Legalization of Marijuana: The Philosophy is Different Than What People Think ...

I can't seem to get away from the discussion on legalizing marijuana.  It's on the news, it's on Facebook, it's in casual conversations.  Everyone seems to want to weigh in on this one, yet I can't fully understand why.  I've come to the conclusion that the only people who are going to win on this one are the sociologists.

Realistically, marijuana is less harmful than either alcohol or tobacco, both of which are legal (if heavily regulated).  Using the "it's dangerous" argument is just illogical, unless you're willing to explore making booze and butts illegal.  That whole "gateway drug" theory has long since been disproven.  

So why is it such a big deal?

My theory is that people just like to have something to complain about.  

No, seriously, hear me out.  

I think the idea that pot is this big, bad drug has been pretty much taken off the table.  According to an article I read on WMUR this morning, 60% of New Hampshire taxpayers are in favor of "legal, taxable marijuana sold by licensed stores for recreational use".

The barriers have been eroding for some time, and the legalization of medical marijuana has effectively shown that it's not really that big a deal.

True story ... a man was dying of lung cancer, and chemotherapy was wreaking havoc on his appetite.  His wife was told by the doctor that marijuana therapy would probably help him gain weight, but unfortunately it was illegal in New Hampshire.  His wife was tearfully sharing this with her daughters, and it was quickly pointed out to her that they could run over to UNH and have marijuana for him in about twenty minutes.

So, yeah, it has been moving slowly toward legalization.  The stigma has largely disappeared.  Pot smoking is no longer associated with certain negative stereotypes.

And yet the hold up continues.

Right now, the vocal majority are united in the whole "Let's legalize it" cry.  People from all walks of life are joined against the government, either by speaking out publicly or through regular tokes in the privacy of their homes.  These voices run the gamut of rich and poor, of educated and uneducated, of urban and rural.  In the battle against the government vis a vis legalization of pot, there is a strange equality that has come forth.

As soon as pot is legal for recreational use (and make no mistake, it will be), that unity is going to crumble.

Watching this unfold is a sociologist's dream, really ...

Republicans are going to start slamming Democrats about how this is just one more thing the government is trying to control.  Democrats are going to try to make pot taxes exorbitantly high to finance some sort of social issue du jour.  The wealthy are going to complain about taxes on pot.  The poor are going to complain about taxes on pot.

The same people that sell untaxed cigarettes and alcohol are going to get in on the action afforded by marijuana.  Cops are going to be paid off to overlook the difference between the legal ounce and possession of two or three ounces.  Crooked politicians are going to finance underground pot farms and receive kickbacks from illegal sales.

It's going to be a giant clusterfuck, in other words.

This sounds awful, but I am kind of looking forward to it, just because it will be interesting.  

I have no vested interest in marijuana being legal.  I mean, my own personal relationship with cannabis has ended; high school and college were ages ago.  I feel like it should be legal because there is no compelling reason for it not to be, but it doesn't really matter that much to me.  The truth is, if I wanted to get my hands on pot, it would be easy; however, if pot was legal, I would have no interest in buying any.  That ship has sailed for me.  When I am at social gatherings when bowls are passed, I choose to say no, yet I have no issue with those that choose to say yes.  (This is an awkward paragraph, yet I feel like it needs to be included)     

I am reminded of that old adage, "Be careful what you wish for."  I think, in the case of legalization of pot, it's going to lead to another saying ... "May you live in interesting times." 

I think we will be.

Can You Ever Really Know Another Person ... And Does it Even Matter?

I've come to the conclusion that, when I'm having trouble sleeping, it's far more beneficial to find something to occupy my time and attention than complaining about not being able to sleep (I do that, too, sometimes, although I've definitely gotten better).

Anyway, last night was a "Facebook-surfing-to-occupy-my-time" way to deal with insomnia (rather than reading or watching TV or whatever), and I found myself intrigued by the following picture I found on my friend Jen's Facebook wall.

I put it on my own wall immediately because I was curious to see how many people knew these things about me, then I went back and filled it out for Jen (I did pretty well, by the way ... only missed numbers 5, 9, and 11).  Nobody has really bitten in terms of filling it out for me, other than a friend opining that "You either possess or partake in all of the above.  It is official, I am omniscient", and that's all well and good.

Honestly, it's not like knowing my favorite candy or my shoe size really means that a person truly knows me. In fact, I would argue that the people most likely to answer these questions correctly in terms of me probably know me less well.

There are people that might not know that Barq's root beer is my favorite soda and I wear a size 8.5 shoe but are aware of the basic gist of my nightmares, who know what my dreams and hopes and flaws and passions are.  I suspect that those people know me a bit better than someone able to look at a couple of pictures and deduce that my natural hair color is brown.

I know, by the way, that this little Facebook game was meant to be silly fun.  I even took it that way (I identified Jen's favorite soda as "Coke (especially with rum ;-))", which was her right answer).

It's just that it got me thinking about the deeper question of whether or not you can ever truly know someone else, and even more so whether or not that even matters.

One of my students asked me recently (shortly after we finished reading John Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men, in fact) a question that totally blew my mind: "If everybody changes, can you ever truly know another person?"

This young man, a freshman in high school, stymied me with this concept, something I think he was pretty proud of (I am rarely at a loss for words).  He was also fairly incessant about asking me for my insight, refusing to take "I really don't know how to answer that" as an excuse (I cannot imagine where he learned that from ;-)).

Anyway, I finally told him that there's an old saying about how there are three different kinds of friends--friends for a reason, friends for a season, and friends for life.  I explained that this pretty much went along with his question because, if everybody changes, then you either stop being friends with someone as and/or after they change, that you change yourself as a result of his/her change, or that you are able to roll with the punches and accept that both you and other people are going to change but that, if the person is worth it to you, it won't matter in the great scheme of things.  Basically, you can know another person as much as you need to depending on the situation and taking into account the necessary depth (a family member or close friend would obviously be more complex than an acquaintance, for example).

If you're thinking to yourself, "Geez, Katie, that sounds like a deflection", you're right.  It was.  My student didn't realize it--he was just excited as hell that he'd made me think in a way that was challenging for me--but it was.

So, why deflect?

The truth is, I do not believe you can ever truly know another human being, no matter how much you might think you do or want to.

I thought I knew many and varied friends, family members, and colleagues who suddenly and with neither warning nor reason given essentially disappeared emotionally.

I thought I knew my ex-husband, but the person he hid behind a facade of good humor and gentleness was always buried there; I am actually grateful that the wine brought the monster within forward, because I've come to know that it was always there, that it's there still.

I thought I knew my onetime best friend Andy, and his response to arguably the worst thing that ever happened to me just about destroyed my self-esteem, self-love, and feelings of self-worth.

