Last night I had a dream I've had hundreds of times before---one that I think most everyone has. I dreamed I could fly. It always starts the same way in the dreams. I am standing by my bed, then I stand on one foot, and then I stand on no feet---I'm floating! Then I go down some stairs, skipping at first one step, and then two, and then gradually being able to skip from the top of the stairs to the bottom, flying.
Flying is never easy in these dreams. It's like swimming in air. You have to keep moving to fly. But if you work at it, you can get to places---trees, rooftops.
Flying is a secret in the dreams. I have to make sure no-one sees me. I'm not sure why that is, but that's another universal of the flying dreams.
I always wake from these dreams feeling, for just a second, like I can fly, like I figured it out while I was dreaming.
I wonder why people dream about flying so much? There are other abilities we don't have that I don't think get as much dream play. I don't dream I am invisible, or a giant, or tiny, or able to see through walls, or read minds, or time travel. Just the flying. Maybe it's because we see birds all day flying around. We know it's possible to do, but we can't do it. When I'm in a flighty minded way, I think it's because once humans could fly, or we still could if we got it just right.
I'm a heavy dreamer. I dream every night, and I'm glad of it. It's great to have a world that fills my mind at night in which I can do the things that this regular world doesn't allow.
Monday, September 10, 2012
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Summer programs and crazy costs
My older son is taking a college course this summer, the summer before his senior year. He picked the course to apply to himself, and did all the applications himself. I was only vaguely aware of the whole process until it came to look at costs and financial aid. The program, which is one class, twice a week, for six weeks, NOT for college credit, costs $2100. That's right, over two thousand dollars. That is insane. I mean, it's not even for credit, it doesn't include housing or anything else. Just 40 hours or so of instruction, not instruction all by himself, but in a class. Maybe I've been living in a fool's paradise until this point, but I really had no idea what things like that cost. We were very lucky---we used two sources of financial aid and were able to get all but $100 of the cost paid for by them. But still...why?
My son was surprised at the orientation by the lack of diversity among the students. He's always gone to a school where he was in the minority as a white kid, and that makes sense, as we live in the city and that is the make-up of our city. But at that program, almost none of the kids are from the city, either. They are from rich suburbs. Maybe there is aid for the program, as we found, but just the price tag probably scares off a lot of kids from even applying.
It struck me that what it all is is mostly like just a way to pay to get a good-looking summer program on a college application. It's part of the game we've never played, the "plan from the time your child is born to get them into the right college" plan. I can't get into that plan. It just seems like a fool's game, especially when you hear about all the out of work college graduates. Very few people from my rural high school class went to college. Even fewer went to "good" colleges. Yet following them all on Facebook, they have careers, families, lives where they are very comfortable and happy. I didn't grow up in an environment where going to a good college, or even college at all, was a given goal. Many of my friends did have parents who went to college, like mine, many didn't. I never saw that sharp divide that I think people think exists, between the people who "got in" and the people who didn't. My husband went to an Ivy League school, on a full scholarship. It's been no ticket to riches, let me tell you. I went to a state school, and I don't think that has stood in the way of anything I wanted to do.
I could go on and on. I know education for its own sake is a good thing. I am glad my sons want to learn, and I am happy they are getting the chance. But the whole game has gotten out of hand. I think someday it's going to collapse, like the housing market or the financial markets did, when someone realizes that college and getting into college has become a very expensive game.
My son was surprised at the orientation by the lack of diversity among the students. He's always gone to a school where he was in the minority as a white kid, and that makes sense, as we live in the city and that is the make-up of our city. But at that program, almost none of the kids are from the city, either. They are from rich suburbs. Maybe there is aid for the program, as we found, but just the price tag probably scares off a lot of kids from even applying.
It struck me that what it all is is mostly like just a way to pay to get a good-looking summer program on a college application. It's part of the game we've never played, the "plan from the time your child is born to get them into the right college" plan. I can't get into that plan. It just seems like a fool's game, especially when you hear about all the out of work college graduates. Very few people from my rural high school class went to college. Even fewer went to "good" colleges. Yet following them all on Facebook, they have careers, families, lives where they are very comfortable and happy. I didn't grow up in an environment where going to a good college, or even college at all, was a given goal. Many of my friends did have parents who went to college, like mine, many didn't. I never saw that sharp divide that I think people think exists, between the people who "got in" and the people who didn't. My husband went to an Ivy League school, on a full scholarship. It's been no ticket to riches, let me tell you. I went to a state school, and I don't think that has stood in the way of anything I wanted to do.
