• Movie time

    Yesterday we watched “…good night, and good luck.” It’s that movie about Edward R. Murrow and his decision to take on Senator Joseph McCarthy during the height of the “Red Scare.” At the end of the movie, after watching several stirring recreations of “See it now” broadcasts, I was struck with one overriding thought. There are few that write like that any more, and even fewer that talk like that in public. The strength of Murrow’s delivery lay not just in the physical aspect: the strength of his voice or the timing of his speech, but in the choice of his words… which lent his message a degree of authority, thoughtfulness, and conviction that has grown more lacking in today’s speech.

    This brings to mind some instruction I received in writing, at some point during my education. I recall being told that if I had a choice of words I should choose the simpler, more common of the two – to make my point clearer. The clear implication was that simpler language was better. Now I wonder when we, as a people, decided that “simpler” equals “better?” I do not, and never will, imply that my writing is great… or even particularly good… but how many of the great writers or orators in history were characterized by their simple language? At Gettysburg, Lincoln could have said, “Eighty-seven years ago some folks made up a new set of rules, for a new kind of country.” My guess is it would have long since been forgotten, or at best been relegated to the small print of our history texts – remembered only for the historical significance of the event – and not, as it is now – for the words he used.

    Anyone who knows me knows I am not one to praise the “good old days” – and I would never yearn for their return. What’s so good about dying at fifty, hacking and wheezing in smoke-clogged public spaces, flammable waterways, getting Polio/Small Pox (or any number of diseases since vaccinated against), finding half the population useful only as a means of propagating the species, ruthless segregation forced on anything (and everything) society finds the least bit different… I could go on and on. The answer is no, I don’t want to go back to the fifties. However, I do wish our leaders would (or could) stop talking down to us. I wish they would (or could) inspire us to greatness with their words, rather than bring us all down to the lowest common denominator.

  • A little Monday morning blasphemy

    On occasion there is no limit to my torpidity. In fact, this morning was one such morning. I was dragging myself across the parking lot, by every outward appearance failing a field sobriety test, when I spied a spry fellow whistling his way to work.

    Channeling my inner New Yorker (the source of surliness in all of us), I came up with a few choice epithets for this man and his disgusting display of Monday morning mania. I kept them to myself, naturally, but it got me to thinking (or my home brewed, equivalent thereof).

    In honor of the theatrical release of the Da Vinci Code…
    “On the eighth day God, deciding his work was not quite done, created coffee beans and the means to dry roast, brew, and acquire a taste for them… and it was good.” (Excerpt from the Apocrypha.) Thusly, if God had meant for us to be vigorous and cheerful on Monday mornings, why did he create coffee and the means to enjoy it? And if he did not mean for us to be vigorous and cheerful on Monday mornings, what recourse is justified for those who thwart God’s will so blatantly?

  • The dust settles on another school year

    Let me say that most of the folks we’ve dealt with at my daughter’s school have been wonderful. They’ve been kind, patient, understanding, and caring. All the same, next year my daughter will be going to a different school.

    Why is she going to a different school? It’s a long story, one I don’t have the energy or inclination to tell right now… but here’s the abbreviated/censored version: Beth’s third grade teacher. Every one of the conditions these kind, patient, understanding, and caring school professionals carefully laid out for Beth to succeed in school were conditions that Beth’s third grade teacher either ignored or outright contradicted. We had our last meeting at Beth’s old school this morning, and the staff (sans Beth’s teacher – per usual) acknowledged Beth didn’t get what she needed from her teacher. One of them said she was sorry.

    There’s just one problem with being sorry… it doesn’t change anything that’s already happened. I just wish someone was sorry six months ago when we wanted to switch teachers. I just wish someone was sorry when we pointed out time and again the teacher’s failure to abide by the school’s policies. I wonder if someone will still be sorry when they review this teacher’s performance in the future. Is it standard procedure for teachers to ignore counselor’s and paid consultant’s recommendations? What’s the point of having guidance counselors, psychologists, and social workers on the payroll if their advice is ignored?

    I’ll bet I know what you’re thinking. “With all of those people involved, I wonder what’s wrong with this kid? I wonder what her parents have done to make all of this necessary?”

    You know what? I wouldn’t blame you. I’ve seen misbehaving kids in public and I’ve wondered the same thing about their parents. If you’ve done any reading here before, you know I’ve blamed myself many times. All I can say is I’m trying.

    Dear God I’m trying.

    Is it too much to expect the same from her teacher?

    To be fair, this is the first problem we’ve had with a teacher at this school. Her other teachers have been wonderful. But it’s a sign the administration is a gutless shill for the teachers – good or bad.

    We won’t be around for another roll of the dice.