I've been in a bit of a writing rut. I know, I know. It is rather early in this experiment to be in a rut, but cut me some slack. There has been a concerted effort to write daily about what are essentially "non-events," but that is a little trickier some days than others. So I have gone back to the basics just like I tell my students to do when they are stuck in the pre-writing stage: brainstorming.
Tossed around topics for include: the employee/cookie policy of at least one local eatery that I frequent, the construction of massive phallic symbols in supposedly "cash-strapped" nations, the very public verbal assault of a certain country that is especially close to my heart by a certain "fair and balanced" talking head who apparently does most of his talking out of a much lower orifice, late night talk show wars with large-chinned has-beens, and natural disasters.
Instead of any of those seemingly enlightening and interesting topics (some of which have a slightly political leaning [and this is a little too early in our relationship for a political diatribe, don't you think?]), I am going to run with my 11th grade American Literature topic for the day. Well, sort of anyway. I teach English because I believe it to be a discipline consisting wholly of ideas (Although many would disagree with me. Unfortunately for those people, they are wrong). Those subjects with "real" answers do not appeal to me. I have always been more of a fan of questions. My lesson today left me questioning my own values a little bit though.
I am going to try my best not to educate anyone with this subject, but I apologize if in your search for entertainment, you actually learn something. So we're talking about modernism. You know, that whole shift to the self-centered idealism that spawned the "me generation" that has in turn excreted such technological marvels as myspace, facebook, twitter, and the like (this list should include blogs, but we all know how wonderful they are, so let's not call them into question just yet). In connection with this, we were discussing (by "we were discussing," I mean I was ranting like a madman while the students stared at me with that whole "deer in the headlights" look) a couple of stories that address the alienation of the individual and the degradation of relationships.
As we muddled through the fog and confusion typical early modern writers and their fruitless attempts at assigning meaning to misery, I quickly realized the void that existed between my students and I. Sure, I can keep up with their pop culture knowledge. I like to think I am one of the hip and happening teachers (although it has been made abundantly clear to me that using the term "hip and happening" is most definitely neither hip nor happening). When the kids suggest that in my free time I check out their website suggestions such as: lolcats.com, loldawgz.com, lolsquirrelz.com, or so help me god, lolrus.com, I check them out and weep silently for the degenerate society that we are creating (But I do laugh a little. Those sites are absurd.). The complexities of relationships that we discussed left me a bit dissatisfied with my seemingly wise and experienced approach.
When you have talked to enough crowds, you can just tell when they are understanding what you have to say and when they are a mixture of confused/annoyed/in extreme disagreement with your view. These kids were definitely the latter. I explained how relationships aren't all their cracked up to be. This may be my stubborn bachelor self coming out, but I try to keep that under control while in school.
I don't pull any punches. My favorite opener is, "Okay, life lesson time." Which today was followed with something akin to "relationships are a lot of work and they usually suck" (definitely paraphrased here). However, I noticed that the students basically all thought I was a lonely, pessimistic, old bastard. Albeit, a hip and happening one. Although they'll never believe me, they are young and inexperienced. They still believe all of the Hollywood lies they have been told about how wonderful and romantic significant others are. The idea of living a life by themselves leaves them scared and saddened. Now before you get all defensive and agree with them, just take a minute to relax. I don't know whether I feel bad for them or envy them. Can you even remember what it is like to exist in a realm such as theirs? I don't know if I want to, but it would be quite the novelty. All I know is there is a chasm. A chasm as deep as any valley you may find that separates their world of naivete from my world of jaded indifference. What I felt is what I would imagine most parents feel for their children (don't go getting all mushy and shit on me now). I would love to be able to explain to them the pitfalls of life. They really aren't going to get it though. I could find literature from the greatest authors. I could explain these concepts in excruciating detail. I could spend an entire school year on these ideas. Aren't these the problems that we all struggle the most with every day? Isn't this what would really help students get somewhere in life? It wouldn't make a difference though. Until they experience it, they'll never learn it. That kind of sucks for them and me, but I guess that is how it goes.
It all leaves me a bit frustrated. If it is impossible for me to get across some of the most important life lessons to these kids, then what is the point? If real learning only happens through living, then are we just keeping them in a state of arrested development? Is there any hope of advancing a civilization when wisdom can only be gained through personal experience? I don't know. It isn't enough to make me throw in the towel on the idea though. I'm a stubborn s.o.b. if anything. I'll keep spitting my version of the truth until some perceptive youth realizes, "Hey, this cat is either on something or onto something. I am just not sure which yet."Here's to hoping there is generation of sarcastic, introspective, intelligent, and stubborn kids out there just waiting for someone to point them in the right direction.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Monday, January 4, 2010
Doggy Death Panels for All?
After spending nine hours teaching, one hour grocery shopping/running errands, two hours napping, and one hour prepping for class, my first thought is I should be at a loss as to what to write. Surely nothing interesting could have happened in such a jam packed day. Oh, but there is the pitfall that leads to viewing life as some mundane, meaningless, waste of time. So let's not do that. Besides, I am sure you are not reading to hear me piss and moan.
