know yet. I'm sure they have something, though.

I like it out here. I could live here happily.

My brother and sister-in-law are lovely, friendly, interesting people,and my two nephews are GREAT.

The new haircut and style my Tumorless Sister set me up with is great, too.

The immensity of my frumpiness must have been too much for her to stand. Thank you, T.S. You're wonderful and I love you.

VERY odd flight, ours. Three segments to get here, and the longest segment flown in a tiny commuter plane! Headwinds, too; fortunately, I am not affected by a bumpy ride but several passengers were.

A childhood full of hanging upside-down and spinning at the 4-H Fair prepared me for just such a flight.

Many more violent flights like that, and I would want to buy stock in whatever company that manufactures those tiny vomit bags.

I Am I: Mamacita; My Destiny Calls And I Go

2008-05-08T07:59:00.004-04:00

This is my favorite Picasso*, and it hangs in the foyer of my home. I've loved it for many years; a copy hung in the men's side of my college dorm, and it used to fascinate me. No, wait, I mean. . .oh heck. (Um, somebody told me it was there.) (It was the MEN'S dorm! Why would I ~~sneak~~ want to go in there?) (I mean, you had to know how to pick the lock of the side door!)

Ahem. Well, moving right along. . . . I love Don Quixote de la Mancha. I love his unfailing insistence that life IS beautiful, even when it is at its most un-beautiful. I love the way he tilted at windmills. I love the language, the grammar, the turn-of-phrase. I love the use of the word "tilted." I love "The Impossible Dream," although when Jim Nabors sings it, I can't look.

I love how he, like Pippa, changes the lives of almost everyone who encounters him merely by his ontological presence. He passes through, and everyone he touches is better. He doesn't change people on purpose; he merely is what he is, and suddenly - or gradually - others become what they should be instead of what they actually were.

He speaks; he acts; those who listen are improved; the world is better for it.

I think this is what good teachers do.

*It's not the ORIGINAL, for heaven's sake! It's just a framed poster, but I love it.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Speaking of Voting. . . .

2008-05-06T21:25:00.005-04:00

It would make me very happy if some of you would go to that "Ed in '08" icon in the sidebar, click on it, and vote for me.

It would make me even happier if ALL of you would do that.

Please?

If it would help, I can beg.

I can't go to the conference, because even though it's an education conference, it's scheduled for the middle of the week. It looks as though it will be a really good conference, however. I wonder how many teachers will take those days off so near the end of the year? I'd go in a minute if it was later in the summer, or on a weekend.

Meanwhile, please vote for me. I'd really appreciate it. Thank you.

Please observe: I have not intruded into your home, and my grammar ain't so not badly.

Where Does She GET These People?

2008-05-05T12:07:00.003-04:00

Just so you know, the person I believe would be the best president for our country doesn't have a chance. I'd love to vote for him, but it would only be taking a vote away from the only thing standing between us and a world leader who cackles and has short-term memory loss. (No, it's not McCain; are you CRAZY?)

For the record, of the two major political candidates running for president, only one of them is harassing me at home. The other candidate has graciously left me alone to make my decision based on his speeches, his opinions about things that are important to me, and his lack of personal involvement in scandals having to do with sex, money, enabling deviant behavior, lies, and bilking the public. He also found the time to come right here to my community, himself, to talk.

I especially appreciate the fact that he has never intruded.

We are being bombarded with phone calls from various Hilary Clinton headquarters, and except for the latest call - less than a minute ago - all of the calls have been either truly dreadful taped tirades against Obama, or dramatic, pleading, undignified requests for my vote that can only be called "begging."

I would suggest to Hilary that she hire phone soliciters who sound less like, um, other kinds of soliciters. Where did she get some of these people? Minsky's? A few people who know how to put together a complete sentence would be nice to throw into the mix, as well. Oh, and I do NOT appreciate being called "dear" by a politician's lap dummy, thankyouverymuch.

As for her lackeys who persisted in arguing with me after I said, "No, thank you," I can only say. . . well, no, I can't say it. I go a bit too far sometimes on my blog, but I'll have to plead the "Auntie Em" for this one. Bonus points if you know what that is.

We are also getting a lot of calls from "Hilary Clinton" that have no message or voices at all; I pick up the receiver and there's nobody there. I can hear activity in the background, but there's nobody on the phone. We don't bother picking up any more for that.

I am not a political blogger, not by anyone's stretch of the imagination, but I am a fairly intelligent citizen, and I treasure my vote and honestly believe somebody is counting it. I believe that Americans who choose not to vote aren't pulling their weight, and that non-voters had better not voice their political opinions after the fact; they forfeited that privilege when they decided not to vote.

I believe that if someone is running for office, and wants my vote, then that someone had better not be calling my home and bothering me when I'm busy, or even when I'm not busy. And if a candidate insists on intruding, then that intruder had better be able to spin a witty, grammatical, brief, and convincing gem of a reason she should have my vote, and her reasons had better not include anything about her opponent. That would pretty much rule out all those oversized post cards about gun control she's been mailing to me, over and over and over, too. Trees? TREES, Hilary! As soon as one candidate starts talking trash about the other candidate, somebody's cause is already lost, as far as I'm concerned. I consider such methods to be nothing more than diversionary tactics, representative of the vicious, mean-spirited nature of someone who has things she definitely wants covered up about herself. No names mentioned.

You're running for office? Tell me what YOU plan to do. Let the other guy tell me what HE plans to do. Be nice to each other. This whole country is going down the pop-culture-obsessive, entitlement, look at meeeee, tubes, and I get enough wahhh wahhh, did not, did so, did not, did tooooooo in the national news now, thanks.

Oh, and when that candidate's people phone me at home, again and again and again, with those dreadful nasal, been-smoking-all-my-life-and-ain't-nobody-gonna-stop-me-now women's voices and the bad, bad, bad grammar and the logic that can best be categorized as "nonexistent," well, "dear," I'll have to tell you that you'll get my vote, sure. When hell freezes over.

Now, will you please tell your minions to leave me alone? I mean JEEPERS!

As for the child who called me just a few minutes ago: I really don't put much credibility in anybody of any age who has Melanie Griffith's voice, either. How about you just lay the hell off me? Hmm? Can you do that for me? Every call I get just reminds me of more reasons why I am not voting for you.

Next time, hire better people. Oh, they were volunteers? Heaven help you, then.

I just got another call from the Hilary Connection. On my CELL PHONE. That cost me two units of time, but it cost you much, much more. I never talk politics with my students, even though they've been begging me to tell them who I'm voting for.

This is the last week of class. If they ask me again, I'm telling them. And if they ask me why, I'm telling them why.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Comic Books USED To Be Awesome; Now, They're Just Overpriced

2008-05-03T20:37:00.003-04:00

We just got back from (drum roll!) the movie theater!

And yes, Iron Man was pretty good.

Of course, I'm a big comic book nerd from WAY back, even though my preference was DC. Hub, on the other hand, is a huge Marvel fan. You should just SEE what's in our garage!

Life is full of regrets. If only I'd been tidier as a small child, Mom wouldn't have swept through my room like a piranha, and I'd still have all those ten-cent Superman comics.

I loved my DC comics so much, I subscribed to them! They arrived bent in two, with a crease so sharp even time couldn't straighten it out, but it also meant I got mine before the stores did, which was, for some reason, cool back then.

I only stopped buying them because: A) We were poor, and comic book prices went up and are still up so high it's a joke, and B) Both DC and Marvel got rid of all the good artists and hired bad ones.

And with the bad artists came a parade of bad writers, who changed the characters' origins and looks and costumes and friends and motivations and nemeses and eras and powers until they might as well have just invented their own character and left the original characters' characters alone.

I loved my comic books so much that even though we were too poor to buy milk, I might have sold my blood every month to keep up with The Legion of Super-Heroes.

