Wrestlers were walking out of the school doors.
They seemed wrestlers to Steve because they all had an air of superior virility about them. Sweat, stink, warm beneath thick jackets. And it was wrestling season. His job was to make sure that no students left without a pass and that no unreasonable person entered the school without stopping by the office for a nametag.
“You guys going to a meet or something?” He asked.
A lanky featherweight with zits looked at him and, with a surprisingly baritone voice, bellowed “Yeah.”
“Oh, well good luck at State.” Steve really only knew that it was time for the State Wrestling Championship because of the stupid Mohawks that the state qualifiers were given by their team mates. Cauliflower ears and Mohawks. The students continued to stoically saunter out of the doors. Two of the kids had been in his literature class last semester.
“Hey Juan, Sean, good luck at State!”
The students’ faces glowed with sweat, not pride. They both had grins on their faces after Steve had given them the platitude. No reply, though.
The floor in this part of the school building was new, and it made a tapping sound with every type of shoe. The tapping now had stopped and the hum of vending machines filled the corridors. A few kids’ voices echoed down the halls. A door slammed. Concrete settled. One last kid with a Mohawk came past Steve, he was on his way out the door.
“Good luck at your meet.”
“Oh. We already went to the meet. I am going home.”
The teacher was a freakin’ boulder in a field of rocks. Another kid down the hall screamed. Then the sound of rushing water and the echoing hall with the new floor and the rubber mats, the blue and orange humming vending machines, the teacher sitting at the desk checking kids’ passes all in unison went silent in a roar. The dilapidated pool on the second floor had caved, Steve couldn’t swim, and it was a Friday.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Motto
The English word 'motto' is a curious thing. It was adopted from the Romans - the Latin language, that is - to carry some connotation with it. What do you think of when you hear 'motto?' Perhaps a definition would clarify your understanding of this word: according to merriam-webster.com 'motto' can mean 'a short expression of a guiding principle.' Now, do you think of East-coast universities...you know, the ivy-leagues? Do you think of important organizations?
Here are some for you to chew on:
Harvard University's popularly selected motto is 'Veritas', the Latin word for 'truth.'
The British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) motto is 'Nation shall speak peace unto Nation.'
Jerry's Famous Deli of Studio City, California has the motto 'Where food and people mix.'
Jerry obviously has a problem with biting his cheek while eating. Now, the climax of this blog entry: what does 'motto' really mean? It originally meant 'grunt' in Latin. Consequently, Harvard's grunt is 'Truth.' I don't think I am so interested in having a motto anymore. Now you can just call me 'Jordanius' without referring to my motto:
'Conjectura Laconicus.'
Here are some for you to chew on:
Harvard University's popularly selected motto is 'Veritas', the Latin word for 'truth.'
The British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) motto is 'Nation shall speak peace unto Nation.'
Jerry's Famous Deli of Studio City, California has the motto 'Where food and people mix.'
Jerry obviously has a problem with biting his cheek while eating. Now, the climax of this blog entry: what does 'motto' really mean? It originally meant 'grunt' in Latin. Consequently, Harvard's grunt is 'Truth.' I don't think I am so interested in having a motto anymore. Now you can just call me 'Jordanius' without referring to my motto:
'Conjectura Laconicus.'
Thursday, November 22, 2007
The Grey Day Mushroom Hunt
(Yes, this entire post is fiction, but it is based on an infinitesimal amount of reality.)
Family gatherings have a way of reminding us of the complacent nature of personalities. There’s uncle Joe with his nervous twitch – of stroking his mustache while telling a story – one that makes everyone laugh. Then there’s the punk cousin who does everything he can to make your little sister cry. Aunt Juanita, who complains about her life through the megaphone of a mouth she decorates with too much purple lipstick.
Fortunately, personalities are not the only consistent presence at family get-togethers. There are also traditions. My favorite family tradition takes place every Thanksgiving at my maternal grandparent’s home. They own a ten-acre wooded and hilly plot in the country that is perfect for hiding things (they have a lot of problems with the mafia trying to hide things there – that’s why my grandfather owns a pellet gun). So, after a decade of Thanksgivings there, a new and, now, twenty-two year old tradition was borne from that hilly terrain.
The Grey Day Mushroom Hunt has been the same ever since its inception. It begins by dyeing over four pounds of morel mushrooms with various pastel colors. The two youngest members of the family then run around the acreage hiding the mushrooms throughout the woods, fields, and barns. The mushrooms are rather distinct looking, and the neighboring farmer once called the police to report ‘drug-related activity.’
After the kids return from the acres, two of the patriarchs of the family are selected through a rock-paper-scissors tournament. The chosen men are then led outside, blindfolded and sent out into the acreage to find all of the mushrooms. Each patriarch gets half of the family to guide them – with sticks. The Grey Day Mushroom Hunt was not intended to be a competition, but it has become one. The family members guide their patriarch by poking them or whacking them with the sticks, and there is often a great deal of yelling. ‘Hurry, I see a green one in that tuft of grass!’ ‘We are not going to lose this year!’ ‘Bring it on old man!’