But I guess the bottom line--and the piece that is very uncomfortable to think about--is that if it is true to consider these things about other people, than you really need to look in the mirror and consider whether they're true about you as well.

And I think they are.  I think they have to be.  Nobody is without sin, error, or general screw-ups.  To quote REM, "Everybody hurts sometimes", but to take it a step further, everybody hurts others sometimes.  It is sometimes completely unintentional and almost always done without malicious intent, but that doesn't change the reality that the biggest danger to the psyche of a human being is another human being, frequently one that you care deeply about.

But that's kind of a negative thing to say to a kid, so I kept my mouth shut and let the old proverb rule the day.

Seeing that pic on Facebook reminded me of my thinking on the subject, though, so I figured I'd share and, as always, ask for your input.

To end on a positive note, I do want to emphasize that I believe most people are primarily good.  The pain they give others is largely accidental, or else tied to a stupid error of judgment.  Speaking for myself, I just wish the love I feel in my heart for so many people could keep any unintentional, stupid spikes of pain from reaching out and hurting others.

I would do anything in the world to help another person, and anybody that knows me is aware that this is true.  But is that dedication to helping others the bottom line of my existence?  Does it wipe out my numerous faults?

So my own bottom line is this: no, you cannot ever really know another person, and no, it really doesn't matter because all human hearts have dark shadows within them, crevices that can hopefully be overcome by love and caring.

What scares me the most, though, is that it is easy enough to look at others, to pass judgment, to know them as well as you can and love and appreciate them for that, hopefully being strong enough to overlook the darkness that lurks under the surface if you do not want to write a person off entirely.

It's turning that magnifying glass inward that is frightening ... but perhaps even more necessary.  
       

Blogging About Life: Hard or Necessary?

One of my students, a gifted young lady with great writing talent and a true passion for picking up on the philosophy in the everyday mundaneness of life, wants to start a blog about the minutiae of what she sees around her every day.

Does anybody have any suggestions for her?  I'm sending her the link to this post, so she will definitely be reading your comments.

Thank you in advance <3 nbsp="nbsp">

Are Heroes Necessary ... Or Not?

I frame the classes I teach in terms of an overarching "essential question" ... in other words, a question with no clear-cut answer intended to get my students thinking.  The literature we read, writing assignments we undertake, and pretty much everything that we explore in class can be tied back to that question, leading to higher order thinking on the part of students that is often just completely mind-blowing.

The essential question for my English 10 class is, "What does it mean to be a hero?" and, while it seems simple on the surface, the kids have already proven that it's possible to take it to intense philosophical depths.

The class had a seminar discussion focused on their initial understandings shortly after school started then had to write a reflection based on our whole-class conversation.

One of my students, an incredibly deep thinker who forces me to think in directions that are way beyond "out of the box" on a regular basis, asked for extended time as he grappled with articulating his thoughts on paper.  I was happy to accommodate his request as his ideas are always so original and thought-provoking.

This paper was no exception.

I was so impressed, in fact, that I talked to him about "publication" so that his contemplation on what it means to be a hero could be shared with a wider audience.  He was very excited about the idea, so I am posting his paper here in its entirety in the hopes that you will comment extensively on his points and an online discussion can transpire.  People from all over the world could potentially read, think about, and respond to his thoughts and reflections ... for this student, this would be unspeakably exciting.

And selfishly, I'm very curious to see what others think about it ... I know that it certainly raised my own concept of heroism to a new plateau.

The following was written by a sophomore in high school; while I've fixed spelling and grammar errors, the content is 100% his.  Please weigh in, as this is a kid who thrives on thinking ... being the impetus for an in-depth conversation beyond the classroom would be exciting and extremely valuable for him.

Thank you in advance :-)
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The discussion really opened my eyes up to what the rest of the world sees as heroes.  Some people think of heroes as an idiot who dresses up in tights and flies around the city, other minds go straight to military personnel as well as policemen and firefighters.  Perhaps the most common definition of a hero is someone you look up to.

I used to disagree with the thought of heroes, and this is why.  There are a few things that everyone knows.

1.  As a person, we always want to be better.

2.  No one is perfect.

So it seemed to make sense that heroes are just a way to get let down, and why would I set my sights at anything less than perfect?  If "perfect" is where I wanted to be ...  I figured following a hero is just the blind leading the blind, thinking they're not lost.

As I thought more, I decided I was right, no doubts, but I couldn't leave it at that.  If I wasn't going to look up to a person, what was I going to do?

Some people use religion.  They follow their God, much like a hero (e.g., "What would Jesus do?"), and this can act as their motivation and be used to set goals as a replacement to a hero.

I thought about this, too, and this didn't seem to work, either.  It seems as a way to label the world is out of my control.  Even if this is striving for perfection, I know I can only be as big as I will let myself be.

So still with no ideas what or who to look up to, who I wanted to be like, et cetera, I kept thinking, and I came across a thought.  A BIG thought.  I was looking in the wrong spot.  I shouldn't be looking up, I should be looking in.  

As wrong and unorthodox as it seems, with this idea everything seemed to make sense.  I'll be my own hero.  Instead of looking up to another person, I look up to the person I can (and will) become instead of saying, "I want to grow up and be like him."  I say, when I grow up, I just want to be me, the best me I can be.

This idea just works for me.  It uses no labels and no limits.  It gives room for infinite potential, and I know I won't have to worry about being too like anybody else.

In the end, if you think you need a hero, you're dead wrong, and if you still think heroes fly around in tights, I feel bad for you.

Honestly, I don't care what anybody thinks after reading this because I found my hero, and it's ...
*  my imagination
*  my inner self
*  and my future
rolled into one good thought.

Rereading Books--Do You or Don't You?

I am an avid rereader of books, and I find myself having to explain why on a fairly regular basis in a variety of settings and situations.

I don't know why the concept of rereading is so foreign to some people.  I can't imagine just reading a book once, and saying, "That was cool" or, "That really got me thinking" or, "I am so appalled at this piece of garbage I can't understand how it's on the freaking best-seller list when I can't get my book published", or whatever.

The only argument I can think of against rereading a book, in fact, is the reality that there are so many books out there and only a limited amount of time.

But I am a dork.  I don't just read books, I live them.  I allow them to change my life, my philosophies, my beliefs, and my outlook on things.  Many of my books are in execrable condition, in fact, because I fall asleep on them, write in them, and occasionally throw them against the wall (yes, Stephen King, it's true ... I should have heeded your advice toward the end of the final Dark Tower book and just stopped when you warned me to).

I also learned how to read at a freakishly young age.  I read Cujo as a first grader, and as you can imagine, the book is rather different as a teen or an adult.  I can remember picking up a copy of The Thorn Birds at my family's beach house when summer when I was eight or nine (I'd read pretty much every other book there by then) and loving the writing, the history, the characters, but knowing somehow that I was missing the point.  There are some points you just can't get when you haven't reached puberty.