After the big changeovers, however, I really couldn't have cared less about them, even while I mourned the death of my beloved heroes. Because, you know, the changes were so drastic, the original characters really were dead to me. And I hated their replacements.

Also, Stan Lee is in Iron Man, if you look closely. Just like Hitchcock always appeared in his films, Lee appears in his.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Excuse Me, Mr. Horse. What Are Your Feelings About That Fall?

2008-05-01T22:49:00.003-04:00

When every single employee in a medical facility is wearing scrubs, and everybody's name tag just has his/her name and nothing else, how are you supposed to tell the janitors from the doctors? How are you supposed to know who's the receptionist and who's the neurologist?

I suppose it makes a house of horror into something bright and folksy, but when you're in the market for a diagnosis and some radiation, it would be nice to know who's the doctor and who's the Senior Girl Scout volunteer-of-the-day.

(Don't anybody worry; I'm fine!)

But I think only the nurses and doctors should be wearing scrubs.

I agree with Mr. Horse. No sir, I didn't like it.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

It Was A SHAG!!! A SHAG!!!

2008-05-01T01:24:00.005-04:00

This is Nancy and me in the Lodge at Camp Towaki. I loved that place. Camp Towaki: Place Where Friends Meet.

It's been a long time since I've let my hair grow long. It was long all through college, and then for some reason I went out and had it all chopped off. (That was NOT a mullet - it was a SHAG. That's right, SHAG. Make of it what you will.) (It's on my Flickr; judge for yourself.)

It's not a mullet!!!!

And then, right before I got married, it was decided that the shag had grown into something too shaggy to be endured, and the day of my wedding shower, my Tumorless Sister went at me with a curling iron and put a pageboy on me.

I tend to keep a hairstyle until long past its expiration date - you can ask my kids. We were looking through some old photo albums the other night and as my children grew taller, my hair just stayed the same. When I tried to explain that my hairstyle had been in the height of fashion ~~the year I got married, and there were some doubts about it even then~~ back when kings always had a pageboy to bring them wine on a silver tray, they just laughed. We turned the page and there they were, a little older, and there I was, a lot older and with the same hairstyle. We turned the page again. There it was again. Their childhoods had one big consistency: Mommy's hair.

A direct quotation from my son: "Mom, I refuse to believe that hairdo was EVER in style."

Thank you, baby boy. Sigh.

Won't somebody tell my laughing children that a combination bowl cut/pageboy used to be cool? That it used to look good? Anybody? Somebody?

Oh, all RIGHT then.

About ten years ago, I cut my hair really short and it's been short ever since. I figured, why pay somebody to cut it when I could manage this one myself? Isn't that what manicure scissors are for?

Apparently, it was noticeable that knowledgeable hands weren't wielding the scissors.

Around last Christmas, I decided that it was time for something different, so I started letting my hair grow. Right now, it's shoulder-length, but it's SOOOOO straight and fine, and whenever I picked up a curling iron I ended up with that same damn pageboy/bowlcut thing, and then I saw that episode of Scrubs with the really cool old lady, Mrs. Tanner, who decided she was ready to die rather than submit to dialysis, and she was really, really old, albeit cool, and she had my same hair style, the hairstyle I invariably ended up with whenever anybody aimed a curling iron at me. And it looked great on her, in spite of the fact that she was really, really old, and a lot of old people don't actually look all that good in long hair, but I didn't want to have Mrs. Tanner's hair, either.

Well, unless you're Emmylou Harris, which nobody is except her, and while Emmylou can get by with long hair even at her age, not many old people can. That one had to go, too. so I started wearing my hair UP.

I liked it up. I've been wearing my hair up for several months now, and I really like it up. I've got all kinds of pretty hair clips and things, and I'm really having fun with it.

Well, until yesterday, when I got a good luck at the back of my hair in the mirror of the college restroom, which is extra bright so the young girls can primp accurately.

The top few layers of my hair are still kind of golden blonde, but underneath? Underneath, which didn't show unless I wore my hair up? There were WHITE STREAKS under there!

Oh HELLZnah. I got in the car and drove home and I haven't been out of the house since. I'm having lunch tomorrow with my wonderful Cousin C, and my beautiful mother, neither of whom have a gray or white hair on their heads, and I hope it's dim in the restaurant.

Because I think I'd rather show a few white streaks than look like Mrs. Tanner. Or some of the old women I've seen in the mall, with waist-length hair and butterfly clips, who all look strangely pitiful to me.

And I think I'll stop by K-Mart on the way home and check out Miss Clairol.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Steve Spangler: AWESOME

2008-04-29T20:31:00.005-04:00

My latest internet obsession is Steve Spangler, the science guy who introduced that awesome Mentos/Diet Coke geyser experiment to the world. I am also seriously addicted to internet contests, and over on Steve Spangler Science, there is a fun contest going on.

Those of you with children - get over there RIGHT NOW and click on every single link. Sign up for the "Experiment of the Week" - it's FREE. Make a comment and enter the contest!

I am so all over the "free." All OVER it, I'm telling you.

When I was a little kid, I used to mix together all kinds of things in the kitchen, just to see what would happen. I was particularly fond of anything that had to do with baking powder and food coloring.

Steve Spangler has hundreds of experiments that ~~you~~ your kids can do in the kitchen or out in the back yard, and none of them cost very much if anything at all. With ingredients in your pantry, you and your kids can make the dry paragraphs in a science textbook come alive.

Kids love to make messes, blow things up, pop things across a room, stick their hands up to the elbows in goopy, swirly glow-in-the-dark goo, and make loud noises. Here's your chance to encourage just such conduct, only with educational objectives as your goal.

Ah, obsessions. Steve Spangler, won't you be mine? Sigh.

Check him out. He's fantastic.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Bad Grammar and a Couple of Naughty Words, All Justified

2008-04-28T19:46:00.004-04:00

Oh, good! Jeff's blogging again! High time, cuz.

Hoosiers, don't forget to take your ID's with you to the polls. Indiana people don't want no corpses or people too stupid to get an ID voting in OUR state. Real people only, please.

Color me cruel - it won't be the first time - but I think ALL states should require a legal ID for anyone who tries to cast a vote. A valid, non-expired, legal ID with a picture on it that looks like you, thass right, you done heard me. If the pollworker is your mother, she should still ask to see your ID. No exceptions; that ain't fair.

I need a legal ID to write a check at Domino's, and voting is a lot more important than buying a pizza.

I do not consider requiring all voters to have identification to be any kind of infringement on my rights. I DO consider it an infringement on my rights if people who are too damn stupid to piss in a boot are allowed to vote with no questions asked.

That's how a lot of these guys get into office, you know. Yup, that's how they getcha.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Butter and Standardized Tests

2008-04-26T15:44:00.004-04:00

I ran into a former middle school student in a store yesterday. I recognized him right away, in spite of the beard, the wife, and the three little kids, but for the first time, I couldn't remember a student's name. This concerns me.

My mind's eye could see him with the years stripped away, and I could remember where he sat and who sat on either side of him. I could remember things he did and said in class, and I could remember his handwriting and where he liked to sit in the cafeteria. I couldn't, however, remember his name.

He said to me, "I bet you don't remember me!" And I replied, "Of COURSE I remember you." Because I did, even if his name was gone from my brain.

He said to me, "I will always remember that one thing we did in your class."

I replied, "And which thing is that?"

"Remember when you read that olden-days book to us and they were always eating and making stuff from scratch, and you taught us how to make stuff? What I remember most was the butter. My kids and I love to make butter, just like you showed us in 8th grade."

The book was Laura Ingalls Wilder's Farmer Boy. It was perfect for a low-ability class of 37 14-to-17 year old students, all boys, who hated reading and honestly couldn't see any connection between something in a book and the outdoors/ hunting/farming/mechanic/taxidermy/4H/cattle-raising lives most of them were already considered experts in.

