Monthly Archives: March 2010

Lay-off My Purse

19 March 2010

I invited myself to join my co-workers in going out to lunch today. I usually don’t go with them when they head out for lunch because, for one thing, I’m too cheap to buy lunch at a restaurant (or the cafeteria) everyday. Second, I usually have stuff I want to take care of during my break – writing this blog, running errands, reading a book, doing my homework, stuff like that. But, today, I just felt like doing something social.

In fact, so many people from my department went out to lunch together, that I joked that it was kind of like a department meeting. I was exaggerating, of course, but this has been quite the month for our department. Early in the month, one co-worker quit. Less than two weeks later, another co-worker quit. As of today, my department employs exactly 50% of the people that it employed when we were at our peak (14 from 28). And they’re gonna be announcing lay-offs soon, too, so it’s feasible the department could shrink even more. It’s feasible, actually, that I could be one of the people laid-off. So, stay tuned.

20 March 2010

Happy vernal equinox!

Today, we went to Olive Garden for lunch. While there, I asked Jennifer if she had any hand lotion in her purse. She said she didn’t, and the following conversation ensued:

ME: You have gotta have the most useless purse contents of any woman I’ve ever lived with.

SHE: You’ve never lived with any other women.

ME: Um…my sister, my mom, both my grandmothers –

SHE: Well of course they’d have the same stuff you’d need in their purses.

ME: What’s that supposed to mean?

SHE: It means they all have OCD, just like you, so they carry all that stuff you always want.

ME: Huh. That’s probably true.

Man, the passion just never ends in our relationship.

If men could carry purses, here are ten things I’d keep in my purse: my keys, my wallet, Advil, lip balm, hand lotion, a pen, a small notepad, a multi-purpose knife, a few tissues, a flask with some hard, hard liquor in it.

Past Meets Present

17 March 2010

In class today, we watched the motion picture A Raisin in the Sun. No, not the 1961 version, the 2008 version. We watched the 1961 version last week. That means that in one week, I saw 4 movies for school-related projects.

Here’s what I gotta say about the two Raisins: if you’re in the mood for a film version of Hansberry’s famous play…skip the new one and proceed directly to the older version. Without going in to detail (’cause that’s what I’m gonna do for my class paper), let me delineate a few reasons why the older one is to be preferred:

1961: Sydney Poitier and Ruby Dee

2008: Puff Daddy and John Stamos

I think that pretty much says it all. In fairness, I felt Phylicia Rashad gave a superior performance of the Lena/Mama character, but…that’s about the only good thing I can say about the 2008 version. The newer version was also a made-for-TV production (automatic demerits), it’s longer, the dialogue features anachronistic slang, and the music (to paraphrase one of my classmates) was Disney.

To summarize —

1961: Sydney Poitier and Ruby Dee

2008: Puff Daddy and John Stamos

18 March 2010

I opened our Volkswagen Jetta’s glove compartment this afternoon.

As I’ve indicated earlier, we plan to pawn off our hecho en Mexico money pit in the near future and, consequently, I figured it was time to pry open the dashboard Ark of the Covenant and see what was in there.

To explain: a few years ago (spring 2006?) I went to open the glove compartment, and the handle broke off. I tried digging my fingers in there to open it, and I tried shimmying the lock mechanism with my keys, but I just couldn’t do it. One day, I brought a crowbar out to the Jetta and tried to open it. I would’ve succeeded, too, except a last minute decision to not permanently deface the car gave me a change of heart.

After a while, the glove compartment turned into a kind of forced, unplanned time capsule. I forgot what was in there and, since we hardly ever used it anyway, it didn’t seem like a big deal.

Well, a few days ago, while stopped at a light, I jabbed a small screwdriver in the lock and, viola! (or, presto!, if you prefer), the left-side latch unhooked. With the compartment half open, and ownership soon terminating, I decided to walk out to my Jetta during my lunch break today (with large screwdriver in hand) and finish the job. Unfortunately, the right-side latch wouldn’t budge, so I had to force it, but I didn’t hear anything break, so I think I could still close it again if I wanted.

At any rate, for the first time in years, human eyes laid eyes on the contents of the glove compartment. Talk about a lame-ass time capsule. Contents included:

-A matchbook

-A map of Sherburne County

-Directions to my sister’s house

-Another small screwdriver (jeez, I guess I have a lot of screwdrivers laying around)

-A tire pressure gauge

-A brochure advertising Big Lake Automotive (that’s a great place to bring your car, by the way)

-A receipt from April, 2006 for one of the Jetta’s 500 car repairs.

