I'll probably be the last person in Atlanta to have a land-line phone. I've had the same number since it was DRake 3 instead of 373. That's more than 40 years.
Over those forty years, I've fought a battle of wits and technology to keep my phone free for my friends and neighbors, and to keep it free of junk phone calls of all sorts. The Federal do-not-call list has helped, although the politicians exempted themselves and certain others. Grrrr... Laws regulating automated phone calls with recorded messages have also helped. But, as with the do-not-call list, there are exceptions. There's also very little enforcement. Some companies simply ignore the law.
A somewhat newer threat is the predictive dialer. It's a computer system that uses statistical models to predict how many calls are likely to be answered at a given time. It also uses statistics to try to predict when human "agents" will be available to be connected to an auto-dialed call. The idea is that the computer dials calls and detects when a call is answered. It then connects that call to an agent, thereby getting around laws against recorded announcements and keeping the agents busy talking instead of dialing.
So, if you get a call and say something like, "Hello? Bob Brown speaking," and there's silence, then a click, then someone saying, "May I speak to Bob Brown?" you've been called by a predictive dialer. The "agent" never heard you identify yourself because he or she wasn't connected until after you answered. (Hilton Hotels is infamous for this. They think the time of their telemarketing agents is more valuable than the time of their guests. Remember that the next time you need a hotel!)
There's an even worse evil in predictive dialers: hang-up calls. The financial imperative in a predictive dialer operation is to keep the agents busy. So, the machinery is adjusted to place more calls than there are agents to answer them. What happens when the computer has an answer but no agent to put on the line? You guessed it in one! The computer hangs up in your ear. There's a Federal regulation that says they can't "abandon" more than 2% of dialed calls, but guess what... there's no way to measure that from the outside looking in, and so that regulation is even more likely to be ignored than others.
If you're getting a lot of "hang-up calls," it's more likely predictive dialers than someone deliberately trying to harass you. Grrrrr...
There are even more legitimate wrong numbers than there used to be. Fifty years ago, the phone company assigned telephone numbers carefully, and in a way that meant a single mis-dialed digit was more likely to reach a fast busy signal than a wrong number. (That fast busy is called a reorder tone by the phone company, and unassigned numbers, called "vacant numbers," were connected to the reorder tone.)
Now we're so short of phone numbers that almost all available numbers are in use. It got so bad that we kicked Mexico out of the North American Numbering Plan in 1991. Area code 706, which used to be northwest Mexico, is now assigned to Georgia, roughly north of the fall line. So, even with the same number of mistakes in dialing, there are more wrong numbers because there are more numbers in use.
The last source of annoying calls I want to gripe about is debt collectors. I pay my bills on time, but I also have a very common name, and debt collectors troll through the phone listings, hoping to hit upon the person they're looking for. So, I get calls for Richard Brown and Rachael Brown and Roger Brown and Rosa Brown. Not to mention calls for the innumerable other Robert Browns who might be behind on a bill or two. AAaarrgghh!
I had a non-published number for a long time, which kept it out of the hands of trolling debt collectors. When the economy went down the tubes, Georgia began to furlough college teachers, and I gave up the non-published number to save a few bucks each month. Big mistake! As soon as my name appeared in the book, I started getting more junk calls. (It's non-published again, but it'll take years to undo the damage done by letting it be listed.)
What to do? What to do?
Well, the first line of defense is that non-published number. That'll keep you off a bunch of lists and stop the debt-collector trolls in their tracks. Do not believe you can become anonymous by using just an initial or two. Listing myself as "Brown, R." got me calls for Rosa and Roger and Richard and Rachael. Unless your name is Theophilus McNulty (yes, I actually did know someone of that name) you probably want to keep it out of the phone book. Maybe even if it is Theophilus McNulty.
Next, get anonymous call rejection from the phone company. That'll intercept calls that don't send caller ID at all. Your phone will never ring. (No, I don't own stock in AT&T, but maybe I should buy some!)
That's about all the phone company can do for you. Now it's time for self-help. I have a few old telephones; they're not true antiques, they work on modern phone lines, but I like showing them off. Some years ago I bought a little phone system (Panasonic KX-TA824) to supply dial tone to my old phones. When my answering machine died, I bought an inexpensive Panasonic voice mail system. (This was before budget cuts and furloughs.) It turns out that you can make these gadgets do automated attendant and custom call handling based on caller ID.
