For the past two years, my friends Lance and Scott have issued a challenge: Blog once a day for the entire month of October. These two rascals have managed to do it both times, with each declaring himself the winner at the end of the term (although I believe Lance refers to himself as a two-time champion because he declared it first).
Anyway, there are a whole bunch of rules, but I don't feel like re-posting them. I'm going to approach this like Lance approached Ramadan: half-assed. I very much doubt that I'll be able to churn out a blog per day; my last one was almost two months ago.
I usually only blog after I've been turning something over in my head for a while, and thus my writings tend to pour out of me in a torrent. My blogs go long; sometimes I write them over the course of two days.
I also usually edit and revise them a couple times. It's not that I'm a perfectionist; I just believe that if I put my name to something, I want to make sure it's something I can feel good about. Not enough of my teenage students seem to feel that way, which is a topic I'm sure will be coming up frequently this month.
As such, this will be a challenge for me to keep things byte-sized (pun intended), or I'll never have time to finish them all. I'm pretty sure I have plenty of material. Every day it feels like there's a half dozen things that irk me rattling around in my brain. I shouldn't have to resort to writing what I had to eat that day, hopefully.
Again, I very well may not make through the weekend and may have to bend some rules. I may give up on it all together quickly. In the immortal words of Bart Simpson, I can't promise I'll try, but I can promise that I'll try to try.
And yes, I'm counting this one.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
"Racing to the Top"...of What, Again?
Let me give you a scenario. I'm going to use baseball, because sports analogies are the ones that work best for me, but you should feel free to substitute any other business you are familiar with. Please bear with me; I promise this is going somewhere.
A minor league ballclub hires you to be its manager. You've accrued enough experience, obtained solid credentials and references, nailed the interview, so they give you the job. You assume they hired you because you're creative, knowledgeable, competent, a good communicator, and a leader. You've got a lot of plans for how to make the team better.
However, on your first day on the job, you're told you're not going to be evaluated on any of these qualities. Your salary and job security rely solely on your ability to get your team to do one thing well: bunt.
You're not pleased with this. You know that bunting is important, and you were definitely going to allot significant time to teaching that skill- it's one of the fundamentals of the game, after all. But it's clearly not everything. There's a lot more to managing a baseball team than teaching players how to bunt, or even just how to hit in general.
It doesn't matter. The owner tells you that your acumen as a manager will be determined by how well your players bunt during a designated two-week span late in the year. Not the whole season: just this two-week window.
Here's where it gets even crazier. Naturally, you're going to have some players who are already pretty good at bunting, some who struggle, and a lot in between. Some of them will get better over the course of the season and some won't. Your first inclination would be to get rid of the ones who aren't coming around, right? After all, their bunting skills (or lack thereof) are determining your paycheck (or lack thereof).
No, the owner says. You're stuck with the ones you've got. Can't cut any of them, no matter how bad or disinterested at mastering the skill that will define you as a coach they may be. Don't get any ideas about trading for better bunters, either. Some teams have better bunters to start with, some have worse. That's just the luck of the draw.
Ok then, you think. You just won't let them play when you're being evaluated. You'll only put your greatest bunters out there, the ones who've responded to instruction best, during that two-week window.
Wrong again, the owner responds. They've all gotta play, and you're judged on how well they all do as a group.
You try to plead with him. Lots of them just don't give a damn about bunting, and there's nothing you can do to make them. They want to hit home runs, steal bases, make diving catches. Bunting is tedious, and they just don't care about getting better at it. Hell, some of them don't seem to even want to play baseball at all. They care more about ogling girls, spitting sunflower seeds, and planning how much weed they're going to smoke after practice. There is a sizable contingent that simply refuses to bunt, no matter what you say or do to them.
The owner is deaf to your pleas. Then comes the kicker: While you will be assessed completely based on how well your team bunts during their bunting challenge, the players themselves will not be affected at all, no matter how poorly or amazingly they perform.
Would you want to manage a team if you had to play by those rules? Or, to put it more generally, would you want to be in charge of a company where you had no input as to who's hired or fired? Where your performance would be based only on how well your employees grade out on an assessment that they not only have little-to-no impetus to prepare for, but also no reward nor punishment for how well they do on it?
It sounds ludicrous when put in those terms, doesn't it?
But this is basically what the proponents of merit pay for teachers are proposing. I can understand why. The education system has some pretty significant problems (although I'd suggest that there's still a lot more good than bad being done- the routine successes are just not as exciting as the tales of tragedy and failure). We all want accountability, someone to blame when things go wrong.
I'll be the first to admit that there are bad teachers out there. There are also bad doctors, bad chefs, and bad toll booth operators. People also have a point when they claim teachers acquire too much job security too quickly. I know of a few cases at my school where the students and the school would benefit from letting go of an incompetent teacher, but the obstacles to firing them were too great.
However, the biggest reason that these low-performing teachers make it to tenure is because there's so little competition for their low-paying, high-stress jobs. It's easy for a principal to get rid of an instructor in that teacher's first couple years. It's much harder to fill his/her shoes with someone who's going to do a better job, especially in math and science.
Merit pay, coming to the fore again under Obama's new "Race to the Top" education proposal, is popular with the general public. Not only does it give people a false sense of rewarding "good" teachers while penalizing "bad" ones, it lends itself to one of the great American pastimes, union bashing, when teachers' associations resist the idea.
Look, the teachers just want to get paid for holding their jobs another year! They don't care about the kids or how good a job they're doing! They just want to hide behind their union and pocket those lucrative paychecks!
In order to clarify why merit pay (at least the way it's been proposed so far, which is based on standardized test results) is a terrible idea, allow me to drop the analogy and clarify the realities of being a teacher:
1. You don't get to choose the classes you teach (although seniority generally dictates how closely your preferences are met). Some of us teach honors, some of us teach remedial, most of us are in the middle somewhere. Some years we have a batch of kids who are great, some years they're worse. Teaching isn't like any other profession. We're stuck (or blessed) with what we get, and we make do.
Teaching is also not like in the movies. There are no Dangerous Minds or Freedom Writers scenarios where you can turn a whole, disinterested class around. You might be able to move one or two students per year significantly one way or the other, tops. Mostly, though, they come to you at a certain level, and they leave at roughly the same level, and frustratingly, there's very little you can do to vastly improve them. You give them the necessary tools they need to move on, you hope you can impart some wisdom, perspective, skills, and intellectual curiosity onto them, and that's it.
This isn't to say some of us aren't better at it and some worse, but think about it: I'll bet you got about the same grades throughout high school in each subject, regardless of your teacher.
And yes, it's true. Their performance on the standardized tests does not affect students in any way. My district has been trying to put the results on their transcripts (which still wouldn't mean much, but it would be a small step) for years, but the parents (who can also excuse their children from the tests; you'd be surprised how often they do) have opposed it. Talk about accountability.
2. Speaking of the parents, if you read the excellent book Freakonomics, you will see analysis shows that teachers/schools have very little to do with standardized test scores. The results are nearly entirely dictated by parent income/education level. If parents have higher expectations for their kids, the kids generally do better. That's it. No mysteries. When we lament the state of education, why don't the parents of our nation's children ever come up as being a source of the problem?
If you'll permit me an anecdote, several years back I was considering switching districts so I could start making the really big bucks. I interviewed at Miramonte High School in Orinda, owners of some of the best test scores in California, much better than anything in the district I was coming from.
I asked what literature textbook they used, and they looked at me quizzically. You see, at my school we had been getting pushed to do more exercises out of the lit book, because it was aligned to the standards and thus would prepare kids to do better on the test. Miramonte said they didn't use a textbook, only novels (no standardized worksheets included with those).
How could this be? They seemingly didn't drill taking the test, but they were doing much better on it than at my school, where it was a stated priority. If you know the East Bay, you'll know the answer is as simple as buying a house in Pleasant Hill vs. buying one in Orinda. Hint: Schoolteachers can't afford to buy houses in Orinda.
3. Teachers are collaborative; a competitive system would give them reason not to help each other out. Suddenly, if I'm vying with Mr. Johnson for dollars, am I more or less inclined to share the awesome lesson plan I made about teaching Romeo and Juliet? Does this benefit the students or impair them?
