Friday night, cozy at home after the storm

It's been snowing all day... must be at least eight inches of very wet snow, though much of it is compressing from its own weight. 

I only mention this because I can't remember the last time it snowed around here, much less snowed more than an inch. The snow will likely be melted by end of the day Sunday since temps will be back in the 60s with sun.

The roads are messy and there's enough snow to get the plows out, but Kathleen and I really don't care. We have our Friday pizza from Papa Murphy's, plenty of beer and wine, an Iowa women's game to watch at 4:30 (they are playing in the Big Ten Tournament), and a wide choice of movies for our Friday night pizza and a movie tradition.

For the past month or so, we have been alternating choosing movie musicals. We own about three dozen DVDs, so there's a lot to choose from, but it's my night and I may go with "Grease 2," which was written about last week in the New York Times.

It came out in 1982 and has been a favorite in our family for many years. Lesley and Sara and Phil can quote numerous lines from the film as well as break out and sing many of the songs from the show. 

I can't hear someone say the word "reproduction" without wanting to break out into the Grease 2 song of that name. I want a rider that's cool. The show offers a song in praise of bowling, for heaven's sake. One of the great parodies of school talent shows is "Girl for All Seasons." 

Just rereading that list cements my choice for tonight, and I see it's available on Paramount+ so...

I am actually shocked that "Grease 2" is not in our DVD collection. That collection is getting smaller as we cull and edit and make decisions about whether we are likely to ever want to watch "Shrek" on a Friday night again. The answer was no, particularly after Sara and boys said they would take our collection of all three Shrek movies a month ago or so. 

We aren't being nutty about it, but we are occasionally donating or tossing some DVDs and books that are just accumulating dust. We should do much more but it's a heavy task, at least for us.

When you are 75, there are moments when you begin realizing that, for instance, replacing the carpet in the house is not as long-term a "fix" as it might have been when we were 50. Two weeks ago, we finally had a water softener installed to help with our fixtures, plumbing, etc., and the guy mentioned that it came with a ten-year warranty.

Sounds awesome, but when I'm 85... well, IF I'm 85, investing in the future seems less likely to pay off. Still, it's clearly a good idea to plan to live to 100, just in case. 

I just hope our BluRay players holds up.

Just another week wondering what the heck I'm doing with an online class

The spring semester reached the six-week mark a few days ago... so, 6 of 15, or 40 percent through. 

You might think that by this point, most students have adapted to the weekly assignment schedule. For my Metro "Composing Arguments" class, that deadline is each Tuesday night by midnight, and most weeks include 2-3 assignments which can be uploaded any time prior to the deadline. They are a mix of short of more demanding.

Long story short: you would be wrong thinking those deadlines have become routine. 

I was shocked, honestly (and I should know better, perhaps), to find Wednesday morning that fully HALF of my 22 students had failed to submit what I call the "next draft" of an essay that they submitted two weeks ago. The original assignment was to write a descriptive essay that made a significant event or moment or scene come alive. 

The "next draft" asked first for a self-reflection (based on their own analysis after some time away from the essay, plus consideration of the comments I shared with them) and then a second draft.

Of course, I do have three students who never submitted the first draft and that certainly presents a challenge. But I did email each of them inviting them to at least submit that missing draft so they would not end up with zero out of 100 possible points (60 for the first draft and another 40 for the second). It's Friday and none of the three have responded or submitted the first draft. 

I hope my assignments and deadlines don't sound overly complicated. My hope is that students can practice re-writing as an important skill. Many experts argue that ALL writing is re-writing at some level. The real work comes after we get the basic ideas on the screen or page, as we find more focus and see holes in the narrative or the need for more context or description.

So, what is their instructor to think when so many students reject the opportunity to revisit their work?

One thought I have is that they are completely surprised at the very idea of revisiting a piece of writing and become paralyzed. "But didn't I already DO that assignment?"

A second thought is that I might not have given the sort of feedback that many students need to dig back into a personal essay. That is a tough one to evaluate, but there is quite a range of sample texts and my own commentary to draw upon. There is no guarantee that students actually read most of the material I give them, though.

Several times per semester, I give an online quiz on what I feel is an important writing sample... just a desparate way to force students to read (or at least browse) what I find compelling and instructive. 

In a sense, requiring a one-page reflection on that first draft is the same thing: the best reflections respond in some way to at least some of my comments, making me feel less useless in the overall exercise. 

I may need to create even more "quick quizzes" for Metro students, though you would think college students would not need the same "tricks" routinely used on middle school or high school students. 

At some point, we all need to determine for ourselves whether we need to "do the reading." The truth is that many colleges students haven't gotten to that point. 

A third, more depressing thought, is that some students find writing to be so onerous, such a chore, and so debilitating, that the very thought of returning to a disdained piece of writing leads them to avoidance and risking wasting their tuition money. 

