Continuing Their Excellent Adventure: The Things Come To Rochester, New York

Posted on February 6, 2012 | 56 comments

Way back in September, Leanne Shirtliffe (aka: Ironic Mom) asked me when I might want to have the Things make a stop in Rochester on their Excellent Adventure, and I knew I wanted them during the winter. Duh!

There is so much to do here when there is snow. I figured we would go skiing, make snow critters, go sledding and ice-skating, have them help us make snow tunnels, and bring them inside to a roaring fire. You get the idea. When Leanne contacted me in December, I had to decline her offer because there was no snow in Rochester. She asked me again a few weeks later, and while we were still without snow – I figured by the time the Things made it to me, we’d certainly have some white stuff. But as anyone from this part of the United States can tell you, the weather this year has been positively wonky. Here is a pictorial about our time with the Things.

I swear Rochester is usually much more fun than is perhaps depicted here. Maybe.

• • •

In Rochester, this season,

winter’s been strangely mild.

No sledding, no skiing.

for adult or for child.

When one day,

I found I had nothing to do

I opened my door

And found Things 1 and 2.

They were positively chilled

Having spent the night outside

So I brought them in our home

To entertain them, we tried.

We wanted to show the Things

A most wonderful day.

We took off to Great Places

We took off and away.

Lake Ontario. Toronto, Canada is on the other side.

We drove to Lake Ontario.

We drove with great care.

And though I said, “Pull over carefully!”

Hubby pulled over There.

The Things thought this was funny. Hubby? Not so much.

When he parked There in that spot

Hubby rolled over a bolt.

And when his tire popped,

We felt the horrible jolt.

The Things thought tire shopping was fun. Hubby? No so much.

The Things knew stuff like this happens

As things sometimes do

So they didn’t worry,

No, they didn’t stew.

They played in the tires

That had been stacked, just so.

They played until the people

At the tire shop said, “Go.”

Want some bracelets? Check out http://GoGuiltyPleasures.com Julie will send some to you!

The next morning I found the Things

They were quite a sight.

They’d gotten into some trouble.

(I’d suspected they might.)

They’d found some bracelets from GoGuiltyPleasures

and seemed a little low.

But I untangled them and told them

we’d more places to go.

The Things liked learning about Brownie cameras. Hubby? Not so much.

We took the Things to George Eastman House

Home of Kodak fame

I explained that if it hadn’t been for George

Picture taking wouldn’t be the same.

Jim's Diner on Winton. Tell them Renée sent you.

We all began to shiver

So we drove to our favorite diner.

The Things showed good manners and exclaimed:

“This coffee couldn’t be finer!”

We took the Things to Lock 33

On the Canal called Erie.

We had no mule whose name was Sal

And the Things were mighty weary.

What

Still, we took them to Wegmans Market

Best grocery store under the sky,

And once inside the Things perked up

There were so many things to try.

Jimmy from Produce loved The Things

They thought the store was swell.

They hid in the red peppers

And in a pile of lobster shells.

We took the Things to temple.

To show them how services were led.

They were very respectful

And wore one yarmulke on top of their heads.

One night the Things seemed homesick.

I saw a tear near Thing 1’s eye.

I pulled out a postcard of the Rockies

and brought out the Canada Dry.

The next day, miraculously

the snow – it had arrived!

And Thing 1 and Thing 2

seemed amazingly revived.

Happy Things!

They watched Tech Support at Rochester Fencing Club.

And even took a class.

And while they loved their toothpick sabers

They decided to take a pass.

We took the Things skiing

They liked to go vroom

They liked when I went very fast

So I zigged and zagged and zoomed!

The Things at Bristol Mountain

When their stay was over

We said splendiferous goodbyes.

We gave the Things good scrub downs

And gave each other high-fives.

As I shoved placed them in an envelope

addressed for their next temporary stay

We agreed we would miss those Things

and sent them safely on their way!

Fare thee well, Things. We hardly knew ye.

**NOTE: The snow melted the minute I sent the Things overseas to their next destination. Yup, they are headed to Switzerland to begin the European leg of their Tour! {Watch the news for “global weirding” in Europe.}

To read more about where the Things have been so far, click HERE.

So what would you have liked to have done with me and the Things? In Rochester, New York? In February? With no snow? IYKWIM.

