Revising seventeenth century essayists for the better

My friend, Shep, sent me this quote, which he liked a lot: Life is a tragedy for those who feel, and a comedy for those who think. -Jean de la Bruyere, essayist and moralist (1645-1696)

I liked it, too, but in my ever-present mission to get a quote in Bartlett's Book of Familiar Quotations, I revised the quote to something I think is even better:

Life is tragedy for optimists, comedy for realists, and reality for pessimists. - Matthew Dicks, novelist and curmudgeon (1971-present)

Yes, I rewrote a quote from a seventeenth century essayist.

No, I made it better.

As such, I have added it to the list that the editors of Bartlett's should be considering closely. _______________________________________

1. Brevity is the sou

2. Lost potential is impossible to measure and convenient to ignore.

3. I wrote term papers as a means of flirting with girls.

4. In my most treasured friendships, there is little room for hurt feelings.

5. Ambiguity in the possible death of a character is an act of cowardice on the writer’s part.

6. Most of my time in bed is spent struggling to stay alive.

7. Don’t let anyone fool you. Death is hardest on the dead.

8. Passive-aggressive, indirect, and anonymous are three of my least favorite forms of communication.

9. Nothing convinces me more about the stupidity of human beings than driving in the vicinity of the mall on a Saturday afternoon.

10. I am more impressed with the quality of a person’s questions than with the quality of their answers.

11. It is all about me, but you’re welcome to occupy space.

12. Spock said that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, but what if the many are incredibly stupid?

13. You can determine the effectiveness of a teacher by the frequency by which you can enter the classroom and speak to the teacher without grinding learning to a halt.

14. If you are not delegating enough, you are not lazy enough.

15.  Life is tragedy for optimists, comedy for realists, and reality for pessimists.

Our own little sweatshop

While I was mowing the lawn, my wife made a skirt for my daughter.

A skirt. 

Sure, it takes a long time to write a novel, and it requires a modicum of creativity and skill. 

But she made a skirt. 

Just whipped it out like it was nothing.  Then she made two more.

And another as a gift.

I don’t know why we ever need to buy clothing again. 

Once is fine. But this is a pattern of stupidity.

I’m almost finished reading Those Guys Have All the Fun: Inside the World of ESPN. Amongst the many controversies cited in the book is Jemele Hill’s regrettable reference to Hitler in a 2008 editorial about the NBA playoffs. In describing why she could not support the Celtics in the NBA playoffs, she wrote:

Rooting for the Celtics is like saying Hitler was a victim. It's like hoping Gorbachev would get to the blinking red button before Reagan. Deserving or not, I still hate the Celtics.

For her comments, Hill was suspended for a week without pay.

At first I felt bad for Hill, understanding how her comment, while lacking nuance, was not meant to offend. As a fan of the Detroit Pistons, she was merely pointing out that once you hate a sports team like the Celtics because of the affinity you have for your team, it is impossible to ever alter your position.

As I told a friend, it’s probably a good idea to avoid referencing Hitler in all metaphors, particularly if you are in the media.

At least to avoid Godwin’s Law.

Then I went to her Wikipedia page to see what Hill has done since the controversy.

Under the heading of Controversy was this:

In 2009, Hill was at the center of a controversy after telling Green Bay Packers fans to give Brett Favre the "Duracell treatment," implying that fans at Lambeau Field should throw batteries at the former Packer quarterback.

Later in 2009, Hill once again was reprimanded for her comments after comparing University of Kentucky Wildcats men's basketball coach John Calipari to Charles Manson. She later apologized to the university.

Suddenly, I stopped feeling bad for her.

One well-intentioned miscue?  Fine.

But encouraging fans to throw batteries at an NFL quarterback?

And comparing a college basketball coach to Charles Manson?

With the thousands of resumes that ESPN receives every year, I cannot imagine why she is still with the company.

Unforgettable duet

Tonight I put my daughter to bed on my own.  She asked me to sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

I started singing, and then she joined me. 

A first. 

We sang the whole thing together. 

I’m writing it down now so I won’t forget this moment, but I suspect that it won’t be necessary. 

