Mickey Z
Cool Observer
Saturday, December 17, 2005
“I suppose you think you could teach this class"
Good Morning, Mickey. I like your “archaeologist” story. When I was in school, I was once asked what I wanted to be when I grew up. My answer was, “epistemologist”. When my daughter was in second grade it became apparent that she should be advanced. The school administration had an “expert” meet with her. During the conversation between little Christine and the “expert” he asked her why she liked to read books. She looked him square in the eye and said that it was because she got vicarious enjoyment when she read. She skipped 3rd grade and also 12th grade...........I have always believed that education was too important to be left to the schools.
Posted by RMJ on from Churchill 4 Prez Hdqts 12/17 at 09:35 AMGood morning, Rosemarie. How’s the weather today up in Vermont? It’s sunny and mild in NYC.
They tried to skip me in my early days of school, too...but my wise mother refused. She knew I was not mature enough to be dumped in with kids 2-3 years older than me. So, I stayed with my grade and sometimes drove the teachers batty. Interestingly, since I was in grades 7-12 from 1973-78, I had some younger, cooler teachers who came out of the 60s and had something different to offer.
Captcha word says: mind.
Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 12/17 at 09:44 AMMickey, the weather is not too bad up here today. Yesterday everything was falling from the sky. I am glad that it has stopped because I have a 200 foot drainage ditch that must be kept cleared at all times. .....Back to the school topic… When I was in high school geometry was my favorite subject. One day I found a mistake in the text book. The teacher, who was one of my favorites, argued with me so we contacted the publisher. Turned out that I was right and later editions of the text book were corrected. Recently I have done a little reading about fractal geometry. I guess that I am glad to not be in school now. My brain would hurt.
Posted by RMJ on from Churchill 4 Prez Hdqts 12/17 at 09:59 AMRMJ, my brain hurts just thinking about it. I did well in Math because I have such a good memory...not because I “got it.” Same for my Spanish classes. My “strength” was what they called “reading comprehension.” Also, of course, I like to write. I was the rare student who always chose the essay question when given the option.
Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 12/17 at 10:12 AMOh yes beautiful high school. I always asked the teachers why I’m going to need to know this in life or when am I going to use this class in life. Having a very nerdy sister go through school before me did not help much. Every teacher figured I was a clone of her and expected blindless conformity. Needless to say I never applied myself and it drove teachers and my parents crazy. For some reason math came easy for me, so it would piss off the nerds who studied like mad to obtain an A while I did nothing but ask teacher practical uses of pre-calculus in life. My sister now does statistics for the census bureau and almost when insane in higher level math classes. Meanwhile I’m taking calculus after a 6 year hiatus and pulling a B+ without doing any homework. Maybe I’m gifted. As far as ever wanting to be anything I always wanted to do the least amount of work in life. This really disturbed my teachers. They could never comprehend how someone could not care of making the most money in life. I guess the only truthful answer I gave to the answer was a comedian and someday it might happen. I wrote a routine once, but before I could ever perform it I was introduced to Bill Hicks and I thought to myself somebody has already done this material before.
Posted by Rich on from Buffalo 12/17 at 11:57 AMRich, you just reminded me of my first day in high school after having gone to Catholic school for the first 8 years. I had an impressive 6 ft 3 inch brother who was 2 years ahead of me in school. On the first day of high school I was sitting in an English class when the teacher asked me if I was Jake’s sister. I very politely answered, “Yes, sir.” When the “sir” came out of my mouth, all of the other kids in the room burst into laughter. I instantly realized that there was a big cultural difference between “public” school kids and Catholic school kids. I never said the word “sir” again until I was in the Air Force.
Posted by RMJ on from Churchill 4 Prez Hdqts 12/17 at 12:13 PMDear Mickey,
You reference once again your wikipedia entry. Do tell what exactly is so factually wrong about it.
James
Posted by James Gildenforth on from 12/17 at 12:19 PMRich, speaking as a professional reader, someone always done everything before. If that stopped people from writing, we’d have no movies, TV, or books of any sort. Be a comedian, if that’s what makes you happy, because you’ll be amazed at how much work it is doing something you love and how little you care about that.
RMJ, geometry was the only logical-thinking class I ever liked becuase it was taught by a teacher...still teaching today, same classroom in the same school, 31 years later!...who loved geometry and conveyed his love for it to his (stoned, indfferent) students. I made my ony honestly earned geometric, algebraic or statistical B in that class.
MZ, an archaeologist...? I went to school to be an historian and an anthropologist (physical, not cultural). Knowing where it comes from is more important to me than the minutiae of where it is now or might go in future. I am to this day just terribly afflicted with shyness...oh who am I kidding?! I was aloof, and still am, but shy? Nope. I bore easily, and found the peers I didn’t want to uhhh conquer deeply uninteresting.
My friends tell me they think of me as lonely, because I don’t really have that deep and delicious sense of being with someone who completely “gets” me that most of them say they have. “For a while,” is my cynical rejoinder...as many weddings as I’ve attended, I’ve attended two fewer divorces. Two. Out of DOZENS. (Didn’t go to your wedding, y’all don’t count in this anecdote.)
But in actual factual truth, being alone doesn’t equal being lonely. Even while Punkin and I were making our year-plus journey together, I wasn’t less alone so much as well-laid and alone.
Truth is, we’re all of us alone, always and in every way. Companions are delightful! They’re invaluable for reality checks, for sharing of wonders, for enhancing the sense we all have of being alive and alert on Planet Earth.
