Clashing Symbols

Orbital Sayonara

2006-12-07T07:29:00.000-08:00

That phrase doesn't really mean anything, but the two words sound good together. They are also worth more than fifty points each in Scrabble. I played both in one game against an inhuman opponent, the software on my personal digital assistant (PDA), with the human handily winning, 405 to 270.

We are living in a Jetson world, minus those flying cars.

Back to the Blog

2006-12-02T23:03:00.000-08:00

It's been over six months since my last entry. A lot has happened in that time. I got a job, then I got another. I'll write some about each of those experiences in the near future. Come to think of it, a great deal has transpired in the past six months. My posts may be short or long and probably sporadic, but I think these will be a better use of them than, say, watching television.

Learning Experience

2006-05-29T15:37:00.000-07:00

"The main hope of a nation lies in the proper educaton of its youth."
Erasmus

During an extended hiatus between jobs I signed up to be a substitute teacher. There's not much required; passing grades on the three sections of the California Basic Educational Skills Test (CBEST), proof of having earned a bachelor's degree, and a negative result from a tuberculosis test. I presented those at the administative offices of the school district, had my fingerprints taken for a background check, and paid the necessary administrative fees. A week later I had my picture taken for an ID badge and received instruction on how to use their telephone system for substitute teaching jobs. I had never done anything like this, but it was something I thought I could manage. I've been told by friends and relatives that my disposition would be an asset in the classroom.

As it turned out, I received and accepted an offer of a permanent job less than six weeks later. I am grateful for those few days I worked as a substitute teacher, if for no other reason than gaining from that experience a deep appreciation for those who do that work every day of the school year. This photo is some of the twenty first grade students I taught for two days. Well, to say that I taught them is a bit of a stretch. Those children were as manipulative as they were charming. An inexperienced teacher's time could be consumed with simply having those young students sit still and be quiet for their lessons. Luckily for me, there were teacher's assistants in the classroom who were a big help in maintaining some semblance of order.

While at the school I took the opportunity to talk with a few of the teachers I met there. A man who teaches fifth grade wished me luck with the younger children. My brother-in-law in San Antonio teaches fourth grade and also regards the lower grades as a greater challenge. A first grade teacher mentioned how there isn't enough money to offer the teachers classes for professional development. There is not enough time to teach anything more than the three R's. My general impression is that the teachers have to contend with bureaucracy, but the time they enjoy with the children outweighs the negative aspects of their jobs.

It was interesting how quickly I learned the students' names and began to see them as individuals, each with her or his own distinctive character traits. I saw a list of recent test results on the teacher's desk during the lunch period. The scores were in line with my impressions of the students' academic skills. Some were very bright, first finished with their worksheets and eager to read books. A few had learning disabilities. One needed her classmates to act as translators. I could see how a teacher could invest time every school year getting to know each student as an individual.

Well, who knows? If I get tired of the work I am doing now, maybe I'll look into what would be necessary for certification and go back to teaching.

Fast Friend

2006-05-23T13:19:00.000-07:00

My friend Leigh Ann was in a fatal motorcycle accident last Tuesday. We were coworkers years ago. I hadn't seen her in quite a while, but that in no way diminishes my sadness at her passing. She was a vibrant person with an amazing breadth and depth of interests. Doing a Google search on her full name returns an amazing array of information on a variety of topics; motorcycles, Celtic music, cooking, Morris dancing, home brewing, creative writing. Leigh Ann had a unquenchable thirst for knowledge which served her well in her work in the software industry.

Leigh Ann brought much to everyone with whom she had contact. I can barely imagine how her death has affected the people closest to her. It's said that example is the best way to teach and that the most avid students are the best teachers. A vast number of us learned a great deal from Leigh Ann about living life passionately and having fun in the process. This color photo was taken during a birthday party on a boat on the San Francisco Bay with all the celebrants dressed in pirate regalia.

I once had two tickets to a concert by Indian violinist L. Subramanian. I asked Leigh Ann if she wanted to come with me. She agreed so I picked her up and we drove fifty miles to the college where the concert was held. I'd ordered the tickets early, so we had good seats. After the music ended, people went up on stage to say hello to L. Subramanian. Leigh Ann and I joined them. When it was her turn to say hello, Leigh Ann asked if she could shake his left hand because that was the one which did all the wonderful fretting on the violin. Leigh Ann was exuberant about that concert. I enjoyed it so much more for having gone with her.

In reflecting on Leigh Ann's life and her sudden death, I am struck by how our desires are so boundless. As much time as someone may live, it's never enough. I can imagine some expletive crossing her mind as she realized that was the last moment of her life. Fare thee well, Leigh Ann.

