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Veggie to Alaska!

This is an amusing, yet paradoxically educational, video by Mose Giganticus and The Emotron, two guys who are driving a vegetable-oil-powered bus from New York to Alaska. Made for Mrs. Aderman’s 1st Period Environmental Science Class, school unknown (if you know, please share put out in the comments (there’s only so much sincerity and wholesomeness I can take, you know?)).

A human finger??? Those New York hippies are hardcore!

WHAT did you call me?

Sameer Mishra, spelling bee champ, suffers a moment of cognitive dissonance during a competition. But under those circumstances, wouldn’t we all?

stolen from JordanSays

The Early Bird

Gets to choose the best outfit.

The Munchkin’s preschool is having their annual musical showcase.

I am always early dropping him off to school because I am just anal like that about almost any appointment or obligation. I have yet to drop him off late. And with only three weeks to go, I am pretty confident I will maintain my perfect record. I know I just somehow put that curse out on myself, and it is now echoing through the cosmos, probably coming back to bite me in the ass on the day I need to take him to his SAT’s.

So, there I am being all early and stuff, when I see that there is a sign-up sheet on the little table the teacher has set up outside the door. I pick it up, and it seems that this year the school is being anal as well, for there are actual outfits, costumes if you will, that must be worn to this year’s Musical Extravaganza. I look at the two choices for boys:

White Dress Shirt and Khaki Pants

or

Blue Dress Shirt, Blue Pants and Blue Suspenders

Huh?

Blue Suspenders? I have no idea where you can even purchase blue suspenders around here. I can’t even remember the last time I saw a child, or even a grown man other than Larry King, who just doesn’t count, wearing suspenders.

So of course, I sign up for the relatively easy white shirt and khaki pants.

I watched as some of the moms straggled in to class as I was getting in my car. And all I could think was, you are gonna be the chumps who have to go searching high and low for some suspenders that your kid will most likely never wear again.

Suckers.

The Langley School Music Project

Back in the sepia-toned, bell-bottomed days of the Seventies when this documentary was shot, Langley was a lovely village surrounded by stables and farms, three-quarters of an hour’s leisurely drive outside of Vancouver. Now it is a strip-mall-encircled bedroom community an hour’s infuriatingly tense drive outside of Vancouver with, improbably, stables and farms still interspersed between SUV dealerships.

And this is the Langley School Music Project, a public school initiative by Hans Fenger, a teacher in the system. Just another public school teacher.

In the early 70s, Vancouver musician Hans Fenger decided to get a real job. His girlfriend was pregnant, and he couldn’t raise a family on earnings from club gigs and guitar lessons. He got a teaching certificate and a job in the Langley school district.

Here is some great analysis from The Delete Bin:

The recordings were literally a school project, headed up by music teacher Hans Fenger based in Langely B.C (just up the road from where I’m writing this), and incorporating 60 students who sang and played percussion instruments on songs which included David Bowie’s “Space Oddity”, Paul McCartney & Wings’ “Band on the Run”, the Beach Boys’ “God Only Knows”, and the Eagles’ “Desperado”. The record polarized opinion. Some said that the takes on the songs create a sort of ghostly, otherworldly effect, while others denounced it as sounding amateurish and very “school assembly” in delivery. Perhaps it’s their origin which makes these recordings so compelling. Fenger had this to say about the project and the kids who created it:

“I knew virtually nothing about conventional music education, and didn’t know how to teach singing. Above all, I knew nothing of what children’s music was supposed to be. But the kids had a grasp of what they liked: emotion, drama, and making music as a group. Whether the results were good, bad, in tune or out was no big deal — they had élan. This was not the way music was traditionally taught. But then I never liked conventional ‘children’s music,’ which is condescending and ignores the reality of children’s lives, which can be dark and scary. These children hated ‘cute.’ They cherished songs that evoked loneliness and sadness.”

And now, click on to see (and hear) the kids:
(more…)

The Age of the Not-So-Innocent

You know, I keep reading about how insecure teenagers are about their bodies.  About how fashion models have made them feel as if they fall far short of the beauty high water mark.

Well, you certainly wouldn’t know it to look at this season’s crop of prom dresses.

These little numbers are a far cry from my choices in 19(cough, cough) where I pretty much had Jessica McClintock or miles of taffeta ruffles and nothing much in between. 

Let’s take a look-see at what is hot for Prom Night ’08.  Columns are in, and apparently so is an eyeful of flesh. If these dresses look skimpy in the front, you can be assured there is even less in the back. Mind you, these are dresses specifically made and marketed for the prom, not the go-go dancing or club crawling crowd.

I’m feeling a bit pink

This one reminds me of Jeannie on acid or something.  Maybe it’s just all the pink.  Make it stop.

Classy!

Sure to be voted “Most Likely to Become a Pole Dancer.”

Words fail me on this one

This one just makes me hope that those laces are tied verrrry tightly, or the date might very happily receive a free show.

prom10.jpg

At this point, why not just wear a skirt and a bikini top?  Why bother with the superfluous fabric in the middle?

The Age of Innocence

Because yes, prom night is all about fun and innocence.  Right?

No suprises

And the last piece de resistance is a favorite of mine, which I have dubbed “The Milk? Yeah, it’s For Free.”

Glinda’s Got the Wrong Stuff

This was pretty much me, but with a lot more crabbiness

Yesterday, after battling a 102 fever and various other bodily indignities over the weekend, I was faced with one of the ultimate tests of motherhood.

Could I, after eating approximately three and a half pieces of bread (no crust, please!) over the course of two days, drag myself out of bed and get the Munchkin to school?

The short answer?

No.

The long answer?

When a five year old jumps on your bed and takes the covers off of you, you would have to be comatose to not react in some fashion.  So, I steeled myself to the fact that I needed to get this boy to school.  Not out of some altruistic educational principle, but just to get him out of my hair for the next three hours. 

So I trudged into the kitchen to make him his oatmeal, wishing that I could also partake of some type of sustenance without my stomach protesting in various sorts of ugly ways, and sat at the table watching him eat.

And that was as far as I could go.

There is no tale of internal fortitude that enabled me to get him ready, myself ready, and then drive him to school.  That I dug deep down and found the strength do to what needed to be done for the good of my child. There is no heartwarming fable with a happy ending of how a good mother will always get her child to school, regardless of whatever physical ailments she is suffering from.

You will have to go elsewhere to find that type of tale.  

Over here, there is just the story of a mom with the best of intentions who winds up passed out on the couch while her kid watches Scooby-doo and plays Webkinz.

Good times, my friends.  Good times.

Cry Them a River

May I hand you one of these? You know you need it.

It was the worst experience that I could ever imagine going through as a mother,” said one West Hollywood mom… “Of course I broke down and started crying. I threw up. I had diarrhea. I locked myself in the closet and drank myself into oblivion. I felt like I failed my kid.”

I know that you are thinking to yourself, what the hell caused that type of reaction? Was her child mauled by a wild bear? Maimed in an entirely preventable accident? Or perhaps walking too close to a cliff and fell off, resulting in bodily injury? Did they have a disease which she blames herself for missing the symptoms?

No my friends, it was worse than that.

Much, much worse.

Her child just so happened to be wait-listed for kindergarten.

I know, I know.

Don’t worry.

I’ve got enough hankies for all of you.

icanhaseducashun?

wear i going if my schul shuting

At a certain point, you know, one has to conclude it no longer matters.

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