This morning someone I work with posted a link on my Facebook page, something to do with “things you should know about introverts” or something along those lines, asking me how accurate it was. I’ve been meaning to write a definitive post on introversion for months now, ever since I read Susan Cain’s revelation of a book, Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking, which reorganized all of the filters through which I’d been viewing my own life and in the best possible ways. But writing a post was hard to think about because there’s so much for me to say on the subject. So instead of one post I decided to start a new blog label and just contribute thoughts to the topic in the long term instead. And since I was asked about the following points, I might as well start here. Things you should know about introverts (or at least the one writing this):
We need to recharge alone. Absolutely. Even if that just means stepping into a different room to be alone for a few minutes. I can be at my sister’s with a houseful of family members I love and trust, but will often take a few minutes to go sit in the sun room and just hang out with one of the dogs instead to get centered. It’s not a deliberately planned thing -- it’s just how I react.
We don’t hate being around people, but we probably hate crowds. Being introverted is NOT being antisocial. I can absolutely dread the idea of Open House night at school, but I usually come away from it in a good mood and feeling positive about the coming year after meeting the families I’ll be working with, and that was very much the case this year. Crowds aren’t always evil -- I could spend an entire day walking around the state fair by myself and vanish into the mass of the other 200,000 people there that day and be perfectly content if not downright peaceful in knowing I was invisible to all of the people passing by. But to find myself stuck in a large meeting at our district’s staff development center, especially in the middle room that’s usually broken into four components but is occasionally opened up to accommodate a larger group? I immediately retreat inward to avoid that much concentrated stimulation.
We don’t mind silence. No. Personally I’d rather have music on, but silence has plenty of merit to it as well.
Just because we’re introverted doesn’t mean we’re shy. Agreed. This distinction largely has to do with trust -- who are the people around us we know well enough and trust enough to let them see who we really are? Example: For my part, I like (or at least get along with) everyone I work with, and I feel lucky I can make that claim. But there’s a difference between liking someone and trusting them enough to allow them inside your circle, and I don’t mean trust in the sense that I’m not worried they’re going to sneak into my room and steal my iPad if I forget to lock it up (although I never do). In this instance, trust means I know them well enough and am comfortable enough with them to trust they accept everything that makes me who I am. There are close to one hundred people on the staff at my school. I probably trust about ten of them in this very intimate way. If you have to wonder if you're in that circle for me, you probably aren’t. But that doesn't mean I don't like you.
We can turn on an extroverted personality when necessary, but it is especially draining. Mostly true. This reflects back to an idea I’ve brought up a few times on the blog, about how most people have personalities that are compilations of different situational projections of who they feel they need to be at a given moment. I see my teacher self as a completely different person than my writer self, although those two projections probably reflect my truest natures in very different ways. I’ve always said that if someone really wants to know who I am at my core they would have to read one of my manuscripts or see me when I’m teaching. (Anyone who has done both of those things probably knows me better than I’m comfortable thinking about.) Several years ago I was one of the groomsmen for one of my best friend’s wedding, and not just a groomsmen but “the Best Dude.” Yes, you read that right, not Best Man but Best Dude. Long story but it’s true, and I could produce the wedding program that has me listed as such to prove it. Anyway. This responsibility meant traveling to another state to spend a weekend as a peripheral focal point surrounded by people I didn’t know, which would normally be one strong form of Introvert Hell. But I got through it and had a great time, because of one secret strategy I intentionally used: Any time I was with someone I didn’t know, I brought out the teacher self. Anyone who has seen me in the classroom knows he’s the conditional extrovert. Which is why I'm usually dead tired when I get home. And why my hotel room during the wedding weekend was such a treasured sanctuary.
We aren’t judging you. No, at least to no greater degree than everyone judges everyone else anyway.
We secretly love it when you cancel plans. This is the best of both worlds, almost like winning the lottery. On one hand, we don’t have to go out and be around people when we’d rather be at home, alone, decompressing. On the other hand, we had already committed to plans so we still get the credit for being social without having to actually do anything. The rare exception would be if you back out of something we were really excited about and are were willing to brave the situation to take in the experience, and you cancel at the last minute for less than valid reasons.
We can get wrapped up in our own thoughts. Um, yes? I’m literally thinking about four different things as I write this.
We can be pretty bad at connecting. The list I was given provided this description: “You know when you have had a really bad day and you just want to call up a friend and chat? Yeah, I’m bad at that. I tend to wait for extroverts to reach out and include me, so when the time comes that I need support, I can be a bit lost.” This is absolutely me. I don’t avoid connecting because I feel I’m above it, but because I assume any time I do will be seen as me trying to insert myself into someone else’s life and infringing on their time, which I would never, ever do unless I was absolutely sure they actively wanted me to. This can be a bad thing because I will hardly ever reach out to anyone if I need any kind of tangible or emotional support, even if I'll usually jump at the chance to provide it for others. But the accidental consequence of this has also led to me becoming fairly self-reliant.
We don’t like to hang around. This is conditional. That small group of people I trust? I could hang around with them indefinitely. But as soon as a meeting is over and the exit door is open, I’m a memory. I'm not one to subject myself to any more small talk than is absolutely required.
We have strong opinions. I was sitting in a performance review meeting with a former principal a long time ago, and she mentioned I had a tendency to leave big conversational gaps between questions she asked me and the answers I gave. I thought I was about to get smacked down for this because she thought I seemed hesitant or distracted, but she said it was a quality she appreciated because it showed I was taking the time to consider what she’d said and think about how I would respond. Introverts think a lot, often to the degree it’s easy and convenient to tag it as overthinking, a label I’ll often apply to myself. But I don’t think considered and carefully constructed opinions are a necessarily a bad thing.
And if you don't want to take my word for it, look at that blog archive on the right side of the window and click on some of the posts listed there. You couldn't ask for any more evidence of a ridiculous amount of overthinking than that.
Saturday, August 30, 2014
Friday, August 22, 2014
Back to School / A Change of Seasons
Today, as is usually the case on most summer mornings, it took me a little time to remember what day of the week it was when I woke up, because for a teacher in the summer the days of the week don’t matter much and you lose track after awhile. When the dots finally connected, I realized it was the last Friday of summer vacation. Yes, we still get next Friday off at the end of our 4-day workshop week, and we’ll have Labor Day off as well for a nice long weekend, but those first four days back are physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually draining enough to say that once the collective school staff has officially reported for duty, summer vacation has definitively come to an end.