I've also found that books are very different to me based on where I am at in my own life.

I have read this book over 200 times.  I also teach it.

I was a child when I first read To Kill a Mockingbird, and so I identified with Scout.  I was a tomboy.  My father was a lawyer, and not just a lawyer but one that was occasionally involved in cases that touched him on a moral basis.  I was a tomboy with an older brother.  And so on.

As I grew older, though, I read Harper Lee's masterpiece through many, many lenses.  When I became a teacher and realized the cruelty that some kids are raised with, my heart ached for Boo Radley and the Ewell children.  Coming to the whole "the universe works" conclusion about life, dealing with rape on a personal level, recognizing that there are truly evil people in the world, understanding that change comes through a lot of hard work and bitterness over the course of time ... TKAM was always there for me.

And then there's the enrichment that TKAM gave me in terms of other works of literature.  I loved Joe R. Lansdale's The Bottoms (and strongly recommend it if you haven't read it), but I would not have appreciated it the same way if not for Lee's work.  My Truman Capote phase was far cooler because I just thought of him as Dill.

It's not just Harper Lee and, of course, Stephen King (whose Dark Tower series completely altered my belief system).

Simply put, there are almost no books I've only read once ... and I've read an awful lot of books.

So how about you?  Do you reread?  Are you a selective rereader (in other words, are there some books you'll tackle more than once, but it's not the norm)?  Or are you of the ilk that reads a book once and calls it good?

I don't judge any approaches, by the way ... I'm just curious about where the wider world stands on the issue (I know my family, friends, and students think I'm kind of bizarre regarding books).

Guest Post: Modern-Day Alice in Wonderland?

This guest post was written by my friend and colleague Denise Mason.  In another life, Denise would have been a scientist because she is brilliant and insightful and remarkable; instead, Denise was, like me, a victim of the period of time when smart kids with learning disabilities weren't exactly encouraged to excel.  As a result (and fortunately for the kids in my school), Denise became a teacher--and if you ever want to know how to be a rigorous, "fun" teacher who blows things up (in a safe and controlled manner) and somehow gets students to think for themselves, figuring out their own solutions to student-generated problems, talk to Denise--she's one of the best.  

Incidentally, I had to force Denise to write this.  She has writing phobia because her writing got slammed her entire life.  I've told her repeatedly that her spelling and grammar is pretty rough but her ideas are wonderful and her voice is strong.  It's confidence she lacks.


As K-Lo knows, I am a science geek to the core. I am fascinated by science and how we can use our reasoning to understand the world. I also have a slight philosophical leaning and always wonder about our higher purpose and how we as individuals fit into any master plan for the universe.

I’ve been home sick, so I was watching the documentary "What the #$"! Do we Know!?" I decided to watch it because I had been pondering a recent post by Katie on artistic genius. The purpose of the documentary was to bring science, spirituality, and philosophy together to understand how we influence our world rather than a higher being controlling us, so it fight right in with what was already on my mind.

The documentary started off by delving into recent theories in quantum physics. The premise is mind blowing! It suggests that our perceptions of reality might not be real. What we perceive to be solid is mostly empty and what we see as being in one place may be in fact in two. They compare our perceptions to holograms. It then went on to discuss how this is then supported by how our brains actually work, which leads to the ultimate idea that our very thoughts could create our reality.

An especially mind-blowing scene was a discussion about the work of Dr. Masaru Emoto and his research on water molecules. His well known books, Messages from Water -Vols. I, II, and III, demonstrate that by humans thinking positive thoughts, water would form beautiful snowflake pattern crystals when frozen but, when thoughts turned negative, it formed a sloppy, indistinct mess.

Just imagine the impact of our thoughts on humans (which are 90% water) and on the earth (which is made up of 70% water)!. So if our thoughts can determine water patterns, imagine the power of humanities' thoughts on the world!

In other words, how we think about our world ultimately determines our reality. If you wake up thinking it will be a bad day, it will. If you consciously plan to have a great day and fulfill your hopes and dreams, you will. Visualize the collective power of human consciousness.

The movie as a whole was incredibly thought-provoking! It challenges our perceptions about the universe and our role in it. I can’t say I agree with everything it said; what I can say, though, is that it makes me want to be more mindful of my thoughts and actions to lead a more positive life.

The documentary ends with the thought provoking question “So, Alice, how far do you want to go down the rabbit hole?”

Speaking for myself, I find that I'm already at the bottom wondering, "Do I drink the potion or not?"

Guest Post: An Object of Miscellany

Well, ask and you shall receive :-)  I have been soliciting guest posts as a means of getting conversations moving in new and fascinating directions, and I've already gotten two.  Yay!  This post is written by Kenny Martin, who possess wisdom far beyond his years (we've had some very philosophical conversations via Facebook).  I'm going to respond to Kenny's post below it, but Kenny and I would both to hear your thoughts on this.  Oh, and keep the guest posts rolling in ... I'm feeling very re-energized :-)

Those against whom the fractiously tailored lives have gone, those who have been bequeathed without regard or piety, megrims, have another fault to lay blame upon aside from self. 

The genomic convolution and, by extension, the scientific methodologies at large have been partitioned as another of the archetypical points upon which the generation of the current day can relinquish both their hopes and their fears. 

There is a new absolution, and it is not contrived from spiritualism nor worship but from logicalities and concreteness. 

However, what, if anything, could be derived from this whether it be rooted in maleficence or benignity? 

The answer, I feel, is a drastic although not inevitable paradigm shift during which we choose between the subjective outlooks and the objective doctrines thereby conforming to one as a whole. However, people are not invariant, but to gauge the societal model as a whole would be the proving grounds as to acquiesce with which one reigns as the predominant model as of late. 

To speak with brevity, I will offer but one question: to which do you adhere and where does the populous as a whole reside?
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(It's me--Katie--again).

I was having a very similar discussion with a group of English teachers last week ... the idea of fate vs. free will, but when you add science into it, it brings a whole different dimension.

So can you blame your genetic makeup for how your life turns out?  Is that any different than blaming any sort of higher power you might believe in?  Different from saying, "Everyone's an asshole but me, and the world is out to get me?"

I, for one, don't think so.

It's funny, we were discussing "Fate" and "Free Will" on a 1-10 scale (in terms of whose fault it was that Oedipus wound up with the fate he did), and I fell much closer to the "Fate" end than most people ... but I believe strongly in free will as well (in other words, there are some things you just can't do a damn thing about, but how you handle events like death or natural disasters or the stock market or whatever is completely and totally up to you).

When you add in the gene factor, I don't think my mindset would be much different.  

You're handed a hand of cards in life ... how you play them is up to you.  If you are genetically predisposed to alcoholism, for example, it doesn't guarantee that you'll be an alcoholic.  If your genes call you to dark places, you can still choose to search for the sun (or take medication).  

