Memory Inventory: Student ID

I've been holding on to my student ID from the University of Virginia for some reason.  I received it in late August of 1995, and now, 15 years and 6 weeks later, it still resides in my sock drawer for no apparent reason.  I really don't know for sure why I've never gotten rid of it.  Vanity perhaps?  I mean, it is a good picture.  I managed to be very photogenic for that picture for some reason.  I was in shape, tan and blond from being a lifeguard and swimming that summer.  Have I been holding on to this laminated scrap of cardboard for 15 years because I looked good?

I remember the day I received it.  It was a fantastic, hot August day in Charlottesville, Virginia.  I met my roommate as I was moving in.  I unpacked what I could, went to get my ID while my parents finished setting up my room (it was one of those mom things, I couldn't have stopped her if I had wanted to).  The main impression I have of that first day at college is of constructive chaos.  There was a schedule to keep, but keeping the schedule was completely chaotic.  The whole situation threw just about everyone out of their comfort zone, which created a situation in which everyone was just about as friendly as they'd ever been in their lives.  Whether you decided to or not, you ended up introducing yourself to everyone on the off chance that this next person might become your next best friend, your drinking buddy, or your soul mate.

Then there were the familiar faces; at least one anyway.  My wife came by to say hi.  We weren't even dating at the time and certainly did not expect what would happen ten years later.  We had dated in high school and had remained friends after it ended.  I remember we went out to this strange party the university set up out in the common area just to help us mingle and get to know one another.  She and I went out to enjoy it with a few guys from my suite.  She impressed my suite-mates terribly, but we soon lost track of each other in the mix.

I barely recognize myself in that picture when I look at it today.  No only am I no longer as tan, blond or in shape, but so much has happened that there is barely any resemblance between the kid I was 15 years ago, and the young adult I am still becoming (I define young adult up to age 35 btw).  Clearly, my life is good - real good.  But that day - that time - was more pivotal that I realized.

That was the last time my life was not marred by failure.  I had never failed at anything important before, and believed I never would.  I practically believed I never could.  In a few short months, those delusions would be soundly shattered.  Two weeks into the semester I would hobble painfully away from competitive swimming forever.  A month into the semester I would get a "D" on my first calculus text (a four-credit course; my grade would never improve despite way too much effort).  I would finish the semester with a 1.9 GPA and would see real disappointment in my parent's eyes for the first time in my life.

I would return to school for the spring semester with permanently lowered expectations.  Dean's list?  No thank you!  I would settle for anything near a 3.0.  Biology?  'Fraid not!  Hard science was too... mathy.  I would focus on Foreign Affairs; it was more BS-friendly.  Summer internships?  Bah!  I would lifeguard over the summer.  Why would anyone work hard in college when "employers don't really care about grades, they just want to see a degree"?  (That little bit of "common knowledge" floating around grounds proved to be complete BS, by the way.)

In one academic year I had shattered the over-achiever self-image that I had easily maintained in high school.  I replaced it with something mediocre and unimpressive.  Since then I have managed to over-achieve in some really important ways.  I married a woman waaaaaay out of my league.  Together we have a little girl who is the best person the world.  But you cannot erase the effects of your past failures once they've been written on your brain.  They remain with me to this day; I have trouble thinking of myself, or behaving as though I am capable of anything great.

But look at that picture on that student ID.  That kid was capable, responsible, quick-witted, sharp, funny, in shape, excited and ready to conquer anything.  How do I dig him back up out of the layer of grime that semester 15 years ago deposited?  He shines through it every so often: when I'm with my wife, my daughter - they look at me and I can tell they think I'm great.  They wouldn't trade me for that kid if he came with a million dollars in his pockets.  If I see myself through their eyes and ignore my own mediocre self-image, I might regain some of the exuberance and hope I see in the eyes smiling up at me from this old ID.

Surprising Brain Rules for Baby

This Huffington Post Article has a somewhat entertaining video and some surprising insights into early childhood brain development. 

Parents, save the money you've been spending on products that won't make your baby one iota smarter! 

DADS!!!  Get off your backsides and clean more!  I know you're going to say, "I clean plenty!  We share the chores 50/50!"  But all the research says you are grossly over-estimating your contribution.  The average distribution of household work is about 70/30.  I'm sorry, but the Lake Wobegon ("Where all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average.") effect won't save you here!  Remember, that average includes people like me: a stay-at-home-dad who does all the laundry, all the grocery shopping, all the cleaning, and has changed every poopy diaper for 2 1/2 years ('cept for one when Vivian was tiny and I was away). 

One that gets me is that we should be talking to our very young children in baby-ese.  This is easy for Michelle, who almost naturally goes up an octave and gets this adorable lilt in her voice whenever she sees Vivian.  For me, I feel like a baritone singing first tenor whenever I try it.  I have to keep warm water on hand to keep from getting hoarse. 

I was surprised by the notion that praising your children for being smart is a bad idea.  He makes sense though.  You have to watch almost the entire video before you learn about it.

Empathy.  What a concept.  I've already been trying to train myself to empathize with Vivian when she's upset about something and gearing up for a tantrum.  It works pretty well, actually.  I just have to train myself to think before I grab.  She doesn't understand why running around with an open Sharpie freaks me out.  She thinks it's all in good fun, and when I grab the Sharpie from her, she is confused and angry.  Unfortunately, at this stage she tends to run from me whenever I call her, so I'm sorta stuck.  I usually end up causing a tantrum and then trying to empathize with my toddler who, in her mind, I have just wronged.  Ugh.  Any advice?