So I've got this old dog. We've been together happily for 14 1/2 years (which is much more than I can say for any of my human relationships). As I explained it to my freshmen today though, all relationships with dogs end badly. One of you is going to die before the other (and you really hope it is the dog). I guess that could be said for all relationships, regardless of species. I guess I wouldn't carry this argument over to humans. The logic holds, just don't do it. It won't yield anything remotely positive or hopeful. Either way, chances are that your dog is going to die before you. That kind of sucks for you, and for me.
I am left with this weird decision though. Barkley (He wasn't named after the basketball player, the Sesame Street character, or the creepy, insecure guy from Star Trek. I wanted to name him Chewbacca, but my family members did not agree.) probably isn't going to die suddenly. He has a large tumor in his belly that is pushing on some of his organs and crowding them a bit. At his age, surgery is risky at best, so I am just trying to make him comfortable and let nature take its course. The issue is, I have to gauge when his suffering becomes greater than his quality of life. Then I need to take the initiative to ease him out of his misery.
It seems like there is little preparation for life experiences such as this. When else would you have to make this judgment call? I wasn't raised on some farm where life and death is a regular occurrence. I can't kick it Old Yeller style and put my dog out of misery by shooting him in the head behind the tool shed. Partially because I neither own a gun, nor a tool shed. But I digress. I feel like we should have included pets with that whole "death-panel health care reform" dealy. Maybe if there is a group of well-qualified veterinarians taking the responsibility out of my hands, I would be able to sleep easier at night. Where was our end of life planning? Once again, if we carry this example over to the human end of things, I fear that we would be putting too many people out of their misery. How many people go through their days, rarely enjoying a thing, only to wake up and start it all over again? If quality of life is our only determiner, we would be looking at mass genocide of the proletarian class to say the least. Would it actually be more humane to put them out of their misery just as I will eventually put Barkley out of his? Suddenly, I have the impression that we are treating our pets better than people, and we treat them pretty crappy.
In the midst of all this indecision, one thing is pretty much for sure. Sometime during the next few weeks, I will definitely be killing my dog. Let's be honest, that's what it is. It is a mercy killing, but a killing nonetheless. I've thought that maybe we should do it Hollywood style and have him overdose on prescription pain killers. That really seems to be in vogue these days. But that seems to go hand-in-hand with having an eating disorder, and the only type Barkley is interested in involves heavily over-eating. That is definitely not Hollywood style. Besides, the logistics of it are rather difficult. Although the story would be great. I imagine an exchange going somewhat like this:
Sympathizer: "Oh, I am so sorry to hear that your dog died. How did it happen?"
Me: "He overdosed on some OxyContin that he chased with a bottle of Jose Cuervo. I always told him those vices would be the death of him, but he never wanted to listen to me. Don't even get me started..."
The kicker is that it would be true. I never was a good liar. Honestly though, I think I would be appropriately fined and possibly jailed for such an act, so I think I will just let nature take its course. I don't know what I will decide or when, but rest assured, I will examine it openly in this semi-public forum.
So I've got this old dog. We've been together happily for 14 1/2 years (which is much more than I can say for any of my human relationships). As I explained it to my freshmen today though, all relationships with dogs end badly. One of you is going to die before the other (and you really hope it is the dog). I guess that could be said for all relationships, regardless of species. I guess I wouldn't carry this argument over to humans. The logic holds, just don't do it. It won't yield anything remotely positive or hopeful. Either way, chances are that your dog is going to die before you. That kind of sucks for you, and for me.
I am left with this weird decision though. Barkley (He wasn't named after the basketball player, the Sesame Street character, or the creepy, insecure guy from Star Trek. I wanted to name him Chewbacca, but my family members did not agree.) probably isn't going to die suddenly. He has a large tumor in his belly that is pushing on some of his organs and crowding them a bit. At his age, surgery is risky at best, so I am just trying to make him comfortable and let nature take its course. The issue is, I have to gauge when his suffering becomes greater than his quality of life. Then I need to take the initiative to ease him out of his misery.
It seems like there is little preparation for life experiences such as this. When else would you have to make this judgment call? I wasn't raised on some farm where life and death is a regular occurrence. I can't kick it Old Yeller style and put my dog out of misery by shooting him in the head behind the tool shed. Partially because I neither own a gun, nor a tool shed. But I digress. I feel like we should have included pets with that whole "death-panel health care reform" dealy. Maybe if there is a group of well-qualified veterinarians taking the responsibility out of my hands, I would be able to sleep easier at night. Where was our end of life planning? Once again, if we carry this example over to the human end of things, I fear that we would be putting too many people out of their misery. How many people go through their days, rarely enjoying a thing, only to wake up and start it all over again? If quality of life is our only determiner, we would be looking at mass genocide of the proletarian class to say the least. Would it actually be more humane to put them out of their misery just as I will eventually put Barkley out of his? Suddenly, I have the impression that we are treating our pets better than people, and we treat them pretty crappy.