This time of year can be something of a glass half empty / glass half full test for teachers, depending on how they feel about getting back to work (and I just noticed which glass I listed first). I think I can speak for most teachers in saying we have a foot in both camps, looking ahead to the new school year with a complex set of emotions ranging from optimistic thrill to quiet dread. I personally have many changes coming to my job this year and several of them are promising, but I also know there will be things eventually coming along that.... well, I love my job and I'm grateful I get to do it, but sometimes you just have to remember there’s a paycheck involved and show up and do the best you can. I’d imagine the same could be said about practically any job, but somehow, and I really don’t think I’m overstating this, the stakes just seem higher when the lives and security and futures of kids are involved. Which greatly adds to the stress, and makes summer vacation all the more difficult to leave behind.
The change doesn’t really come all at once, though. We have our warning signs. The retail world raises the first red flag in mid-to-late July when the seasonal merchandise of summer disappears and is immediately replaced with Back to School. Soon after the Sunday paper is filled with circulars advertising incredible deals on supplies (which reminds me I have some errands to run this afternoon), and then the television ads appear. All of this can only be ignored for so long before you crack and make what you fully intend to be just a tentative pass through the school supplies section, and find yourself walking out of Target with three full bags and a supernaturally long receipt.
By the time August rolls in, the first, very, very early leaves begin appearing on the ground. They don’t deserve more than a derisive eye roll because we all know the serious foliage dump is still several weeks away, but it’s hard not to look at these little bits of yellow on the ground and think, “Seriously? You couldn’t have tried to hold out a little longer? You’re not helping anybody.” And here in Minnesota August also means the State Fair, which runs right up to the first day of school and could not be a bigger symbolic end to the summer. Of course the humidity always manages to get completely out of control for at least a few days of the fair, which is awful timing for two reasons: 1) If you go to the fair and spend the day in close proximity with another hundred-thousand people, you don’t want the air to hang on to every passing smell, and 2) it’s also during this time when teachers are called back to work, and in my case humidity does not go over so well in a brick school constructed in the 1950s that stubbornly goes forward without air conditioning.
During times of change like this my tendency to overthink rears its head, and I’ll pause to reflect on the things. Truth be told, I haven’t known a life without some kind of summer vacation since the year I finished kindergarten, so what happens during the summer has often been a very singular chunk of life for me. As for this year, I’m going to list a few of the highlights, more for my own future reference than anything else. But hey, if anything here stirs your curiosity, ask me about it or go check it out for yourself.
Favorite Netflix TV show: Right now I’d have to say the BBC version of “Sherlock,” which was awesome. Although in the past week or so I’ve almost worked my way through the first season of “Louie,” which is also pretty great. Apples and oranges here, but "Sherlock" probably takes the top spot.
Favorite TV Show: TV was largely awful this summer. But even though it started off a little slowly, I really got into “The Strain.” Honorable mention to “Under the Dome,” which I’m still watching just because I want to see what ridiculous thing they come up with next.
Favorite Movie: “Guardians of the Galaxy,” hands down. Best summer movie since “The Avengers,” and if you know me well you know that’s a statement.
Favorite Book: “High as the Horses’ Bridles” by Scott Cheshire. Now, let me be clear: This is NOT anything like the kind of John Sandford crime story page-turner I might typically burn through over a summer weekend. This is literature as art. It’s a challenging and thought-provoking novel about religion and marriage and family that took me twice as long to read as it should have because there were so many lines and passages I would pause to reread and try to deconstruct. And I’m not just saying this because -- full disclosure -- Scott and I share an agent. It’s really a monumental piece of work.
Favorite Album: Coming in as a last-minute dark horse is “Get Hurt” by The Gaslight Anthem. I had an earlier album of theirs I wasn’t entirely impressed with, and I’m very happy I gave them a second chance. It’s a strong rock album that’s beautiful and painful at the same time, and by my third play through parts of it already had me broken in half.
Favorite Concert: Gotta go with The Hold Steady, even though it was much louder than it needed to be. Seeing a band I’ve loved for years for the first time and getting to hear them play so many of my highlight songs was big.
Favorite Game: The Skyrim Legendary Edition. I make no apologies for this.
Favorite Vacation Spot: Wisconsin. Between Ashland, Juneau, Madison, Turtle Lake, and Chippewa Falls, I probably spent a cumulative week in the land of the cheeseheads. The best part of every stop was being surrounded by my exceptionally large and close extended family, which has always been a defining part of my summer.
Favorite Silver Lining: How I escaped injury after getting rear-ended hard enough to necessitate the incredible dollar amount of repairs my car went though I have no idea, but I’m pretty darn grateful all the same.
Favorite New Thing About Summer: To circle back to the school year starting, I joked some in the spring about how having an agent now meant I’d I have to work hard at my second job during the summer. But that was exactly what happened, and it was awesome. To get that first taste of that “teach during the school year and write books full-time in the summer” life plan I sarcastically offered my father back in college bordered on the surreal. In the end it meant I wound up with only about three weeks of the same kind of summer vacation I’m used to having. But that could not have been any better.
And now I've got the rest of my last Friday off to take in....
This time of year can be something of a glass half empty / glass half full test for teachers, depending on how they feel about getting back to work (and I just noticed which glass I listed first). I think I can speak for most teachers in saying we have a foot in both camps, looking ahead to the new school year with a complex set of emotions ranging from optimistic thrill to quiet dread. I personally have many changes coming to my job this year and several of them are promising, but I also know there will be things eventually coming along that.... well, I love my job and I'm grateful I get to do it, but sometimes you just have to remember there’s a paycheck involved and show up and do the best you can. I’d imagine the same could be said about practically any job, but somehow, and I really don’t think I’m overstating this, the stakes just seem higher when the lives and security and futures of kids are involved. Which greatly adds to the stress, and makes summer vacation all the more difficult to leave behind.
The change doesn’t really come all at once, though. We have our warning signs. The retail world raises the first red flag in mid-to-late July when the seasonal merchandise of summer disappears and is immediately replaced with Back to School. Soon after the Sunday paper is filled with circulars advertising incredible deals on supplies (which reminds me I have some errands to run this afternoon), and then the television ads appear. All of this can only be ignored for so long before you crack and make what you fully intend to be just a tentative pass through the school supplies section, and find yourself walking out of Target with three full bags and a supernaturally long receipt.