But it’s an illusion, because at base, our perceptions cannot be shared by those not us. We can attempt to convey these perceptions, but it’s only an attempt and whatever success it has, the storyteller has no idea. And can’t. We are unique, each of us, and so incapable of complete understanding of the position, the feelings, the needs of another person.
And lest that sound grim or depressing as a viewpoint, here’s the payoff for me, personally: It means I can never be bored. I can try and I can try and I can try to wrap my mind around a story EXACTLY AS THE STORYTELLER EMITTED IT and never get there...but in the process, I learn so much about everyting else that I am exhilarated for hours.
So thanks for sharing your stories, each and all. Never worry that they’re boring, because they can’t ever be. (So Rich, when’s that tour start?)
Posted by Mudge on from Dear, dead Austin 12/17 at 12:25 PMRosemarie, I never used the word “sir” until I went into the Air Force and my sister was 2 years ahead of me. Some friends thought the military would teach me discipline, but they were wrong. I was still a smart ass. Thinking back to school and the military, no matter how out of line I got, I never received any harsh punishment besides detention or a verbal reprimand.
Posted by Rich on from Buffalo 12/17 at 12:29 PMI was writing while you were posting Mudge. I’m not sure, but it will happen someday. Currently I’ve been playing guitar a lot, so maybe I’ll be a singing comedian. I’m outta here for the day. I worked all night and its now bed time.
Posted by Rich on from Buffalo 12/17 at 12:43 PMI´ve never considered myself intelligent or intellectual (yeah,yeah insert pun here..!) and have no problems with such people except those who thought they were and weren´t.
They also usually thought they were next big thing in radical thought when they usually were just obedient conformists and usually they were a drag,always preaching to the already converted and quoting Marx.
Later in life you saw them drop the politics at the same time they quit school and soon enough become the most active bootlicker in their workplace.
I´m not saying that´s cool to be a obstinate troublemaker but it´s to be a decent human being with integrity and compassion,they weren´t neither.Your schooldays were sometimes fun,sometimes exciting,sometimes cool and sometimes mindnumbingly boring as in life in general I guess?
I´ve always prefered to study or get interested in things on my own though instead of being a student somewhere and that´s not because I dislike their education or people there,it´s rather that you wanna engage and hopefully learn something on your own terms and doing it in freer(?) forms.Posted by The poster formerly known as "Old Glen". on from 12/17 at 12:58 PMOkay, I have a school story, too. When I was in seventh grade, some really awful crap was going on at home. I was depressed to the point I slept 20hrs/day for five weeks. (The school was wondering where I was, or I guess my mother would’ve just let it go on.) I was shipped off to a shrink, who told me explicitly what she thought was going on, and I denied it forcefully (she was a woman, can’t trust women). She was right, of course. But since I refused to cop to it, she heaved a big sigh and said, “Look at your options...sleep and illness, or involvement and health. Get busy at school!”
That sounded better than the gray fog of depression to me, so I got busy at school. In Texas in 1971 we had to take a year of Texas history, so we’d know it before American history started; to counterbalance the parochial bias of that edict, we also had to take a concurrent year of world geography.
Meat and drink to me! I’d spent my waking hours reading the Encyclopedia Britannica (1911 edition and 1943 edition) that we had in the house. I love maps. Connect the dots. What I knew of Texas history was colorful and inaccurate, courtesy of my mother the Texan, but was way cool so I figured that class was gonna be cool too.
Oh ha ha. Both of those classes were taught to me by a woman that I can only describe as Baron Harkonnen’s fat, ugly sister. For those who haven’t read or seen Dune, think of that objectionable picture of the Governator used so as to indicate his moral turpitude, multiply the body mass by three, extend then man-boobs to be the entire circumfrence of the barrel and initial shelf of back-fat, and put it in a muu-muu...that was Mrs. “Famousgeneral.”
Her size is relevant to the story, as is her choice of garb, so shuddup.
When I made it back to school second semester of 7th grade, Mrs. “Famousgeneral” was my first and second period teacher. She was inclined toweards sarcasm as her punishment for being late, and would generally pick on the lateest peson into class for the entire period. David O’Mary was in that class, and always late, and never prepared, and generally dumb as a box of rocks but not as pretty. He was a thorn in my side, always nasty and abusive to me about being queer, often in front of teachers who never said shit to him (or my other tormentors) about it. I ignored it, since I thought then that these were people I’d never want to deal with socially, so why deal with them now?
David came in very very late one day, reeking of smoke, and got what-for from Mrs. “Famousgeneral” for at least five minutes. He was standing in front of the class, being humiliated by having to take questions from the class about Texas history.
I was in my glory! I asked him questions I couldn’t answer today about stuff I’ve forgotten happened. When he couldn’t answer, I answered and got five points added to my final grade. (Six questions, thirty points, final grade 141 outr of 100.)
Furious at being baited, he yelled at me, “Yeah, you’ll think it’s funny when you’re sucking my cock!” Mrs. “Famousgeneral” was stunned into silence. She spluttered some, and levered herself up from her desk chair in preparation to hitting David. I said, “But David, we go to the same gym class...how will I ever FIND it?”
Mrs. “Famousgeneral” collapsed back into her desk chair, which collapsed entirely in protest, and the class was howling right along with her. David slunk out of class. I went to help Mrs. “Famousgeneral” and discovered that, in her fall, she’d torn the entire front of her muu-muu along the seam. She was still laughing, and held her hands up to me to be lifted...I complied, and was truly staggered as I felt her weight pulling at me as I stood as still as I could. She held her dress together, said to the class, “Be good, I’ll be right back, and treated us to the sight of her bra as she left the room.