In the midst of all this indecision, one thing is pretty much for sure. Sometime during the next few weeks, I will definitely be killing my dog. Let's be honest, that's what it is. It is a mercy killing, but a killing nonetheless. I've thought that maybe we should do it Hollywood style and have him overdose on prescription pain killers. That really seems to be in vogue these days. But that seems to go hand-in-hand with having an eating disorder, and the only type Barkley is interested in involves heavily over-eating. That is definitely not Hollywood style. Besides, the logistics of it are rather difficult. Although the story would be great. I imagine an exchange going somewhat like this:
Sympathizer: "Oh, I am so sorry to hear that your dog died. How did it happen?"
Me: "He overdosed on some OxyContin that he chased with a bottle of Jose Cuervo. I always told him those vices would be the death of him, but he never wanted to listen to me. Don't even get me started..."
The kicker is that it would be true. I never was a good liar. Honestly though, I think I would be appropriately fined and possibly jailed for such an act, so I think I will just let nature take its course. I don't know what I will decide or when, but rest assured, I will examine it openly in this semi-public forum.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Let's do this already!
Let's take care of one thing right off the bat, this is not going to be some cheery little blog about how great life is. Don't let the name mislead you. It is more of a pun than anything. If you are looking for that "chicken soup for the soul" excrement, keep looking. It is also not going to be an angry rant about how ignorant/greedy/mean people are, how much life sucks, and how much better things can be. I like to think that I (along with the vast majority of human beings) reside somewhere in the middle of things. Instead, I am coming at you with everyday stuff from an everyday perspective. Wait! Before you get completely turned off by what sounds like the most potentially boring, drab, and self-serving blog in a long time (which is really saying something), give me a chance. You may be pleasantly surprised.
As I sat with my friend Nick Shattuck this evening bouncing ideas off of each other, I realized how many hilarious and interesting experiences I have had over the past year that were never chronicled and will eventually fade into the fog of memory. Potentially entertaining/meaningful/horrifying things happen every day, if only I could slow down enough to record them. Maybe I will revisit some of the events of my past. They run the gamut from crazy things my students say (just like on the old Cosby program) to aiding in the creation of local businesses to world travel to rather embarrassing things that happen while I am under the influence (just a couple include: chipping teeth after getting kicked out of the VFW and losing consciousness in a gas station bathroom, not in the same evening of course, that would be out of control).
Maybe I should take a moment to introduce myself (I am operating under the assumption that my audience does not consist solely of my friends who take pity upon my pursuits. Instead, I imagine that my appeal is so wide-spread that you may actually require the handy built-in language translator to follow my exploits). My name is Rich, hence the blog handle. I am a 30-year old, nearly penniless grad student (I am not complaining, just saying. It gives you some perspective on me and me some perspective on life.). I currently reside in the quaint little city of La Crosse, Wisconsin. For better or worse, I am pursuing a career in education (yes! I may one day educate your children). It is great, but it is definitely not all I am about. It has been a long and meandering road to get to where I am now. I like to think it gives me a unique point of view. I envision this blog to be similar to the one that the frumpy Amy Adams had in that movie Julie and Julia, except I won't be writing about the sumptuous things I cook, and ultimately eat (how interesting are canned varieties of fish and buttered pasta anyway?). Maybe I don't really know what exactly this will all be about. I guess it will be a slice of my life. It will be brutally honest (usually at my own expense). I try to appreciate the little things. Hopefully I find humor and meaning in them. Life is an all too short son of a bitch sometimes, I am just trying to enjoy as much of it as I can.
As I sat with my friend Nick Shattuck this evening bouncing ideas off of each other, I realized how many hilarious and interesting experiences I have had over the past year that were never chronicled and will eventually fade into the fog of memory. Potentially entertaining/meaningful/horrifying things happen every day, if only I could slow down enough to record them. Maybe I will revisit some of the events of my past. They run the gamut from crazy things my students say (just like on the old Cosby program) to aiding in the creation of local businesses to world travel to rather embarrassing things that happen while I am under the influence (just a couple include: chipping teeth after getting kicked out of the VFW and losing consciousness in a gas station bathroom, not in the same evening of course, that would be out of control).
Maybe I should take a moment to introduce myself (I am operating under the assumption that my audience does not consist solely of my friends who take pity upon my pursuits. Instead, I imagine that my appeal is so wide-spread that you may actually require the handy built-in language translator to follow my exploits). My name is Rich, hence the blog handle. I am a 30-year old, nearly penniless grad student (I am not complaining, just saying. It gives you some perspective on me and me some perspective on life.). I currently reside in the quaint little city of La Crosse, Wisconsin. For better or worse, I am pursuing a career in education (yes! I may one day educate your children). It is great, but it is definitely not all I am about. It has been a long and meandering road to get to where I am now. I like to think it gives me a unique point of view. I envision this blog to be similar to the one that the frumpy Amy Adams had in that movie Julie and Julia, except I won't be writing about the sumptuous things I cook, and ultimately eat (how interesting are canned varieties of fish and buttered pasta anyway?). Maybe I don't really know what exactly this will all be about. I guess it will be a slice of my life. It will be brutally honest (usually at my own expense). I try to appreciate the little things. Hopefully I find humor and meaning in them. Life is an all too short son of a bitch sometimes, I am just trying to enjoy as much of it as I can.
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