By the time August rolls in, the first, very, very early leaves begin appearing on the ground. They don’t deserve more than a derisive eye roll because we all know the serious foliage dump is still several weeks away, but it’s hard not to look at these little bits of yellow on the ground and think, “Seriously? You couldn’t have tried to hold out a little longer? You’re not helping anybody.” And here in Minnesota August also means the State Fair, which runs right up to the first day of school and could not be a bigger symbolic end to the summer. Of course the humidity always manages to get completely out of control for at least a few days of the fair, which is awful timing for two reasons: 1) If you go to the fair and spend the day in close proximity with another hundred-thousand people, you don’t want the air to hang on to every passing smell, and 2) it’s also during this time when teachers are called back to work, and in my case humidity does not go over so well in a brick school constructed in the 1950s that stubbornly goes forward without air conditioning.
During times of change like this my tendency to overthink rears its head, and I’ll pause to reflect on the things. Truth be told, I haven’t known a life without some kind of summer vacation since the year I finished kindergarten, so what happens during the summer has often been a very singular chunk of life for me. As for this year, I’m going to list a few of the highlights, more for my own future reference than anything else. But hey, if anything here stirs your curiosity, ask me about it or go check it out for yourself.
Favorite Netflix TV show: Right now I’d have to say the BBC version of “Sherlock,” which was awesome. Although in the past week or so I’ve almost worked my way through the first season of “Louie,” which is also pretty great. Apples and oranges here, but "Sherlock" probably takes the top spot.
Favorite TV Show: TV was largely awful this summer. But even though it started off a little slowly, I really got into “The Strain.” Honorable mention to “Under the Dome,” which I’m still watching just because I want to see what ridiculous thing they come up with next.
Favorite Movie: “Guardians of the Galaxy,” hands down. Best summer movie since “The Avengers,” and if you know me well you know that’s a statement.
Favorite Book: “High as the Horses’ Bridles” by Scott Cheshire. Now, let me be clear: This is NOT anything like the kind of John Sandford crime story page-turner I might typically burn through over a summer weekend. This is literature as art. It’s a challenging and thought-provoking novel about religion and marriage and family that took me twice as long to read as it should have because there were so many lines and passages I would pause to reread and try to deconstruct. And I’m not just saying this because -- full disclosure -- Scott and I share an agent. It’s really a monumental piece of work.
Favorite Album: Coming in as a last-minute dark horse is “Get Hurt” by The Gaslight Anthem. I had an earlier album of theirs I wasn’t entirely impressed with, and I’m very happy I gave them a second chance. It’s a strong rock album that’s beautiful and painful at the same time, and by my third play through parts of it already had me broken in half.
Favorite Concert: Gotta go with The Hold Steady, even though it was much louder than it needed to be. Seeing a band I’ve loved for years for the first time and getting to hear them play so many of my highlight songs was big.
Favorite Game: The Skyrim Legendary Edition. I make no apologies for this.
Favorite Vacation Spot: Wisconsin. Between Ashland, Juneau, Madison, Turtle Lake, and Chippewa Falls, I probably spent a cumulative week in the land of the cheeseheads. The best part of every stop was being surrounded by my exceptionally large and close extended family, which has always been a defining part of my summer.
Favorite Silver Lining: How I escaped injury after getting rear-ended hard enough to necessitate the incredible dollar amount of repairs my car went though I have no idea, but I’m pretty darn grateful all the same.
Favorite New Thing About Summer: To circle back to the school year starting, I joked some in the spring about how having an agent now meant I’d I have to work hard at my second job during the summer. But that was exactly what happened, and it was awesome. To get that first taste of that “teach during the school year and write books full-time in the summer” life plan I sarcastically offered my father back in college bordered on the surreal. In the end it meant I wound up with only about three weeks of the same kind of summer vacation I’m used to having. But that could not have been any better.
And now I've got the rest of my last Friday off to take in....
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
Back to School / An Open Letter to Kiana
Dear Kiana,
This is the third post I’ve written over the years in which I tell people embarking on their college careers how to live their lives, inspired by the old person theme of “If I knew back then what I know now.” The beauty of this particular post is it’s the first time I can write to someone actually attending my alma mater. Not that I have any cult-like devotion to the school; ultimately it served its purpose, and did so in a way that I’m sure wouldn’t have been much better or worse than any other number of colleges. But it was mine, so I have deeper emotional attachments to it beyond the GPA and diploma it provided me.
If I was given the chance to relive a month from my life, I would chose any random month during college. Not because that was the absolute peak and everything has been downhill since (although college was AWESOME), but because I still believe it to be the most formative part of life, and to go back and find myself immersed in so many defining experiences again with a truer awareness of how important they were would be exhilarating. Since I can’t do that though, I can at least pass on any wisdom I have, and hopefully you’ll get something out of it. So for you and anyone else out there about to begin on this adventure (Meredith and Phil, I’m looking at you), here’s everything you need to know:
*First off, people are going to burden you with advice as you make this transition, just as I’m doing now. Listen, nod politely, and seriously consider what they (we) say. Then make your own decisions.
*On the surface, the biggest reason for going to college is to learn. You’ve demonstrated you can already do this successfully if you got into college, but the rules are about to change. Back in high school, it was the job of your teachers to teach you. In college, it’s your job to learn. Some teachers will be great and you’ll learn things from them -- both in regard to academic content and otherwise -- that will stay with you throughout your life. Other teachers will be pure crap. You’ll use them as mental punchlines and shake your head in disbelief when you think about them over the years. None of this ultimately matters. In college, they are just the vessel. What you’ll get from your classes will be what you decide to get.
*The blank slate is a beautiful thing. You’re going to be surrounded by people who don’t know anything about you, which gives you great opportunities to define yourself. Never again will you have so many people your own age as a part of your daily life. It’s entirely possible -- in fact, likely -- that you still haven’t encountered some of the most important people in your life yet. Try to recognize when those relationships are forming, and appreciate them.
*St. Cloud in autumn is astonishingly beautiful. Soak it all in. Make a point to sometime talk a walk through the big park on the opposite side of the river from campus.
*Never be in a dorm bathroom with bare feet.
*Accept that it’s okay when things don’t go your way. Life happens the way it does, and you won’t always be thrilled with how things turn out. Sometimes you are going to be knocked back on your butt, and really, really hard. Everyone fails. Who you become will largely be determined by how you handle the failures when they occur. Appreciate the setbacks and the roadblocks for the less-than-obvious guidance they’ll provide. Remember those bad moments will eventually be reduced to footnotes someday, and the good ones will only build momentum.
*Own your history. Everything good and bad that has happened to you up to this point has made you into the person you are right now. That will continue as life goes on. Learn from it.
*Keep exercising. There’s probably a lot of pizza in your future.
