With regrets

I believe I would have greatly enjoyed meeting Mr. Varnedoe: 

"Modern art writ large presents one cultural expression of a larger political gamble on the human possibility of living in change and without absolutes, and also on the individual human consciousness, for all its flaws and deforming optics, as our prime resource and treasure."

-- Kirk Varnedoe

10:44:24 PM    comment []

Educated Lawnmower Man

Wow, next time I crab about the lousy job market, I’ll have to remember this poor fellow.

Imagine earning a PhD and not getting the time of day from academia for a job in that same field – for seven years.  Talk about class warfare!

And the man can quote Camus like I might quote my next-door neighbor.

What’s this world coming to?

1:56:42 PM    comment []

Gracefully

My son is not going to take this gracefully, I suspect.  Going back to school will be rough on him.  Particularly since he’s going to be in kindergarten for the entire day -- all day long.  It’ll feel like a life sentence.

Well, I guess when you’re five and you’ve got nothing but nineteen or more long years of this stuff ahead of you, it is a life sentence, every day dragging out before you.  Nah, I’m not going to tell him that much just yet; I’ll let him figure it out on his own the way my folks did with me. 

Sure, there’s a blessing in this change; he was accepted at the same school his sister has been attending.  He’ll be able to rely on seeing at least one familiar friendly face in the crowd once in a while and at the beginning and the end of the day.

On the other hand, that familiar friendly face is growing up quickly and getting a pre-teen attitude.  She’s on the verge of denying us as parents, let alone her brother as kin.  It could get ugly the first time he is dissed by her at school.

He’s dragging his feet this morning, not wanting to run off and play with friends like his sister already has.  She flew the coop as quickly as possible this morning to take advantage of this last few days of freedom.  Son-of-mine is taking advantage of it, too, but in a different way.  He’s lounging about on the couch, playing by himself quietly with his action figures and a cardboard castle; he’s enjoying the quiet without a bossy older sibling punctuating his space with demands for obedience to her will.  It’s the last few mornings he can indulge in leisure time with me alone at home.  Next week I have to resume my role as evil-wicked-mother-from-hell, forcing innocent children to wear torturous clothing and scrubbing their faces and hands for bizarre reasons of health and appearance while goading them against their will into a building of torture.  No more of these sweet, leisurely weekday mornings.

A pink-and-blue cello bag of iced animal crackers has just been thrust unexpectedly in front of my nose, obscuring my view of my monitor.

Mom, I thought you could use a snack now.  You can eat these -- here.

He won’t be the only one who won’t make the change gracefully.

11:13:34 AM    comment []