tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139117922024-03-14T00:17:02.493-04:00The Ohoopee Letter NewsA palimpsest of past, current, and future happenings in the life of a teacher.Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.comBlogger282125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-15076511400938442082010-09-09T07:40:00.001-04:002010-09-09T07:40:49.025-04:00Creative Homecoming Themes Part 3Our ballot for homecoming themes for this year's homecoming dance:<br />
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Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory: Everyone gets a golden ticket to the most scrumdiddlyumptious dancing event in a world of pure imagination. Even Nerds will have a delickoricious time as Slugworth tries to steal the secret of the Everlasting Gobstopper. Inside this dance, all of your dreams become realities, and some of your realities become dreams. <br />
3:10 to [School name]: Load up the Conestoga wagon and hoof it on over to sprawling [school name] Ranch where you’ll whirl and gambol past the tumbleweed to the sweet sounds of banjos, lowing of cows, and the self-pity of Christian Bale. Join Doc Potter, Ben Wade, Zeke, Slick, and a host of Pinkertons at the squarest western dance this side of the OK Corral.<br />
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Midnight in Gotham: A hearty dose of DC goodness will accompany you for an evening with the Dark Knight as he battles the Joker, Arkham Asylum, and chronic mumbling. Have Lucius Fox fuel up the Batmobile and make sure to tighten up your utility belt for an epic battle against the evil within. No one from Marvel will be admitted. This means you Iron Man.<br />
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Medieval Knights: Forget the Dark Knight, join real knights at a rollicking medieval court. All of the Lords and Ladies of Castle [school name] assuredly will be taking their monthly baths for this special night of dancing among the minstrels and court jesters. <br />
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Mystery in Savannah: The Spanish moss hangs languid in air heavy with humidity and expectation. The fog-shrouded dance floor evokes a sense of mystery. Ghosts of bandit-faced raccoons and other small mammals scurry with fear from the feet of revelers dancing the cobblestones of Olde Savannah.<br />
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Winner: Midnight in Gotham! Second Place: Willy Wonka<br />
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Looks like I'll be building a city this year.<br />
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Peace<br />
..._Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-66515710838477018522010-08-31T22:12:00.000-04:002010-08-31T22:12:08.506-04:00Constituting AmericaA student of mine won a national award for a short film she made about the Constitution. She will be going to Philadelphia in a few weeks to accept the prize. <br />
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The organization that gave her the award is called <a href="http://constitutingamerica.org/index.php">Constituting America</a>. The organization's mission is to: "reach, educate and inform America's youth and her citizens about the importance of the U.S. Constitution and the foundation it sets forth regarding our freedoms and rights." Constituting America was founded by the talented Janine Turner and is co-chaired by Cathy Gillespie. The National Youth Director for CA is Janine's daughter Juliette. <br />
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The Constituting America RV/Bus showed up to school on Friday, and Janine, Juliette, and Cathy were there to interview my student. I had the pleasure of meeting them all and, because I suggested that my student enter the contest, I also ended up being interviewed by the crew. I shall try to post more later about this thrilling and fascinating day.<br />
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My student's video can be seen <a href="http://constitutingamerica.org/index.php">at the website under the category "Best Short Film."</a> You might see someone you know in the film. It was not his best performance. <br />
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Enjoy<br />
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Peace<br />
..._Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-3411602647206453632010-06-17T22:52:00.000-04:002010-06-17T22:52:07.207-04:00Fathers' DayI have posted about my dad before <a href="http://ohoopeeonline.blogspot.com/2007/04/camping-with-chintzibobs-how-spring.html">here</a>, but considering that Sunday is Fathers' Day I thought I should post again about my dad and expand on what he has meant to me as a man and as a father.<br />
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In short, my Dad is the finest man I have ever known. He possesses the rare double gifts of both wisdom and intelligence. I have known a lot of smart people without a lick of wisdom and a lot of "uneducated" people who had more sense then a room full of Harvard dons. My Dad has both. I always knew he was smart, but it only in growing older and becoming a father myself have I realized how wise he is. <br />
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My dad worked the bulk of his career at IBM. He never talked about his job. I tried to ask him from time to time about his work, but he would never tell me much more than that he was a programmer. Like all jobs do to all men, it left him drained at the end of the day. I remembering him coming home every day, kissing his wife, going up stairs to change, and then coming back down stairs to watch a bit of news or MASH while dinner was being finished up. His job never seemed to consume him, I never remember him putting his job before us. I would like to think that he was not one who lived to work, but rather he worked to live and to provide for his family. I always figured that was why he didn't talk about his work at home, because his home and family was what he really cared about and why bring work to the dinner table?<br />
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My dad imparted to me a love of World War II movies and westerns. Movies on TBS were my first education in American history. Later he would indulge my growing interest in movies by taking me to see countless movies including the first Star Trek movie and the Star Wars trilogy. I never knew what he thought of the movies, but I remember his quiet presence beside me. I hope I thanked him for all the movies. If I didn't, well, that is what this is for: thanks Pop. <br />
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Later, when I became obsessed with space, he and Mom took me to Huntsville, Alabama. Then it was every historical site on the way to family in Missouri and Virginia. <br />
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As I said in my previous post, one of the greatest things he gave me was a sense of security. If we ever had money problems (and I seriously doubt it) then I was never aware of it. My Dad is both wonderfully generous and very careful with his money. It is a great comfort to me that my Dad has planned his retirement so well that I don't have to worry about him and Mom needing to move into the basement. Indeed, it is a great joy to see them both able to travel, and give, and enjoy retirement without financial worry. All of those washed-out ziploc bags, hand-washed plastic wear, and extra-chunky powdered milks paid off. <br />
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We always had everything we needed and more. Christmas never left me wanting more (and still doesn't). <br />
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When my mother was in the hospital several years ago for an extended near-death experience, my father was a paragon of all things a husband should be. He took care of my Mom better than any nurse or doctor could. He looked out for her and gently challenged the care she was being given. When "gently" didn't work, he was strong and insistent for her. Despite his own suffering, he was the anchor for us all. He gave forgiveness and compassion to the surgeon responsible for the mistake that almost killed his wife even when it will still unsure if she would make it. It was nearly impossible to pry him from his wife's side to get home for some rest, for who could take care of her better than him? Indeed, I know I always felt better about things when he was there. I still do.<br />
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He remains the strongest and hardest-working man I know. He does what he does quietly and without complaint. <br />
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There is much more I could and probably should say, but I hope this is enough to show my appreciation and love for Pop.<br />
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Peace<br />