*Explore your campus. You’re paying a boatload of money to be there, you might as well know your way around the place. Take in the history of all that came before you and all that’s happening around you. It will open you up to a wider version of the world than you may have considered before, and could introduce possibilities into your life that you otherwise may not discover. Plus if you know the buildings well you’ll have the best shortcuts mapped out for when you oversleep, and you’ll know the best inside paths for the days you have class and it’s -20 outside.
*To extend that thought, explore the activities available to you. Try things out. Meet people. Step out of your comfort zone from time to time and bring in new experiences. Little bits add up over time.
*To extend that even more, explore the city. Try out the bus routes; they really aren’t that tough to navigate and will broaden your available world even more.
*The four or five or six years you’re in college might seem like an eternity now, but they will absolutely fly by. Soak it up. And if you want to write? Take in all the details. Notice things. Speculate. Wonder.
*If / when you eventually move into off-campus housing, don’t get an apartment by the meat packing plant on the far side of the hockey arena. And if you do, don’t get a second floor bedroom that looks out over the road where they trucks drive by when they haul away those meatpacking remnants. Because, gross. I promise you there are things in those trucks that nobody ever needs to see.
*Get your heart broken really, really badly at least once so you learn that life goes on.
*Even if your generals feel like something you could blow off, don’t. They establish the groundwork for your GPA. And when you have a class with more than 100 people in it and the professor gives you a test on a bubble sheet that has more than one version, be very sure you turn in your bubble sheet to the correct pile. Because if you don’t you’re going to fail the test spectacularly even if you knew all of that stupid Earth Science material forward and backward and NOBODY will care and it will still irritate the life out of you twenty years later.
*The music you discover in college has the potential to be a big part of your adult life. Pay close attention to it.
*If you have a morning class in Stewart Hall, stay away from the windows and out of the sunlight. (Click here to find out why.)
*When it’s logistically reasonable, get a job up there. A little spending money never hurts, but it will also bring you balance. Bonus points if you can find a job that will somehow give you experiences related to what you’re studying. I put in two years at the Boys and Girls Club up there, and it is no understatement to say it changed the direction of my life.
*Home won’t be all that far away, but resist the urge to spend too much time away from St. Cloud. Keep yourself as immersed in all of it as you can, because you only get to do it once.
*Be extremely careful when accepting a drink from someone you don’t know. “No thanks” is always an option. Stronger responses are also permitted if that doesn’t work.
*College is a perfect time to get as much stupid out of your system as possible before you have to evolve into a full-fledged, responsible adult. Take advantage of this, to an extent that doesn’t result in anything dangerous. If you do something that ends up with a weekend of embarrassment? Fine. Gotta learn to bounce back from that. Permanent scars? Not so much. Be self-aware enough to take the moment and consider your actions. And remember, even though you have a huge circle of people who love and support you, you are still one of mine. If you ever find yourself so completely stuck in a situation you can’t find your way around, I hope you’ll remember I’m here.
Now get off the Internet and go finish packing. You’ve got a world to make.
This is the third post I’ve written over the years in which I tell people embarking on their college careers how to live their lives, inspired by the old person theme of “If I knew back then what I know now.” The beauty of this particular post is it’s the first time I can write to someone actually attending my alma mater. Not that I have any cult-like devotion to the school; ultimately it served its purpose, and did so in a way that I’m sure wouldn’t have been much better or worse than any other number of colleges. But it was mine, so I have deeper emotional attachments to it beyond the GPA and diploma it provided me.
If I was given the chance to relive a month from my life, I would chose any random month during college. Not because that was the absolute peak and everything has been downhill since (although college was AWESOME), but because I still believe it to be the most formative part of life, and to go back and find myself immersed in so many defining experiences again with a truer awareness of how important they were would be exhilarating. Since I can’t do that though, I can at least pass on any wisdom I have, and hopefully you’ll get something out of it. So for you and anyone else out there about to begin on this adventure (Meredith and Phil, I’m looking at you), here’s everything you need to know:
*First off, people are going to burden you with advice as you make this transition, just as I’m doing now. Listen, nod politely, and seriously consider what they (we) say. Then make your own decisions.
*On the surface, the biggest reason for going to college is to learn. You’ve demonstrated you can already do this successfully if you got into college, but the rules are about to change. Back in high school, it was the job of your teachers to teach you. In college, it’s your job to learn. Some teachers will be great and you’ll learn things from them -- both in regard to academic content and otherwise -- that will stay with you throughout your life. Other teachers will be pure crap. You’ll use them as mental punchlines and shake your head in disbelief when you think about them over the years. None of this ultimately matters. In college, they are just the vessel. What you’ll get from your classes will be what you decide to get.
*The blank slate is a beautiful thing. You’re going to be surrounded by people who don’t know anything about you, which gives you great opportunities to define yourself. Never again will you have so many people your own age as a part of your daily life. It’s entirely possible -- in fact, likely -- that you still haven’t encountered some of the most important people in your life yet. Try to recognize when those relationships are forming, and appreciate them.
*St. Cloud in autumn is astonishingly beautiful. Soak it all in. Make a point to sometime talk a walk through the big park on the opposite side of the river from campus.
*Never be in a dorm bathroom with bare feet.
*Accept that it’s okay when things don’t go your way. Life happens the way it does, and you won’t always be thrilled with how things turn out. Sometimes you are going to be knocked back on your butt, and really, really hard. Everyone fails. Who you become will largely be determined by how you handle the failures when they occur. Appreciate the setbacks and the roadblocks for the less-than-obvious guidance they’ll provide. Remember those bad moments will eventually be reduced to footnotes someday, and the good ones will only build momentum.
*Own your history. Everything good and bad that has happened to you up to this point has made you into the person you are right now. That will continue as life goes on. Learn from it.
*Keep exercising. There’s probably a lot of pizza in your future.
*Explore your campus. You’re paying a boatload of money to be there, you might as well know your way around the place. Take in the history of all that came before you and all that’s happening around you. It will open you up to a wider version of the world than you may have considered before, and could introduce possibilities into your life that you otherwise may not discover. Plus if you know the buildings well you’ll have the best shortcuts mapped out for when you oversleep, and you’ll know the best inside paths for the days you have class and it’s -20 outside.
*To extend that thought, explore the activities available to you. Try things out. Meet people. Step out of your comfort zone from time to time and bring in new experiences. Little bits add up over time.
*To extend that even more, explore the city. Try out the bus routes; they really aren’t that tough to navigate and will broaden your available world even more.
*The four or five or six years you’re in college might seem like an eternity now, but they will absolutely fly by. Soak it up. And if you want to write? Take in all the details. Notice things. Speculate. Wonder.