This would be particularly harmful to new teachers, who must steal at least 80% of material from others, or they simply won't survive. Forty-eight percent of teachers never make it past three years on the job because they're overwhelmed. Without fellow teacher support, that number goes up. Again, who is going to replace them? I hear a lot of people talking about what an awful job we're doing, but I don't see many in line to replace us.
Add to this the possibility of widespread fraud. How's this for insanity? We'd be the ones supervising the tests, and the ones to whom the results matter most. There are myriad instances of teachers cheating in situations where the test scores affected their jobs. They either helped students with the answers or erased and filled in the right ones themselves (thanks to Freakonomics for this info, again).
I know the argument will follow that just because teachers could easily cheat doesn't negate the idea of merit pay. But how could we ever know whose test scores are real and whose are enhanced, as long as the teachers are the ones handling the evidence? The pressure would be on to keep up with one's colleagues. In addition, there's simply no money to proctor the exam any other way.
4. The reason I compared the standardized tests (in California, it's called the "STAR") to bunting in baseball is because although it's used as the be-all, end-all of student performance for lack of other quantifiable evidence, it's not the focus of our daily routine (and here I speak mostly for English teachers). According to some, it should be. If it ever happened that teaching to the test exclusively or almost exclusively became the mandate, I'm fairly certain that I would leave the profession, and I think I speak for a lot of other teachers as well.
Again, think back to your own schooling experiences. Would you have wanted your everyday English class to replicate the STAR test? Just reading Reader's Digest-sized excerpts and then answering questions about the selection? Figuring out which of the four sentences is grammatically correct? Choosing the word that best fills in the blank? Because that's all the STAR test is, a series of multiple choice questions, spread over a two-week period.
Unbelievably, there is no writing on the exam. The STAR is theoretically to be aligned to the standards, about half of which are writing, and that's not even measured.
I tend to believe there are lots of things that multiple choice can't measure. Like Shakespeare's delightfully bawdy wordplay. Like learning about empathy from Boo Radley and Tom Robinson. Like John Proctor's impassioned speech, explaining why he'd rather hang for being a witch than lose his name's integrity. Like Holden's voice as he rambles around New York City, an adolescent trying to find his place in the world. Like Huck learning the nature of friendship from a slave named Jim, pant cuffs rolled up, floating lazily along the Mississippi.
Think back now. Did any of those things make a difference in the type of person you are today, or was it your performance on a multiple choice, state-issued test? Did the teachers you considered as having the most positive impact on your life spend a lot of reading 250-word excerpts and then answering questions about the passage's main idea? Did you learn the most from an instructor who told you to turn to page whatever in your textbook and fill out the standardized worksheet, or was it someone who made these stories come to life and explained their relevance to our own existence?
How on earth does merit pay measure that?
A minor league ballclub hires you to be its manager. You've accrued enough experience, obtained solid credentials and references, nailed the interview, so they give you the job. You assume they hired you because you're creative, knowledgeable, competent, a good communicator, and a leader. You've got a lot of plans for how to make the team better.
However, on your first day on the job, you're told you're not going to be evaluated on any of these qualities. Your salary and job security rely solely on your ability to get your team to do one thing well: bunt.
You're not pleased with this. You know that bunting is important, and you were definitely going to allot significant time to teaching that skill- it's one of the fundamentals of the game, after all. But it's clearly not everything. There's a lot more to managing a baseball team than teaching players how to bunt, or even just how to hit in general.
It doesn't matter. The owner tells you that your acumen as a manager will be determined by how well your players bunt during a designated two-week span late in the year. Not the whole season: just this two-week window.
Here's where it gets even crazier. Naturally, you're going to have some players who are already pretty good at bunting, some who struggle, and a lot in between. Some of them will get better over the course of the season and some won't. Your first inclination would be to get rid of the ones who aren't coming around, right? After all, their bunting skills (or lack thereof) are determining your paycheck (or lack thereof).
No, the owner says. You're stuck with the ones you've got. Can't cut any of them, no matter how bad or disinterested at mastering the skill that will define you as a coach they may be. Don't get any ideas about trading for better bunters, either. Some teams have better bunters to start with, some have worse. That's just the luck of the draw.
Ok then, you think. You just won't let them play when you're being evaluated. You'll only put your greatest bunters out there, the ones who've responded to instruction best, during that two-week window.
Wrong again, the owner responds. They've all gotta play, and you're judged on how well they all do as a group.
You try to plead with him. Lots of them just don't give a damn about bunting, and there's nothing you can do to make them. They want to hit home runs, steal bases, make diving catches. Bunting is tedious, and they just don't care about getting better at it. Hell, some of them don't seem to even want to play baseball at all. They care more about ogling girls, spitting sunflower seeds, and planning how much weed they're going to smoke after practice. There is a sizable contingent that simply refuses to bunt, no matter what you say or do to them.
The owner is deaf to your pleas. Then comes the kicker: While you will be assessed completely based on how well your team bunts during their bunting challenge, the players themselves will not be affected at all, no matter how poorly or amazingly they perform.
Would you want to manage a team if you had to play by those rules? Or, to put it more generally, would you want to be in charge of a company where you had no input as to who's hired or fired? Where your performance would be based only on how well your employees grade out on an assessment that they not only have little-to-no impetus to prepare for, but also no reward nor punishment for how well they do on it?
It sounds ludicrous when put in those terms, doesn't it?
But this is basically what the proponents of merit pay for teachers are proposing. I can understand why. The education system has some pretty significant problems (although I'd suggest that there's still a lot more good than bad being done- the routine successes are just not as exciting as the tales of tragedy and failure). We all want accountability, someone to blame when things go wrong.
I'll be the first to admit that there are bad teachers out there. There are also bad doctors, bad chefs, and bad toll booth operators. People also have a point when they claim teachers acquire too much job security too quickly. I know of a few cases at my school where the students and the school would benefit from letting go of an incompetent teacher, but the obstacles to firing them were too great.
However, the biggest reason that these low-performing teachers make it to tenure is because there's so little competition for their low-paying, high-stress jobs. It's easy for a principal to get rid of an instructor in that teacher's first couple years. It's much harder to fill his/her shoes with someone who's going to do a better job, especially in math and science.
Merit pay, coming to the fore again under Obama's new "Race to the Top" education proposal, is popular with the general public. Not only does it give people a false sense of rewarding "good" teachers while penalizing "bad" ones, it lends itself to one of the great American pastimes, union bashing, when teachers' associations resist the idea.
Look, the teachers just want to get paid for holding their jobs another year! They don't care about the kids or how good a job they're doing! They just want to hide behind their union and pocket those lucrative paychecks!
In order to clarify why merit pay (at least the way it's been proposed so far, which is based on standardized test results) is a terrible idea, allow me to drop the analogy and clarify the realities of being a teacher:
1. You don't get to choose the classes you teach (although seniority generally dictates how closely your preferences are met). Some of us teach honors, some of us teach remedial, most of us are in the middle somewhere. Some years we have a batch of kids who are great, some years they're worse. Teaching isn't like any other profession. We're stuck (or blessed) with what we get, and we make do.
Teaching is also not like in the movies. There are no Dangerous Minds or Freedom Writers scenarios where you can turn a whole, disinterested class around. You might be able to move one or two students per year significantly one way or the other, tops. Mostly, though, they come to you at a certain level, and they leave at roughly the same level, and frustratingly, there's very little you can do to vastly improve them. You give them the necessary tools they need to move on, you hope you can impart some wisdom, perspective, skills, and intellectual curiosity onto them, and that's it.
This isn't to say some of us aren't better at it and some worse, but think about it: I'll bet you got about the same grades throughout high school in each subject, regardless of your teacher.
And yes, it's true. Their performance on the standardized tests does not affect students in any way. My district has been trying to put the results on their transcripts (which still wouldn't mean much, but it would be a small step) for years, but the parents (who can also excuse their children from the tests; you'd be surprised how often they do) have opposed it. Talk about accountability.
