"You Went To Bed With Your Darkest Mind"

It's been a pretty good break so far. Thursday, Wendy, Tim, and I went to a little French restaurant downtown for dinner. I had lobster bisque, some sort of salmon thing stuffed with crabmeat, lobster, and crawfish, and a thing called a chocolate molten (chocolate brownie thing filled with warm liquid chocolate). It was a great meal, but for as much as it cost, it should've been.

Wendy somehow convinced me to go shopping with her, Meg, and Michelle at Potomac Mills yesterday. Now, I usually make it a habit to not go shopping the day after Thanksgiving. Sure, you find great bargains, but all the stupid people you have to contend with usually counterbalances any benefits. Anyway, we really lucked out: found a great parking spot, managed to avoid most of the really stupid people by the utilization of a "don't bother me you idiot" field, and actually found some pretty spiffy stuff. Now, the funny thing is, most of the things we bought were not for Christmas presents. Wen found some shelf things at IKEA to store videos in, I found a TV stand for my room at the same, a suit jacket (regularly like $300, on sale for $40. How could I have passed that up?), and some flannel sheets. Admittedly, I've only got three or four people left to shop for and payday is next week, but part of me felt a little guilty for shopping for myself. Then Wendy reminded me that all the stuff I was getting was stuff no one else would've got for me, so that was okay.

After getting my TV stand, though, I came home and decided to rearrange my bedroom. I shifted several things over in the room so that the bed isn't right next to the window, moved the nightstand that the TV was on to between the bed and the window, and put the TV and various other stuff on the TV stand. Looks like it'll work out real well, actually. Besides, the TV stand was only $15.

Anyway, I'm off to do laundry and write lesson plans for the coming week or two. Wee.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Marshall Tucker Band, "Fire on the Mountain"

"When The Devil Came, He Was Not Red"

Ah, the final day before Thanksgiving. It's only a half day here at the school, which I've no complaints about. I think I'm going to help Wen do some painting at her school after class lets out this afternoon.

Had a long chat with the director of the school yesterday. Basically she asked me if I was still even interested in teaching, given that I've seemed less than enthusiastic lately. And while it was a valid question, I'm still a little hurt by the way she phrased it. There were probably several better ways for her to have phrased the question. I mean, she could have just asked if I thought I was doing okay or if there was anything she could do to help make my job easier or less frustrating. You'd think a woman who is concerned with making sure we treat these kids with respect and don't bruise their fragile egos would be more tactful, but that's surely beside the point.

Honestly, her question was valid. I've been struggling with a couple of my classes and feeling rather disengaged. I'm trying to get back into the swing of things, and the reintegrated English 8 class has gone a long way to lowering my frustration level. We'll just have to see how it goes from here.

Well, duty calls, and it looks like the bitch is calling collect.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Eric Clapton, "The Core"

Wilco - Kicking Television - Live in Chicago

Wilco's recent albums have pushed boundaries and challenged their listeners, but they've moved away from the raw energy of their earlier releases. This isn't to say they haven't been great albums, simply that the band has focused on creating a mood and a powerful style rather than on rocking out. Kicking Television changes that.

First and foremost, you'll notice that the mannered, measured style of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and A Ghost is Born has been exchanged for energy and unfettered enthusiasm. Listen to the crescendo at the end of the album opener, "Misunderstood," with the band pounding on their instruments as Jeff Tweedy screams the word "nothing" over and over again. Guitars are looser, Tweedy's vocals are more raw, and the band is so in-tune with one another than even missed notes feel like they are a necessary part of the greater plan.

The best thing about Kicking Television is that Wilco doesn't simply trot out the their best-known tunes and play them exactly the same as they appear on the album. They alter each song just enough to make the songs fresh, new, and somehow familiar and comfortable. Take the organ in "Hell is Chrome," or the Neil Young-like guitar solo in "The Late Greats." The violin part from "Jesus, Etc." is played by a pedal steel guitar to great effect.

Song selection is fantastic on this album. Virtually all of the songs come from Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and Ghost, with a couple from SummerTeeth, "Misunderstood" from Being There, and a pair of Mermaid Avenue tunes, "One by One" and "Airline to Heaven." The album ebbs and flows well, switching gears from up-tempo to slow and meditative without any stumbles.

Really, this album stands as a testament to the band's power as a live act. Song selection is excellent, the band is on fire throughout, and the audience responds accordingly. This record casts Wilco's songs in a new light, the band reinventing the tunes to exceptional effect. This album is a must have for any Wilco fan.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Wilco, "Shot in the Arm (Live)"

"Where Are You Tonight Sweet Marie?"