Tweet this Tweet @rasjacobson

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Haters Gonna Hate: Twenty Months Later

Posted on February 4, 2012 | 59 comments

The other day I got this piece of fan mail:

Click here if you want to see the print better. You can hear the tone better, too.

It was written in response to a post that I wrote almost 2 years ago.

I don’t get a lot of hate mail, but it’s kind of exciting.

It means that I have said something powerful and controversial.

Or that I’m really famous.

You can check out that old post here.

Funny thing is, I feel the same way I did when I originally posted.

The only difference is that my son is now 12 and 1/2.

Oh, and he doesn’t like to be called Monkey anymore.

Now the question is should I respond to this person? And if so, what should I say?

How do you handle haters?

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Opting In: A Guest Post by Wayne Borean

Posted on February 3, 2012 | 11 comments

I met Wayne Borean after I decided to try my hand at Twitter. I tweeted for help, and Wayne was there with the assist.

Wayne has eleventeen-seventy-hundred blogs, but his writing blog is called Through the Looking Glass. I try to stay off it because if I leave a comment, he yells at me and tells me that I should not be reading and commenting on blogs, but rather I should be working on my own book. He is right of course.

Check out Wayne’s post “Doing The Password Polka.“ Twitterstalk Wayne at @WayneBorean. I’m so glad that the Twitterverse exists or I might have missed him altogether.

• • •

Click on the teacher's nose for the main schedule!

Opting In

Mr. Field was one of my Grade 13 math teachers. In 1975 there were three Grade 13 math classes, all of which were first and second year University math classes by American standards.

Mr. Field was a card. He was probably one of the funniest teachers in the school. He was also one of the hardest working, and he made us work hard through a combination of charm, humor, and energy. No one ever skipped one of his classes. No one ever wanted too. All of the Grade 13 classes were full year courses.

Mr. Field gave us an exam at the end of January, and we were all getting ready to start a new module in the first week of February, when Mr. Field told one of us near the back of the class to close the door.

He sat on the corner of the desk staring at us for a minute, with a funny smile on his face, and then announced, “I want to tell you that you’ve completed the entire years course of instruction, ten months worth, in five months. All of you have passed. Congratulations.”

There were a series of thuds as jaws hit the floor all over the room. He then continued. “In September I looked at the class, and it seemed to me that you were far more capable than the ministry thought, so I decided on a test. I’ve been feeding you the course material at twice the pace that the ministry thinks right since the first day we meet. Yes, you really have finished the entire course. You now have a choice. You can show up for class every day, we’ll discuss a mathematical problem, and then have an open discussion. We won’t be taking attendance for the rest of the year. Or you can take the class as a spare period. It’s up to you.”

The entire class decided to show up for class every day, and we did for the rest of the year. A couple of times when people needed to take time to study for tests they asked permission to “skip” the class. Mr. Field was quite amused. Each time this happened he pointed out that he wasn’t taking attendance, but everyone kept doing it anyway.

Great teacher, Mr. Field. Great teacher.

If a teacher told you that you did not have to come to class anymore — that you had passed the course — would you still attend? And if you could audit one class “just because” and not have to worry about grades, which class would you take?

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Saturday Night at the Club

Posted on February 2, 2012 | 30 comments

Working on my fiction! This week’s prompt spoke to me so I decided to give it a whirl. We were asked to let a character be inspired by music. I had to show in 400 words or less how my character responds to a piece of music.

• • •

The music rolls upward in smoky circles toward lights covered in red-cellophane.  On the floor below, a man and a woman sit side by side at a tiny round table. Dressed in black, they look sharp together.  The two have had several bottles of wine, and the woman has draped her bare legs over his thighs. He pushes against her and something rises inside me, a longing perhaps to be touched like that. And always, the music, it pumps.

While the drummer fans his cymbals, I watch the woman teasing her man, and I feel like I am watching some kind of primitive human mating ritual. From out of nowhere, she is shouting. Her voice rises over the music, and her fingers open and close as she clutches the air around her.

Suddenly, he pushes her legs off his lap; he is on his feet, taking long strides towards the back of the club. I look to see her reaction but I can’t see her face because her hair blocks her eyes. I see now that she is drunk, that she is crying, choking on her sadness. Help her, I look around wildly. Someone help her; she is too beautiful to cry.

