Conversation Realities: Nuts

Me: I've had just about enough of this behavior. You're driving me nuts!
TLO: Peanuts!
Me: No, not peanuts. Not the kind of nuts you can eat, but nuts as in insane.
TLO: Peanuts!

::STK just laughs at the entire exchange::

Worst 416 Weeks Ever

Carter, a Democrat, said on Saturday in an interview with the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette that "as far as the adverse impact on the nation around the world, this administration has been the worst in history."

Are the Democrats paying attention to Carter? This is how you go about taking a President to task. Carter may have been a below average President, but I'd say he's achieved the "Excellent" level as a humanitarian.

UPDATE: After reflecting on this article further, I can't believe the White House is characterizing a Nobel Peace Prize winner as "increasingly irrelevant." Typical. Anybody who disagrees with or criticizes this administration is apparently irrelevant, including the majority of US American citizens.

Pitching, Peruvian Calendar, and Pop Culture Prof

Pitching. Why wouldn't major league owners, managers, and pitching coaches be all over this guy? A significant reduction in pitching injures would benefit everyone. Something doesn't align correctly.

Peruvian Calendar. More proof that we're not as advanced as we like to think. Ancient civilizations were far more advanced than we give credit. We have some fancy new gadgets with which to do the calculations, but an understanding of the science has been around for millennia. Peru, particularly Machu Picchu, is on my Must See In This Lifetime list.

Popular Culture Ambassador. I'm not sure if I'd love or hate being this popular. While it would be cool to be viewed as the expert in a given field, who the heck wouldn't go crazy from 80 phone calls a day? Yikes.

Mr. Adams, dear Mr. Adams

The new John Adams coin entered circulation today.

Guess who's going to the bank tomorrow to pick up a $25 roll?

The Case of the Suspicious File

Team teaching presents some interesting challenges. For instance, a student who is notorious for missing deadlines claims a missing paper was submitted to my colleague. Said college says the paper was never submitted. Good guy that I am, I approach the student in class and ask that another copy of the paper be sent to me via email attachment. Immediately. A day goes by and still no paper. I email said student with a friendly reminder. Nothing.* Four days after the final exam, nine days from the original request, I receive an email attachment of the paper. Typically, I'd just enter a zero in the grade book for a late paper. But, seeing that I'm team teaching and I don't know whether said colleague really received paper (and proceeded to misplace it--something that has happened with some regularity this semester) or not, I'm in something of a quandry. The stuff with my colleague aside, something doesn't feel right about the paper; I don my sleuth hat and get to work.

A quick check of the paper's electronic "Properties" reveals potential evidence of chicanery. According to the "Properties" of the file, the paper was created yesterday and edit time was roughly two hours. The elapsed editing time from moment of creation to moment of last modification and emailing to me matches up perfectly. I suspect this paper was written the day it was emailed to me.

Do I enter the zero, accept the paper as late and dock it points, or simply accept the paper as legit and grade accordingly? I'm almost positive this thing was written yesterday, but I suppose I could be wrong. If the student wrote the paper in another format and converted the file all the "Properties" data would change. Still, the edit time would apply to the newly created/converted file, right?

With the exception of this remaining file, all my grading is complete. I'm waiting to here from another colleague with whom I team taught--not the one from the above narrative--to make sure we're in agreement on final grades. I'm essentially finished one day ahead of schedule. w00t!

*This is atypical behavior for me. I believe students are adults and should be treated as such. Don't heed my call for another copy? Fine. Natural consequences = zero.

Fragments

I'm scattered every which way for the next few days. This post reflects that state of mind.

Another semester should be in the books by no later than Friday. Two sections of final exams graded--one left tomorrow AM. For any number of reasons this has been a semester to put behind me. Starting in the fall, I focus all my attention on teaching classes in my area of specialization.

A colleague defined me as little more than a novelty yesterday afternoon. I'm the new guy on campus, according to this particular prof, and my current popular status will soon wane. In five years, when my classes are still drawing students at the same rate, I plan on serving a big ol' platter of crow.

I unleashed the rhetorical black boot on a neighbor two days ago. While walking the dog, our neighbor's yellow lab came flying out the garage, down the driveway, into the street, went straight for Dargo*, and landed a couple substantial bites. I immediately went at the lab and managed to back him down. By that time, the neighbor ran out of the house and grabbed the dog. My response: "Jesus Christ! Get your dog on a goddamn leash. Fucking A!" Neighbor: "Sorry. Sorry. Sorry."