..._Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-92075156269813510422010-04-20T09:34:00.003-04:002010-04-20T09:37:58.900-04:00The Faces of M.E.W.<span style="color: black;">Best viewed large (taken at Red Top Mountain):</span><br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/toln/4536131181/" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Weeee! by splitcat, on Flickr"><img alt="Weeee!" height="640" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4057/4536131181_190638913c_b.jpg" width="425" /></a><span style="color: black;"></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/toln/4536119945/" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Determination by splitcat, on Flickr"><img alt="Determination" height="266" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4041/4536119945_2171bc222a_b.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/toln/4536772778/" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Smiles by splitcat, on Flickr"><img alt="Smiles" height="266" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2709/4536772778_704894bfaf_b.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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A student reported on a recent assignment that Al Capone was incarcerated at Al Catraz.<br />
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Updated: I just discovered that my wife also posted about this day <a href="http://consideringinconveniences.blogspot.com/2010/04/we-spent-part-of-sunday-at-red-top.html">here</a>. She chose two of the same pictures for her post.<br />
Peace<br />
..._Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-79008338476492431912010-04-11T19:50:00.002-04:002010-04-11T19:56:48.063-04:00Alas! A Lass Under the Bright Summer SunWhen I was a very young man, there was a young woman who attended the same church as I did. She seemed taller than she actually was. Her posture and carriage made her tall or at least higher than the other young women. She always wore pretty dresses and long hair and moved with the grace of a model. She didn't seem to walk so much as glide. I would say I had a crush on her, but I felt that she was so far above my station that I didn't feel the right to have a crush on her. I don't recall ever having the courage to speak to her. I admired her at a distance. <br />
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One very bright and sunny morning I found myself at an event where, by the fates, I was obligated to sit next to her. I tried to talk to her and be wise and witty, but mostly found I couldn't bring myself to look at her. I remember nothing of the conversation, but I remember feeling smaller and smaller and a sweat breaking out across my forehead. At last, I felt that I couldn't politely continue to carry on a conversation with her without looking in her direction. So I did. I fully expected a vision of heaven upon earth. The sun shone full in her face, a blush of heat growing upon her cheeks, and a brown mustache lit up like the Vegas strip, sordid and mundane. <br />
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I turned away, wishing that I had never looked, that she would always have remained the faultless angel seen from afar as through a rose-coloured and hairless glass. If only I could shave that hairy lip from my brain then she would still live on eternally and infinitely beautiful, but the bristles grow forever more prickly in my brain as a reminder that the full sun brings light to the flaws of every man, woman, and child. Alas for us all.<br />
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Peace<br />
..._Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-20385153722211761352010-03-31T21:42:00.000-04:002010-03-31T21:42:13.813-04:00Mid-Week Miscellany: The Lady Gaga EditionI have been a loyal, dedicated, and profitable customer of Amazon.com for years. Today, however, they hurt me. Hurt me and left me befuddled and dazed. And a little angry. Amazon has worked very hard at recommending items based upon my past browsing and buying habits. The algorithms their 10,000 monkeys generated for my account have generally been very good at suggesting books, movies, and music for my buying pleasure.<br />
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When I opened up Amazon.com today to check the status of an order, I saw, listed under "Inspired by your shopping trends," the following items:<br />
A Canon lens case (okay-good choice)<br />
A flash card (yep-understand that one)<br />
A "How to survive the end of the world" book (a little flummoxed by this one but I did buy "On the Beach," "The Day After," "The Hunt for Red October," "Wargames," "Red Dawn," "Failsafe," and "The Manchurian Candidate" all in one order this winter. Okay, maybe I'm not so flummoxed by this one; it makes sense in retrospect)<br />
A World War II computer game (hold on while I move this item to my cart)<br />
A Lady Gaga album: Bad Romance: The Remixes (this is the one that angered and befuddled me; as if I would ever...Lady Gaga!)<br />
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Speaking of the end of the world, can you believe that a teacher I know and respect believes that the world may end in 2012 and teaches this to his students? He has a survival bunker with a year's worth of water. How that will help if the world ends, I don't profess to know. Of course I know another teacher who taught French by showing French language movies that he had not previewed first. It is never a good idea to show a movie you haven't carefully watched. This is especially true of French language movies. <br />
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I am taking sixty juniors to Six Flags next week for seven and a half hours. I hate rides. I hate Six Flags. You can find me on the train or the Monster Mansion. Pray for me.<br />
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Peace<br />
..._Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-71465555029388074232010-03-13T20:00:00.001-05:002010-03-13T20:01:47.131-05:00Donuts with Daddys Part III: I Love my Dad because he eats Corn!It has been my pleasure to go to my childrens' Donuts with Daddies events whenever possible. I told about two previous events with my eldest <a href="http://ohoopeeonline.blogspot.com/2006/03/donuts-with-daddys.html#links">here</a> and <a href="http://ohoopeeonline.blogspot.com/2007/01/donuts-with-daddys-redux.html">here</a>. With four children I have found it difficult to go to each one. I missed the twins' event recently but I still got to keep a tie and a questionnaire of each of their impressions of me. They are three and a half.<br />
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<strong>Matthew:</strong><br />
<em>What is your Dad's name?</em> Daddy<br />
<em>How old is your Dad?</em> 3<br />
<em>What color are Dad's eyes?</em> Red (me: I must be really scary)<br />
<em>Hair?</em> Orange<br />
<em>How tall is your Dad?</em> This tall [raised his hand]<br />
<em>What is Dad's favorite food?</em> Chicken<br />
<em>What is your Dad's job?</em> Teacher (me: good job)<br />
<em>Where is Dad's favorite place to go?</em> work (me: not so much)<br />
<em>What is Dad's favorite TV show?</em> football (me: he enjoyed watching football with me this fall)<br />
<em>What does Dad do around the house?</em> play, eats (me: sad but accurate)<br />
<em>What is your favorite thing to do with your Dad?</em> Watch a show<br />
<em>I love my Dad because</em> I do!<br />
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<strong>William:</strong><br />
<em>What is your Dad's name?</em> Mark (me: what?)<br />
<em>How old is your Dad?</em> 8 (me: closer than your brother's guess)<br />
<em>What color are Dad's eyes?</em> Blue (me: well done)<br />
<em>Hair?</em> Black<br />
<em>How tall is your Dad?</em> Bigger<br />
<em>What is Dad's favorite food?</em> apples (me: not so much)<br />
<em>What is your Dad's job?</em> works on computers (me: teaching involves so much mouse work these days that I have to give him credit for this one)<br />
<em>Where is Dad's favorite place to go?</em> stay home (me: I didn't know that he knew me this well)<br />
<em>What is Dad's favorite TV show?</em> movies (me: well done)<br />
<em>What does Dad do around the house?</em> plays with me; watches TV (me: true; I am glad they both said "play")<br />
<em>What is your favorite thing to do with your Dad?</em> eat carrots with him; color (me: carrots? Carrots!)<br />
<em>I love my Dad because</em> he eats corn! (me: again with the food)<br />
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I love those two boys. I am sorry I missed their day with me, but we are on a strict "don't take any days off because it is re-enrollment (and new contract) season."<br />