It was English class, but we cooked, and we whittled (GASP, how politically INCORRECT!) and we made sourdough starter and later we made bread with it, and we made pies and jerky and boiled candy (it's just fudge or taffy) and jam. And about once a week, we made butter to go with our bread. I had a glass churn, but that was too complicated so we poured the cream into a big Tupperware thing and passed it all around the class and the boys shook it while listening to me read. I would read until the butter 'came,' and then the boys sprang into action. They poured off the buttermilk and squeezed the butter until it stopped weeping. They sprinkled just a little salt into the butter and kneaded it in. Then they all washed their hands and whoever's turn it was that day sliced the bread and they all put napkins in their shirt collars and tucked in. We used KNIVES to slice the bread and to spread the butter. Heavens to BETSY.

I know that many of them were enthusiastic about this book because of the food, and they loved the food because all teenage boys love food, and also because these particular teenage boys were seriously hungry.

I loved those Laura Ingalls Wilder units. Other teachers criticized them because watching sourdough rise, and making butter, weren't proper English lessons.

I maintained, and I still maintain, that anything we as teachers or parents do that makes learning come alive is a proper English lesson. Science lesson. History lesson. Math lesson. Life lesson.

I was sad when the principal forbade me to do this kind of thing any more. There really wasn't time, anyway, what with all the ISTEP prep the boys needed to do. That was more important in the long run, right?

I ran into a grown man in a store yesterday who remembered those lessons and did them with his own children.

I'm sure he remembers and does the lessons required for ISTEP, too.

But I know for a fact that he remembers the butter.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Two Things, Both Awesome

2008-04-24T16:03:00.004-04:00

The new Carnival of Education is up, over at the fabulous Education Wonks. Go check it out. If you don't, you won't know what's happening in the world of education, and if you don't keep up, you forfeit all whining rights. It's like voting. If you choose not to participate, shut up.

I don't know how many of you are familiar with Young@Heart, but those of you who are already know how wonderful they are, and those of you who are seeing them here for the first time will know in a few minutes.

They have affected me. Their effect is, that they have affected me. Is it because they're so good, or because they're so old and it's almost a novelty act, or is it because I'm almost there myself? I don't know. I only know that I'd sell a kidney to be this cool when I'm that old, and that I have been affected.

Affected how, exactly? I don't know.

I only know that I love to watch them, and they have changed me somehow.

And finally. . . .

I bet you've been affected, too.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Baby, You Can Drive My Car

2008-04-22T22:55:00.003-04:00

I envy people who can just jump into the car and go somewhere complicated * without breaking out in a cold sweat of horror at the thought of trying to read road signs and maps and remembering where to turn and comprehending that there is a stop sign or a red light or a one-way street or a stopped vehicle directly in front of me, etc. etc. etc.

Let's just say that I am not a navigator. We might also say that I am not a happy driver. My vision is so bad I can't read the signs until it's too late, and the panic factor sets in and handicaps me even in the few driving skills I do have.

Nope. See my name on all those passenger seats? That's where I like to sit. It's not because I'm lazy, or that I like to see YOU do all the work. It's because when I get behind the wheel in an unfamiliar place and am required to navigate, I die a little inside, and would almost rather just pull into the first parking lot I see and sit there, in the car, for the rest of my life, rather than take to the road again.

If you are passing by a parking lot any time soon, and happen to notice a car parked a good foot from the curb, or ~~straddling~~ almost touching the white line, check to see if there's a fat chick inside the car, sweating bullets and trying desperately to re-fold a map. Tap on the window and say "hi," because it's probably me. Bring Diet Cokes. (Please.) (Thank you.)

* When I say "somewhere complicated," what I am really saying is "anyplace I don't already know by heart."

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

You Kids Sit Still and Behave

2008-04-21T00:30:00.005-04:00

When I was a kid, my family used to drive down to Alabama almost every summer. We had relatives down there, and there would be canvas army cots all over the place at night. My Alabama cousins were many years older, and I thought they were adults, I really did. Cool, stylish, trendy adults. I think the cousin closest in years to me might have been twelve.

It is the trip itself that I want to talk about tonight. Or, rather, this morning. And traveling peripherals.

This was before the time of the interstate highway, and the drive took us through every little town, middle-sized town, and city in southern Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee, and half of Alabama. We stopped at the occasional little local restaurant, because this was also before the day of the big chain restaurants. This meant, of course, that most of the time the food was actually good. Our car did not have air conditioning, which meant that we rode with all the windows down. It also meant that Dad had a very sunburned left arm.

There was no such thing as carseats for babies or toddlers, unless you counted those little canvas seats that hooked over the back of the front seat, and when we were on vacation, the car was too full for one of those. There were no seatbelts, either. Two parents, four kids, and a grandmother in one '59 Chevy made a pretty full load.

There was no stereo in the car, either. Not even a radio.

Dad was in charge, and we stopped when HE wanted to stop. And if we needed him to stop, it was of vital importance that we never tell him we needed to stop. It made him mad, and he would drive even farther just to demonstrate that he was in charge. This never bothered me, because I could, even as a small child, "hold it" for hours on end, but it pretty much killed my Other Sister, who generally needed to pee every twenty minutes. Fifteen minutes from our house and she was not only asking if we were there yet, she was already asking to go to the bathroom.

Hub and I could never afford to take our children on a real vacation until the summer between their 3rd and 5th grade. That year, we borrowed my parents' van, mortgaged our financial future for NINE YEARS with a new Discover Card, and went to Disney World.

That's right; it took nine years to pay off Discover. NEVER USE THIS CARD. It has the highest interest in the universe. But I digress.

My point is, all my father and mother had to do to maintain almost perfect order in a vehicle was to turn around and say "You kids sit still and behave." And we did. We weren't buckled in, so sitting still took some real effort, but disobeying our parents was far worse than sitting still. We looked out the windows, and counted cows, and sang, and played word games, and napped. We ate only when Dad stopped at a restaurant, although we did travel with a bushel of fresh peaches; we loved to watch dad toss the pits out of his window.

On that trip to Disney World with my own kids, all we had to do was say "Sit still and behave." and they behaved. We didn't travel with toys, or vcr's. We looked out the windows and counted cows and sang and played games. Sometimes, the kids napped. Really, the only differences between our trip and my parents' trip were the seat belts, the cooler of fruit, and the fact that we usually stopped when the children said they needed to stop.

Here is what I do not understand at all, not one single little tiny bit: why do modern parents supply their vehicles - and thus their children - with all the comforts of home? Why do families need movies, and toys, and a constant supply of snacks, for a road trip? Why do parents nowadays allow their children to dictate when they stop and where? Why don't parents tell their kids to look out the windows, count the cows, play word games, and sing?

My parents talked to us when we were on the road. A lot of modern parents couldn't talk to their kids if they wanted to, because the kids are watching Disney in the back of the minivan.

Modern kids couldn't tell you about the scenery because they never look at it. They demand the same comforts of a vehicle that they demand at home: television, toys, food, drinks, and their own way.

A lot of modern parents would gasp in horror if they heard another parent say "You kids sit still and behave yourselves."

When did it happen that road trips became such a big deal? Tons of toys. Baskets and boxes of juiceboxes and graham crackers and cheese and bottled water. Always with the water. I don't think most people these days have ever been really thirsty because they're never without a bottle of water.

We never had drinks in the car. We drank when we stopped. We knew what it felt like to be genuinely thirsty and we appreciated those rare drinks very much. There were no sticky spills and no crumbs or wrappers in my parents' car.