I never faced David again, he was mysteriously not in any class I was in and, when I saw him around the school, was curiously quiet...until high school, a wholly different matter.
But Mrs. “Famousgeneral” was ever afterward giving me set-up lines and laughing when I took the bait. Her classes were unspeakably poorly taught, but I forgave her; since I knew what she was teaching before I got there, I didn’t care about how interesting or boring the class was. I liked being the center of attention.
Posted by Mudge on from Dear, dead Austin 12/17 at 01:09 PMI had a whole entry typed out and made a typo in the captcha. This is so annoying!
A few extra “letters” is all, and it won’t take one back to the entry!! Grrrr.Posted by Mudge on from Dear, dead Austin 12/17 at 01:49 PMHey everyone-- you guys are the best, thanks for the support, am off to visit Frank the Auto-Free Super Kitty now, will update later-- in meantime, have fun checking this out. Someone made a James Langergaard action figure. The resemblance is uncanny:
http://tinyurl.com/4pp5uAnd for the benefit of Hawkman and any else who hasn’t seen it before:
http://homepage.mac.com/trorb/iMovieTheater81.htmlHaha, “charge”, which is what I’ll have to do with Frank’s vet bill.
Posted by James on from Hell's Kitchen 12/17 at 02:06 PMhi all
haven’t read thru previous yet but will later on…
that vonnegut quote reminded me of the brendan behan quote… “i have never seen a situation so dismal that a policeman couln’t make it worse”
Posted by michael on from scotland 12/17 at 02:30 PMHi All - Fun conversations and stories here today. Thank you all.
James - I’m sending the psychic equivalent of a fistful of catnip to Frank… hope he’s well. He’ll probably look groggy and pissed, but hopeful that you’ll take him home. Best of luck to you two, today.Mickey, I’ve got an old “Three Tenors” CD - Pavarotti, Carreras, Domingo - on which Pavarotti sings “Nessun Dorma,” ( None Must Sleep ) from Puccini’s “Turandot.” It is possibly the most exquisite vocal piece I’ve ever heard.
Domingo’s “Vesti La Giubba” from I Pagliacci, is certainly a close second… Amazing stuff.There’s a scene in the movie “The Untouchables,” in which DiNiro, as Al Capone, is at the Opera, listening to one of those two arias ( don’t recall which ). Our sensitive Mr. Capone wipes a tear of appreciation from his eye before returning to his role as Prince of Thugs… remarkable moment, remarkable performance.
Gotta run for a short time, back soon, I hope.
Hi Mickey & Rosemarie & Mr. Mudge, and Michael - welcome home!, and Old Glen & Rich…Posted by joe on from Oregon 12/17 at 04:27 PMHello friends. Another mild day in NYC so Michele and I took advantage by taking a stroll around Williamsburg after stopping by our friend’s booth at a huge crafts fair.
I’m heading out to the gym soon...but I wanted to send more good vibes to Frank the cat, publicly acknowledge that Mudge is a born storyteller, and share another Brendan Behan quote: “If work is such a good thing, why don’t the rich grab it all for themselves?”
Be back later...in the not-too-distant “future.”
Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 12/17 at 04:31 PMFrom a Chris Flyod article at CounterPunch. He quotes a diarist from the Daily Kos, on the use of white phosphorous on the city of Falluja, and all the quibblings about definitions, etc., by the right, in response to the revelations that we’re burning people alive:
“First, I think it should be a stated goal of United States policy to not melt the skin off of children. As a natural corollary to this goal, I think the United States should avoid dropping munitions on civilian neighborhoods which, as a side effect, melt the skin off of children. You can call them ‘chemical weapons’ if you must, or far more preferably by the more proper name of ‘incendiaries.’ The munitions may or may not precisely melt the skin off of children by setting them on fire; they do melt the skin off of children, however, through robust oxidation of said skin on said children, which is indeed colloquially known as ‘burning’
“And I know it is true, there is some confusion over whether the United States was a signatory to the Do Not Melt The Skin Off Of Children part of the Geneva conventions, and whether or not that means we are permitted to melt the skin off of children, or merely are silent on the whole issue of melting the skin off of children[However] I am going to come out, to the continuing consternation of Rush Limbaugh and pro-war supporters everywhere, as being anti-children-melting, as a matter of general policy.”
Posted by joe on from Oregon 12/17 at 05:17 PMJames: “Do you bring new boyfriends/girlfriends home so the cats can meet them?
Do you later break up with them because the cats weren’t impressed?”
Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
So your house is decorated with pentagrams and goat’s-blood crusted chalices, then? BTW, am wearing the twin jammy bottoms to the cat lady’s as we errr speak...love them jammy bottoms!The Auto-Free Kitty thing wouldn’t open up for me, but the Polar Bear 2005 photos were a solid hoot! I love the one captioned “freinds and tattoos” the best...something very sweet about it.
“Do you spend more on doctor bills for your cats than for yourself?”
Naturally. I buy dog food and treats before I pay the bills. Of course we do.
Joe, I learned that “Nessun Dorma” was the hortatory subjunctive and is “Let No One Sleep” but that was a long time ago, so I just listen with velvet-stroked ears to that aria now.
MZ, me? A born storyteller? Shoulda met my mother...her fuzzy dime story rocked the house every time she told it.
Michael, Behan was a wise amn. I regret that he died before he was 50, bet he’d’ve gotten better with age. I watched an Irish TV movie of his Borstal years, starring Shawn Hatosy; regrettably not very well made. His life was excellent fodder for filming, hope someone else does it someday soon.