The world is a strange, strange place

Things like this remind me of how little we perceive of our world:

Look! Another politician can’t simply admit to making a historical mistake.

As I’ve said before, I’m not happy when lawmakers make simple historical blunders, but I can live with them. Nobody’s perfect.

It’s the refusal to admit that you have made a mistake that I cannot stand, and it only serves to make the initial mistake even worse.

Today’s case in point:

In an attempt to explain away her claim that the founding fathers worked tirelessly to end slavery (even though many of them owned slaves), Michele Bachmann attempts to lump our sixth President, abolitionist John Quincy Adams, into the group of founding fathers, even though he was nine years old at the time that the Declaration of Independence was written and a twenty year old college student at the time of the writing and adoption of the US Constitution.

Congratulations, Michele. You just made yourself look even more idiotic.

Just say, “Yup, I screwed up,” and move on. Admit your mistake and it will be forgotten in a day or two.

Otherwise your Good Morning America interview will go viral, thousands of bloggers write about your blunder-to-explain-a-blunder, and the story continues.

Honestly, who are advising these morons?

I walk like a duck. And perhaps it’s how I should be playing golf, too. And maybe I should just quit.

I was playing golf with friends yesterday when one of them, a longtime friend and colleague who plays well and has taught me a great deal about the game, said, “I’ve been watching your feet. The way they impact your game.” “And?”

“Most people walk with their feet pointed straight ahead,” she said. “But you walk like a duck, with your feet pointed out. But when you go to hit the ball, you straighten our your feet, which would be normal if you didn’t walk like a duck.”

“Are you saying I should stand like a duck when I hit the ball?” I asked.

“Yeah. Like you normally stand.”

My fellow players found this extremely amusing. One suggested I also quack like a duck when I hit the ball as well.

I punched him.

It’s true that I walk like a duck, though I didn’t realize it was so universally known. For years, I played the bass drum in our high school’s marching band, and in order to avoid being blown over by the wind, I hard to turn my feet outward to steady myself. Otherwise the drum would’ve act like a sail and the wind would’ve knock me over.

Sadly, this foot position eventually became ingrained, and it’s still how I walk today.

And apparently how I should be playing golf.

I may have to quit the game.

Five rules to guarantee a successful the public marriage proposal

I just watched three of the most gut-wrenching failed public marriage proposals ever. The most cringe-worthy moments you could ever imagine. For your enjoyment, I have posted them (along with one of the best public marriage proposals of all time) below.

As a veteran of a successful public marriage proposal, please allow me to offer a few simple rules in order to ensure that your public proposal does not end as tragically as it did for these gentlemen.

 

1. If you are nervous about proposing to your girlfriend, you should not be attempting a public marriage proposal. You probably shouldn’t be proposing marriage at all if you are nervous, but if you must, do so privately.

2. Though you will be framing your proposal in the form of a question, this should be a formality rather than a genuine request. You should be 100% certain of your girlfriend’s answer before attempting the public marriage proposal. This probably means that you have discussed the possibility of marriage with your girlfriend beforehand and even checked with her closest friends to ensure that she will be amenable to the offer.

3. If you are someone who does not speak effectively in public, do not attempt the public marriage proposal. Most women would prefer a heartfelt, well spoken, private moment to a stilted, sweaty, semi-articulate public proposal.

4. The public marriage proposal is not the time to try new things. If you are not a professional singer, do not attempt to sing during your proposal.  If you are not a poet, do not propose via verse. You are asking a woman to marry you.  Not some new, amateur version of yourself.

5. Most important, remember that you are also jeopardizing your girlfriend’s feelings and dignity when attempting the public marriage proposal. Placing a girl in the position of having to walk away from a man on bended knee in front of an audience is unnecessarily cruel and tragically stupid, so this is not the time for any fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants risk-taking. You are not the only one who can get hurt by a failed marriage proposal. Act with appropriate prudence.

These men did not:

And now, I give you one of the greatest public marriage proposal of all time:

The stupidest simile in the whole wide world

Without question, the stupidest simile in the history of similes is drunk as a skunk.

