I've been thinking about age-appropriateness lately, ever since I finished reading the Harry Potter series. I just sent my soon-to-be-9-year-old niece an email asking her what she thought about it. She's always been remarkably self-policing when it comes to the idea of age-appropriate reading or viewing material, telling her parents, "I don't think I'm old enough for this." As I read Harry Potter, it seemed less and less like a story for children. I suppose it grew up with the kids who began reading it when it was new, but what about the kids who don't have the slowing influence of consecutive release dates and who finish the last book only slighter older than they were when they started the first? And do you read everything before your kids read it, or do you just trust the marketing?
With my reminiscences about "Super Mario Bros." and the glory days of my youth hanging out with a bad element, I've also been thinking about what my disclosure policy will be. I hope that I will be able to talk to Thumper intelligently about drug use and other behaviors that are a bad idea for a variety of reasons. I think our discourse will go beyond, "Drugs are bad, mmm-kay?" But if he asks me about my own history and whether or not I ever engaged in any of those bad behaviors, how honest will I be?
I tend to think I won't be particularly forthcoming, since my story does not work very well as a cautionary tale: "Don't do drugs, son, because I did drugs, and nothing very bad happened to me at all, except that I really wasted a lot of time and money." Of course, my story is more complicated than that, and there are greater nuances to what I learned by living on the very fringes of a drug-centric community for a number of years, but to what degree are those nuances relevant or comprehensible to a [fill-in-the-blank]-year-old? And by the way, what age DO you fill in the blank?
For instance, I could express how pathetic it is for a forty-year-old man to spend his time in the company of middle- and high-school students as they pool their resources in the daily quest for the next quarter-ounce, all the while being ridiculed behind his back by those same middle- and high-school students. I could try to describe the revulsion that comes from watching someone spend a half hour smoking dirt and lint and crumbs after bumping the magazine he'd spread his crack on and spilling it on onto a white carpet. I could speak of folks in their thirties, forties, fifties, still earning a low hourly wage in fast food restaurants and grocery stores because their lifestyle tends to lead to them quitting or getting fired on a regular basis. But those things won't really affect the attitude of an indestructible young man who would never choose to become any of those people but who doesn't really understand the effect of small, incremental choices made over the course of many years.
Anybody out there had the "Stay in School; Don't Do Drugs" talk with their kids? How did you approach it?
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Lessons that "Super Mario Bros." Can Teach Us All
A co-worker has eased my final days in the workforce by pointing me to a site where one can play a whole slew of old Nintendo games online. Though I spent my youth mostly playing the arcade versions and not the home console versions, the graphics on most of them are slightly altered from what I remember. But not my sweet, sweet Super Mario. It is exactly as I remember. If this makes your A and B fingers involuntarily begin twitching, you are probably the same age, and I suspect the same gender, as I.
What amazes me most about rediscovering this game is the degree of detail with which I still remember it. I'm finding hidden 1-Up's and coin boxes that I haven't thought about in 20 to 22 years. Which I suppose goes to show the level of obsession with which I played this game after school at the 7-11. So in fond remembrance, here are the Life Lessons One Can Draw from a Nintendo Classic:
1. Yes, you can memorize it, whatever it is. Repetition is the key to memory. If I can still remember how to skip ahead to level 4, you can memorize that poem. You may have to read it over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over, but eventually you'll wear a path into your neural pathways that will still be there long after you're no longer capable of remembering the name of the actor in the movie about the guy who did the thing.
2. When the fish are flying, sometimes it's best to just put your B button down, keep movin', and hope for the best.
3. Keep your eyes and your mind open, because you never know when you're going to stumble across that vine into the sky where all the gold coins are floating among the clouds, ripe for the pickin'.
4. Widespread availability of information is a good thing, but there's something to be said for good ol' human interaction. You can Google the locations of all the secrets, but there was a camaradarie in learning about them from the guy standing next to you watching you play, who learned about them by standing next to some other guy watching him play. And bumming his cigarettes.
5. Commercialism is running rampant. I ask you, where today can you find a form of paid entertainment that you can enjoy for hours at a time for a buck or less?
6. OK, I don't really have a 6. Let's face it; 4 and 5 were a little iffy on the whole life lesson concept already. But man, those were some fine times, hanging out at the 7-11 after school with the dope-smoking, cigarette-bumming layabouts and ne'er-do-wells, hoping one of them would call his mom for a ride so they could drop you off, but eventually having to hump it back home for dinner anyway. Ah, good times...
