LOL

I remember falling in love with Woody Allen a long time ago; I think it was when I saw Sleeper. When he later proved himself to be a total perv, I kicked him to the curb as boyfriend material, but I still think he's funny. Today, the New York Times quoted this quintessential Allen joke from his book, Getting Even:

A man in asks his uncle, “Could it not be simply that we are alone and aimless, doomed to wander in an indifferent universe, with no hope of salvation, nor any prospect except misery, death, and the empty reality of eternal nothing?”
The uncle replies, “You wonder why you’re not invited to more parties.”

I lol-ed. Ever feel like this guy? Sometimes I do, but I've learned to keep questions like this to myself, cuz I need all the party invites I can get.

An old boyfriend and I used to joke about the Annie Hall scene from which this quote is taken:

Alvy Singer: Here, you look like a very happy couple, um, are you?
Female street stranger: Yeah.
Alvy Singer: Yeah? So, so, how do you account for it?
Female street stranger: Uh, I'm very shallow and empty and I have no ideas and nothing interesting to say.
Male street stranger: And I'm exactly the same way.
Alvy Singer: I see. Wow. That's very interesting. So you've managed to work out something?

The people Alvy's talking to in this scene are both thin, blonde, perfectly groomed, and dressed in the latest styles. I think we laughed because we weren't. Ever. But we thought we had a lot of other things going for us...like the tendancy to pose depressing, existential questions. Come to think of it, we didn't get invited to many parties either...

Bah!- Another obnoxious forward

I'm back to complaining about the email forwards I often get from people who like to share their views with me, unsolicited. If you have been reading my blog, you will remember that I complained about one recently, in which immigrants were demonized. Here's another one from my inbox today. A "sweet" story about a child and his/her dog:

A dog had followed his owner to school. His owner was a
fourth grader at a public elementary school. However,
when the bell rang, the dog sidled inside the building and
made it all the way to the child's classroom before a
teacher noticed and shoo'ed him outside, closing the
door behind him. The dog sat down, whimpered and
stared at the closed doors. Then God appeared beside
the dog, patted his head, and said, "Don't feel bad fella'....
they won't let ME in either."

Where do people who send these types of messages get the idea that God isn’t allowed in school? I work in a public school where kids openly express their faith and beliefs all the time, posters in the halls announce the activities of Christian youth groups, and there is even “prayer at the pole,” in which a group of very committed Christian students occasionally gather at the flag pole before school to pray. Granted, these expressions and demonstrations are only Christian, but isn’t that, after all, the “God” to which this little story refers? And that’s what bothers me. I know the people who send these kinds of messages believe theirs is the one true religion, but for the 67% of the world’s total population who do not, the least they could do is be honest.

How about substituting the word Christ for God in these emails, and how about admitting that what they want are public schools where Christianity, not God, is “let in”? What kind of outcry would come from the person who sent me the story above if Buddhism, Scientology, or Islam was "let in" in the way she wants Christianity to be "let in" ?

News flash: One of the founding principles of this country is that no specific religion may be sponsored by the state. Why don’t some people get it? There is no prohibition on believers expressing themselves in public, and that includes public schools; a believer from any religion has an equal right to legal forms of expression, but a public school can’t promote Christianity or any other faith. Students can pray all they want, or speak and write about God, but teachers (and others in charge at school) can’t show a preference for a particular belief or make statements to suggest one particular religion is true and the others are false. And that includes Christianity, and I’m fine with that.

To me, sending these veiled pro-Christian messages either shows an ignorance of the law or promotes exactly the kind of rabid, exclusive religiosity that is the source of...terror. You know, Terror, that thing we have all come to fear? If you want your child to be in a “religious” school, fork over the tuition dollars to send him/her there. Cuz this is America. Those who say God is not "let in" at school might want to check into the laws of the land to which they pledge their allegiance, and to use the vernacular of many of those who promote this attitude of exclusivity in America, “Love it or Leave it.”

Opera in the Moooovies

Speaking of opera, remember this scene from Philadelphia? One of my favorites from all of moviedom:

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(Don'tcha just love youtube?!?!? What a wonderful thing on the internets!)

I've listened to this aria without Tom Hanks' character's narraration, and it wasn't as moving. It's the combination of the story (this character's story, and the story he tells us from the opera), the way the scene is shot, and the music that makes it sublime.

I've never seen an opera live. One of those things I mean to do before I meet my "morta."

New Boyfriend

Here's something that will lift your spirits. Isn't the human voice capable of making the most beautiful music, more beautiful than any manufactured instrument? Paul Potts will make you a believer. This guy just won Britain's Got Talent. I think there's a similar show here called America's Got Talent and I hope I don't have this confused with Pop Idol/American Idol or one of those other t.v. talent shows. Anyway, Mr. Potts, who works for a cell phone company and has always loved to sing, just won the competition. The way the clip is produced is a little on the cheesey side, but it has the best sound quality I could find.