I could go on and on. I know education for its own sake is a good thing. I am glad my sons want to learn, and I am happy they are getting the chance. But the whole game has gotten out of hand. I think someday it's going to collapse, like the housing market or the financial markets did, when someone realizes that college and getting into college has become a very expensive game.
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Leave It To Beaver
Tony and I have been watching all the Leave It To Beaver episodes on Netflix, as a long term project. The project got interrupted when Barbara Billingsley died, as for a while, they took the show off Netflix, but it recently came back. We are in the third season.
I am always impressed with the very high quality of the show. It's extremely obvious how much care was taken with it. Unlike so many shows, the characters are consistent, there are not continuity errors all the time, the sets are realistic and the plots are interesting.
The most interesting part of the show to me is how it is basically an instruction in parenting. I read that in some ways, this was purposeful. The government actually encouraged the show to demonstrate good parenting techniques. I think a lot of people just remember little parts of the action, like how the kids are very polite and sometimes call their father "sir" and how the mother wears pearls. There's so much more there.
The typical episode goes like this---Beaver or Wally get into some kind of trouble. They try to hide this, or solve it on their own, but their parents find out, and help them sort it out, while emphasizing that the boys should have come to them first. Sometimes, Ward, the father, loses his cool and "hollers" at the boys, but he's always sorry when he does this. The parents don't always agree about how to deal with the problems, but they work out a united front out of the earshot of the kids.
The kids are realistic in a low key way. We laughed with recognition at an episode where Wally was having a teenager day and said everyone was against him, and at one where Beaver simply couldn't resist getting in the last word in an argument with his brother. The friends of the kids often illustrate other personality types, usually shown to be the result of bad parenting. We all remember Eddie Haskell, but there are lots of other friends. Lumpy Rutherford is the result of a alternatingly overly indulgent and then overly strict father, Larry Mondello shows what happens with an absent father and a nervous mother and the almost unbearable Judy Hensler is an obvious example of a spoiled brat.
Despite all these positive points, the show is obvious set in a utopia in most ways. The small town the family lives in is peaceful and calm. The Cleaver household is always ultra clean, meals are on time, money is never a serious issue and we sense that Beaver and Wally will go on to prosperous lives. That's part of the appeal, to me. I need a vacation sometimes from my real life, in my real house that is messy, with my real life worries about money, college, autism, all that. Sometimes I'm in the mood to pay a visit to a world unlike my own. I can sit back and pretend I am June, living a life that I'll never really live. I'll be quite sad when we finally watch the last episode. For now, I've got a new little slice of pretend life waiting for me any time I want.
I am always impressed with the very high quality of the show. It's extremely obvious how much care was taken with it. Unlike so many shows, the characters are consistent, there are not continuity errors all the time, the sets are realistic and the plots are interesting.
The most interesting part of the show to me is how it is basically an instruction in parenting. I read that in some ways, this was purposeful. The government actually encouraged the show to demonstrate good parenting techniques. I think a lot of people just remember little parts of the action, like how the kids are very polite and sometimes call their father "sir" and how the mother wears pearls. There's so much more there.
The typical episode goes like this---Beaver or Wally get into some kind of trouble. They try to hide this, or solve it on their own, but their parents find out, and help them sort it out, while emphasizing that the boys should have come to them first. Sometimes, Ward, the father, loses his cool and "hollers" at the boys, but he's always sorry when he does this. The parents don't always agree about how to deal with the problems, but they work out a united front out of the earshot of the kids.
The kids are realistic in a low key way. We laughed with recognition at an episode where Wally was having a teenager day and said everyone was against him, and at one where Beaver simply couldn't resist getting in the last word in an argument with his brother. The friends of the kids often illustrate other personality types, usually shown to be the result of bad parenting. We all remember Eddie Haskell, but there are lots of other friends. Lumpy Rutherford is the result of a alternatingly overly indulgent and then overly strict father, Larry Mondello shows what happens with an absent father and a nervous mother and the almost unbearable Judy Hensler is an obvious example of a spoiled brat.