When we stopped to eat, we parked and went inside. No food or drinks came back outside with us. We ate and drank in the restaurant. And we appreciated it, for we were hungry. After we ate, we weren't hungry and didn't need any snacks or drinks "for the road."

What's the matter with people these days? Let your kids get thirsty. Let them get hungry. Don't anticipate EVERYTHING because when you do, they don't appreciate what they get when they get it.

If they cry or scream for food or toys, etc, tell them to look out the window, and count the cows, and see who can be first to find a blue house. You might also practice turning around and saying, "You kids sit still and behave."

And if they don't obey you, you've got a far bigger problem than you might think.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

He that is good for making excuses, is seldom good for anything else. --Benjamin Franklin

2008-04-20T16:17:00.003-04:00

Dear Parents, Siblings, Friends, Neighbors, Spouses, Fiancees, and Ex-Fiancees of my students:

While I appreciate the concern all of you feel, from time to time, about the grades, attendance, and overall class status of the students in question, please allow me to remind you that the law prohibits me from giving you the slightest detail of his/her standing in my class.

No, I cannot tell you whether or not a student was present on any given day.

No, I cannot tell you whether or not a student is passing or failing.

No, I cannot tell you what assignments a student is missing, and even if I could it wouldn't matter because at the college level, there are no make-ups.

No, I cannot give you the assignment due next Monday.

I can give this information only to the student himself/herself, and I never do that over the phone because how, then, would I know it's not YOU instead of the student?

Thanks for asking.

Sincerely,
Insensitive Professor

P.S. Yes, I understand that you are paying all of this student's fees, tuition, and books, but I still can't tell you.

P. P.S. I work really hard to make my lessons as interesting and memorable as I possibly can, but if a student is not there, how can he/she benefit from it? Yes, we covered Chapter 28, but we did far, far more than that. I guess you had to be there. . . .

==

80% of success is showing up. --Woody Allen (not that he is anybody to imitate!) (Ick factor: 99.9%)

Chance is always powerful. Let your hook be always cast; in the pool where you least expect it, there will be a fish. -Ovid

Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted. --Einstein

You can buy people's time; you can buy their physical presence at a given place; you can even buy a measured number of their skilled muscular motions per hour. But you cannot buy enthusiasm. You cannot buy loyalty. You cannot buy the devotion of hearts, minds, or souls. You must earn these. --Clarence Francis

Apparently a new galaxy is being formed or something. But what it is, they have discovered a huge cloud of dust there. And scientists believe if they could look and see under the dust, they would find an enormous exercise bicycle. --Bill Maher

It is the essence of our educational system that whatever part of the institution is not run by the inmates is reserved for the parents of the inmates. --Murray Kempton

We create our fate every day. . . most of the ills we suffer from are directly traceable to our own behavior. --Henry Miller

Your future depends on many things, but mostly on you. --Frank Tyger

I can't choose how I feel, but I can choose what I do about it. --Andy Rooney

Experience keeps a dear school, but fools will learn in no other, and scarce in that; for it is true: we may give advice, but we cannot give conduct. --Benjamin Franklin

He that is good for making excuses, is seldom good for anything else. --Benjamin Franklin

It is a wretched taste to be gratified with mediocrity when the excellence lies before us. --Isaac D'Israeli

A fool has no dialogue within himself; the first thought carries him without the reply of a second. --Lord Halifax

There are more fools than knaves int he world, else the knaves would not have enough to live upon. --Samuel Butler

Facing it - always facing it - that's the way to get through. Face it! --Joseph Conrad

The reason most people fail instead of succeed is that they trade what they want most for what they want at the moment. --Anon.

The world can never nail down genius, but it can crucify it. --Puzant Kevork Thomajan

When a true genius appears in the world, you may know him by this sign: that the dunces are all in confederacy against him. --Jonathan Swift

Genius may have its limitations, but stupidity is not thus handicapped. --Elbert Hubbard

Mediocrity knows nothing higher than itself, but talent instantly recognizes genius. -- Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

No generalization is wholly true, not even this one. --Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.

There is no self-made man. You will reach your goals only with the help of others. --George Shinn

Good and bad men are each less so than they seem. --Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Though we speak with the tongues of men and angels, and give our bodies to be burned. . . if we are irritable or hard to live with, it all counts for nothing. --Anon

People with limited imaginations find it hard to imagine that anyone else has an imagination. Therefore, they must think that everything they read in some way happened. --John Irving

In order to be irreplaceable, one must always be different. --Coco Chanel

Millions long for immortality who do not know what to do with themselves on a rainy Sunday afternoon. --Susan Ertz

To do easily what's difficult for others is the mark of talent. To do what is impossible for talent is the mark of genius. --Frederic Amiel

Genius ain't anything more than elegant common sense. --Josh Billings.

The greatest sin in the world is ignorance in motion. --Jan Aird

Help us, God, and give us light so that we don't stand in our own way; let us do from morning till night what should be done; and give us clear ideas of the consequences of our actions. --Goethe

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Rooney Ain't The Only One Sh, Sh, Shakin'

2008-04-18T09:23:00.002-04:00

I didn't need an alarm clock to wake me up this morning.

How coincidental that I lectured my students on the New Madrid Fault Line just last week, and emphasized to them for the five billionth time that nothing important exists only within the four walls of a classroom, after which a young man scoffed at this "useless information" and asked me, for the seventy-billionth time in my career, why he had to learn all this stupid stuff.

I just KNOW that his first thought this morning was ~~"Holy Shit, we're all going to die!"~~ "Wow, my professor knew what she was talking about!"

We're all okay here, and thank you all so much for asking. I appreciate your concern, and I hope all of you are okay, too.

P.S. The title? It's a song; didn't you know? ". . . it's not normal, but what is normal. . . ?"

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

I Wish I Had Known My Grandmother

2008-04-17T23:08:00.004-04:00

This is my maternal grandmother, holding my mother's older sister, who is my Cousin C's mother.

Mom told me that Mamaw was visiting one of her sisters in Indianapolis, and they took her to a studio to have the baby's picture taken. When the photographer saw how young the baby was, he told Mamaw that she would have to hold her.

Mamaw protested that she wasn't dressed or groomed to have her picture taken, but finally gave in and did it.

None of us cousins ever knew our grandmother, not really. She had a stroke when she was in her forties and after that, she was, well, perhaps "barking mad" is a bit extreme, but she certainly wasn't herself. The strong, smart woman she really was, was gone: the woman who refused to allow her militant dictatorial mother-in-law to name HER babies as the old woman had all her other grandchildren; the resourceful, creative woman who took her children berry-picking and "let" them eat cobbler for dinner when in fact she was at desperation's door because there was no food in the house and the berry-picking was the only way to get some kind of food; the determined, hardworking woman who took care of four kids all by herself during the week and saw her railroading husband (no, not THAT kind of railroading!) only on weekends; the laughing, intelligent woman who could recite all kinds of poetry; and, a little after the stroke, with one of her last few lucid moments, the brave woman who told my father to take my mother out of the house and marry her before mom sacrificed herself and stayed single to take care of her little brothers because it was obvious that Mamaw's stroke had taken her intellect and social graces and flushed them down the toilet. . . this is the part of Mamaw none of us cousins ever knew.

However, the woman who managed to say whatever she wanted to say, no matter how bizarre her grammar had become, who managed to hold herself and her house together when her husband was crushed by a falling house, and who could recite the alphabet backwards to make her grandchildren laugh, the funny woman who almost choked to death laughing whenever she heard Mahalia Jackson sing when Channel Four signed off at midnight (many apologies to Mahalia Jackson fans; to Mamaw, her singing just seemed funny.) the kind woman who asked C and me every Saturday morning, "Carol, Janie, breakfast what?" and then fixed it for us. . . we knew this woman well. We stayed with her every weekend we could, mostly because we were largely unsupervised and could do anything we wanted, and partly because I think we knew, even in our unbridled running around the neighborhood and staying up after midnight, and watching forbidden scary movies, and fixing french fries for every meal, and poking fun at Mamaw's O/C compulsions to walk around and touch everything in a room, that if push came to shove, Mamaw would somehow take care of us in spite of that stroke. The woman she really was, was still in there somewhere.

