Friday, 20 January 2012

While in Janesville, the hotel where I am accommodating has seen fit to leave a copy of USA Today outside my door in the morning. That’s very nice of them. Unfortunately, didn’t discover the paper until I was leaving for my busy day. So, I basically just tossed the paper into the room and saved it for “later.”

Later turned out to be today. Tucked away in a side column on page 3A, was a story about a teacher in an Atlanta, Georgia suburb. He resigned. Or maybe it was a she. I don’t know.

“Why did he/she resign?” you ask.

Good question.

It seems this teacher sent their third-graders home with some math work that included math questions such as…

Each tree had 56 oranges. If eight slaves pick them equally, then how much would each slave pick?

Hm. Not sure why the teacher was so fixated on slavery, but it’s hard to see why that was necessary.

This one is worse:

If Frederick got two beatings per day, how many beatings did he get in one week?

Yikes. How stupid is this teacher that they didn’t realize that just about anything would have been better than “beatings”? Why couldn’t Frederick have received two apples, or dollars, or books, or job offers, or DVDs from Red Box?

And while I’m noting how crappy this teacher must be, let’s also take a look at that grammar: “How MUCH would each slave pick?” How MUCH? The word “much” indicates a ratio compared to the whole, so the answer here would have to be one-eighth, or even “their share.” Assuming the teacher wanted their third-graders to do a little division, they should have used the phrase “How MANY,” thereby forcing the correct answer of seven.

Either way, this teacher gets an F.

Here’s an online version of the story.

Thursday, 19 January 2012

When I sat down in my chair at the class here in Janesville yesterday, the first thing I noticed was a box sitting on the table.

Curiosity quickly overcame my fear of unlabeled boxes, and I picked up the white box and began to inspect it. The cardboard was smooth; polished, almost.

The left side of the box was open and, using the convenient thumb-tab, I pulled out an inner box.

The inner box was monogrammed with a logo and the word “Parker.” I correctly surmised that it was referencing neither Peter nor Charlie but, instead, indicated that the contents were a very classy pen.

I was right.

Turns out, the box held a Parker Multifunction pen. The device can be used as a ball-point pen, pencil, fountain pen, roller ball pen, capping pen, or clicking pen.

Behold.

This is a beautiful pen. Flawless, really. It wrote evenly, both yesterday and today. I even like how it’s weighted.It’s finely balanced both from the left side to the right and from top to bottom. Here’s the proof:

Pen stands on end. Ergo, it is balanced from left to right.

Pen balances on finger at the point between the top and bottom portions. Ergo, it is balanced from top to bottom.

As I assembled the pen to use it for the first time, I said to the co-worker sitting next to me, “I feel like I’m about to sign a bill into law.”

And here’s the best part: We got to keep our new pens.

Tuesday, 17 January 2012

Hi. I’m in Janesville.

I’m always a little nervous when I’m at the front desk at a hotel. I mean, they hold my life in their hands. Or, at least, they hold in their hands my residence for the next x-number of days. What if they give me a room on the parking lot side of the building? What if my room is too close to the pool and I smell chlorine all night?

Today I was given room #120. I walked in, pleased that it was not on the parking lot side, but disappointed to discover it looked out on the highway. I set about shutting off the air so that I could have complete silence. Then I stood and listened for a minute. I could hear trucks barreling down the freeway. Then I closed the curtains. God, I hate hotel curtains. They always meet right in the middle, thereby assuring a crack of light from a nearby street lamp inevitably pierces the dark room all night.

I considered going back to the front desk and requesting a room on a higher floor (to get away from the street lamp light) and further from the freeway. But about 18 of my co-workers were also in the hotel, and I don’t want them to know how neurotic I am.

I called my wife and explained the problem to her. She wasn’t too much help, which wasn’t surprising because she spends the first thirty minutes in any hotel room wiping down every surface for fear that the room is covered in blood, sweat, and santorum.

So…Since I only needed one of the two beds, I removed the quilt from one of the beds and wrapped it around the curtain rod. That made it nice and dark. I purposely slept in the bed further from the window and drifted off to sleep.

Wednesday, 18 January 2012

I used an iron for, like, the third time in my life.

Back on Monday, when I was packing for my trip to Janesville, my wife instructed me to insert one collared shirt into another and then roll them up. I did that. She also said to hang them up as soon as I got to the hotel on Tuesday. That I did not do.

It wasn’t until this morning, about 15 seconds before I put the shirt on, that I realized I should have hung up the shirts. I put on my blue button shirt and looked in the mirror. I, of course, looked smashing. But my shirt, oh no no, it would never do. It was wrinkled all over – with large creases running the length of the trim and a crumpled up mid-section.

The hotel management has seen fit to equip each room with an iron and an ironing board. I took out the iron and plugged it in. I’m always a little scared to use an iron. They’re so complicated. I never know if a button is going to cause hot water to gently mist onto the clothing, or if it’s going to dump a quart of water on me. And how long should I keep the iron in one spot? And what if I begin ironing a spot that’s folded over, will it become permanently wrinkled?

Anyway, I figured it out good enough. I would estimate a wrinkle reduction of about 80%, and I didn’t burn the shirt. I just plugged it in, didn’t touch any buttons, and waved the magic iron over the shirt splayed out on the table. Oh – yes, I used a table; not the ironing board. I can’t use ironing boards because I hate the screech they make when you open the legs.

The iron I used.

The ironing board I didn’t use.

The ironing board I did use.

