tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91240188483372026272024-03-13T19:21:22.169-07:00Mole SpeakMolaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-89877780082468583422009-12-24T12:25:00.000-08:002009-12-24T12:31:22.312-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3XLtwMeAIOsxxeiQq6QuLTJV4pBLIvQhzgqOXc_vuskirwxKza9zX5IJuON-bYbSixFbtewgTDvWAVbsVJEtp_Y-JCM6xRrFFREYfXOzy_Qmlz9dDvP5-tY5INaKDuJlOHku-70ojEs6E/s1600-h/Mud+2009+005.JPG"><br /></a>Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-77888774794918845352009-10-20T20:40:00.000-07:002009-10-20T21:12:17.487-07:00<span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span>Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-87077265416948239732009-08-08T12:31:00.000-07:002009-08-08T13:00:24.061-07:00Big Toys<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEG1FXqlMLyyliz0OFtq2b8IBUz9q5waOll4ylMJRQXhLuG24tFjmb4BiuFswYI526Y1Ad7rZE6g-vh3ptDftXS9Gq_QmRkipHpXUaBWcQ-TCLCq79lrOONvcNvFEvyzVen75X1jqlBgzg/s1600-h/Big+Toys+003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 157px; height: 201px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEG1FXqlMLyyliz0OFtq2b8IBUz9q5waOll4ylMJRQXhLuG24tFjmb4BiuFswYI526Y1Ad7rZE6g-vh3ptDftXS9Gq_QmRkipHpXUaBWcQ-TCLCq79lrOONvcNvFEvyzVen75X1jqlBgzg/s320/Big+Toys+003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367681382787531426" border="0" /></a>Yesterday was the Day of Big Toys in front of my house. Last week, we received a notice from So Cal Edison to expect the electricity to be cut off starting apx 9am on Friday. The reason was 'extraordinary maintenance" that needed to be performed. We were cautioned to safeguard computers and other sensitive electronic equipment, and advised to keep the refrigerator and freezer doors closed.<br /><br />No mention was made of the equipment that would arrive--<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">About eight the trucks started pulling up right in front of my house. I found out that my driveway would be blocked for the duration, so I had to move my car and park around the corner or be trapped.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAm3lFcmA0xegrJh_Mxmu0cupgfrEWjMX0Q4tzMp0RPHRcPbmMiBO_80Y_ZkntqXu1J-Xw_p6I1b1Hbrxdp091B7L54teue5dWMJlaksALcbaKF_r2mBALNkhcP7N7fERVbT5HcjWYbGOr/s1600-h/Big+Toys+005.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 231px; height: 172px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAm3lFcmA0xegrJh_Mxmu0cupgfrEWjMX0Q4tzMp0RPHRcPbmMiBO_80Y_ZkntqXu1J-Xw_p6I1b1Hbrxdp091B7L54teue5dWMJlaksALcbaKF_r2mBALNkhcP7N7fERVbT5HcjWYbGOr/s320/Big+Toys+005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367678972349150322" border="0" /></a>I watched as they assembled the crane needed to perform this "maintenence", piece by humongus piece. This included a mammoth crane to put up the crane...<br /><br />The workers were business like as they assembled the structure -- I noticed the flatbed trailer rise noticibly as parts were lifted, indicitive the incredible weight of each section.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ACod3KCPrIqJ8LlrIWgB_MjYuf9RSrR7otYIIoO7MnN4VczSNyMbJnuZ3F-Gf2pkkkn9pggDkP88moLrkkIQyOltV-9qP1X0xCNq0JDP8BcJ3nJTPil40ui-4URG-m3_393qxmj_fbNY/s1600-h/Big+Toys+007.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 156px; height: 209px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ACod3KCPrIqJ8LlrIWgB_MjYuf9RSrR7otYIIoO7MnN4VczSNyMbJnuZ3F-Gf2pkkkn9pggDkP88moLrkkIQyOltV-9qP1X0xCNq0JDP8BcJ3nJTPil40ui-4URG-m3_393qxmj_fbNY/s320/Big+Toys+007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367681762491113762" border="0" /></a><br />I left the house before they finished, having decided to hit a movie (or two) during our forced return to 19th century technology.<br /><br />I saw <span style="font-style: italic;">Julie & Julia</span> -- (check out my review over at RTVW) and then did a little illicit theatre hopping and saw <span style="font-style: italic;">G-Force</span>, which was worth the price I paid.<br /><br />It turns out that they had to replace a telephone pole just outside my back fence (the power lines are very close). They didn't remove the old pole, just added a new, slightly taller one right beside it.Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-9192033019903141172009-08-02T14:44:00.000-07:002009-08-02T20:40:10.978-07:00Baseball TripNo, not a Timothy Leary '60s kind of trip, mind you, but a trip through America's Heartland, the Midwest.<br /><br />This was my fifth trip with Sports Travel and Tours (sportstravelandtours.com) and every one of them has been fantastic.<br /><br />We started on Saturday (7/25) in Kansas City. Kauffman Stadium just underwent a major remodeling -- $400 million worth -- and it is a beautiful place to see a game. We were treated to a rare Royals win. Right next door to the home of the NFL Kansas City Chiefs, the complex is easy to get to. I made some points with the group when I told them that the International Space Station & Space Shuttle would be visible almost directly overhead that night. Sure enough, just as we were getting off the bus at the hotel (9:36 pm CDT) there it was.<br /><br />The next day we had an all-to short visit to the National Negro Baseball League Museum, and then back to Kauffman. Fortunately, our seats were in the shade (granted, the weather was perfect - temps in the mid 80s - but the sun was very bright). Included in our tour group were two couples from Bolonga, Italy (they play in a softball league and are very knowledgeable about our national pastime). One of the men caught a foul ball! After the game, as we were boarding the bus, he proudly displayed his prize walking down the aisle. I told him "You know, you're going to have to declare that in customs." At first he was somewhat baffled, but after everyone started laughing, he caught on.<br /><br />The next morning we were off on our longest driving leg, a nine hour sojourn to the home of Mary Richards, Minneapolis, Minnesota. Mile after mile of Iowa cornfields did little to keep one's eyes open. When we finally reached the larger of the twin cities, we encountered major construction (we had a Minnesota native in our group, and he told me, "there are two seasons in Minnesota; winter and street repair.") We had about 30 min to check-in before hoofing the half mile to the Metrodome. A perfect place to see a game -- that is, of course, providing the game is football. Our seats faced directly to the space between center and right field, so we had to twist about 80 degrees to the right so we could see the pitcher and batter.<br /><br />After about 15 hours in Minneapolis, we were on the road again, this time heading into Wisconsin (the 37th state I've been in) and a date with the Brewers.<br /><br />However, before that was my Peep Meet with Dragonflies, and our brief encounter at Milwaukee's Safe House (this was after the photo op with <span style="font-style: italic;">The Fonz</span>).<br />Miller Park is another great place to see a game. I was surprised (well, maybe not) to see so many beer vendors plying the aisles (Dodger Stadium prohibits the sale of beer in the seating area). Another member of our little troup was Andrew, a 14-year old avid fan of the hapless Washington Nationals. The Nats happened to kick the Brewers butts, so we had a very happy teenager the rest of the trip.