Rain at 40F “gives” me joint pain like you wouldn’t believe. Gonna be this way for a dew days. too. Whee! Reading time!
Posted by Mudge on from Dear, dead Austin 12/17 at 05:23 PMRosemarie -
I’ve gotten lots of vicarious enjoyment from the posts here, today - yes, Sir, I sure have… Thanks for those stories, and your geometry text tale.Rich, on the subject of “why would I need to know this…”
My son Craig was home-schooled for three years, but went back to public school in 10th grade. While home-schooled, I had him read “The Crucible.” Shortly thereafter, his brother was one of the main characters in a high school production of that play. Craig saw it two or three times, and subsequently read the play again, because he was so fascinated by it.
He had an excellent grasp of the piece ( for a bright, 8th Grader ), and has since often referred to it, when we’re discussing the repressive political climate pervading the country, today.
Well - fast forward to 2005, and 11th grade English class. Wow, they’re reading “The Crucible.” Craig read it once again, and enjoyed class discussions about it. Yesterday, however, they had an hour long exam on the play. The exam? -
Two pages of single line quotes from the play. They had to identify the character who spoke the line, and write the name next to the quote…
Craig thinks he probably failed the exam.Mudge, Mickey’s correct, as is so often the case - you are a wonderful story-teller. Now - would that be “Grant,” “Pershing,” “Eisenhower,” “Bradley,” MacArthur,” “Marshall,” “Patton,” Or… ?
You know, I’m unable to recall any salient incidents from high school that did not in some way involve violence. I guess that says as much about who I was, at the time, as it does about the high school.
In the 70’s, I worked as a psych tech at, among other places, the Saratoga Hospital, in Saratoga Springs. We had a “revolving door” sort of patient named “Butch.” Butch had spent a decade or so in Attica… he was there during the famous riots, quelled in typical elite fashion by then governor Nelson Rockefeller. Butch was covered with scars from the various fights, stabbings, beatings, etc., while inside. His stories ( absent the weapons ) consistently reminded me of how I felt while in high school…Oh, about joint pain: My wife’s bones & joints also ache as a result of the weather. However, they ache BEFORE the weather changes. If she says some big change is on the way, she’s always right… even if the weather report indicates only some mild shifts in temp or humidity, etc… She’s so good at predicting weather shifts that she should work for the National Weather Service.
What troubles me is, how can her bones know that, sometime in the “future,” pressure and various atmospheric changes are due to arrive?Posted by joe on from Oregon 12/17 at 06:33 PM- ) everyone here tonight.....Joe, It makes me sad to hear about the kind of test Craig had in school yesterday. What a marvelous learning opportunity was missed by that teacher.
Mudge, I have tried Glucosamine (sorry Mickey, it is made from shell fish). I am not sure if it does any good. I won’t use Chondroitin because it is sometimes made from mammal trachea. What about fish oil capsules?Posted by RMJ on from Churchill 4 Prez Hdqts 12/17 at 06:54 PM Mudge - as for post 8. your right about not worrying if its boring. “Each word has an echo. So does each silence.” - jean-paul sartre. as for post 11 i know what you mean about the depression thing. there’s 2 kinds. 1 is a panicky no sleep and 2 is head under the covers sleep all the time.
and i liked your lines in school.
mickey - being smart in my school was not something that was good to advertise - which i will explain next post.
last few weeks i’ve been so busy i have not had the time to read properly through what you all have been saying and i have just been skimming. so glad i had the chance tonight and remind myself about how smart, nice and worthwhile all the stuff on here is.
p.s. its damn cold here. -8 tonight. its “dark too. which is what i find my school story (back in 15) tho noone else might.
Posted by michael on from scotland 12/17 at 07:19 PMand i live in what must be the only house in the whole country that doesn’t have central heating. just shitty little plug in things.
Posted by michael on from scotland 12/17 at 07:25 PMschool story.
my school was weird. students came from two areas, one was very bad and one was comparitively well off. i came from the good area but had a fairly bad family history (and no money -plus ca change) so was sort of in the middle. i would hang about with the different sets at various points.
i would hang about with crazier people and get up to all sorts of shit but not be accepted because i occasionally used big words and was therefore “a posh c*nt”.
if i got tired of all that i would hang about with the geeks and was not really popular there becuase i was smarter than them in a lot of classes.
in a time i was hanging about with the geeks i walked into a class and everyone was kicking a bag around that someon had forgotten. i kicked it at the exact moment that the guy came back in to collect it. at the end of the class we were outside for break and he came up to me with a few of the crazier people (for he was of that set)
“you kicked my bag”
“no i didn’t” (give me a break- i was 13 and it was the first thing that came to mind)
“yes you did”
“ok, i did, i’m sorry”he hit me. i felt my face and there was blood coming out my nose. i lost it. i hit him. and again. and again. and again.
he fell over and i sat on top of him. i said “i’m sorry i hit your bag, i don’t want to fight with you”. then i hit his head off the ground, twice,(i am not proud of it) and walked away
after the next class i got kicked down the stairs, i looked up and someone was holding someon i didn’t know back, looked at me and said
“you better run”
i went to the next class, got a note from the teacher to go to the toilet and used the
opportunity to run out the school. i went into the city centre for the afternoon with the idea that i would go back home at the same time as normal and pretend that nothing had happened.when i got home a teacher had already been to the house and told my dad to keep me away from school for two weeks till they could settle the whole thing out. the teachers wanted to keep the cops out of it.
unknown to me, the guy was trying to stab me. a lot of his family are in jail for one thing or another. one teacher went between his house and mine and smoothed the whole thing over. after that, noone gave me any shit. partly because i had wasted the guy who hit me and partly because this one teacher had smoothed things over with his mate who had tried to stab me.
there were about 110 people of my year in that school. there are at least 15 of them dead (which i think is a high return considering i am only 28) and a lot in jail. joyriding, heroin, assault, suicide, prison suicide. welcome to my school.