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I spent a day in the mountains recently. Here's a photo for your enjoyment. I may post about the adventure. I may not. <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/toln/">Check out my photos at my Flickr for more of the same</a>.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4054/4429710857_2507d83ed8_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4054/4429710857_2507d83ed8_b.jpg" vt="true" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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..._Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-52703473430289816782010-01-17T21:26:00.001-05:002010-01-17T21:26:45.656-05:00Monday Miscellany: Sufjan Stevens and My Boy turns NineI have been hearing about Sufjan Stevens for several years now. Last summer I finally bought his album <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Illinois-Sufjan-Stevens/dp/B0009R1T7M/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1263780941&sr=8-1">Come on and feel the Illinoise</a>. I wish I had listened years ago. His writing is beautiful, clever, and original. I do not think I have ever heard a song more perfect than <em>Casmir Pulaski Day</em> nor more devastating than <em>John Wayne Gacy, Jr</em>.<br />
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It has been a long, cold winter. This song touched me today. Here are the lyrics from <em>Oh, God Where are you Now?</em><br />
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Oh God hold me now.<br />
Oh Lord hold me now.<br />
There's no other man <br />
who could raise the dead.<br />
So do what you can <br />
to anoint my head.<br />
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Oh God, where are you now? <br />
Oh Lord, save somehow.<br />
The Devil is hard on my face again.<br />
The world is a hundred to one again .<br />
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Would the righteous still remain? <br />
Would my body stay the same? <br />
Oh God hold me now.<br />
Oh God touch me now.<br />
There's no other man <br />
who could save the dead<br />
There's no other garden <br />
to place our head.<br />
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Would the righteous still remain?<br />
Would my body stay the same?<br />
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There's no other man <br />
who could raise the dead <br />
So do what you can <br />
to anoint my head,<br />
Oh God hold me now. <br />
Oh Lord touch me now.<br />
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My eldest son turned nine this week. He is amazing, lovely, and more than I ever could have hoped for in an eldest son. He is smarter than his parents put together. Pray that we can be the parents that he needs.<br />
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A rather maudlin miscellany. Maybe later I shall tell you about my mini-class on films of the Cold War. Youngsters really hate black and white these days.<br />
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Peace<br />
..._Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-11070763816904765962009-11-23T20:55:00.000-05:002009-11-23T20:55:55.594-05:00Monday Miscellany: Turning Forty While Running from the Reaper40. Forty. XL. The number is biblical in its proportions. Rain for forty days and forty nights. Forty years of wandering the desert. Forty days of fasting. Forty days of lent. Everything seems to last seven or forty days or years. I don’t remember seven. Last month I turned forty. I don't feel I am allowed to play with my son's LEGO bricks anymore. Did you know that <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/40">wikipedia has an entry for the number "40?" </a><br />
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At lunch one day, I confided in one of respected elders that I had passed this serious milestone. I hoped for some aged sagacity or perhaps a hopeful cliché like, "Life begins at forty." He looked at me and grunted, "Yeah, that's when everything starts falling apart."<br />
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In February (I was only 39 at the time) I decided to take up running. My hope was to keep the grim reaper off of my heels for a few more miles. To keep me inspired I began entering 5k races. Knowing that I will be running in a race with dozens, hundreds, or thousands of other runners forces me to get out and run so that I don't embarrass myself. I still embarrass myself. I am continually passed by 78 year-old runners who are barely breathing heavily through their three teeth, pregnant women pushing strollers, and the faster of the toddlers. In my first race I was passed by a seventeen year old girl with only a tenth of a mile left before the finish line. I was breathing like Darth Vader on speed before I finally pulled my body and crushed ego across the finish line.<br />
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Most of the races are fund-raisers for local charities. Many of them have fun names. They usually give out T-Shirts, prizes, and medals for winning or placing in your age group. My first race was the Fire Ant 5k in Ashburn, GA. It is part of the big <a href="http://www.fireantfestival.com/">Fire Ant Festival</a> down there. It was a small race, and I finished the race without throwing up, suffering a major coronary event or even seeing a fire ant. I have also run the Athletes Helping Athletes 5k (for greyhound adoption) in Kennesaw, GA, a Run for the World 5k (in Rome, GA), and one down by the Chattahoochee River. After every race my son and daughter ask me if I won. I finally got a 2nd place medal for my age group in the Hog Jog of Vienna, GA. The <a href="http://www.bigpigjig.com/pdfs/hogjog.pdf">Hog Jog</a> is the kick off event for the <a href="http://www.bigpigjig.com/">Big Pig Jig</a>. I haven’t told my children that there were only two people in my age group and that the guy who got first finished twelve minutes before I did. They were very proud of me. One of my students asked if the Hog Jog was for, er, bigger runners. <br />
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I will be running the <a href="http://www.gobblejog.org/">Gobble Jog</a> on Thanksgiving morning. <br />
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I knew I had truly turned forty the other day when I walked into a Walgreens and bought a box of Preparation H from the cute little girl at the cash register without embarrassment or without trying to disguise it by buying a bunch of other stuff. <br />
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Peace<br />
..._Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-27657936149707311262009-11-04T07:57:00.000-05:002009-11-04T07:57:04.666-05:00The Builder and the Destroyer"There are three classes of man. The first and smallest class is that of the dreamer. The dreamer lives to inspire the second class. The second class is that of the builder. The builder lives to stay one brick ahead of the third and greatest class of man, the destroyer. The destroyer will not rest until there is no place left to rest."--Tiebos<br />
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There were two boys. Their homes sat opposite each other's in a typical suburban neighborhood. Both of them were strange and stood out among the typical suburban children. They found themselves mocked by the other boys of the neighborhood. In turn, they mocked each other, as they had learned that is how the game was played. In a moment of divine grace, a day came when enlightenment shone upon them, and they saw that it was their very strangeness that united them. The two boys became the best of friends.<br />
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They spent their days in collecting and building. They collected rocks, shells, coins, stamps, high scores on the Atari 2600 and Intellivision, cereal boxes, license plates, and any thing else that was collectible (and some things that were not). But their collecting was, for them, another way of building. They built cities everywhere and out of anything. They build a rock city by the mailbox, a Lego City in the basement, a domino city next to the Lego City, a Lincoln Log city in the bedroom, and a dirt city in an embankment. <br />
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The dirt city was built into a six foot, sloping embankment in one of the boy's backyard. Pine trees swayed above the boys as they used hand spades to carve out roads from the cool red clay for Hot Wheels, and caves for homes, businesses, and fire stations. Working through dusk, red mosquito welts would rise like constellations on their arms as the first stars tried futilely to replace the fading sunlight. Sticks served as lampposts, guardrails, and pillars in the spreading metropolis. One of the boys pilfered a small bucket of concrete mix from a nearby home site to pave his roads and line his caves. The other refused to use the mix because it was stolen, but secretly coveted the smooth gray streets of his friend. <br />