<br />After Milwaukee was a fairly short trip south to the Windy City - Chicago - and our appointment with a game at the Friendly Confines. I've been to 27 major league stadia in my travels, and there are no fans like the fans at Wrigley Field. They're crazy (but in a good way). The fact that the Cubbies won 12-0 did little to discourage normal behavior from the faithful.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuCUnayoE7-wGuuQ5plbKHsK43cRISpzfm3K6ACJS8ZEp6F4zWYkszZGsCjwSXjxLFXxfJQ6BG7Xp5jOBWslEQ8bBKlMsqQRqOlCFOEBFSOg1MirxcPedhUUpFyHFo3mGunZw9Eugu_Gnm/s1600-h/STAT+2009+070.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuCUnayoE7-wGuuQ5plbKHsK43cRISpzfm3K6ACJS8ZEp6F4zWYkszZGsCjwSXjxLFXxfJQ6BG7Xp5jOBWslEQ8bBKlMsqQRqOlCFOEBFSOg1MirxcPedhUUpFyHFo3mGunZw9Eugu_Gnm/s200/STAT+2009+070.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365495314545339666" border="0" /></a><br />The next morning we had a city tour, but it went all too fast (plus the fact that we used our same bus -- I made the suggestion that city tours should use the open top-double decker type bus that most tours have). However, the best part was my second Peep Meet; this time with the lovely Dakota.<br /><br />Our meeting was disrupted by the World's Rudest Resturant Manager. We were sitting at a table outside of a Subway shop that was next door to some other local bistro. After a couple of minuets this woman yells out from the door "those tables aren't for Subway people!" OK, but there were four empty tables, plus another table occupied by a single diner quietly munching on her Subway six-inch <span style="font-style: italic;">Spicy Italian</span>...<br />Not wanting to anger her neighbor, Dakota suggested that we retreat to her stoop two doors down, where we finished our chat.<br /><br />That night we headed over to the home of the White Sox, US Cellular Field. I wanted to see the marker showing the location of home plate for old Comiskey Park. Our tour host directed us to it, in the parking lot near gate 5. I snapped a couple of pictures, in honor of the 50th anniversay of the Dodgers World Series win at that very spot. The evening started out rather gloomy, as we had to sit through a 64 minute rain delay (the only bad weather during the entire trip). However, that was more than made up for when the Pale Hose rallied in the ninth to beat the Yankees 3-2. Oh happy Day! (My baseball philospphy is quite simple: any day the Yankees lose is a good day.)<br /><br />During our stay in Chicago, the hotel was home to some serious lawyer-in-training torture. The Loyola Law School was conducting interviews for students to enter their Patent Law program. Prospective Patent Lawyers had to sit in chairs placed in the hall outside of rooms -- looking for all the world like miscreant fifth graders waiting to see the Principal. Granted, I'm all for lawyers suffering, but this was close to unconstitutional misery.<br /><br />The final leg got underway early on Friday morning, as we headed back south, eventually returning to the Show Me State and Busch Stadium, St. Louis. I spotted the Gateway Arch about four miles from the mighty Mississippi River. Our hotel was across the street from the ballpark - a distance of maybe 70 feet wall-to-wall. Cardinal fans are without a doubt the most <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGERm5fCPHAztwl8tVAY7q7QWnjYsEYvSCUZ4uCY09XYGbRoH-XDt-mgfPRwwUU3aW08EaM4HbpeaFLC5RHnMZAut1YhX2wTck097MAwxfUoV8uyJ-3pqnLFmSh01j4smCNtA2do-9CIxK/s1600-h/STAT+2009+177.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGERm5fCPHAztwl8tVAY7q7QWnjYsEYvSCUZ4uCY09XYGbRoH-XDt-mgfPRwwUU3aW08EaM4HbpeaFLC5RHnMZAut1YhX2wTck097MAwxfUoV8uyJ-3pqnLFmSh01j4smCNtA2do-9CIxK/s200/STAT+2009+177.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365486296525568210" border="0" /></a>knowelable and appreciative fans in all of baseball, so I wanted to honor them. I went to the team store about 4 hours before gametime and purchased several items (though I did focus on All Star Game memorabilia). I wore red to the game, another thrilling win for the home team as the Cards beat the Astros 4-3.<br /><br />My flight home was at 8:40 am, which meant a 6 o'clock shuttle pickup for the airport. I booked my flights through Orbitz, and got a decent first class fare - but had to endure two layovers (St. Louis to Denver; Denver to Salt Lake City; Salt Lake City to L.A.), finally getting home about 5 pm PDT (13 hours after boarding the shuttle).<br /><br />Vacations are great fun (for the most part) but getting home is the best part.Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-85179486300306712522009-06-16T18:25:00.000-07:002009-06-16T18:51:52.862-07:00My 1/60th of a Worhol<span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-size:100%;" >I'm a devoted listener to K-EARTH 101, a Los Angeles oldies station. The morning DJ, Gary Bryan has several fun features, including something he calls "Generation Gap".<br /><br />In "Generation Gap", kids under the age of 18 are invited to call in (with someone over the age of 18 standing by). The 'game' is simple. Gary gives them the name of two rock & roll groups, "one of them is real, the other is bogus" The kid needs to get two of three correct to win.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-size:85%;" >>>side note -- in the six years or so that Gary has been doing this bit, not a single kid has failed to name two correct groups. If that means the 'challenge' is blatantly easy after the first goof, so be it -- but I digress<<</span><br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">As part of the intro, Gary will ask the kid who is there with hir. Most of the time it's a parent. Gary will then ask the parent's name.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">I've had couple of burning questions for some time, and decided last night to send Gary an email (via the station's web site) with the questions:</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">1. Have you ever had a kid confused by the word 'bogus'?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">2. Has there even been a kid give their parent's name as "Mommy"? (Sometimes the kids are as young as five or six).</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">So this morning, about 6:30am Gary read my email on the air! He gave my whole name, and even mentioned my email address (not the dot-whatever part, though). I even got a chuckle from the Entertainment editor, because my IRL name is the same as a '60s TV icon (last name has a minor spelling variation).</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">The answer to both questions was no, but he did say that he's expecting to get the "mommy" response some day.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">The whole thing lasted about 10 seconds, but I was walking on air for most of the day (and writing this has brightened my early evening, too!)