I think she looks beautiful in that picture. I wish I could have known that woman. Everybody says she was fantastic.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Oh Dear. That Might Be My Nasty Side Showing Again.

2008-04-17T13:15:00.003-04:00

I am feeling very petty today. No, not pretty, PETTY.

This will be a very petty rant. I recognize it for its inherent pettiness and I am still upset enough to go ahead and let my pettiness show.

Bear with me, for I am very, very petty today.

I fully understand that I do not own my name; millions of other parents gave their daughters the same name; they did so before I was born and they're still doing so because I have, if I may say so, a pretty cool name. Nobody is responsible for the name on his/her birth certificate. That name was not our choice.

Other names, in our lives, ARE chosen. And when one chooses a name to be known by, one should be careful.

When one wishes to have an online identity, one tends to be rather possessive of the name one CHOOSES to be known as. Our online, internet, blog-names are choices we make, and as with all choices, care should be taken.

In the beginning, the Blogosphere was sparsely populated, and any name one chose was probably the ONLY name of that kind "out there." However, the Blogosphere has now Big Banged, and there are lots of us "out there," and in order for the Blogosphere to maintain individual identity for its inhabitants, it's extremely important for the new neighbors to. . . DO A LITTLE RESEARCH BEFORE CHOOSING AN IDENTIFYING INTERNET NAME, BECAUSE WHEN YOU DON'T CHECK IT OUT FIRST, YOU MIGHT CHOOSE A NAME FOR YOURSELF THAT SOMEONE ELSE HAS ALREADY ESTABLISHED HIMSELF/HERSELF WITH . . . and that creates confusion and hard feelings.

Did I mention the hard feelings?

Yes, you can choose any name you want, to sign your posts with. Sigh. Use Dooce's name, or Michele's, or Siggy's, or MommaK's, or Hoss's, or Monty's, or Fausta's, or Suburban Turmoil's, Kenju's, or Muzik's, or Cary Grant's, or Popeye's, or Little Lulu's, or Herman the Hermit's, . . . but you can bet people won't appreciate it, and you can also bet that your neighbors in the Blogosphere will think you're a complete and total tool for A. not doing your homework first and discovering that HELLO, these names are already in use! and B. not realizing that such things are simply NOT DONE. At least, they're not done by the established Blogosphere.

Please, Newbies, before you start posting and commenting using names that someone else has already built a following with, do some simple research first. Google it. If it comes up, choose something else. Please.

It's not pleasant when one starts to get email and Google Alerts, etc, for posts one hasn't made and knows nothing about. It's also extremely unpleasant when I see my Blogosphere Name in the comments of other blogs, because until one clicks the link, it would appear to be MY comment. Yes, I capitalize "Blogosphere Name." It's that important to me.

Because it's my name in this neighborhood. You newbies, with your brand-new blogs*, who decided you wanted to blog under the name "Mamacita," there's no law against it. There's nothing I can do. It's a generic word. It's up for grabs. It's not copyrighted, nor can it be, because it's just a word, like "mother" or "auntie" or "sister" or "papa-san" or "sweet petunia" or "amazing lack of credibility or creativity." Pick any name you like. There's nothing anybody can do about it. There's nothing I can do about it.

Except maybe give you these few pieces of advice, the main one being, "Get your own damn blog- name and don't use someone else's!"

People work hard to establish themselves under a certain name. It's not nice to elbow oneself in and try to blog using a name that someone else is already associated with.

I do not for one moment believe that any of the recent Mamacitas chose this name out of malice or anything remotely such. I think they all just didn't know any better. They liked the sound of it, or that's what they're called at home, or it just seemed cool, whatever.

But I do believe that the days of assuming that on the internet, one can choose to be whatever or whoever one wishes to be, are over; there are far too many of us living here now, and we prefer not to get someone else's email, or to be mistaken for someone else because that someone else has chosen to use an already-established name.

I have blogged about this issue before, back when it was still kind of funny; but after getting that last batch of Google Alerts about "myself," I'm not laughing any more. I'm actually really pissed.

How pissed am I? You really don't want to know.

Let's just say that when my students try to claim or pass off something as their own when in fact it is actually associated with someone else, I fail them.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

*By "brand-new blog" I am referring to any blog less than four years old.

I Don't Want To Fall Asleep. I Don't Want To Miss A Thing.

2008-04-15T22:28:00.003-04:00

When my Other Sister and I were about fourteen and fifteen years old, more or less, Mom and Dad took us all to the Cincinnati Zoo. We stayed in a downtown hotel, and Other and I had our own room. My brother and Tumorless stayed in the room with Mom and Dad.

That afternoon, Dad gave O.S. and me TEN DOLLARS APIECE and turned us loose in downtown Cincinnati. I can't speak for my sister, but I was so surprised at the permission and so blown away by that much money that I was almost in shock as we began walking around the city, looking in the big windows and gawking like the small-town tourist-girls that we so sadly were. I don't remember if I bought anything, but I remember watching my sister try on culotte-dresses, which were all the rage back then. I remember looking at her and thinking how pretty she was, and how nice she looked in the white culotte dress she finally chose. I can remember thinking - possibly for the first time, because I was a strange and moody kid and usually so lost in books that real life annoyed me - that she wasn't merely a slightly younger sister whose sole purpose on this earth was to bother me, but that she was a person in her own right, and she was beautiful and smart and was going to make a positive difference in the world. I watched her turn in the many-faceted mirror and every view of her was beautiful.

When we got home, I took her picture, as she stood in front of our house wearing her white dress. I'd post it here, but O.S. values her privacy.

I'm still cleaning up Mom's old photographs; this picture was one of them, tonight. It brought back a lot of memories. All of the pictures are bringing back memories, but the picture of my Other Sister, so young and pretty and smiling, in her new white dress that was purchased in the Big City while two young teens were on their own for a few hours and trusted with what was, to us, an incredible amount of money, made me smile, and wish she lived closer.

This trip was also the only time in my entire life that I've had my own hotel room. Well, shared with someone other than a parent or husband, that is. It's also the only time I've ever explored a city without an adult pretty much holding my hand and telling me when it's okay to cross the street. Seriously, you all have NO IDEA how provincial and small-town and backward I really am. I can face rooms full of needy students and I can give them what for and I can lecture to huge groups, and discuss, and I can stand my ground with nonsense and entitlement issues, and I can bustle around in a kitchen full of people and I can go to conventions and seminars and give demonstrations and talk to total strangers, and I pretty much know exactly what to do when people NEED me, but when I'm faced with meeting people I'm not working with. . . people who don't really need me. . . . people I can't do anything for, work-wise. . . people I hope will, well, um, love me and want to hang out and be friends. . . I'm at a total loss sometimes.

I'm looking forward to BlogHer for many reasons, and one of them is that while I am there, I'll be working - and it's so easy to relax and meet and talk to people when I'm working because, um, they HAVE to talk to me because they will need me - and while I am there, I'll also be on a panel - and it's so much easier to talk and relax when I have a defined purpose - but most of all? Most of all?

I love BlogHer because so many people I've read and loved and, okay, yes, KNOWN, for several years now will be there, and I'm going to try to stand up straight, take a deep breath, and approach them without melting into a bubbly mass of insecurity.

I've made two good starts. I'm going to Chinatown with Fausta, and I'm sleeping with Monty.

That's right. We're going to be ROOMIES in SAN FRANCISCO in a big fancy HOTEL without responsible adults to watch over us!