I'm a sucker for beautifully sung opera. It always brings me to tears, and this was no exception. I'm no opera oficionado, but I am familiar with this aria and love it. It's from Puccini's Turandot and is called "Nessen Dorma." There's something about this man's humble demeanor that adds to the charm of his performance.

Brian Lamb just lost his spot as my boyfriend. I hope he isn't too heartbroken.

In case you're interested, here's the great Pavarotti singing the same aria.
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Considering the years of training and professional practice Pavarotti has on him at the time of this recording, I'd say Paul Potts' performance is pdg. You?

Iowa roots and Father's Day

I think there's a perception that the midwest is the midwest and there isn't a great deal of difference between the states in flyover country, but this just isn't true. My part of Minnesota, an hour's drive north of Minneapolis, is rural, but the topography is less conducive to large farms and is usually left in a more natural state for homes on acreages or hobby farms. The land is carved up into smaller plots, with a few acres of beans or corn here and there among the small lakes and marshy areas. I've just returned from driving straight down I-35 into the heart of Iowa, and the land there is farmland like none other.

When I was a kid growing up in Iowa, farms were smaller, and the scenery was dotted with the barns and silos of farmsteads that were four or more to a square mile.I always loved looking out over that Iowa countryside, and I remember visiting those farms with my dad as I rode along on his route selling and servicing milking equipment. Nearly every farm had some cows to milk, but that's no longer the case, and farms have gotten much larger, resulting in fewer homes and views of miles of uninterrupted crops. This time, in particular, I was struck by the flatness of it, and oh, the green! Shades of green, rather actual topography, is what provides the relief in the landscape of central Iowa. There's a beauty there I sometimes think one has to have lived with in order to appreciate; only Nebraska tops Iowa in the contest for the number of disparaging remarks made about the lack of scenery its highways provide.

It was hot; the temperature as I drove up I-35 was over 90 degrees. I recalled my dad never complaining much about the summer heat, saying hot weather was good for the corn-- knee high by the fourth of July and all that. Although now, if corn is only knee high by July 4, a farmer worries about crop failure. I wondered what my dad would think if he were here to see the way countryside has changed due to corporate farming and the use of highly engineered seed, chemicals, and fertilizers. I thought about how being my father's daughter, growing up in Iowa, provides a unique persepective as the Iowa summer landscape rolled by on this Father's Day.

School's Out

Thursday was the last day of school with kids, and Friday was the teachers' last day of the year that was 06/07. My friend Heidi told me about one particular "last day" for her when she was teaching, in which she simply swept everything off the top of her desk into a drawer and called it done. It was close to that for me. I opened cabinets, stood back to look for holes in the disorganization inside, and stuffed those holes full of things that needed to be stored.

We do a barbeque on the last day, followed by a year-end program. A chicken hat was made for our principal, to honor his diving for a chicken let loose in the school by our departing seniors. Cambridge likes to think of itself as a bedroom community of the twin cities, but I say any town in which a chicken is let loose in school is rural, no matter how you slice it.

Tomorrow I will attend graduation and then...let the summer begin!

Day-oh

Teachers are generally sensitive people, or people people; whatever they are, I'm one of them, and today was a day that made me wonder why. This is unusual because most days I know exactly why I am one. Having been one for about seven years now, I can remember what it was like to work in the world where a vacation was two weeks, three tops, and almost never all at once. So why is it that I now feel like I'd have to quit my job (and quitting my job is something I have NO business doing) if I wasn't four days away from a 10-week respite? Perhaps because it's all relative.

I am remembering some advice given to me by a teacher who was teaching me to teach. She said something like:
Teaching is the most rewarding, exasperating job there is. Sometimes, at the end of a terrible day, all we can do is know we do our best, and leave it at that. And teachers don't get permission to "leave it at that." So, once in awhile, give yourself permission and screw the rest of it.

I've spent the entire evening screwing the rest of it, and it has helped a little.

Or, as my friend Mary told me at around 4 p.m.:
Go home; take a shower and wash off the day.

I took a shower as soon as I got home. I even went so far as to watch the water run off my body and down the drain.

Or, as my friend Nancy said when I was gushing about a wonderful class of creative writers I was teaching:
Enjoy it, Rox. Really enjoy it, because you know it isn't always like this.

I did enjoy it. I only wish I could have bottled it, as I could use about a gallon of that tonic before I put myself to bed tonight.

Let's see if I can manage to end on a lighter note-
Props to teachers and to teaching... with its long summer vacation.