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One afternoon, they boys returned from school to find two large gashes like the track of twin slashing meteorites had devastated their city. The sneaker prints at the end of each gash betrayed the man-made disaster that had been wrecked upon them. Believing the damage to have been accidental, the boys threw themselves into repairing the damage. Joy welled in their hearts whenever they discovered a beloved spot that, thought destroyed, was actually preserved under the ruins. Excavations and new road-building had the city running again by dinner time.<br />
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The next day the boys found more destructive footprints. It dawned on the boys that there was no other explanation than the idea that the destruction was purposeful. The boys were hurt in their hearts and couldn't understand why another would destroy their work. But they rebuilt the city....<br />
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...to find the city destroyed again. After this, they began hiding their work every evening with pine straw, hoping that this would keep the angel of death from visiting their city. This ruse worked for a few days before, once again, the ravishing feet trampled their town.<br />
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In the now mournful silence of rebuilding, one of the boys stood up, red clay sticking to bare knees and proclaimed,<br />
"I'm done."<br />
"You're going home?"<br />
"No, I'm done with dirt city. I don't want to do it anymore."<br />
"But I love dirt city."<br />
"So do I, but I can't stand that someone keeps coming and destroying it." It hurts too much, he didn't say.<br />
"What if we built it somewhere else?"<br />
"They would find it. They would find it and destroy it."<br />
"Oh."<br />
"Its a little kid game."<br />
"No, its not!"<br />
"Let's play video games."<br />
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That fall, the pine needles settled over the broken concrete and shattered caves of dirt city and have never again been cleared away. One of the boys either grew up a little that day, or part of him died. Probably a little of both.<br />
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Peace<br />
..._Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-13472913593340383872009-11-02T08:33:00.000-05:002009-11-02T08:33:48.193-05:00In the Land of the PhilistinesIn the spring of 2007, I was faced with a terrible decision: whether or not to leave the school I had been at for the previous six years. I had already signed the "I haven't decided" box on my letter of intent to let my school know that I was exploring other options. I found out a couple of weeks later that my boss took all "I haven't decideds" as personal affronts to his authority and leadership (he is an overly zealous believer in "From Good to Great) and considered such answers as the same as "I will not be returning." He was already interviewing for my position and had found a candidate for my position. After some push back by some parents and school board members on my behalf, he sat down and actually talked to me one on one (something he had never done before). He told me that they wanted to keep me and that if the problem was money, something could be worked out. It was a very amicable conversation, and knowing that if I talked openly about my concerns about the school that I would be burning my bridges with him, I probably left him with the impression that I needed better benefits for the newly minted twin boys. In truth, I thought he was a brilliant man with a great plan, but a terrible person. He gave me a week to give him a final answer. I didn't realize until later that the deadline was actually quite flexible.<br />
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It was a Friday when that deadline came up. The week had been difficult for me. I loved the faculty and students at the school. I made a list of reasons to leave. The list was over a page long. Still I hesitated. The students had just given me a van the year before. How could I leave that? <br />
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The day of decision was a teacher workday. I could get nothing done as I agonized over the decision. I paced my classroom seeking some clear sign. Finally, I picked up a Bible. It was one of a stack of ones from lost and found that I kept in my room. At a loss for wisdom, I decided to do the blind flip. For those of you not familiar with this process, let me explain. You close your eyes and open the Bible to a random place. Then you open your eyes and read the first thing you see. I have always seen this like using the Bible as a giant Christian Ouija board and do not recommend it as genuine process of Bible study and wisdom seeking, but I was desperate and I no longer give a snobbish snort inside my head when someone confesses to doing it.<br />
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The first verse I read as a result of my blind flip was somewhere in the Old Testament. I do not remember the exact verse, but the words advised me to take up my stuff and go somewhere else. It might have been in Job or Isaiah or even in Acts. The advice was so exact that I laughed at the coincidence and did another blind flip for amusement.<br />
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The second blind flip lead me to this verse from 1 Samuel 27:<br />
<em>1 And David said in his heart, I shall now perish one day by the hand of Saul: there is nothing better for me than that I should speedily escape into the land of the Philistines; and Saul shall despair of me, to seek me any more in any coast of Israel: so shall I escape out of his hand.</em> <br />
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I laughed again but uneasily this time. I kept a thumb on that page as I did another blind flip.<br />
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The third blind flip lead me to these verses from Exodus 12:<br />
<em>30And Pharaoh rose up in the night, he, and all his servants, and all the Egyptians; and there was a great cry in Egypt; for there was not a house where there was not one dead. </em><br />
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<em>31And he called for Moses and Aaron by night, and said, Rise up, and get you forth from among my people, both ye and the children of Israel; and go, serve the LORD, as ye have said. </em><br />
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<em>32Also take your flocks and your herds, as ye have said, and be gone; and bless me also.</em><br />
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I sent my e-mail within half and hour and have never regretted it.<br />
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Peace<br />
..._Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-38972704055184309062009-10-28T09:30:00.004-04:002009-10-28T11:11:29.127-04:00Photos from Fall<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2477/4051866460_c6c880de35_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2477/4051866460_c6c880de35_b.jpg" vr="true" width="425" /></a><br />
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Above: Taken on ridgeline on side of road (281) overlooking Whitewater Falls.<br />
Below: Taken at overlook on 246/106 on way from Dillard to Highlands.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2556/4050914137_e4a96e5e99_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2556/4050914137_e4a96e5e99_b.jpg" vr="true" width="400" /></a>Above and Below: Taken at Dry Falls, NC on Highway 64 just west of Highlands, NC.<br />
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Above: Dry Falls again.<br />
Below: unknown waterfall on the highway 64 from Highlands to Franklin.<br />
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Above: Whitewater Falls, North Carolina.<br />
More at my <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/toln/">Flickr</a> page.<br />
Peace<br />
..._Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-74199922098898501672009-10-26T21:14:00.003-04:002009-10-27T08:07:25.852-04:00Monday Miscellany: Mountains EditionMy wife and I were lucky enough to get away this weekend to Highlands, North Carolina. The weather was perfect, the leaves were falling, and the waterfalls were roaring after heavy rain on Friday. Here are some quick thoughts on the trip. Hopefully, pictures will soon follow. Homecoming went very well, and pictures will soon follow of that.<br />
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Georgia waterfalls are beautiful and graceful. North Carolina waterfalls are magnificent and powerful.<br />