So, now my friends (if I've programmed in their numbers) hear, "Please wait a moment" and my phone rings. Others hear, "If you know the extension number you wish to reach..." Of course, there aren't any extension numbers in Emory Cottage, but the message concludes, "Otherwise, please press two." Any human being can get through to me by pressing two. Automated calling systems are defeated. Some predictive dialers are defeated, too. Those that detect a recording just hang up. As for the others, often by the time they connect a human, the "please press two" has already passed. I've wasted their time and my phone never rang. Good!
That was the good news about caller ID. There's some bad news, too. Any company big enough to need 23 or more phone lines can get a "primary rate interface" circuit from the phone company. If you have a PRI, you, not the phone company, decide what will be sent for caller ID. Legally, it has to be a number that you control. But, a collection agency in New York can get a cheap Atlanta cell phone and legally send a 404 number in the caller ID, making it look like a local call. And, as with the other laws pertaining to bothersome phone calls, not everyone bothers to obey the law.
The bill collector types are serious about trying to find out whether "R. Brown" is the Rudy Brown they're looking for. They'll have a real person on the line who will press two, and they'll send you bogus caller ID information to try to trick you into answering. About the best you can do is note the number and try to block future calls.
The phone company's call block service often doesn't work because it won't block out-of-area calls, and the phone company knows the "real" phone number, not what's sent as caller ID. Just telling them to buzz off doesn't work (although the law says it should) because, for each call, they're looking for a different R. Brown deadbeat and hoping it's me. Aha! My little phone system gadget can do tricks with caller ID. I've now programmed in the (mostly bogus) caller ID numbers of the most egregious callers. They get a message telling them their calls will not be connected because of misleading caller ID information, and that the best way to reach me is through a letter to my home address. The thought is that someone who really needs to reach me will actually have my home address, and if it's important enough, will drop a stamp to get in touch. The dweeb who's looking for Raymond Brown is frustrated and looks elsewhere. I hope.
That's the current state of the battle, and at the moment I'm winning. I'm sure the turkeys who want to interrupt my dinner will come up with some new way do do it and I'll have to come up with a new defense.
One last thing... you can do some call screening like I've described without buying the kind of phone gear I bought for another purpose. Type "call screener" into Google for a look at the possibilities. And, either list your full name in the phone book or have a non-published number. Listing just an initial will get you those bill collector calls.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Saturday, February 27, 2010
An Open Letter to the Georgia General Assembly
If you've read my blog before, you know that the subjects dear to my heart are education and food. Today I am writing an open letter to the members of Georgia's General Assembly on the more important of those two subjects.Dear Senators and Representatives:
We are at a critical moment in the future of higher education in Georgia.
I’m sure you know that Governor Perdue has recommended in his budget for the coming fiscal year a cut of nearly $300 million in the appropriation to the University System of Georgia. According to the Atlanta Constitution last week, you who are elected to the General Assembly are considering cuts of an additional $385 million.
This cannot be allowed to happen because a cut of this magnitude threatens Georgia’s economic future.
Some of you may not know that a study conducted by Georgia Tech in 2003 determined that University System of Georgia students who graduated from 1993 to 1997 contributed $1.25 billion to the state’s economy in 1998 alone, solely because of increased earnings due to their USG degrees. Imagine how much more University System graduates are contributing to Georgia's economy today.
Although I am a teacher in the University System, I’m not particularly worried about my own job because I’m old enough to retire and spend the rest of my days reading and writing if I need to. I am worried about our students. Cuts of the magnitude proposed will mean reductions in faculty and staff throughout the University System. That, in turn, will mean larger and fewer classes. Fewer classes will mean delayed graduation, suspended job searches, postponed weddings, and, for some, the end of the dream of a college degree. Those people won’t be making the contributions to Georgia’s economy that our graduates have made in the past, or their contributions will be delayed, perhaps for years.
Declines in tax income are a grim reality, and cuts have to come from somewhere to keep Georgia’s budget in balance. I understand that. I also understand that the General Assembly has a harder job than ever this year to find the cuts necessary to balance the budget.
However, I hope those of you elected to the General Assembly will consider the future implications of this year’s budget and find a way to continue the investment in Georgia’s economic future that is represented by the University System.