Despite all these positive points, the show is obvious set in a utopia in most ways. The small town the family lives in is peaceful and calm. The Cleaver household is always ultra clean, meals are on time, money is never a serious issue and we sense that Beaver and Wally will go on to prosperous lives. That's part of the appeal, to me. I need a vacation sometimes from my real life, in my real house that is messy, with my real life worries about money, college, autism, all that. Sometimes I'm in the mood to pay a visit to a world unlike my own. I can sit back and pretend I am June, living a life that I'll never really live. I'll be quite sad when we finally watch the last episode. For now, I've got a new little slice of pretend life waiting for me any time I want.
Friday, June 1, 2012
Library Memories
I've never been good at picturing places described to me visually. If someone starts telling me about a house they saw "And then off the foyer there was a breakfast nook, and the kitchen had an open floor plan...", they lose me well before they get very far. However, I can remember exactly how the branch of the Elyria, OH, public library we used looked, and where the children's section was, and I last set foot there when I was 6. Libraries hold a place in my heart that I don't think any other physical location does.
A few libraries stand out the most. One is the Rockland, Maine library. It was (and is) a Carnegie Library, and it was beautiful. It felt like a palace. When I spent a day in Rockland, which we sometimes did in the summer as my father worked, I spent most of it at the library. It always felt cool in there, even on hot days, and it always felt quiet and somehow sacred. I can remember how the wooden floor felt on my feet, how the reading room had beautiful windows, how the ceilings were high all over, how the stone steps looked. It was a wonderful place.
Another library I loved deeply was the Folger Library at the University of Maine, in Orono. I remember vividly my first time going there, on my very first day of my freshman year. To say I was floored is an understatement. It was HUGE. I think I was told it's the 3rd largest library in New England, and I believe it. It seemed like a miracle---within a 5 minute walk of my dorm, there were more books than I ever dreamt of having access to. The library was open most nights until midnight, and I hope I don't sound incredibly nerdy saying I made a lot of late night runs to it (amid other freshman fun). When I started, there were old style elevators that went to little half-floors between the other floors, and those felt like secret hideways. I rarely saw anyone else on those floors, and I could wander them to my heart's content alone. There were huge rooms just full of bound journals, and I would pick interesting ones at random---a 1920s restaurant trade magazine, a 1950s home ec teacher's journal---it was fascinating. There was a room called The Oak Room that had a collection of recent books and interesting fiction, and also all the local newspapers for Maine. I would go there to read my home town paper, on the huge wooden tables. I could go on and on---wow, did I love that place.
After I graduated, I lived in the Orono area for a while, and started using the Bangor library. It was an oddity at that time as it had closed stacks. If you wanted a book, you had to find it in the card catalog, write down the Dewey Decimal number and take it to the desk, and a worker would go get it. I miss the browsing, but I liked the excitement in a way---you never knew quite what the book was actually going to look like until they got it for you. It felt like a surprise.
I've lived in Boston for 20 years now, and strangely, I haven't really fallen in love with any of the library branches here. The Hyde Park library is very nice---it is also a Carnegie, I believe, and it was expanded very tastefully a few years back---but although I've used it plenty, it doesn't quite feel like other libraries have for me. Maybe that's because now I mostly do my browsing on-line. I love the Boston library website, where I can search for any book I want, and with a click, ask for it to be waiting for me at any branch. It's like free book shopping. But no matter how easy and enjoyable that is, it isn't the same. Libraries have a distinctive smell---a dusty book smell. I miss that. They have an sound---a hollow kind of sound when you walk, I think from the noises being absorbed by all the books. They have a feel---a cool, welcoming feel. They have an aura that no online site, no Nook, no Barnes and Noble, no other building will ever quite have. I'm glad I have my memories of some special book palaces we call libraries.
A few libraries stand out the most. One is the Rockland, Maine library. It was (and is) a Carnegie Library, and it was beautiful. It felt like a palace. When I spent a day in Rockland, which we sometimes did in the summer as my father worked, I spent most of it at the library. It always felt cool in there, even on hot days, and it always felt quiet and somehow sacred. I can remember how the wooden floor felt on my feet, how the reading room had beautiful windows, how the ceilings were high all over, how the stone steps looked. It was a wonderful place.