-Directions to our friends’, the Kimballs, house (they don’t even live in that house anymore)

-Directions to my sister-in-law’s townhouse (she doesn’t live in that house anymore, either)

-Directions to my brother-in-law’s house (wow – did we know where anything was back then?)

-And these:

They’re candles. Tea light candles, to be precise. Over the years of hot summers and cold winters they’ve apparently expanded, melted and spilled over the edges of their original containers. Notice the candle on the left: the wick has been completely enveloped by the wax. Meanwhile, the other two candles have conjoined to form a hybrid super-candle.

I can’t wait to go hunting for my next long-lost lame-ass treasure! Stay tuned!

Putting History Under the Microscope (and something else, too)

15 March 2001

Today Jennifer and I went to St. Thomas University to hear a presentation by James Loewen, author of one of my absolute favorite books, Lies My Teacher Told Me. Loewen was an amazing speaker, with great humor, animation, some self-deprecation thrown in. During his presentation, I learned more about the history of our nation than I did in three years of high school history (though that’s not saying much).

For example: have you ever heard of Sundown Towns? Those are towns that put up signs, rang sirens, and even enacted ordinances to keep out Blacks. Their heyday was during the first 4 decades of the 20th century and, Loewen claimed, there were over 500 in Ilinois alone. Closer to home, he cited Edina as Minnesota Sundown Town. I guess, in the 1920s, Edina’s slogan was “Not one Negro, Not one Jew.” Loewen says Edina has made good progress in the past 80 years, because now they have one of each. Ha! Now that’s funny.

Loewen began his presentation by polling the audience. He said: raise your hand and vote on what you feel was the cause of the Southern States’ secession from the Union in 1860. Here were the choices:

1. Slavery

2. States’ rights

3. Lincoln’s election

4. Taxes and tariffs (issues)

Loewen conducted this survey to prove a point, that being how uninformed Americans are about their own history. Now, the trouble is, I don’t think the survey was fair (and I say this as someone who selected the correct answer). Take a look at those choices. Which one would you pick? If you’re like most people in the audience, you probably think: “Well, it can’t be #1, because that’s what I’ve been taught to believe, and Loewen is here to argue that I was taught wrong.” Then you probably think: “It might be #4, because that’s the last one, and if the correct answer were to appear sooner than that, it would wreck the ‘gimmick’ he’s got going on.” Then you might think: “I’ll just raise my hand slowly, after everyone else has, and just go with the majority.”

Loewn claimed that the correct answer was #1, though he admitted #3 was an acceptable response as well (that’s the one I picked). Interestingly, about 65% of the audience picked #2, and Loewen claimed that was the exact wrong response, because the South was not against states’ rights, they were for them. In which case, I cry foul – the above options did not stipulate if the Southern states were for or against any of the options above, it merely listed the reasons neutrally, as I have shown.

But I hate to rip on the good Professor. Overall, I’d say it was one of the 5 or 6 best talks I have ever listened to (and THAT’S saying something).

16 March 2010

The three of us took a walk today. On our way back home, we were stopped by a tall older man, with an eye patch and a white cane. (I’ve included a link here so you’ll know what I’m talking about, ’cause I didn’t know what it was called until I looked it up, and I didn’t want to say “that thing that blind people have”.)

Anyway, he asked us if we heard about the deer, the skunk, and the duck.

“Um, no, we haven’t,” I said, not sure what to expect.

“Well,” he began, happy for the opening, “The deer, the skunk, and the duck go into a bar and they have some drinks. When they’re done, do you know who paid?”

“Um, no.”

“Well, the deer didn’t have a buck, the skunk didn’t have a (s)cent, so they put it all on the duck’s bill.”

Ba-dum-POW! More hilarity!

Also today, Owen and I played with his microscope. We looked at protozoans and human hair. More importantly, though, I want to point out the box that houses the microscope. Check this out:

Okay, so I hope you can see that the side of the box lists some of the features of the microscope. It also shows five pictures inside circles. Though it doesn’t say, I think it’s safe to assume these are some of the sights you can see when you use the scope. One looks like an amoeba, another one looks like a close up of a leaf, or maybe it’s a feather. But the one on bottom right, well, have a look for yourself:

Um…that’s sperm. SPERM! Holy crap!

Now, just to be clear here: my wife and I do not shelter our son from the “facts of life” (god, whatever happened to Charlotte Rae?). When he asks where babies come from, we tell him. When he asks how the baby got in there, we tell him. We also promote learning, especially about the sciences. In fact, I think looking at sperm through the scope might be quite fascinating. So, what floors me is not the adult content, nor the idea of learning about such things. What floors me is this: how do the microscope’s manufacturers expect these young explorers to collect this specimen?