Busy, busy week behind me. My English 8 class got reintegrated into the other class on Thursday, mostly as a result of me finally losing my temper with the little bastards on Wednesday and spending a good ten minutes chewing the kids out. That day made me feel like a complete failure, mostly because the kids finally made me lose my cool. It probably didn't help that, in the middle of my tirade about how their behavior made it impossible for me to teach them, they started bickering and fighting again and I just lost it and yelled at them and sent them to the dean's office.

But the reintegration has helped. The kids are better behaved, in part because there are other kids for them to interact with and the two who do not like one another don't have to deal with each other. It's made the rest of my school day that much easier to deal with, too.

Wen, Tim, and I went to see Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire last night. It was a good film, though I could have waited to see it (opening night + small children = a somewhat annoying movie experience, but at least there weren't too many little little kids). My biggest complaint is that the plot seems so streamlined. I understand why they have to do it (it's tough to cram 800 pages into a 2 1/2 hour film), and why each film has cut more and more of the extraneous subplots away (each book has been longer than the last, of course), but it's hard not to wish for some of the side stuff--like the whole thing with Rita Skeeter being an illegal animagus (yeah yeah, spoiler spoiler, but the book's several years old and well past the statute of limitations at this point, I'm sure) or any of a dozen other little things that the books have that the movies don't--because the film seems a little unbalanced because of it. It's rather like Lucas's Star Wars Prequels: they're real heavy on plot, everything has to happen in rapid succession, and there's less time for character development because you spend all your time telling the core story. It's the side stories that add the extra details, the quirks of character that take someone from being a two-dimensional cookie-cutter hero to being a fully-actualized human being. Admittedly, this is also just part of the problem with adapting a movie from a book, but it's hard not to wish that you could see more of Harry than just "reluctant hero" or more of Ron than just "mopey putz," etc.

I also managed to get a haircut this week. Admittedly, Wendy cut it for me, so it was free, and it's not the most perfect haircut ever, but it's serviceable and my hair is shorter and I don't look like a complete moe.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: George Harrison, "Absolutely Sweet Marie (Live)"

"He's Here To Rectify"

So I decided the other day that the automobile industry has finally just started picking words completely at random for car names when I saw an SUV by Isuhzu called an Axiom.

That's right, Axiom. The thing that's like a postulate. I expect to see the Toyota Aphorism or the Nissan Philosophical Concept anyday now.

I got a lot of my Christmas shopping done yesterday. As far as family members are concerned; I just need to find something for dad. And find stuff for my friends. But I've got presents for mom, Scott, and Clyde already.

I also picked up Wilco's Kicking Television yesterday, and it makes me happy in ways I can't share in polite company.

Okay, back to work, I guess. School calls.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Wilco, "Wishful Thinking (Live)"

"Jokers To The Right"

Despite the fact that it's been a "short" week (what with having no students on Monday and Tuesday...but still had to work, what with workshops and doing grades and stuff), it's been a terribly trying week. I can't really explain what's been so bad about it, aside from waking up late for work Wednesday and Thursday, having a terrible time with students' behavior in my English class, and getting a bit of a dressing down from the director and my supervising history teacher about my teaching methods (less lecture, more activities so the kids are actively learning). It's just been...rough.

Part of it is just run-down batteries. I feel totally drained, and I keep feeling like I'm screwing everything up with the teaching. Some of my classes frustrate me, some of them I don't feel like I'm doing anything effective, and I'm just worried that I'm failing in my responsibilities as a teacher.

I basically need to spend the entire weekend reevaluating everything I understand about teaching and learning. Part of my problem, of course, is that I keep trying to teach them the same way that I learn information, and that just doesn't work. The other is that I really don't have any formal training in education. I'm having to pick it up as I go along.

I still think I can be a successful teacher, it's just going to be more challenging than I thought it would. I can't just lecture and make them read the book; I can't just sit up there and hope they soak up the information from listening to me cover the material over and over. It's going to take something different, and that's going to require creativity of a sort I'm not used to.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Led Zeppelin, "Bron-Y-Aur Stomp"

Jackson Browne - Solo Acoustic, Volume 1

If the Volume 1 in the title of this album is indicative of future installments, I will be a very happy camper indeed. Jackson Browne mixes a little of the obvious with a little of the obscure to create a magnificent live recording.