</span><br /></span></span>Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-68676692882086442862009-06-14T19:30:00.000-07:002009-06-14T19:32:20.671-07:00More kwazy katz<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmN3XdUH5EK0hYCbOPDRBHZ_YLBOwPzjjH2qjXiWGJs3g2bNx7b0W2QBNkOW8s8LSFW9VdIK3g_HMEdQHbYJ_vdAUej4TFtrV3YFeiHpN2okqwiVDVRGXpIuVbAhRKOpxuVgVwtO0laIWB/s1600-h/Fido+the+mother1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmN3XdUH5EK0hYCbOPDRBHZ_YLBOwPzjjH2qjXiWGJs3g2bNx7b0W2QBNkOW8s8LSFW9VdIK3g_HMEdQHbYJ_vdAUej4TFtrV3YFeiHpN2okqwiVDVRGXpIuVbAhRKOpxuVgVwtO0laIWB/s200/Fido+the+mother1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347376576439865762" border="0" /></a><br />It seems as if Fido has become a mother.<br /><br />Well, O'Malley seems to think so...Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-73980679974159910302009-05-31T18:36:00.000-07:002009-05-31T18:38:58.816-07:00Kitty love<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ZK3e_VphD1DoQ1bi4DaJTFDNAKAlTl7fw7XcVTmKN_TFS-kz91t_VqftcA2bZIAENUVTzRvmmtdvthCpLDNNdUEXGkRnHsPR1Td_-R8k3kMLqk8BYx6w9HhIBSm6kgxMPGlS-OO4rBGD/s1600-h/O'Malley+and+Fido+004.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ZK3e_VphD1DoQ1bi4DaJTFDNAKAlTl7fw7XcVTmKN_TFS-kz91t_VqftcA2bZIAENUVTzRvmmtdvthCpLDNNdUEXGkRnHsPR1Td_-R8k3kMLqk8BYx6w9HhIBSm6kgxMPGlS-OO4rBGD/s200/O'Malley+and+Fido+004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342167454338092210" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Fido and O'Malley have become friends.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKX2KWTmE7Bbmc2En8EsgYIx0DG-IHe5dGqKeTQn3ctaSnaAM7EK28_amtfru3fJzolwHrUq_fgiD7jxFZ5ZxEIbMRzi5BpW2cn2mSMF2CZN0LMrZprlpbOkMm-E0XXPK0nly97sF8m5QR/s1600-h/O'Malley+and+Fido+001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKX2KWTmE7Bbmc2En8EsgYIx0DG-IHe5dGqKeTQn3ctaSnaAM7EK28_amtfru3fJzolwHrUq_fgiD7jxFZ5ZxEIbMRzi5BpW2cn2mSMF2CZN0LMrZprlpbOkMm-E0XXPK0nly97sF8m5QR/s200/O'Malley+and+Fido+001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342167344804970226" border="0" /></a>Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-22201854992707750802009-05-29T18:33:00.000-07:002009-05-29T19:12:07.604-07:00Thoughts<span style="font-family: courier new;"><span style="font-family: arial;">One of my students had a tough day today.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">A little background. This student started in mid-October, about six weeks after the start of the school year. When she showed up in my class, I had to do a double check on the name. Her hair was cut very short, in a simple style and there were no other obvious signs -- at first glace, she looked like a boy.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">In the ensuing months, she has changed her appearance, adding some tints/highlights to her hair (still very short). She almost always wears a sweatshirt over her white shirt and blue pants (school uniform).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">She's had students give her a hard time about her appearance, some incidents within sexual harassment, imho, (no legal repercussions, sadly), but is a valuable part of our class.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Today, as part of our school-wide Career Day festivities, several classes were part of an assembly with a guest speaker who identified herself as a "magnificent motivational speaker", and she was very good. She called several students up from the audience, asking them about their plans for the future, and encouraging them to start now (these are 7th graders) to make specific plans - not only going to college, but what specific college, and classes needed to achieve a specific career ("Doctor"? Not good enough, one had to tell her what specialty...)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">So this student is called up (she volunteered!) and was the last of the four in a group. I could tell she was very nervous, but I was also very proud of her for going up in front of a couple of hundred students. When the speaker got to her, she asked her name, age, and career interest. My student was very quiet, and it was hard to hear her speak. The guest speaker misheard the name, and instead announced a similar sounding boy's name. The interview continued, with my student announcing that she would like to be a police officer. Great. "Detective, Patrol Officer, or Investigator?" Not sure.<br /><br />The speaker then turned to the audience, and said, "some of you, unfortunately, may have to deal with this young man when he takes into custody..." Huge laughter. The speaker thought the laughter was about the 'arrest', and chastised them for it. My student was shrinking back -- her back literally against the wall (well, the front of the stage). She finally touched the speaker's arm, and told her "I'm a girl"<br /><br />The speaker didn't apologize for the mistake, but instead went on about "well, nobody said girls couldn't do anything they wanted to!"<br /><br />My student got back to her seat, and thankfully, was welcomed warmly by (most) of her own classmates.<br /><br />Later, I got a chance to talk to her about it. I congratulated her on going up, and she told me that "I felt like I was going to throw up." She didn't seem to want to talk about the 'young man' thing, but I did decide to give her the pair of Dodger tickets I had been given as part of a school-wide student incentive program. I'm going to talk to her more on Monday.<br /></span></span>Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-90265475833667294672009-05-27T17:12:00.000-07:002009-05-27T17:24:15.936-07:00Another 'hair' story<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">As promised--<br /><br />This happened 19 years ago, when my niece, Angela, was three years old (she's the youngest of my sister's three & the only girl). My sister was coming out of the shower and my niece happened to notice the hair 'down there'. Angela asked why <span style="font-style: italic;">she</span> didn't have hair there. My sister explained to her that "that hair starts to grow when you're about 13 years old."<br /><br />Angela seemed satisfied.<br /><br />A couple of days later was my nephew Jason's (my sister's oldest) 13th birthday. That morning, Angela burst into Jason's room and blurted out, "JASON! Check your thing and see if hair went sproing!"<br /><br />Jason was not amused.<br /></span></span>Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-47610104154807360962009-05-26T18:27:00.000-07:002009-05-26T18:39:34.660-07:00Kids say (well, read) the darndest thingsMy seventh graders are deep in the "human growth and development" (aka 'puberty') part of their Health course and today, they were doing some vocabulary worksheets that included the term 'pubic hair'.<br /><br />Of course, several of them, being unfamiliar with that particular word (no, not the word <span style="font-style: italic;">hair</span>) added a letter to make it recognizable.<br /><br />The letter 'l' slipped in very nicely between the 'b' and 'i'. While making a nice, easy-to-read word, the meaning loses something...<br /><br />"public hair"<br /><br />Tomorrow - more body parts, and their functions (monthly that is...)<br /><br />Wish me luck. (If you must chortle, please do so quietly)Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-87229514504379461872009-05-22T14:55:00.001-07:002009-05-22T15:10:55.372-07:00Time to catch up<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq35huygNgdJRL9wvEV4JiwvARaVVQZDLlRuMORaoVPizzx6TYDNcsRUpp0pr1yhMzEr47qeZnEqRSC8o1-IumboQ5ZlvkYDXaeri5h2XF_GHqf_lQMxwDOIBxcSjuEzjsTAC-XXkAuSNR/s1600-h/OMalley.