2. Speaking of the parents, if you read the excellent book Freakonomics, you will see analysis shows that teachers/schools have very little to do with standardized test scores. The results are nearly entirely dictated by parent income/education level. If parents have higher expectations for their kids, the kids generally do better. That's it. No mysteries. When we lament the state of education, why don't the parents of our nation's children ever come up as being a source of the problem?
If you'll permit me an anecdote, several years back I was considering switching districts so I could start making the really big bucks. I interviewed at Miramonte High School in Orinda, owners of some of the best test scores in California, much better than anything in the district I was coming from.
I asked what literature textbook they used, and they looked at me quizzically. You see, at my school we had been getting pushed to do more exercises out of the lit book, because it was aligned to the standards and thus would prepare kids to do better on the test. Miramonte said they didn't use a textbook, only novels (no standardized worksheets included with those).
How could this be? They seemingly didn't drill taking the test, but they were doing much better on it than at my school, where it was a stated priority. If you know the East Bay, you'll know the answer is as simple as buying a house in Pleasant Hill vs. buying one in Orinda. Hint: Schoolteachers can't afford to buy houses in Orinda.
3. Teachers are collaborative; a competitive system would give them reason not to help each other out. Suddenly, if I'm vying with Mr. Johnson for dollars, am I more or less inclined to share the awesome lesson plan I made about teaching Romeo and Juliet? Does this benefit the students or impair them?
This would be particularly harmful to new teachers, who must steal at least 80% of material from others, or they simply won't survive. Forty-eight percent of teachers never make it past three years on the job because they're overwhelmed. Without fellow teacher support, that number goes up. Again, who is going to replace them? I hear a lot of people talking about what an awful job we're doing, but I don't see many in line to replace us.
Add to this the possibility of widespread fraud. How's this for insanity? We'd be the ones supervising the tests, and the ones to whom the results matter most. There are myriad instances of teachers cheating in situations where the test scores affected their jobs. They either helped students with the answers or erased and filled in the right ones themselves (thanks to Freakonomics for this info, again).
I know the argument will follow that just because teachers could easily cheat doesn't negate the idea of merit pay. But how could we ever know whose test scores are real and whose are enhanced, as long as the teachers are the ones handling the evidence? The pressure would be on to keep up with one's colleagues. In addition, there's simply no money to proctor the exam any other way.
4. The reason I compared the standardized tests (in California, it's called the "STAR") to bunting in baseball is because although it's used as the be-all, end-all of student performance for lack of other quantifiable evidence, it's not the focus of our daily routine (and here I speak mostly for English teachers). According to some, it should be. If it ever happened that teaching to the test exclusively or almost exclusively became the mandate, I'm fairly certain that I would leave the profession, and I think I speak for a lot of other teachers as well.
Again, think back to your own schooling experiences. Would you have wanted your everyday English class to replicate the STAR test? Just reading Reader's Digest-sized excerpts and then answering questions about the selection? Figuring out which of the four sentences is grammatically correct? Choosing the word that best fills in the blank? Because that's all the STAR test is, a series of multiple choice questions, spread over a two-week period.
Unbelievably, there is no writing on the exam. The STAR is theoretically to be aligned to the standards, about half of which are writing, and that's not even measured.
I tend to believe there are lots of things that multiple choice can't measure. Like Shakespeare's delightfully bawdy wordplay. Like learning about empathy from Boo Radley and Tom Robinson. Like John Proctor's impassioned speech, explaining why he'd rather hang for being a witch than lose his name's integrity. Like Holden's voice as he rambles around New York City, an adolescent trying to find his place in the world. Like Huck learning the nature of friendship from a slave named Jim, pant cuffs rolled up, floating lazily along the Mississippi.
Think back now. Did any of those things make a difference in the type of person you are today, or was it your performance on a multiple choice, state-issued test? Did the teachers you considered as having the most positive impact on your life spend a lot of reading 250-word excerpts and then answering questions about the passage's main idea? Did you learn the most from an instructor who told you to turn to page whatever in your textbook and fill out the standardized worksheet, or was it someone who made these stories come to life and explained their relevance to our own existence?
How on earth does merit pay measure that?
Friday, July 31, 2009
Socialism: Adendum
If you even casually keep up with current events, you can probably guess what inspired the satire in the post below this one.
Like a lot of people, I'm in favor of a single-payer, government-run health care system. Yes, socialized medicine. There is, of course, huge controversy over this, mostly because people fear the word "socialism" without understanding what it means. They just know it's supposed to be bad, a close cousin to that arch-nemesis to our freedoms: communism.
What I tried to point out in my last post is that we already revere and enjoy several aspects of socialism; we just don't refer to them that way because they're so deeply ingrained in our way of life. Police and fire departments, public education, and even the U.S. Armed Forces are, by any definition, socialist institutions. They are funded and run completely by the government and provided at no cost to citizens (other than, of course, taxes).
We have set up these systems because as a society we have agreed that certain things should be made available to all citizens, regardless of income level. Everyone is entitled to police protection, fire services, education, and protection from threats both foreign and domestic. I doubt that even conservatives would find fault with that.
Thus, the obvious question: Why aren't we entitled to health care...you know, life itself?
The right does their usual "The government can't do anything right!" rap (which is a self-fulfiling prophecy), conveniently ignoring that they're the biggest supporters of increased spending for the U.S. Military, by far the largest chunk of federal government spending. Why do they have so much faith in the government when it comes to guns and bombs but not surgery and bandages? It also doesn't acknowledge whom we entrust with our most lauded citizens: veterans. Where do they get their health care? I don't need to tell you the answer, do I?
What really drives me crazy is that for the first time in a long time, the Democrats, supposedly the party of the common man, has complete, fillibuster-proof control. They have another year-and-a-half to get things done. Say what you may about Bush, but even when he didn't have this majority, he bent the country to his will. He and Cheney circled their own party's wagons and bullied enough Democrats into voting for wars, tax cuts, etc.
Every day, I see Obama's promise of "affordable health care for all" get watered down just a little bit more. And mostly it's because the Dems continue to let the Republicans (especially the pundits with their legions of unthinking dittoheads) continue to frame the debate. They just scream "socialism!" over and over again until the more conservative Dems get cold feet and start eliminating any provision that would substantially overhaul the system, which was sort of the whole point in the first place.
Think about that for a second. How amazing is it that the Democrats are allowing policy to be dictated to them by a party whose approval rating is at historic lows? Will they ever grow a spine and get it together?
Here's my first suggestion: Obama puts those brilliant oratory skills to work in order to speak rationally and sensibly about socialism. He points out all the socialist stuff we already have and makes the case that health care shouldn't be a for-profit industry, the same way the police, fire, education, and military systems shouldn't be (the fact that the military is becoming scandalously privatized is the subject for another blog). Wouldn't that appeal to the majority of the American public?
Wanna hear something really depressing? What prompted me to write all this was a recent viewing of the Ted Kennedy documentary on HBO. They showed a speech he gave in 1978 (a curly brown-haired Bill Clinton introduced him) about health care. Teddy spoke passionately about the need for all Americans to have quality health care, not just well-to-dos like his famous family.
It's over 30 years later, and I'm hearing the exact same points being made, with zero progress. In fact, things are much worse. You don't need the stats thrown at you again; it's well known that the U.S. spends by far the most on health costs and yet lags behind dozens of other countries in actual health benefits, life expectancy, etc.
Are Americans really so thick-headed that they would continue under this abysmal system rather than accept that the most important part of being guaranteed life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness just might be the "life" part?
Sadly, I think the answer is yes. But at least we'll have struck down further socialism. Hooray.
Like a lot of people, I'm in favor of a single-payer, government-run health care system. Yes, socialized medicine. There is, of course, huge controversy over this, mostly because people fear the word "socialism" without understanding what it means. They just know it's supposed to be bad, a close cousin to that arch-nemesis to our freedoms: communism.
What I tried to point out in my last post is that we already revere and enjoy several aspects of socialism; we just don't refer to them that way because they're so deeply ingrained in our way of life. Police and fire departments, public education, and even the U.S. Armed Forces are, by any definition, socialist institutions. They are funded and run completely by the government and provided at no cost to citizens (other than, of course, taxes).