I am also, as someone incapable of adding two digit numbers without using my fingers and only made it through the science-based parts of my schooling because my sister grew up to have a PhD in a field of biology, doubtful of "logicalities and concreteness".  I mean, it was "proven" at one point that the world was flat.  Thalidomide was given the scientific world's seal of approval.  And so on.  

So I don't think that the greater world is going to be surprised by any sort of scientific explanation for human behavior.  I'd even go so far as to say it won't change a thing, except possibly increasing the entitlement complex that permeates our culture.

I go back to alcoholism.  I don't mean to sound insensitive, but that "It's a disease" line only goes so far.  When you lie about everything, when you bully the crap out of the one person that has made Herculean efforts to salvage your relationship with your child despite your best efforts to self-sabotage, when you blame everybody else about the situation that you put yourself in, when you refuse to take treatment seriously (such as claiming to be on the "making amends" steps when in reality you haven't admitted to yourself that someone as freaking God-like as you could *possibly* be an alcoholic) ... you know, grow a set, man up, and get over yourself.  There is alcoholism in my genes as well (a lot, actually ... damn Irish ;-)), and I've managed to avoid it; somehow I've been able to take responsibility for my life and mistakes instead of drinking myself into a stupor to avoid reality (and then lying about drinking myself into a stupor to further avoid reality) ... well, I guess this rant should probably end because the point has been made.  

One of my best friends has a life slogan: "PMA (Positive Mental Attitude)".  That is how I try to live my life (I do fail epically at times, although I've gotten much better).  I think that mindset is much stronger than any sort of scientific propensities.

Mourning the Loss of Stephen King's "Rage"

When you throw a rock into the ocean, it creates ripples.  If you skim it, a skill my brother Adam possesses like you can't imagine (he gets eight or ten skips on a single rock sometimes), there are lots of small, fast indentations in the water.  

If you heave a huge boulder in, the splash--and possible impacts--are larger.

Both rock-skipping and boulder-hurling are kind of cool to look at, to contemplate, to consider the possible effects on the oceanic ecosystem beneath.

Which leads me to Stephen King's short novel Rage, which he wrote as his malevolent pseudonym, Richard Bachman ... and which is now out of print at his request.

I read Rage a long time ago, and rereading it had been on my agenda literally for years, but it was one of those things I never got around to doing.  Then, it was out of print--the other works in that omnibus known as The Bachman Books--The Long Walk, Roadwork, and The Running Man--have been republished as individual books under King's own moniker, but Rage was slightly more elusive.

I was over at Henry's a few weeks ago, and he was going through his vast collection of books (one of the things that I love about Henry is that he might possibly own more books than I do, a feat which takes skill).  My urge to read Rage returned and, when I mentioned it, Henry whipped out a copy of The Bachman Books.

Needless to say, I was pretty pumped.

If you don't know the basic premise to Rage, it involves a clearly disturbed high school senior named Charlie Decker who takes his Algebra II class hostage, killing two teachers in the process and keeping his classmates subdued (at least at first ...) with the gun he smuggled in.  

Yeah, it's disturbing.  Yeah, I get why King felt some guilt following the association of the book with a number of school shootings, most notably the 1997 shooting at Kentucky's Heath High School when senior Michael Carneal fired a .22 pistol at a youth prayer group, killing three girls and injuring five others.  A copy of Rage was apparently found in Carneal's locker.

Here's the thing, though ...

There are some deranged people out there.  A lot of them.  You can blame music, video games, books, Ted Bundy even infamously blamed porn for his murderous streak ... but it only goes so far.

I can't imagine that I'm making some sort of  negative judgment on Stephen King, who I think is pretty much one of the most amazing human beings on the planet, but ... well, yeah.

Because Rage is an incredible book.

King will go down in history as a literary master of characterization.  He doesn't pull punches, which is one of the reasons he's such a genius.  His characters are not always nice people, and they always--ALWAYS--have flaws.  They're real, people we can all imagine knowing in reality.

Yeah, Charlie Decker is off his rocker.  

However, he didn't get there by accident.  

His abusive father, who mistreated him physically throughout his childhood and went after him with a hatchet with murderous intent, who made a comment on a hunting trip that Charlie overheard about cutting off his mother's nose if he ever caught her with another man, unquestionably played a role.

As did his mother, who took him into her sewing room and comforted him with hot chocolate to mitigate his father throwing him to the ground with all his strength after he broke a bunch of storm windows (which seemed like a good idea to a three-year-old Charlie), who forced him to wear a formal suit to the birthday party of a girl he was crushing on because she wanted to make a good impression on the young lady's mother.

And let's not forget the science teacher that Charlie almost killed with a socket wrench shortly before the hostage-taking incident.  Yeah, that's the teacher that forced Charlie to the blackboard to solve a complicated chemical equation then yelled at the young man repeatedly when he couldn't get it right, who berated him in front of the class ...

Charlie had just returned to school following his suspension for the horrible beating which nearly resulted in the death of the science teacher when the events of the story begin.

Now, I'm not defending Charlie Decker, nor am I trying to portray him in any sort of heroic terms.  The kid was totally off the deep end.

However, consider the life lessons inherent in the totally unhealthy relationships between Charlie and his parents, the reminder of how valuable sensitivity is for teachers, not to mention others in positions of power.  It's ... well, just striking.

I was also stricken almost to the point of tears at moments of beauty that showed through very early in the book.

A girl I didn't know passed me on the second-floor landing, a pimply, ugly girl wearing big horn-rimmed glasses and carrying a clutch of secretarial-type books.  On impulse I turned around and looked after her.  Yes; yes.  From the back she might have been Miss America.  It was wonderful.

Tell me that's not brilliant writing, a truly remarkable sentiment that can really make you think about things differently.  The book is full of gems like that, and it's a shame that the stigma that surrounds school shootings has taken away a work of literature that contains not just brilliant writing but also an in-depth look into a disturbed mind and seeing that, like all of us, it is still capable of seeing good in the world.

I don't want to spoil the story overmuch, but the gist is that Charlie somehow gets his classmates to spill their souls, to come to terms with their own personal demons in the public forum he's somehow created inside the classroom he's co-opted.  Surely his ability to make a safe environment for his classmates while holding a gun--albeit loosely--on them is amazing.  

Obviously, there's more than a bit of Stockholm Syndrome alluded to throughout the course of the novel, not to mention Charlie gaining the upper hand in figures of authority ranging from school officials to the police getting him hard-core points with this classmates.

Consider these stories, though, that come to light in a kind of warped impromptu group therapy session that springs up while the body of a teacher goes into rigor mortis on the floor ...

* A girl publicly admits that her mother is a whore ... and she loves her in spite of it.