All of the songs are either Browne alone on an acoustic guitar or on a piano. Browne is in fine voice throughout, his mellow vocals as fine as you could ask for. The stories he tells about songs and in between songs are hit and miss, though, sometimes providing interesting details into a song's history and sometimes just seeming irrelevant (honestly, do we really need to hear about his efforts to collect all the different translations of "Take it Easy"? Not really). Perhaps the most amusing anecdote is the one about an audience member asking him to play "Peaceful, Easy Feeling," a song he really had nothing to do with (but write one song that the Eagles make their own, and someone assumes you're connected to all of their tunes, I guess). The intros and stories are interesting to hear, but not something you really need to hear every single time. Thankfully, the album is sequenced in a way that allows you to skip the between-song chatter and jump right to the beginning of the songs themselves.

There's lots to love here. The song selection is, as mentioned, excellent: there are plenty of familiar fan favorites ("The Pretender," "Barricade of Heaven," "Take it Easy," "These Days") and some less familiar tunes (the never-before-released "Too Many Angels," "The Birds of St. Marks," and "For a Dancer" spring to mind) that are still just as good as the Browne tunes you'd hear on the radio. Browne makes each song engaging and worthwhile, and there's enough variation to keep the proceedings interesting.

My favorite part of the CD is "Take it Easy." I've wanted to hear Browne do the tune for years, since I've only ever heard the Eagles play it. Hearing him play it, you can tell it's a tune he wrote, something I'd never really picked up from listening to the Eagles' version. There's a hint of melancholy running through the song, just as with most Browne songs, and it gives the song a very interesting twist.

Ultimately, this is a fantastic set for anyone who loves Browne's work. It's probably not the best place to be introduced to his body of work, but for anyone already familiar with Browne, it's a great collection with more depth than your typical best of or live set.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Jackson Browne, "The Pretender (Live)"

"Like A Blister In The Sun"

Spent my Sunday helping out with Wendy's set building up at the high school. We made some good headway, but the day was not without its casualties.



Yeah, word of advice: if you strip the head of a screw and decide to try to remove said screw--which has been under considerable strain and friction, mind you--don't try to remove the screw with your bare hands. For the love of God, don't try to remove it with your bare hands. I'm not going to be able to play the guitar for days, which oddly enough is the part about the whole experience that annoys me most.

Anyway, off for bed. Have to wake up in a few hours and head into work, even though the students are off. I tell ya, I miss being a student and getting the holidays off.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Jackson Browne, "Take it Easy (Live)"

"A NIght At The Opera"

Spent a good part of the weekend attending plays. Friday night, Wendy, Tim, and I went to DC to see a friend of ours from the church choir in The Mikado, a Gilbert & Sullivan opera that was pretty damn impressive. Musically, you really couldn't beat it; our one complaint was that the director decided to "augment" the original script with some jokes about current US politics. As a result, several moments were like a musical version of Jay Leno. The real problem was that the contemporary jokes didn't gel well with the stuff Gilbert and Sullivan wrote, so they fell kinda flat. Honestly, it wasn't necessary to bring those in. But overall, the play was quite entertaining, especially since it only cost us ten bucks apiece (which is about what you'd pay for a movie anymore, so it was a pretty good deal).

We almost didn't get to see the play, though. When I went online to look up directions to the place, I used the address from a little e-flyer that Felicity (the friend we were there to see) sent me. Unfortunately, the address on there was for an office the group putting on the show had, so we were on the wrong side of the city. What's more, I paid $15 for parking at this wrong location. Luckily, we ran into some good fortune: a girl who worked in the office next door to where we went looked up the correct address for us, and the guys in the parking garage refunded us our total fee. We ended up missing the first 20 minutes or so of the play, but we were still able to follow what was happening.

Saturday afternoon, I wandered around DC (again) with Michelle and a couple of her friends. We mostly went up there to visit the Corcoran Museum to see the big Andy Warhol exhibit they had going. My string of bizarrely good luck held true: we got in for free because it was family weekend. We ended up making a small donation anyway, though, just for the sake of it. The exhibit was interesting, though I'm still not entirely convinced that I really care much for Warhol's work. I think he was mostly just a bullshit artist, pulling different stunts and trying different weird things to see how long it would be before someone just said, "Okay, enough is enough, that's just absurd," and no one ever got around to calling him on it. I won't deny his impact on art or popular culture, because to do so would be rather stupid, but I don't necessarily care for most of his stuff and I don't really fully understand most of it. If taking a couple of Polaroids of knives sitting on a white countertop is art, then let me go buy film for my old Polaroid camera right now.