*If / when you eventually move into off-campus housing, don’t get an apartment by the meat packing plant on the far side of the hockey arena. And if you do, don’t get a second floor bedroom that looks out over the road where they trucks drive by when they haul away those meatpacking remnants. Because, gross. I promise you there are things in those trucks that nobody ever needs to see.
*Get your heart broken really, really badly at least once so you learn that life goes on.
*Even if your generals feel like something you could blow off, don’t. They establish the groundwork for your GPA. And when you have a class with more than 100 people in it and the professor gives you a test on a bubble sheet that has more than one version, be very sure you turn in your bubble sheet to the correct pile. Because if you don’t you’re going to fail the test spectacularly even if you knew all of that stupid Earth Science material forward and backward and NOBODY will care and it will still irritate the life out of you twenty years later.
*The music you discover in college has the potential to be a big part of your adult life. Pay close attention to it.
*If you have a morning class in Stewart Hall, stay away from the windows and out of the sunlight. (Click here to find out why.)
*When it’s logistically reasonable, get a job up there. A little spending money never hurts, but it will also bring you balance. Bonus points if you can find a job that will somehow give you experiences related to what you’re studying. I put in two years at the Boys and Girls Club up there, and it is no understatement to say it changed the direction of my life.
*Home won’t be all that far away, but resist the urge to spend too much time away from St. Cloud. Keep yourself as immersed in all of it as you can, because you only get to do it once.
*Be extremely careful when accepting a drink from someone you don’t know. “No thanks” is always an option. Stronger responses are also permitted if that doesn’t work.
*College is a perfect time to get as much stupid out of your system as possible before you have to evolve into a full-fledged, responsible adult. Take advantage of this, to an extent that doesn’t result in anything dangerous. If you do something that ends up with a weekend of embarrassment? Fine. Gotta learn to bounce back from that. Permanent scars? Not so much. Be self-aware enough to take the moment and consider your actions. And remember, even though you have a huge circle of people who love and support you, you are still one of mine. If you ever find yourself so completely stuck in a situation you can’t find your way around, I hope you’ll remember I’m here.
Now get off the Internet and go finish packing. You’ve got a world to make.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Robin Williams Top 10
The tragic death of Robin Williams has been a dominant part of the collective consciousness over the past few days, and rightly so. I literally grew up watching him. I remember seeing his very first appearance as Mork from Ork on "Happy Days," one of my favorite TV shows as a kid, wondering who that guy was who could talk so fast, and feeling like he was somebody I should have heard of before. Any kind of tribute I could write would be redundant after everything that's been said about him recently, but I still wanted to add my two cents. For my part I reviewed his IMDb listing and came up with my ten favorite movies in which he appeared. As always, in no particular order:
Aladdin -- A cartoon character with magic powers may have been the perfectly matched role for him.
The Fisher King -- A movie I haven't seen nearly enough times. His character was so broken in this he made it difficult to watch.
Awakenings -- A great example of how he didn't need to play manic to still be affecting as an actor.
Insomnia -- An early Christoper Nolan movie that I'm not sure a lot of people have seen, but should. It's a very engaging mystery, and he is purely unsettling in it.
Hook -- I loved this one. An unusual approach on a classic story with a beautiful score, that had several moments reminding me of the classic, timeless feel of so many of the magical Walt Disney live action movies from my childhood.
The Best of Times -- By most accounts this wasn't a very successful movie and is all but forgotten now, but I took it as the harmless, feel-good comedy it was intended to be and really enjoyed it.
The Adventures of Baron Munchausen -- His role in this was little more than a glorified cameo, but when you see it you can't imagine anyone else playing that part.
Good Will Hunting -- A great movie that still holds up. He was both the catalyst and the bond that held the story together.
Dead Poets Society -- I always have a soft spot for teacher movies. If I'd had someone like John Keating teaching me about poetry instead of the dried-up fossil I'd had for a professor while I was an undergrad English minor, I'd likely have a greater appreciation for it now.
What Dreams My Come -- A deeply spiritual movie that, while not being overbearing about its message, still pushes you to the limits of emotional and sensory overload.
Thinking over some of these makes me think it might be a good day to update my Netflix queue.
Aladdin -- A cartoon character with magic powers may have been the perfectly matched role for him.
The Fisher King -- A movie I haven't seen nearly enough times. His character was so broken in this he made it difficult to watch.
Awakenings -- A great example of how he didn't need to play manic to still be affecting as an actor.
Insomnia -- An early Christoper Nolan movie that I'm not sure a lot of people have seen, but should. It's a very engaging mystery, and he is purely unsettling in it.
Hook -- I loved this one. An unusual approach on a classic story with a beautiful score, that had several moments reminding me of the classic, timeless feel of so many of the magical Walt Disney live action movies from my childhood.
The Best of Times -- By most accounts this wasn't a very successful movie and is all but forgotten now, but I took it as the harmless, feel-good comedy it was intended to be and really enjoyed it.
The Adventures of Baron Munchausen -- His role in this was little more than a glorified cameo, but when you see it you can't imagine anyone else playing that part.
Good Will Hunting -- A great movie that still holds up. He was both the catalyst and the bond that held the story together.
Dead Poets Society -- I always have a soft spot for teacher movies. If I'd had someone like John Keating teaching me about poetry instead of the dried-up fossil I'd had for a professor while I was an undergrad English minor, I'd likely have a greater appreciation for it now.
What Dreams My Come -- A deeply spiritual movie that, while not being overbearing about its message, still pushes you to the limits of emotional and sensory overload.
Thinking over some of these makes me think it might be a good day to update my Netflix queue.
Monday, August 11, 2014
Back to School / Who Am I?
When the school year ends and the summer begins, a lot of teachers bring work home with them, effectively shooting down that whole civilian chorus of “Boy, it must be nice for you teachers to have the summers off!” (This is ignoring the fact we cram fourteen months of work into ten.) Teachers will take time out of their vacations for planning, organizing materials, taking classes, and any number of things that will help them get ready for the fall. I’ll be changing to a different grade this year so I brought home a lot of potential work, knowing how valuable it would be for me to familiarize myself with the new materials. I am incredibly proud to say that all of these materials have spent the entire summer untouched since I hauled them out of my car back on June 12th. No surprise there, really.
But I had one homework assignment for the summer I really couldn’t avoid: I had to make a collage. No, scratch that: I had to make a FUN collage, to showcase who I am as an individual outside of school. As the note said, “I am a teacher, but I am also....” followed by “We would like to request that each staff member create a fun collage over the summer to showcase who you are as an individual outside of school. We will be showcasing our collages to staff, parents, and students at our open house in August to help give our school a warm, welcoming feel. Thank you in advance for your creativity! Your collage can be any size or format. We look forward to seeing more of who you are!”
