2007: Not a big fan.

It’s that time of year again, when I engage in a bit of navel-gazing. I do this questionnaire at the end of each year, so here’s the 2007 version. If a fairly negative tone is detected running though this post, that’s to be expected, because for me, 2007 was, as years go, a steaming bowl of cat poo, and I’m just as happy to see the damned smelly year come to an end.

Did you keep your New Years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I kept them all, yay! I resolved to not jump out of airplanes without a parachute, to not paddle a leaky kayak through shark-infested waters, to not invade a landlocked Asian country without securing permission of its neighbors to use their airspace, and to not enter into any secret alliances with Sith Lords or Eddorians. All of these resolutions I kept, and I shall be applying my newfound resolve to the coming year.

In 2008 I shall rein back on the scope of my resolutions. I plan to read more, listen to more music, see more movies. What I want to do is take the AFI’s “Top 100 Movies Ever” list and see as many of the ones on that list that I haven’t seen. I’ll track my progress in this blog.

My big resolutions are twofold. First is to write more, with more fiction to come, as well as making a new attempt at launching a freelance-writing career. Second is to live healthier. The generosity of my parents has made it possible for my family and I to join the local Y this year, and I’m greatly looking forward to using that facility (which is about two miles down the road) to get in better shape than I am now. I actually started trending in this direction in 2007, doing lots of walking during the summer and fall and learning to eat healthier. I’ve doubled the number of vegetables I like to eat (there are four veggies on my menu now, yay!), and I’ve discovered that good bread dipped in extra virgin olive oil has flavor that puts bread-and-butter to shame.

Did anyone close to you give birth?

Yeah, she did.

Also, a number of valued friends at work had babies this year, actually.

UPDATE: Ach! I forgot Scotty!

Did anyone close to you die?

Yeah. About two hours after she was born. This is what I’m talking about, folks: 2007 was supposed to be the good year.

What countries did you visit?

Provence (by way of Guy Gavriel Kay), various worlds (by way of the crew of Serenity), Barsoom (by way of Edgar Rice Burroughs), and the various countries of my own mind.

What would you like to have in 2008 that you lacked in 2007?

Peace of mind and heart.

What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Keeping my head above water, most of the time; grabbing the life preserver when it was thrown to me. (This is metaphor.)

As for non-metaphorical stuff, probably my biggest accomplishment — maybe my only accomplishment — was winning the Buffalo News short story contest. I’ve earlier today made the text of the story available on the blog here, since to my knowledge it’s gone from the News website. Read it, it’s short.

What was your biggest failure?

Ignoring the writing on the map that read, “Here there be monsters.” (Still metaphor.)

Back to non-metaphors: The Promised King? Still unfinished. 2008, here we come.

What was the best thing you bought?

Well, Guy Gavriel Kay’s latest novel Ysabel; my copy of The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King: The Complete Recordings; my reference Bible (TNIV); and leaving them all in the dust, my Dell Inspiron 1520 laptop.

Whose behavior merited celebration?

The Daughter, who has had Big Sisterhood taken from her three times now, who has seen two “best friends next door” move away in one year, and who has had to stand by while her parents weathered storms.

Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

As always, the Republicans in Congress and the media who refuse to report on their shenanigans, as well as all the enabling right-wingers who still cling to the absurd notion that Iraq either is or can be a “victory”, that global warming is either something that doesn’t exist or if it does exist is caused by the sun so we can all just trundle merrily along doing whatever we want, and that revenues go up when you cut taxes. I’m also annoyed by the candidates for that party’s Presidential nomination, every single one of them.

Then there were the New York State government people of all persuasions. New Governor Spitzer promised that everything would change on Day One, but he appears to have found a loophole in not exactly saying when Day One is. Then there’s just the entire “More spending, more power for us” attitude in Albany; talk about fiddling while Rome burns. Nero had nothing on these guys.

On a less political note, Major League Baseball has finally lost me completely, even if the Pirates somehow do manage to field a decent team.

Where did most of your money go?

Increasingly, gas and food. Funny how those prices go up and up and up while the paychecks don’t. But that’s OK, because rich people get richer, so the economy’s just fine and I should just shut up and smile while they pocket their tax cuts.