Saturday night, Wen, Tim, and I went to see a local high school perform a play called Urinetown. We ended up getting into this show for free because of some pass thing Wendy has and because no one stops you when you act like you have every right to be where you are. The show sold out as we were standing in line to get tickets, so instead of leaving with everyone else in line, we marched up, Wendy showed the usher at the door her pass, and we walked right in unhindered. The show itself was interesting for several reasons: the set design and execution was spectacular, the chroreography was top-notch, and the play itself was fairly original and had a couple of nice twists (like the hero dying and the good guys losing in the end, but as the narrator commented a couple of times, "this isn't a nice show"). It was billed as something very edgy, but having seen it, I don't know that it was particularly provacative. Sure, it had a bit of language and some sexually suggestive lines, but the songs were pretty standard musical fare and the play itself was pretty straight forward. Entertaining, most assuredly, but not without flaws (the singers, while good, weren't particularly strong).

Sunday's itenerary is pretty full. We're going to church in the morning and then heading directly to Wendy's school to build on the set. At some point, we'll come back to the apartment and I'll hopefully wash the rest of my laundry and call my grandmother to wish her a happy birthday.

So yeah, full weekend. Monday is a teacher workday at school, so I'll be doing a few parent-teacher conferences and getting my grades figured out (and a lot of other administrative paperwork-type things). Tuesday is some sort of workshop/conference thing that I really don't want to attend, but I don't really have a choice.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Blue Mountain, "Generic America"

"Six-String Belief"

The school's found someone to help me teach the music class on Thursday afternoons. I'm supposed to call the guy this afternoon before I leave work and arrange to have him come by tomorrow and join us.

Part of me will be glad of the help. I mean, I know how to play the guitar fairly well, but my technical mastery of the instrument is far from perfect. My vocabulary for describing what to do is not totally adequate. So having an extra person who probably has a different understanding of how the guitar works is good.

Really, when you get right down to it, my understanding of the guitar is much like my understanding of the English language and grammar and my understanding of art and drawing. I do these things intuitively, as a result of repetition and an instinctive understanding that I need to draw this line to achieve the desired effect, or use that phrase to express what I'm looking for, or put the words in this order for them to make sense. I understand how things ought to be, ought to look, or ought to sound, but I'll be damned if I can explain the why of it.

Which is rather ironic, when I think about it, because I've always thought the most important question to ask about anything was "why." I always want to know why. It's the reason I've never understood math: they could tell me that using this formula or equation would give me the right answer, but they could never tell me why that worked.

Anyway, the whole point is that maybe this guy will approach the guitar in a very different manner, perhaps one which is more methodical and less...well, loose, I guess. And extra help can't hurt, really. There are four or five kids in there already, and it's tough for me to address each one individually, especially since a couple of them are going to be playing different instruments (drums, keyboards, etc.). Guess we'll see how it goes after tomorrow.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Placebo, "Pure Morning"

"Baby You Can Drive My Car"

So I spent most of my weekend trying to fix my car. This was not how I'd originally planned to spend my weekend, but car repairs are the sort of thing that just pop up whenever they want to, regardless of your prior plans. They're like pop quizes or your in-laws, really.

See, I went to a party with Michelle Friday night, and after dropping her off, the battery light in my car came on. This was pretty disconcerting, I have to tell you, but at least it waited until after I'd driven to Fredericksburg and back to do this. Anyway, I got up sometime around noon Saturday (hey, I was out until around 5.00 am, I felt I deserved at least a few hours of sleep) and took my car to the local GMC dealer, explaining what had happened and asking for assistance. Sadly, the guy said they were all booked up, and I should try the Chevy place up the street (they're all GM vehicles, anyway, so it really doesn't matter one way or the other). Unfortunately for me, the Chevy place was already closed by the time I got up there.

"No problem," I say to myself, "I'll just find the nearest Autozone and have them test the battery. If that's the problem, I'm sure we can get it fixed easily."

Well, after searching around, I discovered the nearest Autozone was clear over in Manassas, about 20 miles away. Undaunted, I drove to Manassas. I actually made it as far as the parking lot of the place before the car gave out, which would be the last bit of good luck I'd have this weekend.

The folks at Autozone tested my battery and told me it was deader than a doornail and stood no chance of resurrection, so I purchased a new one, they popped it in, and I drove off, thinking I'd defeated my problem with aplomb.

Oh, how naive I was.

See, I noticed as I was getting ready to leave that the battery light was still on, so I went back in to mention this. "Oh, no problem," said the woman who'd replaced my battery, "the system just takes awhile to reset sometimes, that's all." So off I go, traipsing around Fairfax to run a couple of errands and go help Wendy with her students' one acts again (as I'd done before Friday night's party). My car made it back to the apartment afterwards, but just barely. The battery, despite being brand new, was not holding a charge. "Crap," I think to myself, "this is almost exactly like when the alternator went out in the Sunfire a few years ago."

