It happened again today. At lunch, I walked to my favorite grassy area. It was a pretty nice day and there were quite a few folks out enjoying the sun. Once again, as I approached the park, I noticed that my favorite bench was open. This bench is almost always available. I suppose I should consider it my good fortune that I usually get to sit in the place I prefer. I am happy about it, but there's a part of me that wonders why no one else has taken it. In my mind, this particular bench is far and away the best location. Today, I would esitmate that the benches were about 75% occupied. At that rate it just seems logical that someone would have chosen this spot over the other available ones. There is a part of me that wants to question some of the other bench-sitters - to find out why they didn't choose this bench. Of course, this part of me is dwarfed by the larger, introverted part of my psyche that cautions, "Do not talk to or make eye contact with anyone."
So, I guess I will never know why no one else likes this bench as much as I do.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Amnesia
Yesterday, I needed to do some very basic calculus for solving a problem at work. I know it was very basic calculus because when I googled it, the sites that came up were mostly introductory calculus related. I should have know it was basic stuff because I've taken introductory calculus and advanced calculus and a few classes after that. I should not have even needed to be googling at all - I did quite well in those classes and this problem should have been child's play.
Instead, I found myself reading material that felt completely foreign and new. Like some amnesia patient who'd just been introduced to his mother, I was amazed at how little I remembered of something I supposedly once knew so well. I found it extremely frustrating - learning this stuff was going to take some work and according to my college transcripts I already knew it. I kept at it, however, hoping that at some point the right synapses would reawaken the part of my brain that hopefully still held this knowledge. No reawakening so far.
This isn't the first time I've had this experience. A couple of years ago, we remodeled our house. As part of the remodel, we needed to tear down our old garage. This meant we first had to clean out the garage. It was a small garage but that didn't stop us from accumulating a bunch of junk in it. I remember sifting through boxes, finding a few items to keep and throwing out the rest. In the far back corner of the garage there was this old battered box that I'd had been toting around with me for over twenty years. When I graduated from college, I threw the last of my notebooks and returned exams into this box, along with anything else still in my dorm room. The box traveled along with me through the various places I lived, never being opened - just stuffed in one storage closet after another. It was finally time to go through this box.
The notebooks and exams inside proved that I once did understand higher mathematics. I remember paging through one exam in particular - my professor had made a flattering comment about a proof I had provided. The comment was the only thing on the page that I even remotely understood. Whatever I had done twenty-some years earlier was a mystery to me now. There were also some graduation cards in the box. I recognized most of the names on these, but there were a couple that I couldn't place at all. I threw away just about everything in the box. It wasn't difficult to throw it all away since it really no longer had any meaning to me.
So, here I sit, relearning something I once knew so well. I'm still holding out hope that I'll eventually remember some of this or that it will be easier to learn because of my earlier efforts. A couple of weeks ago, I was listening to a music station that plays songs from the 80s. The song "867-5309/Jenny" by Tommy Tutone came on and I realized I could easily recall most if not all of the lyrics. This song came out in 1982, about the time I was learning some of the calculus I needed now. I don't know why my brain decided to keep one and toss the other. Right now, I'd gladly trade the lyrics for a little background on derivatives.
Instead, I found myself reading material that felt completely foreign and new. Like some amnesia patient who'd just been introduced to his mother, I was amazed at how little I remembered of something I supposedly once knew so well. I found it extremely frustrating - learning this stuff was going to take some work and according to my college transcripts I already knew it. I kept at it, however, hoping that at some point the right synapses would reawaken the part of my brain that hopefully still held this knowledge. No reawakening so far.
This isn't the first time I've had this experience. A couple of years ago, we remodeled our house. As part of the remodel, we needed to tear down our old garage. This meant we first had to clean out the garage. It was a small garage but that didn't stop us from accumulating a bunch of junk in it. I remember sifting through boxes, finding a few items to keep and throwing out the rest. In the far back corner of the garage there was this old battered box that I'd had been toting around with me for over twenty years. When I graduated from college, I threw the last of my notebooks and returned exams into this box, along with anything else still in my dorm room. The box traveled along with me through the various places I lived, never being opened - just stuffed in one storage closet after another. It was finally time to go through this box.