We have set up these systems because as a society we have agreed that certain things should be made available to all citizens, regardless of income level. Everyone is entitled to police protection, fire services, education, and protection from threats both foreign and domestic. I doubt that even conservatives would find fault with that.
Thus, the obvious question: Why aren't we entitled to health care...you know, life itself?
The right does their usual "The government can't do anything right!" rap (which is a self-fulfiling prophecy), conveniently ignoring that they're the biggest supporters of increased spending for the U.S. Military, by far the largest chunk of federal government spending. Why do they have so much faith in the government when it comes to guns and bombs but not surgery and bandages? It also doesn't acknowledge whom we entrust with our most lauded citizens: veterans. Where do they get their health care? I don't need to tell you the answer, do I?
What really drives me crazy is that for the first time in a long time, the Democrats, supposedly the party of the common man, has complete, fillibuster-proof control. They have another year-and-a-half to get things done. Say what you may about Bush, but even when he didn't have this majority, he bent the country to his will. He and Cheney circled their own party's wagons and bullied enough Democrats into voting for wars, tax cuts, etc.
Every day, I see Obama's promise of "affordable health care for all" get watered down just a little bit more. And mostly it's because the Dems continue to let the Republicans (especially the pundits with their legions of unthinking dittoheads) continue to frame the debate. They just scream "socialism!" over and over again until the more conservative Dems get cold feet and start eliminating any provision that would substantially overhaul the system, which was sort of the whole point in the first place.
Think about that for a second. How amazing is it that the Democrats are allowing policy to be dictated to them by a party whose approval rating is at historic lows? Will they ever grow a spine and get it together?
Here's my first suggestion: Obama puts those brilliant oratory skills to work in order to speak rationally and sensibly about socialism. He points out all the socialist stuff we already have and makes the case that health care shouldn't be a for-profit industry, the same way the police, fire, education, and military systems shouldn't be (the fact that the military is becoming scandalously privatized is the subject for another blog). Wouldn't that appeal to the majority of the American public?
Wanna hear something really depressing? What prompted me to write all this was a recent viewing of the Ted Kennedy documentary on HBO. They showed a speech he gave in 1978 (a curly brown-haired Bill Clinton introduced him) about health care. Teddy spoke passionately about the need for all Americans to have quality health care, not just well-to-dos like his famous family.
It's over 30 years later, and I'm hearing the exact same points being made, with zero progress. In fact, things are much worse. You don't need the stats thrown at you again; it's well known that the U.S. spends by far the most on health costs and yet lags behind dozens of other countries in actual health benefits, life expectancy, etc.
Are Americans really so thick-headed that they would continue under this abysmal system rather than accept that the most important part of being guaranteed life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness just might be the "life" part?
Sadly, I think the answer is yes. But at least we'll have struck down further socialism. Hooray.
Monday, July 27, 2009
The Dirty Word: Socialism
Like most "Real Americans," I hate socialism. As such, I propose we rid ourselves of all of its forms. Until we do, how can we really be a land of freedom?
For instance, my house caught on fire last week. These guys came with a big red truck and sprayed water all over the place. Sure, the fire was out, but what a mess! They also rescued my cat out of a tree while they were there. I hated that cat.
The most infuriating thing is that between wrecking my house with water damage and running up future pet store bills, they told me they were government employees. And get this: they had free health care, and pensions, and job security! I told those socialists to get out and send me the bill later for whatever service they thought they had provided. They said it was free. Something about my taxes paying for it. Well, joke's on them. I've got a great accountant, and I don't really pay taxes (wink, wink).
I went down to the liquor store for some more cigs (I smoked my last one while falling asleep on my couch right before all those guys showed up with their stupid hoses). On the way there, a mugger pulled a gun on me. I was ready to give this fool a total beat-down (I was in my ninja fetal-position trick pose) when a cop car rolled up. These blowhards cornered the scum and arrested him.
Anyway, I figured these guys would want to get paid, but they said their job was to "protect and serve." Apparently, they're also paid by the government. Man, that burns me up. What gives them the right to provide for my protection?
When I got home, there was a message on the machine from my nag of an ex-wife. She says I'm behind on the child support again. I don't know what she's complaining about; what does she need money for? She sure doesn't need it for day care. I mean, the kids go to school during the day for free. Let the teachers babysit 'em! And the oldest is over 18 and in community college, anyway. It costs like $50 a semester. They must not even have buildings or professors or anything.
There's one last thing that really chaps my hide. Did you know there's this giant socialist institution that no one ever talks about, because we're too busy saluting them? Check this out: this massive bunch of freeloaders get free health care for life, free housing, free food, free uniforms, an amazing pension plan, and best yet, basically anyone can join, regardless of his/her qualifications. Plus, you still get paid!
Here's the kicker: The wasteful federal government spends more money on these commies than any other facet of our woeful system. That's right, U.S. Military. I'm lookin' at you. Love it or leave it, baby.
Support the troops? Sorry. I'm no socialist.
Edit 10/25/09: See this chart for further clarification.
For instance, my house caught on fire last week. These guys came with a big red truck and sprayed water all over the place. Sure, the fire was out, but what a mess! They also rescued my cat out of a tree while they were there. I hated that cat.
The most infuriating thing is that between wrecking my house with water damage and running up future pet store bills, they told me they were government employees. And get this: they had free health care, and pensions, and job security! I told those socialists to get out and send me the bill later for whatever service they thought they had provided. They said it was free. Something about my taxes paying for it. Well, joke's on them. I've got a great accountant, and I don't really pay taxes (wink, wink).
I went down to the liquor store for some more cigs (I smoked my last one while falling asleep on my couch right before all those guys showed up with their stupid hoses). On the way there, a mugger pulled a gun on me. I was ready to give this fool a total beat-down (I was in my ninja fetal-position trick pose) when a cop car rolled up. These blowhards cornered the scum and arrested him.
Anyway, I figured these guys would want to get paid, but they said their job was to "protect and serve." Apparently, they're also paid by the government. Man, that burns me up. What gives them the right to provide for my protection?
When I got home, there was a message on the machine from my nag of an ex-wife. She says I'm behind on the child support again. I don't know what she's complaining about; what does she need money for? She sure doesn't need it for day care. I mean, the kids go to school during the day for free. Let the teachers babysit 'em! And the oldest is over 18 and in community college, anyway. It costs like $50 a semester. They must not even have buildings or professors or anything.
There's one last thing that really chaps my hide. Did you know there's this giant socialist institution that no one ever talks about, because we're too busy saluting them? Check this out: this massive bunch of freeloaders get free health care for life, free housing, free food, free uniforms, an amazing pension plan, and best yet, basically anyone can join, regardless of his/her qualifications. Plus, you still get paid!
Here's the kicker: The wasteful federal government spends more money on these commies than any other facet of our woeful system. That's right, U.S. Military. I'm lookin' at you. Love it or leave it, baby.
Support the troops? Sorry. I'm no socialist.
Edit 10/25/09: See this chart for further clarification.
Friday, July 17, 2009
The Character of Meetings
“If you had to identify, in one word, the reason why the human race has not achieved, and never will achieve, its full potential, that word would be 'meetings.'” -Dave Barry
Truer words were never spoken.
I've only had one real job, but sitting through ten years of faculty meetings has taught me a few things. I could go on and on about how amazing it is that former teachers (read: administrators) seemingly have no idea how to present information in an interesting, coherent fashion, but that's a subject for another blog.
What I'd like to share here is my observations of the audience members of these meetings. Not those talking, typically, but those being talked (down) to. There seem to be two distinct personality types which can be broken down into subgenres. To wit:
1. The Willing and Interested
Even if these people don't exactly like going to meetings, they sure haven't learned to loathe them, either. They don't constantly check the clock nor their watches, and they rarely groan audibly. Among this group are the three following characters:
A. The Riddler
The most earnest and insecure guy/gal in the room. Asks question after question in order to clarify what seems obvious to everyone else. Has never heard the expression "It is better to ask for forgiveness than permission." Not the sharpest crayon in the box; got straight B's all through high school because he/she worked his/her butt off and came in after school to ask what he/she should study for the test. Is terrible in sports, art, and social interaction because he/she has no natural inclination for anything.