Another library I loved deeply was the Folger Library at the University of Maine, in Orono. I remember vividly my first time going there, on my very first day of my freshman year. To say I was floored is an understatement. It was HUGE. I think I was told it's the 3rd largest library in New England, and I believe it. It seemed like a miracle---within a 5 minute walk of my dorm, there were more books than I ever dreamt of having access to. The library was open most nights until midnight, and I hope I don't sound incredibly nerdy saying I made a lot of late night runs to it (amid other freshman fun). When I started, there were old style elevators that went to little half-floors between the other floors, and those felt like secret hideways. I rarely saw anyone else on those floors, and I could wander them to my heart's content alone. There were huge rooms just full of bound journals, and I would pick interesting ones at random---a 1920s restaurant trade magazine, a 1950s home ec teacher's journal---it was fascinating. There was a room called The Oak Room that had a collection of recent books and interesting fiction, and also all the local newspapers for Maine. I would go there to read my home town paper, on the huge wooden tables. I could go on and on---wow, did I love that place.
After I graduated, I lived in the Orono area for a while, and started using the Bangor library. It was an oddity at that time as it had closed stacks. If you wanted a book, you had to find it in the card catalog, write down the Dewey Decimal number and take it to the desk, and a worker would go get it. I miss the browsing, but I liked the excitement in a way---you never knew quite what the book was actually going to look like until they got it for you. It felt like a surprise.
I've lived in Boston for 20 years now, and strangely, I haven't really fallen in love with any of the library branches here. The Hyde Park library is very nice---it is also a Carnegie, I believe, and it was expanded very tastefully a few years back---but although I've used it plenty, it doesn't quite feel like other libraries have for me. Maybe that's because now I mostly do my browsing on-line. I love the Boston library website, where I can search for any book I want, and with a click, ask for it to be waiting for me at any branch. It's like free book shopping. But no matter how easy and enjoyable that is, it isn't the same. Libraries have a distinctive smell---a dusty book smell. I miss that. They have an sound---a hollow kind of sound when you walk, I think from the noises being absorbed by all the books. They have a feel---a cool, welcoming feel. They have an aura that no online site, no Nook, no Barnes and Noble, no other building will ever quite have. I'm glad I have my memories of some special book palaces we call libraries.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Modern Family
Tony and I have been watching back episodes of Modern Family, and I have been trying to figure out why it is so funny. There's no denying it's hilarious---the kids came out to see what was up as I was laughing so hard it sounded like I was dying the last time we watched. But when I really think about it, it's not a terrible original or creative show. What's the setup? A man with a much younger wife who is beautiful and has an accent, a dopey, clueless husband with a pretty but non-brain-surgeon daughter, a bright but nerdy daughter and a son as clueless as he is, a gay couple that seem pretty stereotypical to me, and who also serve another stereotype in their hyperactive parenting of their adopted child. And the plots? They cover all the classic sit-com happenings. If identity can be mistaken, it is, if people can overhear what they shouldn't overhear, they do, if meanings can be misunderstood, they are, if a car is near a cliff, it will roll off. Everything happens as you expect it to happen.
And that's probably the genius. We are tired of cutting edge or realistic humor. Modern Family is the anti-Seinfeld, the anti-Roseanne. It's a flashback to just plain funny, without a cutting edge or a intricate plot. The show is well casted, the actors are likeable, and you can just sit back and enjoy yourself, without having to think a huge amount. There's a lot to be said for that.
And that's probably the genius. We are tired of cutting edge or realistic humor. Modern Family is the anti-Seinfeld, the anti-Roseanne. It's a flashback to just plain funny, without a cutting edge or a intricate plot. The show is well casted, the actors are likeable, and you can just sit back and enjoy yourself, without having to think a huge amount. There's a lot to be said for that.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Amazon Book Reviewing --- My story!
Back in the dark ages of the internet, I noticed that it was possible to write reviews of books on Amazon. So I started doing so---compulsively. I wrote many, many reviews, just for the pure fun of it, and because it was kind of cool to see if people liked them or not.
Then I got a surprise---a letter from Amazon telling me they were going to start ranking reviewers, and that I was in their top 100 reviewer list---something like 55. They sent me a hat saying as much, and put a note by my name. I was pretty excited, just for the pure coolness of it all.