* A young man nicknamed "Pig Pen" shares the pain of being raised by a coupon-clipping cheapskate whose penny-pinching proclivities contribute to his one new shirt a year ... and hence his nickname

* The quintessential "nice girl" losing her virginity to the Big Man On Campus, finding it wasn't all it was cracked up to be, and making it right by hooking up with a dirty, dangerous hoodlum at a local roller skating rink

And so on.

Issues for the ages, seriously.  These were worthy of conversation when the book was originally published in 1977 (when, by the way, I was not even a year old), and they are still relevant today ... perhaps even more so when you put the very fact of their longevity into the conversation.

Even the induced breakdown of the aforementioned BMOC by his classmates is an opportunity for discussions of huge portent by a huge population, young and old alike--this is a bridge-gapper if I've ever seen one ... and, as a high school English teacher, I've seen a lot.

I love books, which any regular reader of this blog knows.  I love to lose myself in books, and I love to discuss them.  If those discussions were kept to "safe" topics, it would be limiting.  

The best conversations are never based in mundane topics.  

You talk about why the Komen Foundation tried to stop their annual $600,000 donation to Planned Parenthood that was used exclusively for breast cancer screening just because 8% of Planned Parenthood's overall service involve abortions.  You talk about the banning of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn or To Kill a Mockingbird .  You debate the so-called Ground Zero Mosque.  

I mean, that's how you learn.  That's how you grow.  If all of my friends agreed with everything I say, I'd be pretty bored.  

And that's how I feel about books.  The best books are the ones that bring out a visceral reaction in me, ones that make me think and want to engage in discourse with others to explore the human condition.

Rage was a perfect book for opening up the doors to conversations that are in the "let's not talk about it" zone, and that makes me both sad and scared.

As a final note, Marilyn Manson was interviewed by Michael Moore during filming of Bowling for Columbine.  Manson, who was tangentially blamed for influencing the unspeakable actions of Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, had this to say when asked what he would say to the Columbine kids and community if given the chance.

"I wouldn't say a single word to them--I would listen to what they have to say, and that's what no one did." 

Conversations about school shootings are a veritable minefield, and I don't envy artists ranging from Marilyn Manson to Stephen King for feeling the pain.

I just think it's a shame that the opportunities afforded by Rage have been taken off the table ... because not talking about it, not thinking about it, avoiding the fact that there are potential Charlie Deckers in schools all over the country is definitely a step backward.

A Communist Plot? Crazy How Thought-Provoking Jokes Can Be ...

This has been the summer of educational conferences, which of course I knew when signing on the proverbial dotted line ... and I can honestly say that I will be a better teacher next year because of all the professional development work I've done this summer.

A lot of times, particularly in my early years of teaching, I found professional development stuff to be pretty much a good opportunity to zone out, to count dots on ceiling tiles, to plan units and lessons completely unrelated to the topic at hand, and so on.

But the absolute highlight of my summer professional development work happened this week when I ended up partnered with my colleague and friend Bob, who is kind of like my big brother at work.

I wore a red and white striped shirt to a schoolwide assembly last year, and he had the whole school calling me Waldo.  I scratch my nose with my middle finger when he walks into a room.  He's a trip.

I also taught his daughter 9th Grade English and am on a committee with his wife, so I do know a more serious side of Bob, but that was not what was memorable this week.

So we're told by the training facilitator to choose a controversial subject that we can argue one side of and then get together with a partner.

Yeah, I ended up with Bob.

Anyway, the directions were for one person to present their case while their partner listened and, after a set amount of time, the listener had to ask "probing, open-ended questions" that did not give away his or her personal feelings or opinions on the subject.

I talked about a New Hampshire Senate Bill currently under discussion which would expand the use of excessive force.  I'd just read an article about it, and I found myself really interested.  Surprisingly, Bob asked some good questions and made me think quickly on my feet (he later told me he agreed with me that, particularly when you consider the chaos that the word "bullying" has led to in schools, this is a can of worms it would be best to avoid), and that was good.

And then it was Bob's turn.

He argued that line dancing should be outlawed in America because it is a communist plot intended to take over the world.

Yeah, it took me a few minutes to stop laughing, but when I really listened to what he was saying, it was amazing how well he could fit it into the paradigm of communism.  I can't remember his exact arguments because I was trying really hard not to roll around on the floor in helpless guffaws, but it was priceless.

And that is what I love about the possibilities of contemplation coming up in so many different places.

Clearly, Bob was joking, and when he stated his position with a completely straight face, I was laughing so hard I was crying.

However, the scary thing was that he was able to make a very valid, logical, well-thought out argument in support of his (albeit absurd) thesis.

So while it made for a good laugh, it reminded me that you can learn a lot from the absurd, the ridiculous, and, perhaps most importantly, people you disagree with.

It's all about the thinking.  It always is :-)

Anyone Want to Be a Guest Blogger? Read for Details ...

I've noticed a lot of "guest blogging" going on lately, and I figured I'd try out the idea.

Somehow, my blog has accumulated over 200 followers (thank you all so much <3), which is pretty exciting.  What I was thinking would be even more exciting is for an occasional guest post, which will allow me to participate in discussions that don't originate with me.

I started this blog to share my thoughts on the world and on the philosophy that exists in everyday life.  It's become more (my aspiring writing career, motherhood and other details of my personal life, and the field of education are all directions I hadn't planned on going in but somehow have), but that's still my underlying goal.

If you'd like to write a guest post on a topic that generates thought and discussion, please let me know.  I'm not picky about specifics beyond getting people to think and talk about the different directions capable of moving by the human brain.

Send me an e-mail with "Guest Blogger" in the subject line or leave a comment here with questions or queries (heh heh ;-)), and let's get this thing cracking.

I look forward to hearing from you ... and to moving this blog forward in new and interesting directions.

<3 KL

Nostalgia for Literary Analysis Via MTV

I was not what one would have called an intellectually curious child.  I read all the time, of course, but my taste in literature was not exactly scholarly.  I read books that entertained me, that resonated with me, and the fact that there are ties that bind many and varied works of literature together was a concept that was well beyond me.

As an adult, I remembered how much I loved Lloyd Alexander's Chronicles of Prydain, so I reread them ... and then explored Welsh mythology touched upon in Alexander's series through works such as The Mabinogion.  I found myself fascinated with the nature of evil after reading Helter Skelter: The True Story of the Manson Murders, and consequently read not just other books about Charles Manson but exploring the dark side of human nature in many, many literary works.

I was thinking a lot about this when I was driving home from another day at summer school today, though.  Why is the message that books can do a lot more than entertain, inform, educate, or persuade you so elusive?  It's a struggle to get a lot of kids to read anything period, and opening their minds to the connections that exist, the places your mind can go if you follow the individualized road maps each person is provided with any time they read something ...

