Thursday, May 31, 2012

The Harder They Fall

I'm not big on conspiracy theory, but that doesn't mean there aren't conspiracies, of which one may be the Fall of Facebook. It intrigues me that Mark Z, a self-admitted ass who dared anyone to challenge him, could hold himself so far above other mere mortals, seemingly bullet-proof, waiting until he chose the time, the place, and the conditions for going public with his company, and have it end in complete and utter humiliation.

Almost as if the Winkelvoss twins master-minded the entire take-down! Pistachios be damned: the boys couldn't win big in a court of law, but they could, with their generations of family resources, win in the marketplace. And that's the only place winning matters: the wallet.

Mark and his new bride have fallen far, but my mother always said that the bigger they are, the harder they fall. People who put themselves above others need what used to be called a comeuppance, a personal take-down to put life into a different perspective, one that sees both sides of success, rather than just the "I won" side. Even Charlie Sheen had to admit that if the only person who believes he is winning is himself, it's not winning: it's losing. People who use other people seem to get what's coming to them, sooner or later, and sometimes, it's a hard hit, much harder than anyone imagined it could be.

Facebook will survive because it defines not just a generation, but a new societal model of interaction that is vital to many people living lives of quiet desperation. Society's lost people find each other on Facebook, sitting isolated in their living spaces and "friending" complete strangers to build a profile of likeability that they can never achieve in the world outside their bedroom doors. People remake themselves into the image they wish they were, refusing to accept personal limitations in favor of public fantasies. People who seldom were featured in their high school yearbooks recreate themselves through their own personal "facebook," a fantasy that appeals even to the most secure over-achiever for whom there never can be enough acclaim.

The stock will rebound; Facebook will go on; but, perhaps, there is a life lesson learned in the process that will change the dynamics of the "I"-centered generation responsible for its creation.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Humming in My Head

The transition from worker bee to retiree has been complex, compounded by a virulent respiratory infection that kept me housebound since returning from the cruise. Judging from the pile of prescriptions and the physical issues accompanying the need for the medications, it's obvious I have an immune issue that must be addressed more firmly and thoroughly before I step into another airplane flying to anywhere!

I did make it to my last two classes, but I honestly don't remember much of it. I did post my final grades as required, but I could not tell you how I accomplished that task. I did not make it to my last graduation, which broke my heart. I drove to the doctor twice, first to see what the hell attacked my legs, and then to deal with it again when the first treatment protocol didn't work. The diagnosis went from sun poisoning to a bacterial infection in two days, accompanied by the respiratory infection that either masked or exacerbated the leg issues. The cough wracked my chest cavity, leaving me breathlessly heaving for air and holding onto my rib cage for dear life.

This was not how I envisioned winding down my career, but few things in my life have ever gone as I anticipated, including my career. I plan and God laughs: S/He enjoys tossing in some unfamiliar ingredients to see what I do with them, often believing more firmly than I that I can, indeed, make lemonade, as well as a host of other tart treats, when given lemons. Being able to roll with the punches has led me in interesting directions, some of which I never would have taken on my own, but it's also brought me the deepest pain of my lifetime, especially when another person's vendetta temporarily cost me my beloved career. The most difficult thing I have ever done was to walk back into a classroom after leaving it for what I believed in my deepest soul was the last time. I learned, however, that it is true: I have to fall to the bottom to have any hope of ever climbing back to the top.

Education has changed in the past 40 years, and not, in my humble opinion, for the better. Instead of analyzing the data of centuries of educational trends and realizing that about 12-15% of all high school graduates actually attend -- and complete -- college, "we" decided that ALL students "need" a college education, so "we" discontinued the majority of educational opportunities that do not conform with that mindset. Hence, the occupational programs disappeared from curricula nationwide; ditto the fine arts, the performing arts, the myriad physical education programs, the field trips, the core literature, the sequence of progressively more challenging classes that take a student from basics to more advanced educational skills. We stripped out what students need and replaced the curricula with what politicians tout to be elected to office: educational parity that begins in the simple, but erroneous, assumption that all students will do equally well if I say they will in front of a TV camera.