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq35huygNgdJRL9wvEV4JiwvARaVVQZDLlRuMORaoVPizzx6TYDNcsRUpp0pr1yhMzEr47qeZnEqRSC8o1-IumboQ5ZlvkYDXaeri5h2XF_GHqf_lQMxwDOIBxcSjuEzjsTAC-XXkAuSNR/s200/OMalley.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338771627726341010" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">It has been a long time, I've been busy (and yes, lazy), but I finally decided to update.<br /><br />O'Malley the kitten has settled in very nicely. At first, Fido was confused, and did give me a bit of a cold shoulder (even though I was very conscientious about giving him some extra attention...). But now the two of them are cuddled up together under the table.<br /><br />At work, things are very busy. State testing ended last week, and my testing group at least appeared to give their best efforts. There have been other battles with bureaucracy, and even some skirmishes within our own department. I'm caught in the middle on one of them, and will have to use my position as most senior member of the department to get what, 90% of the teachers agree, is what's actually best for the kids.<br /><br />And then, there's my Dodgers. Despite the Manny news, the guys are doing a pretty good job. I'm off to the game tonight against the Angels.<br /></span></span>Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-62467739812943703482009-04-27T18:46:00.000-07:002009-04-27T18:57:14.460-07:00VOX POPULII<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-9PPNVIzOfbw2341lyHK1P0A2heQw3AJzkqT5I_gtkPxUtJg7aGC45wxF1SpZHjw1m8YTf5xRW-cMXsOAa5MITw_nfh1_-0BR4vN3shyphenhypheneO9z7SQLzfh0kXkhYplAmlRNnEDIqRy_08DZT/s1600-h/SOT3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-9PPNVIzOfbw2341lyHK1P0A2heQw3AJzkqT5I_gtkPxUtJg7aGC45wxF1SpZHjw1m8YTf5xRW-cMXsOAa5MITw_nfh1_-0BR4vN3shyphenhypheneO9z7SQLzfh0kXkhYplAmlRNnEDIqRy_08DZT/s200/SOT3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329553398108951426" border="0" /></a><br />I'm so proud of the kids at school. They've taken another public action to help support the teachers facing lay-offs. This morning, they got LAUSD Board President Monica Garcia to show up at a 7:15 am rally in front of the school.<br /><br />This is the third rally they've organized. We've had plenty of media coverage (though today's was disappointingly light).<br /><br />Board President Garcia continued the same-ol-same-ol rhetoric about budge<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkJMDu5Fj9fQhcvPrROQ-psMzjWglqIF41Jw-B2pSj_QmFiTfS9vWoFIh94aoAEo9UGN8Qx2eIJmFLLgvjtq71XrN_QkFWXRbY5UG_KbW9cZfV4k8_LzQcXzpTCXHGDK9qIl0RpOhWWPYn/s1600-h/SOT2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkJMDu5Fj9fQhcvPrROQ-psMzjWglqIF41Jw-B2pSj_QmFiTfS9vWoFIh94aoAEo9UGN8Qx2eIJmFLLgvjtq71XrN_QkFWXRbY5UG_KbW9cZfV4k8_LzQcXzpTCXHGDK9qIl0RpOhWWPYn/s200/SOT2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329554483240214242" border="0" /></a>t woes (but didn't address the fact that millions of dollars are being hidden in back-door budget lines)<br />Some of the kids managed to 'stay' on the line past the first bell (and perhaps a teacher or two...) much to the consternat<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4P_RnZOtrs7DGkjyVwErvgUhAw91sshO9fxFqUJfI_Gv-oY-P0U0lb6YeBWD7K-q04sNS43TenZSN57MNL995E3F1Ln0fNQCT10d_Hdi_Lytu_w0gEHGOJq6ltQPA0OJJh1Y_QNOD31Kc/s1600-h/SOT1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4P_RnZOtrs7DGkjyVwErvgUhAw91sshO9fxFqUJfI_Gv-oY-P0U0lb6YeBWD7K-q04sNS43TenZSN57MNL995E3F1Ln0fNQCT10d_Hdi_Lytu_w0gEHGOJq6ltQPA0OJJh1Y_QNOD31Kc/s200/SOT1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329554622712417378" border="0" /></a>ion of our own administration (the principal did sneak in a few words with Monica during our rally -- taking her away from the opportunity to answer some crucial questions from students)Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-85720283320026828392009-04-14T20:46:00.000-07:002009-04-14T21:30:29.617-07:00Way coolSometimes, you're just in the right place at the right time.<br />Last Thursday, I got an email from the LA Dodgers Booster Club (I've been a member since 1997). The Dodgers were looking for some volunteers to help with rehearsals for their home Opening Day celebrations. Would I like to participate?<br />You becha!<br />Friday afternoon I get to the stadium and find a group of people waiting for the rehearsal. Turns out that there are two rehearsal groups - one to fill-in for Dodger players and the other for an on-field display.<br />I got in with the display group.<br />We went behind the centerfield wall and national flags from 30 different countries were being handed out. I tried to get Japan first (I went to Tokyo in 2007 and saw three JPL games), but it was given to a woman. I got China (I went to Tokyo via Beijing), but when Scotland came up I swapped (my grandfather was born in Dundee).<br />We rehearsed our routine -- marching along the warning track; stop; wait for a music cue; march towards the infield and line up along the outer rim; wait for some announcements and the national anthem; march back out along the warning track and through the centerfield gate.<br />The flags were fairly large (the poles were close to eight feet long) so we had to use harnesses.<br />We repeated the process two more times (with a couple of tweaks - one significant change had us rimming the inner infield grass).<br />The next day (Saturday) we had another two hour rehearsal. We were rocking.<br />Monday morning (Opening Day) I get to Dodger Stadium at 9:30 am - three hours before our performance. We were given plain dark-ash tee shirts and got to hang out as the final touches were put on the stadium.<br />Shortly after we started our final preps - we were already inside the stadium, Dodger owner Frank McCourt came through the centerfield gate. The person with China took a picture with him (his request), then Norway got a picture. I pushed my way up to him and asked if he'd take "one more, with Sco<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfkXLRsur01jYEXzHpEPmjMeC0SW1qKWCJt6xFer7Yo5EJuwyPYUZFLZ_9h121uHpdQCK5czgAQS_2HsPx8c2fnsnPC43PnacUiDeHyfVT9wSuI7zO4rywbNQlg3Zd7xd_OuBvbIxcjr75/s1600-h/Me+and+Frank.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfkXLRsur01jYEXzHpEPmjMeC0SW1qKWCJt6xFer7Yo5EJuwyPYUZFLZ_9h121uHpdQCK5czgAQS_2HsPx8c2fnsnPC43PnacUiDeHyfVT9wSuI7zO4rywbNQlg3Zd7xd_OuBvbIxcjr75/s200/Me+and+Frank.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324767305065591074" border="0" /></a>tland" He said, "Well, I wouldn't want to anger my Irish ancestors, but OK.<br />The actual performance started. While we were waiting along the outfield wall, I found myself five feet away from multiple Cy Young Award winner (and starting picture for the visiting San Francisco Giants) Randy Johnson. He's about 6'7 and weighs in at about 6 lbs (well, maybe a bit more, but he's skinny as a rail).<br />We continued our routine - I stepped on first base as we went into position - in front of over 57,000 fans. Once our part of the ceremony was over, we headed out (and I stepped on third base!)