And then I remembered that I'd been no different myself.

Except it hit me like a ton of bricks that I had been.  I'd found a passion for learning, for coming up with my own questions and doing my own research and discussions and such that, somewhat ironically considering what a voracious reader I was from a very young age, came from a most unusual place--MTV.

I haven't watched MTV in a very long time.  Once it got all reality show-heavy and music-light, I didn't see any point.  However, a large portion of my childhood was spent chilling with my siblings in the TV room watching music videos, contemplating them, discussing them, arguing over their meaning, and asking questions.  Big questions.

There are three music videos that jumped to mind when I realized the tremendous thought and springboard for further reading, research, and reflection that MTV provided me with.

1.  Pearl Jam's "Jeremy" 

I still say today that this video is an artistic masterpiece, with the interspersion of words, newspaper clippings, and other images into the story of a troubled young boy who eventually commits suicide in front of his class at school.  

Aesthetic value aside, though, I can vividly remember writing down the Bible passages referenced in the song, looking them up, and discussing their meaning with my sister.  In fact, I'm pretty sure the first time I read the Bible cover to cover was a direct result of how interesting it was to see how relevant it was in terms of Pearl Jam's song ... so what else, my lazy brain admitted, might be contained within its pages?

There were also a lot of rumors circling about lead singer Eddie Vedder going to school with a student who killed himself and the controversy over such a violent video (who ever thought a gun would be in a school?).  So much to think about ...

2.  Guns N' Roses' "November Rain" 

If my school was any indication, there were scores of lunchtable conversation based around what happened to the girl in the "November Rain" video.  I mean, I can remember debating the fate of the fictional bride portrayed by Stephanie Seymour for months ... and with many different circles of friends.

One day, when I was watching the music video for what was probably the 300th time, it occurred to me that I could actually read the short story mentioned at the end of the video, "Without You" by Del James.  I did ... it helped a lot.

I should also note that, while I was always in Honors and Advanced Placement English classes, I learned more about symbolism from this music video than I ever did in a high school classroom.

3.  Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire"

My sister and I spent hours writing down the lyrics to this song, trying to figure out what the dude was saying. We're talking hours, and I'm not exaggerating.  My poor parents, who we brought our list to and asked to help us out (we'd literally jotted down on notebook paper "Nasser ran for coffee" instead of "Nasser and Prokofiev" and, even more egregious, "something about 'blue balls'" instead of "Dien Bien Phu falls"), did the best they could.

I don't know about my sister (we're two and a half years apart in age, so we were either best friends or completely hated each other ... and it could change on a dime; while I remember writing down our phonetic list and trying to get corrections and explanations from my history buff stepdad, I seem to recall going through the Encyclopedia Britannica set on my own), but I know what every single event, person, and place mentioned in that song is about.

I even understand the point Billy Joel was making and how each of the historical and/or pop culture words were part of a bigger story that fit into the bigger idea of the not-always-positive nature of human beings.

I just turned on MTV, and there wasn't music playing.  I'm not surprised, but I am nostalgic for the days when MTV didn't just play music but made me think ... and far more than I realized.

The Strange Google Searches That Have Led People to My Blog

The internet has opened up endless opportunities for connections between things. Personally, I think this is a good thing. When you get right down to it, thinking and growing is all about making those connections, about realizing how everything you do kind of intersects with everything else into your own unique mosaic.

However, sometimes it's very entertaining. I've been playing around with some of the features on Blogger, and the highlight was unquestionably seeing the Google searches that have led people to my blog.

Evidently, my attempts at finding philosophy in everyday life, of sharing my journeys as a teacher and a writer, of delving deeper than I may have intended to into my personal life ... my blog of which I am very proud ... well, it evidently all boils down to this.

“people who complain about the weather”
Yeah, okay, I talk about complaining about the weather. I even complain about the weather. Evidently more than I knew ;) I certainly wouldn't have picked it as a driving force on this blog, but there you go.

“claudia kishi's mom”
This one comes up in response to a comment posted on a piece I wrote on a local book-banning controversy. Too funny!

“christa mcauliffe technology conference”
This is a big conference for teachers in New Hampshire, actually, and I had the great honor of attending it last year. I still think it's just bizarre how a Google search for this conference ends up at my blog. Wild!

“herb hantz”
This one is really far out. I wrote a post about teachers that make a difference, and there were a lot of comments that gave the name of an inspiring educator. Herb Hantz was one of those so honored in the comments section. Small world ...

“rettop yrrah”
I got the urge to reread the Harry Potter series one day, but I couldn't find the first couple of books to save my life. HP7 was taunting me from the bookshelf, though, so I ended up reading the books in reverse order ... very cool experience. I thought I'd be clever and original by writing "Harry Potter" backwards in the blog title ... hmm, not so much, I guess.

“’apples to apples game’ philosophical”
If you haven't ever played the game Apples to Apples, you really must. I don't know that I'd term it "philosophical", but it's tons of fun.

“dark heart care bears”
So I was watching one of the old Care Bears movies with Belle, and I suddenly realized all the religious references found in the film and felt compelled to write a post about it. Interestingly, these are the search words that most commonly get hits to my blog. It's just ... mind-boggling.

“do you think scarlett o hara is immature for marriage”
I love the character of Scarlett O'Hara in Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind, so it's only natural that I explored her characterization on this blog. Whether or not she's too immature for marriage? Once again, I think Google might have misinterpreted a thing or two here, but it's all good.

I hope you got a laugh or two out of this ... some of the things that led people to this blog really cracked me up :-)

Why Would Anyone Sell Seashells By the Seashore?

Kids amaze me sometimes. Like, seriously blow my mind.

We were talking about alliteration the other day, and of course one student volunteered, "She sells seashells by the seashore" as an example. At this point, one of my students, one who doesn't often offer his opinion on things, raised his hand.

Thrilled to see him interacting with the class material, I called on him.

"Ms. Loud, why would anybody sell seashells by the seashore? It just doesn't make any sense."

I now call him my great philosopher ... and offer out his question to you.

Thoughts?

Cool Places to Hit on the Interwebs

I love (lovelovelove) reading blogs and sites that are many and varied, that work my mind and touch my heartstrings. Sometimes I connect on a visceral level, sometimes I disagree very much with the content but appreciate the different point of view, sometimes I'm overcome with beauty, and sometimes I appreciate the writing advice.

If I listed every place I visited on a regular basis, this post would be waaaaaaaaaaay too long. Therefore, I'm going to link to and explain a small sampling ... and I plan on doing this regularly to share the love (and thinking ... and beauty ... and so on).