What did you get really excited about?

The new GGK novel; my new laptop.

What song will always remind you of 2007?

“Yo Ho Yo Ho, A Pirate’s Life For Me” (we’ve been on a Pirates of the Caribbean kick lately). “People Get Ready”, by Curtis Mayfield. “I’m Alright”, by Jo Dee Messina (not a country fan, but I love this song). “Scythr Song”, by Dougie Maclean. And “The Village Lanterne”, by Blackmore’s Night. This is too bad, really, because those are really good songs, and they deserve better than to be associated in my head with the 365 Days of Crap on a Stick that was 2007.

Compared to this time last year, are you happier or sadder?

Huh. I’m gonna have to think about that one a bit.

Thinner or fatter?

Thinner, but not by a whole lot yet. That’s still to come.

Richer or poorer?

Poorer, but not horribly. Yet. I’m just loving getting less than half a tank of gas in my car for twenty bucks and paying twice for milk that I paid a year ago, and then coming home and reading articles about the approaching recession that still hasn’t arrived.

What do you wish you’d done more of?

Writing, listening, drinking rum, watching movies.

What do you wish you’d done less of?

Worrying about stuff I can’t control, and controlling the stuff I wasn’t worried about.

How will you be spending Christmas?

Well, Christmas is past, as always. I spent it with my family. Opening gifts, eating food, reading and writing, visiting Little Quinn’s grave.

Did you fall in love in 2007?

As always, I fall in love on a daily basis. (I’ve been giving that answer every year for this question.)

How many one-night stands?

Eight, and they were on the same night. Wow, I was tired for days after that. (No, this isn’t true. Yeesh. But as if I would answer that question!)

What was your favorite TV program?

Scrubs (now in its final season), The Amazing Race (I love you Mirna!), American Idol (of the final two this year the right person won, but it was the wrong final two in the first place), Firefly. (No one said it had to a be a show that aired this year.)

Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

Hate’s a pretty useless emotion. That’s why I keep all of my hatred focused upon professional football personnel from the Boston, MA area. Oh, and on the Dutch. I hate the Dutch!

(And while I don’t “hate” any of them, I find the candidates for the Republican presidential nomination laughable, without exception. Wow, what a bunch of wankers.)

What was the best book you read?

Off the top of my head, Ysabel by GGK and The Rest is Noise by Alex Ross. But when I do my “Best posts of 2007” post later on, I’ll probably discover a number of other books worthy of mention here.

What was your greatest musical discovery?

Years ago, I listened to the symphonies of Jean Sibelius and didn’t like them much at all, so aside from Finlandia, I’ve not much bothered with Sibelius since then. Until, that is, a few weeks ago, when I dusted off a CD of his Fifth Symphony (Leonard Bernstein, VPO), and found myself captivated by the musical imagery.

What did you want and get?

The laptop, obviously. At work, I also got a new 18-volt cordless drill. I acquired more books and music and movie.

What did you want and not get?

Healthy Child Number Two. When one finds one’s dead children outnumbering their living children, one looks to the Guy Upstairs and asks, “Hey, just how essential is my suffering to this ‘plan’ of yours, anyway?”

What were your favorite films of this year?

I tend to be very lax in seeing movies in their year of release, given how expensive movie-going has become. This year I saw only two movies, and I liked The Simpsons Movie more than I liked Spiderman 3. Ironically, this was clinched by the appearance of Spiderpig.

What did you do on your birthday?

It wasn’t exactly on my birthday, but The Wife and I took an overnight jaunt to the Fingerlakes Region and Ithaca, NY.

How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2007?

Same as always: Bob Vila abducted by deadheads. Changing one’s “fashion concept” on a yearly basis strikes me as terribly silly, as does heeding the fashion advice of people who, in my eyes, look staggeringly silly or downright corpselike.

What kept you sane?

I’m not convinced that I did, in fact, remain sane in 2007, but I’ll stick with my stock answer: The Daughter.

Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Jenna Fischer, Sela Ward, Miss Teen South Carolina. (She had a point, folks: most US Americans actually don’t have maps.)

What political issue stirred you the most?