So I decide this morning to head to Autozone again to see about getting a new alternator. Tim agrees to follow me out there in case I need a jump. We get about five miles down the road and the car dies. So Tim pulls up beside me and gives me a jump (after some annoying rearranging...I swear to high holy Heaven, it was so much more difficult getting the cars in position to jump than it should have been. I won't even recount the problems I had with car keys and the removing said keys from the ignition. Be content, gentle reader, in the knowledge that many curse words were cursed, many oaths were sworn to hunt down whatever genius decided cars ought to be more electronic than mechanical, and my keys ultimately stayed in the dead car in the lonely parking lot while Tim and I continued on our quest for an alternator). Sadly, jumping the car proved fruitless, as the car would die as soon as we took off the jumper cables. "Let's just go on to Autozone, grab the alternator, and come back and put it in. It can't be that hard, right?" I say to Tim. "Yeah, we can do that," Tim says, and off we go to Manassas, none the wiser of just what asses we were about to make of ourselves.

A trip to Manasssas and $220 later, we head back to my car, new alternator in hand. We know we need to loosen the tensor arm so we can slip the belt off the old alternator and unbolt it and install the new one.

We couldn't loosen the belt. We couldn't figure out how to get the tensor arm to move, so we sat there, fiddling with crap that we didn't really understand, until Tim hit upon the brilliant idea of going and getting his dad.

"This thing has proven we are not true men, Tim," I said, my head bowed in defeat.

"Yeah," he agreed, "there's clearly a gap in our knowledge base" (okay, that's not how he said it, but that was the gist. Go with the narrative flow here, okay?)?

Anyway, it's getting on near dark by this point, and Tim goes off to get his dad while I stay with the car. Tim and his father finally return about an hour and a half or so after he left, and it's pitch dark by this point. Tim's father breaks out a prybar and goes after the tensor arm, finally shifting it and getting the damn belt off the alternator. It took less than thirty minutes to unbolt the old alternator and bolt on the new one after that, and all told about one hour of actual work was all it took to get the new alternator in place, the jumper cables attached, the car juiced back up, and my car to be running the way it's supposed to.

Yes, today my masculinity was put to the test. I failed. Miserably.

I hope they don't revoke my penis.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Led Zeppelin, "Trampled Under Foot"

"I've Got A Couple Of Chords And A Lyrical Stance"

I am so ready to just throttle a couple of my students who think that arguing with everything just for the sake of arguing with everything is okay. I'm about to lose what little temper I have, because it's the same students and the same battles every single day, several times a day.

What really irks me is a particular student who only wants to accept the rights and privileges of being 17 without any of the corresponding responsibility. He only plays the "I'm an adult" card when it benefits him, not when he has to take responsibility for his actions or decisions. It's all I can do to just reach over and smack the kid upside the head.

The rest of the day is given over to a Halloween party. Starting with lunch, we're just giving over the day to games, food, and pumpkin carving. Should be an interesting afternoon.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Blue Mountain, "Bloody 98"

My Morning Jacket - Z

I've said I try not to make it a habit of buying albums by bands I've never listened to. I've mentioned how it's dangerous and doesn't often yield positive results. Yet I persist in buying albums randomly through recommendations by trusted reviewers or just hearing them compared to bands I really like.

So when I heard that My Morning Jacket was something of a cross between Wilco and the Flaming Lips, I felt they deserved my attention. Damn, am I glad I took a chance on these guys.

Z is simply one of the best albums I've listened to in quite awhile, and I've listened to some damn good albums in the past year. It's a brilliant mix of Americana, psychadelia, jangly guitars, aching vocals, and Beach Boys harmonies. The band melds genres in much the same way the Flaming Lips do; the best way to describe the band, in fact, is as a more radio-friendly version of the Lips. The easiest parallel between the two bands is in the vocals: both bands feature Neil Young-ish vocalists who croon semi-cryptic lyrics about love, loss, and zoos.

Musically, the album follows plenty of interesting detours, chasing after whatever whimsical muse caught the band's fancy. "Lay Low" is a fantastic, thumping song that lifts you up on its beautiful synth and guitar figures and carries you into the powerful jam that doubles the length of the song with spidery guitar lines. "Wordless Chorus" has just that: a chorus of soaring "Ahhh"s in the refrain that sets the tone and mood of the rest of the album. This is a record full of somber yet positive music, full of instruments that meander and twine around one another, creating layers of sound and a sonic palette that's exceptionally satisfying. "Off the Record" is a reggae-tinged rave-up, a jouyous and raucous four minutes that have you tapping your toes and humming along whether you want to or not.

