Not wearing a tie

"A professor I had in college used to tell me that if someone won't listen to what you have to say because you're not wearing a tie, then put on a tie, 'cause what you have to say is more important than not wearing a tie." Joe McNally – The Moment It Clicks.

"If you want to be a better photographer, stand in front of more interesting stuff." Jim Richardson, photographer for National Geographic – as quoted in The Moment It Clicks.


While perusing at the bookstore, I came across these gems and wanted to share them. Do you realize how much self control it takes just to leave those things here without any embellishment?

The evil that men do . . .

For years I've been troubled by Shakespeare's assertion: "The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones. . ."1 My own experience is that we are so loathe to “speak ill of the dead” that only the nice parts survive. However, for those who have been HURT by the departed, it will probably be the evil that lingers. We tend to view the departed through polarized lenses. This is most pronounced in the days immediately following a death. Time tends to restore perspective.

Author Rick Bragg demonstrates this restoration of perspective in his memoirs. His 1997 memoir, All Over But the Shoutin', chronicles his father's alcohol abuse and abandoning the family. In The Prince of Frogtown, Bragg revisits his father's earlier life in order to flesh out his portrait.

I discovered Bragg's work through an interview for BookPage magazine. The phrase that earned my respect was: "I didn't try to recreate some daddy for myself in this book."2 Most of us are tempted to do what Bragg resisted. Often we try to whitewash our histories. And while I certainly appreciate the sentiment, such dishonesty actually cripples us. A crutch is a good thing until it becomes a hindrance.



1 Julius Caesar, Act III, Scene 2, lines 80 & 81. After checking the context, I’d say that these comments are probably no more sincere than Anthony’s assertion that “Brutus is an honorable man.”
2 Bain, Rebecca. "Paternal Instincts." BookPage. June 2008. p. 5.

A PUNdaMental Poem

My understanding of society has been shaped in LARGE measure by this poem.



The Blindmen and the Elephant

by John Godfrey Saxe (1816–1887)


It was six men of Hindustan
to learning much inclined,
Who went to see the Elephant
(Though all of them were blind)
That each by observation
Might satisfy the mind.

The first approached the Elephant
And happening to fall
Against his broad and sturdy side
At once began to bawl:
"Bless me, it seems the Elephant
Is very like a wall".

The second, feeling of his tusk,
Cried, "Ho! What have we here
So very round and smooth and sharp?
To me 'tis mighty clear
This wonder of an Elephant
Is very like a spear".

The third approached the animal,
And happening to take
The squirming trunk within his hands,
Then boldly up and spake:
"I see," quoth he, "the Elephant
Is very like a snake."

The Fourth reached out an eager hand,
And felt about the knee.
"What most this wondrous beast is like
Is mighty plain," quoth he:
"'Tis clear enough the Elephant
Is very like a tree!"

The Fifth, who chanced to touch the ear,
Said: "E'en the blindest man
Can tell what this resembles most;
Deny the fact who can,
This marvel of an Elephant
Is very like a fan!"

The Sixth no sooner had begun
About the beast to grope,
Than, seizing on the swinging tail
That fell within his scope,
"I see," quoth he, "the Elephant
Is very like a rope!"

And so these men of Hindustan
Disputed loud and long,
Each in his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right
And all were in the wrong.

So oft in theologic wars,
The disputants, I ween,
Rail on in utter ignorance
Of what each other mean,
And prate about an Elephant
Not one of them has seen!

Retrieved from "http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Blindmen_and_the_Elephant"

The comment about rightness and wrongness reminds me of another bit of doggerel:

"A skunk sat on a stump.
The skunk thunk the stump stunk.
And the stump thunk the skunk stunk
But they was both wrong
Because they BOTH stunk."

Which leads to the truism from Paul Faulkner:

"Never get in a puking contest with a buzzard."

Punny Slideshow

I've just posted some photos from Abilene, Texas on u-lo-g.com. Several feature puns.
http://u-lo-g.com/abilene.aspx

Choosing

"When my friend Matilda lay dying of Lou Gehrig's disease, she said that she had been prepared all of her life to choose between good and evil. What no one had prepared her for, she lamented, was to choose between the good, the better and the best -- and yet this capacity turned out to be the one she most needed as she watched the sands of her life run out." Barbara Brown Taylor, p. 46, Leaving Church, A memoir of faith.

"Good is the enemy of GREAT" – according to Jim Collins.

Many (most?) of my choices seem to be made by default. I resist being responsible for my own circumstances, often preferring to be able to blame someone else for the predicament I'm in.

Leaving Church details Taylor's move away from preaching at a small town church to teaching at a nearby college. I'm jealous. The Georgia property she describes sounds beautiful (my ancestors once lived in Habersham County, GA). And I enjoyed teaching at the college level.

Pun-dering Teachers, Good and Bad.

Miriam Cohen's book, No Good in Art, celebrates good teachers. But it opens with a discouraging one, Jim's kindergarten art teacher, who was quick to criticize. Without her help Jim may never have known that his grass was too thick or that his people had no necks. By drawing her own images on Jim's paper our instructor instantly taught Jim that he was "no good in art." In contrast, the encourager who taught Jim's first grade class helped convince him that he might indeed, become an artist.

The system is filled with both kinds.

First graders aren't expected to have the maturity to handle authorities who squelch. But adults don't seem to be any better at handling such mistreatment.

Mouse Soup and other Tail Tales

Originally posted on Thursday, May 26, 2005

I said goodbye to my first graders today. The semester ends tomorrow and I expect to move away over the summer. So it was a bit sad for me. They remember me now. Know what to call me. But I've been doing this for several years and realize that in two or three years some of them won't remember me at all.

But for now, I have a sack full of thank you notes.

What did they remember? Some just said thanks for reading to us. One remembered that I was willing to listen to her "Knock Knock" Joke. A couple of kids liked seeing the picture of my grandson – which tied the number of kids who remembered the time I wore elf (or Vulcan) ears. Three (all boys) mentioned the Yu-gi-oh type cards I used last semester to show them that Yu-gi-oh is a math game. Four liked the riddles (usually spelled "rills"). Five remembered the popcorn I served when reading The Popcorn Book. And eleven mentioned a book called Mouse Soup.

I'm intrigued. Mouse Soup wasn't the last book I read them. Perhaps someone mentioned it to get them started remembering and that mention got multiple play in the thank you writing process? Or is Mouse Soup just that much more memorable? Why not Tales of Amanda Pig or Little Bear or my personal favorite, No Good in Art?