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While at an antique store outside of Dahlonega looking for a memento of our trip, we came upon a cheap desk that, we thought, would make a perfect desk for our eldest son. Feigning to use my professional furniture grading eye, I pulled out a drawer for inspection while my wife watched. As I lifted the drawer up to look in the bottom, I heard my wife gasp in shock and dismay from where she could see the bottom of the drawer. I couldn't see the bottom, and my heart skipped a beat as I visualized a colony of black widows or brown recluse spiders or a hidden murder weapon in my hands. I was afraid to turn over the drawer until my wife started laughing. Pasted on the underside was a photo from, we guess, a popular men's magazine of two girls by a pool sans swimming wear. We laughed for a long time. Oh, it was the only drawer so decorated; we checked the other six.<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">We visited waterfalls we had never seen before. On both mornings, we made the brief drive to the ironically named, "Dry Falls" before dawn to enjoy some solitude. The flow was so immense, powerful, and loud that leaving it felt like leaving a rock concert. The spray burst up from the rocks below in running puffs that startled us for looking so very much like leaping white ghosts in the cold morning air. While we couldn't see the sunrise from where we were, we could see the evidence of the sunrise, and that is all we sometimes need. <br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strike>There is a strip-mall in Dillard</strike> In one of the strip malls that make up the city of Dillard, Georgia there is a large antique store, a Christmas store, a general store, and an "independent" coffee shop. While my wife and I sat outside at a table sipping our hot beverages of choice, my wife asked if I had noticed the many "earth-friendly, organic, local, sustainable, etc" signs in the coffee shop. Indeed it was hard to miss the theme of the shop. Then she brilliantly observed something I had entirely missed, "Why do all the men at places like this have long hair and all of the women have short hair?" It is something to ponder on a cloudy Monday at work. The hot chocolate was excellent.<br />
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Peace<br />
..._Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-35950400008409280242009-09-02T21:01:00.001-04:002009-09-02T21:01:47.310-04:00Mid-Week Miscellany: Birthdays and WipesThe twin boys turned three a couple of weeks ago. We had a small celebration on their birthday with some cupcakes and good cheer. There is one picture of that day, not caught on camera, but one that I hope I shall never forget: W. and M. were sitting at the table waiting for their cupcakes. As I as came around the corner bearing twin candles lit over twin cakes, W.'s face swelled into what can only be described as an expression of pure joy. He rose up out of his seat smiling broadly as his hands clenched beneath his chin in spasms of happiness. He is normally the quiet and stoic one. I have never seen him happier. I write it here to remember. <br />
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When one of the boys was a babe, I don't remember which one, there was a time of weariness and much changing of diapers. My wife was away or resting, and I did something of which I am ashamed. I have never confesesed it. While changing his diaper, I reached for the wet-wipes and cleaned him up. Part of my brain was trying to tell me that something was wrong and that wipes don't normally smell so lemony, but it was an hour later that I realized that I had used Lysol disinfecting wipes. No harm was done, but I felt guilty about it for weeks after. I thought of it today as I disinfected the desks in my classroom with Lysol wipes. <br />
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Happy Birthday my boys (taken while getting ready to go to Grandma's house pizza and cake party):<br />
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Peace<br />
...-Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-68202065961486638482009-08-31T19:41:00.000-04:002009-08-31T19:41:30.474-04:00Why Are All Princesses Skinny?<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3491/3875331323_af13f3494c_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="279" lk="true" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3491/3875331323_af13f3494c_b.jpg" width="420" /></a></div><br />
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It is in the mundane, everyday moments of life that the most profound questions confront us and force us to rise above the wash, drippy spout, or untended weeds for more awesome things. The moment comes unlooked for and, generally, unasked for. They catch us unguarded, ill prepared, and distracted. It was such a moment when my six-year-old daughter skipped up to a tired, Civilization IV playing me at the computer and asked, "Why are all princesses skinny?" She was holding a diminutive plastic Jasmine figurine. The figure was in the style of the picture above which in fact shows one of Ariel's many slender sisters. While the sister above is posed much like a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model (only with less clothes), the Jasmine figure I can't currently find is much less contorted and doesn't look like she is trying touch her shoulder blades to her tail bone. Nevertheless, the Jasmine figure certainly puts the figure in figurine, if you know what I mean.<br />
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I have found that when confronted with a difficult question or one that one does not wish to answer, it is best to answer with a question. So I said:<br />
"Why do you say that?"<br />
"Because all of the princesses are skinny. Ariel, Jasmine, Cinderella, Belle...all of them are skinny."<br />
[my answer redacted out of shame]<br />
"I think they are skinny because if they were fat, no one would know they are princesses."<br />
[my answer redacted out of shame]<br />
"When I grow up I am going to get really skinny so I will look like a princess."<br />
[my answer redacted out of shame]<br />
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She is only six. It was, of course, much later that I thought of much better things to say than the pitifully weak things I did say. The incident caused me to question much of what I have been told about raising little girls. In days before TV, girls were raised to be free of vanity, so compliments were kept to a minimum. Later, the same psychologists who have given us our public school system told us that this was damaging to a developing child's self-esteem, so a plethora of compliments were encouraged to build up a girl's self-image. I fear sometimes that we have gone too far in telling all of our girls how beautiful they are. To continually do so can only make them think that the main thing we value in them is their appearance. They become vain. <br />
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The last time I was at Disney, the six princesses did a song in front of the castle. The lyrics were something to the effect, "Every girl is a princess." Every girl wants to be a princess, but I have to wonder if that is a dream to which our girls should aspire when the target that the royal ladies make is so narrow in the waist.<br />
ace<br />
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Peace<br />
...-Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-27871558688362127612009-08-24T10:25:00.002-04:002009-08-24T10:32:20.714-04:00Mondai Miscelleny: The Spelin EditonLast week I gave my students a review quiz over the fifty states. I told them that spelling would not count. That was an error. Here is a sampling of the creative spellings used by my 11<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">th</span> grade students:<br /><br /><strong>Unusual:</strong><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Whyoming</span> (hey, why not?)<br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Newbraska</span> (settled by the inhabitants of Old <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Braska</span>)<br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Utha</span><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Massachutes</span> (and scores!)<br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">Whashington</span> (from the student who knew there was an "H" but wasn't sure where)<br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">Illinoise</span> (from two students, thank you <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Illinoise-Sufjan-Stevens/dp/B0009R1T7M/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1251124210&sr=8-1"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">Sufjan</span> Stevens</a>)<br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">Illnois</span><br /><br /><strong>Common:</strong><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">Deleware</span><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">Minnisota</span><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">Minesota</span><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">Minnasota</span><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error">Conneticut</span><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">Coneticut</span><br />Main<br />Road Island<br /><br />Peace<br />...-Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-9646701981030482562009-08-21T11:25:00.002-04:002009-08-21T11:35:01.701-04:00Homecoming Themes: Erupt!