Ha! The co-worker who showed me where to find these old games just came into my office to reminisce about his good ol' days game, something called "Contra." That one wasn't one of mine, but I understood the faraway look in his eye as he talked about the summer of 1987. When I said, "Yeah, it's amazing we still remember all that after twenty years," he stepped back and looked at me in shock. "That wasn't twenty years..." Uh, yeah. It was. 1987 doesn't seem like twenty years gone. Man, we're old. But I still know where that green and yellow mushroom's hidden, so no worries.
What amazes me most about rediscovering this game is the degree of detail with which I still remember it. I'm finding hidden 1-Up's and coin boxes that I haven't thought about in 20 to 22 years. Which I suppose goes to show the level of obsession with which I played this game after school at the 7-11. So in fond remembrance, here are the Life Lessons One Can Draw from a Nintendo Classic:
1. Yes, you can memorize it, whatever it is. Repetition is the key to memory. If I can still remember how to skip ahead to level 4, you can memorize that poem. You may have to read it over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over, but eventually you'll wear a path into your neural pathways that will still be there long after you're no longer capable of remembering the name of the actor in the movie about the guy who did the thing.
2. When the fish are flying, sometimes it's best to just put your B button down, keep movin', and hope for the best.
3. Keep your eyes and your mind open, because you never know when you're going to stumble across that vine into the sky where all the gold coins are floating among the clouds, ripe for the pickin'.
4. Widespread availability of information is a good thing, but there's something to be said for good ol' human interaction. You can Google the locations of all the secrets, but there was a camaradarie in learning about them from the guy standing next to you watching you play, who learned about them by standing next to some other guy watching him play. And bumming his cigarettes.
5. Commercialism is running rampant. I ask you, where today can you find a form of paid entertainment that you can enjoy for hours at a time for a buck or less?
6. OK, I don't really have a 6. Let's face it; 4 and 5 were a little iffy on the whole life lesson concept already. But man, those were some fine times, hanging out at the 7-11 after school with the dope-smoking, cigarette-bumming layabouts and ne'er-do-wells, hoping one of them would call his mom for a ride so they could drop you off, but eventually having to hump it back home for dinner anyway. Ah, good times...
Ha! The co-worker who showed me where to find these old games just came into my office to reminisce about his good ol' days game, something called "Contra." That one wasn't one of mine, but I understood the faraway look in his eye as he talked about the summer of 1987. When I said, "Yeah, it's amazing we still remember all that after twenty years," he stepped back and looked at me in shock. "That wasn't twenty years..." Uh, yeah. It was. 1987 doesn't seem like twenty years gone. Man, we're old. But I still know where that green and yellow mushroom's hidden, so no worries.
Monday, October 1, 2007
Weekend Update, Without Norm MacDonald
Does that date me? The Norm MacDonald thing? I almost said that other guy that would've dated me even more, that smarmy, sarcastic, superior jerk with the vocabulary that's better than yours and whose name I can't think of. You know, he's played the bearded friend who gets killed in a couple of movies, like Sandra Bullock's The Net, and something else I can't think of. What's his name? Hang on a sec, I'm going to have to IMDB it. Oh, yeah. Dennis Miller. Maybe it was Murder at 1600 that was the other movie where he was the bearded friend that got killed. I don't remember. I watch way too many movies. Or I used to. Since the Coming of Thumper, my Netflix traffic is way down. Maybe I should downgrade to the "two at a time" membership level, instead of the three.
Wait, what was I talking about again?
Oh yeah, the weekend. We had a great weekend! Well, Texas got beat (again) by Kansas State, so that was bad. Poor Colt; if he never wanted to play again, I'd understand. He was bouncing off the grass like a quarter off a Marine's bed. I'm surprised he kept getting up again. But Oklahoma lost, too, so that was good! But not by as much, so that's bad. But by a heartbreaking, last-minute field goal, so that's good! Go, Buffs!
Wait, what was I talking about again?
Oh yeah, the weekend. And how well-rested I am. I'm well-rested, but I've still had three cups of coffee out of habit. Last week, I needed the three cups just to keep from collapsing in a heap on the floor under my desk, but when I'm well-rested and in a good mood, the coffee kind of makes me a little wired. Can you tell? Do I seem wired? I feel a little wired. I bet I'm coming across as a little wired here.
Wait, what was I talking about again?
Oh yeah, Thumper. He slept. At night. A lot. Saturday night, he ate at 9, 1:30, and 6:30. And he slept everywhere in between! Huzzah! And even better, he ate at 10 last night and 5 this morning, and he slept everywhere in between! And Mrs. Rodius got up for the 5 a.m. feeding, so I slept! Thanks, Mrs. Rodius!