And then the three of us will hit Chinatown and who knows what else because I've had experience walking around a big city, by golly, and we're going to paint the town.

That ten dollars is sounding pretty good right now, too.

I think all of you should sign up for BlogHer. It's the most fun I've ever had in all my entire life, that didn't involve a theme park pass or nudity.

Then again, there are theme parks in California, and who am I to dictate to people what to wear?

Blogroll. . . Google Reader. . . I want to see you in person, and I want pictures.

And when I get to BlogHer, I don't want to miss a thing. Alert Steven Tyler.

Can't wait. CAN'T WAIT. But I try to be mature about it.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Mom

2008-04-15T00:48:00.005-04:00

This is my mother's senior picture. I can remember looking at this picture as a small child and thinking, "My mommy is as beautiful as a movie star."

I hadn't seen this picture in at least thirty years, but it's one of the pictures that I scanned to put on her new digital picture frame.

My opinion hasn't changed, either.

My mommy is still as beautiful as a movie star.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

And monie a canty day, John, we've had wi' ane anither. . . .

2008-04-12T11:45:00.003-04:00

It's Saturday, and I could have slept in. Sleeping in is the very essence of "weekend" to me, and I usually make use of every opportunity that comes my way. I am a night person to the extreme, and I am at my most alert in the wee sma's. I would have been an excellent vampire; the hours are ideal, and the thought of being empowered to suck the very lifeblood out of anybody who wronged me is most appealing.

It worries me, those thoughts. I'd stop having them if I could, but since ~~it's obvious to anybody who knows me even a little bit that I really like them~~ they are beyond my control, I just have to live with them. It's a condition. I can't help it. I should be getting guv'ment money because I have a condition. Everybody else who has a condition is getting money for it.

It's not my fault that I have a condition. I should be monetarily compensated for having a condition. Gone are the days when vampires were labeled "monsters" and sold in plastic pieces by Aurora Models along with Frankenstein (which is NOT the monster's name) Wolfman, and the Mummy.

Whatever. I couldn't sleep in this morning, and it's my mother's fault. I gave her a Kodak S510 digital picture frame for Mother's Day (I'm early, but I couldn't wait to give it to her) (If you search carefully, you can find one for under forty bucks now!) and she let me take her old photo albums home to scan the best pictures so I can put them on the digital frame. (Digital picture frames are AWESOME. And wireless digital picture frames are even better!) (Mine has its own email address; let me know if you'd like to send me some pics.) (Seriously, I absolutely adore my beautiful, wonderful wireless picture frame.) (I'd love to get pictures from you!)

So, until almost 5 a.m., I was turning pages, scanning old photographs (some taken with a Brownie Starmite; some were taken with a little square brown plastic camera my mother had in high school; there were even a few tintypes!) People I've known all my life danced through those photo albums. My parents, aunts, uncles, neighbors. . . people I thought were OLD when they were actually in their twenties and thirties. . . and they were all so beautiful. My siblings, from birth to yesterday, changing so subtly year after year until finally they looked as they look today. The house where we all grew up: it was so TINY! I never noticed until last night just how small that house really was. My mother and father, interacting with us, in color and in black-and-white. . . somehow, the black-and-white photographs were far more beautiful and telling.

I finished scanning the stack of albums, but haven't trimmed and cleaned up all the pictures yet. And when I take this stack of albums back, I'll take home yet another stack.

It's a good thing I bought a 2-gig flash drive last night; the 512MB drive that's in her frame now would never be able to handle this kind of picture load. The new drive is a Lexar and it's only about an inch long. If you have a digital picture frame and want to use a flash drive with it, I highly recommend this tiny Lexar. It doesn't even show when it's plugged into the frame!

Buy it at WalMart or K-Mart, though. It's wayyyy cheaper there. Considerably. Isn't technology amazing? Who could ever imagine that something an inch long could hold thousands of pictures?

Anyway, back to my original point: I couldn't sleep in this morning because my dreams kept waking me up. Where did all of these young, beautiful people go?

Then I looked in the mirror and thought, "Yes, where indeed?" Sigh.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

All Alone and Laughing Out Loud

2008-04-11T23:04:00.001-04:00

Well, wouldn't you?

All In Good Time, My Dear

2008-04-10T00:28:00.003-04:00

For the past several years, my teaching schedule has been very full. I'm paid by the course, so the more courses the better!

This semester, however, three of my scheduled classes were canceled at the last minute, leaving me with a VERY short schedule and even less money than usual. At first I was actually despondent, wondering WHY and what were we going to do? I was trembling with fear of the unknown, and since I've never had much free time in my whole life, I really wondered how I would make it through this very difficult time. I cried, and I prayed, and I despaired (always a waste of time and energy) and I asked the universe what was going on. What was this for? Why? How will we pay our bills? Was I going to lose my last excuse for not doing housework?

But mostly just WHY?

But now I think I know why.

If I had my usual extremely full schedule, there would be nobody to take my MIL to her radiation treatments. With my very abbreviated schedule, I am able to do that for her.

So I have changed my attitude from "What are we going to do? My schedule has been cut and we're poorer than ever!" to "Thank goodness my schedule has been cut! Now I can take my MIL to her clinic every day!"

Maybe things really do happen for a reason. I have a list of happenings that are still upsetting and puzzling me, but even those helped make it possible for me to help my MIL.

When we are despondent and cry to the heavens "WHY?" maybe "You'll find out" is a viable answer. Because, you know, sometimes we really do find out. Later, or in due time, or after while, or eventually, but we really do find out.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Mothers-in-law Are People, Too

2008-04-08T10:11:00.003-04:00

Before I go to the college, I've been taking my MIL to the cancer clinic every morning for radiation treatment. She's a newspaper reporter: a scrappy little fighter whose lifelong faith enables her to not fear death, but she has chosen to delay it as long as possible because she's simply not finished living yet.

Today is the only day I won't be taking her, because I'm, like, on the radio and stuff, but Belle took the morning off work to come down and take her grandmother for the treatment.

Everyone at the cancer clinic has been extraordinarily kind, and has treated my MIL like a queen when she is there. Someone is standing in the lobby waiting for her when we walk through the doors, and every step of each procedure has been explained to her thoroughly and patiently. She has never once been treated in any kind of brusque, clinical, hurried, or condescending manner.

The facility isn't bone-chillingly cold, as hospitals so often are, and the magazines in the waiting room are up-to-date. Imagine!

She was desperately frightened, and naturally so, but now, much of the fright has gone and while it's not something to look forward to at all, it's at least lost its teeth and claws and can be faced calmly, know that this, too, shall pass.

After her treatment, she usually feels perky enough to spring for lunch, even. Bless her heart.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Ring Ring Ring Ring Ring Ring Ring Ring Bananaphone

2008-04-08T00:25:00.003-04:00

Honest to boo, I think my phone started ringing around six this evening and only just now stopped.

It never does that unless I'm buried alive in work. When I've got an evening free and would welcome some conversation, the phone is silent. Most evenings, I'm free. Call me! Please! Just, not tonight. Sigh.

I'd turn it off when I'm swamped, but I've got kids who live out of town, and an elderly mother and MIL who occasionally need me for something important. I will be here when people need me.

Absolutely.

If you've got an hour to spare on Tuesday at 10: a.m., come on over to Fausta's Podcast. I'll be there, trying to pretend I'm as smart as Fausta and Siggy. Call in. Comment.

There's the phone again. Honestly. Ring Ring Ring Ring Ring Ring Ring Ring. . .

(Don't watch the video if dreadful songs tend to ~~haunt you~~ play over and over in your head until you scream for mercy. It's actually quite a silly video. And you'll be haunted. Forever. There's a flash version that cracks me up, but it's quite dreadful, really, and if you ever saw it, you'd wonder if I really belonged on the nursing home porch, rocking, rocking, rocking away, and think that perhaps I would be better served living in Dr. Yamamoto's Finest Kind Pediatric Hospital and Whorehouse. (Bonus points if you know the source.)