Global warming. (After I clicked a link in a blog and found myself reading Orson Scott Card’s essay in which he responds to Al Gore’s winning the Nobel Peace Prize by calling Gore “pond scum”, I banished Card forever from my bookshelves. I’ll just have to live as good a literary life as I can without ever having read Ender’s Game. Somehow I think I’ll survive.)

Who did you miss?

Bill Clinton. But hey, 2008 may bring the next best thing!

Who was the best new person you met?

You. No, not you. I knew you already. You. Yeah, you.

Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2007:

Re-using the ones from last year: The Internet is made of people. Rush more, blitz less. Don’t punt when you’re trailing or when you’re in your opponent’s territory. Democracy works, at least sometimes. Not all tears are an evil. Cool-whip is a miracle substance. So is ice cream. Use your library; limiting your reading to only those books you can afford to buy is madness. OpenOffice is a quality program. From pizza to quiche to apple to coconut cream, pie is the greatest of foods. We’re not meant to be alone. No object fits in your hand so perfectly as your wife’s hand, and no object fits so perfectly on your shoulder as your child’s head. Keep smiling, because you never know what life will throw in your face next!

Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:

“The Village Lanterne”, by Blackmore’s Night, mentioned in a question above:

Don’t shed a tear for me
I stand alone
This path of destiny
Is all my own
Once in the hands of fate
There is no choice
An echo on the wind
You’ll hear my voice…

Some choose to fall behind
Some choose to lead
Some choose a golden path
Laden with greed
But it’s the noble heart
That makes you strong
And in that heart, I’m with you all along…

*The olde village lanterne
Is calling me onward
Leading wherever I roam
The olde village lanterne
A light in the dark
Bringing me closer to home…

So when you think of me
Do so with pride
Honor and bravery
Ruled by my side
And in your memory
I will remain
I will forever be within the flame…

Now at the journey’s end
We’ve traveled far
And all we have to show
Are battle scars
But in the love we shared
We will transcend
And in that love, our journey never ends…

So there we have it: 2007. Raise to it a glass, then kick it in the ass!

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Stuff!

Some lazy linkage for a snowy Thursday evening:

:: Lynn Sislo hasn’t posted in several days. As she lives in Oklahoma, I assume that this is due to the ice storm they had in those parts. I hope she’s back online soon.

:: Do check out this wonderful article about visual injokes in Pixar’s movies. I love stuff like this.

:: I suppose I should start reading Terry Pratchett sometime soon. He has been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.

:: When I become Supreme Ruler of Teh Universe, my first decree will be that all gas stations shall be one-way only, and that it will be illegal to swing your car into the opposite direction just because the one open pump is on the opposite side of your car as the gas cap. I am really tired of trying to figure out how to line up for a pump, when more often than not, the cars at the pumps will be facing me no matter which way I queue up.

:: Via Michael May I see that Joss Whedon’s not done with the Firefly universe, and will tell more stories there in the best medium for the job: comics. In fact, he’s apparently already done a comic of Firefly; I’ll have to track that down. It’s called Those Left Behind; the new one will be called Better Days. Cool. (Note to self: finish watching Firefly and then watch Serenity one of these days.)

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I’m just a kid who’s four, each day I grow some more!

In an odd moment during the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, when the Dora the Explorer balloon floated by, The Daughter voiced her strenuous dislike of Dora. This took me by surprise, because time was – and not too long ago, either – when The Daughter liked Dora a great deal. But now? Not so much. She insists that Dora is for babies and she’s not a baby, so no Dora for her anymore, thank you very much.

But she still likes watching Caillou, whose appeal is, I think, even more limited than Dora’s.

For those who haven’t seen Caillou, he’s a four-year-old boy who lives with his parents and his toddler sister somewhere in pseudo-urban Canada, where he basically does all the normal stuff a four-year-old kid does. He plays with his toys, he gets upset when he’s left home with a babysitter but ends up having fun, he pouts about doing chores until his Mommy finds a way to make it fun, he helps Daddy wash the car (which consists of sitting inside it pretending to drive while Daddy does the work). Now, I personally don’t find Caillou all that objectionable, but I know that a lot of folks find him unbearably whiny, which I can certainly understand. I like that the show’s not grounded in any kind of fantasy or magical make-believe at all (although no explanation is ever offered as to just why if is that Caillou is as bald as a stone whilst every other member of his family has a nice thick head of hair). It does get annoying that every problem this family ever has is so easily defused and that the parents always know exactly how to fix any conflict or say the right thing or whatever.

