Wednesday, 10 October 2012

There was another round of lay-offs at my job today.

This marks the fifth time since my hire date that there has been a round of lay-offs that could possibly affect me. There have been many others, for sure, but those were for other sites or departments. But not counting those, there’s been a steady stream of “right-sizing” that’s affected my deparmtent about once every two years.

The first time there were lay-offs, one man from my deparment was let go. That was in early ’07, and I was afraid that I wouldn’t have anywhere else to go work. That’s because, back then, we lived way the hell up in Big Lake and any other place of employment in my area of specialty would have been quite a commute.

The second time was later that same year, and they released another guy from his employment in my department.

The third time was a little over a year later. No one from my department was axed on that day, but my co-worker’s wife (who worked in another department) was laid off, so that was too bad.

The fourth time was the biggie. We were all pretty sure we were getting kicked out. My manager even suggested to us that we look for employment elsewhere. I, and two of the women in my department, made good on his words and managed to transfer to different departments in the nick of time. Four other co-workers weren’t so lucky. The four of them represented over a quarter of our entire department and, with six people transferring (including me) over the next few months, and two people quitting, the department of fifteen was down to three by year’s end. They did hire on a couple of contractors, but they’ve since been let go, too.

So today was number five for me.

I’m still employed.

Sunday, 07 October 2012

Today marks the second day in a row that I did not ride in or drive a car. I consider this a win.

In fact, the only time this weekend that I even stepped outside the borders of my property was when we walked to the park this evening.

A few years back, I actually kept track of the days when I did not get into a car. This turned out to be more complicated than I thought, becuase there was one day that I only got into my car to move it from the street into the driveway, and another day all I did was back one of our cars out of the garage. Even counting those days as no-car days, the year ended up with something like 12 days of not getting into a car.

This is deplorably low. But that was when we lived in a smaller town. I think living in a big city affords greater opportunity to not get into a car, since we can walk to soooo many places.

Monday, 08 October 2012

Back on Friday, a man emailed me and said he wanted to purchase this item I had for sale on Craig’s List. We made arrangements to meet on Monday, which is today.

So I drove to the parking lot where I was supposed to meet him. I got there at 9:57. The meeting time was set for 10:00.

By 10:10, there was still no sign of him, so I called him…

ME: Hey, this is James, the guy from Craig’s list.

HE: Oh, hey man…

ME: Yeah…uh…we were planning to meet at 10:00…are you on your way?

HE: No, sorry, dude. I forgot that the utility guy was coming over today so I had to stay home and wait for him. I got your email earlier reminding me about today, but I didn’t have your phone number to call and cancel. Sorry. Can we meet another day, like tomorrow?

ME: No.

So, what’s the deal with him being unable to call me? For one thing, we spoke on the phone on Friday, so couldn’t he just hit the “reply” button on his phone? I suppose he might be using a landline or some other old technology that doesn’t tell him the number of the person who is calling, but did then why didn’t he email me? He said he saw my email this morning, but he didn’t know my number. What’s with changing the medium of our communication? He couldn’t simply reply to my email?

This happens often on Craig’s List: I post something, then someone emails me and says something stupid like: “Hey, I’d like to buy that, give me a call at 555-xxxx.” What’s with that? Why can’t we just talk via email?

This is like if I post a flyer somewhere, with little flags on the bottom with my phone number. Would someone call me and say: “Hey, I would be interested in buying the item I saw on your poster. Why don’t you give me your email address and we can write about it?” No. How about we just talk on the phone, since that’s how we started this conversation.

The other day, I got to work at 6:00 in the morning, and there was an email waiting for me from someone interested in buying something. He said: “Yeah, I’ll take that, give me a call.” He sent the email at midnight. So…was I supposed to call him that minute? Should I wait until 9:00? Or midnight? I just deleted his email.

Several months ago, I sold some shelving to a man, and there were some pieces he didn’t want. But then he emailed me about a month ago and asked if I still had those pieces. I wrote back and said I did. He said something like: “Okay, great, I’ll be in touch with you about getting them.” Um…you are in touch with me! How about just talking to me now?