<br />My moment in the sun was over. An amazing thrill (even though I've been on the field before - I've done First Pitch three or four times, along with a couple of other special events), this was very different.<br />When I got home, I checked my TiVO of the pregame show and I got about 1.5 seconds air time. I'm also a minuscule blur on the front page of the Long Beach Press Telegram.<br />And the kicker -- the Dodger Boosters were supposed to be in the "fill-in" group (no actual game day performance!)Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-59930205121907549292009-04-06T14:24:00.000-07:002009-04-06T14:47:07.469-07:00A Page from PepeAfter reading Pepe's blog about the week from H-E-double hockey sticks, I thought I'd add my own.<br /><br />AKA "It was a long year last week."<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Monday</span> we had a tough rehearsal. Still lots of squirreliness (as posted).<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Tuesday</span> was supposed to be "get home right away" but I got caught in another meeting with our MESA/Science Bowl team (I'm not a Science Bowl coach, but I happened to walk into the teacher's room after school and got drafted.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Wednesday</span> was a double-dip. After the "dress rehearsal", I had to boogie downtown for a major UTLA House of Reps meeting. I had to miss my sub-committee meeting and just got into the main meeting for the start. We had some major debate on the new contract (the House finally voted to recommend a "no" vote to the general membership). We next had more raucous debate on proposing a one-day strike (illegal) to support the pink-slipped teachers. I finally got home just before 10pm.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Thursday</span> was performance day (see below).<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Friday</span> I had to get to school extra early (apx 5:30 am) because I was part of a committee hosting our annual Spring Break breakfast. It was a great event, everyone enjoyed the food and camaraderie, but I was on my feet the whole time. We also had to get 10-week report card grades in before noon. After school was another meeting with the Science Bowl team.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Saturday</span> was another early start for the MESA Day finals at USC. I had to be at school by 6:15 am. About a quarter of the kids hadn't submitted all of the paperwork, so I had to chase them down before they got on the bus, then as we were trundling down the 110 I had to put the paper work in order. Then, when we get to the site, they tell me "you can just hold on to the paperwork." Next, 90% of the restrooms were locked -- not good planning with several hundred middle schoolers on campus (not to mention a certain Advisor). By the time I got to the hospitality room I was ready for a major explosion.<br /><br />But, we did really good in the competitions, taking about a third of the available medals, including sweeps in Geometry, Algebra, and Craftstick bridges.<br /><br />And today is the first day of Spring Break; real baseball is on the air and Fido did good when I took him for his nail trim. Maybe I'll make it after all.Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-72650251741827110432009-04-02T21:14:00.000-07:002009-04-02T21:36:17.587-07:00Pass the Tony, pleaseWell, Performance Day has come and gone.<br /><br />We were supposed to have a full dress rehearsal Wednesday night, but had so many interruptions, restarts and stops for just-plain-foolishness new never got through everything. We had to stop after one squirrel jumped off the stairs backstage (screwing around) and twisted his knee (our star drummer, too).<br /><br />I was supposed to do my death makeup for the first time, but that didn't happen either.<br /><br />This morning, again, we were scheduled to have a full run-through/dress rehearsal before the afternoon performance. I finally did get a chance to do some makeup (thank the maker for the two girls who helped!) With less than 30 min before our first audience was to show, things were still very much Squirrel City (but, fortunately, our not-so-flying squirrel drummer was fully recovered).<br /><br />Then, amazingly enough, magic time.<br /><br />The backstage area was quiet. Everyone hit their marks (well, came close at least) and we finished just a few minutes over the allotted time.<br /><br />There were a few gaffs (I had one myself -- I missed by crossover cue (with curtains closed) and had to wait for the next -- this meant my makeup artist had about three min (instead of about 10) to get me ready for death. But she got it done, and the gasps from the students when I appeared well-bloodied and pale were most satisfying.<br /><br />Our Macbeth pulled off a nifty bit of improv when, just before my ghostly entrance, Banquo was delayed (again, makeup difficulties) Lady M, Macbeth, and some of their new entourage and drinking toasts to celebrate their usurping ... Banquo misses his cue, so Macbeth orders "some refills!" It worked.<br /><br />The kids in the audience really seemed to enjoy the show... lots of cheers (and oohs! for a throat-slit teacher :-))<br /><br />The evening performance went even better (I hit my cross-over cue), and, all-in-all, I was very pleased (and also very glad the whole thing is over and done with!)<br /><br />I'll try to get some pics from parents...Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-91003972908587082402009-03-30T19:06:00.000-07:002009-03-30T19:19:30.096-07:00Near the endWe're getting very close (performance day is Thursday). Here's a rehearsal for the murder of Banquo. (Later on, we both get to be ghosts and scare the beejeepers out of Macbeth)<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzdORe_gd3oColKrkVlJy6afAJjj21M1F6q2Fhsg9Gy62iSfMmEL3qHd_E1uzHo2HYY7s-MlpYIj3UEmJDyeg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dz-Yn5Qer9I2IuQSjRUukfxROVBGzswy3PgN9QCIUCI-GfpQ7iB5fCzlqC9L_Xrsqwq7_7WBSsFiT-RHAegMg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-60460832442922334012009-03-26T20:14:00.000-07:002009-03-26T20:25:01.529-07:00One Week to GoRehearsals for <span style="font-style:italic;">The Scottish Play</span> have taken a new aspect. We're actually making progress. The squirrelliness has virtually disappeared, people are hitting their marks, and most of the cast is fully "off book". Just this afternoon, the Thane of Ross, who has a long speech right at the beginning, nailed it.<br /><br />I've been fitted for my costume, but still haven't seen my makeup. I don't know if my ghost persona will be merely pale or Kabuki-flat white. We have another rehearsal tomorrow, and then a full dress rehearsal on Wednesday before performance on Thursday.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">on with the show, this is it!</span>Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-7734744875707970062009-03-11T20:42:00.000-07:002009-03-11T21:03:35.713-07:00More ShakespeareRehearsals for <span style="font-style:italic;">the Scottish Play</span> continue. We've done most of the blocking, and are working on timing. Most of the kids are good, and dedicated -- but we've got a couple of real squirrels (especially the drummers -- yikes!).