These are places that I find memorable. There are many (many, many, many) other places that will be listed on subsequent posts. Check them out if you get a chance ... thinking is always a good thing :-)

365 Days of Weird Happenings
This is one of the most original sites I've seen in a long time. Anthonyox10 writes about odd things he sees, in life or on the interwebs, and shares with his readers. His take on the world is unique, and he's got a great eye for seeing the unusual. Lots of interesting stuff!

insert witty anecdote [here].
Before Sarah Taylor-Spangenberg became my boss :-), she was my friend (she still is ... LOVE that lady). This is the blog where I found her in my early days here on Blogger, and it's an amazing collection. She's recently started reposting here, and both her newest post and the older stuff there is worth a look.

Zelda Lily
Okay, perhaps I'm a bit biased because I write here, but this site has such a lot of really great stuff. Operating under the assumption that feminism doesn't have to be militant but can be embraced on a modern level through legitimate equality, there's a ton of current events as the commenters and writers alike work toward a definition of what feminism is in 2011. Amazing stuff!

mrs.nesbitt's space
Denise is amazing. Let me just say this--these are the words she puts at the top of her blog, and it explains far better than I could as to what the bottom line of her site is: "The happiest people don't have the best of everything, theyjust make the best of everything they have."

Got any very cool recommendations? Leave links in the comments ... I know that I, for one, would love to find some further cool places to visit and think about : )

Five Things I Have Recently Learned

1. Water is Extremely Important.
So we just got our water back on this afternoon. Evidently the underground hose/pipe thing had a crack in it and, when half of the side yard was being dug up as they made this discovery, it turns out our well was evidently not up to code, so that had to be remedied as well. I never realized all of the things you need water for … it’s not just if you’re thirsty or something. I mean, I’m just about out of clean underwear, and my children were peeing in cups and dumping them outside. It was crazy!
The yard:

The picture Andy texted me to rag me about the waterless situation:










2. It’s Not That That Hard to Change Brakes.
When I bought my car, I knew it would need the brakes replaced sooner rather than later. The dealership was pretty upfront about it, and replacing brakes is something Andy can do pretty easily so, considering the price cut on the car, it seemed like a good idea. Anyway, they got very squeaky a few weeks ago, so it turned out to be sooner. We did the brakes in Andy’s driveway, and I felt like pretty hot shit because I actually HELPED :-) I felt so non-girly!
My dirty hands (after removing one of the tires):

Andy fixing my brakes:










3. Catching up With Old Friends is So Much Fun!
One of my friends from high school is a hairdresser in L.A. She was in the area for Father’s Day, so she organized a mini-reunion. It was so much fun catching up with everyone! The coolest part was that none of the people that went were among my close high school friends, but we had a blast. I was in the hospital on a morphine drip during my ten year reunion, so I missed out on the “what the hell has everyone been up to?” thing. This kind of made up for it. Oh, and those Mango Martinis at Blue Latitudes … they are freaking amazing!











4. Some People Are Just Not Nice.
I don’t talk smack about my co-workers, but suffice it to say that one of them had me in tears a couple of days ago. Now, I admit that I cry easily, but what I’ve always loved so much about the school I work at is how nice everyone has always been—the kiddos, the staff, even the administration. There is now a person that is jealous or threatened or something, but anyway, it’s freaking harassment. I’m trying to come to terms with it and try to figure out the best way to move forward. Yuck!



5. The World is So Beautiful.
This is the most well-placed (and best timed) rainbow I’ve ever seen. It reminded me of what is really important, and so I’m sharing it with you.

10 Things

Carrie over at 2 Girls 2 Dogs 2 Cats posted a "10 Things" list, so I figured I'd jump on the bandwagon. I always enjoy reading these ... and I actually really enjoy writing them as well :-) Consider yourself tagged, if you want to make your own "10 Things" list ... leave a link to your blog in the comments.

I was going to just make a list of 10 random things, but I decided instead to list songs that make me think about things. It seems more interesting than "1. I have two dogs; 2. My favorite foods are cheeseburgers, lobster, and pizza" and so on. Not that I would have anyway, but ...

1. "My Own Worst Enemy" (Lit)
I've come to the conclusion that it is human nature to be your own worst enemy. Colleen McCullough ends The Thorn Birds, "The bird with a thorn in its breast, it follows an immutable law; it is driven by it knows not what to impale itself, and die singing. At the very instant the thorn enters there is no awareness in it of the dying to come; it simply sings and sings until there is not the life left to utter another note. But we, when we put the thorns in our breasts, we know. We understand. And still we do it. Still we do it." That says it all. (And, of course, there are many times I want to say, "Can we forget about the things I said when I was drunk?")

2. "Forgiven" (Alanis Morissette)
The concept of forgiveness is one I have long struggled with. Perhaps it's because of my Catholic upbringing, perhaps it's because I have much to atone for. I ponder sometimes on if forgiveness is even possible. I mean, no matter how much good you do, the bad is always there. There's nothing you can do about it, and there will always be a part of you that is being consumed by guilt ... and people to throw it in your face when you're least expecting it. Life is strange that way.

3. "Another Brick in the Wall" (Pink Floyd)
It's funny, the more we as a society claim to be moving toward creating individuals and embracing the unique characteristics everyone brings to the game, the more this song rings true. I find myself all the time conforming and doing things I don't necessarily want to do and saying things I disagree with because it's just easier than trying to be true to myself and having to deal with the consequences of that. I think that, back when there was a standard pat expectation of people, they were more likely to rise above it (or go to either side of it); now, there is this constant state of unspoken conformity that is all the worse because we try to say that the converse is true. It's strange. (Note--I think my iPod has a great sense of humor since this song seems to shuffle on more than any other just as I'm driving into the parking lot of the school I work at ;-)).

4. "Sometimes Love Just Ain't Enough" (Patti Smyth/Don Henley)
You can love somebody to pieces and have them tell you that they feel the same way (and definitely have them act like they love you), but at some point you just have to realize that you're in different places. Books and movies might say otherwise, but "sometimes love just ain't enough."

5. "Tick Tock" (Ke$ha)
It's funny how time gets away from you. I am thirty-three, not exactly old, but my partying days are unquestionably behind me. I kind of wish this song had come out fifteen years ago, because I really like it. I could totally have related to it in my heyday. That said, it makes me very nervous because I worry about my daughters and about my students in terms of the sentiments raised here. I also question the veracity of a society where a song like this is so widespread; I mean, Belle knows the chorus to this song (thanks so much, Addie), and I'm pretty strict with my kids.

6. "The Boxer" (Simon and Garfunkel)
If you were to look at my high school yearbook, the quote I chose to accompany my senior picture is, "In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade, and he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him till he cried out in his anger and his shame, 'I am leaving, I am leaving' but the fighter still remains." We are all in a fight with life, in a way. We are all going to get brought to our knees sometimes. We are all going to have times when we rise triumphant. And, ultimately, we are all going to lose.