Right after that, I donned the shirt and ran out to the lobby to meet up with my co-workers. I attended a presentation for most of the day. I think it was interesting, but the outlet cover on the plug under the projector screen was screwed on crooked, so I was distracted the whole day.

Thursday, 19 January 2012

Sunday, 15 January 2012

I’m sick.

Well, kind of.

In fact, I’m just slightly sick. The sort of sickness where it’s enough to bug me, but not enough to justify staying home from work or even going to bed early.

Isla, actually, has been sick far worse and longer than me. She’s been waking up every half hour or so during the night and crying and coughing. Every morning for the past week, she’s spent the first hour coughing nonstop. Poor girl.

So, I’m not complaining about my lot here, I am just wondering when will be the next time I wake up in the morning without feeling my throat constricted and having to blow my nose every fifteen minutes.

At least I don’t have to worry about staying healthy to perform a wedding.

Also, check this out. Here’s what happens when you put kids in a stark white room with nothing to use for decorations but polka-dots CLICK HERE. I suspect doing this to adults would yield similar results, too.

Monday, 16 January 2012

I didn’t have to go to work today. Something about it being King Day, I think.

Today, for at least the second time, Isla looked out the window, saw a squirrel, and shouted “bear!” It’s rather cute that Isla sincerely believes there are wild bears roaming residential Pig’s Eye. Still, I feel it was incumbent upon me to gently break it to her that not all mammals can be categorized as “kitty,” “puppy,” or “bear.”

This afternoon, while Jennifer and Owen were out and about, I took our quiet time together to have a heart-to-heart with Isla. I showed her this video of polar bears playing with dogs. It was pretty funny, really. During the first few seconds, she kept pointing to the huskies saying “puppy, puppy, puppy,” which, you know, is correct. But then I pointed to the polar bears and said, “bear.” The first time, I don’t think it clicked. But the second time, she stopped saying “puppy” and devoted her attention to the bear.

“That’s a bear,” I said.

Isla then turned around and gave me a look that said, “Holy shit, I have been grossly incorrect regarding the label I have been giving those tiny mammals that run up to our door and eat our decorative corn!”

“Yep,” I reiterated, “that’s a bear.”

I think she’s got it now. Next time she sees a squirrel, she’s not gonna know what to call them.

Later, I was organizing my books, and Isla saw the spine of the book Modoc. She pointed to the image on the spine and said, “bear.”

“No,” I said, “that’s an elephant.”

She gave me a funny look, unsure of the word I just said.

So I pulled the book off the shelf and turned to the pictures inside. She began laughing because, I guess, when you really think about it, elephants are funny looking. In order to enhance this extemporaneous learning experience, I took her over to my computer and showed her some videos.

First we watched this video of Baby elephants at play.

Then, this one of Elephants playing in water. This one made Isla laugh pretty hard, and she kept pointing to her nose saying “nose.” Again, I sympathize with her, because if you’ve gotta sum up the appearance of elephants in one word, “nose” is a rather strong candidate.

Then we watched this video of a Baby elephant playing with a beach ball.

Finally, we watched these two short films, which I will simply call Newborn elephant and more newborn elephant,

The whole time we were watching these videos, Isla kept saying “elephant,” only she would pronounce it as “fat-phant.” Ha! How funny. I think that’s a great term for elephants.

Finally, on the topic of animals, my sister’s property is providing a great roosting area for a couple bald eagles (perhaps they will nest there later this year?). Here are a couple of pictures she took today:

Saturday, 14 January 2012

Well, this morning, I found myself at Lowe’s again.

If you read THIS BLOG POST, you’ll see my first experience with Lowe’s was less than stellar. But if you read THIS BLOG POST, you’ll see that things kind of worked out okay.

It turns out, Lowe’s hosts these “Build and Grow” events on one or two Saturday mornings a month. I learned about them when I read THIS BLOG.

Owen and I had a fun time. We showed up with our completed entry form and the employees gave Owen an apron, a pair of safety goggles, and a kit. We then sat down on overturned buckets (I loved that!) and ripped open the kit.

While Owen created a little castle out of wood (complete with drawbridge), I watched him and helped out when he asked. Mostly, he couldn’t get the nails started unless I was holding the wood in place for him, but otherwise he managed on his own. I pointed out that he installed the door backwards, but that turned out for the better because then the Lowe’s insignia is hidden. He also put the window stickers on differently than the instructions showed. I didn’t even notice this until Owen showed me, but then I told him he was free to put windows where ever he desired.

Some of the other parents were total helicopters. One dad even sat behind his daughter and held her hand in his as he hammered in the nails. He must have said, “Here, let me do that,” about five times. Another parent walked up to the front and requested a replacement kit because their kid had nailed one of the walls to the floor in a kittywampus fashion. And yet another parent meticulously applied the window and brick stickers just right.

I’m not sure why these parents were creating more work for themselves. I mean, who cares how the castle turns out? For one thing, it’s just a toy. If Owen was, say, helping me install a new bathroom cabinet, I would be a little more insistent that he did the tasks “right,” but a toy? Come on. For another thing, it’s free. Free people. Jeez.

Anyway, I don’t mean to whine. All in all, we had an excellent experience. The Lowe’s employees presented Owen with a certificate and a patch to put on his apron (yeah, he got to keep the apron and the goggles). During the drive home, Owen reiterated his happiness with the event and he expressed a desire to go there again tomorrow, only this time with a friend.

Look! Owen and the castle have the same expression!

Here’s the website for signing up for the Build and Grow sessions. If you have an elementary school child, I encourage you to take them. It was fun, free, and lasted about an hour. Maybe I’ll see you there…