The waitress comes and whispers something in the woman’s ear. For a moment I can’t tell whose ear is whose; they are a collage of interchangeable body parts, two women, two strangers come together in the darkness. The woman owes for the bottles of wine, and she takes out her wallet to pay. A few papers fall on the floor, but she doesn’t notice or — if she does — she doesn’t care.

The waitress leaves, and the woman dabs at her eyes with a cocktail napkin. She checks her watch, but never turns around: never turns to see where he might be. Or where he might not be. After what seems like an eternity of jazz, he returns to his chair as if he has only been gone a moment, not some small eternity. Staring into the dark hole of the horn player’s trumpet, he taps his foot to the beat.

The music quiets. The man says something I can’t decipher, words that cause the woman to rise. Tall and curved, she reaches for her purse. When she looks for him, he is three-paces ahead of her. Teetering on too high heels, cigarette smoke swirls around her and, for a moment, she recognizes the toxic funk she is in, a low vibration or a blue note from the bass player’s strings.

How do you feel about people who are drunk in public?

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Posted in When Life Doesn't Fit in a File Folder

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Who’s a cutey?

Posted on February 1, 2012 | 15 comments

There were 171 entries to this bracelet contest via comments, Facebook and Twitter.

The winner of the cutey bracelet giveaway was determined by a Random Number Generator used in conjunction with my Excel Spreadsheet

The winning number was:

And the person attached to that number is Lisha from The Lucky Mom.

I’ll be in touch with you soon.

*For reals.*

Because – and this is where life gets weird – I am going to New Orleans in about a week, and Lisha lives in a nearby suburb. We have been talking about getting together while I’m down there, and I think (I hope) I am actually going to meet her in real life! How crazy is that?

I wish I had the bracelet so that I could deliver it personally to her door.

Like they do with Publishers Clearinghouse Giveaway Sweepstakes.

She would have been all “Who the hell are you?” excited, and it would have made for a great “How We Met” post.

Hopefully, we’ll get our schedules to sync up so we can collaborate on something.

So congratulations again to Lisha!

Check out Lisha’s blog and follow her very popular Facebook Page.

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The Curse of the Migraine

Posted on January 31, 2012 | 49 comments

I started getting migraines when I was about 14 years old. The first time, my father came in my room to find me writhing on the floor. It is my understanding that I howled. My father squeezed my head, vise-like, between his magical hands.

He got me to relax, so I could sleep off the pain.

But my migraines continued, relentlessly, for decades — until they stopped.

Animation of an MRI brain scan, starting at th...

Image via Wikipediauntil they stopped.

After I had Tech Support, my migraines disappeared completely.

I joked that having a baby was a miracle migraine cure. I could eat bleu cheese again. I could eat chocolate and drink red wine — not that I’ve ever been a big red wine fan, but I could have chocolate – as well as lots of other foods that had been considered verboten for so long.

And then it happened.

The headaches came back.

Once a month like uninvited guests, frequently appearing at 5 am, they came with clunky shoes and suitcases and set up shop with their giant hammers inside my head. Sometimes they wouldn’t leave for two or three days.

Once, Tech Support came home from school to find me on the floor, crying and banging my head against the wood floor.

I’m pretty sure I ruined him for life scared him.

Because he called my husband.

When my husband came home, I begged him to kill me.

I asked him to buy a gun and kill me.

To please buy a rifle and put it in my mouth and pull the trigger.

I said all of this in front of Tech Support.

(Which was probably not good.)

But I couldn’t help myself.

(I never claimed to be strong.)

As my husband stabbed my leg with IMITREX, he told me to make an appointment with my doctor.

I got an MRI.

Everything looked good.

I was incredulous.

How was that possible?

How could my brain hurt that much and be perfectly fine?

So I became really good friends with my neurologist who put me on Topomax, which has been a wonder drug for me.

My migraines stopped almost immediately. I take the lowest possible dose of the medication –15 mg in a “sprinkle capsule” — a dose not infrequently prescribed for children.

The hardest thing about being on Topomax is that is kills my appetite.

And it is really hard to go grocery shopping when nothing looks appealing.

So our refrigerator is nearly always empty.

It is difficult to cook meals – something I used to love to do. I remember fussing over chicken enchiladas with tomatoes and cilantro, a little yellow rice. Spooning spinach salad with onions and pomegranate seeds, taking care about plating them on my rainbow-color Fiesta Ware plates.