Anyway, last time I was in the room whilst Caillou was on TV, I thought it would be funny if everyone in the Caillou-verse aged except Caillou himself. Imagine Caillou as an eternal four-year-old, reacting to stuff!

Caillou, Daddy, and the Three-Day Bender!

Daddy walks in. His ever-present green sweater is ripped at the hem and has some spots of brown goo on it. Daddy’s face is slightly green, his cheeks sport three days’ growth of beard, and his eyes are bloodshot.

CAILLOU: Mommy, Daddy’s home! Where have you been, Daddy? It’s Friday and you haven’t been home since Tuesday.

DADDY: Ooooooggg… (runs into bathroom)

CAILLOU: Daddy, you don’t look so good.

MOMMY: Maybe you should leave Daddy alone, Caillou. Maybe tomorrow when he feels better you can help him look for a new job by cutting out some of the want-ads for him!

CAILLOU: Was Daddy fired, Mommy?

MOMMY: Sometimes bosses and employees don’t agree on things, Caillou. And sometimes bosses are skinflint bastards who only care about the bottom line.

CAILLOU: Mommy, you told me not to call people ‘bastards’.

MOMMY: Yes, I’m sorry, Caillou. Hey! Can you come downstairs and help me bake some cookies?

CAILLOU: OK Mommy!

Caillou runs downstairs. Meanwhile, the sounds of retching come from the bathroom.

Caillou, Rosie, and Sneaking Out At Night!

Caillou knocks softly on Rosie’s door. Rosie, now a teenager, is putting the finishing touches on her Goth outfit, dabbing black lipstick on her lips and getting the chain around her neck just the right tightness.

CAILLOU: Rosie? I can’t sleep!

ROSIE: Go talk to Mom, Caillou. I’m busy.

CAILLOU: I knocked on their door, but Mommy’s moaning a lot and Daddy threw a shoe at the door.

ROSIE: Well, maybe you should leave them alone, Caillou. Adults like to be alone sometimes.

CAILLOU: Not Mommy! She loves me. We’re going to bake cookies later!

ROSIE: Yeah…well, why don’t you go down to the kitchen and start getting the stuff for cookies ready? That way it’ll all be out when Mommy gets up to get a glass of water in about fifteen minutes.

CAILLOU: Okay Rosie! Are you sure it will be fifteen minutes?

ROSIE: That’s usually how long it takes them.

CAILLOU: Okay!

Caillou runs out, singing something about cookie baking with Mommy. Rosie shakes her head, puts own her black leather jacket, opens her window, and jumps over to the oak tree that’s her usual means of nocturnal escape.

Caillou Looks For Gilbert the Cat!

Mommy and Daddy are in the kitchen. Mommy is doing dishes, while Daddy reads the paper, smokes a cigarette, and drinks coffee. Caillou can be heard offscreen, calling the cat.

CAILLOU: Gilbert! Gilbert! Come out wherever you are!

Caillou comes into the kitchen. Daddy quickly stubs out his cigarette and stuffs the butt into his pocket.

DADDY: Uh, hi there, Caillou!

CAILLOU: Hi Daddy. Wow, it always smells smoky in the morning in here.

MOMMY: That’s the garbage disposal, Caillou! The motor is breaking. I keep telling Daddy to get a new one.

DADDY: Yeah, but I just like that smell so much!

CAILLOU: I can’t find Gilbert anywhere!

DADDY: Really? He was just here. I think he went that way! (points to living room)

CAILLOU: Here I come, Gilbert!

Certain that he’s on the trail for sure this time, Caillou goes running out of the room.

CAILLOU: Come out wherever you are, Gilbert!

MOMMY: You know, most families tell their kids some lie about the cat going to live on a farm or a petting zoo.

DADDY: (pulls out his cigarette butt) Just shut up and get me another match, will you?

Caillou’s Uncle Timmie and the Magic Brownies!

The living room in Caillou’s house. Lots of people are around. Everyone’s wearing black, except for Caillou, who’s in that eternal yellow shirt of his. Everyone’s crying too, except Caillou.