<br /><br />We've also had some issues with dedication -- kids flaking out, not showing for rehearsal, and just being too dang busy. Our director is going quietly nutz.<br /><br />We're going to have two actual performances, one for the students during school, and another later that evening. I'm being a real trooper (if I do say so myself), since the date is the same as the Dodgers/Angels preseason game at Blue Heaven on Earth (aka Dodger Stadium) - Thursday, April 2.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">No more this Thane of Cawdor shall deceive our bossom interests. Go, proclaim his present death. And with his former title, greet Macbeth.</span><br /><br />(Except our Thane of Cawdor is being played by a girl -- so I'll say 'her')Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-42846066939324168632009-03-01T19:36:00.000-08:002009-03-01T19:43:13.721-08:00Fossils<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggjcmbIx2hPi_zUfQcLkITN5WMRgevjuDafsB189cP6jvLRUWQqi22XpStw1lDfDo3puCTT_sz3y5RNxXkt9WpdvR_0fGISsOiS3iJRZ7gtahffI0yqjrskfKCQGjKjwYiSbcFndWU2z-U/s1600-h/275A+043.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggjcmbIx2hPi_zUfQcLkITN5WMRgevjuDafsB189cP6jvLRUWQqi22XpStw1lDfDo3puCTT_sz3y5RNxXkt9WpdvR_0fGISsOiS3iJRZ7gtahffI0yqjrskfKCQGjKjwYiSbcFndWU2z-U/s200/275A+043.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308430883253201442" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7FbHYHTpuxtZfiD9Pm63sqZfSyCWiEXyB8xZaX8GKTPwtCcGtYvMMyXf435ZXP764o1v9peT5TYPx3wA9k8lmnTsV0A_eUBxMu4Y4bpoodpMxg9tHtSqxcCHhA2SNYPdp3Q_SOVPbrloB/s1600-h/275A+035.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7FbHYHTpuxtZfiD9Pm63sqZfSyCWiEXyB8xZaX8GKTPwtCcGtYvMMyXf435ZXP764o1v9peT5TYPx3wA9k8lmnTsV0A_eUBxMu4Y4bpoodpMxg9tHtSqxcCHhA2SNYPdp3Q_SOVPbrloB/s200/275A+035.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308430548644132930" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJqMdgEJyV0eOZBeFFmeXK9umByXJQ7EYuor4hwyTwloCS4hZ3w6S-JwJOI39NfrGewBJ_I0A18SaQMJx5i8WSEYTIPZAQRzUOaC9G5fjwuNpN-58ij6DPJLuQfV_Xxldl1I1O77zDIuMZ/s1600-h/275A+006.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJqMdgEJyV0eOZBeFFmeXK9umByXJQ7EYuor4hwyTwloCS4hZ3w6S-JwJOI39NfrGewBJ_I0A18SaQMJx5i8WSEYTIPZAQRzUOaC9G5fjwuNpN-58ij6DPJLuQfV_Xxldl1I1O77zDIuMZ/s200/275A+006.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308430197804338370" /></a><br />The seventh graders did a quick activity Friday, creating model fossils. They had fun, and some of them even remembered that these were "cast" fossils. I had them write about their experience.Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-365985515103049462009-02-26T21:58:00.000-08:002009-02-26T22:07:42.416-08:00Rehersals<span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Second week of rehersals for </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" >the Scottish play</span><span style="font-size:130%;">, and things are moving right along. The teacher in charge has done quite a bit of cutting -- we'll only have about 45 minutes to present the whole thing. Some of the kids are really good, but most are not really into it.<br />My only lines are in Scene 1, but I do have one other major scene (right before my off-stage de-throating). Later I get to haunt the perpetrators in my bloody Royal nightshirt.<br />A lot of work - but I think it will be cool.</span><br /></span></span>Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-56654754295693290612009-02-17T17:13:00.000-08:002009-02-17T17:22:07.311-08:00Another Opening, Another Show...The Drama Club at my school has decided to put on a production of <span style="font-style: italic;">"the Scottish play" - </span>yes, I know my theatre traditions - it's a good selection for the middle school thespian, since there is plenty of sword-play but very little smooching.<br /><br />And guess who has been tabbed with the role of King Duncan?<br /><br />Yep. It's Good to be the King.<br /><br />Rehearsals start this week, with Opening Night (hit it, Mel!) set for the first week of March. I may even get to wear a kilt!<br /><br />I think the kids will get a charge out of seeing their teacher on stage (do I have a death scene?)Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-29431473075577638802009-02-08T09:33:00.000-08:002009-02-08T09:44:32.141-08:00Dreams<span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Last night I had a very vivid dream -- about camping in the mountains. We had a nice cabin, and everyone had a great time. My uncle was there with his son.<br /><br />But this wasn't my cousin (he's in his 30s now). This was one of my students.<br /><br />Friday was the last day of the Fall Semester, so things have been busy. Starting Monday, my 7th grade Science class changes to Health -- with a major unit on you-know-what.<br /></span></span>Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-19616696486792298092009-02-05T19:05:00.000-08:002009-02-08T09:46:48.139-08:00You're pathetic! (ha ha ha)<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Or, more accurately, "we're just as inept as you, so we shouldn't really bash you guys for being stupid. But we do."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">I recently was elected to membership in the major governing body of a major collective-bargaining entity, currently in major conflict with a mega-sized overseeing mortibound bureaucracy. Wednesday night was my first meeting. Much of the first 45 minutes was taken up rancorous discussions and the </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" >format</span><span style="font-family:georgia;"> of the new agenda - items had been moved around. The parliamentarian -- a professional parliamentarian not a member of the aforementioned collective-bargaining entity, constantly tried to explain that the new format actually followed criteria mandated in </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" >Roberts Rules of Order (Revised).</span><span style="font-family:georgia;"> Nonetheless, there was enough whining that we eventually voted to use the old agenda format, sending the new one back to be reviewed by a special committee.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">We proceeded with the meeting (all the while, I could see the parliamentarian shaking his head in exasperation), and managed to get some vital information and make some important decisions.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Then came some additional motions (all previously submitted in writing, as per both the new and old rules) of a political nature -- involving international events (we are solely a local enterprise, though local politics could be germane to our functions).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Cue the major rancor -- and part of the process involved complex parliamentary procedures -- there were nine motions presented at the same time, but three of them were "pulled" -- various members wanting them to be discussed and voted on separately. The remaining six motions (again, all clearly within the purview of our organization) were adopted without objection.