Once we no longer maintained high expectations for ourselves and others, we lost the strength necessary to demand more of our students, rather than expecting less. Good ideas morphed into nightmares, including the infamous No Child Left Behind legislation that was a a good idea to achieve educational parity, but destroyed educational opportunities. We dumbed down the curricula in an effort to create artificial success for the under-performing students, rather than re-educating that segment of the population with authentic academic performance that leads to authentic academic success. We are a nation of do-gooders who failed to do good when we actively believed and promoted the idea that students can only be successful when we refuse to allow them to fail. We learn more from failure than we do from meaningless, artificial success, but the public wants to believe that all students are equal and will be the shooting stars of tomorrow who get a good education and a well-paying job, a mantra I've heard so many times that it's hard to believe that anyone still believes it.

Good jobs and a good future demand a good education, but we have forgotten that last part in favor of feeling good about ourselves as the process. We feel good about ourselves when we perform to an expected standard, not when the standard is lowered so we can feel good about ourselves!

We forgot the basic premise of society: every tribe needs a chief and a tribal council, but what makes a tribe function are the good members of the tribe who listen to the leaders and then get the job done. The chief may decide where to make camp, but someone has to erect the tents, gather the food, and start the cooking fire. We have destroyed the worker mentality of our nation, the huge corps of workers who take the idea guy's ideas and turn them into successes! We led a generation of young people to believe that they are somehow above the worker bee functionality, that each of them somehow deserves to be farther up the ladder of success based on a diploma, rather than a demonstration of competency and success in finishing tasks and accomplishing goals. We taught a generation of young people to believe that they deserve more, they deserve better, they deserve it right now -- and they want to be paid at the highlest levels of compensation without having to do the time to earn that performance pay.

There is nothing wrong with being the best worker in a corporation, just as there is nothing wrong with being the best CEO: both ends of that spectrum have to be in place before the corporation can function successfully!

I cannot influence the young teachers coming behind me to do better, to work harder, to be more concerned about their educational impact on the students in the seats unless they, too, believe that our career is a calling, not a cop-out. Young teachers are stripping the curricula of anything they do not know personally: if it's too hard to teach, it must be too hard to learn, and, therefore, expendable. It's a lot more fun to sit and talk with students about personal experiences than it is to teach them about professional responsibilities, and everyone's job should be ... fun, right? Students should never have to pay for a course they fail, so the teacher has to find a way for everyone to pass ... right? Even when it means lowering the course expectations, as well as the grading scale, to accommodate the lowest common denominator ... right?

It is time for my career to fade into the sunset, for me to let go of a lifetime of doing my best and hoping it's good enough. I know I did as well as some, better than others, and not as well as I had planned, but that pretty much captures the essence of what life is all about!

It's Not Right

Last weekend, a 16-year-old local girl died on the other side of the freeway. Evidently, she was already in the roadway on a long stretch of poorly-lit asphalt that blended with her dark-colored party clothes. Law enforcement doesn't know whether she was thrown/jumped from a vehicle onto the roadway or was walking alongside the pavement and hit by a driver who left the scene. Sadly, there is little information and/or evidence to determine what happened and who is responsible.

And therein lies my concern: who is responsible.

There are not just parenting responsibilities, but individual responsibilities that take precedence over blaming the public for bad decision-making. The family has been featured on several media outlets, blaming "whoever did this" for ending this beautiful young girl's life so suddenly, and tragically, in the dark of the night on a lonely stretch of poorly-lit road. The older sister, who admitted that they "often" partied together, was not there that night with her sister: she probably could have protected her from whatever happened.

Pause, rewind, replay.

Yeah, that's correct: her older sister "often" partied with her 16-year-old sister, going so far as to help her to sneak out of the house so she could have fun with older guys. This tragedy was, perhaps, simply an inevitable consequence of family negligence and really bad role models in an older sister who should have protected her baby sister by keeping her at home! It was not the darkness of the pavement or the lack of streetlights that caused this tragedy: it was a family, an older sister, who favored partying over personal safety!

The car washes have been held, with the goal to raise $8000 for the girl's funeral. $8000 is about $7000 more than most people have to spend on a funeral, but many families spend money they don't have for a public display of ... regret, remorse? The family believes that this young girl is the victim of a violent crime, but she's a victim of family negligence: she deserved better from her parents, from her siblings, from her friends who all knew and loved her "free spirit." They all agree that she loved to party, but this time she died doing what she loved doing. I doubt that any amount of public outrage and lawsuits against the lonely stretch of asphalt will ever assuage the guilt that belongs within that family.