Then something strange started to happen. All of a sudden, all my reviews had tons and tons of "unhelpful" votes. Reviews that had never gotten any votes before were overnight getting 10 unhelpful votes. It was obvious someone in that top 100 list wanted to move up. It just seemed so stupid to me, but it also bothered me. After thinking about it a while, I decided it just wasn't worth it, and I wrote to Amazon telling them I didn't want to be ranked any more. They agreed, and I was no longer ranked.
After about 2 years, during which I still wrote a lot of reviews, I thought it might be fun to see what my ranking was, so I wrote and asked them to re-rank me. When they did, I was something like 800, which still was fun. Life intervened, and I stopped having time to write as much, and recently I feel out of the top 1000, but I still love doing reviews here and there. About 5 years ago, Amazon started their Vine program, and invited me to join. Now every month, I get to pick about 4 books (and once in a while other products) to review, and the books are sent to me for free---usually in advance reader editions. That's a blast---seeing books before anyone else does, and just getting free stuff!
If anyone would like to read any of my 558 reviews (that's over about 12 years, remember!), here's a link...
My Reviews
One of the coolest things about reviewing is when occasionally an author writes to me to thank me for a review. That means a great deal to me! It also, though, makes reviewing a little harder. It reminds me that authors are people, and their books are their labors of love, and it probably hurts very much to read a poor review. However, I can't let that stop me from reviewing books honestly. I try very hard to be fair and polite in my reviews. I'm sure no-one sets out to write something that is less than good. But I feel a responsibility to those who might spend their money on a book to be honest.
Book reviewing has become one of my passions, one I wish I had a lot more time for. I love to read, I read very fast and I have a lot of opinions! Some day, when things are less hectic in my life, I'm going to go through my entire collection of children's books and write a review of every last one. That's the excuse, anyway, for collecting many more picture books than anyone needs!
Then I got a surprise---a letter from Amazon telling me they were going to start ranking reviewers, and that I was in their top 100 reviewer list---something like 55. They sent me a hat saying as much, and put a note by my name. I was pretty excited, just for the pure coolness of it all.
Then something strange started to happen. All of a sudden, all my reviews had tons and tons of "unhelpful" votes. Reviews that had never gotten any votes before were overnight getting 10 unhelpful votes. It was obvious someone in that top 100 list wanted to move up. It just seemed so stupid to me, but it also bothered me. After thinking about it a while, I decided it just wasn't worth it, and I wrote to Amazon telling them I didn't want to be ranked any more. They agreed, and I was no longer ranked.
After about 2 years, during which I still wrote a lot of reviews, I thought it might be fun to see what my ranking was, so I wrote and asked them to re-rank me. When they did, I was something like 800, which still was fun. Life intervened, and I stopped having time to write as much, and recently I feel out of the top 1000, but I still love doing reviews here and there. About 5 years ago, Amazon started their Vine program, and invited me to join. Now every month, I get to pick about 4 books (and once in a while other products) to review, and the books are sent to me for free---usually in advance reader editions. That's a blast---seeing books before anyone else does, and just getting free stuff!
If anyone would like to read any of my 558 reviews (that's over about 12 years, remember!), here's a link...
My Reviews
One of the coolest things about reviewing is when occasionally an author writes to me to thank me for a review. That means a great deal to me! It also, though, makes reviewing a little harder. It reminds me that authors are people, and their books are their labors of love, and it probably hurts very much to read a poor review. However, I can't let that stop me from reviewing books honestly. I try very hard to be fair and polite in my reviews. I'm sure no-one sets out to write something that is less than good. But I feel a responsibility to those who might spend their money on a book to be honest.
Book reviewing has become one of my passions, one I wish I had a lot more time for. I love to read, I read very fast and I have a lot of opinions! Some day, when things are less hectic in my life, I'm going to go through my entire collection of children's books and write a review of every last one. That's the excuse, anyway, for collecting many more picture books than anyone needs!
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Miniature Wildlife from my lawn
Here's a few more pictures!
This is a Red Admiral butterfly from my yard.
This one's a Variegated Fritillary. I love the name---it suits it!
A snail in the rain, also in my yard.
A couple of three lined potato beetles being, um, friendly with each other.
And because of the overwhelming demand, as promised, a fly picture! It's for you, Julie!
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