<p>I am the student government sponsor at my school. We try to be creative in our planning and execution of the Homecoming Dance. Today the student body voted for their choice of theme from a ballot put together by student government. Here is the ballot we used (references to the school name have been redacted):<br /><br /><strong>Homecoming ‘09<br /></strong>><strong>Jammin’ in Jamaica :</strong> Steel drums will pace your dancing as you enjoy an exotic adventure on a Caribbean island. The spirit of Marley will oversee the festivities.<br /><strong>>Sunset on the Prairie:</strong> Load up the Conestoga wagon and hoof it on over to sprawling XXXXX Ranch where you will whirl and gambol past the tumbleweed to the sweet sounds of banjos and the lowing of cows. When the sun goes down, the prairie dogs know to hide deep in their dens because all the cowboys and cowgirls of XXXXX Ranch are about to throw the squarest western dance this side of the OK Corral.<br /><strong>>Seven Seas:</strong> Sail across the dance floor on a three hour tour while fending off waves of pirates. No ninjas will be admitted.<br /><strong>>Bow Ties and Tie-Dye:</strong> Don’t let the Man get you down; instead, relive the spirit of the Sixties as all the flower children of XXXXX turn out for a night of Peace and Understanding. If you’re going to San XXXXXisco, remember to put some flowers in your hair; you’re going to meet some gentle people there.<br /><strong>>Erupt!:</strong> Everyone thought Mount XXXXX was dormant until it blew the roof off of Homecoming ’09. Dance at the base of an erupting volcano and save your date from a pyroclastic flow. Asbestos dance wear recommended. </p><p>The runaway winner: Erupt! We now have less than two months to plan how to fit a forty foot volcano into our gymnasium. Dang it. They had to pick the toughest one.</p><p>Last year's theme was A Night at the Oasis. Read about it <a href="http://ohoopeeonline.blogspot.com/2008/11/mid-week-miscellany-i-couldnt-give-that.html">HERE</a>.</p><p>Peace</p><p>..._</p>Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-70402758544911203752009-08-10T20:33:00.009-04:002009-08-24T12:31:47.967-04:00Monday Miscellany: Back to School and Blogging EditionLast night my eight-year-old son confessed that he was feeling a wee bit antsy about the start of school. This was a big improvement from last year when I found him quietly but tragically crying in his bed because he couldn't find his stuffed elephant. His elephant was his preferred stuffed comfort. It was usually the only thing he packed to spend the night at grandma and poppa's. We hadn't seen him for a while. As I helped him search his room, I had painful flashback: it was the great group <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">ralph</span> of '08 at the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Chintzibob</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">vomitorium</span>; feverish, I had been holding a stuffed elephant, soaked to the plush grey ears with thrown-up something. There were chunks. The flashback was over. What had I done with my boy's floppy-eared friend? My only guess is that he was thrown in the rubbish bin. He has not returned, and the boy has not brought him up again.<br /><br /><br />This morning the boy awoke with full-scale chicken pox. So much for the first week of school.<br /><br /><br />The twin boys soon turn three. M is conscientious, helpful, and a budding Dr. Doolittle. Our little home has been plagued by ants for years. We have slowly become used to them. I realized that it has, perhaps, gone a bit too far when M started catching them, keeping them, and feeding them raisins. He has named the spider outside his window "John."<br /><br /><br />One night, after I had put the twins to bed, I heard M crying for me. We have reversed the locks so that we can lock them in when necessary. He likes to counter this strategy by putting his lips under the door and shouting at the top of his lungs to get our attention. He was doing this. I went upstairs to see what the problem was. I heard him as I rounded the corner, "Daddy, door not locked, I can get out!" The little guy was concerned that he was going to be tempted beyond what he could bear. There is a spiritual lesson there somewhere.<br /><br /><br />Our summer was a quiet and restful one. I took a lot of photo hikes. I took the kids to the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Tellus</span> museum (4.5 of 5 stars), the park several times, and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Amicalola</span> Falls. The daddy long legs were spawning at <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Amicalola</span> and at times the forest floor seemed to be no more than a carpet of fast-moving feet. The eldest and I went with Poppa to a Rome Braves game (also 4.5 of 5 stars). The Braves lost. There were other things. It is all a blur now. I took a group of students on a retreat. We rafted down the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">Ocoee</span>. I didn't die.<br /><br /><br />I have one the easiest teaching schedules this year that I have ever had. For the first semester I will be teaching only four classes and will only have two preps. Granted, planning Homecoming is like another class. We are leaning towards a Sixties theme.<br /><br /><br />I was working on some assignments for my AP US history class while subconsciously pondering current events. I try to keep politics from this blog so if you don't want any politics, skip what comes next and look at the cut picture at the bottom. Really, I don't want to offend you so stop now. So Nancy <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">Pelosi</span> and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">Steny</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">Hoyer</span> wrote an <a href="http://blogs.usatoday.com/oped/2009/08/unamerican-attacks-cant-derail-health-care-debate-.html">editorial</a> in which they claim that the recent boisterousness at Congressional town hall meetings, "are occurring because opponents are afraid not just of differing views--but of the facts themselves. Drowning out opposing views is simply <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">un</span>-American." While I am quite aware that the House prides itself on being the arbiter on all things <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">un</span>-American (see <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Huac"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">HUAC</span></a>), I am afraid that the two esteemed house members are ill-informed about the roots of American protest. They cite, "GASP", that someone has even made an effigy of a Congressman! One doesn't have to be much of student of the American Revolution to know that shouting, yelling, vigorous yodeling, effigies, bonfires, involuntary rail-riding, burning of stamps, soaking of tea, tarring, feathering, tarring and feathering, name-calling, lettering writing, wig-wearing, and wig-throwing were all part of the patriot protest toolbox put together by the founding fathers. The founding fathers of the United States of <em>America</em>! If anything, the old, well-heeled codgers yelling at the Congressmen are <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">unAmerican</span> in their boisterous civility. If they want to protest in a more truly American way, then they are going to have to begin scrounging the egg case and produce aisle for a few choice items past their time and begin kindling some controlled releases of carbon. UPDATE: I used the term "founding fathers with a rather broad definition. With the exception of Sam Adams, most of the be-wigged and capitalized class of Founding Fathers were a bit suspicious of the rabble/mob and tended to disparage their more <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">boisterous</span> demonstrations (like the Boston Tea Party), but I doubt many of them would have called a good effigy burning, "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">Un</span>-American" nor "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error">un</span>-English."<br /><br />In a New York court in 1733, Andrew Hamilton successfully defended John Peter Zenger from the charges of seditious libel. The case is credited with establishing a freedom of the press in colonies that was not enjoyed in the home countries. Here is the quote I wanted to share with you: "Men who injure and oppress the people under their administration provoke them to cry out and complain, and then make that very complaint the foundation for new oppressions and prosecutions" (quoted in Diane <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error">Ravitch</span> <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/American-Reader-Words-Moved-Nation/dp/0062737333/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1249955580&sr=8-1">The American Reader</a></em>). I suppose it wouldn't bother me so much if I thought that real debate is desired, but it is clear that the current government wants us all to shut up and take our government issued medicine. They promise that it is good for us.