It is a simile not based upon meaning but simply upon rhyme.

Skunks have absolutely nothing to do with alcohol consumption or inebriation.

Skunk and drunk rhyme.  That is the extent of the simile.

That makes it incredibly stupid.

As stupid as:

Big as a twig

As sad as glad

As nice as an improvised explosive device

Except these aren’t universally utilized similes.

Drunk as a skunk is.

Please help me put an end to it.

The celebratory graduation bedsheet has gone too far

Sometimes I get unnecessarily annoyed, so this could admittedly be one of those occasions. But I don’t think so.

Ever since the beginning of June, the Connecticut landscape has exploded with painted bed sheets congratulating recent high school graduates on their achievements. Hanging on fences, across bridges, and and between trees and poles, these sheets are everywhere, and I can’t help but feel that:

1. The world was a much better looking place without them
2. Graduation celebrations were hardly wanting before the advent of the celebratory sheet
3. We may be overvaluing the high school diploma

    

Far be it for me to underscore the value of education, but in my mind, a high school diploma is the expectation for every young person.

It is a student’s job.

In return for housing and food and clothing, a kid is supposed to get an education in order to become self-sufficient and self-sustaining, and while graduation is a time for celebration, I’m not entirely sure that it is sheet-worthy.

After all, I have to assume that some of these sheets are congratulating lazy, talent-wasting kids whose GPAs are well below the Mendoza line.

Could we at least establish a sheet worthy criteria, because based upon what I have seen over the past two weeks, every kid in town has a celebratory sheet.

I also worry about the inevitably expanding nature of such public celebrations. While ranting about these sheets recently, a friend called me a curmudgeon and suggested that I “get over it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with celebrating a lifetime of academic achievement,” he said.

“Sure,” I agreed. “Celebrate." But do we have to hang bed sheets all over town? What happened to a handshake and a party? Even a gift is fine.  But a sheet? It strikes me as a game of one-upmanship by a bunch of parents with too much time on their hands.

You watch. This is just the beginning.

An hour later after this conversation, I drove past a sheet celebrating a student’s graduation from sixth grade.

Sixth grade.

As my wife said, every grade until high school is practically an automatic pass.

Graduating from sixth grade is akin to potty training.

Everyone does it.

But what began as the draping of sheets across bridge abutments has now expanded to the draping of sheets all over town, including some of the most prime real estate available.

And now we have sheets for kids who have survived middle school.

What’s next?

Elementary school? Pre-school? GEDs?

Will we have bed sheets congratulating children on their green belt in karate? Their most recent Boy Scout merit badge? Are parents going to start hanging sheets when their kid wins a soccer tournament?

A school raffle?

How about when their kid finally finished War and Peace?

Congratulations, Jimmy! Tolstoy would be proud! We are, too!

Don’t laugh. It could happen if we don’t do something to stop this insanity.

I was at dinner with a like-minded friend last night, explaining the situation in detail, and he liked my proposed solution to the recent celebratory sheet proliferation:

Vandalism

Spray-paint all the celebratory sheets in the area with messages like:

So what?

Big deal.

This was meant for sleeping, moron.

Unfortunately, our wives overheard our conversation, and Elysha asked me not to do it. One of the very few times in our relationship that she asked me to refrain from something.

So I might not.

But I’m still considering it.

Blessed innocence

I was reading an extremely abbreviated version of The Little Mermaid to my daughter last night when we came upon this last page. 

As I pondered what I might say about the adjoining picture, Clara said, “Look, Daddy. Ariel sleeping. Eric sleeping. Eyes closed.”

“Yes, Clara,” I said, quickly trying to reinforce the idea.  “You’re right.  They are sleeping.  Good girl!”

I know it won’t last long, but I’ll take every speck of innocence that I can get.

 

Greatest turnaround of all-time

My alarm fired off this morning at 5:00. 

I opened my eyes and began mentally preparing for work. 

Lesson plans.
Homework assignments.
Leveled texts. 
Motivational strategies.

Then I suddenly realized that it was Sunday.