She's been very kind and allowed me to sleep most of the night every night last week so I wouldn't wreck the car on the way to work. So this weekend, I tried to return the favor and give her as much peace and rest as I could. I cooked, I cleaned, I swept, I vacuumed, I did laundry. The best part was SWSIL (Social Worker Sister-in-Law). She's made it clear that she's very interested in being involved in Thumper's life, and she's made repeated offers to help us out when we need it. During the first month or so after Thumper was born, she brought us loads of food, too. Three different times! We've always loved SWSIL and Big Brother, and their whole family; SWSIL has always been one of my favorite people in the world ever since Big Brother stole her away from his best friend when they were still in high school. But now, we're definitely writing her into the will.
SWSIL came over Saturday afternoon and took care of Thumper for a couple of hours while Mrs. Rodius relaxed and I got some work done. She wasn't even scared off when he decided that was the perfect two hours to spend doing some of his best fussin'. He even hit her a few times with that lip-quivering, losing-his-voice wail, and she still wasn't scared off. He even spewed some of his chunkiest cottage cheese formula vomit on her, and she still wasn't scared off. She walked him, bounced him, sang to him, rocked him, strolled him, and showed him ceiling fans and light fixtures to stare at. She was determined not to leave until he was happy, so that he wouldn't have any negative associations with her. She was so determined, she was late picking up her own kids, but she succeeded in the end. She's a keeper, that SWSIL.
So Thumper and I visited her and her family at their house Sunday, to give Mrs. Rodius some more time off. Thumper rewarded her for her perseverance by only spewing a tiny bit of non-chunky breastmilk vomit on her, smiling generously at her attempts to entertain him, and taking a bottle from her, burping, and falling asleep. Apparently you have to survive the trial by fire before he'll give you the good stuff.
So God bless you, SWSIL, and thanks for wanting to see more of our kid. Sorry I teased you on Sunday by saying I'd brought him over so you could make him cry again, since he slept so well Saturday night, after all that crying. I'm sorry, too, for the joy I received from the fact that Thumper immediately stopped crying when I took him from you for a few minutes Saturday afternoon and started crying again when I gave him back. Well, no, really I'm not sorry for that. That was actually pretty awesome. Thanks for that, too! You're the best!
Wait, what was I talking about again?
Oh yeah, the weekend. We had a great weekend! Well, Texas got beat (again) by Kansas State, so that was bad. Poor Colt; if he never wanted to play again, I'd understand. He was bouncing off the grass like a quarter off a Marine's bed. I'm surprised he kept getting up again. But Oklahoma lost, too, so that was good! But not by as much, so that's bad. But by a heartbreaking, last-minute field goal, so that's good! Go, Buffs!
Wait, what was I talking about again?
Oh yeah, the weekend. And how well-rested I am. I'm well-rested, but I've still had three cups of coffee out of habit. Last week, I needed the three cups just to keep from collapsing in a heap on the floor under my desk, but when I'm well-rested and in a good mood, the coffee kind of makes me a little wired. Can you tell? Do I seem wired? I feel a little wired. I bet I'm coming across as a little wired here.
Wait, what was I talking about again?
Oh yeah, Thumper. He slept. At night. A lot. Saturday night, he ate at 9, 1:30, and 6:30. And he slept everywhere in between! Huzzah! And even better, he ate at 10 last night and 5 this morning, and he slept everywhere in between! And Mrs. Rodius got up for the 5 a.m. feeding, so I slept! Thanks, Mrs. Rodius!
She's been very kind and allowed me to sleep most of the night every night last week so I wouldn't wreck the car on the way to work. So this weekend, I tried to return the favor and give her as much peace and rest as I could. I cooked, I cleaned, I swept, I vacuumed, I did laundry. The best part was SWSIL (Social Worker Sister-in-Law). She's made it clear that she's very interested in being involved in Thumper's life, and she's made repeated offers to help us out when we need it. During the first month or so after Thumper was born, she brought us loads of food, too. Three different times! We've always loved SWSIL and Big Brother, and their whole family; SWSIL has always been one of my favorite people in the world ever since Big Brother stole her away from his best friend when they were still in high school. But now, we're definitely writing her into the will.