Blue Day – Renew Day

13 March 2010

Yesterday we went to see a film for my class, today we went to see a film for Jennifer’s class.

Let’s start with: what happened to the 3D? I typed in “3D showtimes” in Google, and it told me I could see Dances with Smurfs at 4:15 at such-and-such Cinema. Then we got there…and it turned out the film was only playing in 2D. No big deal, since we weren’t too excited about the film anyway (Jennifer even said: “Good, I hate those stupid glasses”), but, still, I think it may have made the film more palatable.

I was on board with this silly film for about 1 minute. Then it breaks in to the main character narrating in a faux-hip disaffected style. Very off-putting. Worse, his narration was written into the film, and I had the displeasure of watching him record a video-blog about the movie. I’d like to say this: If a character has to narrate the story to me, then the story is either to convoluted, or the film-makers are insulting me by assuming I won’t “get” it. But, I’m not gonna say that, because there are some great films with main character narration (Life is Beautiful comes to mind, as does Memento).

But here’s where the film really began to suck blue dye #3: Cut to a scene where new recruits are being indoctrinated by a drill sergeant. Incidentally, this drill sergeant is a laughable cliche’ of his character type. Anyway, he begins by telling his “ladies” (and the cliche’ in films is to refer to new recruits in the feminine gender): “You’re not in Kansas anymore.”

Okay, I’m sorry, but that line was effective once. In 1939. This was followed by two hours + of what I’m gonna say was a feast for the eyes and ears…but neither the mind nor the heart.

Thanks for another bout of shitty dialog, James Cameron. You owe me 3 hours of my life.

14 March 2010

Today was a beautiful day! After picking up Owen from his grandparents’ house (or, should I say “disconnecting Owen from his grandparents’ house”) we drove home and went for a walk. The three of us ventured to Mississippi Market to pick up a few items. There was a slight breeze, but the sunlight actually was offering some warmth for the first time this year.

When we got back home, Jennifer busied herself with homework, but Owen and I went for another walk. Well, he rode his tricycle, but you get the idea. Went went to the local park and as we approached, Owen said: “Yay! The sand is back!” I guess that must be a glass-is-half-full way of saying “Yay! The snow is gone!”

We played at the playground for a while, including slides, swings, and diggers. Are they called diggers? That’s what we call them anyways.

When we got home, Owen still wanted to be outside some more, so he played in his sandbox for about an hour. He invited us to come out on the deck and sit with him. I obliged, and it was immensely refreshing to be sitting outside, barefoot, without a jacket. Jennifer opened all the windows and let the clean air renew our home.

No, I am not drunk. I really, honestly thought it was a good day.

The Lovely Poem

10 March 2010

Today in class we viewed the film A Raisin in the Sun. The title of this film is taken from Langston Hughes’ poem Harlem. This marks the fourth time this poem has, in some way, appeared in college classes I’ve taken. Last semester, for example, the poem appeared in a book of texts the professor had scanned (poorly) and collected into a spiral book I had to buy. I dropped that class, partially due to the soul-crushing boredom of the contents of that book (and “soul-crushingly boring” is the term I used to describe it to my advisor), and I let Owen cut the book into hundreds of scraps. But I tore out the page with Hughes’ poem in it, so as to keep a copy for myself.

I think I know why so many classes employ this poem: it’s one of the only truly great poems in the world.

11 March 2010

Today one of my co-workers quit. Well, I suppose she actually quit a couple of weeks ago, but today was her last day. She’d been with the company longer than I, and I always enjoyed working with her. It’s too bad when a likable co-worker leaves the company, because you just never know what sort of replacement you’re gonna get.

A box arrived in the mail today. Owen loves when large packages arrive, not only because it means he gets to open TWO mailboxes, but because he then gets to spend about a half hour trying to open the box. He was momentarily ecstatic when he finally opened the box, because he thought it was a present for him. I pointed out that no, the blanket was a gift for the new baby. Then he wasn’t so thrilled anymore. I think this was the first time it dawned on him that Grandma might send us gifts that are not for Owen.

At any rate: Thanks Mom! The blanket marks the first gift baby #2 has ever received.

12 March 2010

Just as I was getting in to work this morning, I realized I had neglected to give Owen a kiss good-bye. I guess that’s not such a big deal, as I usually don’t say good-bye to him in the morning. But today, he’s going to stay the night at his Grandparents house, so I won’t see him all day. Today marks, I believe, only the second time I’ve gone a whole day without being with him.

Jennifer and I went to see the The Lovely Bones this evening. I saw it for my class. We’re gonna be reading the novel in class in a few weeks, and the professor strongly encouraged us to see the film version. Here’s to hoping the book is better…