*Dargo is chocolate lab/Chesapeake retriever mix that we adopted in February. I haven't blogged about him because, quite frankly, we didn't know whether he would remain a member of our household. He was easy enough to house train, but he's a real pistol when it comes to confinement. We tried crate training and he ripped the metal door right off the crate. We finally figured out how to barricade him in the kitchen without too much trouble. If we leave anything within his reach--a newspaper, a paper bag, a plastic water jug--it's destroyed when we return home. When we're at home, not a problem. Go figure. Anyway, we've decided we'll work out any remaining problems over time. He's great with G and that's the most important thing.

Tiger, You Just Hit the Jackpot . . .

And then some.



I absolutely love comic books but this kind of blatant sexism drives me up a frelling wall. Seriously. Shall we count the problems with this maquette?

1. Objectification. MJ has always been sexually objectified but this takes the cake. Check out those low ride jeans! If they were any lower on MJ's hips we'd have intimate knowledge of her shaving habits. Do I even need to make a comment about the thong? She has enough cleavage to set off Peter's spider-sense. Those things would be a real danger when Peter and MJ . . . Do I need to spell it out?

2. Trivialization. Good to know that a strong character like MJ knows her place: in the laundry room. Way to wash out those Spider-tights. Did you catch the June Cleaver pearls around her neck. Torn hip huggers and pearls? Who comes up with this crap?

3. Dehumanization. That pose suggests doing something and it ain't laundry. For all you minors out there, that's what we call a porno pose. Is MJ starring in adult films, now? There's nothing human about MJ--she's a sex toy.

I could go on and on and on but others have been doing so for days. Suffice it to say that when I see something like this, I give some real thought to whether or not this is an industry I wish to support with my money.

Weekly Reader: Cubs, Commander Guy, and Cool Looking Phones

Cubs. Watch out! The Chicago Cubs are above .500 and ready to pounce on their National League Central rivals the Milwaukee Brewers. Of course, the Cubs will probably lose the next five straight just to make my life miserable. Still, the five game winning streak has been a nice salve to the nasty wound I received from the Nuggets. Freakin' team. I hate how they break my heart every. damn. year. Give me the summer to recuperate and I'll be praising Kenyon Martin's return as the move that will vault the Nuggets into true contender status. I'm such a sucker.

Commander Guy. Decider guy. Commander guy. I have no clue guy. I've been trying to avoid the realm of politics and the Iraq war these days. My son, A, heads for his tour of duty in late July and every time I read a report about casualties, I wince a little. Whenever I think about Commander Guy running the show . . . man, I don't know what to think. Fuck war. What a stupid way to solve problems.

Cool Looking Phones. A phone as a fashion accessory, eh? I am so behind the times. I use my cell phone to make myself available to TLO's daycare and STK, not to look cool. I can't take pictures, surf the web, or any of that fancy stuff. I have to admit, though, that when I flip my phone open I sometimes make the Star Trek communicator sound in my head and have an overwhelming urge to say, "Stevens to Valiant. One to beam up."

What does it Mean?

Yesterday, while TLO and I were taking our morning nap, I had a weird dream. The fact that I even remembered a dream is weird enough--I rarely remember my dreams--but the content made absolutely no sense.

The dream took place in our present abode. As TLO and I walked up the stairs to the second floor, Gene leaned over the rail and said, "hello." He was holding a cheap bakery cake (chocolate, white frosting, chocolate sprinkles sitting on a black plastic plate and covered with a clear plastic shield) in one hand and a black stealth cell phone in the other. The cell phone looked like it was made out of the material from a stealth fighter, complete with all the non-right angles.

And that was the dream. I'm still scratching my head over that one.

Avalanche!

Ever have a week or two where everything comes crashing down at once? Not in a bad way, but just so much going on that you feel like you absolutely cannot get caught up in any facet of your life? That's me. It started last week with Episode III: Revenge of TLO's Pneumonia--he stayed sick for the better part of a week. STK and I scrambled to make work arrangements that minimized our absence from the classroom. Thankfully, I'm team teaching two classes this semester and only had to cancel one class despite the fact that I was home with TLO for two full days.

With classes wrapping up a week from Thursday, I'm swamped at school. The moment I finish grading papers, another wave comes crashing into my office. 50 papers and 16 speeches will need grading this weekend. Yippee! Time to earn my pay, I suppose. With the exception of midterm, the rest of the semester is very manageable. Four weeks of craziness and eleven weeks of manageable. Not all that bad. If everything goes as planned, I should be finished with final grades and all by Friday, May 18.

Back to the grading!

Before I forget, Happy Beltane!