A new SO...

I admit it.  I have been unfaithful to my blog.  I have a new SO, one equally beguiling and one that can and does consume my days.  It makes me want to wander, hand in hand as we discover old and shared memories.  Yes, I wait for notice, and hope that my devotion to the whole process is rewarded with an email, or a buzz on my Blackberry.  Yes, I have fallen for Facebook, and I am the proud "owner" of my own page with more than 40 friends

As a college administrator, I have been well aware of the many social networking sites.  I was once on the site, but was too cautious to keep it--it does require constant monitoring so photos of yourself skinny dipping at Half Moon Beach in Eau Claire with Denise...wait, that didn't happen, or if it did, it was too dark for photos.  I should know.  Besides, I am aware that Facebook did start as a "college-age" only social networking site.  I felt old--more about that in a minute.

But if that slap on the head about age didn't scare me off, another drew me even more towards the site.  I don't know how it happened, but this summer, I will have my 30th high school class reunion.  Yep, the mighty mighty Old Abes, class of 1979, are celebrating the tri-decinial (is that a word?) of our being "let out" into the real, post-high school world.  Again, how did that happen?  Most days, I don't feel a day over, say, 48!  I guess denial, however diligently practiced, cannot change the passage of time.

So back to Facebook.  It is the new Christmas card, the method in which you keep in (marginal) touch with people who you know that in theory that you should keep in touch with...and of course hope that they aren't English teachers who would deconstruct this sentence.  Increasingly, us "old" people are flocking or using our walkers to join Facebook.  More than 38% of users are over 35.  More than 50% are over 25.  Granted, the class of '79 probably pushes those demographics a bit, but we prove that you can teach an Old Abe new tricks.

I have to admit that joining this new media world has caused me twinges, and I am not the only one who faces etiquette questions that come up when sharing your space on Facebook.  One friend is friends with his teenage son.  Yes, another way to communicate, but there is a lot of personal information on a Facebook page.  I bet there is more than one teen who has been busted by an "elder" parent by an untoward note posted on their wall, or a photo posted that shows an underage beer or two.  I asked to be friends with my friend's son, but I did so awkwardly.

I feel the same way about "friending" my students.  Is it kind of creepy friending a 20-year old student?  Do they think that it is creepy for the old professor to be "lurking" on their pages?  Is a shared history or photo class enough to be such public friends?  I am not sure.  And I am not sure that I should or have to worry that much about it.  Most of my students were just glad to flee the class, and any warm feelings for me probably disappeared when they found out they earned a B- and not their desired grade.  A few have risen to the challenge but only a few.

All that said, I have found Facebook a great way to connect to the people that I grew up with, the people who actually saw me in a leisure suit, people who I danced with (yep, I danced, and disco did rock) and drank with at Shenanigans, and people with whom I suffered and shared the angst and awkwardness of those painful teenage years.  Some people, or "friends" mean more than others--my eighth grade girl friend is on there, the first professed love of my life.  My best friend and partner in crime through junior high and part of high school is there--who would have thought we would have driven, without licenses, to see some in-town girls--perhaps alcohol might have been involved?  And there are a few friends who are even closer friends now, even after all these years.  And there are many others who are my friends who have shaped my life during that important time, and some who continue to shape and influence my life in these times.

So I will stay on it for now, and share more of life than I am sometimes want to or am able to do with a diverse group of people who shared a common experience called high school.  Ask to be my friend--I am sure I will say yes, and welcome a chance to say hello to an old friend.

Before the new can come...

Today it was official and public that I am leaving (reluctantly?  unexpectedly?) Whatcom, and beginning a new adventure, though it will be a protracted, six month good-bye.  I have to admit that I was a bit shy at work today.  I would say about 3/4 of the people I saw in the halls avoided mentioning it all, and the other 25% were very kind.  Several people who mentioned it were exceptionally and sometimes unexpectedly kind.  I am touched.

There have been no shortage of suggestions of how to handle all of this.  The best that I have heard so far, and the one that I am trying to follow above all else is this:  How you leave the room is sometimes just as important as how you enter the room.  I have to work at Whatcom for possibly the next six months, and I have to depend on all those who I work for and with for my success during this time.  Probably, for my future job(s), too.  So, I am working hard at learning how to leave a room.

One person, a person who I really respect, shared the following, and I also strongly believe this:

旧的不去，新的不来

 

jiu de bu qu, xin de bu lai

 

"If the old does not go, the new will not come."

There are multiple interpretations and views of this statement.  I have to figure out which one to choose, as it will really affect my attitude as I leave the room.  Interestingly enough, all of the photos that I have taken in the past few days really tell me the same thing...

Fat Cat...

OK, my humiliation is complete.  Not only will I post yet another sunset photo tonight, I am posting a picture of a cat.  This cat shares some of my space, so I have to interact with it occasionally.  As far as they go, this is less annoying than some, and actually, I am embarrassed to say, I (secretly) kind of like it.  I would say this cat likes me, but I know that it only tolerates me because I give it more treats than it deserves.  Still, it is a pretty good photo, considering it is a photo of a cat.

Econ 101, an active learning lesson...

Today I was wandering around, as is often my want, with no real goal or destination in mind, though I did hope for an open place for a haircut. (I think that shows my tonsorial level of sophistication—look for a place that cuts hair on Sunday…) I found a suitable place to stop, a strip mall with a SuperMasterBudgetSharpClipperShort Cuts. Next to it was a Trader Joes, and right across the street was a “Just Deals” store. What I found in all three places and with my own life was really an econ lesson, so with apologies to Professors Oyen and Young, my college Econ profs, here is what I learned.