With best regards,
Bob Brown
If you want to let your elected representatives know what you think of their plans to decimate higher education in Georgia, you can find information on your elected representatives by starting here: http://www.congress.org/ and put in your ZIP code. Then fill in your complete address on the next page. You'll find links to your state senator and state representative just below the information about the governor's office.
Write an actual letter... yes, on paper... and send it to them by fax or even {gasp!} by postal mail. Do it soon, Monday or Tuesday, because they'll likely be voting on this matter next week.
In your letter, tell your elected representatives how such cuts will affect you personally and those whom you know. Express politely that you believe education is an investment in Georgia's future, and ask politely that they reconsider priorities in setting the budget for the University System. (And remember, all they can do is "reconsider priorities." They cannot borrow money or otherwise make this problem go away. Be sympathetic to the difficult job they're doing.)
You might also consider writing to Representative Earl Ehrhart, Chairman of House Appropriation Subcommittee on Higher Education, email: earl@ehrhart.4emm.com, and Senator John Wiles, Senate Appropriations Committee – Higher Education, fax: (404) 657-0459.
If you're on Facebook, there's a Facebook group, USG Students for Quality Education, devoted to this issue. The link is http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=355956350406 or just type "USG Students for Quality Education" into the search block.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Some Thoughts on Yeast
Yup, yeast. The stuff one buys in little foil packets and uses to bake bread. At least, I used to buy yeast in little foil packets until I figured out how much it was costing me.
Three of those packets (they're sold together in threes) cost $1.99 at the super market. Each packet holds 1/4 ounce, so one is paying $2.65 an ounce, and that's before taxes!
Alternatively, one can buy two pounds of yeast for about $10 and get free shipping if one is an Amazon Prime member. That's 34 cents an ounce. To look at it another way, when you've avoided buying the sixth one of those foil packet threesomes, you're money ahead.
Well, almost. Active dry yeast will keep almost indefinitely when frozen, so you'll need something to keep it in. Get one of those air-tight acrylic canisters with the lever-locking lid for another $12. Now you need to have bought 12 of those three-packs to break even. I use enough yeast to account for 30 3-packs a year, so I saved enough money in the first year to buy a pretty nice bottle of wine.
Keep the canister of yeast on the freezer door. When you need yeast, get it out, measure what you need, and put it back. Never let the contents warm up.
According to Harold McGee (author of On Food and Cooking), yeast should be dissolved in 110° water. That feels pretty hot to the touch. Use a thermometer until you have {ahem} the feel of it.
Yeast "works" best at about 95°. I put yeast breads in the oven with the light on to rise.
So, you've saved a bunch of money and you're baking better bread. Glad we had this little chat!
Three of those packets (they're sold together in threes) cost $1.99 at the super market. Each packet holds 1/4 ounce, so one is paying $2.65 an ounce, and that's before taxes!
Alternatively, one can buy two pounds of yeast for about $10 and get free shipping if one is an Amazon Prime member. That's 34 cents an ounce. To look at it another way, when you've avoided buying the sixth one of those foil packet threesomes, you're money ahead.
Well, almost. Active dry yeast will keep almost indefinitely when frozen, so you'll need something to keep it in. Get one of those air-tight acrylic canisters with the lever-locking lid for another $12. Now you need to have bought 12 of those three-packs to break even. I use enough yeast to account for 30 3-packs a year, so I saved enough money in the first year to buy a pretty nice bottle of wine.
Keep the canister of yeast on the freezer door. When you need yeast, get it out, measure what you need, and put it back. Never let the contents warm up.
According to Harold McGee (author of On Food and Cooking), yeast should be dissolved in 110° water. That feels pretty hot to the touch. Use a thermometer until you have {ahem} the feel of it.
Yeast "works" best at about 95°. I put yeast breads in the oven with the light on to rise.
So, you've saved a bunch of money and you're baking better bread. Glad we had this little chat!
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Kids! (Reprise)
Kids! They are just impossible to control,
Kids! With their awful clothes and their rock and roll!
Oh, wait! That was me!
I am extremely lucky to have been invited to judge the junior division of the Fulton County Schools' Science and Engineering Fair earlier today. The junior division is middle school students, seventh and eighth graders. I saw middle-school kids in suits and {gasp!} dresses!