This project came courtesy of the Cultural Competency Committee --a team comprised of collaborating caregivers concerned about creating a comprehensively comfortable and inclusive community (I couldn’t let that name get away with only three Cs.) I’ll admit, the collage isn’t a bad idea as far as open house introductory activities go, and it’s a lot better than some of the other things we’ve been asked to do in previous years. But speaking as someone so introverted I actually went back-to-school shopping at a Target store two suburbs away instead of the one a mile from my house (just to make sure I didn’t run into any families who wanted to make Target small talk about summer and how it’s almost over) the idea of assembling any kind of representation of who I am away from school is slightly daunting, to say the very least.
I’m predicting several of these collages will feature photographs of husbands, wives, children, babies, and pets. I personally have none of these things. (Okay, yes, I did have a dog, but the less we revisit that little tragedy, the better.) So if my collage is going to have any kind of fun to it at all, I have a lot of empty spaces to fill. And the thought of my collage being the only one presented that leaves people walking away with misplaced feelings of boredom, shame, and misery instead of inspiring all kinds of welcoming fun? Gahh! I can’t take that kind of pressure!!!
So that brings me back to the original prompt: “I am a teacher, but I am also....” I won’t get into the malleable concept of self and how each of us rotates through so many different projections on any given day, since I’ve already done that post (click here if you want to dive into those deeper thoughts). I’ve got enough on my plate trying to think of how I’m going to define myself for one little collage without circling back to deconstruct what, if any, personality I may possess beyond the pictures and music on my phone and a modest collection of Facebook Likes.
But for now I’m just going to put this issue out to the collective consciousness of the Internet, pop open a bottle of diet Snapple half-and-half, put my existential crisis on pause and enjoy my final two weeks of summer for all they are worth while waiting for inspiration to arrive. And if I don’t pull it off, I apologize in advance to anyone who experiences my collage and ends up soul-starved and broken as a result....
But I had one homework assignment for the summer I really couldn’t avoid: I had to make a collage. No, scratch that: I had to make a FUN collage, to showcase who I am as an individual outside of school. As the note said, “I am a teacher, but I am also....” followed by “We would like to request that each staff member create a fun collage over the summer to showcase who you are as an individual outside of school. We will be showcasing our collages to staff, parents, and students at our open house in August to help give our school a warm, welcoming feel. Thank you in advance for your creativity! Your collage can be any size or format. We look forward to seeing more of who you are!”
This project came courtesy of the Cultural Competency Committee --a team comprised of collaborating caregivers concerned about creating a comprehensively comfortable and inclusive community (I couldn’t let that name get away with only three Cs.) I’ll admit, the collage isn’t a bad idea as far as open house introductory activities go, and it’s a lot better than some of the other things we’ve been asked to do in previous years. But speaking as someone so introverted I actually went back-to-school shopping at a Target store two suburbs away instead of the one a mile from my house (just to make sure I didn’t run into any families who wanted to make Target small talk about summer and how it’s almost over) the idea of assembling any kind of representation of who I am away from school is slightly daunting, to say the very least.
I’m predicting several of these collages will feature photographs of husbands, wives, children, babies, and pets. I personally have none of these things. (Okay, yes, I did have a dog, but the less we revisit that little tragedy, the better.) So if my collage is going to have any kind of fun to it at all, I have a lot of empty spaces to fill. And the thought of my collage being the only one presented that leaves people walking away with misplaced feelings of boredom, shame, and misery instead of inspiring all kinds of welcoming fun? Gahh! I can’t take that kind of pressure!!!
So that brings me back to the original prompt: “I am a teacher, but I am also....” I won’t get into the malleable concept of self and how each of us rotates through so many different projections on any given day, since I’ve already done that post (click here if you want to dive into those deeper thoughts). I’ve got enough on my plate trying to think of how I’m going to define myself for one little collage without circling back to deconstruct what, if any, personality I may possess beyond the pictures and music on my phone and a modest collection of Facebook Likes.
But for now I’m just going to put this issue out to the collective consciousness of the Internet, pop open a bottle of diet Snapple half-and-half, put my existential crisis on pause and enjoy my final two weeks of summer for all they are worth while waiting for inspiration to arrive. And if I don’t pull it off, I apologize in advance to anyone who experiences my collage and ends up soul-starved and broken as a result....
Thursday, August 7, 2014
The Book-Into-Movie Dilemma
As I write this, the movie version of "The Giver" is about a week away from its release. Just in the past few days I’ve learned a recently successful director has signed to do a movie version of "A Wrinkle in Time." I loved both of these books. I don't expect I will ever see either of the movies.
Too many times I've seen a great book become less because of the movie version. For example, we have Neil Gaiman’s “Coraline,” a beautifully written and legitimately scary middle grade horror story. I’ve used it as a classroom read aloud several times. The book left enough of an impression on one student that she came back to see me while in middle school, wanting to borrow the copy I read to her class so she could bring it to a Neil Gaiman reading she was attending and have him sign it for me. The movie version of “Coraline?” It had a lot to like, but I couldn’t get over a new character added for the movie, the skateboard kid with the goofy nickname who lived in the neighborhood. That kid was such an unnecessary amalgamation of stereotypical middle-grade boy traits, he all but ruined the movie for me.
So I'm cautious about movies made from books I love. “A Wrinkle in Time” was, without condition, my favorite book growing up. It was as formative for me in elementary school as Bruce Springsteen's “Born to Run” album was in high school. Between 3rd and 6th grade, I read it eleven times. I read all of the sequels, which were nice extensions of the original but did not live up to the thrill of first encountering the story. I had my own elaborate ideas of what the fantastical worlds from the story were like, even without any reasonable visual reference beyond the author’s description. I know what my versions of Meg Murry and Mrs. Whatsit and Aunt Beast and The Man with the Red Eyes and the Black Thing were like. A flash of memory still hits me now when I watch "Captain America" or "The Avengers" and hear characters referring to The Tesseract, because I first knew of that word from “A Wrinkle in Time.” Those images have become indelible parts of my DNA as a reader, and consequently as a writer. Do I want to see another interpretation, or subject myself to the chance a movie version might marginalize this book I loved so dearly? Because seriously, and I'm not saying this is going to happen, it would break my heart to see Charles Wallace break into song.