<br /><br />At the park:<br /><a title="Path by splitcat, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/toln/3810094056/"><img style="WIDTH: 423px; HEIGHT: 271px" alt="Path" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2552/3810094056_0a1fa0a207_b.jpg" width="1024" height="683" /></a><br /><br />Peace<br />...-Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-11421646941978168942009-04-20T17:36:00.008-04:002009-04-20T17:59:08.480-04:00Monday MiscellanyI am sure I am not the first parent to experience this but...while I was driving my six-year-old daughter to dance last week, I took a moment to lecture her on the importance of behaving properly while in public. She listened intently and affirmed, "That is right. We should behave that way in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Publix</span> or Kroger or Target or any store."<br /><br />When my <a href="http://consideringinconveniences.blogspot.com/2009/04/new-way-to-sleep-and-other-miscellany.html">wife told me that one of the twins fell asleep standing up</a>, I thought she was exaggerating and could not visualize the possibility. I skeptically shuffled up the stairs with my camera and stood agog and took the following pictures:<br /><br /><p>The boys are getting closer and closer to each other. The curly-headed hobbit boy fell asleep in my lap on Easter. His first words on waking up were, "Where's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Lala</span> [his word for his brother]?" I said, "Outside." He replied without hesitation, "Outside, too" and jumped off of my lap. I like how this photo suggests that they fell asleep while looking at each other.</p><br /><p><br /><a title="Twins... by splitcat, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/toln/3440116406/"><img style="WIDTH: 587px; HEIGHT: 438px" height="683" alt="Twins..." src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3614/3440116406_cf524268a5_b.jpg" width="1024" /></a></p><br /><p><a title="Twins... by splitcat, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/toln/3440073732/"><img style="WIDTH: 597px; HEIGHT: 387px" height="683" alt="Twins..." src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3386/3440073732_211e1eca58_b.jpg" width="1024" /></a></p><br /><p><a title="Twins... by splitcat, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/toln/3439280905/"><img style="WIDTH: 482px; HEIGHT: 752px" height="1024" alt="Twins..." src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3608/3439280905_8ff104cbcb_b.jpg" width="683" /></a></p><br /><p>The blond-headed Nordic boy did, in fact, say, "Knees hurt" as soon as he woke up. You can see why.</p><p>Peace</p><p>..._</p><br /><p></p>Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-39894115241235810932008-12-11T19:20:00.006-05:002008-12-11T19:49:46.980-05:00Cheese!The eldest twin loves the new camera almost as much as I do. As soon as he sees it in someone's hands, he makes a rush for the shiny lens while squealing, "Cheese!" This has made for more than a few fun shots. Here he is saying "Cheese!"<br /><br /><a title="Cheese by splitcat, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/toln/3100782377/"><img style="WIDTH: 474px; HEIGHT: 292px" height="683" alt="Cheese" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3163/3100782377_f8dbc44d75_b.jpg" width="1024" /></a><br /><br />Typically I am careful to put the camera down out of the reach of little hands, but I had just taken a few shots when my eldest son needed some homework help so I put the camera on the coffee table, confident that I would be right back to it. Minutes later I heard the eldest twin's sweet little voice calling out, "Cheese!" I was sure that I would turn around to the sight of my camera dragging along the floor with high priced pieces trailing behind it. Instead, my boy was busy composing a still life using my camera and his most priced possession, his cup. If he had known how to take off the lens cap, turn on the camera, and push the button, this is the shot he would have taken:<br /><br /><br />I took the shot for him and showed him the results. He was immensely proud of himself.<br /><a title="Twin "A's" first Photo by splitcat, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/toln/3100789227/"><img style="WIDTH: 433px; HEIGHT: 261px" height="683" alt="Twin "A's" first Photo" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3262/3100789227_bf73f91827_b.jpg" width="1024" /></a><br /><br /><br />Here is a free shot of the twins. The writing on the wall is the product of the eldest twin; whenever he finds a pencil or crayon, he can be counted upon to sneak off and color something. The younger twin (the big one on the right) always brings me crayons and pencils when he finds them so that I can put them away.<br /><br /><a title="Twins by splitcat, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/toln/3101617454/"><img style="WIDTH: 476px; HEIGHT: 307px" height="683" alt="Twins" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3013/3101617454_55e12fa67e_b.jpg" width="1024" /></a><br /><br /><br />Peace<br />..._Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-39062638946075144052008-11-19T20:49:00.007-05:002008-11-19T21:49:09.801-05:00Mid-Week Miscellany: I Couldn't Give ThatI teach at a school that attracts a predominantly white, upper-middle class student body. The school has, however, become a bit of a magnet for new Korean immigrants. I teach several of our Korean students, and their efforts to learn American English while trying to fit into a homogeneous and harsh social order has been alternately heart-breaking and humorous to observe. I try to help when I can and one of them in particular comes to me often with questions about the meaning of words and phrases. I have assured him that his eagerness to learn and willingness to ask questions will take him far. The other day he came up to me while I stood in a small crowd of students and asked, "Mr. Chintzibobs, sir, what does it mean to say 'I couldn't give a sh*t'?" It was, as they say, a teachable moment. It turns out he overheard it while listening to a group of teenage girls talking about some guy. I gave him a quick lesson on impolite words and advised him to avoid the gossip of teenage girls if he hoped to learn proper English and if he valued his sanity.<br /><br /><br />I also have a German foreign exchange student in my US history class. Should I be worried that it might be awkward to teach World War II with her in the room? Maybe I should just leave my Dr. Strangelove impression at home this year.<br /><br /><br />I don't think I ever updated my many readers concerning homecoming. The students selected as their theme:<br /><em>A Night at the Oasis: Spend an exotic evening under the stars at a Bedouin campsite; warm yourself by the fire, relax in a Bedouin tent, or whirl like a dervish on the dance floor.</em><br /><br />We spent countless hours and $4,800 on what turned out to be the best Bedouin themed homecoming ever! Here are some pictures. You can see many more over at my Flickr page.<br /><br />We built four 10' x 10' tents out of 2x4's painted a lovely shade named, "cranberry zing."<br /><br /><a title="Homecoming 2008 006 by splitcat, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/toln/2938660805/"><img style="WIDTH: 476px; HEIGHT: 378px" height="768" alt="Homecoming 2008 006" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3015/2938660805_fcc20dd564_b.jpg" width="1024" /></a><br /><br />The roofs were covered with gossamer purchased from Stumps.com.<br /><br /><a title="Homecoming 2008 007 by splitcat, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/toln/2939517688/"><img style="WIDTH: 484px; HEIGHT: 574px" height="768" alt="Homecoming 2008 007" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3225/2939517688_8fe9e20f9c_b.jpg" width="1024" /></a><br /><br />Because we only expected about 200 guests, we created a small, cozy rectangle in the middle of the gym to create a more intimate space. The rectangle was created with black polyvinyl (again from Stumps.com) stapled to wooden uprights anchored in five gallon buckets filled with concrete. We then placed one tent in each corner.<br /><br /><a title="Homecoming 2008 074e by splitcat, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/toln/2938676621/"><img style="WIDTH: 502px; HEIGHT: 457px" height="768" alt="Homecoming 2008 074e" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3031/2938676621_bf039cbe07_b.jpg" width="1024" /></a><br /><br />A dramatic lighted entryway led from an exterior door to the center:<br /><a title="Homecoming 2008 110 by splitcat, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/toln/2938696167/"><img style="WIDTH: 488px; HEIGHT: 486px" height="768" alt="Homecoming 2008 110" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3156/2938696167_fe989a5470_b.jpg" width="1024" /></a><br /><br />Each tent was decorated with unique imported Indian fabrics (purchased through E-bay), pillows (made from cloth napkins, table runners, and placemats that my wife found for a song), plants from Old Time Pottery, and rugs from Garden Ridge.