I asked those tardy writers to get their "next drafts" in this weekend. I will not be holding my breath.

Speak on, your Majesty!

The state of the union? Chaotic, at best.

Anyone who chooses to watch what our King promises will be a very long State of the Union address (last year it ran 1 hour 40 minutes) is either a masochist, a pundit, or a Cult member. I honestly can't imagine spending one moment with it, though I assume I will see clips and read endless analysis in the days to come.

Just thinkingn about tonight's big event leads me to a famous scene from "Monty Python and Holy Grail" (we saw "Spamalot" last Sunday at Littonton Town Hall theater... fun stuff).

King Arthur is "riding" through the countryside on his quest when he happens upon some peasants toiling in a field next to the road... they are cutting sod, apparently. 

Arthur: Old Woman!
 
The peasant turns around, revealing that he is in fact a man.
 
Man:	Man!
Arthur: Man, sorry.... What knight lives in that castle over there?
Man:	I'm thirty-seven!
Arthur: (suprised) What?
Man:	I'm thirty-seven! I'm not old--
Arthur: Well I can't just call you "man"...
Man:	Well you could say "Dennis"--
Arthur: I didn't know you were called Dennis!
Man:	Well, you didn't bother to find out, did you?!
Arthur: I did say sorry about the "old woman", but from behind, you looked--
Man:	Well I object to your...you automatically treat me like an inferior!
Arthur: Well I *am* king...
Man:	Oh, king, eh, very nice. And 'ow'd you get that, eh?
	(he reaches his destination and stops, dropping the cart)
	By exploiting the workers! By 'angin' on to outdated imperialist dogma
	which perpetuates the economic and social differences in our society.
	If there's ever going to be any progress,--
Woman:	Dennis! There's some lovely filth down 'ere!
	(noticing Arthur) Oh! 'Ow'd'ja do?
Arthur: How do you do, good lady. I am Arthur, king of the Britons. Whose
	castle is that?
Woman:	King of the 'oo?
Arthur: King of the Britons.
Woman:	'Oo are the Britons?
Arthur: Well we all are! We are all Britons! And I am your king.
Woman:	I didn't know we 'ad a king! I thought we were an autonomous collective.
Man:	(mad) You're fooling yourself! We're living in a dictatorship! A
	self-perpetuating autocracy in which the working classes--
Woman:	There you go, bringing class into it again...
Man:	That's what it's all about! If only people would--
Arthur: Please, *please*, good people, I am in haste! WHO lives in that
	castle?
Woman:	No one lives there.
Arthur: Then who is your lord?
Woman:	We don't have a lord!
Arthur: (surprised) What??
Man:	I *told* you! We're an anarcho-syndicalist commune! We're taking
	turns to act as a sort of executive-officer-for-the-week--
Arthur: (uninterested) Yes...
Man:	But all the decisions *of* that officer 'ave to be ratified at a
	special bi-weekly meeting--
Arthur: (perturbed) Yes I see!
Man:	By a simple majority, in the case of purely internal affairs--
Arthur: (mad) Be quiet!
Man:	But by a two-thirds majority, in the case of more major--
Arthur: (very angry) BE QUIET! I *order* you to be quiet!
Woman:	"Order", eh, 'oo does 'e think 'e is?
Arthur: I am your king!
Woman:	Well I didn't vote for you!
Arthur: You don't vote for kings!
Woman:	Well 'ow'd you become king then?
(holy music up)
Arthur: The Lady of the Lake--her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite,
	held aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water, signifying by
	divine providence that I, Arthur, was to carry Excalibur. THAT is why
	I am your king!
Man:	(laughingly) Listen: Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords
	is no basis for a system of government! Supreme executive power
	derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some... farcical
	aquatic ceremony!
Arthur: (yelling) BE QUIET!
Man:	You can't expect to wield supreme executive power just 'cause some
	watery tart threw a sword at you!!
Arthur: (coming forward and grabbing the man) Shut *UP*!
Man:	I mean, if I went 'round, saying I was an emperor, just because some
	moistened bit had lobbed a scimitar at me, they'd put me away!
Arthur: (throwing the man around) Shut up, will you, SHUT UP!
Man:	Aha! Now we see the violence inherent in the system!
Arthur: SHUT UP!
Man:	(yelling to all the other workers) Come and see the violence inherent
	in the system! HELP, HELP, I'M BEING REPRESSED!
Arthur: (letting go and walking away) Bloody PEASANT!
Man:	Oh, what a giveaway! Did'j'hear that, did'j'hear that, eh?  That's
	what I'm all about! Did you see 'im repressing me? You saw it, didn't you?! 

That one scene manages to parody the very idea of a king and Divine Right while also poking fun at ultra-liberal politics and governmental processes that take forever and require endless debate.

BTW: how DID Trump become King?

