Over a year ago, a friend of mine invited me to help out with her charter school. If you don't already know it about me: I love the whole academic scene, especially when it comes to kids. So I'd promised her I'd take a day to help out sometime.
Well, she contacted me the other day just to catch up, and she mentioned that she's starting computer classes for one of her schools. (Suddenly there's more than just one!) I asked if this was a good time for me to help out, and she said "yes," especially if I could come that week since the next week is when things really get busy. I could only do a half day; she said that would be fine, but we had a lot to do: train her on things like spreadsheets and RSS and podcasts and advanced features of word processing; design a curriculum for grades K-6; and get some of the library equipment going.
You know what? We did it. We did it all. We were rushed, but we basically demonstrated and outlined everything we needed in 4 hours. It's invigorating to accomplish something like that.
What's even better is the fact that she enjoyed it as much as I did. Turns out she was a bit apprehensive about the classes since she didn't feel particularly adept at computers, and she wasn't looking forward to training with me. But she's a great educator and of course she picked it up well, and we both had a great time. What a rush.
Thanks, Tina!
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Good Conversation
I took a break the other day with a friend and we chatted outside for about an hour, covering everything from business to politics to career choices to tech to fiction to local and world-wide social improvements... everything but religion, though that's been a part of other conversations together.
It's always uplifting to have a good, long conversation with someone close. There's something transcendental about sharing and learning with one another.
It's always uplifting to have a good, long conversation with someone close. There's something transcendental about sharing and learning with one another.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Help, Out of Nowhere
So our Lake Powell trip involved 1 crippled houseboat (with only 1 working motor), 1 ski boat, and 21 people, only 1 of whom really knew how to drive the houseboat and run everything. That's Rob, and he spent the first day shuttling people back and forth from where the houseboat was parked. So of course that's when we got a good Lake Powell storm, one they said they experience only every few years or so. The wind started blowing hard, and it sent a canopy end-over-end on the sandy beach; our little Ellie ran and grabbed it, and then Abel and I took it apart to keep it from going further. I was kind of enjoying the change in weather, not thinking about what else might happen... until I saw the houseboat's back end pulling furiously on the ropes and threatening to rip free and plow into a houseboat on the other side.
Talk about sudden horror! Rob's 17-year-old daughter Ashtyn knows something about boats and we tried the best we could to keep it moored. We turned on our motor (Ashtyn's idea; thank heavens for her) and tried to get it to pull us back. I don't even remember what else we were doing; it was such a blur.
Then suddenly there were about 4 men helping out with the ropes, and coming on board to help get that back line tied tightly. Come to find out later they'd come from across the bay in their ski boat, braving the waves just to give us some assistance. Thanks to them we pulled our back line tight and maybe even pulled the whole boat into position. Besides the back-breaking, wet work, they got us to point the motor the correct way; turns out we had been making things worse by pointing in the wrong direction. Finally, we were set into place as good as possible, and the men left as suddenly as they came.
It took us a day to recover. The storm (combined with our work) pushed the boat up on the shore about 5 feet, and the back end was sitting low in the water. It took some digging and coordinated effort to get it pushed off the beach and into a good position. Things could have turned out much worse.
The next day, the men who helped came over asking for matches. We only had two boxes, and we couldn't afford to part with them.
Ha! I make joke.
---
This event is unlike most of the ones I record here: there was no strong feeling or grand revelation from the experience. There was simply a slow relief that came as the danger gradually subsided. But from time to time, I think back on these strangers' work and I feel a pleasant glow of appreciation. That's a treasure, and I'll always value it.
Talk about sudden horror! Rob's 17-year-old daughter Ashtyn knows something about boats and we tried the best we could to keep it moored. We turned on our motor (Ashtyn's idea; thank heavens for her) and tried to get it to pull us back. I don't even remember what else we were doing; it was such a blur.
