Art Murmur: January 2006

bring may flowers

education in america

A few weeks back, Jered and I saw a special on television about the American education system today. As I watched in utter disbelief, they displayed how standardized test scores are dropping and that children today are not getting nearly what they should be out of the education system in the United States.

I'm not going to get on my soap box about this, but I thought the program was really interesting, and eye opening. Yet I was still convinced that it was not portraying accurately the ENTIRE nation as a whole. I even argued a bit with Jered about the role of teachers and how much governmental pressure is now being put on them to essentially create motivated, and thus successful, students.

The next night, Jered and I were in a Chicago restaurant, eating our delectable appetizers, when the family seated next to us got our attention. Mainly, we noticed them because they were playing some sort of game, and the four kids were all yelling out things:

"Joe Montana!" one exclaimed.

Of course, since they were talking about football, Jered and I both sort of perked up and began to eavesdrop.

"Thomas Edison!" the next yelled.

Then Dad stepped in and asked his son, "No, that's not the answer, but do you know who Thomas Edison is?"

"Um....ummmmmm, well, not exactly.... But I know he was a president!"

not like he is worth millions

The other day, Jered was filling out forms for his new job, including direct deposit forms, his handicap in golf, and what he wants for lunch on Thursday, when he started talking about his insurance policies and health care, and then I just got completely bored.

To me, it seems strange to be thinking about life insurance and the like.

To me, it seems like those types of things are for old people--people who spend their entire day trying to glue their dentures into place.

And then Jered started talking financial geek....and I slowly stopped listening.

"If you were the beneficiary to my life insurance...."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa....what? Excuse me?"

"Well, I was just thinking, besides my parents, I can have you as a beneficiary, you know... if I die."

"Is that really a good idea? I mean, that is sort of a big step. What if we break up?"

"Laurel, obviously I would change it then, if we broke up."

"Oh."

Long silence.

"OR......, what if we broke up and then I killed you? What would you do then? You couldn't change it."

".....you just want to know WHERE TO SIGN, don't you?"

rebellion

A few days ago, I was thinking back to times in high school; my curfew, the rules my parents made for me, etc...Perhaps I was thinking about Parker and how I still cannot believe he is already a freshman in high school.

When I go home now, it is always interesting to see what friend of his is answering our home phone, or to see whose mini-van is parked in our driveway-- a surefire signal that one of his friends just obtained his driver's license.

In recalling past experiences from high school, and the seemingly strict rules my parents had over me (ie. not being able to ride in any car with an inexperienced TEENAGE driver), there is no doubt Mom and Dad have loosened up over the years.

Not only was Parker able to carry a rifle and actually SHOOT things when he was twelve, he now owns more guns than I own cute-by-useless handbags.

Let me tell you, people-- that kid will remain a bachelor until he can meet himself a fahn purdy lady who lokks da shoot dem clay pigeons, too.

And not only does he like to bag innocent sparrows right outside my parents' mailbox, he shoots at people IN THE HOUSE, for the love of God! And what do my parents say to him as I scream from horror, darting from my dangerously obsessed menace-brother?

"I better not be vacuuming up those pellets, Parker. You know better than that, pick up after yourself!"

_________

Ah yes. Both Mattie and Parker were and are allowed to ride with inexperienced TEENAGE drivers before they turned sixteen, including their big sister when she had just learned to drive a manual transmission. I think my parents granted my siblings more freedom in this area because they had been around when I learned how to drive. As a result, they were both so scared shitless of riding in a car with anyone who had just received their license, they distrusted most anyone who got behind the wheel.

Now, as Parker will be getting his license soon, I imagine he will go missing for days; without a phone call or note. He'll be at the ranch, or out with friends, shooting guns, or picking up chicks at bars; and the only reason my parents will notice his absense will be all of the uneaten food in the fridge, or the prominent sound of baby birds chirping outside the sunroom. That alone will be their sign that Parker is gone.

And as eating a handful of crackers right before dinner just about put Mom over the edge when I was a teenager, by the time he turns 16, my parents will be counseling Parker's drug habit with words like "Please Parker, if you absolutely must snort coke, can you do it some place other than the kitchen table? For the love of God, people EAT in here."

fun in Chi-Town

Jered, sunset from Navy Pier

Anchor and bow, Navy Pier

Dear Sleepless and Son

While babysitting yesterday (as Dylan was taking a nap), I finally found the remote control, changing the channel from Nick Junior (and some squeemish bird-like cartoon making "mud mans" (they had no snow)), and I so eloquently surfed all of the wonderful satellite stations, full of trashy shows, shopping networks and movie mania.

Later, I was pleasantly surprised to find one of my all-time favorite movies on TBS: Sleepless in Seattle.

So as Dylan was snoring away next to me, I suddenly took a journey back to the past. Back to the early 90s.

I love that whole damn movie, but I was waiting for a part near the middle of the flick where Annie Reed (Meg Ryan) is at work and goes to the Nexus City Government page and clicks away at her computer to search for Sleepless in Seattle (ie. FIND: Samuel Baldwin).

I remember this part being my favorite, back from when I first saw it. I just loved the way Miss Annie Reed typed on her computer, thinking to myself.... I'm going to be Annie Reed when I grow up--I want to work in an office just like that. I want to peck away at a damn keyboard, JUST LIKE THAT.

What a joke.

But then came my ABSOLUTE favorite part: Annie strategically underlines ARCHITECT, as she exclaims the occupation to herself quietly at her desk, looking around her cubicle and office so as to catch anyone who might be spying on her wreckless work behavior and time theft. She then clicks ENTER and...

FOUND :

SAMUEL BALDWIN, CHICAGO, ARCHITECT. JONAH BALDWIN

When Annie found her man, I just about hyperventilated.

This was just like back in the day, when I was probably wearing snap bracelets and hot pink Keds. Back in the day when I myself wanted to be Miss ANNIE REED.

online shopping

To all my ex-fellow UW classmates, who are now graduated (and for the most part, depressed and unemployed), let me tell you what you are now missing from your damp and worthless lives.

To register for classes now, I get to go to the new "Student Center" on my student e-mail account. Not only that, but I get to go SHOPPING when I enroll. Yes, that is right. It is no different than Amazon, people. You actually have to ADD TO CART when you enroll in calculus or microbiology, or in my case, People-Who-Would-Rather-Bite-Off-Their-Own-Arm-Than-Take-Microbiology-So-They-Choose-Art courses.

This registration--it's like shoe shopping, I tell ya! Only without the griping boyfriend at your side.

If only there were a PURCHASE button...