Next time I see something for sale that I want, I’m gonna email the person with my phone number, and then, when they call me back, I’ll ask for their address. I will then send a carrier pigeon with a message saying to look for the smoke signal I’ll be sending that tells them which Western Union office they can go to to get my telegram that gives them my Twitter account name so that I can tweet them with information regarding a post card they will be receiving in the mail about a video conference I’d like to hold with them regarding the item in question.

Makes perfect sense, right?

Tuesday, 09 October 2012

I arrived on campus a wee bit early today, so I went in to the cafe’ (or bistro or whatever they call it) and got some lunch. The overpaid powers that be at Hamline graciously awarded all students $25 preloaded onto our student IDs to use at the cafeterias this semester and I plan to use every last cent of it.

Anyway, I sit down to eat my lunch and I pull out the book we’re supposed to be reading for class. I get about three pages read of the book and 75% of the sandwich masticated, and then – guess what? Fire drill.

So I, and everyone else in all the buildings, filed outside.

Damn, it was cold. I mean, it wasn’t really that cold, but my only weather-resistant clothing was a wind breaker; I wasn’t counting on hanging out outside.

I sat down on a cement wall, which instantly chilled my butt. I thought about standing again, but with a backpack, bottle of iced tea, a plate of food, and a textbook, I kind of needed to spread out a little bit.

About ten minutes later, they gave the all-clear signal, and I walked across the campus to class.

So my point it…Summer’s over.

Thursday, 04 October 2012

This evening, I hosted yet another episode of Atheists Talk. For this episode, I interviewed three people about the Secular Parenting Group; the two founders and one other member.

Here’s a link to their Meet-up page.

We discussed why they formed their group, what they do, when they meet, and what they plan to do. For the last half of the 30-minute episode, I asked them to offer some of their suggested materials for non-religious parents and their children. Here are some of the resources they cited:

The Northwest Center for Philosophy for Children. A useful website.

Ruanaway Bunny. I’d never heard of this book before. It’s by the same author who wrote Goodnight Moon, but I’m not sure if this one is drug-inspired or not.

Evolution: How We and All Living Things Came to Be, by Daniel Lexton.

The Incredible Painting of Felix Clousseau, by John Agee. I know this doesn’t sound like a book that addresses religion/science/doubt or anything like that…but if you read the book, you’ll see the connection.

Love Your Neighbor: Stories of Values and Virtues, by Arthur Dobrin.

Nurture Shock, by Po Bronson and Ashley Merryman. This one’s for the adults, obviously. I’ve never read this one. I’ll have to add it to my never-ending list of books to read.

 Friday, 05 October 2012

Recently, Representative Paul Broun said that evolution and the Big Bang theory were lies straight from the pit of hell. He said it while standing in front of a bunch of mounted deer heads, which completely affirms my preconceived notions of people who decorate with decapitated caracasses.

Anyway, this was posted on YouTube today:

Are you ready for more shocking news? This guy is a Republican and (brace yourself)… he’s from Georgia – a state that once tried to leave the United States but that Abraham Lincoln (for some bizarre reason) decided to force back into the Union. Thanks, Abe, I’m so glad we still have Georgia.

Oh – and Representative Broun serves on Congress’ Committee on Science, Space, and Technology. So don’t worry, our policies and educational systems are in good hands.

Representative Paul Broun: Saving Americans from the pits of hell since 2010.

This being an election year, he’s running for office again. It appears he’s running unopposed, too.

Saturday, 06 October 2012

This evening, Owen and I finished reading The Trumpet of the Swan together. You won’t find it listed over on my List of Books I’ve Read This Year because I already read this book once before, and that list is only for books I’ve read for the first time this year.

I read The Trumpet about five years ago. It had always been a gap in my reading, I feel. When I was in second grade, my teacher read Charlotte’s Web to the class, and I loved it so much, I made my parents buy me a copy. Then, a couple of years later, my aunt bought me Stuart Little, which I quickly realized was written by the same author – E. B. White. On the back of both books, it listed the children’s books by Mr. White. Two of them, I had read. The other one – The Trumpet of the Swan – I had not read. I determined to read it one day…but over 20 years elapsed before I made good on that commitment to myself.

When Owen and I finished the book this evening, I said: “So, what did you think?”

He said: “I liked it. I will read it to Isla one day.”