A day off.

And my alarm was going off because I was scheduled to play an early morning round of golf.

Even better!

And then I realized that it was June 26th. 

Summer vacation.

No lesson plans, no homework assignments, no leveled texts and no motivational strategies for TWO MONTHS!

In those ten fleeting seconds,I experienced the greatest emotional swing of my life.

What not to wear

I almost always hate when someone tells me what I can and cannot wear. Part of it is the five year old in me, refusing to be told what to do.

But an even bigger part of it is the illogical and arbitrary nature of many of the dress codes and social mores associated with clothing, as well as the position of power that these arbiters of fashion attempt to assume.

In our world, social power tends to reside with judgmental pricks who invest heavily in conformity and price.

I hate this.

A couple weeks ago, The Boston Globe posted a piece entitled Eight summer workplace wardrobe no-nos.

Here are my thoughts on their profundity:

1.  Sheer or see-through clothing

This is not a summer no-no.  This is a lifetime no-no.  Until social mores relax to the standard of an Amazonian National Geographic photo shoot, this one seems fairly obvious.

There are actually state and federal laws governing the wearing of see-through clothing in public.

I may not like it, but I can live with this.

2.  Flip-flops, sneakers, and sandals

This is stupid. While there are certain instances where flip-flops and sandals may pose safety hazards, there is no situation in which a pair of sneakers are inappropriate. Sneakers are generally the most comfortable, most versatile, most foot-healthy choice of footwear available, and to think that wearing sneakers in any way impedes with the effectiveness or professionalism of a worker is foolish.

Old people and stupid people think that sneakers are inappropriate at work.

Sadly, these tend to be the people in charge.

3.  Midriff-baring shirts or low-cut pants

Again, prohibitions against clothing that exposes certain parts of the body that are expected to be covered are fine with me. While I wish that society was more relaxed when it comes to these expectations, this is not the case.

Proposing that butt-cracks and bellies be covered at work is not exactly Earth-shattering either.

4.  Sundresses

My initial thought that was there is nothing wrong with a sundress, but the author goes on to write:

“Light and airy dresses might fit the weather, but they can also be problematic, especially if they're sheer or linen.”

In other words, if you can see through the dress, it’s not appropriate.

See rule #1.

But if the sundress is made of an opaque material, I have no problem with it. Again, cover the requisite body parts and you can wear whatever dress you want.

5.  T-shirts

There is nothing wrong with a t-shirt. The idea that a collar, long sleeves and a series of buttons stretching from neck to crotch somehow imbue an outfit with professionalism and esteem is an old fashioned and stupid belief.

It is possibly the stupidest, non-religious belief known to man.

6.  Shorts

As long as women are wearing dresses to work (and I have no problem with them doing so), men (and women) should be allowed to wear shorts so long as they are appropriately sized. Once again, to think otherwise is discriminatory, sexist, and most important, stupid. It hearkens back to a time when every man wore a hat and smoking was permitted in the office.

7.  Wide-open shirts

This also fits into the category of exposing certain aspects of the body that society has dictated remain covered.

While I appreciate cleavage as much as the next guy, I can live with this.

8.  Tight-fitting outfits

This last no-no fits squarely in the category of “No duh” and “Congratulations, Captain Obvious.”

Way to go out on a limb here, Boston Globe.

How much television do you watch?

From a Time magazine piece:

“Dr. Frank Hu of the Harvard School of Public Health and his colleagues report in the Journal of the American Medical Association that too much TV time was associated with increases in the risk of developing type 2 diabetes and heart problems and the risk of death from any cause.”

But this was kind of obvious. Right? Sit on your ass for a long period of time, day after day, and you have a greater chance of dying.

The more shocking part of this study, at least for me, was this:

The average American watches about five hours of television a day.

Five hours.

What the hell are these people watching?

And where do they find the time?

There are many, many days when my wife and I don't have time to watch television at all, and we enjoy TV. Last week we didn't turn on the television for four consecutive days.

For the average American, we would’ve just reclaimed 20 hours of our lives.

And they could stand to use those hours.