Posted by michael on from scotland 12/17 at 08:34 PMHey all-- not much time online today, wanted to say hi and thanks for well wishes and cool school stories… visited Frank, it was great, he got so much more animated as soon as we had some alone time together. He had a catheter in and the collection bag was full of red fluid, um, yuck, but at least I realized why he needed to stay overnight there so much. They’re closed tomorrow but I should be picking him up on Monday after work in the afternoon. It was funny, at one point he got so full of energy he leapt from the examining table to the counter top a couple of feet away. Luckily there was a lot of slack in the catheter, otherwise, double yuck.
Mudge, thanks for your $ wish yesterday-- sorta came true. I got my security deposit from my old apartment back in the mail today! (long story why it took so long). Doesn’t quite cover the vet bill, and it was originally allocated to pay off another credit card debt, but it still helps. As to your question, well I do live in HELL’s Kitchen, right? And I won’t call it Clinton Hill or whatever no matter how gentrified it gets.
Maybe I’ll recount my life in Bronx Science belatedly tomorrow…
Posted by James on from Hell's Kitchen 12/17 at 08:56 PMAnd oh yeah, Mudge and anyone wanting to view the cat video, make sure you have Quicktime downloaded, and a high speed internet, and it should work fine… it’s soooo worth it. You get me with beard and w/o, and Frank a tiny kitty and a grown up panther.
Posted by James on from Hell's Kitchen 12/17 at 08:57 PMHello again.
Michael, I’ve always sensed you’re not the type to take shit from anyone.
Mudge, I’ve always sensed you’re the jammy bottom sort.
James, thanks for the Frank update and GREAT news on landing some needed $$$.
Joe, that’s a line I get behind: “I think the United States should avoid dropping munitions on civilian neighborhoods which, as a side effect, melt the skin off of children.” I’ve often said at public talks that it might be nice if the U.S. stopped killing babies and started feeding them.
I love “Nessun Dorma” but my favorite aria is from “La Boheme.” “Che Gelida,” I believe.
Excellent stories today...although I do wish Big Country would make his return.
Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 12/17 at 09:53 PMthats unfair. never been in a fight since (15 years! - and you do it for a living!) and never hit anyone first. in that school you just had to make a point early to be left alone, which is brutal i know but if you read the story then u know i didn’t want it to happen .i was young and stupid and i reacted. i would not react that way now. i was never a bully, far from it. i probably did not explain it well enough.
i was just “little”
Posted by michael on from scotland 12/17 at 10:13 PMMy High School is located next to WQED, the PBS affiliate TV station in Pittsburgh. One winter day as I was standing in the snow with a group of students waiting for our bus home, Dr. Fred Rogers drove up the street and turned into WQED’s driveway. Someone yelled, “Hey, it’s Mister Rogers!” Everyone hooted and waved at him as he drove by. He smiled and waved back. Then thirty snowballs pelted his car. That was a bad day in his neighborhood.
One event in High School sort of summed it up quite nicely. One sweltering day a bird flew up and landed on an open window sill in my algebra class. It squawked in surprise, spun around, shit on a desk, “then” flew off.
Posted by Cart on from near Warshington DC 12/17 at 10:15 PMYou misread me, Michael. It was a compliment. I view you as someone who doesn’t take shit and stands up for himself (and others). It was truly meant as a compliment...no “reason” to be offended, I hope.
Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 12/17 at 10:15 PMHi Rosemarie - Yeah, what an astounding waste of time, and of the opportunity to actually teach, you know? Of course, this is just the sort of topic the elites would rather the schools completely ignore…
Similarly, I read at CounterPunch today, that a middle school teacher ( 10 - 12 year olds ), was apparently fired for telling her kids - during a discussion inspired by their copy of “Time Magazine, for Kids,” - that some people opposed the war, and engaged in peaceful demonstrations against it… She then responded to their further inquiries by saying that some people thought there were better ways for countries to settle their differences, than by going off to war.She said virtually nothing else…
She’s now unemployed and, it seems, unable to find work anywhere as a teacher…Michael, thanks very much for your story. Unfortunately, we’re on very familiar ground.
You know, sometimes Western writers speak about the Eastern concept of reincarnation, as if it somehow “lets people off the hook...” in that they can screw up and, rather than having to face eternal punishment, they get to “come back,” and try again. Given the choice between eternal damnation and a return trip through childhood, I’ll take damnation in a heart beat…
By the way - I work and spend much of my day in my garage, which is unheated except for a plug in “Presto Heat Dish!” I’m usually much too warm on one side, and too cold on the other…
James - Good news. Sounds like he’s going to be fine, eh? Have they suggested how to preclude a recurrence of this problem? Two of our male cats have had UTI’s, and I’m always trying to get them to drink some more water. Of course, because they’re cats, they simply look the other way, though I think they’re secretly chuckling to themselves.
Posted by joe on from Oregon 12/17 at 10:17 PMSorry, Cart. We were typing at the same time. This might be my favorite passage of the day: Someone yelled, “Hey, it’s Mister Rogers!” Everyone hooted and waved at him as he drove by. He smiled and waved back. Then thirty snowballs pelted his car. That was a bad day in his neighborhood.
Joe, what’s a Presto Heat Dish? Sounds “special.”
Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 12/17 at 10:20 PMJoe, check it out: http://www.petfountain.com/
The food thing’s more complicated, another time…Posted by James on from Hell's Kitchen 12/17 at 10:24 PMok dudes.
mickey - i took no offence. i have an incredibly low offence threshold and an incredibly high annoyance (minor irritation) threshold when it comes to people.
none of the people on this site irk me in either way.
apologies…
Posted by michael on from scotland 12/17 at 10:26 PMIncredible, isn’t it, Mickey? If we were to feed the children, rather than incinerate them, it might set a bad example, and encourage similar acts of reason and compassion and brotherhood. Let just a few of these things slide and the whole world might turn upside down…
I’ve not heard “Che Gelida,” but I’ll look into it. I’ve listened to hours of opera, off and on ( mostly off ), over the years, and most of it does nothing for me, at all. Then, suddenly, some relatively brief “passage” just astonishes me with its beauty and power, and makes all those “drab” hours seem very much worthwhile.
Michael, I don’t think you came off as a bully, at all - and obviously Mickey didn’t think so, either… though, I sure hope you forgive the both of us, if you’re pissed. Sounds like you can be an awfully mean son of a bitch…
(Wink wink, nudge nudge )Posted by joe on from Oregon 12/17 at 10:29 PMNo apologies necessary, Michael. The beauty of the ‘Net is how people like you and I can communciate so easily although we’re so far away. One of the downsides is that we can’t discern intonation and intent. In general, when it comes to me (and just about everyone here), I’d say it’s safe to give the benefit of the doubt.
Captcha says “congress”...huh?
Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 12/17 at 10:30 PMSorry, Joe...I missed your last one.
I found the aria. It’s called “Che Gelida Manina” from La Boheme and I think you can hear a snippet here: http://tinyurl.com/9ygw3
La Boheme tells the story of struggling, starving artists and the aria is sung by a poet. I believe it might be the story that inspired the play and movie, Rent. Can anyone help with that one?
Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 12/17 at 10:38 PMP.S. Hawk’s got some Vonnegut going at his place today: http://adreampuppet.blogspot.com
Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 12/17 at 10:42 PMMickey - my little Presto looks like a tiny satellite dish… it directs heat in a specific direction, so you can warm yourself, without having to heat the whole room. Of course, it only warms one side, so it’s a bit like sitting by a fire, outside… some part of you is always chilled.
James - Look at all those mutts drinking… I love it, thanks. Oh, I think I might pick up one of those “Crazy Cat Lady Action Figures,” when I can afford it… my nephew’s GI Joes are doomed.
Posted by joe on from Oregon 12/17 at 10:43 PMnet stuff.
it allows these conversations but its much more fun to go further. i like the idea that people around the world can be sharing the same conversation...but what about the same tunes? anyone got any mozart? - we’ll stick it on. all listen to the same thing and post at the same time - now that would be an experiment to behold.and joe, for once, weekendwise, i am not pissed. just getting over a cold. i got thru all winter last year without getting one and i have had three already this year. boo
Posted by michael on from scotland 12/17 at 10:44 PMThanks for both links, Mickey.
Now I can look forward to a great aria and some Vonnegut -
my big brain is all set.I’ve been wondering where Hawk is - thought he had an additional tale to tell, today…
He’s a great addition to the gang, eh?Posted by joe on from Oregon 12/17 at 10:47 PMInteresting concept, Michael. If several of us were posting at roughly the same time, we could put on the same song...as if we were in the same coffee shop. I like it.
Somewhat related: I’ve been thinking about making a post about a particular book I was about to read or movie I was going to see and then ask as many Expendables as possible to join me. Then, the discussions could grow from there.
Joe: I also thought Hawk had tale to tell, re: school. He really does fit right in.
Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 12/17 at 10:51 PMok- if the idea is a go-er. the lets do it. you suggest something.
if you don’t then i will. did you watch ‘ we interrupt....’ yet?
Posted by michael on from scotland 12/17 at 10:54 PMHere, if you say you’re pissed, it only means angry. So, since the US is the center of the world, I assumed you’d “hear” - angry.
Michael, you should assimilate as much American English as possible, so you won’t misunderstand the guards in the Gulag. Well, look around for an old, scruffy, grumpy guy clinging to a tiny satellite dish looking thing - he’ll translate for you…
“They want us to go to the showers, Michael… What? Oh, no, I’m sure it’s a real shower. They’re Americans, after all...”Posted by joe on from Oregon 12/17 at 10:54 PMI’m not sure what “We Interrupt” is.
Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 12/17 at 10:55 PMI like that idea, Mickey… Let’s give it a go one day soon.
Posted by joe on from Oregon 12/17 at 10:56 PMWhich idea, Joe? All listenign to the same music or all reading the same book/seeing the same movie?
Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 12/17 at 10:57 PMChe gelida manina “her cold little hand”
I like La Traviata better than La Boheme because its courtesan gets to sing Libiamo which you can waltz to. It’s means “let’s drink” or “here’s to ya” in a looser translation. A wlatz about getin’ boozed up...how cool is that.
MZ makes a point, Michael and everyone...we can’t determine intent through intonation in cyberspace, and I don’t see a lot of emoticons to give us clues (I favor this, BTW) so let’s institute an Expendable tradition a la the captcha thing...let’s always assume, absent the poster’s explicitly stated intent, that something “on the bubble” of our own tolerance for any crapola be treated as well intentioned and addressed as such. No need, then, to make apologies for offense not caused. If something crosses our own lines, well, speak up but try to do so as pleasantly as possible and still address the issue, not the character one thinks it reveals.