Sample quote (true story): In response to a presentation about what to do during a "Columbine drill," where one must exit his/her room and lock the door from the outside, "I lose my keys a lot. What should I do?"
B. The Stickler
Follows all the rules to the letter. Is constantly taking notes during the meeting. Usually sits by him/herself, as almost everyone else finds him/her annoyingly anal and rigid. Most likely to be a virgin and/or member of the religious right. Will give others dirty looks in the copy room for "stealing" a paper clip or not resetting their codes. Would've been found goose-stepping across Berlin in the 30's. Favorite Office characters are Dwight and Angela.
Sample quote: "If I have to leave for a doctor's appointment at 12:32; is it ok if I sign out for 12:35, because it usually takes me three minutes to get to my car?"
C. The Anecdote Teller
Feels compelled to tell stories about his/her experiences or the way he/she does things. Can single-handedly elongate meetings by as many as 5-15 minutes. Is lonely and craves attention and affirmation. Doesn't want to go home because no one's there, or worse yet, they've stopped listening to his/her endlessly mind-numbing tales of workplace minutiae. Identifies with Striker in Airplane.
Sample quote (true story): In response to a lecture on not letting kids out to the bathroom too often, "That is true. I once let a girl out to go to the bathroom, and she came back with a soda...and a sweatshirt. I don't think she even went to the bathroom!"
Note: To my knowledge, no one has ever admitted to belonging to any of the aforementioned groups, yet we all know these people.
2. The Cynical and Resentful
These people regard meetings as sores on the backside of an already unbearable workday. Most of them have to be reminded repeatedly to attend and fill the air with profanities when they find a gathering is scheduled for that day. This population also divides itself into three categories:
D. The Goof-Off
He/she shows up, but is not especially interested in gleaning information from the proceedings. Often doesn't have a pen, so if a sign-in sheet is involved, will have to noisily bother other, more responsible attendees for a writing implement. Once an implement is obtained, The Goof-Off will doodle, pass notes, and create derisive nicknames for the members of the first, more involved group. Will screw around on the internet or read a newspaper if not monitored. Audibly prays for death if meeting drags past an hour.
Sample Quote: "Oh, please God. Do not let (fill in Anecdote Teller's name here) raise his/her hand again. I will beat myself to death with the corner of this table."
E. The Challenger
Bristles at authority and has good job security. Knows that nothing short of a personal attack or an openly racist remark will get him/her reprimanded. Waits for the boss to say something that the boss isn't totally committed to, then tears into whatever plan or edict is being proposed/issued. Often cites years of experience as reason for his/her expertise on the subject. Makes other, more compliant meeting attendees uncomfortable with near-open hostility.
Sample Quote (actual): "Don't worry, everybody. They'll tell us to do this for a little while, and then it'll pass. Heck, you (pointing at the principal) probably won't be around much longer anyway."
F. The Openly Disdainful
A close cousin to The Challenger (and nearly always a male), his job is also assured in the long term. His watch is permanently set on half-past give-a-crap. He walks in 10 minutes late and leaves whenever he believes the thrust of the meeting has come to an end, but always before The Riddlers and Sticklers can ask any clarifying questions. While at the meeting, he'll make a show of how little he's paying attention by wearing sunglasses, leaning back in his chair, and sighing loudly. Will often ask annoying questions of his colleagues the next day about the content of the meeting he worked so hard to ignore.
Sample Quote: "What did I miss?"
Do you recognize these from your office? What type are you? For the record, I'm a combination of The Goof-Off and The Challenger.
Truer words were never spoken.
I've only had one real job, but sitting through ten years of faculty meetings has taught me a few things. I could go on and on about how amazing it is that former teachers (read: administrators) seemingly have no idea how to present information in an interesting, coherent fashion, but that's a subject for another blog.
What I'd like to share here is my observations of the audience members of these meetings. Not those talking, typically, but those being talked (down) to. There seem to be two distinct personality types which can be broken down into subgenres. To wit:
1. The Willing and Interested
Even if these people don't exactly like going to meetings, they sure haven't learned to loathe them, either. They don't constantly check the clock nor their watches, and they rarely groan audibly. Among this group are the three following characters:
A. The Riddler
The most earnest and insecure guy/gal in the room. Asks question after question in order to clarify what seems obvious to everyone else. Has never heard the expression "It is better to ask for forgiveness than permission." Not the sharpest crayon in the box; got straight B's all through high school because he/she worked his/her butt off and came in after school to ask what he/she should study for the test. Is terrible in sports, art, and social interaction because he/she has no natural inclination for anything.
Sample quote (true story): In response to a presentation about what to do during a "Columbine drill," where one must exit his/her room and lock the door from the outside, "I lose my keys a lot. What should I do?"
B. The Stickler
Follows all the rules to the letter. Is constantly taking notes during the meeting. Usually sits by him/herself, as almost everyone else finds him/her annoyingly anal and rigid. Most likely to be a virgin and/or member of the religious right. Will give others dirty looks in the copy room for "stealing" a paper clip or not resetting their codes. Would've been found goose-stepping across Berlin in the 30's. Favorite Office characters are Dwight and Angela.
Sample quote: "If I have to leave for a doctor's appointment at 12:32; is it ok if I sign out for 12:35, because it usually takes me three minutes to get to my car?"
C. The Anecdote Teller
Feels compelled to tell stories about his/her experiences or the way he/she does things. Can single-handedly elongate meetings by as many as 5-15 minutes. Is lonely and craves attention and affirmation. Doesn't want to go home because no one's there, or worse yet, they've stopped listening to his/her endlessly mind-numbing tales of workplace minutiae. Identifies with Striker in Airplane.
Sample quote (true story): In response to a lecture on not letting kids out to the bathroom too often, "That is true. I once let a girl out to go to the bathroom, and she came back with a soda...and a sweatshirt. I don't think she even went to the bathroom!"
Note: To my knowledge, no one has ever admitted to belonging to any of the aforementioned groups, yet we all know these people.
2. The Cynical and Resentful
These people regard meetings as sores on the backside of an already unbearable workday. Most of them have to be reminded repeatedly to attend and fill the air with profanities when they find a gathering is scheduled for that day. This population also divides itself into three categories:
D. The Goof-Off
He/she shows up, but is not especially interested in gleaning information from the proceedings. Often doesn't have a pen, so if a sign-in sheet is involved, will have to noisily bother other, more responsible attendees for a writing implement. Once an implement is obtained, The Goof-Off will doodle, pass notes, and create derisive nicknames for the members of the first, more involved group. Will screw around on the internet or read a newspaper if not monitored. Audibly prays for death if meeting drags past an hour.
Sample Quote: "Oh, please God. Do not let (fill in Anecdote Teller's name here) raise his/her hand again. I will beat myself to death with the corner of this table."
E. The Challenger
Bristles at authority and has good job security. Knows that nothing short of a personal attack or an openly racist remark will get him/her reprimanded. Waits for the boss to say something that the boss isn't totally committed to, then tears into whatever plan or edict is being proposed/issued. Often cites years of experience as reason for his/her expertise on the subject. Makes other, more compliant meeting attendees uncomfortable with near-open hostility.
Sample Quote (actual): "Don't worry, everybody. They'll tell us to do this for a little while, and then it'll pass. Heck, you (pointing at the principal) probably won't be around much longer anyway."
F. The Openly Disdainful
A close cousin to The Challenger (and nearly always a male), his job is also assured in the long term. His watch is permanently set on half-past give-a-crap. He walks in 10 minutes late and leaves whenever he believes the thrust of the meeting has come to an end, but always before The Riddlers and Sticklers can ask any clarifying questions. While at the meeting, he'll make a show of how little he's paying attention by wearing sunglasses, leaning back in his chair, and sighing loudly. Will often ask annoying questions of his colleagues the next day about the content of the meeting he worked so hard to ignore.
Sample Quote: "What did I miss?"
Do you recognize these from your office? What type are you? For the record, I'm a combination of The Goof-Off and The Challenger.
Monday, February 9, 2009
25 Things About Me- Taken from Facebook
1. If I die before I witness a San Francisco Giants' World Championship, my life will be somewhat incomplete, no matter what else happens.