According to a recent survey conducted by the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development, Americans sleep an average of 8.5 hours per night.

The average American works just under 8 hours a day.

This means that if you combine work, sleep and television, the average American only has about 3 hours left in the day to do everything else.

Three hours for eating, commuting, exercising, reading, bathing, chores, and sex.

Three hours that is not spent at work, in bed or in front of the television.

But even more pertinent than this astounding number:

What the hell are these people watching?

There simply cannot be 35 hours of worthwhile programming to watch per week.

Right?

Should my students be allowed to make fun of me online?

Time magazine asks: Do students have a First Amendment right to make fun of their principals and teachers on Facebook and other social-media sites?  Or can schools discipline them for talking out of school?

This question comes in reaction to two court rulings supporting the right to free speech for students. In both cases, the court said that schools were wrong to suspend students for posting parodies of their principals on MySpace — one in which a boy made fun of his principal's body size and another in which a girl made lewd sexual comments about her principal.

Both actions took place outside of school and failed to "materially and substantially interfere with the requirements of appropriate discipline in the operation of the school," the standard set by the Supreme Court in the 1969 landmark case of Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School District, in which students’ right to wear a black armbands in protest of the Vietnam War was upheld by the Court.

I tend to agree with the court in these matters. The First Amendment does not stop at the schoolhouse door, and speech taking place off school grounds that does not significantly impair learning in school should be permitted.

My question is this:

Are these students subject to defamation and libel claims made by principals and teachers whose reputations have been unfairly impugned?

Having been in a similar position at one point in my life at the hands of an anonymous, non-student source, I fully understand the power of purposely manipulated, unmitigated speech, particularly when it originates from a source too cowardly to claim ownership but brazen enough to spread the word far and wide.

I support the First Amendment and a student’s right to speak, but when the speech is blatantly false and results in damage to a teacher’s reputation, I believe that a teacher has a right to legal recourse.

This is why laws relating to defamation of character and libel exist.

Unfortunately, in my case, there was no recourse since the libel was perpetrated by an anonymous source.

But when a students creates a video that falsely claims that his high school principal has made inappropriate sexual advances towards students, shouldn’t that principal be provided with the opportunity for legal recourse if it can be proven that his reputation has been unfairly and irreparably damaged?

Shouldn’t students be held accountable for the damage that they do?

A teacher’s reputation is his most valuable asset. It can mean the key factor in establishing positive, productive relationships with students and parents. When students, parents and the community implicitly trust an educator because of the reputation that he or she has earned, learning is invariably accelerated in the classroom and a teacher’s career outlook is improved considerably.

To allow students to damage that reputation and only suffer a parental punishment seems wrong to me.

While I would not want students suspended for exercising their right to free speech off campus, I would like them to be made aware of the consequences that can result from that speech when it is baseless and purposely destructive.

When actual damage is done to a teacher’s reputation, a teacher should have legal recourse.

While I cannot imagine suing a student or his or her family for a purposely false and intentionally destructive YouTube video, we cannot allow a system to exist in which students are permitted to say whatever they want about a teacher and the teacher is not afforded the same protection that the legal system provides for people outside the schoolhouse.

Stop writing me off

Why is everyone so anxious to write me off? I describe my knee pain to a friend, and he tells me that my days of playing basketball are almost over.

Elysha gets pregnant, and I am told that we won’t be going out to movies for at least ten years.

Clara is born and I am told that my chances of a goodnight’s sleep in the foreseeable future are nil.

I complain about how difficult it was to install four air conditioners on a hot, Sunday afternoon, and I am warned that I won’t be able to lift air conditioners on my own for much longer.

I'm bleary-eyed after arriving home at 4:00 in the morning following a Monday night football game and then arriving at work a couple hours later and am told that my ability to pull an all-nighter is short-lived.

I bemoan the number of toys scattered throughout my living room and am told that my house won’t be clean again for years now that I have a child.

Why is everyone so goddamn anxious to predict the same doom and gloom that has apparently befallen them?

For a long time, I’d say something like, “We’ll see…” or “I hope not.”