The notebooks and exams inside proved that I once did understand higher mathematics. I remember paging through one exam in particular - my professor had made a flattering comment about a proof I had provided. The comment was the only thing on the page that I even remotely understood. Whatever I had done twenty-some years earlier was a mystery to me now. There were also some graduation cards in the box. I recognized most of the names on these, but there were a couple that I couldn't place at all. I threw away just about everything in the box. It wasn't difficult to throw it all away since it really no longer had any meaning to me.
So, here I sit, relearning something I once knew so well. I'm still holding out hope that I'll eventually remember some of this or that it will be easier to learn because of my earlier efforts. A couple of weeks ago, I was listening to a music station that plays songs from the 80s. The song "867-5309/Jenny" by Tommy Tutone came on and I realized I could easily recall most if not all of the lyrics. This song came out in 1982, about the time I was learning some of the calculus I needed now. I don't know why my brain decided to keep one and toss the other. Right now, I'd gladly trade the lyrics for a little background on derivatives.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Demonstration
I found myself in the middle of a good old-fashioned demonstration at lunch today. I was out for a walk - after a morning indoors, it felt really good to get out. I was walking along Washington Ave. with no particular destination except that I needed to get a cup of coffee. I was intending to go to Dunn Brothers but alas, they were closed. This didn't trouble me greatly since I don't think you can walk more than half a block without passing a coffee shop in Dinkytown. My kind of place.
As I continued on from the closed Dunn Brothers, I became aware of the sound of someone using a megaphone. Up ahead across the street, I noticed a group with banners and such in front of a flower shop. The biggest banner I could see read "Recruiters Lie, Students Die". This, along with the chants from the group, led me to believe that this was an anti-military/anti-war group. As I continued walking, I realized there was another group, on my side of the street. They were standing in front of the Army/Navy recruiting offices. They too had a megaphone, although they weren't really using it much. This group was made up lots of people holding flags and wearing clothing with eagles and stars and such. The group was mostly young men and women, some with baby strollers. I assume there were babies in the strollers but I did not peek to confirm.
The anti-war group was clearly more organized. They had fancy banners and nifty response cheers between the megaphone and the crowd. I'm sure the flag group was thrown together at the last minute to counter the others. Their banners looked a tad less thought-out and they had no real cheers or shouts. Still, the crowds were pretty close to the same size. I was just making my way through the flag group when the anti-war bunch decided to escalate things. They began crossing the street en masse, signs out in front like shields - megaphone behind cheering them on. Ironically, the pro-military group was somewhat caught off guard by this frontal attack. The guy with the megaphone tried to turn them back with fine shouts like, "You guys shouldn't come over here!", "Stay on your side!", "You shouldn't be in the street!" and the always effective, "You're going to block traffic!".
As I crossed the street and ducked into a Caribou the two sides were nose to nose, shouting at each other. The anti-war group was still chanting their chants. The pro-military group still didn't have an organized shout so they each appeared to be doing their own thing. When I came out of the Caribou, the pro-military group had finally settled on the simple cheer of "U. S. A.!". This was working for them until the anti-war bunch co-opted it and started shouting "U. S. Out!". You could see the frustration on the faces of some of the flag group.
As I returned to work, I thought about how completely effective the pro-military group had been. Even though they had appeared to be inept or at least inarticulate, they had mounted enough of a stand to draw the attention of the anti-war group. The anti-war group lost its focus. They should have been trying to convince and educate the public at large to their concerns. Instead, they focused all their energy on the one group whose minds they were least likely to change.