Travel to Tucson

2006-05-16T10:58:00.000-07:00

Just spend a wonderful three days with friends in Tucson. Flew out on Friday morning and returned on Monday afternoon. The impetus for this visit was the premiere of a new composition, a fantasia written for and performed by a very skilled orchestra of young people.

The pictures of the desert I show from a friend's rental. Not driving a car for three days was a nice break for me. The camera in my mobile phone can take pictures in black and white, color, or sepia. I like the sepia look, especially the desert shots. I don't like posed shots. I would just keep taking pictures knowing that many would be discarded. I'm still sifting through more than a hundred shots.

Spent most of my time in Arizona indoors. Good thing as I am no longer acclimated to warm summers. The temperature edged up to 100 degrees Farenheit. Everybody has air conditioning. Flights arriving in Tucson or Phoenix give passengers at the windows a view of swimming pools as the sun glints off the blue water.

The premiere performances on Saturday evening and Sunday afternoon were great. The composer said that it sounded as though they had seven more rehearsals before their first performance. The performance was that much better than the last rehearsal he'd attended. I enjoyed hearing the different groups perform. It is amazing how much technique the children learn on their instruments in just a few years.

As much as I enjoyed the time there in Arizona, I was reminded just how dreary travel can be. A woman across the aisle on my flight from Tucson to San Diego had three children, two or three more than she could handle. Just put a DVD in the little player and have your boys zone out on that. Don't worry about the sound of those videos. The world is your day care center.

Maybelline

2006-05-03T16:26:00.000-07:00

Years ago my son's middle school was on the way to my office. It was nice spending time with him in the morning on the drive to school. If we got an early start, I could take a more leisurely route, going up into the hills east of us then south on a street that winds its way down along the hills. The speed limit on most of that gently curving street is twenty-five miles per hour.

Well, one morning when heading down that street I see in my rearview mirror that the driver behind us is not maintaining a safe, fixed distance from us. Her car gets close to us, then drops back a bit, then creeps up again. The driver is using her rearview mirror, but not for the intended purpose. She should have had little lights installed around it. First she is checking her hair, then she starts in with the makeup application, all the while giving minimal attention to the task of driving. When I see her holding an eyelash curler, I pull over and let her past. I was nervous enough when she was wielding a sharpened pencil near her eyes.

Now, many parents rarely question their children's need for sleep or food. Though he had eaten breakfast just before we left the house that morning, my son tells me he's still a bit hungry. I make a quick detour to a commercial area that has a good coffee shop and a bakery next door. As I park the car, who should pull up next to us but that woman who was putting on her makeup en route. We get out of the car as she walks by, and I say, "Oh, your makeup looks fabulous!"

I related this incident to a female coworker. She was not happy to hear about it, and remarked that such behavior only perpetuates the stereotype that women are too concerned about their appearance and not very bright. Her exact words were something along the lines of "I f***in' hate it when women do that!"

By the way, Chuck Berry needed a title for his song about a woman driving a car and used the name of a cosmetics company, Maybelline. Thanks, Chuck.

Figure of Speech

2006-04-29T22:15:00.000-07:00

Are there any linguistic historians out there tracking these semantic inversions? Could one of them pinpoint when "literally" started to be used when "figuratively" is appropriate? I heard a journalist, presumably someone who has passed English courses at the college level, say, "The envoy was literally cramming American foreign policy down their throats". Hmmm, what did it taste like? Uh, given what's been going on, I don't think I want to know.

But back to the topic at hand, so to speak. The word "figuratively" refers to a figure of speech. After all, when someone says "head of the government" they are referring to a whole person. That figure of speech is metonymy. Others would use a different body part to refer to our present leader, probably something below the waist.

So, I propose a new adverb to use in place of "figuratively". It's "illiterally". Television journalists who had problems with figures of speech use that to signal the audience that they will be using language badly.

I don't have it in for journalists. It's just that their incorrect language is heard by thousands. Well, come to think of it, how many people read bulletin boards, forums, blogs, and Amazon reviews. Yeah, but those journalists are paid for their words. Hey, if I rent ad space here on my blog page, would that make me a journalist? Would I feel any more responsibility for what I write?

Ides of April

2006-04-10T16:08:00.000-07:00

This time of year, just remember that T-H-E I-R-S spells "theirs".

I worked at a regional service center of the IRS in Austin, Texas for a few years. They had a twenty-hour shift well-suited for someone who was a student, my situation when I was first hired. In many ways it was a good place to work for the slacker I was for much of my time employed there.