I was introduced to “The Giver” when it was being passed around through groups of teachers when it first came out. Even if it's technically young adult, a lot of elementary teachers were into it. I was assigned to read it for a children's lit class in my master’s course work, and pulled the class into a lengthy debate about how the book ends (I came prepared with highlighted moments from the text that supported my point). I’ve had a long-standing argument about how that ending with a Talent Development teacher I work with. Whenever she taught the book to the fifth graders, the kids would always split between our two opinions and I'd congratulate the ones who came to the same conclusion I did, unprompted. It's one of my favorite books, but I will never see this movie. I fear the movie version is being released now to ride the wave of recent dystopian YA books-to-movies (“The Hunger Games,” “Divergent,” etc.) even though it could be argued "The Giver" was one of the grandparents of that genre. So now in the movie Jonas is 16 instead of 12, which already disassembles a key plot point, and the trailers I've seen make it look like much more of an action/adventure plot than the book was. But my biggest fear is a movie version putting a definitive ending on the story. One of my favorite things about it was how the end was so widely open to interpretation, which has led to decade-length discussions for me, and not just about this particular book but about the roles and responsibilities of both the reader and the author in literature.
It's sad to think there could be a generation of readers who haven't experienced either of these two books yet and will get their first exposure to them as movies, only to read the novels as follow-ups to their movie experience. I think a movie can be a great way to recapture the experience of first discovering a book, but too often it’s hit or miss. I guess a lot of opinion here depends on how you're introduced to the source material. I've seen a lot of movies based on books that have been great. I’m just glad that in these two examples I got to know the stories first as books.
Too many times I've seen a great book become less because of the movie version. For example, we have Neil Gaiman’s “Coraline,” a beautifully written and legitimately scary middle grade horror story. I’ve used it as a classroom read aloud several times. The book left enough of an impression on one student that she came back to see me while in middle school, wanting to borrow the copy I read to her class so she could bring it to a Neil Gaiman reading she was attending and have him sign it for me. The movie version of “Coraline?” It had a lot to like, but I couldn’t get over a new character added for the movie, the skateboard kid with the goofy nickname who lived in the neighborhood. That kid was such an unnecessary amalgamation of stereotypical middle-grade boy traits, he all but ruined the movie for me.
So I'm cautious about movies made from books I love. “A Wrinkle in Time” was, without condition, my favorite book growing up. It was as formative for me in elementary school as Bruce Springsteen's “Born to Run” album was in high school. Between 3rd and 6th grade, I read it eleven times. I read all of the sequels, which were nice extensions of the original but did not live up to the thrill of first encountering the story. I had my own elaborate ideas of what the fantastical worlds from the story were like, even without any reasonable visual reference beyond the author’s description. I know what my versions of Meg Murry and Mrs. Whatsit and Aunt Beast and The Man with the Red Eyes and the Black Thing were like. A flash of memory still hits me now when I watch "Captain America" or "The Avengers" and hear characters referring to The Tesseract, because I first knew of that word from “A Wrinkle in Time.” Those images have become indelible parts of my DNA as a reader, and consequently as a writer. Do I want to see another interpretation, or subject myself to the chance a movie version might marginalize this book I loved so dearly? Because seriously, and I'm not saying this is going to happen, it would break my heart to see Charles Wallace break into song.
I was introduced to “The Giver” when it was being passed around through groups of teachers when it first came out. Even if it's technically young adult, a lot of elementary teachers were into it. I was assigned to read it for a children's lit class in my master’s course work, and pulled the class into a lengthy debate about how the book ends (I came prepared with highlighted moments from the text that supported my point). I’ve had a long-standing argument about how that ending with a Talent Development teacher I work with. Whenever she taught the book to the fifth graders, the kids would always split between our two opinions and I'd congratulate the ones who came to the same conclusion I did, unprompted. It's one of my favorite books, but I will never see this movie. I fear the movie version is being released now to ride the wave of recent dystopian YA books-to-movies (“The Hunger Games,” “Divergent,” etc.) even though it could be argued "The Giver" was one of the grandparents of that genre. So now in the movie Jonas is 16 instead of 12, which already disassembles a key plot point, and the trailers I've seen make it look like much more of an action/adventure plot than the book was. But my biggest fear is a movie version putting a definitive ending on the story. One of my favorite things about it was how the end was so widely open to interpretation, which has led to decade-length discussions for me, and not just about this particular book but about the roles and responsibilities of both the reader and the author in literature.
It's sad to think there could be a generation of readers who haven't experienced either of these two books yet and will get their first exposure to them as movies, only to read the novels as follow-ups to their movie experience. I think a movie can be a great way to recapture the experience of first discovering a book, but too often it’s hit or miss. I guess a lot of opinion here depends on how you're introduced to the source material. I've seen a lot of movies based on books that have been great. I’m just glad that in these two examples I got to know the stories first as books.
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
One Week in a Prius
I’ve enjoyed almost everything about summer vacation this year...except for that one time I was waiting for a red light to turn green and the distracted driver behind the wheel of a 20-year-old tank of an automobile came plowing into the back end of my end of my car. I was right at the intersection so I wasn’t knocked into anyone directly in front of me, and the other driver was at least aware enough of her proximity to an intersection to have been slowing down. At first it looked like a simple case of cosmetic damage to the bumper and the rear gate, but as the mechanic that both my insurance company and the Toyota dealer recommended said when he got a look at it, “Yeah, you got tagged pretty hard.”
I had two precarious weeks of minimal driving before they could schedule my repairs, then I brought my car over for work I was told would take a week or two to complete. The insurance company supplied a rental car for that time, which turned out to be a Prius. I wasn’t totally unfamiliar with the hybrid experience since both my sister and my brother-in-law drive them, but I hadn’t yet driven one myself. Turns out there was something of a learning curve involved.
DAY 1
After getting a three-minute tutorial from the rental guy, I sat behind the wheel and started it up. I hear this loud reverse beep and wonder if the rest of the world can hear it as well, since there isn’t any engine sound. Where’s the speedometer? How do I turn the A/C down? And what’s with this push-button start-up witchcraft? Instead of a normal dashboard it has a display, which reminds me a lot of the heads-up display I’ve seen frequently used in gaming. It’s all too much to keep track of until I figure out how to compartmentalize it and learn where to look. For some reason the car I’m driving has Washington plates on it. I momentarily wonder if BuzzFeed has ever compiled a list of the 17 states with the highest per capita of hybrid automobiles.