Just Deals is a remainder shop, a scratch and dent store of unimaginable and chaotic variety. Coffee is next to Crispettes, a store-brand knock-off of Rice Crispies. Cat food and treats are in the same aisle as the cooking and cleaning supplies, and the Motrin is well, next to everything and anything else you might imagine. Almost all of it is out of date. The soda has a sell date of 2007, but is only $4.50 for 24 20oz bottles. Big boxes of cereal were 2/$2.99. That Motrin mentioned above? An early 2008 “use-by” date and $1.99 for 24 tablets. Who knew cat and dog food had sell by dates? There was nothing fresh in the store—I was surprised that I didn’t find a box of Twinkies from before the turn of century, though to be fair, that would still make the Twinkies edible. Additionally, 80% of the store was made up of brands that I have never heard of. Think of it—go in a grocery store and imagine seeing all these things that you recognize, like cereal, health and beauty supplies or you name it, and noticing that you could only recognize the brand name 20% of the time. Madison Avenue would be devastated.

Across the street was Trader Joes, a store that I once thought only sold the infamous “two buck Chuck” wine. They do sell that, though it is now 2.99 to buy a bottle of Charles Shaw wine. The store is really a cult high-end grocery store. Much of the store is “Trader Joe” branded goods, but most would say that brand is pretty gourmet. For example, they have rice crispie treats, but they are made out of organic brown rice. I wonder if they use organic marshmallows? It is meticulously organized—the coffee is next to, well, the coffee. Anyone with previous grocery store experience would find it easy to navigate—there is no serendipity here, no hope of finding taco-mix just down from the t-shirts. If you want to find crackers, all you really need to know is if you want ones that are made from hand ground wheat, touched and blessed by scarce monks from somewhere, and lightly salted with sea salt from the Bothnian Sea. Bonus points to those who might know where that sea is…

What a contrast between the two stores. Both were equally busy, but with predictably different shoppers. But more evident was the simple difference in the things for sale—the quality, the freshness, the selection, the organization all went to Trader Joe’s. I don’t know—does it matter if your cookies or condoms or shampoo or cans of soup or mystery meat for your beast are out of date? Maybe not. $20 would go a whole lot further in the Just Deals store than in Trader Joes. And that is the point, I guess. People are increasingly looking to make that $20 go further. Even my upscale salon visit (and I use the term “salon” rather loosely, and the term upscale incorrectly) was less than $15 with a tip, and my “stylist” noted that they were busy with more clients who used to spend more on their hair. I think, (as limited by my failing memory from my econ classes, that is termed substitution—I need a hair cut, so I go to stylist in the strip mall rather than the mall. I need food, so I go to Just Deals instead of to a name-brand grocery. And I think that this is the economic slow down that many are missing. It isn’t always doing with less, but doing it with other things to meet a need. It isn’t just going to Just Deals rather than Trader Joes. It’s a used car rather than a new car, or to make it even closer to home, going to Whatcom instead of Western. I see a huge trend in this part of the economic slowdown.

This has all been brought home to me, and I now do realize even more so that no one is immune from the incredible economic mess that we are in. On Friday afternoon, I received official notice that I have been selected to play the exciting game of, “You Have Been Let Go Because of the Economy.” It’s a new game that that 651,001 people got to play last week and it’s caught on so fast that now 8.1% of the workforce now play this increasingly desperate game. I am afraid that it will only get more popular. I am hard pressed to complain. I received six months notice—far too may receive six minutes notice or even less. And it was done kindly, or as kindly as one can ever have this done to them.

I am not or did not shop out of necessity at the Just Deals store—that was more of a sociological field trip. All I bought was a set of water color paints—how could they go bad? I won’t have to shop there out of need, I hope. Before my contract ends in September, I will make more in wages than the average wage of many if not most single people in Whatcom County during an entire year. I have little to complain about. I will be able to buy at least name-brand cans of soup for the foreseeable future. It will be an adventure again, as I weigh my options and start looking. It is a bit different in the market—more than 30% of the states are cutting higher ed by more than 5%, so the market for jobs is a bit ugly out there.

As I wrote in one of my earliest blogs, “Man plans, and God laughs.” I can hear the laughter now… I have to admit that it may be a bit before I am laughing along with her/him. But, as they say, I am safe and warm and know where my next meal is coming from and I bet I can predict that I will be able to find the one after that, too. That is two out of five “needs” met, so Maslow is happy. And so am I. The other levels, well, they will come again.

Falls, once again

I think I have told you and certainly all my photos of water have shown you how important water and the sound of it is to me.  I think, and I have told some of you this, that this can be traced to my days when I was at Purdue finishing up my dissertation.  I would teach all day, go take a nap, and then come back to the university about 7:00 and then write and organize until 11:45.  I would then go outside to the fountain and look at it and listen for 15 minutes, until they shut it off.  I would collect my thoughts, think about what I was writing and what I had to write yet that night.  Once the fountain "powered down" for the night, I would go back to my office and write for three or four more hours.  It was the most productive time of my life and in some ways the most fulfilling.  I will never forget all of those processes, but I will never forget the "noises" that made them happen.

So why all the waterfalls?  When I am in front of them, I could stay for hours.  They captivate me--almost 25 years later, I still immediately place myself in front of that fountain, and I think the same things.  I think of what I have done, and what I need to do.  I know that I could get one of those little fountains and Sharper Image or even Walgreens, but sitting in front of these falls, watching it, and more remarkably, feeling them, I am in awe of the power.  And the beauty.  These are from Whatcom Falls park, that city park that I can literally walk to.