Playing Chicken

Daisy has been disappearing, not responding to repeated calls of her name, which is unusual for my gregarious Jack Russell terrier lap dog. At night, she'll suddenly leap off the bed, barking loudly enough to wake the dead, and barrel through the doggie door to confront an unknown danger. Sometimes Mia joins Daisy in yard duty, but other times, Daisy is just missing.
Yesterday, I caught her staring into the alleged easement at the back of the property line. It's a trash dump enhanced by two neighbors who toss anything they don't want in their backyard behind their fences, where I get to see it as a daily reminder of individuals' inconsideration. I used to climb back there and do a thorough cleaning twice a year, but since the neighbors walled off access, unless I'm willing to climb the chain link fence, the trash is going to continue to collect.

What has caught Daisy's attention is a brazen errant rooster who apparently thinks he's safe on the other side of the open fence. Daisy stays absolutely silent and still for hours, watching and waiting for the rooster's bravado to lead it close enough for the kill. Believe me, I've watched Daisy stalk birds in our backyard, so I know how silent, but deadly, she can be, epecially when she's being taunted. I've seen roosters fly in the backyard when I was a child, so I know that one day, that rooster will be unable to resist the temptation to preen in front of Daisy from a perch he'll think is safe. And that's when Daisy will triumph: she's a master at playing chicken with birds!

It'll be a nice snack, but a huge mess -- especially if Daisy brings her kill inside to share with me.

Saturday, May 19, 2012

Soussa and the Goatahs

The cruise to Greece and its many associated islands is now a memory stick filled with photos, a stack of daily cruise ship newsletters to help me remember where we were when, and suggestions for changes that could benefit others who contemplate the cruise experience.

Highlights? There were a few, including being “hexed” by an elderly woman dressed all in black who stopped me in the Athen’s Plaka to insist that I accept a gift bag from her that I did not want. I insisted; she persisted; I walked away with the bag after she refused to accept money for it. It was her penetrating eyes that locked onto mine and would not allow me to look away that did me in. The “hex kit” had a dirty bowl, some plastic utensils, a piece of candy, a baby romper, and something written in Greek with two numbers: 7 and 2. She kept telling me “two sisters” over and over, piercing me with her stare, and it was eerie. I kept the bag until Athen’s airport, at which time I tossed it, but I did keep the note, although I have no idea what it says.

Being the only two tourists at the “stepping out” ceremony at Athen’s main government building. The Sergeant of the Guard talked to me, posed for a fierce picture, and also invited me to take a picture with one of the costumed soldiers performing the stepping out, but I declined as I felt that was disrespectful of their military service.

Sitting on either the bow or the stern of the boat, mesmerized by the vastness of the sea, and touching my Scandinavian ancestors.

Learning how to shower in a corner of a very tiny bathroom featuring a hand-held shower extension and, at its deepest point, two feet of usable space. The trick is not to turn around.

Lowlights: being told to shut the window to turn on the air conditioning in our Athen’s hotel room; however, no matter how tightly we shut the window, the air conditioning did not come on. It took two days to realize that is an example of an austerity measure in a crashing economy. Ditto the lack of light bulbs in light fixtures.

Being corrected at the cruise ship dinner table for using the wrong eating utensils. The correction was done subtly, but it was done.

Coming back to the cabin and finding that the male staff had folded my dirty pajamas and placed them on the turned-down sheets. Creepy.

Being almost, but not quite, unable to climb into the excursion buses. How hard would it be to provide a step-stool? Ditto the “great race” mentality at the sights of interest: many members of the groups I joined had limited mobility, including me, but there was no accommodation for anyone. Keep up or stay behind and find your own way back to the boat at your own expense.

Learning that my first 5 excursion choices had been canceled and I had to stay on the ship because the level of walking difficulty was too stringent for my mobility ability. Yes, I talked to the excursion people, armed with visual aides, and pointed out that it appeared people with mobility issues were being discriminated against as all the appropriate excursions for us had been canceled. Magically, the 5th excursion was back on the possibilities list, and I joined a bus filled with 29 others magically signed up for the canceled tour. And it was the best tour of the entire trip!

People: Carol, whose husband died a year ago. The couple who had to leave as scheduled on their cruise to avoid breaking their contract and losing their investment. It did not matter that his mother, at age 96, did not live through the weekend. Lola, who won the title Queen of the Ship, but disavowed that she is a drama queen. Gino and Sandy; Ann and Marie. And the rudest French couple ever!