Anything truly hateful I have to say to MZ, f/ex, I email him. All those times I call him a no-talent hack and a parasitic homunculus, I keep to emails. Which leads me to another point...teasing can be interpreted as cruelty sometimes, and I make plain my policy: I never tease anyone about anything I think is true. I treat being teased the same way.
We’re all here because, in general, we agree on some very important issues of the day. But we say here, and play here, because we like each other. James might be a Nordic supremacist cat-loving vegan Satanist (I mean, he admitted as much, though he seems to feel no shame in these aberrant and evil predilictions, and he LIVES IN HELL’S KITCHEN), but he’s also a sweet guy who deserves a chance to live long enough to repent. (And what’d I tell you about my whammys, O Minion of Evil? Frank will be well and home soon!)
So how about we ratchet our anxieties down on the common understanding that not one post here is INTENDED to be unpleasant or hurtful.
Posted by Mudge on from Dear, dead Austin 12/17 at 11:02 PMJoe, do whatever you have to do to buy that fountain for your cats. Best purchase I ever made for my cats… um, didn’t actually prevent Frank’s blockage, of course, but it’s cool to watch them enjoy the running water.
Posted by James on from Hell's Kitchen 12/17 at 11:04 PMI am giving a standing ovation, Mudge...not easy to do while typing but I am multi-talented.
Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 12/17 at 11:06 PMif i didn’t take that as read i wouldn’t have started posting here.
it’s all good. gotta go.
til tomorrow…
Posted by michael on from scotland 12/17 at 11:06 PMMy friends, it is with regret that I sign off from Astoria at 11:05 pm (EST). Thanks for another in a long line of excellent Expendable exhibitions...but an old man like me needs his sleep.
Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 12/17 at 11:11 PMExpendables Book Circle? Maybe one book a month, then discuss? Same idea with movies? Sounds like fun. I think we’re all interested enough in the various topics. Put it to a vote? If it goes, announce a book and a date for the discussion at least 4 weeks away?
I’m game.
Posted by Mudge on from Dear, dead Austin 12/17 at 11:13 PMCan we have Expendable secret virutal handshakes and decoder rings now? Mudge, wow that’s all about the sweetest stuff anyone’s ever said about me… but how about a few hundred bucks’ worth of whammy? Just a few hundred, I’m not being greedy.
Posted by James on from Hell's Kitchen 12/17 at 11:13 PMOh man, this Frank thing’s really exhausted me, meant to type/ask other stuff, maybe later, but hey Mudge, have you ever read Hunger, by Knut Hamsun? Kinda like some of the Dostoy. I’ve read, skipping the murky pseudo philosophy and going straight to the pain.
Posted by James on from Hell's Kitchen 12/17 at 11:20 PMHey Expendables,
Sorry to be absent throughout the entire day—I see that Mickey has hit the sack, and I’m not long for the day myself.
Haven’t been online much today, though I did spend two hours this evening in a wrestling death match with our wireless router. I finally won, but not until it did a backwards piledriver on my head.
Snow all day long in Boulder, low 20’s—back to normal, in other words. While running around doing this and that, I tried to mentally write a school story, but they’re all about drugs, ditching class, my friend Jeff’s ‘68 Camaro with a 327, and a coaching staff that sold cocaine and got drunk at lunch every day. Seemed old hat to me, and I’ve definitely moved on from all of that.
I’ve been thinking about 1968, the Chicago Seven and the fact that, in 2005, we live in a time that begs for popular uprising—and all we get is Fox News. If the Chicago Seven existed today, they’d have been extraordinarily renditioned to some former Eastern Bloc country, never to be heard from again. Anyway, I posted a big, long exerpt from an even bigger and longer history of that year and that event, just so I could remember what it was like when radicals threatened the American Way of Life....
Sleep well, stay warm, and enjoy your dreams....
Posted by Hawk on from Boulder, CO 12/17 at 11:37 PMHawk, that description of 1968 is accurate...but 1965 wasn’t that way. It was more like the coma before the fever. I’m biding my time for 2008.
James, I did whammy the whole amount for five days. Have faith. And I dislike Knut Hamsun for the same reasons I grimace at Hermann Hesse...quit chewing up the gruel before spitting it in my bowl, please. Elegant turns of phrase make people think of these guys as Major Talents, and I say thank the translators for that and look carefuly at the story being told. Does the author succeed in telling that story in such a way as to brighten a dim corner of one’s understanding of the world?
Siddhartha maybe. Hunger not to me, for some specific reasons. It was a book that delved into some sort of turgid philosophical blahblahblah at every opportunity, and each part was built on the part before’s most jelly-like turgidity. Ech. Since I can’t read it in the original, I have to assume that flaw is there and not simply a function of poor translation.
Want some GOOD Nordic angst? Read Kristin Lavransdattir (again?) by Sigrid Undset. All three of ‘em seemed pretty gloomy to me, even the happy-childhood The Bridal Wreath portrays (who really has a happy childhood?).
Posted by Mudge on from Dear, dead Austin 12/18 at 12:14 AMHmmm, Hamsun still bugging me...I didn’t like Hunger because its alienated anti-hero wasn’t, in my observation, a character so much as a mouthpiece for the anomie of the Ubermensch forced to deal with a world of Untermenschen, and since that Nietschean crap gets under my skin, I reacted poorly.
