Guess who got a new toy for Mother’s Day?
Bricklyn’s hottest movie star, Minne Figure, arriving at the world premiere showing of her latest feature, “Three Clicks & A Snap”
Discussing his day at school yesterday, my young son described a judo-based maneuver he employed while wrestling with friends:
“First, I grabbed his offendages…”
In the Venn Diagram of physical altercations, I’d say these reside in the intersection between appendages and the offense created by one’s actions.
The kid has a way with words!
Apropos of nothing else I’ve ever posted, today I feel compelled to share the most explosive tale from Oregon history. It took place in 1970—before my time—but it occurred in a little beach town where my parents later lived and my father worked in city government.
Florence, Oregon 2011. The cute downtown area, sans whale carcasses.
Thank heavens he wasn’t employed by the City of Florence in November, 1970. At least in this case, the blame is pretty easy to place squarely with the state highway division instead of City Hall, though you might be surprised how rarely that stops complaints from coming in.
A nice rendition of the whole story can be found here. If you just want the highlights, here’s a cartoon version.
Willing to view for yourself the great Oregon coast whale explosion? Here’s unabridged news footage from KATU-TV.
What brought this story to mind was a news item this morning: a forty foot long, rotting aquatic animal corpse has washed ashore in Indonesia. Is it a giant squid? A whale? Experts are taking meat samples (ugh!) and locals are snapping selfies they can show their doctors later when they develop rotting-meat related diseases.
Here’s hoping they elect to clean up the Indonesian carcass with something other than 20 cases of dynamite. Unless, that is, they are looking forward to blobs of blubber raining from the sky.
Still looking for more on this topic? You’re a little sick, but try:
Wikipedia on this, and other, exploding whales
The Exploding Whale site including factual and artistic explorations of the topic
I’d like to talk about a song that I consider my parenting anthem:
If you enjoy indie folk music, you should definitely give it a listen. For those with different musical tastes, just read the lyrics and follow along.
“Teenagers, Kick Our Butts” is track 6 on Dar Williams’ album End of the Summer
Some of the song’s lessons apply to raising kids well before the teenage years. I’ve been playing it in the car since my boys were little, and I’ve always pointed out certain lyrics, making clear these were sentiments with which I agree.
…I’m sure you know there’s lots to learn
But that’s not your fault, that’s just your turn, yeah, yeah……Find your voice, do what it takes
Make sure you make lots of mistakes…
Beginning this conversation when they were young was meant to pave the way for the impending struggles of adolescence. I wanted them to know that I was aware of the future when they would reject my authority, and that some of that was not just tolerated, but to be celebrated.
…Teenagers, kick our butts, tell us what the future will bring
Teenagers look at us, we have not solved everythingWe drink and smoke to numb our pain
We read junk novels on the plane
We use authority for show so we can be a little smarter
We still can grow, and many do
It’s when we stop we can’t reach you
We feel the loss, you feel the blame
We’re scared to lose, don’t be the same, hey hey…
I talked to my little boys about the older kids they knew: young teens from school, older cousins, and family friends. I tried to point out gallant gestures made by gentle young men, and raise questions about the motivations of more rowdyish examples.
…Some felt afraid and undefended, so they got mean
And they pretended what they knew made them belong more than you….…I’m here today because I fought for what I felt and what I thought
They put me down they, were just wrong
And now it’s they who don’t belong, oh, oh…
Lately, as I’ve discussed with my own teen the popularity and value of a contentious novel revolving around a girl’s tragic suicide, I’ve been able to point back at a well-known verse from the same old favorite:
…And when the media tries to act your age
Don’t be seduced, they’re full of rage…
I adore seeing this pointed out so succinctly.
New Media can be a legitimate forum for the formerly disenfranchised (e.g., youth), but it’s equally true that most of what achieves popularity gets bought out by the same old media cartels. Consumers of media must learn to be exceedingly critical of every source lest they inadvertently find themselves dancing to the tune of an unknown, objectionable master.