OK... appearances aren't everything, and sometimes they aren't anything, but I am encouraged that these kids are learning that appearances do count. It looks like they're learning that from their parents, too. One can hope that they're learning other, equally important, lessons at home, and it seems likely they are.
In some cases the science was a little shaky, but in other cases the kids nailed it dead. What struck me in almost every instance was curiosity and a desire to learn. (These kids need to figure out that Wikipedia isn't everything, but that will come.) I met one child whom I'd be happy to have in my college classroom. I can find it in my heart to hope I live to see one of these kids become President.
Meanwhile, back in reality, I came home to read on CNN.com about a child the same age as the kids I was working with being taken away in handcuffs for doodling on a school desk with a marking pen. Morons! When I was in high school, it was not uncommon to find something like "Joe {heart-with-arrow} Cindy" actually carved into the desk with a pen knife. (All boys were Joe, Bob, or Bill, and all girls were Cindy, Kathy, or Barbara in those days.) Of course, if a boy got caught doing this, he'd find out how compatible his bottom was with the assistant principal's paddle, but no one would have even thought about it being a matter for the police. (Don't know what would have happened to a girl. As far as I know, the paddle was reserved for boys.) Having a pen knife at school today would probably get you 20 years in Leavenworth!
Modern school desks seem to be made of wood-grained impervium. A little scouring powder will remove anything. This kid probably should have had a finger shaken in her face; handcuffs are way beyond the pale.
All might not be lost. The CNN story quotes a Clayton County (Georgia) juvenile court judge as saying "zero intelligence" about such "zero tolerance" cases.
I don't have to run for election, so I can say, "dumb as a doorknob!" Parents, "zero-tolerance" laws and regulations do not protect your children; they threaten your children with arrest records. Remember in November. I came home ready to write about how great kids are today and ended up writing about how dumb adults are. What a shame!
Kids! With their awful clothes and their rock and roll!
Oh, wait! That was me!
I am extremely lucky to have been invited to judge the junior division of the Fulton County Schools' Science and Engineering Fair earlier today. The junior division is middle school students, seventh and eighth graders. I saw middle-school kids in suits and {gasp!} dresses!
OK... appearances aren't everything, and sometimes they aren't anything, but I am encouraged that these kids are learning that appearances do count. It looks like they're learning that from their parents, too. One can hope that they're learning other, equally important, lessons at home, and it seems likely they are.
In some cases the science was a little shaky, but in other cases the kids nailed it dead. What struck me in almost every instance was curiosity and a desire to learn. (These kids need to figure out that Wikipedia isn't everything, but that will come.) I met one child whom I'd be happy to have in my college classroom. I can find it in my heart to hope I live to see one of these kids become President.
Meanwhile, back in reality, I came home to read on CNN.com about a child the same age as the kids I was working with being taken away in handcuffs for doodling on a school desk with a marking pen. Morons! When I was in high school, it was not uncommon to find something like "Joe {heart-with-arrow} Cindy" actually carved into the desk with a pen knife. (All boys were Joe, Bob, or Bill, and all girls were Cindy, Kathy, or Barbara in those days.) Of course, if a boy got caught doing this, he'd find out how compatible his bottom was with the assistant principal's paddle, but no one would have even thought about it being a matter for the police. (Don't know what would have happened to a girl. As far as I know, the paddle was reserved for boys.) Having a pen knife at school today would probably get you 20 years in Leavenworth!
Modern school desks seem to be made of wood-grained impervium. A little scouring powder will remove anything. This kid probably should have had a finger shaken in her face; handcuffs are way beyond the pale.
All might not be lost. The CNN story quotes a Clayton County (Georgia) juvenile court judge as saying "zero intelligence" about such "zero tolerance" cases.
I don't have to run for election, so I can say, "dumb as a doorknob!" Parents, "zero-tolerance" laws and regulations do not protect your children; they threaten your children with arrest records. Remember in November. I came home ready to write about how great kids are today and ended up writing about how dumb adults are. What a shame!
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Pasta with Broccoli Fleurettes and Cheese Sauce
I got home from school late and hungry. (That happens when one teaches evening classes.) Although I "cook leftovers" on Sunday expressly to deal with this contingency, none of the usual suspects appealed. The freezer had various types of frozen meat, frozen French bread, and less than a serving of frozen broccoli. Not inspiring... at least until I thought of pasta.
