Two seats. Two sets of pedals. One steering mechanism.
This contraption is truely a compatibility test for couples that surpasses what you could get on those many of those “online dating” sites. You go through several stages on one of these things. The first, of course, it, “Hey, that looks like fun.” Next comes, “Okay, you are pedaling too (fast | slow) for me, could you (relax | pick up the pace)?” Then comes, “In order to steer this thing, we have to work together.” Then there’s a stop and a short break, followed by a pep talk by the one whose idea it wasn’t to stop and take a short break.
Then there’s communication. Deep communication unlike what was occuring before. Decisions on speed and direction are seemingly made and executed simultaneously. You turn to your mate and see she’s smiling. You realize you are too.
Riding on a side-by-side bicycle built for two on the Katy Trail near Rocheport is an education and a ton of fun at the same time.
Hello friends. Yes, this is a new post. It’s been nearly a year, and some of you may be wondering why it’s been so long. It’s simple.
I dropped out.
I’m generally a pretty well-adjusted and happy guy. I’ve always worked hard, enjoyed spending time with my wife, and tried to stay connected to and participate in society and culture. I enjoyed getting into the blogging scene and experimenting with the medium. I had no audience, really, except for those who are close to me, but I know my playful attempts to add something to the Internet will be out there in the ether, along with countless other individuals’ similar musings.
But the Internet is a communication medium, and my dropping out probably has more to do with a change I’ve seen since my early days on the web. I put my first page up in 1995. Things were very different then. There was no real formula for contrubuting. Bright flashing animated graphics, music in the background and links to cool things that popped up on the web were the norm, I guess. People took care in what they posted, there was a community responsibility to add value to the internet in the process of crafting a presence for yourself. But somewhere along the way, anonymity took over and the results of that have snowballed ever since.
I first noticed the shift on Usenet news groups. There, new identities were much easier to create than a webpage presence, and people started assuming multiple identities. These people were invariably the folks who would be argumentative, stirring up trouble on the news groups, and delighting in lowering the level of discourse. They are known as “trolls.” The multiple identities often times were used to back up the original troll identity, pretending to lend support and keep the regular members angry.
Anonymity breeds cruel and hateful behavior. The more savvy internet contributors get, the further away from the original ethic of contributing positively we get and the more trolls with their “nym” armies start “flame wars” and then enjoy the fireworks. With no reputation at stake, people who used to post technology articles to social media sites like digg.com are now vastly outnumbered by people spouting hostility. Anonymity on the web = no consequences for hateful behavior.
Even an article submitted telling about today’s solar eclipse is met by trolls. One comment:
“What’s new in this? Is it the first Solar Eclipse ever? wtf?”
Anonymity breeds cruel and hateful behavior.
That’s just a technology site. Don’t go looking for intellegent and civil discourse on a site like the Daily KOS. But news sites aren’t the only thing affected by this. In fact, anonymity allows for much, much nastier behavior. For instance, last year a mother created a fake MySpace profile in order to start an online relationship with one of her daughter’s rivals for a spot on the school cheerleading squad. The resulting harassment inflicted on the teen eventually caused her to commit suicide.
This is not the Internet I knew when I made my first page. That is why I haven’t spent much time inhabiting it. But you know, it doesn’t have to be this way. The web may be anonymity and hostility run amuck, but this little space I’ve carved out can be more. It, along with the spaces of my friends, family, and kindred spirits around the world can make something better here. Something that can provide some good-natured fun and elucidation. Where disagreements don’t end up in name-calling. To contribute to this web, not to degenerate it.
I’m going to start blogging again. On my terms.
Christmas really came fast this year, and even now, it’s hard for me to think it’s over.
I was really in the Christmas spirit, too. My classroom was decorated to a tee. I’ve show others extraordinary patience and kindness to others, including forgiving grouchy people who repeatedly ran their shopping carts into me on Black Friday, taking extra time out to talk with people who just need to talk to someone this time of year, and yeilding to people whose road rage caused them to do something unwise.
In fact, now that the holiday has passed, I don’t want the serenity and joy I’ve gained during this intense, but short Christmas season to end. Christmas may be the celebration of Jesus’s birth, and it’s a time of year that reminds us of the spark of divinity in all of us. But He’s more than a birthday. Yes, I hear an odd calling. I know what I have to do.
I’m going to keep this going as long as I can.
In the United States, you can always find a party. In Soviet Russia, the Party finds you!
That’s the kind of thing I expected when Angie and I went to Yakov Smirnoff’s show in Branson. What I got was a whole lot more.
You see, Yakov is more than just a comedian. He is an art teacher. He is a professor of psychology. He is a writer. He is an actor. He is a traditional Russian dancer. We got a glimpse of each of these facets at his show.
The comedy in his show was family friendly, but sharp. His clever play with the language was like George Carlin without the vulgarity. “I bet you never looked at it that way … but you will now!” was his refrain.
What struck me most about Yakov was his genuine affection and appreciation for America. He spoke in a way that isn’t fashionable now. (more…)
I want to let you know about a website that just launched. It’s called Galaxy Zoo.
After you sign up, you go through a little training before you are presented with questions regarding the classification of galaxies. No, computers are not yet at the point where they can reliably distinguish elliptical and spiral galaxies, viewed from any possible angle and with any number of irregularities.
It’s all good fun, and it helps advance galactic research. “So, what did you do yesterday when it was raining outside?” “I became a member of a research team taking images from the Sloan Digital Sky Survey to classify galaxy shapes so research can be done using the data.” Wouldn’t you like that on your resumé?
The end of the school year is always a melancholy, contemplative time for teachers. We send students off to their next challenges with all the knowledge and experiences we were able to give them during the year. It is also the time of the teacher retirement ceremony, where we say goodbye and farewell to those who have devoted their adult life to the education of children. The true impact of these sad farewells won’t be felt until next fall when that trusted resource, a wealth of experience and information, is no longer with us. But then we will add new teachers, young and full of enthusiasm and energy. It takes both kinds, really, to balance out a good educational staff.
I paused from packing down my classroom for the year to reflect on the year. About then, a teacher I’ve worked with for the past few years came by and put a piece of paper on my desk. It was a page from a teacher’s calendar. By the time I had read it, she had almost slipped out.
Those teachers with the patience to stay true to the task, those teachers with the skill to bring order to the confusion, those teachers with a kind and understanding heart to see all children as capable and worthy, those teachers who teach special education children – these are truly the “saints of education.” – Harry and Rosemary Wong
“Thank you very much, but I don’t think I deserve this.” She turned before she left and said simply, “Yes, you do.”