Places: Heraklion, Patmos and San Torini for beauty and friendliness; Istanbul and Izmir for the frustrations of the tour guides, the people, the traffic, and the bazaars.

Would I take another cruise? Perhaps, but only if I had the finances to book on a much better ship, have my own private cabin, and could take my time wandering about. The excursions cost too much and were designed to get customers into local businesses that bribed the tour guides/bus drivers to do so. My tour group literally spent less time seeing the Blue Mosque and the Haga Sofia in Izmir than we did at the local rug store! I refused to go into the business and sat across the street, enjoying coffee and the best rice pudding I’ve ever eaten.

Soussa and the Goat-ahs? Our very Greek tour guide in Heraklion had a charming accent that sounded almost Scandinavian, and she ended many words with the “ah” sound. When she talked about all the goats and sheep on the island, but not many cattle, I was with her, but she transitioned into a story about Soussa, the leader of the Greek goat-ahs, and lost me until she began naming the goat-ahs: Athena, Hercules, and so on. Got it and a good laugh.

Monday, May 7, 2012

Cruisin' for Conclusion

This is it, the big day before the Big Day. As is usually the case, I’ve packed a lot into the next couple of weeks while firmly believing that if it’s going to cause stress, then be stressed and move on. Thus, I’m taking the retirement cruise, returning home to finish my last semester of teaching, followed by attending my last “faculty” graduation ceremony, then celebrating my birthday. Sha-zaam!

I’m packed for the cruise, but, according to the experts, I should now take everything out of the suitcase and put back only that about which I am certain I have a need. Said expert also recommends that I plan to wear each garment 3 times, but I spill down the front of everything, so I’d rather not be swathed in an inadvertent giraffe print and I do prefer clean clothes to dirty. Another recommendation is to bring underwear that can be discarded, rather than returned home to the washing machine, which, on the surface, sounds like a good idea. BUT, panties and bras cost too much to toss and don't come in a convenient "6 fer" package.

I have ICE packets with every conceivable piece of information anyone could need to identify my body, return it home, retrieve my car from long-term parking, and cash in the burial policy. I have my passport, as well as the copies to carry with me wherever I wander because the cruise line holds the original in security while I’m under their aegis. I have some money, but I’m not going to take much with me, either in dollars or Euros, after paying double the advertised cost of the cruise with all the hidden and add-on fees. There is nothing I can purchase overseas that I cannot purchase at home, so I’ll take pictures if there’s something I really have to own. My one suitcase is limited to 50 pounds of whatever, and that’s going to be dirty clothes coming home to the washing machine, not souvenirs made in China and sold in the Mediterranean countries.

Yep, it concerns me that Greece is the focal point for political unrest and financial upheaval, renewed again this past week with vigor. One Greek citizen is quoted in the press: “Let’s destroy it all, then rebuild it. We have nothing to lose at this point that we’ve not already lost.” My hope is that they won't destroy Greece while I'm visiting and will either welcome American dollars or the cruise ship will have better amenities than our tour company president touted at the recent meet ‘n greet. At that time, he lamented how few people signed up for the cruise, rather than thanking those of us who did commit to the expense, and repeatedly reminded us that this is a “destination” cruise, NOT a luxury cruise. The on-board meals were presented as okay, the accommodations described as adequate, and the excursions as well worth the price, regardless of how outrageous the prices seem to me. I’m not going to pay $180 for a 5-hour sightseeing experience that begins with a poorly maintained, over-crowded tour bus traversing unpaved mountain pathways, nor a mere $130 for a 3-hour walking tour of anywhere. And especially I'm not going to pay for it in advance after learning that my local agency takes half the cost of each shore excursion!!

All the items on my to-do-before list have been completed, including Yucheng’s ChinAmerica afghan made to honor his birthday/college graduation May 25, during which he has also been chosen to be the student speaker. I gave the gift to him yesterday and he’s pleased. It’s one of a kind, designed to reflect his personal family background, and interpretative, not literal; thus, the unique “stars” on the Chinese flag and the reconfiguration of the American flag concept. And, if I knew how to get the photo off my phone and into my email account, I’d include it with this post!

It’s time to hi-ho. Will ketchup after my experience of a lifetime.