This is a very cohesive album, a record that feels whole and complete in and of itself. It successfully synthesizes different sounds and styles into a single, unified direction. There's a sense of purpose to this music, and it ties everything together regardless of how odd or unusual the musical turns may be. I highly recommend this album to everyone. You owe it to yourself to hear this music.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: My Morning Jacket, "Lay Low"

Minus 5 - At The Organ

It's really hard not to wish At the Organ, an EP by the Minus 5, was longer. Much longer. Like a full-length LP. Sadly, this is not the case, but the seven songs on the CD are fantastic.

Two of the songs are alternate versions of tracks off of the Minus 5's fantastic Down with Wilco release: "The Days of Wine and Booze" and "The Town that Lost its Groove Supply." Everything else is unique to this disc, and it's a pity that the band couldn't give you a few more tracks and make a full album out of it.

That complaint aside, what we do have is uniformly excellent. "Lyrical Stance" is a punky romp, deceptively simple and more fun than it has any right to be. "Hotel Senator" and "Formerly Hail Centurion" make absolutely no sense, but are fun and clever nonetheless. "Film of the Movie" is a wonderful pot shot at Hollywood's tendency to remake every single damn movie ever released. The strangest track is the closer, "One More Bottle to Go," and of which the liner notes ask "Is it even music?" The answer is a definite "yes," and very entertaining music at that. The Minus 5 pull their usual trick: an eclectic mix of Beach Boys harmonies and modular music, chiming guitars, oddball instruments (though oddly enough, there are no organs evident on the recording, despite the title), and surreal lyrics.

Ultimately, if you like the Minus 5, this will be a no-brainer for you. If you're not sure about the band, this probably isn't the place to start.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Minus 5, "Formerly Hail Centurion"

"Steady Crushing Hand"

The Music Club at school met this afternoon. I only had two kids there--a brother and a sister--but they were making good effort, so I didn't mind that so few showed up. I knew one other kid wouldn't be there, and the other two (another who wants to learn guitar and our drummer) sorta just forgot, I guess. Overall, I have a good feeling about the whole situation, really. I think that if the kids actually keep trying and practicing everyday, they'll be decent pretty quick.

As anyone who has visited the Dim Bulb site lately probably knows, I've been struggling with creativity lately. I just...don't feel all that inspired. I hate the notion of taking a break/hiatus, because I know how I am: if I take a break, I end up just not going back to it. It's what happened with running, and God knows when the last time I was able to go on a long jog was.

The best I can do, then, is just push through, try to get back to where I'm happy with what I'm doing. I have a couple of ideas for what to do next with the comic, but I just wish I was feeling the groove better.

Talked with my niece (well, cousin's daughter, but "niece" isn't as unwieldy) this afternoon. Had a good conversation, considering the fact that she's been sick and she's only three. She actually willing took the phone and chatted this afternoon, which is a very positive move in the direction we've been wanting.

Conversations with my mother have not gone as well. Not that she's been chewing me out about things; she and dad apparently had a conversation about money yesterday evening. Y'know, one of those prelude to divorce conversations that have to occur so they can divy everything up and figure out how much she gets and how much he gets. My father, weird as it sounds, apparently thinks that since he's done all the work, he owes mom no money. Y'know, totally ignoring her raising three children, shuttling them all over the place, doing the laundry and the dishes, cooking meals, shopping for clothes and food and everything in between, planning and organizing everything from vacations to the monthly bills...my father wasn't even aware that we had a pharmacy bill every month. He's completely oblivious, essentially, to what mom's spent the past nearly 30 years doing for him. He just doesn't get it. It's pretty upsetting, to say the least. Mom was not looking forward to the conversation when I talked with her early yesterday afternoon. Of course, a big part of it simply depends on which version of my father showed up. If it was my father the way he's been acting the past few months, then she probably had no chance. But if it was my real father, she might've been able to talk some sense into the man. Either way, I feel bad that she even had to go through this whole thing.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Wilco, "Kicking Television (Live)"

"Staring At The Sun"

Spent the afternoon at the Rennaisance Festival with Wen, Tim, and a girl from the church choir, Felicity. We had a good time, really: watched a "German" juggler do some pretty cool stuff, saw a guy doing some glass blowing, and wandered around checking out the nifty shops that sold everything from fairy wings to swords to corsets. At some point, Wendy and Tim disappeared, and Felicity and I stood in line for free beer quoting Monty Python and the Holy Grail and giggling.