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">When the first of the "pulled" motions was brought forward, there was a motion to table discussion (try to follow the minutiae of procedures here), which meant there would be discussion on if we should table discussion. During this discussion (the original motion involved events in Israel), a member used the phrase "...as a Jew, I feel..." standing behind him, another member said, not-quite under her breath, "So now you're a Jew?"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Yep - school-yard name calling/dissing/stupidity in a major downtown high-rise professional building.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">And before anything else could happen, another member challenged "call for a quorum" -- well, by this time (a good three hours into the meeting), there were only about a third of the </span><s style="font-family: georgia;">hearty</s><span style="font-family:georgia;"> </span><s style="font-family: georgia;">souls</s><span style="font-family:georgia;"> </span><s style="font-family: georgia;">fools</s><span style="font-family:georgia;"> members remaining, so the chair declared the meeting over. Done. Right then. Finito.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Professional, educated folks -- all with advanced college degrees -- acting like four-year-olds in serious need of nap time.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Of course, I'll be back for the next meeting in a month.</span><br /></span></span></span>Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-17877121642978397782009-02-01T11:53:00.000-08:002009-02-01T19:59:57.274-08:00My JERKs<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTJuRRyhkKYMfy_MfBQttp956ugVdy2KU6oEK_QFFNNBFyocf36re-1JkHNQSCpS0VSV9s6KDZhDBciToSohmI5tO7B084dUW7O6GkdbNkU_ckT4ahVlZCMBHIz6FlONM2mCvYlaetzeG9/s1600-h/Legoland+Robotics+040.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 246px; height: 185px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTJuRRyhkKYMfy_MfBQttp956ugVdy2KU6oEK_QFFNNBFyocf36re-1JkHNQSCpS0VSV9s6KDZhDBciToSohmI5tO7B084dUW7O6GkdbNkU_ckT4ahVlZCMBHIz6FlONM2mCvYlaetzeG9/s200/Legoland+Robotics+040.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297923486952554818" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;" >Kevin (Raymond?), Juliana, Juan and Raymond (Kevin?)</span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:130%;" ><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:130%;" ><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" >Well, our second robotics tournament is in the books.<br /><br />We only had four of the ten team members present -- but they had fun.<br /><br />First round, still rather nervous and a bit unorganized, they only completed two missions (a third was disallowed). We got some inspiration (that is to say, we stole some strategy plans) from a couple of teams and managed some quick reprogramming and building to pull off six missions in the second round - a team best. We were confident that the third round would be even better.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj82glayeV6hyphenhyphenUUTDMDz7Fdl4axuNHkQWcU97b-sEsyogVUFLdSykxLIk3rjfQRQjZ97A3hJ91iffXGw_s9h9xLbP9Sk4k50EYWfNccNOqc_yKIzC9c7jQlCBo1_d4OnGEwnCQdvIbuf0Hl/s1600-h/Legoland+Robotics+018.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 246px; height: 185px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj82glayeV6hyphenhyphenUUTDMDz7Fdl4axuNHkQWcU97b-sEsyogVUFLdSykxLIk3rjfQRQjZ97A3hJ91iffXGw_s9h9xLbP9Sk4k50EYWfNccNOqc_yKIzC9c7jQlCBo1_d4OnGEwnCQdvIbuf0Hl/s200/Legoland+Robotics+018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297923156686532738" border="0" /></a></span><span style=";font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-size:85%;">Kevin and Raymond (Raymond and Kevin?) at the competition table.</span><br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" >But disaster struck -- just as the twins hit the 'run' button, the left rear tire fell off - and repairs took up most of the allotted 2 minutes, so only one mission got completed.<br /><br />However, the kids quickly recovered and had a blast at LEGOLAND. This will probably be the last event for this team -- I'll start recruiting the '09-'10 version sometime in March. We were given another robot, so I should be able to field 6th and 7th grade teams.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:130%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg7Tw3qHhasZni9hr3KFiQkfWbaKbLzXIM4iglRUJc4oCsVLqD7BEkVS4mmuI4HibWH2tXcAQZ7iXKWS_RFyTk-hbYNbvA7sQ2jYCy9IW1g3-VsMiMT0OWxR6wj78cPvzbedamkz2bUVXJ/s1600-h/Legoland+Robotics+034.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 231px; height: 173px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg7Tw3qHhasZni9hr3KFiQkfWbaKbLzXIM4iglRUJc4oCsVLqD7BEkVS4mmuI4HibWH2tXcAQZ7iXKWS_RFyTk-hbYNbvA7sQ2jYCy9IW1g3-VsMiMT0OWxR6wj78cPvzbedamkz2bUVXJ/s200/Legoland+Robotics+034.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297923795363372178" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-size:85%;">The folks at LEGOLAND put up a great show.</span><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >They liked the medals, too!</span><br /></div></div>Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9124018848337202627.post-27194659116343938272009-01-27T21:00:00.000-08:002009-01-27T21:56:54.439-08:0017<span style="font-family: times new roman;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >This week, NASA will be remember three very dark days.<br /><br />Six years ago, I wrote this -- something I had to do at the time.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center; font-family: times new roman;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">~17~</span></span><br /></div><span style="font-family: times new roman;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center; font-family: times new roman;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_UoHeApq29fMw7N4v7CB2hXQ4eqRFuUoeGWUu1MSpAkBzlIaF5hf6rCjonhtQNtufWYSpr7t3gsRubWKZfUbic2V5BhYqo__ycyvCec-7iTkAkwb6tU1zdOpW9YAMrt9FnkXBg-NneuVK/s1600-h/Apollo+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 137px; height: 110px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_UoHeApq29fMw7N4v7CB2hXQ4eqRFuUoeGWUu1MSpAkBzlIaF5hf6rCjonhtQNtufWYSpr7t3gsRubWKZfUbic2V5BhYqo__ycyvCec-7iTkAkwb6tU1zdOpW9YAMrt9FnkXBg-NneuVK/s200/Apollo+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296216596606433906" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Virgil, Ed & Roger - Apollo 1</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">January 27, 1967</span><br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: times new roman;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >I am a space-eyed 9-year-old. I come home after a tough day in school (it takes a lot of effort to terrorize a seasoned 4th grade teacher). My sister tells me of the tragic fire in Florida. Three astronauts of Apollo 1 have died. America may not get to the moon by the end of the decade. This 9-year-old, who at first doesn’t believe his sister (older sisters do those kinds of things, you know), wanders out to the front porch. My first thoughts – perhaps I can still see the smoke from the fire. Then it will be real to my mind. But Cape Kennedy is over 3,000 miles away. (I did know enough geography to look to the southeast!) I get to watch the moving funerals, which remind me of President Kennedy’s just over 3 years earlier. Walter Cronkite is fatherly, supportive, calm, and tells us that yes, we will make it to the moon. My faith in the space program is renewed. I still don’t trust my sister (wink).