Idea: pasta and broccoli fleurettes with an Italian-esque cheese sauce.
I set water to boil for the pasta and took the first step for any sauce: first you make a roux. I cooked a tablespoon of butter and a tablespoon of flour to the roux blonde state, and then began adding chicken stock, a little at a time. (Cream would have been better, but chicken stock was better for me!) I tossed in a handful of Publix shredded Italian cheeses stuff. (Mostly Mozzarella, I think.) Stir. Shake in some Tabasco. (I used five shakes, which turned out not to be enough, but it tasted right at the time.) Adjust consistency by whisking in more chicken stock.
In the mean time, fling some vermicelli into the boiling water and cook for two minutes. Fling in the broccoli and cook for three more minutes after the water has returned to a boil. I was afraid the broccoli would dye the pasta green, but it didn't. (Good.) Drain and serve with the sauce and a modest red wine.
This turned out to be quite good, but not up to the standard of a Recipe from the Kitchen at Emory Cottage, which is why you're reading about it here. It has potential, though... Let's think!
Vermicelli is the wrong thing for a thick sauce. Next time I'm trying orecchiette, or even sea shells. The sauce needed more bite, and not from Tabasco. What it needed was 1/3 part Parmigiano, Gruyère, or even Cheddar, plus a dash more Tabasco and some salt and pepper. I think there's a place for some Prosciutto if one is not serving vegetable-tarians, and some croutons sautéed in garlic, olive oil, and maybe a dash of Worcestershire to add interest to the texture.
If one served the revised dish preceded by a cold antipasto with white wine, like a Santa Margherita pinot grigio, and followed it up with a hot dessert, like crème brûlée with strong coffee, it'd make an elegant meal. Maybe I'll mess with it some more. (If you mess with it, please let me know.)
Idea: pasta and broccoli fleurettes with an Italian-esque cheese sauce.
I set water to boil for the pasta and took the first step for any sauce: first you make a roux. I cooked a tablespoon of butter and a tablespoon of flour to the roux blonde state, and then began adding chicken stock, a little at a time. (Cream would have been better, but chicken stock was better for me!) I tossed in a handful of Publix shredded Italian cheeses stuff. (Mostly Mozzarella, I think.) Stir. Shake in some Tabasco. (I used five shakes, which turned out not to be enough, but it tasted right at the time.) Adjust consistency by whisking in more chicken stock.
In the mean time, fling some vermicelli into the boiling water and cook for two minutes. Fling in the broccoli and cook for three more minutes after the water has returned to a boil. I was afraid the broccoli would dye the pasta green, but it didn't. (Good.) Drain and serve with the sauce and a modest red wine.
This turned out to be quite good, but not up to the standard of a Recipe from the Kitchen at Emory Cottage, which is why you're reading about it here. It has potential, though... Let's think!
Vermicelli is the wrong thing for a thick sauce. Next time I'm trying orecchiette, or even sea shells. The sauce needed more bite, and not from Tabasco. What it needed was 1/3 part Parmigiano, Gruyère, or even Cheddar, plus a dash more Tabasco and some salt and pepper. I think there's a place for some Prosciutto if one is not serving vegetable-tarians, and some croutons sautéed in garlic, olive oil, and maybe a dash of Worcestershire to add interest to the texture.
If one served the revised dish preceded by a cold antipasto with white wine, like a Santa Margherita pinot grigio, and followed it up with a hot dessert, like crème brûlée with strong coffee, it'd make an elegant meal. Maybe I'll mess with it some more. (If you mess with it, please let me know.)
Saturday, December 26, 2009
The Feast of Stephen
St. Stephen was the first Christian martyr; the Western church celebrates St. Stephen's Day on December 26, the second day of Christmas. That's "the feast of Stephen" that one hears about in Good King Wenceslas. (Never mind that he was really a duke and his name was Václav!)
Today is St. Stephen's Day, and after the frenetic rush to Christmas, it seems to be time to slow down a bit. My Feast of Stephen will be a modest one by comparison to some peoples' excesses of the past two days, but I've invited a few friends over and we will surely enjoy ourselves.