<br /><br /><a title="Homecoming 2008 098 by splitcat, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/toln/2938681671/"><img style="WIDTH: 498px; HEIGHT: 378px" height="768" alt="Homecoming 2008 098" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3204/2938681671_911201c7ef_b.jpg" width="1024" /></a><br /><br />Each tent was also equipped with a faux fire (a Chauvet Bob purchased through Amazon.com).<br /><a title="Homecoming 2008 083 by splitcat, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/toln/2939519454/"><img style="WIDTH: 512px; HEIGHT: 425px" height="768" alt="Homecoming 2008 083" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3177/2939519454_74fb3c75ef_b.jpg" width="1024" /></a><br /><br />From one tent to another:<br /><a title="Homecoming 2008 113e by splitcat, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/toln/2938700279/"><img style="WIDTH: 482px; HEIGHT: 402px" height="768" alt="Homecoming 2008 113e" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3290/2938700279_d2ddc0672a_b.jpg" width="1024" /></a><br /><br />Most of the pictures were taken with the lights on; the effect was much warmer when the gym lights went down. The black polyvinyl, which has the appearance in the full light of a massive trash bag day tends to transform into a black void when the lights go off. The night ended up a great success.<br /><br />Peace<br />..._Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-10170964513910981222008-11-10T21:13:00.002-05:002008-11-10T21:15:55.370-05:00First Picture With My New Camera<a title="William by splitcat, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/toln/3021100592/"><img style="WIDTH: 469px; HEIGHT: 308px" height="683" alt="William" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3246/3021100592_055aacffe4_b.jpg" width="1024" /></a><br /><br />Peace<br />..._Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-64291116179806680892008-11-07T07:30:00.009-05:002008-12-11T20:05:45.725-05:00Track Your Shipment: A Modern-Day Torture Device UPDATED<span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>UPDATE: My camera has safely touched down in Atlanta:</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>November 7, 2008 12:01:00 PM ATLANTA GA US Arrival Scan</strong></span><br />November 7, 2008 03:16:00 AM INDIANAPOLIS IN US Departure Scan<br />November 7, 2008 02:35:00 AM INDIANAPOLIS IN US Arrival Scan<br />November 6, 2008 09:51:00 PM HODGKINS IL US Departure Scan<br />November 6, 2008 05:17:00 PM HODGKINS IL US Arrival Scan<br />November 4, 2008 12:42:00 AM SPARKS NV US Departure Scan<br />November 3, 2008 09:04:33 PM US Shipment has left seller facility and is in transit<br />November 3, 2008 07:49:00 PM SPARKS NV US Shipment received by carrier<br /><br />So, what is it?<br /><br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265892921480309938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 280px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 280px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbDqPeez4Dglg2rx-UD0uB4jp_1Hc75IEpQAdlUtXP53k5lfGlyh0COAn3DhmHZzBC0qGVX2C8i4V5pcvHSNq6LSCMc-qYAtK2nwZGJAXX5y4DGvCvRpuBO9cU_FjD1N4VXjNE/s400/canon.jpg" border="0" /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0012YA85A">Canon Digital Rebel XSi 12.2 MP Digital SLR Camera with EF-S 18-55mm f/3.5-5.6 IS Lens (Black)</a></p><p>I guessI deserve the cross-country tour for selecting free super-saver shipping. And yes, I do track my shipment on average about every two hours. Happy birthday to me.</p><p>Peace </p><p>..._</p><p><br /></p>Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-72119040878275690302008-11-05T20:39:00.009-05:002008-11-05T21:07:48.636-05:00Wednesday Miscellany: George Washington is Dead<em>Yesterday:</em><br />Five year old girl to daddy: "Why do Aarrack Obama and John McCain want to be president?"<br /><br />Daddy: "Well, that is a good question. I don't know. Hopefully, they want to serve the country well."<br /><br />Five year old girl: "I think it is because George Washington died and someone has to take his place."<br /><br /><br /><em>In car from church fall festival to Aunt's house for party on Halloween:</em><br />Daddy: "Wow! Look at all of the trick-or-treaters."<br /><br />Seven year old boy: "Daddy, when will we get to go trick-or-treating?"<br /><br />Daddy: "We'll see."<br /><br />Seven year old boy: "I hope it is soon because I am ready to see some new faces."<br /><br /><em>Five year old girl on the ferris wheel with Daddy (both for their first time):</em><br /><br /><a title="October 2008 016cr by splitcat, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/toln/2993196002/"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 241px" height="598" alt="October 2008 016cr" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3165/2993196002_667545ff7c_b.jpg" width="1024" /></a><br /><br /><br />Notes:<br />The boy and girl did get to go trick-or-treating; they had a grand time. George Washington was one of the few presidents who never did want the job; William Howard Taft was another. Teddy Roosevelt reportedly offered to make him a Supreme Court justice or his chosen successor as president. Taft chose justice. Taft's wife chose president. Taft's wife won. His presidency was challenging and unsatisfactory. Years later he would live his dream as chief justice of the Supreme Court. It is not a typo: my daughter cannot say the "B" in Barack's name.<br /><br />Peace<br />..._Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13911792.post-10366493325865112042008-08-29T12:37:00.004-04:002008-08-29T20:07:39.529-04:00Homecoming ThemesMy life over the next eights weeks will be taken over by planning for Homecoming '08! The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">exclamation</span> point is to let you know that I am supposed to be excited about this. As student government advisor, it is my job to supervise some twenty students in the planning and production of homecoming week. That includes homecoming week festivities, homecoming pep rally, court and queen presentation at halftime on Friday, and the homecoming dance on Saturday night. Last year's homecoming almost killed me and had me questioning and cursing every aspect of the American educational establishment. There is something deeply ironic about a man who has attended only one dance in is life (and that only because it was required by the school) having responsibility for planning a dance. Last year's dance ended up a huge success, and it was a great way for me to get to know the students at my new school. True, one almost killed me when a large chunk of two-by-four kicked up from his circular saw, just missing my head, and jammed into a wooden fence twenty feet away. The dent in the fence is a daily reminder my brush with death. Later, the same student gashed his hand with a knife and left a trail of blood across the gym floor. No stitches were needed, and no lawyers were called.<br /><br />This year could be fun. It will certainly be less stressful. Today my students put together the final ballot of homecoming themes for distribution on Tuesday morning. Once the student body votes on the theme, the real work will begin. I am quite proud of the creativity of this set of students; they have a deep desire to avoid ordering dance-in-box from Stumps.com while creating a unique dance atmosphere. Here is the ballot (I have deleted the school name for the usual reasons):<br /><br /><div align="left"><strong>Homecoming ‘08</strong><br />1. A Night at the Oasis: Spend an exotic evening under the stars at a Bedouin campsite; warm yourself by the fire, relax in a Bedouin tent, or whirl like a dervish on the dance floor.<br />2. Winter Wonderland: Winter comes early this year as snow falls on [school name]; think Narnia without the creepy goat man.<br />3. Bright Lights/Big City: Experience a night downtown among the lights of the towering architectural wonders of New [school name] City.<br />4. In the Jungle: Jaguars frolic in the undergrowth as macaws and howler monkeys screech in the canopy above; Join Expedition [school name] as they celebrate the discovery of the headwaters of Bobs Creek.<br />5. Welcome to Area 51: The mysteries of Roswell, NM are revealed for the first time as a UFO crash site becomes the launching pad for the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">rockingest</span> party this side of Sagittarius.</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">I am personally hoping for #1 or #5. </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Peace</div><div align="left">..._</div>Splitcat Chintzibobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07818656084000155234noreply@blogger.com0