DAY 2
Every time I get in this car, I’m reminded of my sister and my brother-in-law. I feel like I’m required to be listening to The Current, the Twin Cities’ NPR alternative rock radio station, because that's what they would have on. It also feels wrong if I don’t have an empty Caribou coffee cup in drink holder, a semi-loose ball of yarn rolling around on the floor, or a partial case of Monster energy drink in the back. The other things I can deal with, but I feel like I’m violating an important part of the Prius Code if I don’t listen to The Current. Since I don’t see a jack anywhere for plugging in my iPhone and I don't want to be monkeying around with an unfamiliar radio while driving, I guess The Current it is.
DAY 3
My display shows the length of any trip I take. One time I drove somewhere, parked, and looked at the mileage. I drove home the exact same route and saw the return mileage was a tenth of a mile greater. This freaked me out a little since I hadn't been aware of any time/space portals in my neighborhood.
DAY 4
I went to see “Guardians of the Galaxy” with Nephew #3. When I tried to start the car after the movie, all the lights came on but with no power as the starter button flashed orange at me. I’m certain I broke my science-fiction rental car. "What did I screw up here, there are only like three steps," I thought. I asked my nephew why all of this was happening, figuring his mom and stepdad both drive Priuses (or is the plural form Prii?). He gives me a look from the passenger seat like, “I'm thirteen. What are you expecting me to tell you here?" He finally replies, "I have never seen this happen before,” which isn’t at all reassuring. I start to think computers and decide to try rebooting the car. It thankfully works. As we start driving out of the theater parking lot, I notice the air conditioning isn’t on and figure I probably pressed the wrong button when I was shutting the car down and setting it into park. Now I’m afraid to try adjusting anything.
DAY 5
I drove about eight miles through monsoon-level rain today, and learned two things: 1) Trying to look out the rear window of a Prius in heavy rain is probably about the same as trying to look through a submarine periscope during a hurricane. 2) When I have the wiper blades on full power and I’m waiting at a stoplight, the motion of the wiper mechanism actually ROCKS THE ENTIRE CAR. Unfortunately I now know my RAV 4 can take a solid punch without even deploying the airbag. This car now feels as fragile as an Easter egg.
DAY 6
I never get used to the feeling of waiting a stoplight, starting to move once the light turns green, and not hearing the motor. Every single time this happens I’m convinced the engine is going to die right there in the middle of the street.
DAY 7
It turns out the dashboard display will scroll though the titles of songs on the radio and the artists as they’re played. For a music nerd like me, this is far too big of a temptation, especially when I’m listening to a station like The Current that plays a lot of music not instantly identifiable. I’ve caught myself glancing at the display to learn the song title and the artist too many times, so I finally caved and changed the tuner to one of the homogenous radio stations that now refers to the music I grew up with as “classic rock.”
Since I wound up behind the wheel of this car because of someone else's distracted driving and I still have it for at least another week, I figure that’s probably for the best.
I had two precarious weeks of minimal driving before they could schedule my repairs, then I brought my car over for work I was told would take a week or two to complete. The insurance company supplied a rental car for that time, which turned out to be a Prius. I wasn’t totally unfamiliar with the hybrid experience since both my sister and my brother-in-law drive them, but I hadn’t yet driven one myself. Turns out there was something of a learning curve involved.
DAY 1
After getting a three-minute tutorial from the rental guy, I sat behind the wheel and started it up. I hear this loud reverse beep and wonder if the rest of the world can hear it as well, since there isn’t any engine sound. Where’s the speedometer? How do I turn the A/C down? And what’s with this push-button start-up witchcraft? Instead of a normal dashboard it has a display, which reminds me a lot of the heads-up display I’ve seen frequently used in gaming. It’s all too much to keep track of until I figure out how to compartmentalize it and learn where to look. For some reason the car I’m driving has Washington plates on it. I momentarily wonder if BuzzFeed has ever compiled a list of the 17 states with the highest per capita of hybrid automobiles.
DAY 2
Every time I get in this car, I’m reminded of my sister and my brother-in-law. I feel like I’m required to be listening to The Current, the Twin Cities’ NPR alternative rock radio station, because that's what they would have on. It also feels wrong if I don’t have an empty Caribou coffee cup in drink holder, a semi-loose ball of yarn rolling around on the floor, or a partial case of Monster energy drink in the back. The other things I can deal with, but I feel like I’m violating an important part of the Prius Code if I don’t listen to The Current. Since I don’t see a jack anywhere for plugging in my iPhone and I don't want to be monkeying around with an unfamiliar radio while driving, I guess The Current it is.
DAY 3
My display shows the length of any trip I take. One time I drove somewhere, parked, and looked at the mileage. I drove home the exact same route and saw the return mileage was a tenth of a mile greater. This freaked me out a little since I hadn't been aware of any time/space portals in my neighborhood.
DAY 4
I went to see “Guardians of the Galaxy” with Nephew #3. When I tried to start the car after the movie, all the lights came on but with no power as the starter button flashed orange at me. I’m certain I broke my science-fiction rental car. "What did I screw up here, there are only like three steps," I thought. I asked my nephew why all of this was happening, figuring his mom and stepdad both drive Priuses (or is the plural form Prii?). He gives me a look from the passenger seat like, “I'm thirteen. What are you expecting me to tell you here?" He finally replies, "I have never seen this happen before,” which isn’t at all reassuring. I start to think computers and decide to try rebooting the car. It thankfully works. As we start driving out of the theater parking lot, I notice the air conditioning isn’t on and figure I probably pressed the wrong button when I was shutting the car down and setting it into park. Now I’m afraid to try adjusting anything.
DAY 5
I drove about eight miles through monsoon-level rain today, and learned two things: 1) Trying to look out the rear window of a Prius in heavy rain is probably about the same as trying to look through a submarine periscope during a hurricane. 2) When I have the wiper blades on full power and I’m waiting at a stoplight, the motion of the wiper mechanism actually ROCKS THE ENTIRE CAR. Unfortunately I now know my RAV 4 can take a solid punch without even deploying the airbag. This car now feels as fragile as an Easter egg.
DAY 6
I never get used to the feeling of waiting a stoplight, starting to move once the light turns green, and not hearing the motor. Every single time this happens I’m convinced the engine is going to die right there in the middle of the street.
DAY 7
It turns out the dashboard display will scroll though the titles of songs on the radio and the artists as they’re played. For a music nerd like me, this is far too big of a temptation, especially when I’m listening to a station like The Current that plays a lot of music not instantly identifiable. I’ve caught myself glancing at the display to learn the song title and the artist too many times, so I finally caved and changed the tuner to one of the homogenous radio stations that now refers to the music I grew up with as “classic rock.”
Since I wound up behind the wheel of this car because of someone else's distracted driving and I still have it for at least another week, I figure that’s probably for the best.
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