Me: “What did you think when you found out Louis had a problem and was different from his brothers and sisters. Were you worried about him?”

Owen: “No, I don’t think about those things. I just think ‘I wonder what’s gonna happen to them next.'”

So, there you have it. A stellar review from White’s target audience. Read the book and find out what’s gonna happen next.

Wednesday, 03 October 2012

 Quick! Guess where I took this picture:

A) Provo, Utah

B) Plano, Texas

C) Alabama

D) St. Paul

If you guessed “D,” you’re right. Or should I say, you’re correct.

On a related (though not strictly correlated) note, I drove 2.1 miles down St. Clair Avenue today: counted 26 signs that said “Vote No” on the upcoming no-marriage-for-gays ballot initiative. Well, on of them said “Another Catholic Voting No,” but I’m counting that, too. Actually, I think that one is pretty awesome, because it shows the Catholic chose to break ranks with Emperor Palpatine.

Above: Emperor Palpatine

I also counted one “Vote Yes” sign. The funny thing is that it’s on a duplex’s lawn and the other tenant of the duplex (I assume) put a “Vote No” sign in the yard.

Still, it’s sad to think that my unscientific sampling yields an asshole rate of about 3.7% in St. Paul. Man, that’s a lot. Gotta be waaay better than Big Lake, though. There were heaps of mullets in that town.

Tuesday, 02 October 2012

For class, I’ve been reading the soporific book The Theory Toolbox. On page 153, after bloviating for a while on structuralism vs. post-structuralism, the writers ask:

The big bang theory seems to be the accepted scientific version of the birth of the universe: It all started in one huge mass that broke apart in a huge explosion. The universe will expand as far as it can go and then begin again to contract, bringing everything crashing back into one undifferentiated mass. (This theory also helps to explain gravity, entropy, thermodynamics, and a series of other scientific concepts.) Is there anything suspicious about the big bang theory from a “poststructuralist” point of view?

Okay, I know what you’r thinking. You’re thinking: “Well, I can’t really answer that until I’ve read the pages on poststructuralism.” Yeah, that makes sense. In fact, I wasn’t even sure how to respond to the question, either, so I just sat in class and listened to what my fellow students said.

The discussion was very haphazard. One girl didn’t understand how gravity could be pushing everything apart but then, suddenly, one day, will pull it all together again. Another girl said it’s just a theory so we shouldn’t accept it as fact. Clearly, Hamline knows how to churn out intelligent graduates.

In the hubbub, one girl (okay – side note: there’s a lot of girls in my class – they acount for 13 of the 16 students) mentioned that we routinely defy gravity when taking airplane trips. Not many people heard her, because there were, like, five people talking at that moment, so I just let it slide. But then, a few minutes later, the Professor asked us if gravity really held true all the time. She cited, by way of illustration, the fact that astronauts just float in space.

So, I had to raise my hand and say something. I know my formal training is a bit lacking, but I had to say that gravity always applies. Flying in an airplane or floating in space is not evidence that the theory of gravity is wrong, and no one is “defying” or “violating” gravity at any time. Further, the laws of gravity hold true everywhere we’ve observed in the universe, and there is no reason to think they don’t hold true elsewhere. Gravity, I said, doesn’t mean that we are always stuck to the earth, it more correctly states that matter is attractive. An astronaut is falling to the earth at the exact rate specified by the mathematical laws we’ve uncovered, just as sure as an airplane is falling to earth, and the earth is falling to the sun and, heck, the earth itself is even falling toward this pencil.

I know there’s a lot of room for interpretation in these words (e.g., you could argue that “defying gravity” is simply a colloquialism for “not plummeting to the earth like I do when I jump off a diving board”), but my point just was that the sciences aren’t some fuzzy ideas like the humanities are.

I had a similar experience at the start of my last class. The professor asked if there were any absolute facts we could all agree on. Well, no, I guess, because there’s always some looney out there who will insist that the sky is a metal bowl, but I raised my hand anyway and said, “What about mathematics?” The professor said I was wrong, and then said this show that everything is open to interpretation.

I get this when it comes to history and English: Maybe Nixon was the best president America has ever had, maybe Shakespeare was a feminist, maybe Andy Warhol’s painting suck…but I must be missing something when this is applied to scientific laws and math…