As I continued on from the closed Dunn Brothers, I became aware of the sound of someone using a megaphone. Up ahead across the street, I noticed a group with banners and such in front of a flower shop. The biggest banner I could see read "Recruiters Lie, Students Die". This, along with the chants from the group, led me to believe that this was an anti-military/anti-war group. As I continued walking, I realized there was another group, on my side of the street. They were standing in front of the Army/Navy recruiting offices. They too had a megaphone, although they weren't really using it much. This group was made up lots of people holding flags and wearing clothing with eagles and stars and such. The group was mostly young men and women, some with baby strollers. I assume there were babies in the strollers but I did not peek to confirm.
The anti-war group was clearly more organized. They had fancy banners and nifty response cheers between the megaphone and the crowd. I'm sure the flag group was thrown together at the last minute to counter the others. Their banners looked a tad less thought-out and they had no real cheers or shouts. Still, the crowds were pretty close to the same size. I was just making my way through the flag group when the anti-war bunch decided to escalate things. They began crossing the street en masse, signs out in front like shields - megaphone behind cheering them on. Ironically, the pro-military group was somewhat caught off guard by this frontal attack. The guy with the megaphone tried to turn them back with fine shouts like, "You guys shouldn't come over here!", "Stay on your side!", "You shouldn't be in the street!" and the always effective, "You're going to block traffic!".
As I crossed the street and ducked into a Caribou the two sides were nose to nose, shouting at each other. The anti-war group was still chanting their chants. The pro-military group still didn't have an organized shout so they each appeared to be doing their own thing. When I came out of the Caribou, the pro-military group had finally settled on the simple cheer of "U. S. A.!". This was working for them until the anti-war bunch co-opted it and started shouting "U. S. Out!". You could see the frustration on the faces of some of the flag group.
As I returned to work, I thought about how completely effective the pro-military group had been. Even though they had appeared to be inept or at least inarticulate, they had mounted enough of a stand to draw the attention of the anti-war group. The anti-war group lost its focus. They should have been trying to convince and educate the public at large to their concerns. Instead, they focused all their energy on the one group whose minds they were least likely to change.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Assumptions
The weather is finally nice enough that I can resume my lunch-time walks. A few days ago, I headed out to one of my favorite spots for enjoying a bite outdoors - it's just a scattering of a few tables and benches next to some open green space near the U of M Alumni building. I have a couple of benches in particular that I prefer over the other seating options. All the furniture is bolted to concrete and many of the benches are positioned such that you are forced to face a nearby table. I'd rather not sit at one of them and have people feel like I'm watching them. And I'm sure not going to sit at a table and have the bench people staring at me. There are a couple of benches that, although near the tables, actually face out toward the grassy field. I prefer these.
I didn't bring a lunch to work that day so I stopped by Chipotle to get a burrito to go. I know lots of people who love Chipotle and I keep thinking I should enjoy their food more. I like it okay, but I can think of three or four other places whose burritos I prefer. Anyway, I chose Chipotle solely because it was conveniently located along my route. Enough about the burrito, already.
As I approached the tables and benches, I noticed that both of my favorite benches were available. There were tons of people out, but most of them were looking to commune a bit more closely with nature - they were sitting or lying on the grass in the sun. I'm not so much a sit on the grass kind of guy. It's not that I don't like sitting on the grass - well, actually, that's part of it but not the main reason. My problem with just going out and sitting somewhere in a grassy field is that I don't know how to decide where to sit. I need some order, some direction. Throw me out in an open field and I'll be forever wondering if here is better than there or vice-versa. I'll watch every person that comes and sits and I'll wonder why they chose the spot they did and if I should have chosen it. I applaud all the free spirits that have conquered the field. You would survive longer in the wild than I would - even if we were both able to find food, you'd be finished eating while I was still wandering around looking for a nice chair to sit on while I ate.
One of my favorite benches is situated near a table. The table is kind of beside and behind the bench. As I crossed the grassy field and approached the benches, I noticed that there was a group gathered at the table. They appeared to be a bunch of young adults, most wearing hooded sweatshirts and baggy jeans. It sounded like they were having an argument - even from a distance I could occasionally hear raised voices. Many of them seemed agitated and there was a lot of gesturing at various buildings and passing cars. Instinctively, I raised my internal alert status to red. I had a few options. I hadn't yet reached the benches. I could just continue walking and find some other place to eat. I could choose my other favorite bench that wasn't so near the table. Or, I could choose the bench next to the table.