Family gatherings have a way of reminding us of the complacent nature of personalities. There’s uncle Joe with his nervous twitch – of stroking his mustache while telling a story – one that makes everyone laugh. Then there’s the punk cousin who does everything he can to make your little sister cry. Aunt Juanita, who complains about her life through the megaphone of a mouth she decorates with too much purple lipstick.
Fortunately, personalities are not the only consistent presence at family get-togethers. There are also traditions. My favorite family tradition takes place every Thanksgiving at my maternal grandparent’s home. They own a ten-acre wooded and hilly plot in the country that is perfect for hiding things (they have a lot of problems with the mafia trying to hide things there – that’s why my grandfather owns a pellet gun). So, after a decade of Thanksgivings there, a new and, now, twenty-two year old tradition was borne from that hilly terrain.
The Grey Day Mushroom Hunt has been the same ever since its inception. It begins by dyeing over four pounds of morel mushrooms with various pastel colors. The two youngest members of the family then run around the acreage hiding the mushrooms throughout the woods, fields, and barns. The mushrooms are rather distinct looking, and the neighboring farmer once called the police to report ‘drug-related activity.’
After the kids return from the acres, two of the patriarchs of the family are selected through a rock-paper-scissors tournament. The chosen men are then led outside, blindfolded and sent out into the acreage to find all of the mushrooms. Each patriarch gets half of the family to guide them – with sticks. The Grey Day Mushroom Hunt was not intended to be a competition, but it has become one. The family members guide their patriarch by poking them or whacking them with the sticks, and there is often a great deal of yelling. ‘Hurry, I see a green one in that tuft of grass!’ ‘We are not going to lose this year!’ ‘Bring it on old man!’
Monday, October 15, 2007
How Mom Conditioned Me
This was part of an Educational Psychology Conditioning Essay that I recently wrote for class. Please enjoy reading about my adolescent experiences. All jargon has been italicized for you.
For this “experiment” section, I would like to rather cite an example of conditioning I have noticed rather than perform a new experiment. I am doing this because the conditioning I have witnessed is so applicable to what has been taught in chapter six, and would form just as powerful an example as a new experiment.
I was actually the subject of this experiment. It has to do with a type of conditioning known as classical conditioning and involved generalization. The unconditioned stimulus was a cup full of cold water with ice in it. I knew that it was cold. The unconditioned response was to get away from the cup full of cold water when I was aware of it. The environment consisted of my bedroom, immediately after my alarm clock was set off. This occurred during my senior year of high school.
The experiment began when my mother was frustrated with my tendency to sleep in on school days, often being late to class. My mother decided that if I did not respond to my alarm clock sounding, she would condition me, using an unconditioned stimulus: a cold cup of ice water, and an unconditioned response or respondent: my desire to avoid being doused by it. However, the sound of ice in the cup as she carried it into my room was a neutral stimulus, I did not, at first, associate it with being doused with cold water.
After the first two times of applying the unconditioned stimulus: the sound of ice in the cup, I learned that this meant that I would soon experience freezing cold water being poured on me. The sound of the ice in the cup quickly became a conditioned stimulus because I associated it with the negative experience of being doused with cold water and ice. This caused a somewhat involuntary response of my getting out of bed as soon as possible, which was a conditioned response (I was barely conscious when this occurred).
Since cold water and discomfort were contiguous, I only needed to learn that the stimulus (which was previously neutral) of hearing ice in a cup sloshing around, was associated with the presence of cold water. My mother was rather successful in conditioning me by generalizing the sound of sloshing ice in a cup with the negative experience of being doused with cold water. To this day, I get up as soon as I hear any sound associated with ice, even if it is not directed to me, because I was conditioned to do so.
For this “experiment” section, I would like to rather cite an example of conditioning I have noticed rather than perform a new experiment. I am doing this because the conditioning I have witnessed is so applicable to what has been taught in chapter six, and would form just as powerful an example as a new experiment.
I was actually the subject of this experiment. It has to do with a type of conditioning known as classical conditioning and involved generalization. The unconditioned stimulus was a cup full of cold water with ice in it. I knew that it was cold. The unconditioned response was to get away from the cup full of cold water when I was aware of it. The environment consisted of my bedroom, immediately after my alarm clock was set off. This occurred during my senior year of high school.
The experiment began when my mother was frustrated with my tendency to sleep in on school days, often being late to class. My mother decided that if I did not respond to my alarm clock sounding, she would condition me, using an unconditioned stimulus: a cold cup of ice water, and an unconditioned response or respondent: my desire to avoid being doused by it. However, the sound of ice in the cup as she carried it into my room was a neutral stimulus, I did not, at first, associate it with being doused with cold water.