SWSIL came over Saturday afternoon and took care of Thumper for a couple of hours while Mrs. Rodius relaxed and I got some work done. She wasn't even scared off when he decided that was the perfect two hours to spend doing some of his best fussin'. He even hit her a few times with that lip-quivering, losing-his-voice wail, and she still wasn't scared off. He even spewed some of his chunkiest cottage cheese formula vomit on her, and she still wasn't scared off. She walked him, bounced him, sang to him, rocked him, strolled him, and showed him ceiling fans and light fixtures to stare at. She was determined not to leave until he was happy, so that he wouldn't have any negative associations with her. She was so determined, she was late picking up her own kids, but she succeeded in the end. She's a keeper, that SWSIL.
So Thumper and I visited her and her family at their house Sunday, to give Mrs. Rodius some more time off. Thumper rewarded her for her perseverance by only spewing a tiny bit of non-chunky breastmilk vomit on her, smiling generously at her attempts to entertain him, and taking a bottle from her, burping, and falling asleep. Apparently you have to survive the trial by fire before he'll give you the good stuff.
So God bless you, SWSIL, and thanks for wanting to see more of our kid. Sorry I teased you on Sunday by saying I'd brought him over so you could make him cry again, since he slept so well Saturday night, after all that crying. I'm sorry, too, for the joy I received from the fact that Thumper immediately stopped crying when I took him from you for a few minutes Saturday afternoon and started crying again when I gave him back. Well, no, really I'm not sorry for that. That was actually pretty awesome. Thanks for that, too! You're the best!
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Bring on the Laurel Wreaths
Wow. If I could claim responsibility for getting Franklin to post regularly, the internet shall rejoice and shower me with honors and wealth beyond my wildest dreams!
The gauntlet has been thrown, huh? Well, then, I triple dog dare ya!
The gauntlet has been thrown, huh? Well, then, I triple dog dare ya!
Friday, September 28, 2007
NaBloPoMo
I love Fussy, and Fussy says do it! So I'm a gonna do it. Don'tcha wanna do it too? I'm a verbose guy, so I don't think I'll have too much trouble coming up with a post per day, every day, for a month. Saturdays and Sundays count, too. Of course, the month in question is November, so I will no longer be employed full-time, and we all know I post more when I'm, uh, working. Ahem.
So come, join. All the cool kids are doing it. Won't you be my friend? My profile's over here. I would've been I, Rodius, but it didn't like commas or spaces in the name. Join me, and together we shall rule the galaxy.
So come, join. All the cool kids are doing it. Won't you be my friend? My profile's over here. I would've been I, Rodius, but it didn't like commas or spaces in the name. Join me, and together we shall rule the galaxy.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Looking from the Wrong Direction
I'll spare the details, because database talk, like the jargon of all sorts of other specialties and cults, is boring to the uninitiated. But I had my wee little mind boggled a bit today. A few days ago, I was switched from a Mac to a PC at work. I only realized today that I had lost the useful tool of Applescript when a particular function in one of my databases no longer worked. There was much gnashing of teeth and rending of garments as I lamented our short-sighted, conformist abandonment of the superior machine for the one that plays nicest with everybody else's. Now, I moaned, I'll have to spend hours trying to figure out how to get Windows to do what Mac did so easily. This would clearly cut into my blogging time. I was forlorn.
But after five minutes thought, and about half an hour of actual work, I got the database to accomplish the same thing, and the new solution works on both Mac and Windows. It's simple, it's elegant, it's cross-platform, and it takes advantage of a previously unnoticed side effect of an unrelated function. So, thirty-five minutes. It took me a day and a half to figure out the right syntax for the applescript I was previously using. Funny how I spent so much time staring at the problem from the direction from which I first approached it and never bothered to walk around the other side and see what it looked like from there until I was forced to by the cruel machinations of petty fate.
But after five minutes thought, and about half an hour of actual work, I got the database to accomplish the same thing, and the new solution works on both Mac and Windows. It's simple, it's elegant, it's cross-platform, and it takes advantage of a previously unnoticed side effect of an unrelated function. So, thirty-five minutes. It took me a day and a half to figure out the right syntax for the applescript I was previously using. Funny how I spent so much time staring at the problem from the direction from which I first approached it and never bothered to walk around the other side and see what it looked like from there until I was forced to by the cruel machinations of petty fate.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Things I Think About As I Float Away to My Happy Place While Thumper Expresses His Displeasure with the Level of Customer Service I Provide
I've been wanting to add a feed to this site for awhile, but I didn't know how, or invest much effort into learning. Turns out this Blogger thingy makes it pretty easy. I think it's somewhere way down there at the bottom now. I've also wanted to learn how to link so it opens in a new window, but was too lazy and/or busy to investigate. I think Dooce's error this morning pointed the way. Did it work? It did! Well, there's that done, then.