I don't know if I didn't want give in to my prejudged assumptions about the group or that I didn't want to let their behavior dictate where I ate lunch. Whatever the reason, I chose the bench next to the table. I sat down, took out my burrito and tried to focus on the sunny green grass and the people going to and fro. As I sat there, it was hard not to hear the conversation next to me. It wasn't so much an argument as a passionate debate - about renewable energy. The gesturing was mostly related to pointing out hybrid cars or wondering if geothermal could be used to heat a particular building. I finished my burrito and started the walk back to work, happy with my choice of lunch spots.
I didn't bring a lunch to work that day so I stopped by Chipotle to get a burrito to go. I know lots of people who love Chipotle and I keep thinking I should enjoy their food more. I like it okay, but I can think of three or four other places whose burritos I prefer. Anyway, I chose Chipotle solely because it was conveniently located along my route. Enough about the burrito, already.
As I approached the tables and benches, I noticed that both of my favorite benches were available. There were tons of people out, but most of them were looking to commune a bit more closely with nature - they were sitting or lying on the grass in the sun. I'm not so much a sit on the grass kind of guy. It's not that I don't like sitting on the grass - well, actually, that's part of it but not the main reason. My problem with just going out and sitting somewhere in a grassy field is that I don't know how to decide where to sit. I need some order, some direction. Throw me out in an open field and I'll be forever wondering if here is better than there or vice-versa. I'll watch every person that comes and sits and I'll wonder why they chose the spot they did and if I should have chosen it. I applaud all the free spirits that have conquered the field. You would survive longer in the wild than I would - even if we were both able to find food, you'd be finished eating while I was still wandering around looking for a nice chair to sit on while I ate.
One of my favorite benches is situated near a table. The table is kind of beside and behind the bench. As I crossed the grassy field and approached the benches, I noticed that there was a group gathered at the table. They appeared to be a bunch of young adults, most wearing hooded sweatshirts and baggy jeans. It sounded like they were having an argument - even from a distance I could occasionally hear raised voices. Many of them seemed agitated and there was a lot of gesturing at various buildings and passing cars. Instinctively, I raised my internal alert status to red. I had a few options. I hadn't yet reached the benches. I could just continue walking and find some other place to eat. I could choose my other favorite bench that wasn't so near the table. Or, I could choose the bench next to the table.
I don't know if I didn't want give in to my prejudged assumptions about the group or that I didn't want to let their behavior dictate where I ate lunch. Whatever the reason, I chose the bench next to the table. I sat down, took out my burrito and tried to focus on the sunny green grass and the people going to and fro. As I sat there, it was hard not to hear the conversation next to me. It wasn't so much an argument as a passionate debate - about renewable energy. The gesturing was mostly related to pointing out hybrid cars or wondering if geothermal could be used to heat a particular building. I finished my burrito and started the walk back to work, happy with my choice of lunch spots.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Easter
Our church has a statue of Jesus above the altar. His arms are slightly apart with his hands turned such that we see his palms. He's also looking down, just a little bit. All of this works quite nicely for a statue mounted up high. It feels like the statue is looking down at us with his arms welcoming - you can almost imagine him saying, "Here, take my hand." For the Easter service, someone had placed a large white lily at the base of the statue. As I tried to focus on the sermon, I couldn't help but notice Jesus, looking at the lily. In this context, his arms conveyed more of a sense of joy, as if he were thinking, "Hey! A lily! I love lilies! Is this for me?"
I doubt that was the intent of whoever stuck the lily there, but I though it was sort of cool.
Reference Links:
I think the statue is a copy of "Bertel Thorvaldsen's Christus"
For some reason, a Swedish church decided to copy this statue in "LEGO"
I doubt that was the intent of whoever stuck the lily there, but I though it was sort of cool.