After the first two times of applying the unconditioned stimulus: the sound of ice in the cup, I learned that this meant that I would soon experience freezing cold water being poured on me. The sound of the ice in the cup quickly became a conditioned stimulus because I associated it with the negative experience of being doused with cold water and ice. This caused a somewhat involuntary response of my getting out of bed as soon as possible, which was a conditioned response (I was barely conscious when this occurred).
Since cold water and discomfort were contiguous, I only needed to learn that the stimulus (which was previously neutral) of hearing ice in a cup sloshing around, was associated with the presence of cold water. My mother was rather successful in conditioning me by generalizing the sound of sloshing ice in a cup with the negative experience of being doused with cold water. To this day, I get up as soon as I hear any sound associated with ice, even if it is not directed to me, because I was conditioned to do so.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Memo
Avalist Holdings Corporation
-
Memo
-To: All Personnel
From: Corporate Training Office
CC: CEO; HHRM
Date: 8/22/2007
Re: New Training Video Format
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Avalist Holdings Corporation is contracting Ragdoll Productions for new Training Video Series
-
Avalist Holdings Corporation has signed a contract with Ragdoll Productions to film and produce all new training videos. Ragdoll Productions is the popular and successful producer of many British television shows including Teletubbies. The corporate training office has decided to give Ragdoll productions full creative license in the creation of these new training videos in order to ensure personnel engagement in the training process.
-
Several changes to the training curriculum and videos will be noticed as a result of this contract. The format that Ragdoll Productions will utilize in these new training videos will match that of an episode of Teletubbies.
-
The symbol of a sun personified as a baby will be seen in all new training videos in order to create a homogenous theme to all subjects. The multiple training video montages within each curriculum will now be shown twice to increase memorization, as seen on Teletubbies. None of the characters used in the training videos will speak with comprehensible words, but will make monosyllabic and high-pitched sounds to communicate. The narrator of all training videos will have a British accent and will speak in a patronizing tone to the trainee audience.
-
The corporate leadership team feels that this new chapter in training at Avalist Holdings Corporation will be a successful one. Questions should be submitted to the HHRM or the Corporate Training Office as listed in your company directory.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Insomnia
Now that I am writing, I am finally getting sleepy…no wait…still here. Ah, shoot, I was almost drowsy for a second. I woke up at about 3am thinking about stuff, namely food, and I could not go back to sleep. What do you do to get tired again when your body, for some crazy reason, thinks it should be up at the clubbin’ hours of the night? Warm milk? No, tried that and it turned out to be a big mistake – you shouldn’t drink milk when it is still simmering. Now my tongue is swollen.
I went to the grocery store today and got some sweet food products. I got this new herbal tea called ‘lemon liftoff’, and it is looking mighty fine sitting on the counter next to a can of dog food. The little picture on the box is of a lemon-shaped rocket taking off. Maybe this – warm tea – will put me to sleep. Three cups later the tea is still having no effect. In fact, I am feeling pretty lucid right now – the light is on upstairs, and I am ready to pull an all-nighter!
By now, the first two cups of tea have passed through my body, and I have to visit the restroom. In the mirror, I check out my eyes – weird, the pupils are dilated, and I feel like there is a short, but talented, rapper beat-boxing to my heartbeat in my head. Needless to say, I am inspired to beat-box myself and start making the typical night club sounds with my mouth that irritate my wife. She takes notice, from the other room, and wakes up just enough to have an articulated conversation with me.
“You’re hitting trees,” she exclaims. I see the potential for fun here.
“Where am I hitting trees?”
“On the road.”
“What am I driving?”
“The car.”
“Why didn’t we take the spaceship out this time, honey, it has cruise control?!”
“Shutup.” Okay, maybe she doesn’t want to have a dream-induced conversation. But I am still not asleep. What could be boring enough to put me to sleep? Maybe reading a textbook. No, I am not that desperate. My writing, yes, that is boring enough to put me to sleep. So, I sit down and start writing ws blog entry. Snow that I amriting I am finallllylllll getting sleepy sffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff.fva d. And suddenly I am dreaming of a lemon-shaped rocket stocked with dog food. Wait, we don’t even have a dog!
I went to the grocery store today and got some sweet food products. I got this new herbal tea called ‘lemon liftoff’, and it is looking mighty fine sitting on the counter next to a can of dog food. The little picture on the box is of a lemon-shaped rocket taking off. Maybe this – warm tea – will put me to sleep. Three cups later the tea is still having no effect. In fact, I am feeling pretty lucid right now – the light is on upstairs, and I am ready to pull an all-nighter!