Then suddenly there were about 4 men helping out with the ropes, and coming on board to help get that back line tied tightly. Come to find out later they'd come from across the bay in their ski boat, braving the waves just to give us some assistance. Thanks to them we pulled our back line tight and maybe even pulled the whole boat into position. Besides the back-breaking, wet work, they got us to point the motor the correct way; turns out we had been making things worse by pointing in the wrong direction. Finally, we were set into place as good as possible, and the men left as suddenly as they came.
It took us a day to recover. The storm (combined with our work) pushed the boat up on the shore about 5 feet, and the back end was sitting low in the water. It took some digging and coordinated effort to get it pushed off the beach and into a good position. Things could have turned out much worse.
The next day, the men who helped came over asking for matches. We only had two boxes, and we couldn't afford to part with them.
Ha! I make joke.
---
This event is unlike most of the ones I record here: there was no strong feeling or grand revelation from the experience. There was simply a slow relief that came as the danger gradually subsided. But from time to time, I think back on these strangers' work and I feel a pleasant glow of appreciation. That's a treasure, and I'll always value it.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Wakeboarding FTW!
I am now 40 years old. Let's pause for a minute while you pity me.
Yes, it is sad. I now have physical pains that are not healing. More and more often I injure myself such that I have to skip basketball, my favorite sport. I expect to live a long time, so it's going to get more difficult as I do even less strenuous activities. Sad, as I said. Another pause.
---
In last week's trip to Lake Powell, we took some of the older people to try out wakeboarding.
Wakeboarding is something I've always wanted to do but have repeatedly failed at. I believe I successfully water skied on two skis once for a few seconds in my early 20s, but it was choppy and just didn't seem like much fun to endure so much just to stay standing. Wakeboarding seems to allow much more variety with jumping and spinning around... and I hear that it's easier, which is attractive because I sure take a beating trying to get up!
The first to get up was Andreas, a young man who already knows how to do it. After him, Andreas (his Dad) tried a few times but couldn't get up. Then Abel and Karin tried; Karin knows how to waterski already, but she couldn't get up either. Then Emily (another teenager) tried; she'd never done it before, and she wasn't able to either. Tough day for wakeboarding.
I wasn't going to try since I was exhausted (from almost constant work and little sleep), but I figured I'd regret it if I didn't. Of course, I failed a few times, but thanks to Rob and Andreas' pointers, on about the third try I got up! It was fantastic! Sure, being up on the water was fun, though I couldn't wait even 15 seconds before trying something and falling down, and that was the last I got up. But the best part was just accomplishing something that had dogged me for so long. So, in the first immortal words uttered after I got up:
YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!
Yes, it is sad. I now have physical pains that are not healing. More and more often I injure myself such that I have to skip basketball, my favorite sport. I expect to live a long time, so it's going to get more difficult as I do even less strenuous activities. Sad, as I said. Another pause.
---
In last week's trip to Lake Powell, we took some of the older people to try out wakeboarding.
Wakeboarding is something I've always wanted to do but have repeatedly failed at. I believe I successfully water skied on two skis once for a few seconds in my early 20s, but it was choppy and just didn't seem like much fun to endure so much just to stay standing. Wakeboarding seems to allow much more variety with jumping and spinning around... and I hear that it's easier, which is attractive because I sure take a beating trying to get up!
The first to get up was Andreas, a young man who already knows how to do it. After him, Andreas (his Dad) tried a few times but couldn't get up. Then Abel and Karin tried; Karin knows how to waterski already, but she couldn't get up either. Then Emily (another teenager) tried; she'd never done it before, and she wasn't able to either. Tough day for wakeboarding.
I wasn't going to try since I was exhausted (from almost constant work and little sleep), but I figured I'd regret it if I didn't. Of course, I failed a few times, but thanks to Rob and Andreas' pointers, on about the third try I got up! It was fantastic! Sure, being up on the water was fun, though I couldn't wait even 15 seconds before trying something and falling down, and that was the last I got up. But the best part was just accomplishing something that had dogged me for so long. So, in the first immortal words uttered after I got up:
YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!