The work was not too taxing (no pun intended), but to paraphrase Super Chicken, "You knew the job was tedious when you took it, Fred". I had a coworker there named Fred. He was heavyset, wore glasses, smoked too many cigarettes, and drank too much coffee and soda. Those were all common traits of the people working there. For all I know he may still be working there.

Like agricultural work, this was seasonal, but instead of fruits or vegetables, we picked pockets. Getting another job during the "off season" was not easy because the IRS paid better than other employers, and any other place didn't want to hire somebody only to have them leave a few months later to go back to their government job.

Over the years I worked different shifts: 6:00pm to 10:00pm, 5:00pm to 1:30am, 8:00am to 4:30pm, and 3:15pm to 11:45pm. That last shift was based on the availability of computing power. We updated records online, but those same computers were used for batch processing from 6:30pm to 6:30am, when our day shift counterparts began their workday. The second shift input data for the first few hours then prepared paperwork for the next day's input. That shift started when most day shifts still had another seventy-five minutes. People on that second shift were an unkempt bunch, many arriving in t-shirts, cut-offs, and sandals after spending the early afternoon at the lake. People on the day shift would always look askance at us.

Many there were particular about their work area, like the character of Milton in the movie Office Space. One morning during a season on the day shift, I overheard somebody complaining that her adding machine was moved by the night shift worker who used that desk. The adding machine was not on the other side of the desk; it was a few inches from its usual location.

"In this world nothing is certain but death and taxes."
Benjamin Franklin

Everyone submits tax forms. Back then there was no electronic filing. The Austin center processed the paper forms from everyone in a five state area; Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas, Arkansas, and Louisiana. Strange information was noticed simply because it was strange and we needed relief from the tedium. Someone listed a dependent who was named LaTrina. An exotic dancer included in her itemized deductions the employee business expenses of snakes and mice to feed them.

People who worked there did all sorts of things to keep themselves amused. Two of my coworkers on the night shift would sing slave songs while they worked. I would try to identify the tunes playing on the Muzak.

In the job I had on the shift that started at 3:15pm, we were allowed to phone people if there was some question that might be cleared up easily. Those people were often surprised a government employee was working that late. We usually explained that ours was not the usual 9-to-5 shift. When I contacted one woman about a tax return that had a number of mistakes, she confided to me that their accountant had been fired for going out to his car to drink during his workday (like some of my coworkers). During another phone call, I heard someone in the background, presumably the young man's mother, ask who that was on the phone. When he told her it was the IRS, she said, "IRS don't call you on the phone. IRS write you a letter."

Yes, the IRS writes many letters. For one of my jobs there were two three-inch binders filled with form letters. You would put in the code number for the letter and data to fill in the blanks. Some people would distill all the possible form letters down to a few choices, writing the needed information on some 3x5 index cards. That may be why people get letters from the IRS that seem to make no sense.

I learned that if you wanted to get some thorny problem resolved in that big bureaucracy, you went to someone who'd worked there for years. That person would phone a friend in some other department, check on the current procedure, then get the paper shuffled off in the right direction. We didn't have a system of pneumatic tubes or Fresnel lenses in front of our computer terminals, but in many other ways that place resembled the government offices in Terry Gilliam's movie Brazil.

One job involved reconciling information on tax forms with the data entered into the computers from those forms. The resolution might be a code indicating the computer's numbers were correct, thus generating a form letter notifying the person of an error on their tax return. In other cases it was an error in the data entry. We would sign out a box of forms and the computer printout for them, mark them up, then sign them back in. This was an iterative process. If things didn't match the next time through, we'd get the forms back with a new printout. We could see on the checkout sheet who'd worked on those forms earlier. Everyone avoided anything previously touched by a certain coworker. I found out that when the job function was first created, managers were told that people with high ratings would be transferred into the new department. She had received very high ratings not because her work was good, but because it was so poor that her manager wanted to get rid of her. For all I know she may still be working there.

Working for the IRS was impetus for me to go back to college and get a degree. I feared my brain would turn into tapioca if I continued to shuffle papers for the government. In the end, that was the best thing about working there.

Opening Remarks

2006-04-10T12:11:00.000-07:00

Welcome to my blog. Just what this world needs, another blog. Well, I plan to use this as a means of expression and reflection. The pessimistic view, quite popular with many, is that an individual has no effect on the general state of things. A more responsible view is that the actions of each of us have their effect, no matter how small they may seem. The initial intention is for this blog to be a journal of my ruminations. These musings may lend my thoughts and feelings more clarity. Others may find them useful, if only for entertainment purposes.