CAILLOU: I didn’t know they made boxes big enough for people, Grandma!

Grandma pretty much ignores Caillou completely.

CAILLOU: Will you need help pushing Grandpa’s box upstairs, Grandma? He’s pretty fat, you know.

Some guy we’ve never seen before, a long-haired guy who has paired a black suit with a tie-dyed necktie, appears beside Caillou and steers him away from Grandma.

UNCLE TIMMIE: Hey, little dude! Why don’tcha come outside with me, eh?

CAILLOU: Okay, Uncle Timmie!

Caillou follows Timmie to the kitchen, where they find Mommy and Daddy, who are standing over by the fridge in very close proximity to one another.

MOMMY: My, darling! You haven’t been like this in six days!

DADDY: You should wear black more often, dear! It makes your chest look so–

TIMMIE: (loudly) Oh, well, we’d better go outside, Caillou!

MOMMY: Oh Caillou! Yeah. Go outside. We’ll be out ourselves in a while. First we have some stuff to do upstairs.

DADDY: Heh!

MOMMY: Hee hee hee….

Caillou follows Timmie outside.

DADDY: Should Caillou spend so much time with Timmie?

MOMMY: Forget Caillou for once! I’m so sick of baking cookies with that kid!

Outside, Timmie sits down on the stoop with Caillou.

TIMMIE: Say, none of the people in there are cops, are they?

CAILLOU: No. Why, Uncle Timmie?

TIMMIE: Oh, nothing. Here, hold Uncle Timmie’s flask for a few minutes. (hands Caillou his whiskey flask) Oh, and hold this too.

CAILLOU: (takes a ziploc bag from Timmie) This looks like what Mommy puts in the lasagna.

TIMMIE: Ha! Well, this stuff wouldn’t taste too good in lasagna, Caillou! But it sure makes for some great brownies!

CAILLOU: Brownies? I love brownies!

TIMMIE: Me too, kid!

CAILLOU: Did you bake brownies with this stuff with Grandpa?

TIMMIE: (laughing) One time, yeah. He kicked me out of the house after that.

CAILLOU: He did?

TIMMIT: Uh-huh. Say, why don’t you show Uncle Timmie where Mommy keeps her baking supplies? I’ll let you lick the beaters when I’m done mixing the batter!

CAILLOU: Yayyyy!

(I know, I know…the subject of this post is sure to come up when I’m sitting down for my one-on-one Life Performance Review with Saint Peter.)

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Shhhh! Writer at work!


Writer at work, originally uploaded by Jaquandor.

Stop botherin’ me. I’m writin’ here.

Sorry about the dearth of posting the last few days, folks, but the week here at Casa Jaquandor got a bit unexpectedly busy over the last few days. Not bad busy, just a whole lot of stuff that ended up on the plate and being more time-consuming than I’d figured at the time. Plus, I’ve been fending off a minor head cold. Regular posting should begin again tomorrow.

By way of a progress report: I’ve been doing a lot more fiction writing lately — I finished a draft of a horror story a few weeks ago (which is now laying fallow for a time before I edit it) and I’ve started my first-ever actual attempt at a SF story (about two-thirds of the way through the first draft). I’ve also started noodling about with a space opera novel concept I’ve had percolating about my head for a few years now (this one, actually, although I started it over completely) and, believe it or not, a screenplay. And I also mean, once the Halloween festivities are over, to finally get back on track with The Promised King. I’ve also been doing some more reading, movie-watching, music-listening, and I have some longer essays in the hopper for eventual appearance in this space. So, fear not, regular readers: new content is in the offing!

I’d like to thank everyone who has delurked already, and welcome any other lurkers to do likewise, if you’re comfortable. I truly appreciate the fact that anyone at all thinks this blog worth following!

In closing, here’s a nifty item: the Top Ten Sound Effects of the Star Wars movies:

This list is almost perfect: One sound is, in my opinion, inexplicably absent. Which one? Why — that’s for you all to guess! (For extra credit, guess which one I’d replace.)

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Grrrr.