The Endurance of a Little Boy
We planned a hike to see a "hole in the rock", where the wind has carved out a deep cave that has worn through to the other side, starting an arch. Thomas (4) wanted to go with us, possibly because we were going on the ski boat. Of course I said "yes". I started questioning the wisdom of that almost immediately since he asked to get on my shoulders as soon as we got off the boat and started walking. Luckily, I had water I could use to coax him along. Halfway along, Uncle Bob broke into song, and after we grew tired of that Thomas started singing one he knew. All in all, it was a good hike to the rock.
We enjoyed climbing around and taking pictures in the strange cave. The view was awesome, and it was much cooler than the desert around it. It would be nice to eat a picnic there or spend a night. Alas, we finally had to leave... but Thomas wanted to stay. I stayed with him a minute longer, but we were with a whole group of people so we had to catch up so they wouldn't have to wait on a child being selfish. I insisted it was time to leave, but Thomas wouldn't have it. "I'm staying here!"
"OK," I said, and I left him.
Tolman was concerned; I had to reassure him that I would not leave Thomas in danger. Luckily there is a small hill close to the formation, so I got out of sight and slowed down to wait. Thomas was crying, howling as loud as he could, but soon I could tell that he was coming. I continued my stroll. When he got closer, I asked if he'd like me to wait for him; he only scowled in answer, so we continued with him a dozen paces behind. Later I asked him again and got the same response. Finally he said "yes," so I walked with him.
He complained a bit about the hot sun on his neck, but he didn't give up and break down again. So I pushed it: we were far behind the others so I started jogging and encouraging him along faster. He came along! At one point he hurt his ankle and we walked for a short minute; he complained again about the sun, but he kept going; he drank the last of the water along the way. But we made it, and he stayed a trooper the rest of the time.
It's awesome to watch someone grow up right in front of you.
We enjoyed climbing around and taking pictures in the strange cave. The view was awesome, and it was much cooler than the desert around it. It would be nice to eat a picnic there or spend a night. Alas, we finally had to leave... but Thomas wanted to stay. I stayed with him a minute longer, but we were with a whole group of people so we had to catch up so they wouldn't have to wait on a child being selfish. I insisted it was time to leave, but Thomas wouldn't have it. "I'm staying here!"
"OK," I said, and I left him.
Tolman was concerned; I had to reassure him that I would not leave Thomas in danger. Luckily there is a small hill close to the formation, so I got out of sight and slowed down to wait. Thomas was crying, howling as loud as he could, but soon I could tell that he was coming. I continued my stroll. When he got closer, I asked if he'd like me to wait for him; he only scowled in answer, so we continued with him a dozen paces behind. Later I asked him again and got the same response. Finally he said "yes," so I walked with him.
He complained a bit about the hot sun on his neck, but he didn't give up and break down again. So I pushed it: we were far behind the others so I started jogging and encouraging him along faster. He came along! At one point he hurt his ankle and we walked for a short minute; he complained again about the sun, but he kept going; he drank the last of the water along the way. But we made it, and he stayed a trooper the rest of the time.
It's awesome to watch someone grow up right in front of you.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Recent Funerals
Are funerals sad?
No. We're sad at funerals because their whole purpose is to recognize what we've lost; we also have a hard time as we realize more and more how much we will miss that person in the future. However, funerals themselves are thought-provoking, solemn, and reverent. They bring out the deepest sentiments in everyone involved. They are truly growing experiences that help us learn to cope. In fact, they're exhausting for me because they're so powerfully emotional.
Of course, I hope I don't have to attend another funeral for a while.
The most recent one was where a neighborhood friend has been left alone after the loss of his soul-mate. I think back about her and remember how she was always positive, always happy to see you. And Lynnette and I would bump into them on a date together from time to time, and you could see how they genuinely enjoyed each other's company. I got teary-eyed at that viewing every time I'd think of his life without her. As we waiting in line to see him, I found it remarkable how he seemed so composed; he seemed to be the one comforting everyone else. When we got to him, he told me to cherish Lynnette because I never know when she'll be gone. That's powerful.