2. One of my proudest achievements is also one of my most frustrating: I was "reassigned" as the campus newspaper adviser after one year because the administration was uncomfortable with actual journalism being taught, rather than just putting out a monthly propaganda newsletter about how great things were. It still aggravates me just as much almost three years later.
3. If there had been "Rock Band" when I was in college, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have graduated, at least on time.
4. As it was, it was close: I had to call from a pay phone in Switzerland (a month after walking the stage at Davis) to verify I had actually passed a class that the professor had threatened me with no credit in. I apologize to the Swiss people who had to deal with the drunken American redhead yelling "I graduated! Yes! Oh, wait. Is that a good thing?"
5. Most days I can look around and think how blessed I am to come to work every day and be surrounded by youthful vitality and laughter and noise. Some days I simply want to kill them all. The day half of them cut to get free Denny's was the most recent example.
6. My wife and I first got together in a friends' house in San Francisco where neither of us lived. In the morning, I woke up and went down the hill to walk in the Bay to Breakers race with some other buddies. Our pre-planned costume theme? The Walk of Shame.
7. My biggest problem with most who call themselves "conservatives" is that they usually just repeat ideology they've heard some right-wing commentator spout off, and they rarely have any history or evidence to back it up. The fact that they've been on the wrong side of every single civil rights issue and continue to back things like Prop H8te is especially galling.
8. I can't stand when people are consistently late. It speaks volumes about their personalities, even though every time they are tardy, they have an excuse about that one time and refuse to see it as a destructive pattern. I lived in San Francisco and commuted to Pleasant Hill for five years. In that time, I was late to school exactly twice: once when there was a gigantic accident on the Bay Bridge, and once when I was staying over at my parents' in Lafayette and set the alarm an hour late.
9. I can't take anyone's writing completely seriously who still hasn't figured out homonyms like your/you're, there/their/they're, its/it's, etc. It makes me apoplectic when I see someone has made a sign for the world to see (like at a sporting event or in front of a store). It makes me question if humans are really worthwhile as a species when I point this out to the signmaker and he or she shrugs instead of immediately apologizing and remedying the situation.
10. I nicknamed my sister "Vern" at an early age, and it has stuck with her into her 30's.
11. Perhaps the best compliment I've ever received was from a student who wrote to me in her journal a few years back: "You say what you'll do, and you do what you say." My wife recently told me something similar. In that vein, I think honesty is one of my biggest strengths/weaknesses. I am a terrible liar, and I often say things without really thinking about them. I then have to backpedal with a stunning lack of grace or finesse because of the aforementioned lack of guile.
12. I've never seen a tattoo that I thought was attractive. They are a total turn-off for me. I also firmly believe (with some evidence) that nearly every single person who gets a tattoo regrets doing so later in life. It's no secret why: most people get them between the ages of 18-25. You're not going to be the person you are at 30 that you were at 19. And thank god for that.
13. I consider myself a good writer in the same way I consider myself good at "Rock Band." I'm better than most people I know, which gives me an inflated sense of self-worth right up until I read something by F. Scott Fitzgerald or watch a youtube video of some nine year-old playing "Free Bird." That usually puts me in my place.
14. It frustrates me when people don't understand satire. There's a reason that "South Park" and "The Simpsons" are better shows than "Family Guy," and why "Tropic Thunder" is a better movie than "Paul Blart: Mall Cop."
15. If you saw "Paul Blart: Mall Cop," and CAN'T WAIT for the new "Transformers" movie, but you've never seen "Goodfellas"...well...let's not talk about movies until you've grown up a bit, eh?
16. I love and am a passionate defender of the Bay Area. I've lived here my whole life (except for a four-year sojourn at nearby Davis), just bought a house here, and went to elementary school with four of the five groomsmen from my wedding. I don't think it's because I'm a homebody, necessarily. I think it's because I was born and raised in one of the most desirable places on earth to be born and raised, and I've had the good sense to appreciate it, along with most of my friends. Kuzak will come to his senses sooner or later.
17. If you were born and raised in the Bay Area, you MUST root exclusively for Bay Area sports teams, no exceptions. If you root for the Lakers or another historically successful franchise, you are a poser. You're stuck with the Warriors like the rest of us, like it or not. End of discussion. Oh, and also: If you root for USC, the Yankees, or the Cowboys and you didn't go there/aren't from there, you are probably the Devil, or at least related to Him.
18. I'm always skeptical of people who insist on defining themselves as "we" and losing their identities to their significant others. It even bugs me when people post facebook/myspace profile photos locked in some sort of embrace with their spouse/mate/hookup partner, whatever. You can be in love and still have your own identity. Oh, and if you're under 25 or so, you are not sane when it comes to relationships. You may think and believe you are with all your might, but that does not make it so. Trust me.
19. If there were three abilities (non-superpower division) that I wish I had, they would be, in order: 1. Be able to dunk a basketball 2. Be able to hit a home run out of a major league ballpark 3. Be an amazing singer/actor (I'm in a few movies already but am not "amazing"- check out my videos). Also, I'd settle for just being an average ball hockey player, instead of the crappy one I am currently.
20. My ideal Friday night is take-out dinner at home with Eileen, watching Battlestar Glactica and a Sharks/Warriors/Giants victory, and having a couple ice-cold martinis. The college version of me just stomped on my head repeatedly while the mid-20's version stood there and watched, nodding.
21. I've been meaning to lose the same 20 pounds or so for roughly the last eleven years, but beer and fried foods keep altering the deal. I pray they do not alter it further.
22. I don't really have a favorite food, but at gunpoint I'd go with Mexican over Italian. I could probably eat some form of tacos for the rest of my life.
23. I used to describe my music taste as "eclectic." Then some guys at work made me realize that I was using "eclectic" to mean "a fan of girl pop music in addition to more typical rock fare." I watched an Avril Lavigne concert in HD last night at 2:30 in the morning. I'm not making this up.
24. My feelings about organized religion range from "benign and somewhat useful" at best to "contemptible and the root of most human tragedy for the past few thousands of years" at worst. Yet I'm the son of a church choir director, I married a Catholic in a Catholic church, and I find newer, more out-there religions like Mormonism, Jehovah's Witnesses, and Scientology endlessly fascinating. I'm even reading a book on Mormons right now, and it's my second one.
25. I typically disdain sentimental, tacky crap. But every once in a while I take a look around at my family, my friends, my home, and the 40-50 happy birthday messages I got a few days ago, and I feel pretty damn lucky. Although, I'd really like a dog somewhere in my life.
2. One of my proudest achievements is also one of my most frustrating: I was "reassigned" as the campus newspaper adviser after one year because the administration was uncomfortable with actual journalism being taught, rather than just putting out a monthly propaganda newsletter about how great things were. It still aggravates me just as much almost three years later.
3. If there had been "Rock Band" when I was in college, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have graduated, at least on time.
4. As it was, it was close: I had to call from a pay phone in Switzerland (a month after walking the stage at Davis) to verify I had actually passed a class that the professor had threatened me with no credit in. I apologize to the Swiss people who had to deal with the drunken American redhead yelling "I graduated! Yes! Oh, wait. Is that a good thing?"
5. Most days I can look around and think how blessed I am to come to work every day and be surrounded by youthful vitality and laughter and noise. Some days I simply want to kill them all. The day half of them cut to get free Denny's was the most recent example.
6. My wife and I first got together in a friends' house in San Francisco where neither of us lived. In the morning, I woke up and went down the hill to walk in the Bay to Breakers race with some other buddies. Our pre-planned costume theme? The Walk of Shame.
7. My biggest problem with most who call themselves "conservatives" is that they usually just repeat ideology they've heard some right-wing commentator spout off, and they rarely have any history or evidence to back it up. The fact that they've been on the wrong side of every single civil rights issue and continue to back things like Prop H8te is especially galling.
8. I can't stand when people are consistently late. It speaks volumes about their personalities, even though every time they are tardy, they have an excuse about that one time and refuse to see it as a destructive pattern. I lived in San Francisco and commuted to Pleasant Hill for five years. In that time, I was late to school exactly twice: once when there was a gigantic accident on the Bay Bridge, and once when I was staying over at my parents' in Lafayette and set the alarm an hour late.