By now, the first two cups of tea have passed through my body, and I have to visit the restroom. In the mirror, I check out my eyes – weird, the pupils are dilated, and I feel like there is a short, but talented, rapper beat-boxing to my heartbeat in my head. Needless to say, I am inspired to beat-box myself and start making the typical night club sounds with my mouth that irritate my wife. She takes notice, from the other room, and wakes up just enough to have an articulated conversation with me.
“You’re hitting trees,” she exclaims. I see the potential for fun here.
“Where am I hitting trees?”
“On the road.”
“What am I driving?”
“The car.”
“Why didn’t we take the spaceship out this time, honey, it has cruise control?!”
“Shutup.” Okay, maybe she doesn’t want to have a dream-induced conversation. But I am still not asleep. What could be boring enough to put me to sleep? Maybe reading a textbook. No, I am not that desperate. My writing, yes, that is boring enough to put me to sleep. So, I sit down and start writing ws blog entry. Snow that I amriting I am finallllylllll getting sleepy sffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff.fva d. And suddenly I am dreaming of a lemon-shaped rocket stocked with dog food. Wait, we don’t even have a dog!
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
N.A.CH.O.
For Tricky Nick
-
My name is Jacques and I am a charter member of N.A.CH.O. To those of you not familiar with snappy acronyms and their true meanings, that stands for the National Association of Chihuahua Owners. Our organization was started in 1984 with the primary goal of uniting Chihuahua owners so that proper legislation could be made for our pint-sized pals. Whether you own the Teacup, Toy, Ultratoy, Ragdoll, Longhair, Hairless, or Triple Blink variety of Chihuahua, we welcome you to our family.
-
Have you ever had the problem of pushy businesses with no concern for your best friend? I bring Ralph (my Toy Chihuahua) everywhere with me: department stores, ultra-chic clothing stores, coffee shops, jewelry stores, home improvement stores, night clubs, the doctor’s office; they are all where my dog belongs. During the winter, I cannot be expected to leave my darling best friend in the car to shiver. So I bring him into the stores with me – wearing his alpaca-hair sweater with a triple stitched French collar blouse layered beneath. He seems to get more compliments on his fashion than me.
-
Sometimes, when it is really cold, I tuck him halfway in my blazer so that he can stay warm off of my body heat. For some reason he still shivers though. And he blinks a lot; does your Chihuahua blink a lot? I am thinking that maybe I should have the vet take a look at him. I mean he blinks like twenty times a second.
-
The other day, Ralph and I were wearing our matching N.A.CH.O. t-shirts, and we went in to this one store with a manager that apparently had a problem with us. If this ever happens to you, simply flash your membership card and state: “I keep this dog for medical reasons; it is my right to bring him in here, so don’t give me any of your anti-canine guff!” Usually, the person harassing you about your Chihuahua friend will simply shake their head and leave you alone. If that doesn’t work, take a clue from your best friend and try the classic ‘owner-like-dog’ routine: start shaking with minute tremors and blink like ten times a second. Also, bulge your eyes out a little and look at the verbal attacker with an air of futile defiance.
-
My name is Jacques and I am a charter member of N.A.CH.O. To those of you not familiar with snappy acronyms and their true meanings, that stands for the National Association of Chihuahua Owners. Our organization was started in 1984 with the primary goal of uniting Chihuahua owners so that proper legislation could be made for our pint-sized pals. Whether you own the Teacup, Toy, Ultratoy, Ragdoll, Longhair, Hairless, or Triple Blink variety of Chihuahua, we welcome you to our family.
-
Have you ever had the problem of pushy businesses with no concern for your best friend? I bring Ralph (my Toy Chihuahua) everywhere with me: department stores, ultra-chic clothing stores, coffee shops, jewelry stores, home improvement stores, night clubs, the doctor’s office; they are all where my dog belongs. During the winter, I cannot be expected to leave my darling best friend in the car to shiver. So I bring him into the stores with me – wearing his alpaca-hair sweater with a triple stitched French collar blouse layered beneath. He seems to get more compliments on his fashion than me.
-
Sometimes, when it is really cold, I tuck him halfway in my blazer so that he can stay warm off of my body heat. For some reason he still shivers though. And he blinks a lot; does your Chihuahua blink a lot? I am thinking that maybe I should have the vet take a look at him. I mean he blinks like twenty times a second.
-
The other day, Ralph and I were wearing our matching N.A.CH.O. t-shirts, and we went in to this one store with a manager that apparently had a problem with us. If this ever happens to you, simply flash your membership card and state: “I keep this dog for medical reasons; it is my right to bring him in here, so don’t give me any of your anti-canine guff!” Usually, the person harassing you about your Chihuahua friend will simply shake their head and leave you alone. If that doesn’t work, take a clue from your best friend and try the classic ‘owner-like-dog’ routine: start shaking with minute tremors and blink like ten times a second. Also, bulge your eyes out a little and look at the verbal attacker with an air of futile defiance.
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