<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center; font-family: times new roman;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGc9ECsGEZpnCzg6pHS6pyldQfo-kW2F5SivBa63DzunZt_-TK4FEIKWM-0jiL2H-kfpyQi_viBBbzFYGNhOT-fD4ZoLAOD_x4cXORTTDIasMGLo9gF-aRdzkHrhdq7zsL3flO00sFIB-o/s1600-h/Challenger.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 139px; height: 102px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGc9ECsGEZpnCzg6pHS6pyldQfo-kW2F5SivBa63DzunZt_-TK4FEIKWM-0jiL2H-kfpyQi_viBBbzFYGNhOT-fD4ZoLAOD_x4cXORTTDIasMGLo9gF-aRdzkHrhdq7zsL3flO00sFIB-o/s200/Challenger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296217000264478882" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Francis, Michael, Judy, Ellison, Ron, Greg & Christa – Challenger STS51L</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">January 28, 1986</span><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: times new roman;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" ><br />Nearly two full decades have passed. Americans landed on the moon. The “Successful Failure” of Apollo 13 showed the world that space can be beaten. I am still very much space-eyed, but now 28 and searching for a career. Home for the day, I have to hunt for a live picture of the launch, finally finding it on cable TV’s CNN. I curl up under a blanket to watch a teacher lift off into space. (While I wouldn’t start college for another year yet, the idea of teaching as a career was just beginning to percolate in my consciousness.) I felt a small bit of camaraderie with the folks at Kennedy. It was a bitter cold day there, too. (This was a Southern Californian's "bitter cold" day, probably about 55° F) America has become complacent with the space program. The sight of fragile humans, strapped atop millions of pounds of high explosive in a barely controlled series of explosions, is as commonplace as the night’s basketball scores. As the image of that compellingly beautiful but monstrously hideous white “Y” formed in the brilliant blue Florida sky unfolds before me, I’m stunned. The solid rocket boosters skittering out of control makes me think of pictures of the earliest days of the American space program. They called them “Puffniks”. We couldn’t do anything right. The Russian Bear was master of the Cosmos. It was depressing. The words “obviously a major malfunction” came over the speaker. A huge understatement that would haunt the nation as TV news finally awoke. This day would be compared with December 7, 1941 and November 22, 1963. We later learned that that national malaise, spread even to our brilliant Rocket Scientists, was in part to blame for the destruction of Challenger. The rush to make spaceflight a profit-making, rather then a knowledge-growing endeavor would cost noble lives. In 1998 I achieved a long-anticipated dream, and got to visit Kennedy Space Center. The Astronaut Memorial left me speechless. The sight of Pad 39A, the huge, flag-bedecked Vertical Assembly Building and familiar countdown clock brought back a flood of memories. I mourned and rejoiced at the same time.<br /><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center; font-family: times new roman;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCIdc9EZAnKGDaDGhWfgjXSaocKXeWdlr6gmRucLGmlYiD95Xo0o-9uTu_f9wRQV5uzQEdSlenedokqtB2tNdyvnOvBTFs-fgnK-hiWMhsQLvIKckgm3MH4Gv0p3hUchyZ9VItbj_VG6zh/s1600-h/Columbia.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 137px; height: 137px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCIdc9EZAnKGDaDGhWfgjXSaocKXeWdlr6gmRucLGmlYiD95Xo0o-9uTu_f9wRQV5uzQEdSlenedokqtB2tNdyvnOvBTFs-fgnK-hiWMhsQLvIKckgm3MH4Gv0p3hUchyZ9VItbj_VG6zh/s200/Columbia.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296217269524837394" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rick, Willie, David, Michael, Laurel, Kalpana, & Ilan – Columbia STS107</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">February 1, 2003</span><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: times new roman;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" ><br />The wonder hasn’t left my eyes, or my heart. I’m now a teacher, following Christa McAuliffe’s pledge to “touch the future”. Just three days ago, I spent valuable class time to recount to my students the feelings I experienced those 17 years earlier. I fear that my story, with images as fresh to me as yesterday, must have seemed like tales of Camelot, or even dinosaurs, to my charges. Then came Saturday morning. I woke early, with a full day of housekeeping and school paperwork ahead of me. I was watching a rerun of M*A*S*H, finishing off my breakfast when a curious message scrolled across the bottom of the screen. “For breaking news on the Space Shuttle Columbia, tune to FOX News”. I knew the shuttle would be landing this morning. It was another historic flight. 16 days – longer than most shuttle flights, and full of science. No visit to the International Space Station, the recent routine for shuttle flights of late. The presence of an Israeli astronaut was noteworthy. His devotion evident by his bringing a Holocaust treasure (a tiny <span style="font-style: italic;">Torah</span> smuggled into a death camp) into space with him. Like the rest of the world, I anticipated a smooth landing. But the first sight that I comprehended, before I was conscious of the words being spoken, was of white contrails, streaming down in ever spreading lines. <span style="font-style: italic;">The Shuttle doesn’t do that</span>. That 9-year-old’s naïveté had long ago given way to the harshness of mature reality. <span style="font-style: italic;">Columbia</span> had broken up. Astronauts had died again. As with many others, after the global mindset-changing events of September 11, 2001, I thought of the Israeli astronaut. What a coup for those devilish fanatics. But as the details trickled in, I quickly realized that this was no terrorist action. It was another “major malfunction.” As the day wore on, we could see the flotsam that was once a magnificent orbiter spread across the Texas countryside. The investigation began, data gathered, questions asked and theories floated (Cronkite, your soothing voice is sorely missed). I finally pulled myself away to complete some mundane weekend tasks – unexpectedly becoming a much needed tonic rather than mere chores. Writing is a catharsis. Time, and knowledge, will be the treatment.</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br />17 stars touch the Face of God<br />In time, we will learn why. We will learn how. We will return to space.<br />The 17 will be joined by others. We will return once again.<br />We will grow. We will survive. We will reach the stars, together.<br />We will not forget the 17</span></div>Molaholichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16534388931189132982noreply@blogger.com1