Oh, thanks, Tim. I have to actually write something?

Tim, the fourth of the eight Kennedy siblings, has been writing memoirs and "life reports" on trips and family events for over a decade now. As a dogged blogger, I appreciate his efforts and admire his "voice" on the page. I have saved all 116 of his short essays (so far)... and honestly don't know what I will do with them. Perhaps a published volume for a special occasion. I have the storage on my desktop computer, so why not? And it's easy enough to publish a book with all the printers looking for work.

Today, he sent out a request through our sibling text chain asking for all of us to contribute a story about our father, to be compiled by Tim and published in conjunction with the anniversary of dad's passing, which is approaching. I love a good compilation and will certainly put something together. 

As with any memoir, it would be difficult to confirm most of my memories. They have been sorted and edited and filtered through my head over so many years that I honestly couldn't differentiate myth from reality... well, I would like to think I have the facts right, but who knows?

It occurred to me to use this blog to share some of those random stories from an increasingly distant past, for myself and any loyal readers. I will try to do so, when time permits.

But the timing of Tim's request is perfect as my Metro class is now working (well, they have the assignment) on a "next draft" of their Significant Moment essay which they wrote two weeks ago. The students were all over the place, with some understanding that a "moment" does not constitute weeks, months, and years, and some demonstrating that they read my samples of short memoirs and my own instructions and examples. 

The word count was about 800, just to give the students a ballpark as to the detail and depth they would need to do well. Some wrote fewer and many went over the limit. Interestingly, this is a classic case of writing MORE not necessarily leading to more success. For inexperienced writers, writing more is often just expanding the possibility of error or logic problems or simply wandering off and writing about stuff that might be true but has nothing to do with the point.

If I had a nickel for every student who begins a short memoir by describing getting up and driving to work or to a game or to school or to a date, usually making certain to emphasize that they had no idea something sad, happy, crazy, or tragic was about to happen... well, I would have quite a stack of nickels.

Not enough to offset the tariffs I have paid lately, but still. 

My standard advice is to think like a TV writer and drop readers into a dramatic or funny or provocative moment (in media res), hoping that first scene can be intriguing enough that viewers will return after the commercial break.

I don't ask for a "next draft" all the time, and the exercise is not a strong fit for an asynchronous online writing class, but at least some of them will read my many comments and think about my suggestions concerning recreating dialog or developing key characters or simply lmiting themselves to one morning in their life. 

I will use Tim's request to practice what I teach, so to speak. That is always a good practice for a writing teacher. I suspect that lots of teachers are fine creating assignments and fine assessing them, but actually writing the essay or poem or report? Not so much.

The first step for me will be to list some key moments and incidents and situations or teams, and also to consider varying time periods. That "gathering of material" is an important step in the writing process, of course, and I always emphasize to students that they should try to "write from abundance," as famous writing coach Donald Murray always said. 

The next step is to choose what portion of that abundance will become part of THIS assignment. I have often had to remind young writers that they don't need to try to change the world in one short essay. I hope I will pay attention to that advice. Choosing one key moment is the key, and it won't be easy.

The good news is that there is always a chance to write a "next" essay or memoir. Put enough together and you have an entire book.

Tim's ongoing saga is now at approximately 300 pages, a personal history that informs and entertains and analyzes. And now he is pushing his siblings to "sign on" to a shorter but related project.

Good for him, or as our dad would say, "Good go."

Successful media means great presentation

The common wisdom is always, "you can't tell a book by its cover," and there is something to that.

But when it comes to student magazines, that old saying is overrated, at least based on many years of critiquing publications from all over the country.

When I am browsing through a high school magazine that is a mess from a visual standpoint, I rarely find that the content, the writing and reporting, is far superior to what the presentation of the publication promised. 

Maybe that should not be a surprise, considering that if a magazine's editors and staff put a lot of work into page design and visuals, we would expect them to also invest some effort in strong reporting and writing.  

But many high school media contests over the years have been made fun of by at least some participants (particularly those who didn't win awards often) as "beauty contests." There were stories shared about judges making very quick decisions on, for instance, Best of Show entries during national conventions where judges make their top ten list in an hour or two from among dozens of publications. 

Having been a Best of Show judge myself, I knew that people weren't just glancing at page designs and making their calls, but it was always true that we could quickly cull the potential winners from the "others." 

The reality is that when you sort to the point where you are looking at, say, 15 entries, a judge really does need to start reading samples and headlines and looking closely at coverage topics, etc. Turns out that the top publications are all quite well-designed as well as solidly reported. 

Bottom line: I am working on a white paper or pamphlet or something that argues for editors and staffs who wish to do well in competition and critiques would be smart to invest time early in the year on typography details, styles that automate choices in InDesign, etc. They need some sort of vertical grid structure to hold everything together. 