Perhaps the greatest pleasure of Emory Cottage is cooking. The kitchen was designed to be both an efficient workspace and a friendly social space. It's big enough to be both at the same time for half-a-dozen people. We'll have as much fun preparing the modest feast as we will eating it.
I've always delighted in silliness, so I loved How the Grinch Stole Christmas. The centerpiece of tonight's feast just has to be ... roast beast. Not the whole beast, for there are only a few of us, but I got a wonderful beef tenderloin from the market early this morning. It'll be roasted and served with a port wine sauce.
What else? Well broccoli gets flown in from the southern hemisphere almost as easily as from California, and it's a cool-weather vegetable anyway. A Cheddar cheese and beer sauce should make it go well with the roast beast. As long as I'm roasting, perhaps some roasted potatoes with rosemary. With a salad, home-baked French bread, and perhaps some cheese beforehand, that should make a pretty nice feast.
Except we need some dessert. I haven't had any pumpkin pie yet this season, so I think I'll do that. And, since I'm buying things flown in from elsewhere, perhaps some strawberries and raspberries in Grand Marnier for those who do not care for pie. (I'll hide the spray can of whipped cream from the guests. ... Oh, wait! That won't work because they'll all be in the kitchen. Oh, well.)
I'm looking forward to a pretty easy day of preparation, ending surrounded by friends. I'd like to think St. Stephen would be pleased.
December 27...
Everything worked, and a good time was had by all.
Today is St. Stephen's Day, and after the frenetic rush to Christmas, it seems to be time to slow down a bit. My Feast of Stephen will be a modest one by comparison to some peoples' excesses of the past two days, but I've invited a few friends over and we will surely enjoy ourselves.
Perhaps the greatest pleasure of Emory Cottage is cooking. The kitchen was designed to be both an efficient workspace and a friendly social space. It's big enough to be both at the same time for half-a-dozen people. We'll have as much fun preparing the modest feast as we will eating it.
I've always delighted in silliness, so I loved How the Grinch Stole Christmas. The centerpiece of tonight's feast just has to be ... roast beast. Not the whole beast, for there are only a few of us, but I got a wonderful beef tenderloin from the market early this morning. It'll be roasted and served with a port wine sauce.
What else? Well broccoli gets flown in from the southern hemisphere almost as easily as from California, and it's a cool-weather vegetable anyway. A Cheddar cheese and beer sauce should make it go well with the roast beast. As long as I'm roasting, perhaps some roasted potatoes with rosemary. With a salad, home-baked French bread, and perhaps some cheese beforehand, that should make a pretty nice feast.
Except we need some dessert. I haven't had any pumpkin pie yet this season, so I think I'll do that. And, since I'm buying things flown in from elsewhere, perhaps some strawberries and raspberries in Grand Marnier for those who do not care for pie. (I'll hide the spray can of whipped cream from the guests. ... Oh, wait! That won't work because they'll all be in the kitchen. Oh, well.)
I'm looking forward to a pretty easy day of preparation, ending surrounded by friends. I'd like to think St. Stephen would be pleased.
December 27...
Everything worked, and a good time was had by all.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
What's The Matter With Kids Today ?
Last week I was invited to a "Career Day" at a big high school in Marietta, Georgia, possibly because I can do a double-feature: I can tell what it's like to be an information technology manager and also what it's like to be a college teacher.
I went with a little trepidation. Remember the song Kids from Bye Bye Birdie? "Kids! They are just impossible to control! Kids! With their awful clothes and their rock an' roll!" I was pretty certain the end of civilization had already begun, and that it had started in high schools.
Ms. March, a mathematics teacher, took me to two of her classes to talk with the students for half an hour or so. The first was a class of freshmen, so they were 14-15 years old. At first they let me talk, but they'd been given a list of questions to ask, and a couple of students broke the ice with the canned questions. I got a few questions that weren't on the list, too. Although, when I asked who wanted to be a teacher, only two of them raised hands, they seemed genuinely interested in what it was like. They were more interested in teaching than computing, too.
The second class was much smaller, and juniors, so perhaps 17 years old. They were more at ease (not to say rowdy!) with having a visitor in their class. With a couple of exceptions, they were engaged in the discussion and interested in learning about something new.
Was there weird clothing? Sure! On the other hand, they probably thought my blue blazer, white shirt with regimental tie, and khaki gabardines were pretty weird, too. Why, no item of my clothing had a skull anywhere on it!