For those of you who are not in the continual company of a kid in the 6 to 9 years old range, you won’t understand this. Those of you who are acquainted with the vagaries of said age group, however, will certainly agree with me when I say:

Evil, thy name is Webkinz.

That is all.

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Still active after all these years

In the hallway at The Store that leads to the public restrooms, the walls are adorned with prints of old photographs from the community (West Seneca, NY), which I assume were procured from the local historical society. I’ve looked at each of these photographs in the time I’ve worked there, since part of my job involves cleaning those restrooms; one of those photos, though, has been particularly interesting to me in that time. Mainly this is because it is on the wall directly opposite the Ladies’ Room, and I often have to stand outside this room for several minutes while those persons inside finish their duties, thus giving me time to study this photograph.

I’ve looked at the faces in that photograph many times, and I’ve come to see personalities within them, just from the way the people look: their postures, their expressions. The photograph is of a schoolroom, and the people are the schoolkids — probably in the ten to eleven year old range — and their teacher. I see things about these kids, and I’m always wanting to discuss these observations of mine with someone else, but restroom cleaning’s a pretty solitary job, and none of the women exiting the restroom (or entering, come to that) are ever much inclined to listen to the musings of the maintenance guy on the old photo.

This, in short, is a job that blogging was meant for. But how?

Well, today I’m standing there as usual, waiting for my opportunity to tidy up that restroom, and it suddenly occurred to me that my cell phone has a camera. I took a shot of the old photograph, e-mailed it to myself, and now I can at last present it here:

First, all of the kids are in the back of the room with a bunch of empty desks at the front, which makes it clear that they all moved to different desks to accommodate the photographer. Also, no one is smiling, which is the way things usually are in old photographs like this — when did smiling become the standard behavior for photographs, anyway? But maybe there’s a tendency to assume that a lack of a smile means a lack of display of personality, and it turns out, that’s just not the case.

The teacher, standing in the rear, looks like a fairly stern fellow, but this might not be the case. In any event, he’s totally focused on the photo being taken: his suit is in perfect order, his posture is straight, and with his hands folded behind his back, he looks like he’s in confident command of this classroom.

A lot of the kids are in similarly straight, controlled postures. But not all of them. Look at that girl just to the teacher’s right: she’s turned slightly toward the back, she has her elbow rested on the back of her chair, and she’s leaning her head against her hand. Also at the back of the room (rear seat, second column from the right) is a girl who is leaning forward with her arms folded on the top of her desk. That interests me, since most everyone else has their arms carefully down, out of view. It’s interesting to contrast those two girls with, say, the one in the second seat back on the rightmost column: that girl is the very model of the posture one expects from a photograph in this era. Her back is utterly straight, her head is held precisely forward, her arms and hands out of view.

Turning to the boys in the photograph, other interesting things appear as I look at this. All of the boys have open schoolbooks on their desks. (In fairness, the angle makes it hard to determine conclusively if the girls are sitting without books on their desks, but I don’t think they are.) I don’t think this says anything about boys and girls, necessarily. Or maybe it does. I’m no historian of education, after all; does it mean anything that the boys have the books?

Again I turn to posture and clothing. All of the boys wear ties, either long ties or bowties. Of the seven, four wear jackets. That boy at the far left is wearing a sweater, it appears, and his left arm is cocked back onto the desk of the girl behind him, and he’s holding his book in what appears to be an exaggerated pose. Nobody’s going to do much reading of a book that size from that posture, so it seems to me that this guy’s showing off a bit. Maybe he’s the cocky one, the class clown.

Moving rightward, we have two boys in jackets and bowties. Nothing about the boy in front really stands out, but there’s something about the boy behind him that’s stronger, more assured. This kid always looks confident as hell to me, and there’s something about him that says “rich kid” to me — maybe it’s his jacket and upright, strong posture. Frankly, he looks like George Will a bit, doesn’t he? Yup, this is the banker’s son, I’ll bet. Here’s the class Republican. (I kid, there — but he does have that upper-crust air about him, even however-many-years later.)

Of the other four boys in this photograph, the two that interest me are the ones sitting in the front of the right two columns. Taking the boy in the dark shirt and light tie, it interests me that he sits kind-of slumped down fashion, with his arms flopped down at his side. He isn’t even feigning an interest in the book on his desk, the way all of the other boys are holding their books as if to suggest that their actual studies are being photographed. This kid is having none of that. This kid looks to me like a blunt, working-class type: not dumb, but rather of the mindset that this particular exercise is just another example of the kind of BS in life that’s best got done with right fast.