I've also been thinking I should get my own non-blogspot domain name someday. I bought a domain name for an audio transcription/database consulting website. I need to figure out the income tax and sales tax and insurance implications of that whole idea, too. But if I do get my own domain name, I should, you know, do some actual web design and make this look like my own website and not a template. More stuff I don't know how to do. I used to, in the early to mid '90's, keep up with all the new and improved techie computer webbie stuff. But good God, it all changes so fast, it's hardly worth the time investment. Almost as soon as you really get to know it, it's no longer true. Who has the time? These kids today and their technology!
Now this stuff is somewhere on my to-do list just below committing to a workout program, though I did buy a $50 used Eddie Bauer jogging stroller yesterday. God, I love Craigslist! I don't really understand it, though. How does it survive? How does it make money? Is it some kind soul's or souls' gift to humanity? I should read the Wikipedia entry.
Also somewhere on that to-do list is cutting out some turf and laying out bricks for pads for my rain barrels, which have been sitting in my garage for about five months now. Oh yeah, and putting up actual rain gutters, too. It's just like me to start with the end and never finish the start.
And I need to finish painting the deck Pops and I screened in, uh, eleven months ago. And clean up the garden. And wage war on the fire ants. I've been trying not to lay out poisons all over the place for barefoot children and pets to stumble across, but sprinkling Cream O' Wheat on their mounds just makes them move, so I've spent the summer chasing the little buggers around my yard with a box of breakfast food, and I'm starting to imagine neighbors snickering behind curtains.
And when am I going to have time to set up a dog blind on the roof of my shed from which I can stalk and murder the little bastard that keeps making a special trip to my back yard to do all his runniest poopin'? I sprinkled cayenne pepper all over his favorite spots, and that worked for a couple of weeks, but within 24 hours of my nephew coming over and mowing it all up, the little bastard was back. And it looked like he'd been holding it in all this time, just waiting for his moment. I have visions of slingshots and web cams, and spring-loaded traps of varying degrees of lethality. Bamboo lined pit traps. Noose traps. Cayenne pepper bombs. Why am I cleaning up dog crap? I don't own a dog!
Anyway, these are the things I think about.
I've also been thinking I should get my own non-blogspot domain name someday. I bought a domain name for an audio transcription/database consulting website. I need to figure out the income tax and sales tax and insurance implications of that whole idea, too. But if I do get my own domain name, I should, you know, do some actual web design and make this look like my own website and not a template. More stuff I don't know how to do. I used to, in the early to mid '90's, keep up with all the new and improved techie computer webbie stuff. But good God, it all changes so fast, it's hardly worth the time investment. Almost as soon as you really get to know it, it's no longer true. Who has the time? These kids today and their technology!
Now this stuff is somewhere on my to-do list just below committing to a workout program, though I did buy a $50 used Eddie Bauer jogging stroller yesterday. God, I love Craigslist! I don't really understand it, though. How does it survive? How does it make money? Is it some kind soul's or souls' gift to humanity? I should read the Wikipedia entry.
Also somewhere on that to-do list is cutting out some turf and laying out bricks for pads for my rain barrels, which have been sitting in my garage for about five months now. Oh yeah, and putting up actual rain gutters, too. It's just like me to start with the end and never finish the start.
And I need to finish painting the deck Pops and I screened in, uh, eleven months ago. And clean up the garden. And wage war on the fire ants. I've been trying not to lay out poisons all over the place for barefoot children and pets to stumble across, but sprinkling Cream O' Wheat on their mounds just makes them move, so I've spent the summer chasing the little buggers around my yard with a box of breakfast food, and I'm starting to imagine neighbors snickering behind curtains.
And when am I going to have time to set up a dog blind on the roof of my shed from which I can stalk and murder the little bastard that keeps making a special trip to my back yard to do all his runniest poopin'? I sprinkled cayenne pepper all over his favorite spots, and that worked for a couple of weeks, but within 24 hours of my nephew coming over and mowing it all up, the little bastard was back. And it looked like he'd been holding it in all this time, just waiting for his moment. I have visions of slingshots and web cams, and spring-loaded traps of varying degrees of lethality. Bamboo lined pit traps. Noose traps. Cayenne pepper bombs. Why am I cleaning up dog crap? I don't own a dog!
Anyway, these are the things I think about.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