These are the kids Strauss and Howe call Millennials. They'll make up most of the U.S. Congress when I'm an old (older!) man, and one of them will be President in my last years.
I haven't made a study of generations, but I've watched many people make the transition from childhood to adulthood in my college classroom over the past 14 years. I think of the college class of 2015 as part of the Digital Generation. They have no memory of a time without computers and the Internet, of course we send manned flights into outer space, and of course the kids' "gear" interoperates wirelessly and seamlessly. That's the way things work... I thought you knew! (They've also never heard a telephone ring. Their phones play music and their parents' phones make a gobbling sound like an electronic turkey. Yes, I do have a cellular phone, and yes, it has a ringtone of two brass bells of different pitches ringing alternately.)
If I worry about these kids at all, I worry they're being over-protected and that the transition to the reality of adulthood will be a rude, possibly fatal, shock for them. When I was that age, we walked to school, and yes, it was uphill both ways... in the snow! The more important point is that, between 3:15 when I got out of elementary school and 5:30 or 6:00, I was "out playing." My parents didn't have a clue where I was, and everyone thought that was OK. The phrases "soccer mom" and "bicycle helmet" were not a part of the English language. The only danger I ever heard a parent worry about out loud was polio. The other dangers were as prevalent then as now; we simply didn't worry about them. And, mostly, they didn't kill us. I guess I'm with Friedrich Nietzsche on that one. (And if any of you kids is reading this, look it up! We didn't have Google then, either!)
My trip to Sprayberry High School left me feeling pretty good about the kids who will be running the world when I'm a little old man. I hope they invite me again next year!
I went with a little trepidation. Remember the song Kids from Bye Bye Birdie? "Kids! They are just impossible to control! Kids! With their awful clothes and their rock an' roll!" I was pretty certain the end of civilization had already begun, and that it had started in high schools.
Ms. March, a mathematics teacher, took me to two of her classes to talk with the students for half an hour or so. The first was a class of freshmen, so they were 14-15 years old. At first they let me talk, but they'd been given a list of questions to ask, and a couple of students broke the ice with the canned questions. I got a few questions that weren't on the list, too. Although, when I asked who wanted to be a teacher, only two of them raised hands, they seemed genuinely interested in what it was like. They were more interested in teaching than computing, too.
The second class was much smaller, and juniors, so perhaps 17 years old. They were more at ease (not to say rowdy!) with having a visitor in their class. With a couple of exceptions, they were engaged in the discussion and interested in learning about something new.
Was there weird clothing? Sure! On the other hand, they probably thought my blue blazer, white shirt with regimental tie, and khaki gabardines were pretty weird, too. Why, no item of my clothing had a skull anywhere on it!
These are the kids Strauss and Howe call Millennials. They'll make up most of the U.S. Congress when I'm an old (older!) man, and one of them will be President in my last years.
I haven't made a study of generations, but I've watched many people make the transition from childhood to adulthood in my college classroom over the past 14 years. I think of the college class of 2015 as part of the Digital Generation. They have no memory of a time without computers and the Internet, of course we send manned flights into outer space, and of course the kids' "gear" interoperates wirelessly and seamlessly. That's the way things work... I thought you knew! (They've also never heard a telephone ring. Their phones play music and their parents' phones make a gobbling sound like an electronic turkey. Yes, I do have a cellular phone, and yes, it has a ringtone of two brass bells of different pitches ringing alternately.)
If I worry about these kids at all, I worry they're being over-protected and that the transition to the reality of adulthood will be a rude, possibly fatal, shock for them. When I was that age, we walked to school, and yes, it was uphill both ways... in the snow! The more important point is that, between 3:15 when I got out of elementary school and 5:30 or 6:00, I was "out playing." My parents didn't have a clue where I was, and everyone thought that was OK. The phrases "soccer mom" and "bicycle helmet" were not a part of the English language. The only danger I ever heard a parent worry about out loud was polio. The other dangers were as prevalent then as now; we simply didn't worry about them. And, mostly, they didn't kill us. I guess I'm with Friedrich Nietzsche on that one. (And if any of you kids is reading this, look it up! We didn't have Google then, either!)
My trip to Sprayberry High School left me feeling pretty good about the kids who will be running the world when I'm a little old man. I hope they invite me again next year!
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