Before that one, we went to one for a local family who, in one year, lost 2 daughters to two separate diseases. Again, we could see what a hole was left in that family. That event continues to affect me because I met one of the daughters at a Thanksgiving dinner where she didn't interact much; I assumed she was quiet without much to say. However, I learned at the eulogy that it was because of the disease, and besides hearing it from her family I heard it from some high-school friends I hadn't seen for years; they all talked about how much she contributed when they worked with her. Wow. Talk about having your eyes opened! That meeting was touching because the full emotion of the family came through, especially in song.
Although I hope it's a long time before I have to attend another one, I will jump at the chance to go. There is no other gathering where we fully sense and focus on all the most meaningful parts of life.
No. We're sad at funerals because their whole purpose is to recognize what we've lost; we also have a hard time as we realize more and more how much we will miss that person in the future. However, funerals themselves are thought-provoking, solemn, and reverent. They bring out the deepest sentiments in everyone involved. They are truly growing experiences that help us learn to cope. In fact, they're exhausting for me because they're so powerfully emotional.
Of course, I hope I don't have to attend another funeral for a while.
The most recent one was where a neighborhood friend has been left alone after the loss of his soul-mate. I think back about her and remember how she was always positive, always happy to see you. And Lynnette and I would bump into them on a date together from time to time, and you could see how they genuinely enjoyed each other's company. I got teary-eyed at that viewing every time I'd think of his life without her. As we waiting in line to see him, I found it remarkable how he seemed so composed; he seemed to be the one comforting everyone else. When we got to him, he told me to cherish Lynnette because I never know when she'll be gone. That's powerful.
Before that one, we went to one for a local family who, in one year, lost 2 daughters to two separate diseases. Again, we could see what a hole was left in that family. That event continues to affect me because I met one of the daughters at a Thanksgiving dinner where she didn't interact much; I assumed she was quiet without much to say. However, I learned at the eulogy that it was because of the disease, and besides hearing it from her family I heard it from some high-school friends I hadn't seen for years; they all talked about how much she contributed when they worked with her. Wow. Talk about having your eyes opened! That meeting was touching because the full emotion of the family came through, especially in song.
Although I hope it's a long time before I have to attend another one, I will jump at the chance to go. There is no other gathering where we fully sense and focus on all the most meaningful parts of life.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Admiring a Young Man's Composure
This is Tolman's first day with Cub Scouts. They're going to Cub Country. We set the alarm and woke up early so that I would make sure to get him up in time to go; turns out he was already up and fully dressed in his new scout gear and didn't need breakfast. I remember how I used to get excited like that.
But more than his excitement, I appreciated seeing what came next. I stayed and watched for a minute after dropping him off while the leader talked to the boys about a few rules. First, she asked them to pick a buddy. She didn't notice one boy's choice and assigned him to someone; immediately he put his head down in his arms and would not talk with her. Someone else explained the situation and she assigned him to the buddy he wanted, so he finally looked up and answered her questions. In contrast, when she first asked who wanted to pick their buddy, Tolman quickly raised his hand, but I saw the disappointment as the leader let someone else pick first and both of his friends in the group paired up together, leaving him out. What a way to start the day with a dose of rejection! But he stayed calm and let her assign him with someone who he didn't know.
I expect he's going to have a fantastic day. And I have high hopes for this young man's future.
But more than his excitement, I appreciated seeing what came next. I stayed and watched for a minute after dropping him off while the leader talked to the boys about a few rules. First, she asked them to pick a buddy. She didn't notice one boy's choice and assigned him to someone; immediately he put his head down in his arms and would not talk with her. Someone else explained the situation and she assigned him to the buddy he wanted, so he finally looked up and answered her questions. In contrast, when she first asked who wanted to pick their buddy, Tolman quickly raised his hand, but I saw the disappointment as the leader let someone else pick first and both of his friends in the group paired up together, leaving him out. What a way to start the day with a dose of rejection! But he stayed calm and let her assign him with someone who he didn't know.
I expect he's going to have a fantastic day. And I have high hopes for this young man's future.
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