Tech Support took Health class last year where he learned how important it is to eat three healthy meals a day.

Now he worries about my lack of calories like a Jewish grandmother.

“Taste this,” he implores pushing a forkful of something at my face. “You have to eat, Mom!”

Sometimes I try a bite.

But sometimes I don’t eat anything.

Not a single morsel. All day.

It’s very hard to eat when you feel full.

I know a lot of people who suffer from migraines, and everyone has a slightly different variation on a theme. Some people get a visual aura. If they can catch the headache during this phase, they can sometimes abort it. I think of them as the lucky ones. Some people get ocular headaches. No real pain, just weird visual symptoms. Some people see blue dots. Some people see swirls. Some people vomit. Some people don’t. Some people have migraines and are laid out for days.

That is something beyond my comprehension; I cannot imagine living with that kind of pain.

But I know people do.

So I’ll keep taking my Topomax, keep hoping that I won’t be laid up with an axe-to-the-skull-splitting-migraine while simultaneously praying I’m not cultivating a kidney stone the size of my fist that will one day need to be surgically removed.

Because that can be one of the unfortunate side effects of Topomax.

You can get kidney stones.

And it is my understanding that kidney stones suck way worse than migraines.

Have you ever had a migraine? What are your triggers? And what do you do for relief?

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Quick! Tell Me What To Do!

Posted on January 30, 2012 | 61 comments

I’m working furiously on my fiction manuscript.

I need an unusual name for a babysitter.

Got any suggestions?

Give me a name, and I’ll tell you one interesting fact about this person.

61 Comments

Posted in Writing Life

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January 2012 Departmental Mash-Up of Awesomeness

Posted on January 29, 2012 | 40 comments

Still no snow in Rochester, New York; nevertheless, it’s still pretty cool.

Wanna know what else is cool? The bloggers listed in my January 2012 Mash-Up. They are new. They are now. They are what’s goin’ on.

From the English Department

Julie Gardner gets the Best Blog of the Month Award because she discusses getting laid. It’s not what you think. It’s about grammar, you pervs.

KD Sullivan remembers her beloved teacher in “Dear Mr. Reichhert”

Deb Bryan recalls a teacher who believed in her before she knew to believe in herself in “Lessons from a Tiger Teacher”

Transitioning Mom‘s beautiful piece “Out of the Ashes, Beauty” applies mythology to every day life.

Trish Loye Elliott reminds aspiring writers to “Take Your Writing Seriously.”

From the Philosophy Department

Dances With Chaos wonders: “Do You Need a Degree to be a Good Teacher?”

Kristen Lamb asks “Can Critique Groups Cause More Harm Than Good?”

From the Math Department

The always hot hilarious Tyler Tarver answers the burning question: “When Will I ever Use Math in Real Life?” and takes on “President Obama’s Changes in Education.”

From the Home Economics Department

Frume Sarah gives us her Grandma Selma’s Crummy Chicken recipe. Made it. Loved it.

From the History Department

Gene Lempp weighs in with a Legend of The Stone Giant.

K.B.Owen writes about 19th Century Personal Enhancement Products. Can you say bust cream?

From the Art Department

The Cool Hunter introduced me to water-colorist Cate Parr – Fashion Illustrator. Oooh, pretty.

Love her watercolors!

From the Politial Science Department

In an interview at EduClaytion with ClayMorgan, Piper Bayard explains “How Latinas Can End Jihad.”

From the Science Department

Zach Sparer makes me consider the dismal state of our NASA program in “Rocket Pact.”

From the Technology Department

EllieAnn Soderstrom wrote about Trans Media and iBooks and so did Clay Morgan with his article The Five Year Engagement. It looks like books are really about to change.

From the Physical Education Department

Nina Badzin wonders How to Focus on Fitness Without Making our Kids Crazy.

El Farris discusses “Sandusky’s Effect on Coaches and Teachers.”

From the Music Department

Indie pop princess Ingrid Michaelson announced her upcoming tour. I’d love to see her in Toronto! Here is what Ingrid looks like these days:

Ingrid Michaelson

I heart Ingrid. What do you think? Can I pass for her?

Maybe I look more like Ingrid Michaelson's mother?

FYI: She totally does NOT have lenses in her glasses. So not fair.