9. I can't take anyone's writing completely seriously who still hasn't figured out homonyms like your/you're, there/their/they're, its/it's, etc. It makes me apoplectic when I see someone has made a sign for the world to see (like at a sporting event or in front of a store). It makes me question if humans are really worthwhile as a species when I point this out to the signmaker and he or she shrugs instead of immediately apologizing and remedying the situation.
10. I nicknamed my sister "Vern" at an early age, and it has stuck with her into her 30's.
11. Perhaps the best compliment I've ever received was from a student who wrote to me in her journal a few years back: "You say what you'll do, and you do what you say." My wife recently told me something similar. In that vein, I think honesty is one of my biggest strengths/weaknesses. I am a terrible liar, and I often say things without really thinking about them. I then have to backpedal with a stunning lack of grace or finesse because of the aforementioned lack of guile.
12. I've never seen a tattoo that I thought was attractive. They are a total turn-off for me. I also firmly believe (with some evidence) that nearly every single person who gets a tattoo regrets doing so later in life. It's no secret why: most people get them between the ages of 18-25. You're not going to be the person you are at 30 that you were at 19. And thank god for that.
13. I consider myself a good writer in the same way I consider myself good at "Rock Band." I'm better than most people I know, which gives me an inflated sense of self-worth right up until I read something by F. Scott Fitzgerald or watch a youtube video of some nine year-old playing "Free Bird." That usually puts me in my place.
14. It frustrates me when people don't understand satire. There's a reason that "South Park" and "The Simpsons" are better shows than "Family Guy," and why "Tropic Thunder" is a better movie than "Paul Blart: Mall Cop."
15. If you saw "Paul Blart: Mall Cop," and CAN'T WAIT for the new "Transformers" movie, but you've never seen "Goodfellas"...well...let's not talk about movies until you've grown up a bit, eh?
16. I love and am a passionate defender of the Bay Area. I've lived here my whole life (except for a four-year sojourn at nearby Davis), just bought a house here, and went to elementary school with four of the five groomsmen from my wedding. I don't think it's because I'm a homebody, necessarily. I think it's because I was born and raised in one of the most desirable places on earth to be born and raised, and I've had the good sense to appreciate it, along with most of my friends. Kuzak will come to his senses sooner or later.
17. If you were born and raised in the Bay Area, you MUST root exclusively for Bay Area sports teams, no exceptions. If you root for the Lakers or another historically successful franchise, you are a poser. You're stuck with the Warriors like the rest of us, like it or not. End of discussion. Oh, and also: If you root for USC, the Yankees, or the Cowboys and you didn't go there/aren't from there, you are probably the Devil, or at least related to Him.
18. I'm always skeptical of people who insist on defining themselves as "we" and losing their identities to their significant others. It even bugs me when people post facebook/myspace profile photos locked in some sort of embrace with their spouse/mate/hookup partner, whatever. You can be in love and still have your own identity. Oh, and if you're under 25 or so, you are not sane when it comes to relationships. You may think and believe you are with all your might, but that does not make it so. Trust me.
19. If there were three abilities (non-superpower division) that I wish I had, they would be, in order: 1. Be able to dunk a basketball 2. Be able to hit a home run out of a major league ballpark 3. Be an amazing singer/actor (I'm in a few movies already but am not "amazing"- check out my videos). Also, I'd settle for just being an average ball hockey player, instead of the crappy one I am currently.
20. My ideal Friday night is take-out dinner at home with Eileen, watching Battlestar Glactica and a Sharks/Warriors/Giants victory, and having a couple ice-cold martinis. The college version of me just stomped on my head repeatedly while the mid-20's version stood there and watched, nodding.
21. I've been meaning to lose the same 20 pounds or so for roughly the last eleven years, but beer and fried foods keep altering the deal. I pray they do not alter it further.
22. I don't really have a favorite food, but at gunpoint I'd go with Mexican over Italian. I could probably eat some form of tacos for the rest of my life.
23. I used to describe my music taste as "eclectic." Then some guys at work made me realize that I was using "eclectic" to mean "a fan of girl pop music in addition to more typical rock fare." I watched an Avril Lavigne concert in HD last night at 2:30 in the morning. I'm not making this up.
24. My feelings about organized religion range from "benign and somewhat useful" at best to "contemptible and the root of most human tragedy for the past few thousands of years" at worst. Yet I'm the son of a church choir director, I married a Catholic in a Catholic church, and I find newer, more out-there religions like Mormonism, Jehovah's Witnesses, and Scientology endlessly fascinating. I'm even reading a book on Mormons right now, and it's my second one.
25. I typically disdain sentimental, tacky crap. But every once in a while I take a look around at my family, my friends, my home, and the 40-50 happy birthday messages I got a few days ago, and I feel pretty damn lucky. Although, I'd really like a dog somewhere in my life.
Monday, February 2, 2009
#1
Before I finally end this torture (I did title the first entry on this list as "A Project I Will Likely Never Finish"), I want to give shout-outs to two shows I mentioned in that very first blog on my top-10 t.v. shows list.
Battlestar Galactica is just finishing up its run, and as I predicted, it would easily have made this list had I started it six months later. I went back and watched the first two seasons, and they were just as magnificent as I had suspected. It's yet another of the shows on this list that will turn some people off because of the name. And yeah, it's science fiction, for sure. But it's well-done sci-fi, which means it's actually about real issues, not just "aliens and robots and stuff," to paraphrase my 10th graders.
The other show I mentioned in that January 30th, 2008 blog (yes, it has taken me over a year to complete a top-10 list...how does David Letterman do it?) ended this fall, and its finale was as good as anything I've seen besides Six Feet Under (#3). It's one of those endings that made you say, "You know, it couldn't have ended any other way." Michael Chiklis (as morally-challenged cop Vic Mackey) is fantastic (although whenever he would do something shady -which was A LOT- Eileen would lament, "I liked him better as 'The Commish'"), and the supporting cast is top notch and vulnerable to being killed off at any moment. This is hardly an original idea, but the crazy thing was how no matter how much destruction Vic causes or how many people he burns, there's part of you that keeps rooting for him, in spite of your better judgement. Such is the power of Chiklis; he intimidates the viewer into liking him even as he's intimidating and abusing other characters on the show.
Ok- on to the grand finale.
The Wire
Yet another HBO show, and yet another one that I didn't give a fair shot when it came out. I'm actually pretty ashamed of myself. I read a couple reviews about how it was the best show on television, came into the middle of an episode from season one, watched for about eight minutes, and decided it wasn't for me. Brilliant, Nolan.
What turned me off? All the stuff that eventually made me love it: the lack of any recognizable actors (although that's certainly changed now), the grittiness of urban Baltimore, the labyrinthine plots, the unhurried pace.
The beauty of The Wire is that it's so many things at once:
It's a cop show. Some of the best scenes involved the archetypal buddy cop banter of "Bunk" Moreland and Jimmy McNulty, two of Baltimore's most effective yet hardest-drinking detectives. One highlight was the end of an episode in season one where the two investigate a crime scene, using only curse words, uttered in various grunts and incarnations.
It's a street show. The Wire is the only t.v. drama that neither glorifies nor marginalizes what it's like to grow up in an urban neighborhood, where the drug trade is by far the most profitable career path. Instead of painting all these young, mostly black men with the same brush, each character has different motivations and nuance. This show will quite simply expand your mind on the nature of American crime and criminals. It won't make you change any of your political views, necessarily, but at the very least you will see things from a perspective that you might have never had before. Isn't that what great art is supposed to do?
It's a show about big issues. Each season focuses on a different aspect of urban American life, and at the end of the season you will feel a mixture of hope, frustration, terror, and pride. But you will come away changed.
The first season introduced the street players and the cops who try (mostly fruitlessly) to stem the flow of drugs into the streets of Baltimore. We meet the legendary characters Avon Barksdale (drug kingpin), Stringer Bell (Avon's refined consigliere), and one of the superlative characters in t.v. history, Robin Hood of-the-Hood Omar Little. You've never been quite so terrified/delighted as when you've heard Omar whistle "The Farmer in the Dell," strolling slowly, a shotgun over his shoulder.