Why he’s in eclipse, well, Nazism isn’t pretty an he supported it until his death. He should be about due for a major critical re-evaluation in the next decade. Even Christian fiction has anti-heroes now. Perhaps the Expendables would be more interested in reading Growth of the Soil, his Farm Aid book that probably, more than any other thing, got him that Nobel. Talk about timely...ending months of WWI he writes of the nobility and sanity and sanctity of Life on the Land. Why, if I were a cynical man, I’d think it was a calculated maneuver on his part.
But of COURSE I am not cynical like that, nay nay!
I would guess that this book was deliberately reaching for a common pattern of speech, like a real farmer would use. I think it’s very successful but I’ve only read a translation done in, I think, the 1960s. Interesting...hadn’t thought of that book in easily 25 years. Now I wonder if I still have it somewhere. James, dammit, it’s almost midnight here and now I have to go find a book in my cold garage because you asked me a question!
Useless thing. YOU go out into the cold garage and find the $)(&!*^%# thing! Oh wait....
Posted by Mudge on from Dear, dead Austin 12/18 at 12:46 AMHi sleeping beings -
My 16 year old returned from a sleep over, and dragged me away for some profound teen-age, angst filled reflection…Mickey - Both.
Sorry I just walked away.
And, sleep well, my friend.Hawk -
Hi Hawk, great to hear from you.
I have many stories about a 327 1967 Camaro - a true rocket…
By the way, have you read Dave Dellinger’s “From Yale to Jail?” I’ve only browsed about it, thusfar, but it’s quite remarkable. Chomsky said he’d always admired Dellinger, but after reading this book, his admiration changed into something more like awe…Mudge,
your comment about 1965 v. 1968 is wonderfully astute. Bravo. I hope we can speak more about it, tomorrow…
Also, in general, Mr. Mudge, your posts today have been just delightful reading… thank you for these contributions, my friend.
James, I’m hoping for a decoder ring, and maybe a tiny tatoo of some sort - a barely noticable dot or asterisk, say, on the outside of the left pinky, or just above the right thumbnail… We’ll pass our rings and secret tatoos to our children and grandchildren and these will be the first generations of the great story of the Expendables… fighters for freedom and justice and the right to continue to blab long after wiser wons would have become silent…Posted by joe on from Oregon 12/18 at 03:40 AMOh my god!!! I fucking typed 3 paragraphs worth of chat about Hamsun, got the captcha wrong and lost it all, just like happened to you! Lesson: copy it out first to be on safe side. Damn it. I really needed to get this out about this book which has been both best friend and worst enemy for years now, and don’t have time/energy to recount it all now, and it’s so off-topic for whatever MZs post’ll be today. damn it.
Posted by James on from Hell's Kitchen 12/18 at 08:04 AMChristian fiction? I don’t think I’ve heard much of that, I’m afraid. I love all the school stories, though. Getting the wrong label can be an absolute downer. My best recollection with a teacher was my English teacher, who was a fantastic lady & by sixth form (age 16,17) she was teaching us Chaucer and shocked us all profoundly by using a certain ‘C’ word. Jaws dropped but hey, it’s in there.
Later, I caught her unawares ...
She said something like “let’s not pussyfoot around with this ...” and I said “oh, nice pun.” She reddened and chortled so deeply! We had a great rapport.
Worst teacher experience - two of them, one an old malcontent who loved yelling at kids for no reason (gave one guy a rocket for shading in the water in an experiment diagram - DID I TELL YOU TO DO THAT - etc etc), the other a young man who belittled me due to his misunderstanding. Odd thing, that.
Both taught science. Is there some connection?
The most eccentric teacher was one William Hockenhull, nicknamed Billyock. He was ... nuts! He set the top of another teacher’s car on fire during an experient, destroyed a classroom wall (ditto), threw a boardduster through a window, called a first year girl bitch (I’m a teacher - I would get sizzled for that & rightly so) ... ah me!
His regular trick, though, was with a historically accurate sword he had made. It wasn’t sharp, but still, a long strip of metal. He used to whirl it over our heads when we didn’t know answers. There was one very tall kid in the class, whose hair was tickled more than once by this whirling sword. He used to be very white in these lessons, for some reason.
You may think I have made this up. It sounds too outrageous to be true - it is however stone cold fact. My brother in law went to the same school but before me, and his stories are even wilder. He can hold most conversations spellbound with recollections of Billyock.
Mind, life without its eccentricities ...
Posted by Chris Wood on from Manchester, England 12/18 at 08:18 AMHello Joe,
I have not read the Dellinger book, though I’ve heard the title. I got to see/hear him talk a while back here in Boulder. It was interesting to see the old-school crowd that turned out—there’s lots of them in these parts. I’ll look for it in the used bookstores.
Now, I’m going to get in on Mickey’s Sunday post, before I let the entire day slip by again....
Posted by Hawk on from Boulder, CO 12/18 at 10:58 AMJames - posts sometimes disappear on me, too. It’s gotten to the point where, if I’m sure it’s going to be a long post, I just open a word document & type it there, first, & copy it to the board. If it disappears, I just try it again. I admit, it’s nice to have the spell-check feature “automatically” functioning as I write. I can barely spell my own name, most of the time.
Chris - wonderful post, Sir. Thanks much. There are many teachers we’ll never, ever forget, you know? Odd, the significant role they play in our lives, even if - like me - one generally loathes the entire school experience.
Hawk - I’m glad to hear you’ll keep an eye out for it. I got my copy as a birthday present. I thought my wife bought it from Powells, that awesome bookstore in Portland, when she was visiting my sister, up there. However, they don’t have it, presently, so now I’m not sure…
I envy your having seen him. An extraordinary being…Posted by joe on from Oregon 12/18 at 02:31 PM
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