An Oven Full Of Quotatious Pie

2008-04-06T14:49:00.004-04:00

On a beautiful sunny Sunday such as today, one's thoughts really ought to be turning to proper, serious, classical things, such as opera, or political debate, or baking a pecan pie for our visiting children, or religion, or ballet. . .

Speaking of which:

The pecan pie is in the oven as I type, and I did think some serious political thoughts for a few minutes. They were about how one candidate always seems to be having a bad hair day, and how another seems to have his very own Rasputin, and how another might be a viable choice if not for his truly horrible morning radio show, but I still call them "political thoughts."

Also? I don't care for pecan pie, myself. I make them for other people.

I don't really like any kind of pie. I just like to make them.

Today's quotes:

Where brains are what you need, force will not succeed. - Yiddish proverb

Whom the gods would make bigots, they first deprive of humor. --James M. Gilles

To destroy the Western tradition of independent thought, it is not necessary to burn the books. All we have to do is to leave them unread for a couple of generations. --Robert Maynard Hutchins

Belief in a cruel God makes a cruel man. --Thomas Paine

Behavior is a mirror in which everyone displays his image. ---Goethe

Well, my husband and I would have enjoyed being Southern Baptists, but we decided we just weren't physically equal to it. --Anon.

I am inclined to judge a belief quite differently, according to whether it asks the right to be one or insists on being the only one. --Jean Rostand

From the moment I picked your book up until I laid it down, I was convulsed with laughter. Some day I intend reading it. --Groucho Marx

The illusions of childhood are necessary experiences. A child should not be denied a balloon because an adult knows that sooner or later it will break. --Marceline Cox

Do not wait for extraordinary circumstances to do good; try to use ordinary circumstances. -Jean Paul Richter

Reporter: Mr. Ghandi, what do you think of Western civilization?
Ghandi: I think it would be a very good idea.

If you see a snake, just kill it - don't appoing a committee on snakes. --Ross Perot

I love cats because I enjoy my home, and little by little, they become its visible soul. --Jean Cocteau

A bird is a bird, a dog is a dog, but a cat is a person. -- Mugsy Peabody

The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there. --Michael Redgrave

You can't use tact with a congressman. A congressman is a hog. You must take a stick and hit him on the snout. --Henry Adams

Our character is but the stamp on our souls of the free choices of good and evil we have made through life. --John Cunningham Geikie

The best classroom in the world is at the feet of an elderly person. --Andy Rooney

He and I once had an office so tiny that an inch smaller and it would have been adultery.
--Dorothy Parker

The artist brings something into the world that didn't exist before, and he does it without destroying something else. --John Updike

A painter paints pictures on canvas. But musicians paint their pictures on silence. --Stowkowski

There is no education like adversity. --Walt Disney

How old would you be if you didn't know how old you was? --Satchel Paige

Pat: He was an Anglo-Irishman.
Meg: In the blessed name of God, what's that?
Pat: A Protestant with a horse.
--Brendan Behan

An administrator is a legless man who teaches running. --Anon

If you look at life one way, there is always cause for alarm. --Elizabeth Bowen

When the free market rules in the world of art, you don't get Beethoven and Bach, you get Beavis and Butthead. --Pieter Breitner

Don't be afraid to be amazing. --Andy Offute Irwin

We are each other's angels; we meet when it is time. --Chuck Brodsky

Every great advance in natural knowledge has involved the absolute rejection of authority. --Thomas Henry Huxley

It does not require many words to speak the truth. --Chief Joseph

In seeking truth, you have to get both sides of a story. --Walter Cronkite

The teenagers aren't all bad. I love'em if nobody else does. there ain't nothing wrong with young people. Jus' quit lyin' to 'em. --Jackie "Moms" Mabley

I do love a good quotation! Did you know?

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

. . . wherein I again speak about Lays. I'm all for them.

2008-04-05T17:07:00.003-04:00

As a child, I was a terribly picky eater. It didn't do any good to mention it, though, because I couldn't leave the table until I'd eaten what my mother told me to eat.

Now, unfortunately, I'm not quite as picky with most foods. I'll try pretty much anything, and I love to go to fun restaurants and experiment.

HOWEVER. Once I've experimented, I might add something to my "Intense Hatred List" of foods for all time. That list isn't very long, but what few things are on there, are genuinely detested and I'll thank the fates that be not to EVER put them on my plate again.

Sauerkraut. Boiled spinach. Extremely spicily hot foods. There are others, but those might head the list.

I'm not likely to encounter most of my detested foods in any kind of ordinary situation, but when it comes to snack foods, or "foods I'm most likely to have for lunch when nobody's home but me," I've had some nasty surprises.

I do not like flavored potato chips. I've tried them all and I don't like them. I'd rather have none, than a flavored chip.

I do not like flavored colas, unless they are fresh from the fountain. (you young things might have to look up "fountain drinks") I once took a sip of a lime-flavored diet coke and almost rose up out of my chair in outrage.

Plain Lay's potato chips. Plain diet coke.

Beyond that, I'm good to go just about anywhere.

I won't, however, order sauerkraut, and I prefer my spinach fresh, thankyouverymuch.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Naked People

2008-04-05T02:14:00.003-04:00

There is something about trees in winter that makes me think of good a cappella. Without the accompanying leaves and instrumentals, I can see the actual shape of the tree, or the song.

I suppose this analogy could also be used for people, but honestly? I have a list of people I'd like to see naked and most of the universe isn't on it.

Some of it is, though. :)

As for that title. . . go crazy, Google!

It was entirely coincidental. I would NEVER* do something like that on purpose.

*Unless you caught me in a mood.**

**I am occasionally in a mood.***

***This is not to be confused with "In THE mood."****

****I am occasionally in THE mood, too.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

I Put Ketchup On My Steak. Live With It.

2008-04-04T18:37:00.004-04:00

I have been an adult for a long time now, but I still like to dip my steak in ketchup. I like french fries dipped in ketchup, too - but only if they're fat fries. Little salty skinny fries are good without ketchup. Roast beef? Ketchup. Meat loaf? Ketchup in it and on it. Not just a sissy little dollop of ketchup, either; I need a pile. You know, for dipping purposes.

When I was a child, I put ketchup on mashed potatoes and French toast, so I guess you could say I'm improving somewhat.

Do I care? No. I like ketchup on my steak. And besides a few additional spices, how is that any different from putting A-1 on your steak?

The only thing I really look back in horror on is the French toast. That was pretty disgusting.

P.S. The steak has to be cooked "medium." I like for the inside to match the ketchup.
P.P.S. If you want to spell it "catsup" that's fine with me, too.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

I Do Love A Good Quotation

2008-04-03T19:27:00.002-04:00

I have been collecting quotations since ~~before most of you were born or thought of~~ I was in college. There is just something about words in certain combinations that fascinates me, tantalizes me, makes me laugh out loud, reduces me to heartbroken tears, infuriates me, sweeps me off my feet, reminds me of experiences actually experienced and/or on my to-be-experienced list, causes my heart to beat faster in love, hate, outrage, and shock. Good quotations are not necessarily thoughts that I believe in. Sometimes, a horrendous thought or belief, expressed well, is worth remembering, too.

Words have power. When we know a lot of words, we have power. When we can string the words we know together, and weave a thought into a coherent sentence - and what is a coherent sentence but a thought given bodily substance - we join those in whose hands a pen is a wand capable of moving mountains.