The second stanza chronicles life on the docks, showing the camaraderie and corruption that a blue-collar union can bring. Special props for introducing future Oscar nominee and Michael Scott paramour Amy Ryan as an idealistic but in-over-her-head dock cop.
The third season portrays a fascinating gamble in America's longest-running struggle: the war on drugs. The police captain makes an unofficial decision to allow drug dealers to operate without consequence in a certain area of town (comically labeled "Hamsterdam"). The results don't pretend to offer up an easy solution to our drug policy, but as usual, The Wire makes you think.
Most critics count the fourth season as the show's zenith, and I'm with them. It has special resonance for me, because it largely deals with public schools and all the roadblocks, setbacks, and occasional mini-triumphs everyone who enters that realm is subject to. The story of the four boys whose fates are to be all uniquely intertwined feels as authentic as a documentary while never becoming predictable.
Season five received grumbles of discontent from fans and critics who felt it neglected "the street," which is ironic because it dealt largely with homelessness. I had no problems with it. If anything, I thought it was slightly ahead of its time due to the way it defined the struggling American newspaper business (an expertise of head writer David Simon, who was a former crime reporter for the Baltimore Sun). The show ended well and with dignity, with its trademark tragedies and moments of sweetness.
I've thought about this last facet of the show a lot, and I hesitated to mention it because I thought it would look ridiculous in print. But it just keeps coming back to me: It's a show about bureaucracy. It's about American institutions and why they're largely so ineffective. The Wire shows that there are amazing, heroic people in every aspect of society. However, those bright lights are inevitably dimmed or even extinguished by the soul-crushing rules, order, and self-preservation that is promoted by the very systems we've put in place to ensure our safety, education, and pursuit of happiness. The amazing thing is how The Wire juxtaposes legal, government bureaucracy with organized crime and shows that a drug lord manages the same leadership challenges, petty jealousies, and nagging constituencies that a big-city mayor must face.
If you haven't already, you should rent this show from the beginning. Please don't give up on it after an episode or two. This is one of those great contributions to the cannon of works that are uniquely American, the t.v. equivalent of The Great Gatsby or The Godfather.
I'll end with the touching re-imagining of Margaret Wise Brown's "Goodnight, Moon," as told by incorruptible detective Kima Greggs to her son, Elijah:
Goodnight moon
Goodnight stars
Goodnight po-pos
Goodnight fiends
Goodnight hoppers
Goodnight hustlers
Goodnight scammers
Goodnight to everybody
Goodnight to one and all.
Battlestar Galactica is just finishing up its run, and as I predicted, it would easily have made this list had I started it six months later. I went back and watched the first two seasons, and they were just as magnificent as I had suspected. It's yet another of the shows on this list that will turn some people off because of the name. And yeah, it's science fiction, for sure. But it's well-done sci-fi, which means it's actually about real issues, not just "aliens and robots and stuff," to paraphrase my 10th graders.
The other show I mentioned in that January 30th, 2008 blog (yes, it has taken me over a year to complete a top-10 list...how does David Letterman do it?) ended this fall, and its finale was as good as anything I've seen besides Six Feet Under (#3). It's one of those endings that made you say, "You know, it couldn't have ended any other way." Michael Chiklis (as morally-challenged cop Vic Mackey) is fantastic (although whenever he would do something shady -which was A LOT- Eileen would lament, "I liked him better as 'The Commish'"), and the supporting cast is top notch and vulnerable to being killed off at any moment. This is hardly an original idea, but the crazy thing was how no matter how much destruction Vic causes or how many people he burns, there's part of you that keeps rooting for him, in spite of your better judgement. Such is the power of Chiklis; he intimidates the viewer into liking him even as he's intimidating and abusing other characters on the show.
Ok- on to the grand finale.
The Wire
Yet another HBO show, and yet another one that I didn't give a fair shot when it came out. I'm actually pretty ashamed of myself. I read a couple reviews about how it was the best show on television, came into the middle of an episode from season one, watched for about eight minutes, and decided it wasn't for me. Brilliant, Nolan.
What turned me off? All the stuff that eventually made me love it: the lack of any recognizable actors (although that's certainly changed now), the grittiness of urban Baltimore, the labyrinthine plots, the unhurried pace.
The beauty of The Wire is that it's so many things at once:
It's a cop show. Some of the best scenes involved the archetypal buddy cop banter of "Bunk" Moreland and Jimmy McNulty, two of Baltimore's most effective yet hardest-drinking detectives. One highlight was the end of an episode in season one where the two investigate a crime scene, using only curse words, uttered in various grunts and incarnations.
It's a street show. The Wire is the only t.v. drama that neither glorifies nor marginalizes what it's like to grow up in an urban neighborhood, where the drug trade is by far the most profitable career path. Instead of painting all these young, mostly black men with the same brush, each character has different motivations and nuance. This show will quite simply expand your mind on the nature of American crime and criminals. It won't make you change any of your political views, necessarily, but at the very least you will see things from a perspective that you might have never had before. Isn't that what great art is supposed to do?
It's a show about big issues. Each season focuses on a different aspect of urban American life, and at the end of the season you will feel a mixture of hope, frustration, terror, and pride. But you will come away changed.
The first season introduced the street players and the cops who try (mostly fruitlessly) to stem the flow of drugs into the streets of Baltimore. We meet the legendary characters Avon Barksdale (drug kingpin), Stringer Bell (Avon's refined consigliere), and one of the superlative characters in t.v. history, Robin Hood of-the-Hood Omar Little. You've never been quite so terrified/delighted as when you've heard Omar whistle "The Farmer in the Dell," strolling slowly, a shotgun over his shoulder.
The second stanza chronicles life on the docks, showing the camaraderie and corruption that a blue-collar union can bring. Special props for introducing future Oscar nominee and Michael Scott paramour Amy Ryan as an idealistic but in-over-her-head dock cop.
The third season portrays a fascinating gamble in America's longest-running struggle: the war on drugs. The police captain makes an unofficial decision to allow drug dealers to operate without consequence in a certain area of town (comically labeled "Hamsterdam"). The results don't pretend to offer up an easy solution to our drug policy, but as usual, The Wire makes you think.
Most critics count the fourth season as the show's zenith, and I'm with them. It has special resonance for me, because it largely deals with public schools and all the roadblocks, setbacks, and occasional mini-triumphs everyone who enters that realm is subject to. The story of the four boys whose fates are to be all uniquely intertwined feels as authentic as a documentary while never becoming predictable.
Season five received grumbles of discontent from fans and critics who felt it neglected "the street," which is ironic because it dealt largely with homelessness. I had no problems with it. If anything, I thought it was slightly ahead of its time due to the way it defined the struggling American newspaper business (an expertise of head writer David Simon, who was a former crime reporter for the Baltimore Sun). The show ended well and with dignity, with its trademark tragedies and moments of sweetness.
I've thought about this last facet of the show a lot, and I hesitated to mention it because I thought it would look ridiculous in print. But it just keeps coming back to me: It's a show about bureaucracy. It's about American institutions and why they're largely so ineffective. The Wire shows that there are amazing, heroic people in every aspect of society. However, those bright lights are inevitably dimmed or even extinguished by the soul-crushing rules, order, and self-preservation that is promoted by the very systems we've put in place to ensure our safety, education, and pursuit of happiness. The amazing thing is how The Wire juxtaposes legal, government bureaucracy with organized crime and shows that a drug lord manages the same leadership challenges, petty jealousies, and nagging constituencies that a big-city mayor must face.
If you haven't already, you should rent this show from the beginning. Please don't give up on it after an episode or two. This is one of those great contributions to the cannon of works that are uniquely American, the t.v. equivalent of The Great Gatsby or The Godfather.
I'll end with the touching re-imagining of Margaret Wise Brown's "Goodnight, Moon," as told by incorruptible detective Kima Greggs to her son, Elijah:
Goodnight moon
Goodnight stars
Goodnight po-pos
Goodnight fiends
Goodnight hoppers
Goodnight hustlers
Goodnight scammers
Goodnight to everybody
Goodnight to one and all.
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