Reference Links:
I think the statue is a copy of "Bertel Thorvaldsen's Christus"
For some reason, a Swedish church decided to copy this statue in "LEGO"
Friday, April 3, 2009
High Ropes
I spent the first part of this week with B's 5th grade class at the Audubon Center of the North Woods. There were 52 kids, divided into four groups. Over the course of three days they rotated through four different classes. Each class lasted three hours and involved a lot of outdoor time. Each night there was a program that the entire group attended. All in all, I'd say it was a fairly positive experience for the kids in the group I was with.
I think my favorite class was the first one we did, high ropes. In this class, you climb a pole up to a platform 20 feet in the air. Then you clip a harness to an overhead cable and make your way across some sort of bridge or cable to another platform on a pole about 20 feet away. The course consists of a number of these poles, each with a different type of crossing to get to it.
At the second platform, you can choose to either continue on through the long course or take a relatively simple path to the finish point. As an adult helper, I was stationed at this platform. My main job was to make sure the kids safely transferred their clips from one overhead cable to the next as they entered and left a platform. My other job was to try to convince as many as possible to take the long route. I loved this part.
I loved the fact that each kid, no matter how shy, was forced to talk to me in order to get their clips moved. Many of them didn't know me well and probably would never have spoken to me otherwise. Now, here they were, stuck on a platform 20 feet in the air with some annoying grownup who kept talking to them. Hey, the course is about challenging yourself and getting outside your comfort zone. For some kids, it was the height for others I think it might have been me.
I'm happy to say that most of the kids took the long route. It wasn't too hard to get them to continue, they just needed a little push usually. I told them that I found the section they'd just finished to be the toughest one and the rest of the course would probably be easy for them (of course, at that point I hadn't actually done the other sections yet). If they were still hesitant, I employed a more powerful force: peer pressure - I'd point out friends who were currently on the long course or who had just finished. That usually did the trick.
Of course, there were a few kids who were really scared to be up there. For them, just climbing to the top of the starting platform was a major victory. They were easy to spot and when they got to my platform I didn't push them too hard to go on. They had already challenged themselves more than some of the kids who did the long course.
I'm glad we did that class first and I'm glad I chose to be on that platform. It gave me an opportunity to meet and chat with each student in the group. I think this made the subsequent classes and our time at the center easier because we knew each other just a little bit better.
I think my favorite class was the first one we did, high ropes. In this class, you climb a pole up to a platform 20 feet in the air. Then you clip a harness to an overhead cable and make your way across some sort of bridge or cable to another platform on a pole about 20 feet away. The course consists of a number of these poles, each with a different type of crossing to get to it.
At the second platform, you can choose to either continue on through the long course or take a relatively simple path to the finish point. As an adult helper, I was stationed at this platform. My main job was to make sure the kids safely transferred their clips from one overhead cable to the next as they entered and left a platform. My other job was to try to convince as many as possible to take the long route. I loved this part.
I loved the fact that each kid, no matter how shy, was forced to talk to me in order to get their clips moved. Many of them didn't know me well and probably would never have spoken to me otherwise. Now, here they were, stuck on a platform 20 feet in the air with some annoying grownup who kept talking to them. Hey, the course is about challenging yourself and getting outside your comfort zone. For some kids, it was the height for others I think it might have been me.
I'm happy to say that most of the kids took the long route. It wasn't too hard to get them to continue, they just needed a little push usually. I told them that I found the section they'd just finished to be the toughest one and the rest of the course would probably be easy for them (of course, at that point I hadn't actually done the other sections yet). If they were still hesitant, I employed a more powerful force: peer pressure - I'd point out friends who were currently on the long course or who had just finished. That usually did the trick.
Of course, there were a few kids who were really scared to be up there. For them, just climbing to the top of the starting platform was a major victory. They were easy to spot and when they got to my platform I didn't push them too hard to go on. They had already challenged themselves more than some of the kids who did the long course.
I'm glad we did that class first and I'm glad I chose to be on that platform. It gave me an opportunity to meet and chat with each student in the group. I think this made the subsequent classes and our time at the center easier because we knew each other just a little bit better.
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