From the Health Department

David N. Walker tells us to not to be afraid to ask for the neck protector the next time we find ourselves getting x-rays at the dentist in “Silent Enemy.”

From the Driver’s Education Department

Abby Has Issues swears: “I Can Drive 55.”

From the Teacher’s Lounge

Leanne Shirtliffe explains “Why Teachers Need to Laugh.” It is required reading. So.

From the Awesome-Sauce Department

Tamara Out Loud’s “Pickle Kiss” is innocent. And yet so very naughty. Go and see. You know you want to. IYKWIM.

What awesome stuff has happened to you recently?

Tweet This Twit @rasjacobson

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The Way Mrs. Wheeler Rolled: Guest Post by Ricky Anderson

Posted on January 27, 2012 | 30 comments

Does it get cuter than that folks?

For a chance to enter to win a bracelet from cutey, click HERE for details!

I’m pretty sure I met Ricky Anderson right about the time I met Tyler Tarver and Knox McCoy. They came strung together like half a six-pack. Here’s what I’ve learned about Ricky since August 2011: Snickers really satisfy him, he works on computers, and he gets precious little sleep because of that little person over there. —>

I also learned that his first grade teacher’s name was Mrs. Wheeler. Which is weird because my first grade teacher’s name was Mrs. Wheeler, so I kind of wonder if he is that Ricky kid who came to my school briefly and then disappeared. Probably not.

Please, please, please read his article “I am a Diva”.

And follow him on Twitter at @Arthur2Sheds. Don’t ask.

He’s a little defensive about that whole lack of integration thing.

• • •

Click here for main schedule!

The Way Mrs. Wheeler Rolled

My first grade teacher’s name was Mrs. Wheeler. I found this especially fitting, seeing as how the old lady must have been ten years older than Methuselah. I was convinced if we were to give Mrs. Wheeler a sudden start, we’d have to ‘wheel her’ out on a gurney.

She was a delightful old relic, though. She was exactly twelve feet tall. She wore old lady’s perfume; the kind that made your nose wrinkle up into a prune.

I loved her.

She was the reason I went to school. The numerous bullies who traded my lunch money for a bloody nose or a black eye hardly bothered me. All my attention was focused on getting to Mrs. Wheeler’s class. It was one of my two main goals in life.

The other, of course, was to please Mrs. Wheeler. Any act that would make her happy was an accomplishment to me, no matter how minuscule. If her pencil tip were dull, I’d gladly whittle her a new one. When she needed the chalkboard erasers beat, I hastily volunteered. My hair may have resembled Ben Matlock’s when I was finished, but I enjoyed every minute of it. It was the first time I can remember finding self-sacrifice enjoyable.

I did these things not only because I loved her, but also because I owed it to her. You see, some bullies were worse than others. There was a whole gang of the really mean ones that got their kicks from my posterior. I accurately nicknamed them ‘The Meanies’. They practiced judo on me every day at recess. I knew the routine well. They would surround me, and I would begin to feel the fear creep over me. The name calling and shoving would commence, and the tears and pocket change would disperse.

One day as this was taking place, yet again, something out of the ordinary happened. I was picking myself out of the dirt when a lone shadow blocked the sun. The proceedings halted like molasses in August. The onlookers scattered as Mrs. Wheeler towered over the malicious would-be thieves. I knew all would be fine when she began scolding them with those scalding words of retribution that still ring in my ears to this day, “Come now, let’s play nicely, girls.”

Do you remember any of your teachers saying or doing something that they probably couldn’t get away with now?

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Who Should Escape from Hell with El?

Posted on January 25, 2012 | 13 comments

Last week, my friend El Farris of Running From Hell with El ran a little contest in which she asked people to create images of super heroes, willing to fight for a cause.

Today, I was supposed to declare the winner of El’s Strong Enough to Escape From Hell Create Your Own Super Hero Contest.

Except I need your help.

*

Go look at El’s page, then come back here and vote.

If you’d like to, tell me why you think this person is the most deserving of the $20 gift card to Barnes and Noble that I will be providing!

* Yes, I am aware I am missing a question mark in the poll. It is actually there, but apparently I am using up too much space. Darn you, PollDaddy and your narrow margins!

• • •

THE CONTEST IS OVER! ** I think it is obvious that Random Thoughts and Lotsa Coffee has done the job with Super Ma’am! Congratulations! Please send me your contact information so I can mail you your prize!

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