But as I’ve gotten older, these warnings have become so prevalent that I can no longer hold my tongue. A couple weeks ago I was suffering from a fever and sore throat and was warned by a coworker that “You’re days of bouncing back quickly from illness are probably over.”

Rather than offering an amused smile, I let her have it.

“Why would you say that to me? I’m sitting here with a fever and a sore throat and you find it necessary to tell me how ill equipped my body is to fight off infection now that I’m older? Please don’t assume that just because your body is failing you that my body is going to start failing me.”

She didn’t take it well. She’s a sweet woman who probably didn’t deserve my vitriol, but perhaps she’ll think twice before writing me off again.

My worst teaching mistake ever

While I am certain that I have made more mistakes than I can possibly remember, one mistake stands above all others in the pantheon of errors: After promising my third graders a treat for a job well done, I substituted the popsicles that I had promised with what I thought was an equally appetizing alternative:

A box of Sun-Maid raisins.

For reasons that I can no longer fathom, I thought that dried grapes were healthier than popsicles and just as tasty.

Never before have I been more despised by a group of people, and that is saying a lot considering my history.

Some of the kids tossed them into the trash without ever opening the box.

Others publicly traded their raisins for balls of crumpled paper, broken crayons and eraser nubs just to make me feel bad.

I swear that one kid almost cried.

Those kids eventually found their way to loving me again, but they never forgave me.

A clever manipulation of bathroom reading material

Is this real?

Please be real.

Perhaps the Girl Scouts don’t need me after all

Around this time last year I wrote a post about how I would like to change the Girl Scouts, and it received quite a response, both from women who despised their Girl Scout experience as well as those who found my criticism to be narrow-minded and unfounded.

While I still believe in what I wrote, I am willing to acknowledge that the hyperbole used in writing that post was unnecessary and foolish. 

And it turns out that I may not be needed after all. 

Girl Scouts Madison Vorva and Rhiannon Tomtishen have done a damn fine job of forcing change on their own by boycotting the sale of Girl Scout cookies and convincing others to do the same until palm oil, an ingredient that contributes to deforestation and endangers the habitats of animals like orangutans, is removed from the cookies altogether.

“Initially, Girls Scouts of USA mostly ignored Vorva and Tomtishen's criticisms. After the girls' area council leader contacted the national leadership, the teenagers were granted a conference call to plead their case in 2008-but as Vorva puts it, "they mostly talked at us." The issue flared up again recently after the organization moved to restrict comments on their Facebook page, deleting messages that had called for the group to stop using palm oil as part of a social network day of action.”

“Girl Scouts of the USA is finally beginning to listen. Last week Vorva and Tomtishen had a two-hour meeting at the organization's national headquarters in New York City, and the group agreed to research palm oil to see if they can get more of the ingredient sustainably, or replace it.”

And until they do, Madison Vorva and Rhiannon Tomtishen have pledged to continue applying pressure to the organization in every way that they can.

That includes continuing to boycott those damn cookies. 

Ideally, I’d still like the Girl Scouts to stop pretending that this $700 million dollar cookie bonanza is an education opportunity that teaches girls about such buzzwords as finance, communication, organization, and teamwork.    

Simply acknowledge that for a couple months every year, in order to fund their organization, little girls and their mothers are converted into an inexpensive sales and distribution system for a large-scale food company.

A little honesty can go a long way.

But what Madison Vorva and Rhiannon Tomtishen are doing is a start, and it is a good reminder that sometimes the best way to change an organization is from within, using grassroots methodology. 

Having an ogre like me pounding on the door, demanding that they meet every one of my demands, is not always so effective.

Sucks to be a Sprite drinker

Sprite apparently has a new flavor.

I am not a Sprite drinker, but I can’t help but wonder what this “new flavor!” moniker is meant to tell the consumer.

Good news, Sprite drinkers!  The crap that you’ve been drinking for years has finally gotten better!

Or…

If you avoided Sprite in the past because it tastes like cough syrup, why not give it another try?  We have a brand new cough syrupy flavor! 

Either way, it seems like the complete opposite of brand loyalty.