So it was a fun afternoon, though I've got a bit of a post-beer headache (not that I drank enough to get a hangover, mind you; it's just that if I have a couple of beers, I tend to get a headache. It's one of those things). Also managed to buy gas in Manassas for $2.49 this evening, which is about as cheap as it's been since I moved to the area three months ago (God, it's already been three months?). Then I came home and Wendy made me an excellent omlette.

I talked with dad for awhile this evening, and we're setting up tentative plans for him to come visit at the beginning of December. I also need to get my plane ticket for my trip home for Christmas, which is going to put a major dent in my funds. Speaking of, I think I might have accidentally overdrafted on my Arvest account this week. I didn't mean to, I just forgot that I'd spent most of what was in there on car stuff on Monday. So I should probably call the bank tomorrow and find out, then have them transfer some money from savings to checking so I don't have anymore problems.

In other news, I turned on the comment word verification thing in an effort to combat spam. Also turned it on over at the Dim Bulb rantspace blog. I want folks to be able to comment on stuff, even anonymously, but the spam was annoying the hell out of me. This should fix that. If not, I'll hunt down the spammers and destroy them using my mind powers.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Charlie Sexton, "Gospel"

"Welcome To The Stage Of History"

Spent most of the day helping Wen with Wizard of Oz rehersal. She's already got the first act blocked, and the kids did pretty well considering it's still early in the process. I'm really looking forward to seeing what she's able to do with it as things progress.

After rehersals, Wen and I went to Borders for their Educator Appreciation weekend. Anyone who is an educator or retired educator can get 25% off any purchase all weekend. Granted, I didn't have any way to prove my current employment (having left my paycheck stub at home and not having any sort of ID or badge from Accotink, since apparently they don't go in for for that sort of stuff), but I bought a couple of books that could be useful anyway: the complete works of Edgar A. Poe and Joseph Campbell's The Hero with 1000 Faces. Wen managed to grab about $100 worth of plays, monologues, and the like, and that was with her discount.

One thing I noticed while we were at Borders, though. It's something that'd nagged at the back of my mind since my days at Ozarks, but it was really put in sharp focus today. While browsing through the history books in an effort to find something for my classes, I wandered through both the Eurpoean and American history sections. I know I'm not teaching any classes on world history or anything right now, but I still like to dig through the books and see if there's anything interesting (saw a couple of British history books I was sorely tempted to pick up, but didn't). While I perused the American history books, I noticed a couple of trends: first, that most American history books deal with wars. We're fascinated with wars, whether the Revolution, the Civil War, or especially World War II. Second, we glorify war in a rather frightening manner. The words "glory" and "honor" popped up in entirely too many titles. We almost revel in the gory details, nearly deify battle and death and destruction. It's disturbing, really, the point to which we glorify war and the extent to which we obsess over it in our history. Yes, much of our history has been shaped by war. That's undeniable, in the same way that the English language's diversity and flexibility was undeniably shaped by Britian's conquest by various peoples and groups over the centuries. But to idolize warfare the way we do...it's unhealthy and creates a distorted impression of what war is actually like. American historians (especially such popular "historians" as Stephen "never had an original thought or book" Amrbose) seem to think that all the guys fighting for America over the years have been these idealogues who were always fighting for Truth, Justice, Freedom, and The American Way.

And while I'm not discounting the possibility that some people of that nature did fight for America--it would be foolish to deny their existence--presenting this as the general character of our armies as a whole is ridiculous. The Founding Fathers may have been attempting to create a better life and a country where all citizens could pursue life, liberty, and happiness as they saw fit, but they were also greedy bastards who didn't want to pay Britain's steep taxes (even though those taxes were levied to pay for a war that had been fought to protect the colonists). Folks in the Civil War may have been fighting over whether or not a state ought to have more power than the federal government and vice-versa, or even over the issue of the morality of slavery, but they were also fighting because they just couldn't get along and were spoiling for a good fight.

Part of the problem, I think, is that America has viewed war as the path we took to becoming the world's only remaining superpower. And this is, to a great extent, true: our involvement in the two World Wars established us as the new Britain, the new Rome, and we took to the role after the Second World War as though it were our birthright. Warfare was our path to greatness. Once there, we assumed the only way to remain at the top of the heap was through the occasional flexing of the military muscle (okay, so maybe "occasional" is a bit facetious), as all major world powers from Athens on down had seen fit to do.