7. "Yellow Ledbetter" (Pearl Jam)
There is something about a song with lyrics that are almost impossible to understand. It makes you listen a little harder, makes you pay a bit more attention. And to continue the boxing metaphor from number six, "I don't know whether I'm the boxer or the bag" is a sentiment I think we can all relate to in some way, shape, or form.

8. "Imagine" (John Lennon)
I spend much of my life dreaming, a great deal of time hoping. There is so much evil in the world, and there's just no need of it. I mean, we all bleed, we all hurt, we all smile. It would be so nice if everyone could just get on the same page and look at the big picture.

9. "What's my Age Again?" (Blink 182)
There isn't an adult alive that doesn't, at times, act like a five-year-old. It's kind of unfortunate, but it's pretty much human nature to be selfish and stupid sometimes. This song is so much fun (Am I the only person that yells, "I said I was the cops and your husband's in jail--this state looks down on sodomy" when this comes on?), but there's actually a lot to think about here even though, on the surface, it's kind of a fun and sort of dumb song.

10. "The City of New Orleans" (Arlo Guthrie)
Okay, confession time--I cannot hear this song without crying like a baby. It was one of my stepdad's favorites, and I can hear his voice singing it (hopelessly off-tune, natch) whenever the song is even mentioned. The cyclical nature of virtually everything, the rise and fall of empires and trains ... it's mind-blowing. Just mind-blowing.

Knowing the Minds and Hearts of Others

I seem to attract people with a tendency to avoid sharing their minds and hearts. The old adage claims that actions speak louder than words, but sometimes you just need to hear the words.

Sometimes you just want to know what exactly is going on in the minds and, perhaps more importantly, hearts of other people.

Or would this be a mixed blessing? A blessed curse? Please let me know what you think ...

Lightbulbs and Stories

I caught up with a student I had last semester in my Poetry class today in the lobby during my prep period. His growth as a poet over the course of half a year was nothing short of remarkable, particularly in terms of developing his own style and themes. He's working on moving on the next step artistically now--changing up styles and themes.

He told me that he is trying to write a series of poems set up as short stories. He has the imagination and the vocabulary to really make an impact, which is cool ... and it's even cooler that he's challenging himself. Coolest of all, though, is the increase in confidence this kid is demonstrating.

"I want to write about a light bulb," he said.

I looked at him quizzically. "A light bulb?"

"Well, about a guy who wakes up one morning and sees a light bulb. It sort of makes him ..."

"See the light?"

He laughed. "Yeah, pretty much. You know, it's interesting about light bulbs."

"How so?"

"Well, if you turn a light bulb on, it means one thing metaphorically and if you turn it off, it means something else." He paused. "But then, if you think about it, it could mean the exact opposite. Both on and off."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I said, "You should write a story about Thomas Edison and the invention of the light bulb. And use the word 'illumination.'"

"Nah, I've already used the word 'illumination' in a lot of my poems."

"That's true."

"And I think I'd rather try to write a story about a guy who wakes up and sees a lightbulb and starts going in those metaphoric directions. Not that Thomas Edison isn't interesting," he added quickly.

"Well, make sure you let me read it when you're done," I said.

He smiled. "I'm sure you'll be reading it before it's done."

As he went to class, it occurred to me the true value of a teacher. Honestly, this kid and his classmates taught me more about writing poetry than I ever taught them, and yet they give me so much credit ... and for what?

It's just a matter of believing in them, of giving them the time and space and support to find their own voices. Some kids never do, of course, but when it does work out, it is just one of the most amazing feelings in the world : )

Home from Skiing (And You'd Better Believe There are Videos!)

We just got back from skiing. I have to wake up at 5:30 to go back to work. Yeah, I think we'll let the videos speak for themselves (pretty much : )). Oh, and I sound like a LOSER on video ... I never realized that before.

Before we left ... we have Andy being disgusting (actually, the video was shot just after he was being disgusting)



And we have a bunch of kids VERY excited at the prospect of going skiing : )



And then the skiing begins ... Here are the little kids in their lesson.



And then, of course, there was our attempt to get the big girls getting off the bunny slope and onto some real trails with their snowboards. Epic fail, as Addie would say (but that's a story for another day).



And there are a hundred other cute kid videos (and even one of me videotaping while skiing, which is kind of cool), but I sound beyond ridiculous and I fall, so let's end with Andy being disgusting, just for consistency. (Disclaimer: all six kids were in a lesson when we imbibed the beverage depicted in this video).



So there's no philosophical insight on this one ... unless you count a great day of fun a philosophy of a sort. Yeah, I pretty much do :)

Prufrockin': To Shake the Status Quo or ...

T.S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" has always stood out to me, I'm not sure why. I think it's mostly because of the end, where Eliot writes, "I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each/I do not think that they will sing to me"; ever since reading that, I have always listened for mermaids at the beach. Although I know it's kind of stupid and I know intellectually it's not possible, I believe in my heart and soul that there could be mermaids, a whole world down there in the depths of the ocean--that is the part of me that is a writer.

More academically--and more traditionally, I suppose--"Prufrock" has, to me, served as a warning to eschew mediocrity, to be brave enough to eat a peach and to never, ever be one of those women coming and going, talking of Michelangelo instead of creating their own magic. In other words, the status quo should never be good enough.

Perhaps this is the part of the poem that scares me most:
"No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous,
Almost, at times, the Fool."

The thing is, I had sworn my life over to mediocrity for a very long time. I had essentially surrendered myself into the role of an "attendant lord", going about my life in a mundane way, letting someone else call the shots and suppressing the part of myself that looks at stars and wonders why my dogs turn around three times before going to sleep and whether global warming is legit and if we all see the same shade of red when we look at an apple and ... well, you know, the part of myself that was ME.

And I have that part back now. With the help of destiny in the form of alcoholism that shattered my marriage and blew up my world, I have somehow found myself again. There is magic in my life now, tremendous magic, but I am so scared that it's an ephemeral thing, that I am just an attendant lord again, just not to a mentally ill alcoholic husband. The rational part of me says, "Nope, you can feel the magic, you are yourself again, just go with it," but the part of me that needs to know where things stand is yelling, "Be Prince Hamlet, damn it! Shake up the status quo. Live a little--if you don't make the conversation happen, you'll just exist in this vacuum until ..."

Until WHAT, Prince Hamlet part of my brain? Until what?

And then I read the last lines of Eliot's poem, about contemplating on taking that chance, of living a little, "until human voices wake us and we drown." Isn't what I have now better than that?

If you read this blog with any regularity, you can probably figure out what I'm talking about. If you don't, that's okay too ... it's a pretty universal concept, I think. So my question to you, wonderful readers, is this: is it better to just live your life, enjoying a status quo which is pretty decent, or do you shoot for the stars, take destiny into your own hands and put everything you currently have going for you at risk?