The boy at the far right is terribly interesting to me. First, he’s not sitting in the center of that desk; he’s edged all the way to the right of the seat. This is probably because it’s not his normal seat at all, for the reason stated above, but it makes him look terribly uncomfortable anyway, especially in light of the way he is holding his book at an angle and looking up at the camera in a terribly sheepish way. Whereas the last boy wanted to get the photograph done with because it’s all just a dumb waste of time, this kid doesn’t want to be photographed at all. This kid looks scared to me, timid, as if he’s the kid who spends every moment of his school day praying, over and over again, like a mantra: “Please don’t call on me. Please don’t call on me. Please don’t call on me.” He’s in the front of his column, and he looks totally ill-at-ease with this.

What else about this photograph interests me? Well, there’s the total lack of decoration in this classroom. I know it was an earlier time, but no hanging skeleton, if it’s a science class? No wall maps? No chart of the proper forms of the letters of the alphabet? What’s with the apparent netting on the walls? Are there decorations that were removed for some reason at the time of photography?

I also love the desks. I remember desks where chair and desktop were one unit, but these somehow reverse it: the chair is attached to the desktop for the student behind, not the student sitting in the chair. And, of course, this was the era when iron furniture had all kinds of ornate stuff going on in and around the framework. There’s a real sense of craft here.

Unfortunately, the tag that was once attached to the photograph, thus identifying its time and place (in the lower right corner you can see where the tag once was), is long-gone, so I can’t speculate on how old any of these kids might be if they were alive today (or if that might be feasible in the first place). It’s still a fascinating window into an earlier time, when even the apparent formality of a schoolroom photograph couldn’t totally suppress the individual personalities of the children.

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Tremble, mere mortals!

I’m writing this entry not from home, but from the wi-fi enabled cafe at another location of The Store. (My own Store does not currently have wi-fi, because the local telecom carriers don’t yet have a transmitter in close enough proximity to The Store for wi-fi to be possible.) I honestly don’t remember if I’ve ever posted to the blog from outside the friendly confines of Casa Jaquandor, so this may well be a first of epic proportions. I’m sitting here, drinking strawberry-infused iced tea, typing away as I generate the second draft of a short story I finished some time ago, and I’m happy as a clam.

(One day, someone’s going to have to do some actual scientific research as to the happiness of clams. How happy can they be, really?)

Oh, and I’ve got my cell phone on, too. In one fell swoop, I have planted my feet squarely in 2004! (I’m still lacking an iPod, obviously.)

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Holding Pattern Delta!

I’m not sure what “Holding Pattern Delta” involves, but it sounds cool, so that’s what I’m going with!

Anyhow, regular life this week still has lots of stuff in the hopper, what with The Wife’s vacation, family stuff, and various other activities planned, so posting here will still be sporadic for probably a week or so. I’ll try to have some Sentential Links and a Burst of Weirdness at some point, but they may not appear on their standard days.

By way of a progress report of sorts, in conjunction with my recent birthday (last week, for you lazy stragglers!), The Wife and I took a one-night trip into the Fingerlakes region (a few photos of which are available on my Flickr stream, accessible through the “Flickr Badge” thing in the sidebar). We took a scenic drive during which we did not enter a single four-lane, limited exchange highway, either the NYS Thruway or any other such expressway, which is really still the best way to see places. There was birthday cake and birthday pie, there was an Apple Festival in Ithaca (holy used bookstores, Batman!), one of the best toystores I’ve ever seen (don’t tell The Daughter! One of her Christmas presents is in our closet!), and other nice things done. And today we’re going to Pumpkinville…and I’m planning another round of tie-dying this week…and in between all that, I’m escaping to the planet Barsoom to adventure alongside Captain John Carter.

So anyway, keep checking in!

(Oh by the way, nobody still has made any guesses on Unidentified Earth 18, so I’ll keep narrowing it down. It’s in Oregon, folks. Come on! Somebody’s gotta know what that thing is!)

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