I keep my quotes on file cards, one quote to a card. I used to file the cards in alphabetical order, according to theme, but as I use my quote cards in my classes so much, any logical order they may once have been in has long since disintegrated. I like it better this way, actually; thoughts coming at me randomly force me to use brain cells that may never have been used before. Whether this delays or speeds up the inevitable day when I'll be able to hide my own Easter eggs, I know not. But I do know that I loves me some wisdom, some wit, some whimsy, some rancor, some love, some heartbreak, some hatred, some sarcasm, some disgust, some clever whining, some intellectual "wow's," and some evil incarnate, as long as it's all put together in some mighty and majestic turn-of-phrase.

"Nothing will ever be attempted if all possible objections must be first overcome." --Samuel Johnson

"Do not think of knocking out another person's brains because he differs in opinion from you. It would be as rational to knock yourself on the head because you differ from yourself ten years ago." --Horace Mann

"Those who never retract their opinions love themselves more than they love truth." -- Joseph Joubert

"To force opinion is like pushing the magnetized needle round by brute strength until it points to where we wish the North Star stood, rather than to where it really is." - Dorothy Canfield Fisher

"Consistancy requires you to be as ignorant today as you were a year ago." --Bernard Berenson

"The people who are always hankering loudest for some golden yesteryear usually drive new cars." - Russell Baker

"Adversity is the trial of principle. Without it, a man hardly knows whether he is honest or not." --Henry Fielding

"If you are losing a tug-of-war with a tiger, give him the rope before he gets to your arm. You can always buy a new rope." --Max Gunther

"Every job is a self-portrait of the person who does it. Autograph your work with excellence." --Unknown

"You have to pay dearly for being an imaginative person. You see a great deal and feel a great deal, but there is ugliness to see and feel as well as beauty, and in yourself as well as in others." --Sherwood Anderson

"We are all here and it is now. Further than that, all human knowledge is moonshine." --H.L. Mencken

"Many a man who would not dream of putting too much pressure in his automobile tires, lays a constant overstrain on his heart and arteries." --Bruce Barton

"A dining room table with children's eager, hungry faces around it, ceases to be a mere dining room table, and becomes an altar." --Simeon Strunsky

"I think we're all heroes if you catch us at the right time." --Andy Garcia

"How many fancy they have experience simply because they have grown old." - Stanislas I

"He who accepts evil without protesting against it is really co-operating with it." - ML King, Jr.

"If you're going through hell, keep going." - Winston Churchill

"Remember, remember always, that all of us, and you and I especially, are descended from immigrants and revolutionists." --FDR

"Dreaming permits each and every one of us to be quietly and safely insane every night of our lives." --Charles William Dement

"If boys and girls do not learn discipline in their school days, money and time spent on their education is so much national loss." --Ghandi

"It is not the facts which guide the conduct of men, but their opinions about facts, which may be entirely wrong. We can only make them right by discussion." --Sir Normal Angele

"The character that needs law to mend it, is hardly worth the tinkering." --Unknown

"Logical consequences are the scarecrows of fools and the beacons of wise men." -T.H. Huxley

"He that is not open to conviction, is not qualified for discussion." --Richard Whately

"Democracy is based upon the conviction that there are extraordinary possibilities in ordinary people." --Harry Emerson Fosdick

"Discovery consists of seeing what everybody has seen, and thinking what nobody has thought." - Albert Szent-Gyorgi

. . . to be continued, here and there, now and then, as the mood overtakes me, and it will.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Not One Of My Better Ideas, Pt. 2

2008-04-03T13:45:00.002-04:00

I once bought quart-size bottles of glitter - all colors - and gave my sixth graders carte blanche to make creative castle/dragon/princess/knight posters for my unabridged fairy tale unit.

Three years later the carpet was still twinkling and the janitor was still mad.

Bill Clinton Spoke Here

2008-04-02T19:24:00.003-04:00

Bill Clinton was supposed to speak in one of our middle schools' gymnasiums at 12:30 today. (The mid-town one, naturally; nobody ever presents anything at either of the two rural middle schools) I was supposed to pick up my sweet MIL from the newspaper office (she is a reporter) at 11:10, and take her to a doctor's appointment. As I was trying to get there, around 11:00, many of the streets in the middle of town were already blocked and guarded by police cars and fire trucks, and the crowds were thick.

I managed to get to her office and pick her up, and with just a little maneuvering and a few detours we made it to the doctor's office in time.

After her appointment, we stopped for a quick lunch and then I took her back to work. Bill still hadn't shown up, but the streets were still blocked and the crowds were even bigger.

I had no desire to see Bill Clinton or anyone he might be still married to as I type, so I came back home. I was interested in his visit from a historical standpoint, however, so every once in a while I checked them pesky internets to see what he was speaking about, but at 2:00 he still hadn't shown up. I started to wonder what the middle school was going to do about getting all those kids on their respective buses pretty soon. The streets were completely congested and I was betting to myself that there would be no way the guards would allow all those school buses in there.

I finally got an email from my Cousin C; she'd been standing up for over four hours but felt it was worthwhile because when Bill finally did show up, he put on a good show.

Of course, he's always been good at putting on a good show. (insert unkind smirk here)

I had a brief fantasy about being there and having him come up to me, shake my hand, and ask me if I was planning to vote for Hilary. He would use that smooth tone of voice - the one he always used when he told lies - and his charismatic wink, and I, still holding his hand, would smile at him and say sweetly, into the camera, "Oh HELL to the no. "

What, you have other kinds of fantasies? These days, mine are usually scenarios of some kind.

Maybe that kind, maybe. But mostly, this kind. Sigh.

Bill was supposed to speak at Assembly Hall at IU at 2:00. He was late for that gig, too. I have a feeling it won't matter as much up there, though, because Bill's visit was maybe just a tiny tad shown up by the Hoosiers hiring a new basketball coach.

Down here, people think basketball is important. More important than academics, more important than culture, more important than integrity, more important than good behavior, and definitely more important than politics.

Welcome to Indiana, Clintons.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

Skate Keys and Sidewalk Cracks

2008-04-02T01:06:00.006-04:00

When I was a little kid, I was on wheels all the time. Either I was riding my bike, or I was wearing my skates. I was seldom still. The few times I wasn't on wheels, I was up in the neighbor's apple tree, reading, or hiding from my siblings. I had to go SOMEWHERE for privacy and I didn't have any at home. My siblings laugh, even now, at my desperate need for something and some place of my own, but the fact was - and still is - I have to have it or something in me perishes completely. People who don't have that need don't understand, and never will.

Those skates. The clamps bit into my tennis shoes and made little blisters and then little cuts on the sizes of my toes, but I didn't care. On those skates, I could fly. The soles of my feet had the cracks on our sidewalks completely and thoroughly memorized. I knew instinctively when to let my foot "yield" just a little bit so the cracks and the large mounds of moss in them wouldn't trip me. Even now, I think I would remember the pattern of the sidewalk cracks with my feet.

And how did we tighten those clamps around our poor little toes? With our skate key, of course.

I wore mine on a string around my neck. If I ever lost my skate key, I would lose my ability to fly up and down the sidewalk around our house.

Sure, we fell down sometimes and cut ourselves up pretty thoroughly. Back then, that was called "Duh, I was PLAYING." That's what band-aids were for.

As for kneepads and helmets, we would have laughed at any kid whose mommy made him wear something like that just to play outside. We were kids, and we played outside. We weren't fat and we ate pretty much whatever was put on our plates because all that activity made us genuinely hungry, and because Mom told us to. We only watched TV on Saturday mornings and sometimes a half-hour or so in the evening, and we were in bed by nine thirty.

And if we didn't WANT to go to bed then, we did anyway. We were not the bosses in our house and we knew it. If we fussed and carried on, there would be consequences and we knew what those would be and we chose to behave ourselves and obey.

I still have my skate key. It's in my jewelry box. I keep it there because, to me, it's a jewel.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly