301NIB

No such thing as bad student. Only bad teacher

2012-02-06T09:09:00.008-10:00

Last week I received copies of my student evaluations from last semester. At my current college, student still have to fill in bubble sheets and write in the comments box, rather than being able to type them on the computer.

The student comments here are not as loquacious, nor as mean-spirited, as ones I received at a previous institution. But when I first arrived here the gist of the comments was exactly the same, "the professor is arrogant, rude, condescending, he doesn't respect the students."

But after three semesters, I've learned my lesson. I no longer ask students to show up on time, or to refrain from talking or texting in class. I allow them to re-take tests for any reason. When they make inaccurate comments in class, I praise them for their insight. When they miss deadlines, I give them a second chance. And then a third. When they don't want to purchase the reading or check it out from the library, I scan it and make it available online for their convenience.

And by doing all these things, I've shown how much I care about the students and the learning process.

The following comments are response to the prompt:

What were the strengths and/or weaknesses of this course?

He seems better than what I've heard about him in the past.

(The Professor) is very knowledgeable on the material, but can be intimidating.

The course is very difficult. The instructor struggles to offer help to those who need it. Attitude effects everything for both student and instructor.

Strengths - the teacher make the subjects very interesting and is easy to pay attention too.

He really talked at us didn't really seem to care if we understand or want to input our own thought in class. Because of this class I hate history a lot more. There was no interactions and too many students in class.

A lot of discussion learning and note-taking.

Strengths - notes were based on what we needed to know for the tests.

Tests are not over class material.

He is one of the best teachers I have had here because he challenges me to do good and I am always engaged in class.

I think as a lower level class, he treats it as an upper level class. Maybe to slow down a bit and explain things a bit more.

No strengths.

The best instructor/class I have this year. I have no qualms about the class.

Very hard class.

He is my favorite instructor because his lectures are helpful and intelligent.

It was the most boring History class I have ever been in.

(The Professor) is very knowledgable and structures his class in a way that makes sense to students. Compared to what I've heard from other students, he seems like the best World History teacher on campus.

The lectures got really boring after 30 mins so if you could break up the class with some activities that go along with content.

He was able to make this class very interesting and held my attention for a long period of time.

Learn history.

Strength - a lot of information, interesting stories, learn a lot in this class.

I didn't feel I learned anything relevant in this class, even thought its a gen ed.

Always learned something new.

Strengths are you learn a lot. Weakness is it's super-hard and you ask a lot of students.

Give books that students are into so then they will like the class. Also get to know your students. I felt like you didn't care about us.

My strengths were the tests and my weaknesses were the reading quizzes.

It was a great class and I learned a lot. It's challenging, but good.

The teacher should do more than just stand in front of class and talk. NO body learns well that way.

Keep on keepin on (professor.)

December 2011

2012-01-03T14:10:00.005-10:00

Since Luke's birthday was the same day as Merissa's wedding, we celebrated a week early.

The nieces and nephews all lined up outside the Sacramento temple, waiting for Merissa and her husband to emerge after the wedding.

Merrisa holds Kate at the wedding reception.

The family right after blessing Kate at Suzi's house.

Celebrate Canadian-American Heritage month

2011-09-27T06:41:00.002-10:00

Here is my latest submission to the student newspaper, which will run as a guest column next week:

Remember to celebrate Canadian-American Heritage Month

There is a shadow rising in the Northeast.

Like a dark cloud it looms on the horizon, threatening to engulf our fair campus and blot out every shred of decency and humanity here at the college.

It is the spectre of Anti-Canadian intolerance.

As a Canadian immigrant, I have watched this growing trend with concern. It began with Professor Pamela Everett’s vitriolic Wayne Stater article, which expressed her irrational prejudice against the great sport of hockey. As part of her nonsensical ramblings, Everret claimed that Canadians have lower IQ’s due to under-age consumption of Moosehead Beer. How absurd.

(Mmmmm….Moosehead).

More recently, protests over the proposed TransCanada pipeline have negatively affected local perceptions of Canadian-Americans.

For those of you unfamiliar with the issue, it’s really a simple misunderstanding. Canada is a nation with a small population and large oil reserves. We simply wanted to construct a pipeline that would allow us to share this abundance of natural resources with our American friends, thereby reducing your country’s dependence on foreign oil.

In return for this humanitarian gesture we’ve been labeled heartless corporate titans intent on destroying the environment.

Has the world gone mad?

The Anti-Canadian trend is a disturbing one, but together we can work to eliminate these hurtful stereotypes. Education is the Key.

It begins with a campus-wide effort to recognize October as Canadian-American heritage month.

You say you’ve never heard of Canadian-American heritage month? I’m not surprised. It was inaugurated in 1975 by President Ford, who apparently thought his home-state of Michigan was part of Canada.

Since then it has gone largely un-recognized, like the achievements of Canadian immigrants themselves. Canadian-Americans are all around you – we star in your movies, import your cheap pharmaceuticals, and pass the ball to your power-forwards.

The fact that we go un-noticed is largely due to our unique ability to integrate ourselves into your culture. It’s not as easy as it looks. Every Canadian that comes to this country has to learn to spell words like ‘colour’ withou a ‘u’, watch NASCAR, and figure out why Ryan Seacrest is famous.

As our two peoples have lived side-by-side, our histories have become inter-twined. It is a rich tapestry of international cooperation. Here are a few highlights of from the historical timeline of Canadian-American relations.

1755: The government of Lower Canada punishes disloyal Acadians by exiling them to Louisiana.

1776: The first United Empire Loyalists depart for Canada after Jefferson declares the birth of a new society, founded on the ideals of, “life, liberty, and watered-down beer.”

1812: Canadian troops invade Washington D.C. and capture the White House. James Madison makes a daring escape attempt, but is intercepted by Rear Admiral George Cockburn, who bodychecks the President into Dolly Madison’s favorite china hutch.

1876: Alexander Graham Bell, a Canadian inventor based in Boston, patents an early version of the telephone. The next day, he and his assistant Thomas Watson also call in the first fake traffic report to a local radio station.

1891: Canadian-American teacher James Naismith invents the game of basketball at Springfield College in Massachusetts. The sport was an instant hit with American children who lacked the dexterity necessary to play hockey.

1961: After losing a bet to Canadian Prime Minister John Diefenbaker, President Kennedy signs an executive order requiring all Americans to refer to ham as, “Canadian Bacon.”

2015: In recognition of the outstanding contributions of a fine Canadian-American, President Curt Frye re-names his fine institution, “Wayne Gretzky State College.”

The Summer of Shane

2011-08-04T14:57:00.013-10:00

Do you know any Mormons? (Part III of III)

2011-06-23T16:39:00.003-10:00

Gradually, over the course of the week, I became aware that Manhattan had very strong opinions on nutrition.

This became apparent due to the massive amounts of food available to readers each day. The company’s strategy for keeping readers awake and alert was to ply us with large amounts of sugar and caffeine. Each day at the center of the table there were bowls of treats – licorice, pretzels, hard candy, fun-size chocolate bars, and assorted nuts.

During the fifteen-minute morning and afternoon breaks, we would march down to a food court area and select from a variety of treats: muffins, donuts, granola bars, fruits, even hard-boiled eggs. There were also large coolers of fruit drinks, bottled waters, and pop to choose from. Quite often we’d grab something extra at break and take it with us back to the table.

One day as I returned from break and set my pop down on the table, I noticed Manhattan staring at the drink with disgust. Naturally, I pressed the issue:

ME: Would you like one?

MANHATTAN: No way – why do you put that poison in your body?

ME: Because I like to party.

MANHATTAN: Do you know how much corn syrup is in that soda? I never drink or eat anything with corn syrup in it.

ME: I don’t think your body can tell the difference between corn syrup and cane sugar.

MANHATTAN: There’s a big difference. Corn syrup tricks your body into wanting more and more of it. It’s more difficult for the body to digest, so it just becomes fat. And it’s in everything, most chocolate is made with it, it’s in most candy, and pastries. If you start reading labels you’ll be shocked – it’s used as a sweetener in almost everything.

ME: As a person from Nebraska, I find your anti-corn rhetoric very offensive. You’re creating a hostile work environment that’s affecting my ability to grade effectively.

MANHATTAN: It’s not a joke. And don’t get me started on ethanol subsidies. We’re all forced to buy ethanol, which is bad for the environment and bad for our vehicles, just so farmers have an excuse to grow more corn. I thought this was America.

ME: (confused now that this Eastern Liberal sounds like a member of a Montana militia.) Uh…

At this point we both realized that the break had been over several minutes and everyone else was grading and waiting for us to be quiet. This would happen several times over the course of the week. Most of the graders there were high school teachers who took pride in finishing a set quota of exams every hour. Me? Not so much. Put me next to an extremely chatty person like Manhattan, and production suffers.

Once, as I was trapped into listening to Manhattan’s ideas on fitness, the guy next to me (a former marine from Florida) whisper-yelled at both of us, “Why don’t you two talk outside?! The rest of us don’t care if you’re here or not!”

A few minutes later he left the room. When he came back he apologized for talking to us like children. Manhattan was fine, but I couldn't stop crying.

At the end of the afternoon break someone from another table brought by a huge container of Red Vine licorice and invited each of us to take a few pieces. I took my share, but Manhattan declined.

ME: Let me guess, corn syrup?

MANHATTAN: Did you know that human beings now eat so much corn, scientists are starting to find traces of corn in our DNA?

ME: That’s bad. I don’t even like finding traces of corn in my kid’s diapers.

MANHATTAN: If this pattern continues, in a few thousand generations we will have turned ourselves into corn.

ME: Those are some convincing arguments.

MANHATTAN: I know I’m going on and on about this…but I try to convert people whenever I have the chance.

ME: (seeing an opening) Convert – that’s an interesting choice of words.

MANHATTAN: Not in a religious sense. I just think everyone would be a lot better off if they lived life the way I do.

(long awkward pause)

ME: I guess we’ve found your belief system.

MANHATTAN: It’s not a belief system, it’s just exercise and nutrition. It makes me feel better.

ME: Would you say that it gives you a sense of fulfillment?

MANHATTAN: It’s different.

ME: No, it’s exactly the same. Your nutritional requirements provide you with a basic code of behavior. It creates a sense of community by separating believers from non-believers. You take the gym as your place of worship, where you follow the teachings of your personal trainer-prophet to keep you on the path to salvation.(grabbing a piece of licorice)….

MANHATTAN: You’re really going to eat that?

ME: Why? Is it a sin according to your belief system? (shoving five pieces of licorice in my mouth) Am I sinning right now? Are you trying to save me?

MANHATTAN: No, it’s not like that.

ME: It’s okay. Just admit that rational intelligent people can have a belief system like the rest of us. You’re a fitness fundamentalist. You’re a fit-mentalist!

MANHATTAN: I am not a fit-mentalist.

ME: (feeling really smart) Not that it matters to me. Mormons are generally very accepting of other’s beliefs – just remember you can’t force the rest of us to believe in your god. Everyone has to choose their own path to salvation.

MANHATTAN: You’re Mormon? No….you’re not.

ME: Oh yeah. I even served a mission.

MANHATTAN: Why didn’t you say anything earlier?

ME: Well, once I realized you were an Eastern Liberal elitist, I didn’t know how you’d react. I was expecting a little blowback from the Prop 8 episode.

MANHATTAN: I’m actually more of a conservative.

ME: No…you’re not.

MANHATTAN: Oh yeah. I’m a die-hard capitalist. I voted for McCain in 2008.

ME: (Suddenly feeling less smart) I see.

Thankfully, Manhattan took it all pretty well. In our few remaining conversations, I tried to point out that the Mormon community did have some variation within it, even if most of us do look like IBM corporate clones. I also mentioned how the Church had changed since its founding – abolishing polygamy and reversing racist policies – and that it would continue to adapt in the future.

Since leaving the conference, I doubt that Manhattan has given much serious thought to either Mormons or Fit-mentalism, but who knows?

I, on the other hand, find myself constantly checking the ingredients of various food items, looking for high-fructose corn syrup.

It’s in everything.

Do you know any Mormons? (Part II of III)

2011-06-23T06:40:00.001-10:00

For two days I thought about how to re-visit the topic of religion, in part because I wanted to know if Manhattan had any real experiences with the Church, but mainly because I wanted to see if I could get her to spout more Anti-Mormon rhetoric.

Finally, an opportunity presented itself when there was a temporary breakdown in the supply chain that delivered boxes of exam booklets to each of the tables. We found ourselves sitting around with nothing to do for several minutes. While I was elated to have a break from deciphering the handwriting of fifteen year-olds, Manhattan seemed quite annoyed at the interruption.

MANHATTAN: I can’t believe we’re out of booklets. What’s going on back there?

ME: I don’t know, but I’ll bet the Mormons are behind it.

MANHATTAN: (rolling her eyes) I’m not prejudiced against Mormons. I think all religions are weird.

ME: So you’re not a religious person at all.

MANHATTAN: No, I don’t need some fake prophet to teach me the fictitious words of a god that doesn’t exist. Most of the world’s problems trace back to some form of religious belief.

ME: But doesn’t history also show that man is an inherently spiritual being? Humans have always sought out religion because it helps define us, give us purpose. We crave understanding about our place in the universe and our relationship with an Almighty. That need is as basic as food and shelter, and religion helps fulfill it.

MANHATTAN: I don’t agree. Rational thinking human beings should make decisions based on empirical evidence. I’m not going to organize my life around the precepts of an imaginary god. I’m only interested in things I can see, ideas that can be proven. The rest is all myth.

ME: Okay, so religion isn’t for you. But everyone needs a type of belief system that they use to make value judgments or set goals or measure success. So what have you developed to replace religion in that role?

MANHATTAN: I don’t have a belief system because I don’t need one. Like I said, any intelligent person should be able to make their own decisions without having to constantly wear some ideological strait-jacket.

It was all very disappointing. I had engaged the topic hoping for a diatribe against polygamy, discrimination against blacks, or perhaps even a fiery polemic on prop 8.

Instead, I had to endure a lecture on the Secular vs. Religious binary that you can get from NPR. Secularists are enlightened, intelligent, modern, tolerant, rational, and most of all – independent thinkers. Religious adherents (especially Christians) are backward, traditional, bigoted, emotional, irrational, and dependent on some form of televangelist (or conservative radio personality) to tell them what to think.

It was even more irritating coming from Manhattan, a proto-typical member of the Eastern liberal elite. After all, these are the people who constantly lecture the rest of us about every form of profiling and discrimination – against ethnic minorities, women, and especially the LGBT community.

Yet, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with dismissing anyone with strong religious beliefs as ‘stupid,’ or ‘weird,’ things you would never say about other groups.

(I should mention that I later learned Manhattan was not, in fact, a member of the Easter Liberal Elite that Glenn Beck has warned me about. Actually, she was an uber-capitalist, an Ayn Rand disciple who voted for McCain in 2008. Shame on me for stereotyping.)

But as I soon realized, Manhattan did have a belief system. It was far more rigid and confining than my own. And exposing it would be much more enjoyable than simply revealing to her that she had been making fun of Mormons while talking to one.

Do you know any Mormons? (Part I of III)

2011-06-18T13:34:00.005-10:00

Two weeks ago I went the AP world history conference in Colorado. This involved spending a week grading essays written by high school students hoping to accumulate college credit by passing the Advanced Placement exam.

For seven straight days I sat in a conference room with several hundred people, at a table with seven other graders, and read through essays about the Green Revolution for eight hours each day. In order to familiarize graders with the rubric and establish a universal benchmark, the testing company organizes you into partners. You each read the same essay, grade it, then discuss any variation in an effort to properly understand the test criteria.

Since you know you’re going to be spending the next seven days sitting next to this person, there’s a very good incentive to be civil and establish a working relationship. I tried my best to prevent myself from going into jerk mode, which is in fact my default setting.

My partner was a high school teacher from New York. Although she now lives somewhere in the suburbs, she was eager to associate herself with Manhattan by pointing out that she had been a student at NYU. Without any prompting from me, she unabashedly declared that she lived in the financial, intellectual, and cultural center of the universe, just as you would expect from any good New Yorker.

Fortunately, she also had sense of humor about herself and didn’t take offense at my initial sarcastic quips, or when I would refer to her as, ‘Manhattan.’ My experience with people from the Northeast suggested they are a little more verbose, but still I was a little shocked when she turned to me on the second day and asked,

“Do you know any Mormons?”

At first it seemed like too much of a coincidence. How often will someone that you just met ask you this type of question? On the other hand, it seemed unlikely that she could have figured me out so quickly. As I was hesitating on how best to answer, Manhattan hit me again:

MANHATTAN: I just read that Mitt Romney announced his candidacy for President, which started me thinking about Mormons. So, do you know any or not?

ME: Well, there aren’t very many where I live now. But yeah, I know a few.

MANHATTAN: They’re just so weird! Don’t you think they’re weird?

ME: No, they don’t seem that weird to me. How are they weird?

MANHATTAN: The whole ‘magic underwear’ thing. That’s not weird to you?

ME: (effectively suppressing a laugh) I don’t think that’s true. They don’t really think their underwear is magic.

MANHATTAN: Oh, yes they do! We have a Mormon teacher at our high school. She explained to me all about the underwear because some of the students had asked questions. She really believed it had special powers.

ME: Okay, but that’s not an unusual belief. Buddhists wear amulets that they believe radiate spiritual influence. Sikhs wear special loincloths that they believe offer certain protections.

MANHATTAN: Well, there are lots of other weird things about them. There’s a big Mormon church in my neighbourhood. I call it the ‘Mothership.’ They all flock there every Sunday.

ME: What's weird about that? Most Christians go to Church on Sunday. It happens all over the world.

MANHATTAN: They are not like normal Christians. They all look the same. They’re all blonde, and the men all wear white shirts and the women wear these flower-print dresses.

At this point it was very difficult not to burst out laughing. First, because Mormons DO all look the same. How many times have you been on vacation, seen a family and thought, “They have to be Mormon.” Pick up a copy of the May Ensign and look at the pictures of people who attended General Conference. Every one of them look like families that somehow time-warped out of a fifties television show.

But the most entertaining element was the hushed, conspiratorial tone Manhattan used to talk about Mormons. As though she was afraid that her son might accidentally bounce his ball into the church parking lot, wander over to retrieve it, and come home wearing a dark suit, carrying a copy of the Book of Mormon, and announce he was leaving on a mission to Bolivia

So I couldn’t resist any longer. I leaned over to her, and in a very quiet, serious, tone said:

ME: (looking carefully around the conference room) Do you think there are any Mormons here right now?

MANHATTAN: (shrugging) I don’t know. I suppose there could be.

ME: Well, they all look the same, right? We should be able to pick them out.

MANHATTAN: (annoyed now that she realizes I’m making fun of her) I said they all look the same where I live. The ones out here might look different, I don’t know.

At that point our table leader came by and we both felt like students who’d been caught talking when we were supposed to be reading about the New Deal. At lunch, I shared the conversation with an LDS friend. We tried to concoct several scenarios that would allow me to re-visit the topic and the most entertaining method for revealing to Manhattan that I was Mormon.

It would be a couple days before the subject came up again. When it did, it would go a direction I had not anticipated.

Lukey Fit

2011-04-11T14:29:00.001-10:00

Legroom

2011-04-05T16:46:00.003-10:00

I just attended a conference in Hawaii, which involved a grueling five and a half hour flight from Los Angeles to Honolulu. Every time I get on an airplane I run into the same issue. My legs are so long that I constantly have to adjust my posture in order to make them fit in between my seat and the seat in front of me.

On every flight the person seated in front of me attempts to recline, only to find that this is impossible because it would involve their seat occupying the same space as my kneecaps. They try to lean back a few times, check the reclining mechanism of their chair, and try two or three more times. Every time, the passenger eventually acknowledges the laws of space and time, and then gives up.

Until this latest trip.

On the LA-Honolulu flight I ran into the most determined individual yet. This passenger, we'll call him Golf-hat guy, since all I could see of him was his golf hat, decided to recline his seat. He tried, and tried, and tried, and - bless his little heart - he kept trying. I kept my knees firmly planted in the back of his seat and waited for him to experience enlightenment.

But he didn't.

Instead, he turns his body half-way round and says to me, "You need to get your legs out of the way so I can recline my seat."

After recovering from my initial surprise (this had never happened before) I felt a slight thrill. This wasn't a threat - it was an invitation.

Golf hat guy was taking it up a notch. He was saying, "I'm going to get what I want by being a jerk. I use this strategy all the time, because I don't have any social skills and so people give into my demands so they don't have to deal with me. That's how I go through life - I out-jerk people."

And while he was thinking that, I was thinking, "You think you can out-jerk me? Nobody can out-jerk me. I was elected as mayor of Jerk-town, but got recalled because the electorate realized I was a jerk."

You see, I spend most of my life fighting my natural tendency to be a jerk, suppressing it into a tiny ball of rage, which I carry around until I encounter someone like golf-hat guy. Then I release it.

So we had the following exchange:

Golf-hat guy: You need to move so I can recline my seat.

ME: Sure, just give me a minute and I'll detach my legs and store them in the overhead compartment.

Golf-hat guy: Well, I paid for my seat too and it's going to recline.

ME: We'll see.

Golf-hat guy: Yeah we will, because I'm going to call a stewardess and see what she has to say about this.

Then there was an awkward silence of a few minutes. I use this time to extend my legs so that now, not only can GHG not recline, but his seat has actually begun to lean forward a little. His threat of calling a stewardess continued to hang in the air, where it echoed like a threat to call a teacher, or the principal, or his mom. Perhaps it was this embarrassing realization that prompted the following attempt at reconciliation:

Golf-hat guy: You know, I'm not trying to be an a**hole here.

ME: I know. You probably don't need to try.

Golf-hat guy: This is a long flight and I paid for this seat and I want to be comfortable so I can go to sleep.

ME: Well then why don't I just punch you in the back of the head and then you'll be unconscious. I'll even wake you up when we land.

Okay, I didn't actually say that last part. I'm not the kind of jerk that threatens violence. Instead, I said:

ME: You think you're the only one who's uncomfortable? This is an economy flight - we're all miserable here. Deal with it.

But of course, he couldn't. Because jerks think they're special and want everyone to accommodate them all the time. He was upset, and so he was going to upset everyone in his vicinity until he got what he wanted.

So he complained to a stewardess. And he got upset when she told him she wasn't going to force me to move my legs. And he kept arguing until finally a woman in his aisle got so tired of his whining that she agreed to switch places with him so he would be quiet.

And when she sat down in front of me, I moved my feet under the chair so she could recline.

WGSC

2011-01-26T05:13:00.005-10:00

I'm considering sending this in as a guest column for the campus newspaper here. But first, I want to run it by some colleagues to make sure it won't result in an administrative order to attend a sensitivity training workshop.

A MODEST PROPOSAL

As a new faculty member, I'm constantly confronted with the same reaction when I proudly inform friends and relatives that I'm now an assistant professor of history at Wayne State College.

"Oh," they say. " I've heard of that school - it's in Detroit, right?"

I realize that WSC confronts many important challenges. The administration is working to improve infrastructure, bolster academic standards, increase enrollment, and deal with ongoing budgetary constraints. I feel strongly, however, that is time to put those secondary concerns aside in order to deal with the much more pressing issue - the fact that we are constantly confused with the much larger (and therefore less prestigious) Wayne State University. I also want to offer a solution - one that will help individualize our hallowed institution and also honour a hockey icon.

I propose that we change the name of our great school to "Wayne Gretzky State College."

The benefits of adopting this new moniker are obvious. First, it improves the brand without radically altering it - we just insert the word 'Gretzky' into the existing title. It could be the most successful marketing campaign since Kentucky Friend Chicken morphed into the younger, hipper, 'KFC'.

Second, it would undoubtedly improve our ability to recruit students from the Edmonton, Alberta region.

Most importantly, it increases our visiblity by linking WSC (soon to be WGSC) with the greatest hockey player of all time. After twenty seasons in the NHL, Gretzky claims sixty-one league records, including most career goals, assists, points, and most goals in a season. He won four Stanley Cups and eight Hart trophies as the league's most valuable player. The man scored fifty goals in thirty-nine games. In 39 games!!! The real question is not "should we rename the college after him", but "why haven't we done this already?"

Despite the tremendous advantages of such a move, I accept that there will be resistance from certain corners of the campus. Naysayers will point out the lack of a historical connection between Gretzky and the college.

Others might object on the basis that WGSC does not have a hockey team. Or an arena capable of hosting hockey. Some might go even further, arguing that northeast Nebraska has no significant in interest in hockey at all.

In actuality, each of these arguments are little more than a smokescreen for those people who don't want this college named after a Canadian. As an immigrant from the Great White North, I've faced similar instances of Anti-Canadian sentiment since leaving friends, family, and affordable health care back in my homeland.

Some of you will no doubt respond, "There's no discrimination against Canadians here at Wayne Gretzky State College. I treat Canadians just the same as I would treat anyone else."

But when was the last time you approached one of your Canadian-American professors and thanked them for an excellent lecture? Or offered to help with their photocopies? Or even just purchased a Snickers from the candy machine and delivered it to their office at 242 Connell Hall?
The first step towards correcting a problem is admitting that one exists. Let's be honest, renaming our college won't erase the suffering Canadian-Americans have endured for generations. It may be only one small step, but it's a step towards equality.

So if you believe America can one again live up to its founding principles, contact the administration and let them know that you want your voice to be heard. Send in a vote for Wayne Gretzky State College.

You'll be sending a vote for freedom.

Goodbye terrible two's?

2011-01-20T08:58:00.015-10:00

It's been awhile since I've posted but as most of you know life gets crazy sometimes and we can't all be great at keeping up with it. Hopefully this new year will give me a knew found desire to be totally organized and get everything done that is always waiting to get done. I can hope, can't I?
Our wild, adorable, determined, and amazing little Luke turned 3 on Dec. 17th. I know it's hard to believe but Luke has been waiting for his birthday since September. Jake and Meg both have birthdays in Sept. the 9th and 10, back to back. So Luke watched as they both got breakfast in bed, special dinners, special desserts and presents. After their birthdays were over you could just see the wheels turning inside his head, "o.k. it's my turn next, any day now." Day after day he proclaimed that it was his birthday, "where are my presents." Sadly this little boy had to wait a whole 3 months in agony until it was actually his birthday.
On Dec. 17th we woke LUke up by singing Happy Birthday! He was very excited. I had told him earlier that I was going to make him a special cake and he couldn't stop talking about it all day. He kept calling it his "special puppy cake."

Luke couldn't wait to eat it.

All through dinner Luke kept saying, "I'm done." and then he would try to open his presents. Of course everyone but 3 year olds know that there is a certain order to birthday dinners, dinner, cake, PRESENTS! After months of waiting it was now Lukes turn for presents. My parents got Luke a gift card to Target and we thought he would love an easle. Chalkboard on oneside and whiteboard on the other. He loved it alright, he loved writing on our leather couch with the chalk and he loved writing on our couches in the basement with the markers.

What kid doesn't want an awesome potatoe with accessories. If there's one out there I don't want to know them.
Along with the new Toy Story 3 DVD and Don't Break the Ice game, Luke got something he has been wanting for, for quite some time. Everytime we'd go to Target and see a BUZZ LIGHTYEAR Luke would say, "Can I have Buzz if I go poo poo in the toilet?" (no, of course we don't bribe our kids to get them to do what we want) But if everyone must know Luke did get BUZZ, and it was just a coincidence that he finally pooped in the toilet and had a birthday at the same time.

We are so blessed to have Luke in our family. He keeps us on our toes that's for sure. As for those terrible two's disappearing I think they feel at home here and may stick around for another year. Luke is a fireball and the most persistent out of our 3 kids.(Shane and I are hoping that his persistent nature will be a strong attribute later in life, right now it's Lukes tool for wearing mom and dad down). Luke is full of life, fun and laughs, even at 3 he loves to be funny. He loves to read books, play games, be outside and wrestle.It's one of my favorite things to come home and have Luke run up, wrap his arms around my legs and say, "mommy, mommy I missed you." Life is good. We love you LUKE.
p.s. Here is a sample of Luke via video clip of the things he is capable of on a daily basis.

The Joy of Luke

2011-01-18T14:55:00.001-10:00

2010-12-28T10:42:00.005-10:00

Thanksgiving with the Strate's

2010-11-29T09:03:00.018-10:00

Like most families we couldn't wait for Thanksgiving break. Our break began with two sick and grumpy kids. With the onset of cold weather I had been constantly warning the kids that if they didn't stay bundled up and then got sick, that they would be in big trouble. Well even if your kids do listen, sometimes you still can't prevent those unwanted icky viruses from showing up.

Sick kid #1
Luke has been suffering with his flu symptoms for about a week now. These symptoms include cough, runny nose, sore throat, fatigue, and some gross goopy stuff coming from eyes. Now although neither Shane nor my self have been sick, we too have suffered. Parents of crabby and sick toddlers definitely suffer. Am I right?

Sick kid #2
Meg picked up Lukes virus on Thanksgiving day. She awoke to a very sore throat, the rest of the symptoms showed up later in the day. For some, feeling completely run down and sick may prevent you from eating, but as most of you know Meg has a special relationship with food, to miss out on a Thanksgiving feast would be an abomination. How could one possibly let a little thing like a flu virus come between them and feasting. She's a trooper.

Healthy kid #1

Jakes Thanksgiving break consisted of snacking, t.v, video games, snacking, t.v, video games, watching football with Dad and winning his very first game of settlers. And one very important task of babysitting while Shane and I went shopping on black friday. This may sound like an easy task since everyone should have been asleep while we were gone, but Luke could not let that happen. As I'm standing in a very long and hostile line at Target I can barely make out the ring of my cell phone. I thought "who could possibly be calling me at 4:30am", my phone says "home", a very tired Jake is on the line and is asking what to do b/c cause little Lukey will not go back to sleep. (Luke was apparently startled when he came into our room to use the bathroom and found a sleeping Jake). So I did what every good mother would do, I told Jake to turn on cartoons, problem solved. Thank you NickJr.

Healthy parent #1
Shane was very excited for Thanksgiving break. This break meant no classes, no whiny students, lots of football, sleeping in and of course good food. Well his weekend included some of these elements but also a few others. For instance conducting a funeral for a woman whom He didn't even know was definitely not on his list. Waking up at 2:45 am to go and wait with a crazed mob at Walmart for the electronics dept. to open would normally never ever be on his list. Carrying a kicking,screaming, sick kid out of DQ, well that's always on the list. Sleeping in is always on the list but never checked off. With all the mayhem Shane managed to get a little football in. I tried to cuddle up to him between cooking dishes but his love for watching his disintegrating Cowboys prevented me from capturing his full attention. T.V., my friend and enemy.

Healthy parent #2
Besides taking care of sick kids, I found time to cook our Thanksgiving dinner. I prefer turkey but apparently my whole family likes ham, so ham it was. It was one of those yummy foil wrapped hams from Sams Club. I made the mistake of making my pie crusts and pies the day of, so dinner was a little later than planned, but still scrumptious.
Unlike Shane, the black friday sales were definitely on my list. Spending and then saving as I'm spending are two of my very favorite things. I chattered on to Shane that morning as we drove 40 minutes to the designated Target and Wal-mart. I gave detailed instructions to Shane, his mission, Wal-mart and he was going in alone. He didn't respond as I explained his mission, just stared blankly at the road. I think he may have been tuning me out b/c instead of getting the train set for Luke, he bought several bags of chocolate.

Besides my shopping on friday morning the only other time I left the house was to the gym. A 9 mile run is just what my body needed after gorging myself on food and many treats.

I had to stay home on Sunday with our sick kids, so I spent the time listening to Christmas music and putting up our decorations. Fun, Fun, Fun.

Despite some hiccups in our weekend plans we still had a great time being together. The only thing our holiday lacked was family and good friends. We missed you all. Happy Holidays

p.s. Luke is perking up a little, can you tell?

Pale Green Pants

2010-11-18T10:40:00.007-10:00

One of my favorite things to do as a mom is read to my kids. With each one I have read to them from birth. Shane use to tease me when I read to Jake as a tiny infant. He didn't think it could possibly make a difference when Jake could barely open his eyes. Once Jake (at a very early age) proved that he loved books, Shane did not tease again. I wanted one of their earliest memories to be of books. Both Jake and Meg love books. They don't just love books, they adore books, they can't get enough of them. To be honest their reading comprehension is much better than mine. They are always quoting random facts and when I ask where they learned it from, 90% of the time it has come from their reading. They are amazing and I hope that Luke will follow in their footsteps. I think he just might.

After lunch each day Luke and I sit in our reading chair. It is a very comfy chair and pleasing to the eye.(At least mine anyway) Luke grabs a blanket and a pile of books and we read until nap time. It's probably his favorite part of the day, aside from hockey, wrestling and snacking. His favorite book for several months now has been a book about a mischievous little puppy named BISCUIT. A darling book for a 2 year old boy. His new favorite book caught me by surprise. You wouldn't think it would be a favorite but it has now become Luke's. Some of you might remember this story from Dr. Seuss. it's called "What was I Scared of?" It's an odd tale of a pair of pale green pants with no one inside them. I thought a very odd thing to write about but Luke loves it. I'm not sure he quite understands it but he loves the fact that these pants, with no one inside them is chasing the Dr. Seuss character.

An excerpt:

I said, "I do not fear those pants with nobody inside them." I said, and said, and said those words. I said them, But I lied them.

I'm almost sad to think of Luke learning to read, then our reading time in our very comfy chair will be over. For now I'll take every chance I get to read to my little Lukey. He won't be little much longer.

Invention Convention

2010-11-08T13:36:00.012-10:00

The fifth graders at Wayne Middle School were recently given an interesting project, they were to invent something. Their directions were to think of an idea, create a poster about it and then make a proto-type if possible. At first I thought it would be easy. Meg and I are smart, of course we could think of something creative. After racking our brains for about an hour we came up with a super idea that is sure to bring our whole family financial security for life.

The PROBLEM....

Impossible to get all the peanut butter out of the jar.

SOLUTION.....

A jar with no bottom, but two tops. Once you've gotten all of the peanut butter out of one side, you can flip it over unscrew the other lid and get the rest of the contents out. (I thought we should put a zipper down the side, but I guess Megs idea was better. She's very difficult to work with) So the TWO TOPPER was born.

Here's Meg at the convention. Each fifth grader had to sit at their station and present their ideas to all the parents. Meg was super excited about this, as you can see.

After the convention all the parents were treated to a musical performance by the fifth grade band. Meg plays the flute and is awesome.

If you are at all interested in purchasing the TWO TOPPER you will be happy to know that all proceeds go to a very good cause. US!

Halloween in Nebraska

2010-11-01T04:10:00.012-10:00

We had to make the traditional carmel apples. They were oh so delicious. Shane was not at home but we saved him one. He didn't eat it right when he got home that night, so the next morning it was fair game. It was a super healthy breakfast for me.

We all had so much fun carving pumpkins this year. Luke helped out by removing one pumpkin seed at a time from Jakes pumpkin and then with each extraction, "ewwww, gross."

And no, we didn't go super high-tech and get a book with pumpkin carving pages. This was all free hand.

The best part of Halloween is always the kids dressed in their costumes. Luke wanted nothing more than to be Buzz lightyear (it had nothing to do with the fact that we already had the costume from when Jake was a toddler). At first Luke thought you were supposed to say Trucks or Trains and then after some lessons from Jake and Meg he learned the proper phrasing. Meg wanted to be a devil but the costume I bought her at Walmart was not satisfactory, so she ended up being a pirate. Jake went super easy, a ghost. Most of the night while trick or treating he just had the sheet propped up on his head like a scarf. Now after all the hard work Shane and I have put into this fall season each of the kids have to pay up. Half their candy will suffice.

The Little Bighorn

2010-09-05T14:23:00.007-10:00

The drive from Alberta to Nebraska took us past another national monument site. If you take Interstate 90 southeast of Billings Montana, you'll drive right past the historic location of the Battle of the Little Bighorn. In the 1870s, the US cavalry had declared war on several rogue Indian tribes who refused to abandon their culture and settle on the reservations. Foremost among them were Sioux tribes led by Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse.

In 1876, General Armstrong Custer led the US Seventh Cavalry along the Little Bighorn river in the hopes of ambushing the Sioux. He expected to find only a few hundred Sioux, and instead found an encampment of close to ten thousand. What followed was one of the most one-sided clashes in the history of the Indians wars. Armstrong and all his men perished in a battled celebrated among Native Americans to this day.

The visitor's center has displays on frontier life in the 1870s, weapons and dress of the Sioux Indians, and this display on the life of George Armstrong Custer.

Vistors to the Little Bighorn can take a walking or driving tour of the battlefield. This spot informs visitors about the skirmish between cavalry and Sioux on Calhoun's hill.

As you walk through the battlefield, there are small headstones that commemorate the place where cavalry were killed by Sioux warriors.

Uh...

Devils Tower

2010-08-21T06:29:00.010-10:00

On the drive from Alberta to Nebraska we made a little detour to the northeast corner of Wyoming, where we stopped at Devils Tower national monument.

"Hey, Devil's Tower is no reason to take out my paci, okay?"

It looks just like all those models I built with my mashed potatoes.

Devil's Tower is a hotspot for rockclimbers. You can see the guide in the higher ledge, and then two people down below him.

There is a hiking path that goes all the way around the monument, but woe to anyone who gets closer than that.
Sturgis, SD hosts a motorcycle festival in the second week of August every year, and so there are thousands of bikers in the region. But they're not mean bikers. They're more like senior project managers who ride Harleys on the weekend.

Alberta: Waterton's Cameron Falls

2010-08-18T14:17:00.001-10:00

Alberta: Hiking Chief Mountain

2010-08-18T03:46:00.010-10:00

The goal.

The Rock Scramble.

McSweeney bogarts the beef jerky.

The agony of the screet.

Approaching the summit.

The Glory.

The long walk home.

Alberta: Red Rock Canyon

2010-08-02T06:46:00.006-10:00

This year the parking lot is under construction, so we had to drop off the family a few hundred yards away and they hiked in. Then Spencer and I had to drive a mile down the road to park the car in a clearing, and walk back.
Hiking up the canyon towards the slide.
Jake and Nolan trying to climb just high enough to injure themselves when they fall.

Meg contemplates whether to go down the slide while Patrice stands in the glacial water and awaits the onset of hypothermia.

Alberta: The Gopher Slayer

2010-07-30T05:25:00.001-10:00

Alberta: Chocolate and George

2010-07-29T08:22:00.006-10:00

The kids riding horses at my parent's place in Magrath.

13.1 miles

2010-06-24T10:14:00.003-10:00

For the past few months, Kaddi has been training for the Utah Valley half-marathon, which she ran two weeks ago. She finished the 13.1 miles in 2 hours and 25 minutes. We couldn't be more proud of her.

Wayne America

2010-05-30T16:46:00.005-10:00

Last week I accepted a tenure track offer from Wayne State College in Nebraska. I'll be the non-western historian in a department of four historians, four political scientists, and two geographers.

A few weeks ago I traveled out to Wayne to interview. Here's a few pictures from the trip.

On the drive from Omaha to Wayne, a scenic spot overlooking the Missouri River Valley.

One of the red-brick streets near the college.
The social sciences building where my office would be located - I hope I have an office.
The administration building at the entrance to Wayne State College.

ESL

2010-04-17T07:44:00.003-10:00

This morning I received the following email. It's from a foreign language student who's concerned about the material on the 'review sheet.' At least, that what I'm hoping he was trying to write.

Dear Professor,

Hey I am sorry to bother you. I lost my review shit and I do not remember how much of the new information and old information is coming in the test. If I am correct I need to study everything. Is that correct?

And once again I'm reminded of my experience in Thailand, wondering how many time I said similarly offensive things and people were too embarassed to point them out to me. When you're a cultural outsider you can get away with a lot.

Retro Photo

2010-04-06T15:43:00.003-10:00

Today my dad emailed me a few photos from years gone past. Angela's hair might be even better than mine.

Jake on the boat at St. Mary's reservoir, Summer 1999.

Angela and I getting ready to climb Chief Mountain, 1988?

The Griswold family vacation at the Grand Canyon, summer 1986.

So Jake

2010-03-21T16:33:00.001-10:00

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

I love bell peppers

2010-02-16T15:31:00.001-10:00

Make photo slide shows at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Kaddi's Shoes

2010-02-10T16:53:00.005-10:00

These are my shoes. They are my running shoes, at least that is how they were labeled at the runner's store. Yes, they have been running shoes, but they have also been walking shoes, jogging shoes, and tennis shoes. Sadly, none of these quite describe what they have been in the past several months: space shoes. This means that their only current purpose is to take up "space" in my closet. I have felt quite guilty about this for some time now, especially since I belong to a gym and our winter was not the only excuse for my laziness.

Although this guilt has been building and festering, it hasn't been enough to get me up and out of my bed at 5:30 am. Yes - 5:30 AM is the only time I can exercise. Last year when I joined the gym I did quite well at getting up this early. Mainly due to Shane's taunting if I didn't get up. If the alarm went off and I failed to rise he would make some comment like, "what happened, did the power go out and the alarm not go off?" To make the sarcasm cease I got up. (Unfortunatey this did not make Shane end his sacrasm in every other area of our lives, I'm still working on that one.) Once I stopped working out the sarcastic comments returned but they've had no affect on a sleeping Kaddi. I was as lazy as the days of summer. Yada, Yada, Yada fall came I got busy, Yada, Yada, Yada, here we are.

Here comes the point of my tale. Everyday I pick Jake up from elementary and take him to the Middle School for math and on my way for the past two weeks I see this banner. It's for the Utah Valley Marathon/half marathon. For those of you who do not know I have wanted to run a marathon for some time now and have yet to even come close. So, I've decided to split the difference and run a half marathon. Maybe if I can finish it then I can move on to the "real thing". So, I registered for the 13.1 miles of pain. I can't wait.

The purpose of this post is to hopefully give me the jump start I need to train. I figured that if I put my goal out there, into the cosmos where family and friends know then maybe I will feel more of an urgency to train, even if it has to be at the crack of dawn. If I fail and lay in bed day after day hitting the snooze button it can only be due to the lack of support and encouragement from those I care about. Seriously, I reasoned that if others knew my goal then that would give me the incentive I needed to train and finish my goal.

If there are any friends or family out there who will be in provo June 12th, run with me. It's "Pain YOU ENJOY."

One Weekend

2010-01-24T16:05:00.006-10:00

We had quite a weekend here.

The YM leaders in our ward have been encouraging the boys to memorize the duties of Aaronic Priesthood holders. Every week someone brings a cake as a reward to the person who can recite the entire mantra. A few weeks ago, it was Jake who successfully completed the task. Consumate showman that he is, he did it while drinking a glass of water and riding a unicycle.

Kaddi and Meg spent their Saturday building an igloo using small bucket sized snow-bricks. As you can see, their project was only half completed before the zoning commission came by and shut us down because we didn't have the right permits for an eskimo-dwelling on the property. I think someone in the local homeowner's association ratted us out.

And what was I doing during all of this? I really can't remember...

Timber Lakes

2009-12-06T12:37:00.007-10:00

This Thanksgiving we spent time with friends from California up in a cabin west of Heber City. There was much fun to be had.

Luke and Madison

Kaddi and an unidentified woman in a puffy coat.

Jake tears up the mud.

Brownies

Meggie and her snowman.

The Lecture

2009-12-03T10:33:00.003-10:00

Here's the internet feed for the International Studies Center lecture that I gave yesterday.

The Trauma of Lost Territory

After watching it I realized that the lights were set for someone shorter, casting a shadow on my face that makes me look like Nosferatu.

After the lecture was over, a kindly old lady came up and told me she really liked my sweater.

On the market

2009-11-14T08:44:00.005-10:00

The Ph.D. is finished, but in many ways it was a hollow victory. The real prize is the tenure-track job that would allow me to begin paying back all the money I've borrowed to get this far.

Last year I sent out six applications, and had one interview. With my degree complete, the total for this year is now twenty-six applications and counting. On Wednesday I had a videoconference interview with Zayed University, which went well despite the technical difficulties.

Below is a list of the universities where I've applied already (and a nifty map). Here's hoping the job market is kinder this year.

1) Kennesaw State University in Kennesaw, Georgia.

2) Empire State College in Saratoga Springs, New York.

3) Crichton College in Memphis, Tennessee.

4) Wayneburg State University in Waynesburg, Pennsylvania.

5) Zayed University in Dubai, United Arab Emirates.

6) Salem State College in Salem, Massachusetts.

7) University of Cincinnati in Cincinnati, Ohio.

8) Stonehill College in Easton, Massachusetts.

9) University of Wisconsin-Lacross in Lacrosse, Wisconsin.

10) Southern Methodist University in Dallas, Texas

11) West Virginia State University in Institute, West Virginia.

12) Monash University in Clayton, Australia.

13) University of Alaska-Fairbanks in Fairbanks, Alaska.

14) University of South Carolina-Salkehatchie in Allendale, South Carolina.

15) Montclair State University in Montclair, New Jersey.

16) Creighton University in Omaha, Nebraska.

17) St. Bonaventure University in St. Bonaventure, New York.

18) Berkeley College in New York City, New York.

19) Winthrop University in Rock Hill, South Carolina.

20) California State University at Long Beach in Long Beach, California.

Applications to be sent:

21) University of Delaware in Newark, Delaware.

22) Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah

23) Carleton University in Ottawa, Ontario.

24) University of Wisconsin-Stout in Menominee, Wisconsin.

25) Rice University in Houston, Texas (post-doc).

26) Valparaiso University in Valparaiso, Indiana (post-doc).

Scene and Heard

2009-11-09T09:46:00.003-10:00

A few days ago the following conversation took place at our home:

Kaddi: Jake's Scoutmaster just called. They need to meet at the church on Friday at 4 PM because they're going on an overnight campout.

ME: Super!

Kaddi: He's supposed to take a 'tin-foil dinner' with him. So, I need you to get on the internet and found out what that is.

ME: I don't need to get on the internet. I already know what's in a tin-foil dinner.

Kaddi: What's in it?

ME: It's just hamburger meat and potatoes and carrots wrapped up in tinfoil. Sometimes people put in onions for flavor. You stick it on the coals and let it cook.

Kaddi: That doesn't sound right. Will you just look it up, please?

ME: Kaddi, I've been on lots of these campouts. I've eaten plenty of tin-foil dinners. That's exactly what it is.

Kaddi: Well, he doesn't like any of those things. So use the internet to find a different kind of tin-foil dinner.

ME: (after checking several websites) Look, here's several recipes for tin-foil dinners and they are all some variation of the formula I already told you.

Kaddi: Why would anyone want to eat that? That doesn't make any sense. He's already going to be sleeping on the ground. It's going to be cold out there. And then he has to eat tin-foil hamburger? That's not any fun.

ME: (Knowing I should just keep silent but foolishly deciding to speak) No, it's not fun. It's camping.

Post-script: Jake did go to the campout with a tin foil package containing sirloin steak and some carrots. He did eat it. He did sleep on the ground in the cold. And he did have fun.

What is Jake supposed to be?

2009-11-02T06:28:00.003-10:00

Jake's Baptism

2009-10-22T09:35:00.005-10:00

(Jake with my parents)

(Jake with the Kaddi's sister Traci and her family)

(Jake with Kaddi's parents)

(Us)

Interception

2009-10-19T04:57:00.002-10:00

Jake's has found his new favorite sport this fall while playing flag-football. Given his height advantage the coaches generally try to use him as a wide-receiver, since he can reach up and catch the ball over the other kids. The only problem is that no one else on his team can throw it accurately.

This means that half of Jake's catches this year have been interceptions.

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Life's Better in Montana

2009-08-26T05:35:00.009-10:00

"I like can I touch"

2009-08-24T05:32:00.004-10:00

Here's some highlight clips from our family vacation in Whitefish, Montana. Most of the footage comes from a day at Tally Lake.

The vacation was not without controversy. The third clip of me throwing a football into the lake APPEARS to show my dad making an impressive catch. He holds the ball out of the water before he re-surfaces in order to sell it to the referees. However, when you stop the tape, you can clearly see the ball resting for a brief moment on the surface of the water.

I don't want to accuse anyone of Ratchmistruck-ing a pass and then pretending he caught it, but the footage doesn't lie.

I'll let you decide.

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

The internet is our campus

2009-08-11T11:10:00.005-10:00

Summer semester is finally over and now the grading begins. I went to lunch with a friend from the department who told me a great story.

Last semester in his World History course he assigned a final paper analyzing the novel 'Gulliver's Travels' as a historical source. When he began grading the papers, he noticed that three separate students submitted the exact same paper, word for word.

So he goes into class the next day and announces, without providing any specific details, that he has caught several students cheating. He offers a amnesty period for any student who comes to his office and confesses their crimes. They will still be penalized, but can avoid failing the course or being referred to the Ministry of Character Development.

Two interesting things happened...

First, instead of three students, he had over a dozen people (from a class of 150) come to his office to talk about their papers. This included people who admitted plagiarism, other worried they hadn't properly cited their work, and a variety of other concerns.

Second, the Gang of Three did put in an appearance. My friend interrogated each of them, certain that one person had actually written the paper and then shared it with his two buddies.

He was surprised to learn that the three students had not collaborated with each other. In fact, they had never met before.

But they did have one thing in common - they each decided individually to purchase a paper on Gulliver's Travels from the internet.

Gulliver's Travels is a very common book for this type of assignment, and there are probably hundreds of papers you can buy from various websites. These three bobbleheads just typed the title into google, then bought their paper from the very first website that popped up.

Let this be a lesson to all of you. If you're going to cheat on a term paper, at least take the time to re-type it using your own words.

You can't spell vacation without CA

2009-08-04T12:57:00.008-10:00

This summer Kaddi spent three weeks out in California visiting her family. Since I was locked into teaching Summer term I spent my days at the office and my nights alone, curled up in the fetal position chanting "Find a Happy Place, Find a Happy Place..."

Apparently all I missed was a lot of sitting on the stairs.

"Uh, did I say you could sit next to me?"

Is that in the syllabus?

2009-08-01T16:31:00.003-10:00

When I was first hired as a professor, the department told me to plan on teaching a 2-2-1 schedule. Two classes in fall, two in winter, and one during the spring/summer terms. I planned out my year accordingly.

Then towards the middle of winter semester, the dept. secretary told me they'd made a mistake, and that I was required to teach an extra course during spring/summer, making it a 2-2-2. Panic-stricken, I looked through my graduate school notes and tried to figure out how to invent a new course in a few weeks.

One of my fields for the preliminary exams at Wisconsin was 'Authoritarianism in Southeast Asia." So, I took many of those reading selections and slammed them into a seminar style course. Hoping to boost enrollment I even gave it what I thought to be a sexy title, "Dictatorship and Genocide in Southeast Asia." Six students found the morbid topic interesting enough to sign up, and this was more than enough to carry the class.

Because I didn't have the time or the knowledge to write thirty-five hours worth of lectures, I made the course discussion-based. As part of their grade, each of the students are responsible for presenting one set of readings and leading the discussion. We explore theoretical conceptions of power in Asia, the vulnerabilities of democracy, US foreign policy, and the natures of genocide, among other topics. For Friday's class we were exploring the book, "To Destroy You is No Loss," a fascinating first-person account of life under the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia.

Unfortunately, the student leading the discussion did not have the strongest presentation skills. He's uncomfortable in group situations, doesn't articulate well, and hates to have attention focused solely on himself. It's a lot like having Piglet in class. Everytime I ask him a direct question he begins with..."Oh, d-d-d-dear me...." He's so awkward it's almost charming.

As part of his introduction I asked him to generate a discussion explaining the difference between authoritarianism and totalitarianism. The students were using the terms interchangeably, even though they're quite different. Even though I had prepped him the day before, poor Piglet still managed to botch it.

He went up to the white board in front of the class, shaking like a young sapling on a blustery day, and drew two interlocking circles. I can only guess he meant to show how the two systems of government were similar, yet distinct simultaneously. Then he proceeded to label them, but because he was so nervous he didn't want to risk spelling one or both terms wrong. So, he abbreviated, writing only the first word for each system above the circles.

The he turned to the class with his voice quivering and stammered, "Okay...let's begin today by talking about T&A...."

He stands above it all

2009-06-09T11:20:00.004-10:00

I have spent a lot of time writing about Obama. I should restate that although I disagree with many of his policies, I think he's probably a very decent man, a brilliant politician, and may become a good President.

My fascination with the President is, and always has been, the unexplainable cult of personality that surrounds him. The National Press's fawning over the Obama campaign was something I have never witnessed in my lifetime. And it continues...

Case in point: Here is a clip of Evan Thomas, a senior editor at Newsweek magazine, displaying the send of professionalism, objectivity, and skepticism that characterizes the media's portrayal of the President.

I'm laughing through the tears

2009-05-15T13:15:00.002-10:00

Simpsons on Grad School @ Yahoo! Video

The Rehabilitation of Bush

2009-05-15T04:40:00.002-10:00

Ah, how quickly the pedestal of moral superiority has begun to crumble from beneath President Obama's feet.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, Obama spent his campaign identifying Guantanamo Bay as the symbol of the Bush administration's war crimes and American arrogance in general. On day two of his term, he signed an executive order to terminate operations in Cuba and close a dark chapter in the country's history.

As the Wall Street journal points out in today's article, however, there is an important difference between rhetoric and reality. What do we now do with the over two hundred detainees currently being held there? Democratic senators, most of home have spent the past six years criticizing the Bush administration for running a Cuban gulag, are now refusing to allow these prisoners to be transferred to their home districts.

And what about America's European allies? Now that Obama is in charge everyone in the world loves the United States. Does that translate into offers to help domicile the suspects at Guantanamo? All Obama heard on his rock star tour was non, nein, nyet.

Not that you can blame Democracts or the Euros. These are dangerous people, whose presence in the United States or anywhere would make a perfect target for a new terrorist attack - and they know it. That's why they've been kept in Cuba - because no one has been able to come up with a better solution

Now Obama may have painted himself into a corner. He signed an order to close Guantanamo without first coming up with a plan on how to do it. He was so busy touting his own virtue that he now risks looking incompetent. He will either have to back down from his pledge and risk admitting that the Bush administration was not Hitlerian; or go to war with his own party to force prisoner transfers to the United States. Neither option is very appealing.

I have a suggestion. If, as Democracts have been saying for years, the people at Guantanamo are not dangerous but simply victims caught in the massive Bush-Cheney dragnet, why doesn't Obama simply release them? Send them back to the caves of Afghanistan?

The answer to that questions unmasks the hypocrisy of the Democrat party, lo these many years.

Where's the Easter Beagle?

2009-04-12T17:33:00.009-10:00

On Saturday I was paroled from my dissertation writing long enough to go home and colour easter eggs with the kids. We all created designs based on things that we adore. Here's a breakdown of what was written on our eggs:

J-dog - I (heart) Audis
Meg - I (heart) Chocolate Cake
Luke - I (heart) being a bad baby
Kaddi - I (heart) Huckabees
Shane - I (heart) Zac Efron

The highlight of the evening was Jake taking the blue foil wrapper from his chocolate bunny and fashioning himself a 'grill'.

That's how he rolls.

Beets, Bears, Battlestar Galatica

2009-04-05T17:14:00.003-10:00

On April 1st I showed up at work to find the following photo plastered all over the history department break room and all down the hallway. It appears to be me and another professor (whose identity I have protected) frolicking along the beach on a sunny day. Right away my powers of deductive reasoning spotted it as a fraud.

Clue #1: I don't wear my glasses at the beach.

Clue #2: I appear to be holding hands with someone taller than me. I don't know very many people taller than me, except my brother-in-law. And we don't hold hands.

Clue #3. The person in the photo is wearing a swim diaper. I usually wear board shorts.

I need to give the department secretaries a lot more photocopying. Clearly they have nothing to do all day.

The Obama Overture

2009-03-29T17:09:00.002-10:00

As a semi-legal immigrant to this country I pay close attention to how the United States is perceived by other countries. The past eight years have been difficult in this regard, as the American brand has taken quite a hit overseas. The arrogant, unilateral, foreign policy of the Bush administration created the impression that the US govt will do whatever it wants,the consequences to other nations be damned. The invasion of Afghanistan, the Guantanamo detention facility, the secret meetings in Crawford, and of course the war in Iraq all contributed to this perception.

So like many of you, I eagerly anticipated the inauguration of Barack Obama as the beginning of a New Age in American foreign relations. Out with the Cheney-Rumsfeld cabal that had turned the world against the US; in with a kindler, gentler, approach to the world community. How could the world not love us once the Big 'O' was our President? After all, people were wearing his face on t-shirts from Jakarta to Nairobi.

And so far he has not disappointed. Obama is following through on his promises to shut down Guantanamo and pull the troops out of Iraq. He wasted no time in appearing on an Arab network to "reach across the gulf" and make friends with the Middle East. He even spoke to the people of Iran to in an attempt to stop all the fussin' and the feudin'. Now that the US rejects that false dilemma between national security and civil liberties, it should be smooth sailing abroad from here on out.

Watching these development, I couldn't have been happier - no more sewing a Canadian flag on my backpack when I travel to Europe or Southeast Asia!

And yet, the response from the rest of the world wasn't exactly what I anticipated. The Ayotollah responded to Obama's overtures by dismissing him as a puppet of the Jewish conspiracy that controls America, while thousands of Iranian supporters chanted 'death to America.' North Korea still plans on testing a long-range missile capable of hitting Alaska. Mexican-USA relations are shaky, as the Mexican government blames its cartel wars on American demand for drugs. European Union officials ignored Obama's request to host Guantanom detainees, then ripped the President for his trillion dollar stimulus plan.

(Of course, it didn't help matters that the White House honored Gordon Brown's state visit by presenting the PM with a DVD copy of 'Transporter 2.')

Still, I can't understand these reactions. We did what they wanted - throwing the neo-conservative war criminals out of office and electing a universally likeable minority. They should love us. Why don't they love us?!!

Then I started to do some historical research. Although results are still in the preliminary stages, there is strong evidence to suggest many foreign countries were criticizing the United States even BEFORE Bush took office. The US was attacked by Al Qaeda several times even during the Clinton administration. Jimmy Carter's "administration-of-love," resulted in the Iranian revolution and the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan.

All of this is very disconcerting. If foreign countries hated the US even before Bush's reign of terror, does that mean they might continue hating this country even with the hope-for-changeling in the White House? Does it mean they don't like me as a person?

No...no, that's just silly. It will change. Barack can do it. He's only been in office for a few months after all, and there's SO MUCH damage to undo from the previous administration. Once the world sees we're on the right track, they'll start to come around.

If we all just have enough faith...

Toppins a bag

2009-03-21T11:50:00.002-10:00

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Climbing the why

2009-03-21T09:49:00.010-10:00

My dad travelled down this weekend to spend time with the family - and by 'spend time', I mean - sit in front of the TV and watch the NCAA tournament.

Anyway, my dad is a son of the soil. His greatest joy is to be at one with the land. He's constantly outdoors exploring, biking, and camping. This morning he introduced me to a new activity that all the kids are into now. I think he called it 'hiking' (pronounced hyke-ing). Apparently...you just walk up the side of a mountain until you get tired, and then walk back down again.

The activity turned out to be expensive for Morg. Not knowing that Jake will do anything for money, he jokingly offered the boy twenty dollars to see it he had the stamina to go all the way to the top of the 'Y'. Jake was halfway there before my dad even realized he was gone.

Spinderella

2009-03-20T10:57:00.000-10:00

Luke gets a little carried away with the spinning chair routine.

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Finding Fulfillment

2009-03-06T13:02:00.003-10:00

I came into work late this morning. As I stopped into the history department office to pick up any mail, a colleague shared some good news. Mike, a student in his senior thesis class, had won a department prize for his paper discussing US involvement in Laos during the Vietnam war. As the department's Southeast Asianist, I had spent some time consulting on the paper. It was a strange new feeling to think I might have contributed in a postive way to a student's progression (instead of just intimidating them and destroying their self-confidence, which apparently is my usual contribution.)

Two minutes later I opened my office door and found the following note on the ground:

"Dear Professor,

My name is ________. I am in your history 201 class. I am stupid. I forgot the test ended at noon and wanted to beg you to let me take the test. (I was there @ 3 PM)."

*sigh*

I now pronounce thee Ratch and Rach

2009-02-24T13:27:00.004-10:00

Ahhh...my beloved blog.

It's been while since I've documented the random activities that are my life. I wish I could say it was due to spending more time on my dissertation, but other factors have played a role. Illness has been factor, we've been traveling and hosting visitors, and the kids activities never seem to end. Also, I now spend all my free time trying to develop hip-hop abs.

Last Thursday we spent fourteen hours in the car traveling to Alberta for my sister Rachel's wedding. I was sick with what I'm pretty sure was bronchitis. Kaddi was contracting my bronchitis. Jake spent the entire trip passed out on the back seat with some sort of viral infection. We have no idea what was wrong with Luke, but he would growl like a wounded bear cub for thirty minutes at a time. Somehow he made it all the way to Magrath, despite my repeated efforts to leave him at McDonald play-places in Idaho Falls and Helena.

(Meg was perfectly healthy.)

We arrived at the ranch shortly after someone detonated some type of bridal bomb, because the house was practically buried in wedding-related shrapnel. There was an altar covered with white lace in the front room, miniature trees with crystal hanging from metal branches on the table, and centerpieces everywhere else. All of it had to be loaded up into the trailer and transported to the wedding site. I started feeling less resentful of my fourteen hour drive when I realized that the rest of the family had been working on the wedding for months.

My assignment was to act as the Master of Ceremonies for the wedding reception. A simple task, really. Tell a few jokes, introduce the people at the head table, and allow my natural charm to shine through. As part of the festivities, I also wanted to present my my sister with the first of what would be many wedding presents. I spent weeks thinking of an appropriate gift. It needed to be something that symbolized the union of two families, and the beginning of a new era where bride and groom would place each other's needs before their own. Only one gift could accomplish all that and place the new couple on the path to marital bliss - an autographed photo of myself.

The actualy ceremony was a beautiful event. The hall of the Galt Museum in Lethbridge had been articulately decorated to resemble a winter wonderland. Through the enormous windows you could look down on the snow-covered banks of the Old Man River. As flower-girl, Meg preceded the bride and threw rose petals along the path. Rachel was radiant in her wedding dress as she walked to meet Paul at the altar, happier than I have ever seen her.

-------------------------

When I was in Alberta for Christmas I forgot my camera USB cord. I returned for the wedding in February and meant to retrieve it, but grabbed my parent's cord instead. Now neither of us can upload photos.

Here's a photo montage I lifted from my sister Angela's blog.

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Lincoln's Lessons for Obama

2009-01-20T17:56:00.007-10:00

As you have no doubt already been told by every newspaper, television channel, and radio broadcast over the last two months, yesterday's inauguration was a milestone in the country's history. Despite the fact the fact that I don't agree with Obama's election platform, the transfer of power was overall a very positive thing for the nation (despite the offensive and embarassing benediction).

Many in the media are criticizing the inaugural speech as uninspiring because it didn't generate the same type of arena-rock frenzy that accompanied Obama on the campaign trail. I disagree. I thought the speech was far more substantive than Barak's usual fare, indicative of someone who's shedding the empty jargon of candidacy to adopt the mantle of the Presidency. There was one line, however, that struck me as particularly naive:

"As for our common defense, we reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals."

It is expected for Presidential candidates to score cheap points by criticizing how a President prosecutes the war. Now that Obama is President he will confront the national security dilemmas that have plagued W for the past seven years. Obama is fond of associating himself with Lincoln. He would do well to familiarize himself with how Lincoln negotiated the path between security and liberty.

At the University of Wisconsin there is a statue of Lincoln that sits in front of Bascom Hall. Everytime I walked up that hill I would think of the irony. If Lincoln were President today, the students at UW would denounce him as a tyrant. On the sidewalks there would be graffiti stencils of his face behind prison bars with the words 'war criminal' underneath.

In the first two years of the War Between the States Lincoln was actively involved in military planning and helped make a mess of conflict. He was responsible for the deaths of more American soldiers than all other Presidents combined. We forget that Lincoln almost lost his re-election bid in 1864. A large portion of the North wanted to end the bloodshed and simply let the South go its way. The war simply wasn't worth the carnage.

Lincoln hired and fired Generals who were either incompetent or disloyal. General McLellan. General Burnside. General Meade. General Hooker. It was only after accidentally discovering the talents of Grant and Sherman that the Union's began to choke the life out of the Confederacy.

But it was on the domestic front that Lincoln really demonstrated his mettle. He suspended the writ of habeas corpus (which guarantees a prisoner can not be held by the government without trial) three times during the course of the war. He arrested members of the Maryland state legislature to prevent them from voting for secession. Under his watch the military arrested multiple newspaper editors and often prevented their circulation. And he approved the arrest of Confederacy sympathizers who spoke out against the war.

Lincoln did all this and more because he thought it more important to ensure the Union's survival than to live up to its guarantees. He was the most draconian President in the nation's history. Why then has history forgiven him? Because he won. Today, we view the preservation of the United States as an end worth the distasteful means necessary to achieve it. When enough time has lapsed, historians will come to see Bush's policies in a similar light.

I remember being in the Memorial library at UW at seeing a photo cut-out of John Ashcroft devouring the Constitution like Cookie Monster biting into a chocolate chip treat. A simple-minded approach to a very complex issue (but still funny). For the past seven years this has been the left's approach to issues like the Patriot Act and the detention facility at Guantanamo. Now these symbols of Bush's draconian regime become the priority of the Obama administration.

I'm willing to bet things don't look quite as simple today as they did yesterday.

A day of disappointment

2009-01-16T06:37:00.004-10:00

One thing I enjoy about working at a university is a good luncheon. Although adjunct faculty like myself are not always invited, we usually go anyway. If the gathering is large enough, no one knows we're not supposed to be there. These types of social events are extremely important opportunities for someone like myself, someone just starting their career. They are an opportunity to eat for free.

So you can imagine my glee when I checked my box one day and found an invitation to a Christmas luncheon for all college faculty. For the next two weeks I kept the invitation in my drawer. Periodically I would take it out and stare at it, imagining the day when my lunch wouldn't involve microwaved tomato soup or boxed Asian noodles from Wal-Mart.

At last the blessed day arrived. Knowing I would probably forget the location, I stuffed the invitation in my pocket and skipped merrily down the hallway to pick up my friend Mike. He was just as excited. It was like pretzel day at Dunder Mifflin.

As we walked across campus towards the conference center, I noticed there didn't seem to be many other professors headed the same direction. After all, there are several hundred faculty in our college. I checked the flyer to make sure we had the right building. Perhaps most people were just coming fashionably late.

Arriving at the banquet room, I immediately recognized it was much too small for a faculty gathering (I'm extremely perceptive about such things). "This can't be right," I said to Mike, "It must be another room."

"No, this is it," he insisted. "It's one of those luncheons where not everyone is here at the same time. People just filter in and out for a couple hours."

And with that remark, Mike officially became partially reponsible for what happened next.

So we went in and wandered around. I didn't recognize anyone for the first few minutes (I rarely do at these things) but began to relax when I saw another professor from my department talking with the Dean. We sat down at a table. Each place setting also had a gift-wrapped bag of what appeared to be Bridge Mixture. Oh, sweet chocolatey delight! This was going to be the greatest afternoon in the history of forever.

Mike and I were talking about our classes when someone stepped to the podium and began welcoming everyone. Although I wasn't paying close attention, I was certain I heard her say this was an "administration and staff" gathering. When I looked around the room, I noticed it had a distinctly feminine flavour. I didn't recognize any professors, but I did see all our department secretaries sitting at a table across the room.

Panicked, I pulled the invitation out of my pocket. The faculty luncheon was actually next Friday

Quickly, I whispered to Mike, "Let's get out of here - this is a staff luncheon." His face blanched.

But it was already too late. The blessing on the food had begun. We couldn't walk out in the middle of a prayer, and so we sat there in silent agony.

Unfortunately, this wasn't really a prayer. It was a commencement address offered with folded arms. I'm sure you have all witnessed something similar. The person giving the prayer knows they have a captive audience, and there's no way they're sitting down until they've discharged their mind on all matters great and small. Lincoln could have given multiple Gettysburg addresses in the time it took this woman to bless a few chafing dishes.

When she finally ran out of breath, we picked up our coats and started to get up. Another person began to speak. This time it was the Dean of the College. The Head Man Himself. The Lord over all Creation. Now, I am not the most politically astute of individuals, but even I know that walking out of a small gathering during the Dean's address is not the kind of facetime a young faculty member seeks. Not only is it impolite, but it was also an admission that we were too dumb to show up at the right luncheon.

We stayed in our seats thinking the Dean would simply wish everyone a Merry Christmas, thank them for a productive year, and close. Not so. This was apparently a vital opportunity to elucidate on the challenges facing the university, the college, and the departments, in that order. Budget expectations, counseling services, charitable activities...

And as we sat continued to sit there I noticed a small crowd forming at the door. People were walking through looking for a place to sit, and I became acutely aware that there were two less empty chairs than there should have been. I started to feel dozens of stares pressing down on me. Perhaps the college staff were a tight-knit group who immediately recognized me as an interloper trying to score a free meal. The room started to feel stuffy.

I kept telling myself to hold steady. Our survival lay in our anonymity. The speech would soon end, and we could merge into the traffice of people headed to the buffet and exit stage left. Just don't get flustered. If we took flight now we'd end up stuffed and mounted, two panicky pheasants brought down by the hunter's rifle.

But the speech didn't end. One topic led into another, as if this were a devotional and not a chance to get free food. With every stale anecdote the room got hotter, the stares felt heavier, and Bridge Mixture seemed to recede from my grasp.

Finally I cracked. We stood up and headed for the door, announcing our uninvited presence to everyone. I didn't care. The cool breeze on my face felt like sweet freedom. As we walked down the street I could the see the banquet hall through an outside window. The Dean was still talking.

I learned later that the professor I recognized was in attendance because she is now an Associate Dean. That was information I could have used a day sooner.

The rest of the day was long and dreary. Instead of ham and scalloped potatoes, I had a frozen burrito for lunch. Instead of celebrating the holiday season in my office, enjoying the companionship of a bag of Bridge Mixture (Mmmmm...so many flavours), I stood awkwardly in the break room while the secretaries laughed at my absent-mindedness.

Worst luncheon ever.

Snowtime

2008-12-24T07:24:00.003-10:00

Kaddi's sister Traci and her family came out to visit and pick up their son at BYU. Taylor just received his mission call to Brazil, and will be leaving for the Brazillian MTC in March. Meanwhile, Merissa and Kelsey got to spend time playing with Meg and Jake in the snow.

Meg with Kelsey

Jake, Taylor, and Merissa

Can I get 500mg of common sense?

2008-12-21T13:16:00.005-10:00

I have to admit that sometimes I get tired of being a stereotype. Kaddi is constantly bewildered as to how I can remember infinite numbers of names, dates, and events from history, but can't remember that ten minutes ago I left the tv remote next to the microwave. It is a serious problem, but one that I control using medication. Every so often, however, I experience a flare-up. Sometimes it occurs a rather public, and therefore embarassing, manner.

A few years ago one of these incidents occurred at Halloween. When we lived in Madison our ward used to organize a trunk-or-treat at the church. One year Halloween fell on a Sunday, so the member decided to hold the activity on the previous Friday instead. Everyone gathered in the parking lot to admire the children’s costumes (barely visible underneath their winter jackets) and exchange candy from the back of our vans. Since only a few families have young children, the entire operation takes about twenty minutes.

It’s difficult even now for me to explain what happened next. Perhaps I was feeling particularly festive. Maybe I was disappointed with the chocolate to crap-candy ratio in the kids treat bags. Whatever the reason, I decided twenty minutes of Halloween simply wasn’t enough. We’d invested in the costumes, the kids were already dressed up, why not knock on a few doors in the neighborhood?

The truly perplexing part of this tale is that those who should have been looking out for me allowed me to continue with my plan. I told Kaddi that I was taking the kids to do a little trick-or-treating and that we’d be back in a few minutes. She simply gave me a quizzical look and said, “You are? Well…okay.” I also remember telling Nivea-for-Tom to bring his young one along. He looked at me like I was an idiot before declining my offer. But did I let that bother me? Mine was the revelry of the blissfully unaware.

I’ll never forget the reaction of the lady at the first house on our route. When she opened the door to find two little kids on her porch asking for candy, her response embodied the civility and decency of the Midwest. “Oh,” she said, “Well…okay…I think I have some candy you can have.” Off she went into her cupboard, producing some Hershey’s kisses and dumping them into the kid’s sacks. No doubt she was taken with their overwhelmingly cute costumes and probably also felt pity because their father must have a severe disability.

We received the same puzzled but courteous greeting at the second house, but somehow still left laden with candy. It wasn’t until we were walking down the steps of the third house that my thoughts began to coalesce around a rather obvious conclusion:

“Hmmm…people sure seem surprised to see us out tonight. Huh, I wonder why there are no other kids outside. Well, it is pretty cold out here. Although it seems odd that no one else from church is knocking doors. Wait a minute..."

And then the little hamster started running in the wheel again.

"Oh...right. Halloween isn’t for…two more days.”

Immediately I had that same sickly feeling you get when you wake up at 9 AM and suddenly realize your final exam began at eight. Meanwhile, Meg and Jake, who were enjoying themselves immensely, were already half way down the block. I quickly called to tell them that we needed to head home because… mom wasn’t feeling well. Then I began the long walk of shame back to the church building, where I would face the ridicule of wife and friends alike.

I wish I could say that was the last such occurence. Sadly, I experienced another flare-up last week. Thankfully, my kids were not involved this time...

Because Need Knows No Season

2008-12-11T17:58:00.004-10:00

Christmas is a time to turn our thoughts to those less fortunate than us. Particularly the children whose parents can't afford to purchase them Video game consoles or new clothes, or sports equipment. This week I captured footage of a poor little boy who was kicking around a milk cartoon because his family couldn't raise the funds for a soccer ball.

Please watch the video and give generously.

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Preserve Us From the Wrath of the Marmot King

2008-12-10T13:35:00.004-10:00

In my world civilization classes I've consistently tried to stay on the cutting edge of instruction. Most history courses, for instance, focus solely on human interaction as an explanation for turning points in history. But avant-garde historians like myself recognize that animals can also be important actors on the stage of history.

For example:

You may not know that it was marmots who are partially responsible for the Black Death, which decimated the populations of China, Europe, and the Near East. Fleas spread the bacterium throughout the Central Asian marmot population, and some unfortunate Mongol hunter probably skinned and ate an infected marmot, thereby unleashing the whirlwind of pandemic. This much is widely accepted.

But here's what you won't read in your 'traditional' textbook:

At the end of the twelfth century an army of marmots, under the leadership of the legendary Marmot King, devastated Central Asia. They swept the peoples of the Golden Horde before them like a tidal wave. As they moved westward, the marmots cleverly formed alliances among other rodent populations, signing treaties with the porcupines and making vassals out of the Richardon's ground squirrels.

Once the rodents of Asia were united under the sovereignty of the Marmot King, they launched their attack of the great civilizations of Europe and the Islamic world.

In 1347, an army of marmots surrounded the Genoese port city of Kaffa, on the Black Sea. During the resulting siege, thousands of marmots died from the plague. The Marmot King then ordered their corpses to be placed in catapults and lobbed into the city in the hopes of infecting and terrorizing its inhabitants.

Marmot military tactics devastated their opponents. When the armies of the Marmot king faced the forces of Kwarizm near the Sea of Azov, marmot sappers went out to the battlefied the night before and dug thousands of holes in the field. During the next day's battle, when the Sultan's cavalary charged the field, the horses caught their feet in the burrows and came crashing down. The marmot infantry quickly fell upon the Persian cavalrymen and ate their livers.

The attrocities of the Marmot King were unspeakable. In Baghdad, marmot soldiers gnawed the eyeballs from the sockets of eight-hundred Muslim clerics after they refused to bow before the invaders. After their conquest of Kiev, the marmots forced the Russian princes to run continuously inside specially-constructed stationary wheels until they dropped dead of exhaustion. In Krakow, the Marmot king tried to blackmail a local newspaper into firing an editor, threatened to pull funding for a children's hospital, and requested bribes for appointing potential candidates to a vacant Senate seat.

In their search for a scapegoat, Europeans blamed their own rodent populations for conspiring to help the marmots conquer all of Christendom. They organized massive rodent pogroms, massacring the mice populations and burning thousands of rats at the stake. It was a dark time for Europe.

Just when all seemed lost, the great marmot hordes disappeared as suddenly as they had appeared. Historians are at a loss to explain why. My own research speculates that the Marmot King was poisoned by one of his captured concubines. Without his leadership, the alliances disintegrated and the rodent world was plunged into civil war. Europe was saved.

Perhaps I'll make this the subject of my next book project.

It's down to you, Green Mountain State

2008-12-05T07:02:00.003-10:00

Those of you who have your own blog know the joy of google analytics. The program allows you to track hits to your website and determine their location of origin. At 301NIB this information is very useful for following user trends. For example, last year a large percentage of our traffic came from Hawaii. But in the last few months, Utah has climbed into the number one user spot. This information helps our staff coordinate revenue projections and marketing campaigns.

Since its inception in 2006, 301NIB has quickly become a worldwide phenomenon. We consistently have visits from around the world, all ten Canadian provinces, and every state in the union...except one.

Vermont.

I confess I'm at a loss to explain this inattention, since I know very little about Vermont. Do I need to feature more content about Lake Champlain? Is it because there are less than one hundred thousand people living there? Or because they spend so much time outdoors? Do people there not have computers? And what do you call those people? Vermontites? Vermonters? Vermonties? Yeah, I like that last one...

Perhaps I'm obsessing a bit here, but I won't rest until I get a single hit from Vermont. That single white space on my analytics map needs to be shaded light green. So, this week I decided to call up the Green Mountain State to discover the source of the problem. The conversation didn't go as well as I'd hoped:

Vermont: Hello?

301NIB: So what's the deal, Vermont? You haven't checked out the blog.

Vermont: The what?

301NIB: Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. What - you think you're better than me, Vermont? Is that it?

Vermont: Who is this?

301NIB: You think just because you're the outdoor playground of the Northeast that makes you so great? Look, I may not be able to afford to vacation on your ski slopes or stay at your many bed-and-breakfasts, but I...uh...well, I forgot where I was going with this...

Vermont: (long pause) How did you get this number?

301NIB: Don't wory about it.

Vermont: (click)

So telephone contact didn't produce the intended results, but I'm confident Vermonties will give me another chance. And why shouldn't they? I've forgiven them for letting Howard Dean loose back in 2004. But I realized I needed to change tactics.

Here's the deal, Vermonties. In return for a hit from your state, I'm willing to make the following concessions:

1) I will agree to mention Vermont in no less than three posts during the 2009 calendar year.

2) I will purchase genuine Vermont maple syrup the next time we make pancakes for Meg.

3) I'll order a Vermont Teddy Bear as a Christmas present (and not return it).

This is a no-brainer, Vermonties. All you have to do in return is type in a website address, you don't even have to read the content. Face it, during this extended economic downturn it would be irresponsible for you not to accept my offer. The advertising power of 301NIB could increase your state revenues 15-20% over the next fiscal quarter alone.

You have my offer, Vermont. The ball's in your court. I'll be checking google analytics every hour, waiting for your response.

Girls only like Guys who have Great Skills

2008-11-29T10:05:00.011-10:00

When I was a kid, my dad could always fix anything. He did a lot of the contract work on our first house in Coaldale. He repaired my Merlin electronics game after I poured water in the speaker (just to see what would happen). He even replaced the engine in his old truck using an old swingset in our backyard as a hoist.

In Wisconsin, my friend Jazzhands practically re-modelled their house in his spare time. Over several Saturdays he built an entire fence around his yard, including the cement post foundations. His wife would pick things out of the Pottery Barn catalog and he'd build a perfect imitation in their garage. (Then he'd strap on his sparkly suspenders and celebrate freedom as a Showchoir yankee-doodle-dandy.)

I can't do any of those things. I own no tools. I have none skills. I lack patience. Whenever I begin fixing things, it generally ends with a special procedure I call, 'smashy-smashy.' I tried to put together a pinewood derby car for Jake one year. During the third race a back wheel fell off and it careened into the next lane where it collided with the opposing car and caught fire. Another happy childhood memory for Jakey.

So it should be not surprise that when our toilet started running last month I had no idea what to do. I had tried nothing and was completely out of ideas. For several weeks we had to sleep with the bathroom door closed, so the noise of water leaking from the tank into the bowl didn't keep us awake at night. I started inviting relatives to visit in the hopes they might fix it for us.

Finally, I accepted the fact that I would have to deal with this myself. After all, I will soon have PhD - surely I'm smart enough to be able to fix the toilet. After checking the internet, I identified the problem as a faulty 'flapper'. (Apparently, flappers aren't just twenties-era, free spirited women who drink martinis while dancing the Charleston at Jay Gatsby's house.)

The website presented a 'simple' step by step process for replacing the valve:

1) Drain the toilet tank
2) remove the flapper
3) purchase replacement
4) install
5) re-fill tank

Simple? Sure, why don't I just design and build a new space shuttle while I'm at it?

Draining the tank and removing the valve went just fine. Then came the most difficult step of all - going to Home Depot. I don't think I've ever been to a home improvement store by myself, I've only accompanied other guys who actually do this sort of thing and know what to buy. I had a particularly memorable trip with the Rock Star once (People thought we were a gay couple because he picked out all these foamy paintbrushes).

A well-installed flapper is a joy forever.

Thankfully Kaddi was along and steered me toward the pumbing section, then picked out a flapper that resembled ours. As we headed towards the checkout counter I consulted an employee to make sure I had selected the right model. "Oh yeah," he said, "you get that thing home and you'll be in plumber's paradise."

And he was right. Once I installed the valve and reconnected the chain - I was in paradise. It was the first home improvement I'd ever completed. There must be a badge I can get for this. Maybe I'll start working on my Chief Scout award again.

Everything went smoothly. Until I got to the last step...

Eat Fresh & Spicy: the eharmony model

2008-11-21T14:12:00.006-10:00

(For an interesting article on the LDS Church and the fallout of proposition 8 in California, see the National Review's article: Legislating Immorality)

This week the dating website eharmony agreed to provide homosexual dating services as part of an out-of-court settlement in New Jersey. The agreement ended a three-year lawsuit filed by Eric McKinley, who accused the company of depriving him of his civil rights after it declined to match him (according to twenty-eight points of compatibility) with another man.

In addition to successfully altering eharmony's business model, McKinley also received five thousand dollars - compensation for the pain and anguish of feeling like a "second-class citizen" after discovering eharmony had no drop-down menu for 'men seeking men.'

Strike another blow for progress.

Advocates of such a decision see it as helping to end the rampant discrimination against society's last minority - homosexuals. They argue it is no more justifiable for eharmony to refuse to match-up gays than it is for a Woolworth's lunch counter to deny pouring coffee for black customers. It has de-segregated the world of online dating.

Once again the argument just won't stand up.

The case of eharmony has nothing to do with the ethnic, religious, or gender identity of its subscribers. It has everything to do with the type of services eharmony is willing (and qualified) to provide.

Consider:

Let's say an Indian person enters a Subway restaurant, orders a meatball sub, and eats it at a nearby booth. Then a Chinese person enters the same Subway, orders the same meatball sub, but is informed the restaurant won't serve him because he's Chinese. This is discrimination. The establishment refused service solely based on ethnic background.

But, what if the Chinese person enters Subway and orders Kung Pao with white rice? The employee informs him that Subway doesn't serve Chinese food, he'll have to go somewhere else.

The Chinese customer remains adamant. He wants Kung Pao, and he wants it from Subway. He feels rejected and distraught. The fact that Subway serves only Eurocentric-themed sandwiches denies his cultural heritage and makes him feel like a second class citizen. If they persist with their policy he'll have to file a lawsuit to ensure equal protection under the law.

Is this also a case of discrimination?

eHarmony is guilty of refusing to serve Kung Pao. It's purpose, its expertise, is in finding levels of compatability between women looking for men, and men looking for women. Heteroexual communication is its meatball sub. Dr. Warren, founder of the company, has said in multiple interviews that he never accounted for homosexuals in his business plan because he had no training on the dynamics of gay relationships.

(That shouldn't surprise anyone. Everyone knows all Christian conservatives are homophobes.)

eharmony's sister-site, compatibilitypartners.net, will launch sometime early next year. I'm sure the gay community will be thrilled with the quality of online dating service they'll receive. I predict it will be so popular, so effective, it may put the hundreds of existing gay-dating websites out of business.

And I'll bet Subway would make great Kung Pao, if only they weren't so prejudiced...

Tolerance for me (not for thee)

2008-11-13T06:52:00.005-10:00

Back when I taught summer school in California, I naively stumbled into a class discussion on whether same-sex marriage should be legalized in California. Since all of my students voiced opinions in the affirmative, I naturally became the opposition. After its conclusion, one of my students went to the administration and accused me of being a bigot and a hatemonger. The school conducted a brief investigation and interviewed several other students. Unable to find corroborating evidence of my reactionary hate speech, they allowed me to keep my job if I would pledge not to dicuss any more 'controversial topics' in class.

I learned a very valuable lesson from the experience. Claims of victimization are not intended to persuade others, they intend to deny others to opportunity to debate.

That same principle is at play in the firestorm substituting for a discussion of same-sex marriage in California. Homosexual advocates casually toss around the word 'discrimination' to portray opposing voices as agents of intolerance. If you disagree with them, you are dismissed as an angry, hate-filled, bigot.

The efforts to legitimize same-sex unions are part of larger effort to undermine the privileged position traditional marriage has always occupied in our society. This effort has been underway for decades. Beginning in the 1960s, radical feminists denounced marriage as a form of gender slavery and encouraged women to pursue higher education and careers instead of becoming trapped in the doldrums of suburban family life. In the 1970s and 1980s, the institution of marriage became less important as the idea of 'living together' gained universal acceptance. 'Why do we need to get married?', young people would ask, 'Why do we need a piece of paper from the government to tell us our love is real?'

I would ask that same question of the homosexual community today. Their attempt to change marriage so that it encompasses other unions represents a strategic shift. After decades of assaulting marriage from without, this is an attempt to weaken it from within. The ultimate goal of forces behind the 'no' movement in California and other place is not to preserve the rights of gay people (what rights?), it is to create a society where no one form of relationship can be privileged above another form. By perpetually re-defining marriage to make it all encompassing, the institution itself will lose both meaning and purpose. That is the end game.

So far the homosexual community has been very successfuly in using the court system to work toward that goal. But on election day the people of California, to the chagrin of their state government, re-affirmed their support for traditional marriage. Although I disagree with some of its tactics, I applaud the Church's willingness to take a stand on an issue that is fundamental to our belief system.

The reaction to the proposition vote in California among the gay community and the media has been both dishonest and cowardly. Relying on old stereotypes, news coverage has portrayed the Mormons as puritanical agents of intolerance, a powerful religious group that has used their money and influence to force their dogma on others. The protests, graffiti, and violence outside the LA temple have been very disturbing. The internet is filled with anti-Mormon vitriole (more than usual) including calls to revoke the Church's tax exempt status and to disrupt Church services.

Anyone capable of honest reflection understands that Mormons are not the main reason for this election outcome. The proposition passed because California's minorities, especially blacks and latinos, voted for it in overwhelming numbers. These people are not conservatives. They are not anti-gay. But they do celebrate Christian values. They entered the polling booths to vote for Obama and traditional marriage.

You will never hear this mentioned of course, because it contradicts the 'civil rights' narrative created by the gay community. As they desperately try to link their own cause to the struggle for racial equality, they refuse to acknowledge the fact that the minorities disagree with them. But ethnic minorities do not make good villains - religious convervatives do.

(And by the way - it's not as if Mormons don't have any experience with marriage bans or being forced to alter their lifestyles in conformance with federal law. If gays want to learn something about real persecution they should pick up one of our history books. After all, I don't see Bush sending the US calvary into West Hollywood.)

I have watched several internet videocasts detailing the protests outside the temple in Los Angeles. In every case, the producers are careful to dig up a dissenting LDS voice. Usually it is an early twenties female, who once was a member but now no longer practices. She is embarassed and horrified by her former church's disriminatory stance. Suggesting the presence of a rift within the membership body helps media organs like the Los Angeles Times and Sacramento Bee sell their pre-packaged conclusion that the Church's stance is prejudicial.

At no time have I ever seen airtime given to a homosexual who voted yes on the proposition, or who disagrees with GLADD's militant position, or its obscene protests and targeting of Mormons. Are we to believe that the gay community is so monolithic that one hundred percent of its adherents have the exact same political opinion? I thought their culture celebrated diversity.

On Wednesday the artistic director of the California Musical Theater in Sacramento resigned after it became public that he had donated a thousand dollars to the vote yes campaign. The director, who is LDS, explained that the backlash resulting from his donation would hamper the theater's ability to function within the nationwide dramatic community. Marc Shaiman, the composer of 'Hairspray', publicly stated he would never allow the CMT to stage any of his plays as long as this individual remained artistic director.

In the late 1940s, at the beginning of the cold war, many actors, screenwriters, and directors were denied work in the entertainment industry if they had once expressed sympathy with the communist party. It appears little has changed. Welcome to the new Hollywood blacklist.

And Mormons will not be the only ones affected. I have read several accounts of California businesses receiving threats from gay activists in retaliation for their donation to the 'yes' campaign. (No word yet on whether GLADD will be employing firehoses or German Shepherds to deal with these hate-mongers.)

Let the Age of Tolerance begin.

The Election's Tragic Aftermath

2008-11-10T18:28:00.001-10:00

Special Thanks to Dave for pointing this out...

Obama Win Causes Obsessive Supporters To Realize How Empty Their Lives Are

Baby Bangs

2008-11-10T17:37:00.003-10:00

For years I assumed that the term “Baby Bangs” referred to babies when they are growing hair. It’s all new so it looks very short. I have since discovered the true historic reference to “Baby Bangs.” After having Jake and Meg my hair fell out, but at a normal rate. After having Luke it’s like my hair follicles were in a race with one another to see who could leave my scalp the quickest. You want to know who won? They all did. I have never in my life lost so much hair, mainly in the front. Luke of course is the cause and culprit. So for months now I have invested a small fortune in hair products which promise to slick down any hairs that are a nuisance (pomade, gels, dapper dan).

These products for the most part have done there job but I must confess that for Halloween this year Jake and Meg insisted that I go as Telly from Sesame Street. If you do not have children and do not know how I might pass as Telly I will describe him. He is a fuzzy monster, with hairs on top of his head that are in a constant refusal to obey the laws of gravity. They simply just stand straight up on his furry head and kind of float about. That is about what I look like these days. On my Christmas wish list to Santa this year am hoping for a subscription to Rogaine for Women, hair plugs or a nice wig. I’m not partial, Santa can choose.

I would just like to look normal again. On some days I have to resort to drastic measures and sweep my hair across my forehead. On those days for some reason Meg and Jake would rather walk to school than have me drive them. Oh well, I must endure this until my “Baby Bangs” grow out. I just hope that with our next baby I don’t go completely bald. Time will tell.

One State, One People, One President

2008-11-07T06:45:00.006-10:00

Well, it's time to get back to 301NIB after spending the last two days dancing in the streets celebrating the Obama victory. A new day is dawning, the long night of tyranny is over. I no longer have to worry about the world my children will grow up in.

Obama is President-Elect.

I say this with only a slight tinge of facetiousness. When Obama was projected to become the President on election night I was watching Fox. The normally gruff and cynical Juan Williams teared up as he tried to elaborate on the meaning of this historical moment. It was a touching scene, even for someone as calloused and unfeeling as myself.

The truth is, I'm relieved by the Obama victory - for several reasons. John McCain was never my candidate, and I thought he ran a mediocre campaign marred at times by the underhanded tactics normally associated with Democracts. Bankrupt of ideas, the Republicans deserved the sche-lacking they got Tuesday night.

I also think balance is important in the democratic process. It was time for the pendulum to swing back toward the left. The problem now is the lack of balance with the three brances, each dominated by Democrats. Hopefully that too will self-correct in the by-elections of 2010.

But most of all, I'm relieved at the possibility that I will no longer have to spend every conversation listening to some pseudo-intellect drone on about the evils of the Bush administration. George Jr. is either the most diabolical mastermind ever to have faked WMD's, or a Texas-sized dunce who can't put on his jogging shoes without asking Cheney to tie them. After eight years of enduring, "Commander in Thief" and "Bush lied, People died", the new Cult of Obama will be a most welcome respite.

And really, will an Obama Presidency be so bad? Does the President really have the power to remake America, as Barry claims he will do? I think not. So I don't share the doomsday scenarios as described by many in the world of conservative punditry. With the country seething at his imagined similarities to Bush, a McCain presidency had no chance at uniting the country. An Obama administration could be very successful at bringing people together.

The perennial questions is: Which Obama will we get? Will it be the leftist radical that ran in the Democratic primaries, who beat Hillary by promising to bring the troops home in the first month of his administration? Or will it be the more reasonable moderate Obama, who ran towards the center in the general election and has hardly mentioned his plans for Iraq?

I, for one, am counting on the moderate. I really don't believe Obama will do many of the things he said he would do. His career has been marked, not by idealism, but by opportunism. In the primaries, he placated the unions with protectionist drivel and the move-on.orgs with his pacifist shtick. But he also has proven remarkably adept at weaseling out of his commitments. After promising to accept matching funds, Obama made the smart decision and opted out. This reversal was met by nary a peep from the non-hate-monger media, and Barry buried McCain under 600 million dollars worth of advertising and orgainizational support.

This is the Obama that gives me hope. He'll use his press conferences to spout the grandiose, ethereal, pie-in-the-sky phrases of hope we all expect, but when the bills show up on his desk, he will first and foremost protect his own legacy. And the country will be better for it.

What continues to concern me is the Cult of Personality that only continues to grow around this man. In my lifetime, I have never before witnessed a scene similar to the one in Grant Park prior to Obama's acceptance speech. Hundreds of thousands of people gathered in jubilation, hugging each other, shedding tears of relief and joy. It was as if World War II has just ended.

Even more disturbing was the speech itself. Not the words, which were profound and eloquent, and delivered flawlessly as always. I was stunned by the staging of the event. Obama stood alone on the platform. No family beside him, no VP candidate, no supporters who had helped make this moment possible. Millions of admirers sat transfixed by the solitary figure at the podium. The Great Helmsman articulating his vision for a new society, and the new people who will inhabit it. It was eerie in its brilliance.

Perhaps the most surprising news of the election is the minimal influence of the Bradley effect. Charles Franklin, a political scientist at the University of Wisconsin, has proclaimed that there exists no evidence that racism affected white attitudes towards Barack Obama. I say - he's not looking hard enough.

(So far, no comment on why 94% of blacks voted for Obama over McCain. I can only assume it was the tax cuts.)

Q & A

2008-10-30T05:16:00.000-10:00

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

There, I said it

2008-10-29T05:38:00.005-10:00

With the election less than a week away, it appears Barry will be the next President of the United States. The polling numbers in most key swing states seem to favor him by several percentage points. Still, the Dems are worried about the possibility of an upset, largely due to the race factor. You hear murmuring about the infamous 'Bradley effect', a scenario in which voters lie to pollsters because they don't want to seem racist, then enter the voting booth and pull the lever for the white candidate.

It seems to be the rule that whenever race comes up in this country, it is always a discussion of how minorities are held back by the color of their skin. Without denying this is often the case, I see a slightly different trend in this election. Race has been an overwhelmingly positive factor in the Obama campaign, which leads me to the following controversial conclusion:

If Obama were not black, he could never be President in 2008.

Allow me to qualify this statement before I get the inevitable accusations of racism and hatemongering. I am not saying that this is the only reason he will be President. He has many qualities that make him an attractive candidate, he is articulate, confident, poised, intelligent, etc. But so are many other leaders throughout this country. Success in politics requires ability AND opportunity. Rather than denying him opportunity, Obama's race has been an enormous factor giving him the chance to be President.

Let's look at some examples:

When Obama attended high school in Hawaii, his name was Barry Dunham. Why did he change his name to Barak and adopt his father's African surname?

Obama exploded on the national scene in 2004 with his speech at the Democratic National Convention. I remember sitting in the TA lab at UW listening to other graduate students fawning all over him, longing for the day when they could vote for him as President. If you remember, that speech was all about his experience embracing the American dream as a minority. When do you ever remember a speech by a state senator getting that much attention? If he's not black, he doesn't have that great story. Would he get tapped for that speech?

A seminal moment in his Presidential campaign was Oprah Winfrey's endorsement of Obama on her show. I have no doubt that Oprah votes Democratic in every election, but she had never endorsed a candidate before now, and she certainly didn't invite McCain and Palin on her show. What made Obama so special?

When Obama announced his candidacy for President he had been a US Senator for two years. He had no foreign relations experience. He had very little legislative experience. He committed several gaffes in his early campaign speeches, such as suggesting that there were more than fifty states. If he were a white candidate, could he have beat Hillary Clinton?

Obama is driven by undeniable ambition and very talented. I don't doubt that, given more time and experience in government, he would have eventually ran for President and perhaps succeeded, regardless of his race. But not this year.

My purpose in raising this issue is not to suggest that Obama is a token race candidate, although doubtlessly many will interpret it that way. But like many in this country, I grow weary of the constant accusations that America is an overtly racist society, that minorities can't succeed, that skin color always dictates opportunity. In some cases this is true, but by and large it is not.

I'm not suggesting Obama's race is the only reason for his success. It doesn't change the fact that, given the chance to speak at the DNC in 2004, he delivered an address that will be remembered for decades. I'm simply saying his race has helped, not hurt, in his quest to become President. It has given him the storyline that is essential to Presidential politics, like Bill Clinton's 'Man from Hope' narrative.

What's racist about that?

Banned in the USA

2008-10-19T05:11:00.003-10:00

Jake has been bugging us for weeks to let him dye his hair. So, the other day Kaddi bought him some dye spray and sprayed his hair green before school. It lasted all of about ten minutes before the office staff moved to stamp out this act of rebellion.

They called him down the office to tell him that, "This sort of thing was not appropriate." Then the secretary made him wash it out of his hair. He returned to his classroom unbroken. He had lost the battle, but he had the courage to take a stand against the man.

I guess you can empathize with the elementary school on this one. You have to maintain standards. If you allow someone to dye their hair green, pretty soon someone else is getting a fake tattoo. Then before you know it some punk comes to school wearing a pro-Obama t-shirt. It would be anarchy.

Well, we can't worry about this too much right now. Kaddi and I have other importants issues facing our family. We're in the midst of a disagreement over why exactly Gargymel was trying to capture the Smurfs. Kaddi's convinced he wanted to eat them, while I maintain he needed them as an ingredient for his potion to make gold.

To the internet!

It's Storytime

2008-10-15T05:49:00.008-10:00

All history is story-telling. This is why historians are so fascinated with narratives. How they are constructed, the biases they reflect, and evaluating who benefits most from telling a story through a certain perspective.

I'm fascinated with the narratives coming out of this election. I particularly enjoy watching the left dredge up a contemporary rendition of their classic stand-by: that all conservatives are mean hateful people. (You can read the latest example of this storyline in the Chicago Sun-Times)

Or, for an even better example, see The Porter Bureau

The McCain-Palin ticket is constantly portrayed as racist hatemongers who use campaign rallies to stir up their supporters to violence. This narrative is particularly powerful during this election for two reasons. Obama is black. Palin is country. After reading articles like the one above, you'd think the Republican symbol was a burning cross rather than an elephant.

A few weeks ago, when it looked like Barry could actually lose, the airwaves and newspaper columns were full of accusations that racism was making the election close. Now that Obama had a strong edge, liberals are working themselves into a frenzy over the likelihood that Barry will be assasinated. That's how conservatives problem-solve, after all.

Admittedly, conservative have opened the door to this sort of thing with their "Obama doesn't see the world as we see it" rhetoric. The conservative media have done what they always do - make the public afraid of the Democratic candidate.

My question is: where does this narrative come from? When the left has a problem they protest peacefully (ex. anti-globalization protests in Seattle, or the 1968 Democratic convention in Chicago), but the right goes out and kills people.

This is another arena where the response to Palin is so fascinating. I would argue there is BY FAR more hatred and vitriole directed towards her in the public arena than anything that's been said against Obama. Here are a few examples:

Inspiring artwork depicting Palin as a "Mother I'd like to Punch." Sure, it celebrates violence against women, but it's for a good cause.

A popular museum display of Palin breaking one of the left's commandments - Thou shalt not hunt. And an Obama supporter pointing a rifle at her head. Can you imagine the outcry if the media caught a McCain supporter pointing a rifle at a banner featuring Barry's likeness?

Here's a charming little bumper sticker for your minivan. The website that sells these carries the tagline: Abort Sarah Palin because she's a horrible person. Another example of rational dialogue on the issues.

I don't blame Obama for this. He didn't create this intense animosity towards a mother of four from Alaska. But I am interested in why these types of portrayals are never featured on the nightly news or on the pages of the NY Times / Washington Post? The answer is really quite simple.

They don't fit the storyline.

The Problem With Palin

2008-10-12T18:40:00.004-10:00

Things do not look good for the GOP.

When Christopher Buckley writes an article describing why he's not voting for the Republican ticket, you can probably fold up the tent. I agree with Buckley's description of McCain's actions during the campaign, but disagree as to its significance. The campaign has not changed his character, it has revealed it.

The media used to fawn over McCain as a Maverick. Republicans know him as an opportunist that would gleefully throw his own party under the bus if it might get him some time on Meet the Press. This is why he's never had the trust of the party faithful.

When McCain thought Hillary would be the Democratic nominee, he spoke of a civil and decent campaign based on the issues. (Then he hammered Romney with the dishonest attacks about supporting a timetable for withdrawal.)

And here are the issues McCain sees as important. Obama is a celebrity. Obama pals around with terrorists. Bill Ayers. Tony Rezko. Jeremiah Wright. Flag lapel pins. And are we really sure Obama is not a Muslim?

McCain promised us a ticket that would exemplify experience. Then he chose Sarah Palin. I see three reasons for this choice, and none of them had anything to do with experience (which shows poor judgement.) First, McCain realized he needed to excite the base. Second, McCain wanted a woman who could negate Obama's minority appeal. Third, McCain hates Romney.

This last reason delights me most of all, because it confirms McCain's reputation as a vicious politicians who allows personal grudges to influence public policy. As the nation's financial markets collapse, how nice would it be to have someone with real business credentials out there on the stump communicating the GOP's economic recovery plan?

I confess to vacillating on Palin. When she was first announced I though it was a huge mistake. When I saw her popularity with conservatives I wondered if McCain was a genius. And now I have to admit she's a liability.

The Palin problem is perplexing.

Her announcement as the VP candidate shocked everyone. No one outside Alaska knew anything about her except that she was a conservative and evangelical. This ignited a race to define her, which the GOP lost.

Left-oriented segments of the media dismissed her the way they always do conservative middle America, by instantly labeling her as an religious fanatic illiterate chill-billy. She's a kooky small-town mayor. She believes in creationism. She wants to ban books. She's not an 'authentic' woman. She hunts wolves using helicopters. The baby probably isn't even hers. And her foreign policy experience consists of looking across the Bering Strait through her binoculars.

Here I must begrudglingly concede a point made by a friend. Palin has had ample opportunities to smash these assumptions out of the park, and has repeatedly whiffed. The Charles Gibson interview tanked. The Katie Couric interview was just as bad. And the VP debate did little to correct the opinion that Palin was competent to step in if McCain couldn't finish his term.

I don't blame Palin for this, I blame McCain. Obama and Biden have been running for President for years now. They've gone through multiple debates and spent thousands of hours fielding questions from voters and reporters. Palin has been in national politics for all of eight weeks. She hasn't even finished a full term as governor.

All Republican candidates now stand in Reagan's enormous shadow. When the Gipper first ran for President in 1968, he'd been Governor of California for only eighteen months and was easily trounced by Nixon. He lost again, narrowly this time, to then President Gerald Ford in 1976. By the time he won in 1980, he'd been honing his political skills and ideas on the national scene for twelve years.

Palin will grow from this experience and be an asset to the Republican party for years to come, but it is difficult to argue she is prepared to step in and assume the mantle of the Presidency this year. Her selection represents the triumph of political expediency over reasoned judgement.

If McCain can no longer plausibly make the argument that his judgement and experience are superior to Obama's, what chance does he have?

Bob Dole doesn't need this

2008-10-11T05:03:00.004-10:00

Luke is now crawling all over house. This morning he got into the kitchen cupboard, pulled out the a stack of glassware and watched it crash and break on the kitchen floor.

His favorite item for a few days was a red sharpie pen that he would carry everywhere with him. He looked like Baby Dole. We eventually had to take it away from him when he started giving speeches on the flat tax, railing against Bill Clinton, and making long distance calls to Jack Kemp's office.

What's this? Some kind of pen?

When the family gets together

2008-10-04T10:01:00.005-10:00

A few more observations from last weekend:

My parents drove down with my sister Angela's family in their minivan. They called me in the late afternoon to tell me they had arrived and were enjoying some ice cream at Dairy Cream. When I walked down the hill to meet them, I noticed they were sitting outside at a table. They had the doors of the mini-van open and the stereo was blasting early eighties rap.

I just kept walking.

After the baptism we had Meg's confirmation meeting with just our own family. Even someone as callous as myself had to admit there was a very warm feeling in the room. I was especially touched to see my cousin's wife on the back row with tears in her eyes. Later I learned she was upset because the Gators lost.

We returned home for the big family meal. When that was over I was shocked to hear my parents tell me they were going to the mall. It was Saturday, but it still felt so wrong.

My dad has developed an unhealthy fascination with Sonic restaurant. They'd only been in town for a few minutes before he forced us to drive to a Sonic so he could get his novelty drink. He's the original guzzle-gut.

This is the best group picture we have, and it makes me laugh everytime I see it. If you live in Winnipeg you know why.

Meg with my sister Angela's family.

The primary orchestrated this photo shoot before the baptism. While they were taking the pictures my dad kept making fun of me for wearing white after Labor Day, which I thought was really inappropriate.

Kaddi and Meg

Meg and her cousin Nolan pose for my favorite picture from the weekend. Why is awkward so darn cute?

Born of Water

2008-09-27T18:04:00.005-10:00

Today we had Meg's baptism in a very special meeting along with seventy-two other eight year-olds from our stake. It was nice to have both grandparents and other family in town.

For the confirmation meeting Kaddi put together a special video montage of pictures of Meg. She spent hours collecting the footage, editing the video, and then searching for a medium to display it. When it was time to show the video she spent several minutes trying to get it to work - and if hadn't been for the intervention of a senior project manager, it may never have happened. But figure it out she did.

It's something all 301NIB viewers should be able to enjoy.

Make an on-line slideshow at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Aside from the technical difficulties, the baptismal meeting was not without its candor. All the children being baptized and their fathers sat on the front row so that the speakers could take directly to them. I ended up sitting next to a little boy who couldn't wait to be done with the entire affair so he could go outside and play.

As the prelude music was playing I heard him say, "What? There's going to be talks?! That's so boring!"

Later when other children walked onto the stage for a musical number he said, "There's no way you could get ME to go up there."

But the best part was during the final talk on the Holy Ghost. The speaker shared an experience where he had been hiking with his family and gotten lost, but found his way back to the car with the aid of a GPS device. Throughout the talk he held up his global positioning unit as a visual aid. This led to the following exchange:

Speaker: Today, each of you will receive a type of GPS-device...

Bored little boy: Awesome!

Speaker: ....called the Holy Ghost.

Bored little boy: Awww, man!

Best baptism meeting ever.

It's a mad, Mad-town: Part II

2008-09-17T05:45:00.002-10:00

When we last left our hero he was getting ready for the big move out of storage and into the moving van....

If it doesn't fit, she must forget

From the moment I reserved the truck online I was worried that it may have been too small for all our items. The truck description said it was ideal for 2-3 bedrooms, which is what we had. I was also certain the sixteen-footer was the exact size we had used to move out of your apartment two years ago. What I failed to consider was that we had already taken several van loads of boxes out of the apartment before the big moving day.

When we arrived at the storage and began pulling everything out it became obvious in a hurry that there would be some casualties. I started to panic a little, knowing the certain doom that awaited me in Provo when Kaddi learned some things had been left behind.

Several friends from the ward were nice enough to come help on a Saturday morning. Unfortunately, they spent most of their time standing around while I tried to prioritize the load. I even called Penske again to explore the possibility of renting a larger truck - which would have meant taking everything out of this truck, driving over to pick up another truck, then coming back and re-loading it. Not the ideal scenario. The clincher was the price difference. It would have cost an extra five hundred dollars. Since all our stuff put together was probably only worth five hundred dollars, it didn't seem like a wise investment.

So I made the executive decision. It was like Sophie's choice. Some of our belonging would live, and some would die.

The story has a somewhat happy ending. Many of the items found good homes with friends, and others were sold at garage sales. I was really just hoping Kaddi would forget everything we had, and so wouldn't notice that certain things were missing.

She didn't forget.

Living Separate Lives

After loading up the moving van we had to return to Chez Rock Star to get the most prized item of all - the Pier One table. We parked the truck in front of Steve's house and began unloading some items so that we could make room for the Holy Grail of the Madison move.

We kept it small, and we kept it real

While we were working, several of Steve's neighbours passed by. You could just see the panic in their faces, thinking that he was moving out of the area.

"Oh no, he's moving out? If the Rock Star leaves the neighbourhood my property values are going to bottom out. Maybe if I promise to shovel his driveway all winter I can get him to stay..."

Steve calmed their fears by telling everyone that he wasn't moving, he was finally getting rid of some items that a freeloading friend had been keeping in his basement for over two years. Everyone had a hearty chuckle (except the free loading friend).

My laugh came later when the Rock Star went back into the house to take a phone call from his manager (Talk to me, Cindy!). Yet another neighbour came by and asked me if Steve and Jamie were moving out. I told him the marriage was in trouble and so Steve had decided to take an apartment on the west side. The guy responded, "That makes sense - I was trying to figure out why they had such a small moving truck."

We did manage to make room for the table and the chairs, which made all the way to Provo without any damage. (Which is pretty remarkable, considering it's soft wood.)

But when I was all packed up and had driven out of town, the table legs were still sitting in a box in Schaefer's basement.

Five minutes to Showtime

The most surreal experience of my weekend in Madison was church on Sunday. For ninety glorious minutes, I felt was it must be like to be the Rock Star.

Our ward in Madison has an elderly Lao couple who come to church faithfully each week, even though they understand little of the meetings. The Bishop gave them each callings, and was waiting for me to arrive so that I could explain those calling to them and assist in translating their ordination.

So, I arrived at church a half hour early and pulled up at the back entrance. Security whisked me through secret tunnels to the Bishop's office, where I spent the next thirty minutes in a meeting with the Manavongs talking about their callings and getting re-acquainted in Thai.

Then we headed into Sacrament meeting. It was complete chaos, with crowds of people pressing against security barriers, former Scouts asking me to sign their 'For the Strength of Youth' pamphlets, and everyone trying to get a glimpse of celebrity. It caught me a little off guard, but I really should have expected it. Madison was the birthplace of the Mack Strate phenomenon, and word had traveled fast that the local boy was returning home.

I have to admit that I was completely overwhelmed by the reception. If not for the coaching I received from the Rock Star, I never would have made it. He showed me how to stand so the paparazzi capture you from the best angles, how to approach the crowds without getting too close, and how to always leave them wanting more.

Sadly, I didn't get to visit with as many friends as I had hoped. Steve had to leave for a gig right after the meeting, and so security once again whisked us out through the service entrance and before I could re-orient myself we were on our way to the airport.

Uneasy Lies the Head

2008-09-15T05:02:00.002-10:00

I have a confession.

It's something I've been hiding from everyone for quite a while. A secret so dark and sinister it has the potential to embarass my family and alienate me from friends. Fortunately, I work in academia - so coming clean about my true nature will not hurt my career (it will probably even help). Over time I think people close to me will learn to accept my alternative choice, but even if they don't it's time for me to come clean:

I want Obama to win in Novemember.

Let me quickly add that it's not because I agree with his policies. I still think he's wrong about Iraq, abortion, gun control, education, and a host of other issues. It's not that I believe Barry's the best person to govern the country, although given McCain's recent campaign strategy, it's hard to say. No, the reason I want the Democracts to win the Presidency is much more self-serving. I want to switch over to the resistance for a few years.

I just feel I would be more comfortable as part of the opposition. I could become one of those sophisticated, urbane, erudite commentators who scoff at the administration's transparent rhetoric because I'm so clever I see the world in its true state. Any mechanical drone can like things. A true intellectual understands why he should dislike them. This is the world we live in. Supporters are mindless and boring. Dissenters are smart and sexy.

If you've ever been to the movies you already know this. The unwashed masses come out of a theater and talk about who much fun they had watching the picture. They say things like, "I thought it was cute," or "It was very entertaining," or "Remember when they blew up that car? That was awesome!" These people enjoy almost every movie because they don't know any better.

To be considered a truly discerning moviegoer requires an element of harshness. The educated elite rarely endorse movies because they're capable of spotting the flaws in acting, storyline, and presentation. After viewing a film they say things like, "the acting was stilted and wooden," or "the plot eventually collapsed under its own weight," or "Kevin Costner couldn't inspire paint to dry."

And they say these things right after you just finished talking about how much you liked the movie, which makes you feel stupid. So you think to yourself, "If only I was smarter, then I would have been disappointed too." Do you have a friend who hates every movie he's ever seen? He's probably a genius.

And if Obama becomes President, maybe I could be like that friend.

The truth is I'm worn out. The past eight years of defending the Bush administration have been exhausting. Have you ever been at an academic gathering and tried defending the Iraq war, or 'No Child left Behind,' or Faith-based initiatives? I felt like a wounded gazelle asking a group of hungry Jackals for a leg splint. Bush opponents consider Bush supporters to be kool-aid drinkers, uninformed ideologues, reactionary Red Americans who ignore reality. If only they were a little smarter they could see the damage W has done to the country. But like the habitual theater-goer, they just like to sit there and watch things blow up.

Instead of trying to reason with an angry mob, I want to be part of that mob. I could spend the next four years making fun of Obama supporters who believe that he's really going pull the troops out during his first month in office, or that he can bring about universal healthcare, or put the country on track to be energy-independent in ten years. No longer would I be a mindless follower. My superior intelligence would be obvious from the intensity of my disdain.

Being for things is hard work. It's much more fun to be against things. When you're out of power you don't have to worry about achieving anything. You simply point out the ruling party's failures and critique their proposals. You get to appear smug and self-important as you explain that you see what everyone else is missing.

Yes sir, sign me up for a four year tour-of-duty in the resistance.

(I guess I could always support Nader. Then I'd be set no matter who won.)

Regrets? I've had a few

2008-09-09T16:23:00.002-10:00

For most people, the beginning of a new year is the time when they take stock of their lives. The yearly cycle of a grad student/fake professor, however, always begins anew with the start of a fall semester. This is season when the leaves start to change, the morning air is crisp and cold, and I begin to wonder if perhaps I should have done some things differently.

For instance, maybe we shouldn't have had our two oldest children one day a part at the beginning of September. Each year their birthdays come around the same time that tuition is due. Hey, I love my kids, but graduate school doesn't pay for itself. Fortunately this year we have an abundance of excess items that we've pulled out of storage. We'll say 'happy birthday' to Meg with an old clock radio, while Jake can look forward to unwrapping his winter coat from two years ago.

I'm also starting to question whether I can handle the day-to-day performance pressure of being a university professor. At Hawaii each class had only forty students. Here I stand up at the lectern and see 150 sets of eyes boring into me. The pressure doesn't let up after lectures either. I have to face the tough questions like, "Uh...can I have a syllabus?" Geesh. Just because I've been studying this for ten years doesn't mean I know every single thing about the entire history of forever.

And then of course I say things I probably shouldn't. Last class I moved the deadline of a paper back to give the students more time to complete it. I explained it was a shameless attempt to get them to like me, but was also necessary so that their papers stayed separate from the other section's assignments. My explanation led to the following exchange:

Student: You're right, this DOES make me like you more!
Me: Really? I still like you about the same.

There go the teaching evaluations.

Even my eating habits probably need re-evaluation. Last night after dinner I was looking for something to get the non-chocolate taste out of my mouth, but came up empty. After searching through pantry and cupboards, I finally found a bag of leftover cinnamon bears that had been in the back of the fridge for two weeks. At least it was sugar.

My mouth still tastes like freezer burn.

Chicken Soup for the Conservative Soul

2008-09-05T07:42:00.007-10:00

I'll be honest.

When I first heard McCain's VP announcement I though it was a disaster. Nominating a first-term governor from a state no one cares about seemed to undercut his emphasis on being 'ready to govern'. For months St. John (and I) have been criticizing Obama as a community organizer masquerading as a Presidential candidate. Well, that line of reasoning is dead and buried. The Republicans have just added the 2008 version of Dan Quayle to their ticket. People might as well take their chances on Barry.

(I must also point out the press's fascination with the Maverick moniker makes me want to watch Spanish language news. Choosing Lieberman would have been a Maverick move, and resulted in the complete implosion of the GOP campaign. Choosing Palin was simply an acknowledgement that McCain wasn't getting it done.)

It came across as such a desperate, image-conscious decision. After a week of watching the Obama disciples in spread the Good News from Denver, McCain realized he was in big trouble. There no exictement, no energy, no winning issue. I'm sure it was like Governor Pappy O'Daniel sitting on the porch with his brain trust thinking, "Hey, why don't we get ourselves a little midget even smaller than Stokes'?!!"

Which, of course, is what McCain did. He looked past Romney and Pawlenty and Lieberman and many people more qualified, and reached up into the Last Frontier to pull down Sarah Palin.

Two thing have shocked me since that announcement. The way the right has embraced Palin and the way the left has assaulted her.

The fact that conservatives seem overjoyed to have Palin on the ticket is somewhat understandable. After all, there was serious panic within the party that they might end up with Lieberman. This woman is pro-life, a gun-owner, in favor of more drilling, and an unapologetic evangelical. But when Palin's name came up in speculation EVERYONE talked about her as a poor choice, simply because she's so new to the national game. The clamour was all about getting someone like Romney or Pawlenty who would make the Obama candidacy look even riskier.

I also expected the Democracy strategists to simply laugh at Palin's introduction, but instead they've assaulted her like a beach at Normandy. There's a serious contradiction within Obama's approach. Palin could be either completely unknown or completely incompetent, she can't be both. Even as they deride her abilities and qualifications they dig up every rumor and innuendo possible to throw at her. Her daughter's pregnant, the baby isn't hers, she tired to have her ex-bro-in-law fired. There were even tabloids trying to link her romatically with the editor of 301NIB.

It's becoming increasingly obvious that the left has no idea how to deal with this type of Republican candidate. All of a sudden we have the Gloria Steinem crowd is accusing her of jeopardizing her family's well-being by spending too much time on her career. (That's supposed to be OUR line). Is it conceivable that a woman could be successful professionally while embracing marriage and shunning abortion? Acceptance of such an idea would sound the death-knell of liberal feminism.

But the real reason we love Sarah Palin is that she appears to have stepped right out of Frank Capra film. Each of his films (Mr. Deeds goes to Town, Mr. Smith goes to Washington, It's a Wonderful Life) celebrated the ability of the idealistic small-town everyman to triumph over the cynicism and snobbery of the urbane elitist. Her campaign speech at the convention was relentless in it criticism of Obama, but managed to do so with such relaxed humor that it avoided the appearance of bitterness. Biden should take note for the VP debate. If he's not careful he'll come across as the cantankerous Henry Potter trying to squash the Bailey building and loan.

In the end I don't think even this appeal to middle American will save the GOP from the electorate's overwhelming desire to punish Republicans for the past eight years. But, it certainly has given conservatives more of a reason to head to the voting booths on a Tuesday night.

Canadians are Americans too

2008-09-03T06:10:00.004-10:00

It is a busy time here in the mountain west. My classes start today, which means I have to dust off my lecture notes and prepare my powerpoints. My job applications for next year are due in a few days. I have to finish up posts lauding Sarah Palin (and making fun of Obama). And as always the dissertation looms large overhead.

But each of these tasks pales in importance to congratulating the winner of our caption contest. The voting was close, going down to the wire before a victor emerged. I really should have announced the winner a few days ago, but some of our viewers in Ohio filed a legal injunction against 301NIB, claiming that someone tampered with their voting machines. (We settled out of court)

So congratulations to Joe from Tucson, a virtual unknown who came out of nowhere to claim the 2008 title with this caption:

"C'mon Meg… just pull the trigger already! I don't know how it works either! When I was your age all we got to do for fun was throw rocks eh!"

Well done, Joe. Apparently the combination of portraying me as an illiterate, slack-yawed technophobe and making fun of my Canadian accent put you over the top in a close race - proving once again that anti-immigrant sentiment always sells.

On a related note, I was disappointed that my own entry (entered under a pseudonym) didn't register a single vote. I had no idea the 301NIB public was so hostile to Canadian-Americans.

Ah, well - in the end it was an honor just nominating myself.

Smarty-Smart Pants

2008-08-29T16:37:00.002-10:00

Many of you have written to 301NIB expressing concern about my relationship with Jake. But he and I have a great relationship. We spend quality time together when he brings me the tools so I can put together bunkbeds. Sometimes in the evening we play all sorts of fun games together, like 'slap the Nintendo controller out of Jake's hand' or 'pin the blame on Jake' or 'jam the broken glow-stick in Jake's eye.'

Such good memories.

But this week even I had to give J-dog some props. Last week his sixth grade class tested for competency in mathematics. Yesterday we learned that Jake scored the highest in his class and is one of the smartest kids in his entire grade. (Someday he hopes to be two of them). Now he's part of a select group of students who will study pre-algebra this year.

I can't remember - does being good at math help you with grade six chicks?

The Light Refreshment

2008-08-26T00:43:00.005-10:00

A recent article in slate magazine identified Barak Obama as the Pepsi Candidate, noting the eerie similarities between the Democratic Messiah and the popular soft drink. His One-ness claims to be the choice of a new generation, appealing to a younger, fresher, electorate. Barry even drinks Aquafina (a Pepsi product) on the campaign trail (Clinton drank Dasani - Coke) and his rapture/convention will take place in Denver's Pepsi Center. Even the campaign logo looks strikingly similar to the Pepsi tri-color symbol.

But perhaps the most interesting comparison of all involves the Pepsi Challenge. It's well known that in head-to-head taste tests a majority of people prefer Pepsi's sweeter taste over Coke. So why does Coke consistently outsell Pepsi decade after decade. There are many possible explanation, but the most convincing involves novelty versus longevity. While an initial sip of Pepsi is very refreshing, the less intense flavor of Coke proves more satisfying over the course of an entire can/bottle/super-tanker fountain cup.

Ultimately, this helps explain why the Pepsi candidate is still in a statistical dead heat with an uninspiring Republican challenger, despite the Democract's obvious advantages of an unpopular war and lagging economy. David Brooks recently wrote that Obama's big test at the Denver convention is to define himself - voters haven't committed to his ticket because they don't know who he is.

I think the opposite is true. Voters have had a year to get to know Barry and his South-side entourage. The first few sips were very refreshing - full of airy speeches and promising rhetoric - but after the jolt of sweetness wore off there was very little substance to sustain the attraction. His performance at Saddleback ranch revealed a candidate unable to give convincing ansers to tough questions. Many voters have realized that underneath all the gloss and celebrity endorsements is another McGovern-liberal, whose position on the economy, abortion, health care, climate change, and national security make them uncomfortable. Obama is the not-ready-for-prime-time politician.

Enter Joe Biden. His Veep selection (when Obama clearly preferred Tim Kaine of Virginia) was a decision made out of weakness. It is an admission that the country doesn't see Barry as qualified to conduct trade negotiations with Beijing or talk nukes with Tehran. Biden brings the campaign a much-needed sense of gravitas that will prevent Obama's candidacy from drifting out into the rhetorical stratosphere like an errant Thanksgiving Day ballon. The 'scrappy kid from Scranton' will also play the hatchet man, a much-needed role in the campaign given that Obama has now decided to go negative (how many houses does McCain have?) and that he's so bad at it (while McCain is a practiced assassin).

And why not Hillary? Again, a sign of insecurity. Most likely Obama feared he would be over-shadowed by someone more respected and experienced than himself, whose fanbase is almost as large. The junior Senator's supporters will argue this Hillary represents the status quo, and this is after all the ticket of change (does Joe Biden fit that bill?) There is also the possibility Hillary wouldn't take the VP spot even if it was offered. I'm still convinced the Clintons worked against Kerry in 2004 to position Her First Lady-ship for 2008. On His triumphant entry into Denver, Barak looks increasingly vulnerable in an election that should be a slam-dunk. If McCain wins (and somehow the world doesn't end) the Democracts will be too immobilized by their Obama-hangover to resist Hillary '12.

It's still difficult to imagine a scenario in which Obama could lose. Given my aversion to McCain and my belief that the strength of democracy is balance, I'm not sure that would be a bad thing. Besides, I don't think Barry could hang on for more than four year, and I see an attractive potential replacement,

Romney-Jindal 2012, anyone?

We Post. You Decide

2008-08-21T13:35:00.004-10:00

Thank you to the hundreds of 301NIB viewers who responded to our Captioning contest. We've received so many captions that right now we're undecided as to how to choose a winner. (Our original plan to have a Chinese gymnastics judge pick the gold medal winner seems unwise given their recent track record.) We wanted to avoid the controversy surrounding our last contest at all costs.

So, we've developed a compromise. Our editors have chosen the five best captions submitted to us here at our World Headquarters. We will list them below so that you, our loyal viewers, can have the final say in this matter. Look over the captions and then vote for your favorite in our poll on the right. You will ultimately determine our champion for 2008

Here are our finalists:

1) This is a sport that Canadians like to term "Getting rid of the damn-border-crossing-Yankees."

Kim
Bartlesville, OK

2) "Okay...just look through the scope and find the crosshairs. Then, place those crosshairs over the picture of Mike Huckabee..."

Todd
Elk Grove, CA

3) "C'mon Meg… just pull the trigger already! I don't know how it works either! When I was your age all we got to do for fun was throw rocks eh!"

Joe
Tucson, AZ

4)"Meg, I already told you - Hello Kitty doesn't make a .22 calibre rifle!"

P-dog
Edmonton, AB

5) "Listen up, Meg. The thing on top you use to scope the target is called the 'viewer'. And that switch underneath that triggers the bullet is called the 'switch'."

Bella
Hoffman Estates, IL

You can email you vote or text the word 'caption' to 83775 (Standard Rates Apply). Remember: A person who doesn't vote is no better off than someone who can't vote.

The River Wild

2008-08-20T06:51:00.007-10:00

If you're a read of my sister's blog you already know one of the highlights of Strate-palooza was a rafting trip down the middle-fork of the Flathead river. (You can read her version of the trip here) Like her, many of you probably envision a rafting trip as a leisurely jaunt down a mountain stream, an opportunity to enjoy the scenic nature of the Rocky Mountains. You might expect to relax, talk with friends, or even engage in some friendly splashing contests with passing rafts.

Oh, how naive you all are.

What you people don't seem to realize is that a river-rafting trip is a like a courtship with death. The river is not a recreational medium, it is a deadly adversary full of jagged rocks, swirling pools, floating logs and other debris, and a series of rapids with frightening names like 'Bonecrusher', 'Toiletbowl', 'Jack-knife', and 'Manny'. One minute you're staring at an eagle's nest up in the trees, the next you're upside down in the water underneath your raft being choked by your own life-jacket.

We are only alive to tell his story because of the expertise and courage of Federico, our rafting guide. He spent the first twenty minutes of our three-hour tour impressing upon us that river-rafting was a dangerous business, a lot of hard work, and that at no time should we be enjoying ourselves. Knowing that our skill with the paddle could save our lives, Federico put us to work. We learned all the techniques...forward....back.....right-forward, left-back....right-southeast, left-north-by-northwest. By the end of the first hour we were qualified to row one of the great Roman galleons of the Punic Wars.

A fine judgement of character, Federico selected me to be co-captain of our tiny crew. (This is why you see me seated up front.) But sadly, not everyone in our party took his instructions as seriously as I did. One individual (for privacy's sake I'll call her 'chatty Angela') decided she didn't need any instructions and could spend the whole trip gabbing with the person next to her. In so doing, she showed blatant disregard for her own safety and the safety of the rest of us. After several stern warnings we had to throw her overboard.

Another passenger tried to start a mutiny aboard the vessel by refusing to listen to Federico, even arguing with him about rowing techniques and property boat safety. It was unfortunate that she jeopardized the safety of the entire crew with her poor attitude. It's this younger generation. Here's poor Federico, just trying to keep us alive. In addition to the plethora of natural hazards, he has to deal with the passengers who don't take that river seriously. Thankfully, she and Federico later reconciled, and by the end of the trip I think she even asked for his phone number.

Despite these setbacks we made it safely down the river with only minor casualties. Jake lost his paddle at one point and had to swim for it. It was an incredibly hot day, so many of us took advantage of a slow spot to jump in. That's when we got to meet Mr. Hypothermia. I realize that successive years in Thailand and Hawaii have compromised my ability to deal with cold temperatue, but I swear this was the coldest water I have ever known. Thankfully, Kaddi pulled me from the glacial torrent before the river claimed me as its own.

No, I can't say we enjoyed our time on the river. But we did survive.

Over-sized Life-Jacket says "Forget the dangerous rapids everyone - it's a camera!"

Captioning the Moments 2008

2008-08-16T17:30:00.005-10:00

At 301NIB we received hundreds of emails and letters every month asking us to bring back the photo caption contest. Now that its summertime and our writers are completely out of ideas, we've decided to comply. If you missed the original contest based on a photo taken outside of Wat Pra Kaew in Bangkok, you can look back on it here.

Here's this year's photo taken at the grandparents ranch up in Alberta:

Just write a clever caption for this picture and enter it in as a comment, or submit it to our editors at srstrate@gmail.com. The winner will be showered with praise and non-existent prizes. The losers will be taunted and booed until my throat is sore. (As always, if no one enters 301NIB reserves the right to write its own captions and submit them under fictitious names).

It's a mad, Mad-town: Part I

2008-08-13T08:28:00.006-10:00

I can only describe my trip back to Madison as bittersweet. The travel aspect proved to be extremely painful (and expensive), the unloading and loading of our possessions exhausting, and the visit itself proved fraught with nostalgia. But I was also looking forward to re-visiting the university, attending church with our former ward, and re-connecting with friends.

The most exciting prospect of my return was an invitation to stay at Chez Schaefer. After all, how many times in one's life does one get a backstage pass to hang out with the Rock Star?

It's not a man-crush...

The Rock Star is an individual who has received mentioned several times on 301NIB, but deserves a more formal introduction. I first became acquainted with the great man while we were moving into our apartment. The buzzer rang and after saying hello I heard a voice say, "Hey, is this the Mormon family that just moved in?"

But I only began to comprehend the man's truly Rock Star nature when I accompanied him on a speaking assignment at the Beaver Dam branch northeast of Madison. Watching him 'meet and greet' with the members as they arrived for Sacrament meeting was like watching Bono mesmerize a concert audience during the Joshua Tree tour. People naturally gravitate towards that handshake and intoxicating smile. This guy truly is what the Mack Strate only pretends to be. Women love him, men want to be him.

Lights, Camera, Mayhem

Besides the Rock Star himself, the Casa Del Schaefer is home to another ground-breaking artist, an innovative young film-maker who produces movie-shorts that shatter the industry's conventions. My own interest in theater production caused me to watch his technique with fascination. Whereas most directors spend several minutes (if not days) conceptualizing and then setting up shots, Vadar prefers complete spontaneity. Friday afternoon I watched him shoot a film by throwing his camera off his bed and allowing it to bounce several times. The dialogue consisted mainly of shouting and some singing of primary songs. The violence of it all was appalling, and yet strangely compelling - he treats his equipment with the reckless disregard of a (dare I say it?) Rock Star, who vindictively smashes his quitar after a brilliant performance.

301NIB is currently in talks with Vadar in the hopes he will direct our next internet video.

No, really...we're just friends

It was great to be able to hang out with Steve this weekend. Between moving our stuff out, running various errands, and the constant partying, we spent so much time together people may questioned the nature of our relationship. For example...

Since I need to pick up a rechargeable phone and a padlock for the moving van, we loaded everyone into the mini-van for a family trip to Target. As we walked through aisles Jake wanted to hold hands with both Steve and I, and of course he wanted us to swing him into the air over and over. It was a touching scene - a carefree lad out with his two dads.

On the way home we stopped at a home improvement store to pick up some paint brushes. After searching for several minutes without finding what we needed, we stopped someone in a red vest for directions. "Hey, can you tell us where to find those special foam brushes?" I considered buying a pneumatic drill or maybe a pressure washer just to make things a bit more masculine.

At the end of the weekend, the Rock Star and I both bolted church early on our way out of town. Since he was running late I dropped him off at the airport and carried in some boxes. Not knowing when we'd see each other again, he gave me the trademark bear hug as we said good-bye. In some cities that might draw some questioning looks as people secretly wondered if we'd just finished herding sheep in the mountains of Wyoming. But this was Madison. I didn't see anything but approving glances from people thinking, "Wow, good for them."

Coming soon in Part II : If it doesn't fit...she must forget

A Tale of Hunger and Heroism

2008-08-12T07:08:00.006-10:00

The journey is over - I have made it to the great valley. Over the past two days I drove a wagon-train of our belongings across the great plains from Madison to Provo. I arrived in Utah early Wednesday morning in a half-delirious state. After running several tests, doctors diagnosed me as suffering from a combination of allergies, overexhaustion, and Obama-fatigue.

Thankfully, the trip was mostly uneventful. With a Penske moving van as my faithful steed I enjoyed good weather untill hitting a few thunderstorms in Nebraska, causing me to stay the night in the tiny hamlet of York. The road was lonely - my only companion being a bag of Brach's chocolate covered raisins given to me in Madison by a considerate friend. We were quite a team, those raisins and I, until tragedy stuck on the north fork of the Platte river. As we meandered through a construction zone the truck hit a pothole, sending my beautiful blue Brach's bag bouncing out of the cupholder and down underneath the passengers seat. Since the cab was packed with household items that wouldn't fit in the cargo hold, it proved impossible to retrieve the raisins while steering the truck.

They were trapped.

I tried to forget about it. After all, I could buy another bag at the next town. But the thought of all that chocolatey goodness melting on the floor of the cab, and possibly getting on our HP printer, plagued my thoughts mile after mile, like a splinter in my brain - driving me mad. I knew I must take action. After pulling the truck over to the side of the road I began reaching down for the raisins, to no avail. I tried approaching the stranded victims from the passenger door, but quickly realized this could trigger an avalanche of televisions, shoes, footballs, lamp shades, and other sundry items. The situation seemed hopeless, my raisins destined for the dustbin of history. Despite the hopeless situation, I counseled them to stay alive - I would find them.

They say that when humans are confronted with intense trauma they are often capable of either superhuman strength or flashes of inspiration. Such was my good fortune on that fateful day. Just when all seemed lost, and I was preparing to consign my raisins to their floor-mat tomb, I saw my opportunity. The island separating the passenger foot-spaces had a cover on it. By removing this plastic shield I created a passageway of life, which I used to reach through the maze of household items and retrieve my beloved snack.

Where once there had been only defeat and hunger, there was now hope and sustenance. The raisins returned to their place of prominence on the dash below the radio.

Then I ate them.

Debating a Symbol

2008-08-05T07:43:00.003-10:00

Normally, only one thing could divert my attention from the beautiful mountain lakes and crystal-clear rivers of Montana's Flathead valley - chocolate covered raisins. But today I make an exception for - who else? - Obama. A few days ago I saw McCain's recent campaign ad dismissing Obama as celebrity, even going so far to compare him to Britney Spears and Paris Hilton. I happy to think this is a brilliant ad, one the Obama campaign should be very afraid of, because it articulates what I and many others think about His One-ness. He is a media creation, running mainly on his race, with almost no experience or credentials to recommend him to the highest office in the land.

But more importantly, the ad illustrates so well why conservatives have labeled McCain, "St. John." For two decades the man has built a reputation as an infallible martyr despite being one of the most ruthless politicians in Washington. Who was it that bitterly attacked Bush in 2000 for a negative phone campaign (which the McCain camp could never prove)? Who was it that stood beside John Kerry and denounced the Swift boaters as an example of what's wrong with politics? Who was it that said he looked forward to a civil campaign on the issues against his good friend Hillary Clinton? Despite this pious rhetoric, McCain has shown that he is a realist. He can not win this campaign on issues, and he knows it. He will try to take the thing everyone loves about Obama (his Obama-ness) and make it a weakness.

In many ways McCain is a noble man, but his 'fair-play and decency' facade is just that. It is one of the many tools St. John uses to portray himself as being above the fray, a 'reach across the aisle' compromiser. In reality, it is a political tool that he doesn't hesitate to use against friend and foe alike. McCain is the prison chaplain who places the wafer on your tongue with his right hand while he shivs you in the ribs with his left.

My reservations about The One notwithstanding, I will not shed a tear when McCain loses in November. Prepare yourselves for a post-racial rapture.

Ain't no party like a small-town party

2008-07-31T14:10:00.010-10:00

You say you've never been to a small-town parade in Southern Alberta? Well, pull up your lawn chair, get the kids in the stroller, and prepare get nostalgic as 301NIB takes you on tour through a town that hasn't changed since the post-war era. Our photo-essay gives all the excitement of Magrath Days and doesn't try to hit you in the face with a lollipop.

At an A-list event like Magrath Days the security is extremely tight.

The Spirit of Magrath marching band helps keep the spirit of British imperialism alive.

The Strate Round-up carriage won a red-ribbon for best family float. (That's first-place to you and me.)

Each year the parade's major plot device involves whether or not some unfortunate child will end up under the wheels of a float as they reach for that elusive tootsie roll.

Underneath the glamour and gloss of Magrath Days lies a sinister purpose - free advertising for heartless corporate titans.

The Magrath Young Women demonstrate what a fantastic time our pioneer ancestors had pulling handcarts across the plains.

Just when you think the parade has plateaued, they take it up a notch - old people in power chairs!

Rocky Mountain Refreshment

2008-07-29T07:16:00.005-10:00

No visit to Alberta is complete without a stop at Waterton National Park. If it's summertime, we always take visitors to see the Rocky peaks and cold mountain lakes of this protected refuge. In fact, I'm quite certain that if you try to return to the US without proof of having visited Waterton, Canadian customs will drag you out of your car and force you to attend a screening of Strange Brew before allowing you to cross the border. It's that important.

Some of the best memories of my youth involve trying to hike my way up Red Rock Canyon. As a kid it was always a contest to see who could get the farthest without getting your shoes wet. By the end, of course, everyone is completely drenched and ends up sitting on a towel in the car for the long ride home. Red Rock Canyong was also a great place to take a date, because the girl would always need to hold your hand as you crossed over the stream. You might even have to grab her around the waist one or twice to keep her from falling in the water.

This time, however, my constant companion was a little krabby patty strapped to my back. Chubber Chalong enjoyed hiking up the canyon, but with his added girth I didn't make it to 'the slide', which is generally the endpoint during these excursions. Aside from my dad offering my mom one hundred dollars to go down the slide, the highlight was watching cousins from Florida and New Mexico dip their feet into a glacial stream for the first time.

There's nothing like icy-numb extremities to let you know you're in Canada.

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Equestrian skills, Softball, and The One

2008-07-25T04:53:00.002-10:00

So here we are now in Canada. We loaded up the van in California with as many of our possession as would fit and the kids sat like living corpses in their traveling coffins while we drove the 1295 miles from Sacramento to Magrath. The drive from Monida pass (Idaho-Montana border) to Helena still feels like traveling across the top of the world. A man feels small underneath that enormous sky.

The Strate-palooza has gone well despite my repeated attempts to disfigure myself. As soon as we arrived Meg was anxious to ride grandpa's horses, but unfortunately the riding equipment was not made for a man of my tremendous girth. (Mmmmm....girthy.) Only five minutes into the ride our horse made a unexpected turn, the saddle strap broke, and I ended up on my back with Meg on top of me. Conventional widsom says that when you fall off a horse, you need to get right back on it again. Well, screw conventional wisdom. The next time Meg rides I'll be walking in front of her with the reins in my hand. (Is it bad form to punch a horse in the face?)

The second day we were here was the opening day of the Magrath softball tournament. After scorching a double into left-center I got caught in a run-down between second and third. I somehow managed to fall on my face, tearing a hole in my sweats, and an even larger hole in my knee. The only thing that hurts more than the injury is the constant reminders from relatives, "Hey Shane...remember how there was no one even around you at third and you still face-planted?"

But the most painful aspect of all has been the coverage of the Obama campaign. Even here north of the border Obama's European tour is the top story. I think that most of us can safely say we have never seen a Presidential candidate like this in our lifetime. The National Review crowd is rightly deriding him for acting like he is already President (you want to speak at Brandenburg gate....seriously?) but why should he not? The world and especially the press has so little regard for Bush and fawns over Barack like a baby deer, the man is just acting the part.

And finally the though occurred to me - what if he doesn't win? I realize that this is a remoted possibility. The media has already handed him the election, he is leading in key swing states, there is not conceivable scenario in which he could not beat a tired, uninspiring, war-monger like John McCain. But what if he doesn't? The shock of a McCain victory would dwarf the 'Dewey defeats Truman' election as the biggest upset in American history.

This is why I think America is almost trapped into voting for Obama. He is inexperienced, ill-informed, and incredibly self-obsessed. But if he loses, the media will demand to know why. They will spend weeks and months analyzing how it was possible for a young, articulate, energetic, inspiring candidate could possibly be defeated given the unpopularity of the war and the state of the economy.

It's not difficult to imagine the conclusion they will offer.

Pictures from Pleasure Island

2008-07-18T06:56:00.010-10:00

Spencer, Grant, and Jake smother Chubber-Chalong
Luke and Kelsey
McKay, Isabelle, and Meg
Lampwick vandalizes the court
Meg and Isabelle
The Flash with new cousin Cole
Zac, anonymous friend, Whitey, Spencer, and Noah

So what's your dissertation about?

2008-07-10T11:10:00.003-10:00

For years I have been practicing how to answer that question. Every conversation with a friend or relative inevitable turns to that topic, and I am forced once again to stumble my way through a shoddy explanation. The reaction is always the same. The face betrays a combination of confusion and boredom, followed by a half-hearted, "That sounds interesting."

Next subject.

I certainly can't blame them. These are all intelligent people. They didn't understand my explanation because I didn't understand it. I knew the questions I was asking, I just didn't have the language to formulate a dissertation into a refrigerator magnet. It's like taking four hundred gallons of sea water and trying to distill it into a single glass of drinkable water.

But today I had a breakthrough.

My dissertation explores nationalism. (For those of you who don't have a copy of Ben Anderson on your nightstand, nationalism involves the study of how groups of people imagine themselves as having things in common with other groups of people. We are a nation because we share common traits. These can be a common language, religion, ethnicity, or political philosophy.)

In Thailand, historians have always credited two institutions with creating a sense of community: Buddhism and the monarchy. I will argue that a third factor has been overlooked - the collective memory of national humiliation.

Thailand's loss of territory to French imperialism created deep scars on the national psyche. These act like traumatic childhold memories that can cause re-lapses and influence behavior later on (ie. the current political crisis over Preah Vihear).

Collective memories of victimhood form an integral part of what it means to be 'Thai'. The communal sense of resentment and bitterness towards the west provides an additional sense of cohesion to an otherwise diverse group of people. It also means that a country which was never colonized is afflicted by a post-colonial mindset.

So there it is - my future contribution to knowledge. Not as ground-breaking as Orientalism or the Bush Doctrine, but hopefully good enough to get a diploma and one day...a job.

Get to know your neighbours to the north

2008-07-01T12:24:00.005-10:00

The Death of General Woolfe

Many of you are probably unaware that today is Canada Day. Because July 1st falls so close to July 4th (Filipino-American Frienship Day) it often doesn't receive the attention it deserves. In Canada, we sometimes refer to it as 'Dominion Day', because it was on this day in 1867 that Canada became a semi-independent country. As a historian and a Canadian, I feel it's important to help educate other about our great nation.

So, here is a list of important events that happened on July 1st. I hope you enjoy your tour through our great nation's history.

1755 - British punish disloyal Acadians by forcing them to live in Louisiana.

1812 - Laura Secord walked thirty kilometers through the snow to warn the British encampment at Fitzgibbon's headquarters that Americans made really inferior chocolate bars.

1837 - Lower Canada riots due to confusion over its precise geographical relationship with Upper Canada.

1885 - While preparing himself to face the gallows, Louis Riel utters famous last phrase, "Friendly Manitoba, my a--!"

1952 - Rocket Richard torches the Capitals for five goals, then burns down Presidential Mansion during after-party.

1967 - FLQ crisis erupts after federal government tries to ban Quebecois from putting mayonaise on everything.

1983 - Captain Marc Garneau banned from future space missions after using shuttle's Canadian-made robotic arm to pick fellow astronaut's nose.

1987 - A young Mack Strate rips up Slalom course at St. Mary's reservoir following Raymond parade.

1996 - Bowling for Columbine director Michael Moore shot seven times at Toronto area bar for repeatedly saying, "No doot aboot it!"

The Prince of Wales Hotel, Waterton National Park

Lei all your love on me

2008-06-26T16:27:00.004-10:00

It's always difficult to say good-bye to a place you might never see again. Especially when that place is constantly green, located near a beach, and between 75-85 degrees year-round.

The last few weeks in Hawaii were kind of a blur. Kaddi and the kids left ten days before I did. Although they certainly won't miss Laie elementary school, the kids both had good friends that they will remember fondly. Meg probably had the hardest time saying good-bye to her primary teacher, a former member of the 80s musical group 'The Jets'. I heard her perform at the Christmas party and thought, "that beautiful mixture of pop-rhythm and melody reminds me of the The Jets." Oh, was I right.

With her well-prepared lessons and fun pizza parties, Sister Fenga gave Meg one more chance to make it real.

On our last Sunday we took part in the Aloha tradition. I confess I'd been a little worried about this since arriving in the ward. Normally you stand up at the front while the ward sings 'Aloha Hawaii,' and people come up to put leis around your neck. we hadn't been there very long and didn't know very many people. I imagined us standing up there, smiling awkwardly, while no one came up to say good-bye.

Fortunately for us, we left the same Sunday as two senior sister missionaries who were beloved by the ward. Many people passed us as they came to say good-bye to them, so it looked like the ward was truly mourning our departure. We also had a few people come up to wish us well, including our good friends Chris and Katie, who were kind enough to make beautiful flower leis for us. It was very touching.

Anyway, we spent the week getting everything cleaned up and the suitcases packed so Kaddi and the kids could make their flight to Sacramento. I heard later that they missed their flight and had to fly to Oakland and catch the shuttle to Sacramento. (That's another story for another time.) I'm not sure who was to blame, but rather than wasting a lot of time conducting a thorough investigation I just gave Jakob a thorough spanking.

Then there was nothing to keep me company but a stack of research papers and finals. I felt a little awkward going back to church by myself the next Sunday, Father's Day, especially when the ward had given us the grand sendoff the week before. I tried to sneak into the back, but was tracked down by a lovely young woman who placed a fathers-day lei around my neck and gave me a kiss on the cheek. How can one not be charmed by a tradition like that?

Move On with a Greener Kind of Candidate

2008-06-19T22:23:00.006-10:00

Whatever you might think about Barak Obama, there's no question that he is a different kind of Presidential candidate. We have never seen anything like him before. Listening to him speak is as refreshing as the smell of Old Spice deodorant on a crowded Hawaiian bus. The man is already making political history, and he's not even President yet.

As the candidate for change, Obama is not weighed down by the conventional baggage that comes with being a Washington insider. Unlike your typical Republican candidate, he hasn't surrounded himself with lobbyists or shady advisors who got sweet-heart deals from unethical mortgage companies. Nor will he be bothered by restraints like 'executive experience'. He's completely unhampered by any knowledge of the economy or foreign policy matters. This guy's so fresh he makes Presidental candidate John Kennedy look like Strom Thurmond.

And let's face it, America needs the completely new perspective Obama will bring in order to transcend its tragic racial past. Do you think McCain would have the foresight to ask two Muslim women wearing headscarves to move out of the camera shot during his campaign speech? Of course not. It takes a special kind of politician to show that type of leadership.

Never before have we had a candidate courageous enough to reject the limitations of public funds after promising he would accept them only months ago. This intrepid move will allow the Democrats to outspend the Republicans 2-1 over the course of the campaign. Others might characterize this as a flip-flop, but I recognize it as a bold move toward equality. After all, Republicns have been buying elections for years.

Yes, years from now I'll be able to tell my grandchildren that I witnessed the moment when America finally began caring for the poor and providing jobs for the unemployed.. When the earth began to heal and the oceans began to subside. And I was here to witness the greatness of the man responsible for it all, a man brave enough to move away from the tired, empty, hopeless rhetoric of the....what?....

Oh man...I've got to go. John McCain just stopped by to force Luke into the marine corp.

(You can't have him...John.)

That's why I was salesman of the month

2008-06-15T21:07:00.004-10:00

Now that the family is gone I'm in charge of selling our car. I've spent the past week looking for efficient methods of advertising. Then I realized - Why do I need the classifieds? I have access to 301NIB...a website viewed by up to one dozen people every day!

Let's start the bidding...

Wouldn't you like to experience a new standard of luxury?

It's the type of automobile that tells people, "Why yes, I am living here temporarily."

Enjoy a driving tour of the island in beautiful buckets seats made of leathery goodness.

Vehicle also includes:

1) Head and tail lights.

2) Standard built-in crock pot.

3) 4.3 pounds of sand.

4) A engine specially modified to run on either gasoline or aloha spirit.

Asking Price: Two Costco containers of Kirkland chocolate covered raisins (o.b.o.)

Le voleur qui sourit

2008-06-11T21:13:00.001-10:00

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Meet the Swappers

2008-06-07T10:16:00.003-10:00

We never did make it down to Honolulu to walk through the swap meet. But today I witnessed a display of capitalist carnage no less fearsome, if on a smaller scale.

Since TVA is such a transient community, we have our own little swap meet every Saturday on the side road that runs past the university. Kaddi gathered up almost everything we'd purchased while here in Hawaii (except our vacuum and television, both too precious to part with just yet), and I loaded them into the car for everal trips out to swap-meet road.

I have to admit I was a little skeptical. After all, who sells their second-hand items by the roadside? Who buys items that way? This isn't Thailand.

As it turns out...it IS Thailand. We arrived at about 9 AM and almost all the prime real estate was already taken. There were tables and shelves set up. People selling DVD's, CD's, bikes, shelves, furniture, rice-cookers, books, Christmas trees, dishware, toys, and everything else.

And these sellers can be competitive. We almost got into it ("Are we doing this?") with the Vietnamese lady stationed next to us after she kept tipping over a bike she felt was positioned too close to her blanket display.

Merchandise moves fast. By the time I arrived with the second carload of goods, Kaddi had sold most of the first load. By the time I took the above photo, several moms had already purchased the household items (and their kids had broken the toys).

Kaddi's such a trooper she's decided to stay there until everything sells. I volunteered to come home so that Luke could take a nap.

I need a bath