Ultimately, this is why I really do not like American history: the focus is so heavily on warfare, and that focus is always in terms which are much too positive. "Look at war," American history books say. "Look at America in war. We are glorious, we are mighty, we are here because we fought bravely, and our bravery makes us morally good." We do not fight because we are right, we are right because we fight. This seems to be the dominant view of America's involvement in war. It's unsettling, really, but this mentality has existed for as long as America has. The notion that we are a nation destined (destined to be great, destined to grow--i.e., "Manifest Destiny"--destined to rule) is one intimately tied up the creation and evolution of our country and our ideals. All men may be created equal, but not all countries are created equal. Some are, apparently, better than others. We sought "a more perfect union," and we believe we have found it here. In many ways, America is still stuck in the old Enlightenment ideal of continual progress: we are always improving things, always moving forward, getting closer to some idealized utopia that can be attained if we just keep going.

But you can't progress indefinitely. History moves in cycles, not straight lines. The wheel turns, things reach a peak and then decline. It's natural for this to happen. We can't possibly remain the biggest kid on the block. Babylon couldn't do it. Athens couldn't manage it. Rome fell. Spain rose and slid into weakness. Britain had an empire upon which the sun never set, and now they are essentially limited to a few tiny islands off the coast of Europe. It's only been fifty or sixty years since they were still an empire. The downswing can come quickly.

America must learn the lessons of history. War is not a glorious thing. It's brutal, it's vicious. It is sometimes necessary, but it is not something to be celebrated or rejoiced in. To slip into cliches for a moment, those who live by the sword do eventually die by it, and those who do not learn from the past are doomed to repeat it. Unless we as a country and as a society understand that we cannot continue behaving the way we do, one day we'll wake up to find the Vandals and the Visigoths at our doorstep, the Empire revolting all over, and the people incapable of doing anything but standing by and watching.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: My Morning Jacket, "Wordless Chorus"

"You Say You Want A Revolution"

So last night was, thankfully, my last night at Huntington. I'd say I'm sad to see the back of the place, but I'd be lying. I really was starting to dislike the very nature of the job, and I'm glad I got out before my feelings started to negatively impact my performance. That wouldn't have been fair to anyone, so this was really for the best.

Additionally, this actually gives me time to plan my classes. I came up with some good ideas for lessons in my English class, stuff that applies to their interests, stuff that applies to what they need to learn for their standardized tests, and stuff that won't be like pulling teeth.

Got a paycheck from the Vienna job today, which was very welcome. I'm always in favor of someone sending me money. Large wads of cash are one of the quickest ways to...um...my wallet.

What, they can't all be gut-busters.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Eric Clapton, "Love Comes to Everyone"

"If Not For You, My Sky Would Fall"

So I lost all the kids I'm tutoring now through Vienna. The first kid's mother decided he didn't really need the tutoring after all back a couple of weeks ago, and the mother of the other two kids decided today that she didn't think they needed it, either (or that the one who did need help didn't need subject tutoring, just a little organizational help every day).

Part of me really doesn't mind, but another part of me is kinda miffed. First, because I'm now not getting paid to tutor those kids. But that's not as much an issue, since I've already emailed them about tutoring someone else who needs writing help (and that will be a major endeavour akin to what I just spent seven years doing at Ozarks and OU).

The bigger issue is that I feel like I've just been discarded after my usefulness ended. I mean, I got those kids organized. I introduced a half dozen strategies for each of them, strategies which they are using to keep organized. I know part of me should feel good, 'cause I did my job correctly: they're organized now, they're staying on top of everything, etc. But a bigger part of me feels like they just took what they needed from me and then did a runner. Feels a bit exploitative, really.

Anyway, I'm not too worried about it. Just with the few hours I did tutor those three kids, I made over $350. The way I figure it, if I can get even two or three hours a week with this stuff, I've got gas paid for, easy.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Barenaked Ladies, "Light Up My Room"

"Lefty He Can't Sing The Blues"

Saw the Wallace and Gromit movie Curse of the Were-Rabbit this evening with Tim and Wen. Funny, funny movie. You have to love a movie that keeps throwing deadpan puns at you the whole time. The fact that it included stuff like a book on monsters written by Claude Viciously and featured a vegetable shop called Harvey's (with a giant carrot for the sign) is just classic. There's also a wonderful Snoopy reference (as the World War I Flying Ace at that) that had me giggling. Tim decided it was definitely a must-buy when it comes to DVD, and I have to say I agree.

It's funny: I've only been awake about 12 hours, and I'm already tired. Doesn't seem like it should be time for that yet.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Pink Floyd, "Run Like Hell"