All in all, I'm impressed with the advice this guy is spouting, especially since he is basing it on good scientific research.  I like science.  It forces us to confront our own irrational behaviors with the light of facts and reason.  I'll probably end up buying the book, or at least visiting his web site once in a while.

Misogyny Alive and Well in America

I did a quick rundown of a few news stories that crossed my Twitter feed in the past few days and am appalled at how badly men in this country feel like they can treat women.

First, we have Brett Favre and his junk.  It's bad enough that an iconic sportsman like Favre would pursue an adulterous affair.  It's bad, but not surprising.  Athletes, celebrities, politicians, religious leaders, and probably a third to half of the married men you know are trying to get with someone they are not supposed to.  I'm not sure how many of them actually sent unwanted pictures of their genitals to someone who is clearly not interested, but I know Favre did just that.  That's no the worst of it, though.  Check out The Daddy Files for another take on Favre and the media's misrepresentation of the woman in question.  He's not a feminist by any stretch of the imagination, and his misconceptions about workplace harassment and the feminist movement in general are a little off-putting, but his take on the misogyny present in our culture is spot-on and refreshing to hear from someone who has "traditionally skewered feminists and feminism in general."

Then we have DKE at Yale:

Begin­ning around 9:30 pm, mem­bers of the DKE fra­ter­nity marched with their pledges around Yale’s Old Cam­pus (the home of almost all of Yale’s fresh­man women) chant­ing slo­gans such as “No means yes, yes means anal” and “My name is Jack, I’m a necrophil­iac, I f— dead women, and fill them with my semen.” 

Here are a few links in chronological order if you want to read a little more: October 14, October 15, and October 18.

I have any number of questions about these young men in DKE at Yale.  First, where were their fathers when they were growing up that they would allow their sons to think for a second that this behavior is acceptable or that these attitudes towards women should even be allowed a moment's purchase in their academically gifted minds?  Where are their parents now?  If I were ever to have a son in college and I heard that any organization in which he was a member perpetrated anything like this, I would require him to quit if he wanted another dime of support for the rest of his life!  This is just abhorrent.  Where are the alums of this fraternity?  Do they condone this behavior?  The strongest possible message needs to be sent; shut it down.  Anything less is tacit approval and license to continue. 

Finally, we have the Meghan McCain firestorm.  She is an intelligent and articulate young woman who expressed serious concern about the messages Christine O'Donnell's nomination to the US Senate sends to young people.  Here's an article on the right-wing media response.  Apparently, they can't look at her without seeing her breasts, and that makes them angry. 

These are just three examples I noticed over the past three days of the reality of misogyny that women confront every day in this country and all over the world.  As a man who loves his wife and his daughter, I know I need to keep that in mind and give them both all the support and love I can muster while doing what I can to call attention to and fight against the misogynistic impulses in our culture. 

Blaming Gender: 5 Reasons Boys Are Slipping in School – The Blogs at HowStuffWorks

Blaming Gender: 5 Reasons Boys Are Slipping in School – The Blogs at HowStuffWorks

Shots Fired at the Pentagon This Morning!

Multiple incidents in recent history.  Check out the story.

There are crazies everywhere.  Just relax, take it easy.  If you are angry, take a pill or something.  Violence is not the answer.  And if you feel like you just have to shoot something, lock up your gun, go buy a pair of boxing gloves, and take it out on a heavy bag.  It is much more effective.

Peace.

Smallville Review: "Homecoming" (Airdate 10/15/10)

The 200th episode of Smallville was a look back at the past 9+ seasons and a look forward to the hero Clark is destined to become.  I loved it.  Lois and Clark return to Smallville for their 5-year High School reunion, we get some flashback memories about Lana, Chloe, and the "Wall of Weird," a great shot of Clark's utter mortification at being crowned the Homecoming Alumni King (HA!), and then we get the return of Brainiac (James Marsters) who (now a good guy with the Legion in the 31st century) guides Clark via time-traveling Legion ring through the pivotal moments of his past and (!) future.  Brainiac's goal is to help Clark get over the mistakes of the past, both his own and those of others in order to become the hero he needs to be in the present. 

There were a couple really awesome moments in an episode that was just great overall: 

1. Clark travels seven years into the future, meets both Lois and his future self (“How did I become so uptight… and nerdy?”), and is blown away by the awesomeness of it all.  So was I.  
2. The final scene was all sorts of romantic and cool in a way that this show rarely gets right.  They nailed it right on the head this time.  My darlin' was all snuggling up with me as a result, so I might be biased.

Seriously, this ep. did everything right in my book.  Sure, there were no super-villains to punch out, no kryptonite, no Lex (maybe they coulda thrown some Lex in there in a flashback or something), but the writers didn't just give us what we wanted to see; they surprised us in the process.  Awesome.

Drawing From My Distant Past #3

Oh, this dude is awesome.  I hung this guy on my wall for years.  I have no idea when I drew this guy.  Looking at the anatomy, I have to assume sometime in 1992.  I was all about creating my own characters at this point, having been inspired by the guys who had just left Marvel to form Image Comics.  This guy eventually became the ultimate bad guy in the stories I created in my head. 

The eyes are still too far up in the head.  WTF is going on with that shoulder, arm, hand, ugh.  I'm pretty sure this guy's left leg is anatomically impossible, or at least very difficult.  What a stupid looking gun.  Oh, and I still hate drawing ears.

I thought I did pretty well with the colors, given that I had not learned a dang thing about how to really use colored pencils.  I can't say I'd do any better with them today, actually.