Another way to think of great student media is that it all has to happen together and it's all interrelated. 

Just like everyday life.

Big changes are often easier than small ones

One of life's paradoxes is that it is usually easier to make big changes, all at once, than nibble away at challenges. This is particularly true when things are going OK, but not what we hoped, or when we fear all sorts of unanticipated problems if we aren't careful.

Today, I read about how some places have instituted free bus fares as a way to break through the continuing environmental and traffic and parking problems that plague most cities. That was in the New York Times, based on the new mayor's promise to make public transportation free. Not surprisingly, that promise prompted many "but what about..." objections.

In today Denver Post was a story about the frustrations many in the Denver metro area have with RTD, which governs buses and light rail across eight counties and that cannot seem to recover from the pandemic (among other challenges). 

Making public transportation free sounds costly but often turns out to be quite economical. The trade-off is between revenue and all the costs associated with enforcing revenue rules and laws. New York City tried an experiment in "surging" more transportation police, and that backfired spectacularly. One incident featured a transit cop firing at an offender who jumped the subway turnstyle. The shots missed the offender but wounded two bystanders. 

Not the same as ICE in Minneapolis but at least distantly related.

Could the RTD magically decree that all light rail and bus service will be free starting Monday? Yes.

Would everything be smooth and simple? No.

Would it be a big change that might prompt x number of additional riders? Maybe.

Systems tend to acquire complexity the longer they exist and the more those in charge try to tinker with all the details. That has happened with light rail in Denver. If you are a student, you can get a free pass (maybe an app?) and ride to your heart's content. If you are over 65, you get a discounted rate. There are varying rates depending on how long your ticket is good for and according to your "zone," or how far you are from the city center. 

Then there are transit cops who randomly ask to see tickets and who can issue fines. You can ride on the light rail for months and months and never see such an official, BTW. And I have never seen anyone asking to see tickets during rush hour. It's just too crowded and clumsy. 

All the administrative costs connected with enforcement of the fare system need to be balanced against the revenue, which continues to dip with decreased ridership. There is also some sort of civic cost as many people take the chance on not paying and not getting caught. 

If we are serious about the need for public transport and reducing traffic, pollution, and driver frustrations, maybe it's time to make the "big change." 

Yes, someone needs to pay for public transportation, but until officials make the big change, why explore creative options for revenue, tax money, sponsorships, etc.? 

When life seems to lack a bit of "oomph"

I know this sounds almost un-American, but I basically skipped the Super Bowl last Sunday. That loss two weeks ago by the Broncos to the Patriots might have had something to do with it, but I also anticipated that it just wouldn't be much of contest. It wasn't 

Big day for our Seattle kids and grandkids, of course, and I know they hosted a fun watch party.

I did watch the halftime show and thought it was good... technically spectacular with people in giant tree costumes to create an instant forest. My Spanish is basically non-existent but I could sort of follow that there was a narrative going on. 

I wouldn't recognize a Bad Bunny song on a bet, at least partly due to not frequenting dance clubs. I can appreciate the symbolic power of a Puerto Rican artist performing during America's biggest religious holiday (and that not really a joke). 

I enjoyed the discomforture of many of the Trump minions, who somehow turned the whole extraveganza into blasphemy (see what I mean about religion and the Super Bowl?). I am certain there will be a brand new national scandal that will push the social commentary and over-the-top praise off my screens, probably within the next week or so. 

We are in the mid-winter doldrums and our Octoberplike weather isn't really helping. This is the time of year that seems to drag, leaving me impatient for reopening the deck and patio. 

The Olympics are everywhere now, but I have almost no interest in them. I certainly accept that these athletes are demonstrating unbelievable skills and even bravery... I just can't bring myself to feel emotionally invested. 

This is the time of year when Kathleen and I have finally decided to get a whole home water softener, followed by conversations about why we didn't do this, say, 18 years ago. Pulling the trigger on that led to us overdoing it today in moving shelves and bins and boxes out of the furnace room to make way for the new "life-changing" unit coming next Monday.

It's an awkward space but for almost two decades we have stored Christmas decorations there. I took apart an ancient metal shelving unit that leaned precariously due to metal fatigue (maybe?), and that was a thing. Next Monday or Tuesday we will need to make some decisions on rearranging or even culling some decorations. 

We don't put them all out each year and some are pretty beat up, but many of them have some sentimental value and the editing of those items will be agonizing. 

Imagine this: one of my goals for 2026 now is to imagine the fresh, softened water washing away 18 years of sediment. Maybe our appliances and faucets will gain some life.

And my experiment trying a very expensive coffee maker from Denmark failed completely. The $375 unit simply doesn't make very hot coffee... and that was the whole point.

So we went back to the $70 Cuisinart and I have to report that I found this morning's brew quite hot and tasty. 

See what I mean about being in the winter doldrums?