And what’s the alternative to blindly consuming pap that’s been prepared for you? Some people never learn to peek behind the curtain and discover the humbug working distracting magic tricks in the name of the Wizard. Here’s an answer by way of my favorite lyric again, this time expanded for the audience approaching maturity:
…Find your voice, do what it takes
Make sure you make lots of mistakes
And find the future that redeems
Give us hell, give us dreams
And grow and grow and growAnd someday when some teenagers come to kick your butts
Well then like I do try to
Love…
The funny thing is, I’ve always heard that final lyric differently. Williams sings it in a set of long, drawn out syllables rising up and down the octave, obscuring the simple word “love.” When I sing it, I’ve always twisted those same notes into the word:
“Learn”
I’d like my kids to discover the value in both lessons.
I’ve noticed that I often bring up in conversation one or more of the fascinating books I’ve been reading lately, only to fail utterly at recalling titles or authors’ names. I’ll take this opportunity to at least have a handy reference available for anyone who cares to follow up on something I’ve said.
Just check my blog!
Poor economics : a radical rethinking of the way to fight global poverty by Banerjee, Abhijit V.
The white man’s burden : why the West’s efforts to aid the rest have done so much ill and so little good by Easterly, William
Why nations fail : the origins of power, prosperity, and poverty by Acemoglu, Daron
First German Reader for Cooking: bilingual for speakers of English (Graded German Readers) (Volume 9) by Brant, Adelina
Starting out in German by Living Language (audio CD)
Gödel, Escher, Bach : an eternal golden braid by Hofstadter, Douglas R.
The Egg & I by MacDonald, Betty
The Prize winner of Defiance, Ohio [sound recording] by Ryan, Terry
Apprentice in Death (In Death Series, Book 43) by Robb, J. D.
The Great Passage written by Miura, Shion, translated by Carpenter, Juliet Winters (note: this was a freebie from Amazon for being a Prime member)
Thirteen reasons why by Jay Asher
Reading Notes:Today, I had my eyes dilated at the ophthalmologist’s office, meaning I couldn’t read a word for about four hours and that I’m still hiding from the spring sun behind heavy curtains seven hours later. Ugh.
Please forgive me for any typos. My near vision is still blurry. I wasn’t sure that I would have a chance to post today at all.
Fortunately, I had requested an audiobook from the library this week, so I enjoyed the author’s reading of The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio while covering my tender eyes on the couch.
Also fortunately, the discomfort I’d been experiencing in my eyes, prompting the visit to the doctor, has been diagnosed as simple dry eyes, and not an inflammatory complication of my autoimmune disease. Now that’s a blessing!
I was able to read about a quarter of Thirteen Reasons Why as I waited for my appointment. So far, it strikes me that the video production faithfully captured the tone of the novel. It’s entirely readable, but, at this early stage, I’d say the protagonist (the male, Clay) reads somewhat less compelling than did the actor portraying him.
As for The Egg & I, I’ve been meaning to read this book for years, and it’s got me completely torn. On the one hand, it is a really marvelous, fun read written by an obviously clever author who was clearly born before her time, suffering as a farm housewife when she was constitutionally better suited for a more intellectually stimulating life. I really feel for her. I enjoyed so much of her witty, sarcastic writing.
But the blatant, roaring racism! Oh my word. I read a lot of old books, and am used to making certain allowances for the different standards of earlier eras, but whole segments of this book were grossly, unapologetically offensive. Most of my grandparents were of the same region during the same era, and never did I see or hear any of them express attitudes like MacDonald’s.
I think that stands out so sharply because, otherwise, I feel like I could be friends with this author. She’s someone I’d like to sit down and chat with over a cup of coffee… but heaven forbid she learn that my grandmother claimed her father was a Blackfoot Indian.*
And would my sloppy home meet her standards, or would I be lumped in with poor, aspirational Mrs. Weatherly and her delusions of grandeur? But, rather than classism, it could be the fact that Mr. Weatherly was a [MacDonald’s words!] “dirty Indian” that really made Mrs. Weatherly so disgusting to the author. After all, MacDonald shows obvious affection for Maw and Paw Kettle, who were at least equally slovenly.
*Grandma’s brother claimed their father was a Turk, so don’t take her word for it. I don’t think anyone in the family has factual information about this particular great-grandfather.
reflections in grief
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