David(ˈdāvid)

Today is Teacher’s Day, so I thought(THôt) I’d share a story about one of my teachers. I’ve been blessed(blest,ˈblesid) to have many wonderful teachers over the years, and each of them taught me different things.

David was my advisor(ədˈvīzər) and math teacher in middle school. The middle school was from 5th through 8th grade(grād), and I transferred there in 6th grade, so I was very much a new student. I was certainly very nervous about entering(ˈentər) a new school, I think a key factor in my successful acclimation(ˌakləˈmāSH(ə)n) was joining David’s advisee(adˌvīˈzē,ˌadvī-) group.

“Advisee groups” at my school were groups of 10-15 students that spent a little bit of time together each day, had one period(ˈpi(ə)rēəd) each week to do activities, and, if I remember correctly, had a couple of days each year to plan more extended activities. I was lucky to have a teacher in David that I got along with, and to have an advisee group of students that I eventually became good friends with. One project we worked on was picking up 1,000 pounds of rocks from the field that was to become the new soccer(ˈsäkər) field(fēld). We got some reward for it, but I can’t remember what it was! I do remember the excitement(ikˈsītmənt) as we measured rocks and approached the goal of 1,000 pounds.

As my math(maTH) teacher, David noticed that I was easily grasping(ˈgraspiNG) the assigned(əˈsīn) concepts(ˈkänˌsept), and suggested that I use the summer after 6th grade to skip a year of the math curriculum(kəˈrikyələm). He tutored(ˈt(y)o͞otər) me a couple(ˈkəpəl) of times over the summer, and I was able to start a class the next year that was more challenging(ˈCHalənjiNG). More than just “skipping a year of math”, David taught me to challenge myself and put in my best effort.

David was a kind, quiet(ˈkwīət) man with a good sense of humor(ˈ(h)yo͞omər). We’ve keep in touch over the years, but it’s been a while since we’ve connected. Hopefully we’ll have a chance to chat the next time I’m back in North Carolina(ˌkarəˈlīnə). It’s funny to think that when he was my teacher he was probably 10 years younger than I am now!

For World Emoji(ēˈmōjē) Day, Apple and Google release new emojis: sloth(släTH,slôTH,slōTH), yawning(yôn), diverse(diˈvərs,dī-) couples(ˈkəpəl)

By Michelle Chapman(ˈCHapmən)

Apple and Google are rolling out dozens(ˈdəzən) of new emojis that include cute(kyo͞ot) critters(ˈkridər), of course, but also expand(ikˈspand) the number of images of human diversity(dəˈvərsədē, dīˈvərsədē).

The announcement(əˈnounsmənt) coincides(ˈkōənˌsīd,ˌkōənˈsīd) with Wednesday’s World Emoji Day.

Apple is releasing new variants(ˈve(ə)rēənt) of its holding hands emoji that allow people to pick any combination of skin tone(tōn) and gender, 75 possible combinations in all. There are also wheelchairs(ˈ(h)wēlˌCHe(ə)r), prosthetic(präsˈTHedik) arms and legs, as well as a new guide dog and an ear with a hearing aid(ād).

And then there’s the sloth, the flamingo(fləˈmiNGgō), the skunk(skəNGk), the orangutan(əˈraNG(g)əˌtan), as well as a new yawning emoji.

Google, meanwhile, will offer 71 versions of couples with different skin tones once the additions(əˈdiSHən) are completed. Google is also adding an emoji for the Diya lamp(lamp) so that Diwali(dēˈwälē) can be celebrated alongside Christmas and Thanksgiving.

New emojis routinely(ro͞oˈtēnlē) pop up every year. Earlier this year the Unicode(ˈyo͞onəˌkōd) Consortium(kənˈsôrdēəm, kənˈsôrSH(ē)əm) approved 71 new variations(ˌve(ə)rēˈāSHən) of emoji for couples of color.

Anyone can propose(prəˈpōz) an emoji. But for it to make it to phones and computers, it has to be approved by Unicode. The nonprofit(ˈnänˈpräfit) group, mostly made up of people from large tech(tek) companies like Apple, Google and Facebook, translates emoji into one standard, so that a person in France, for example, can send an emoji or a text(tekst) message to a person in the U.S. and it will look the same, no matter what brand of phone or operating system they use.

…
https://www.chicagotribune.com/business/ct-biz-new-emoji-for-world-emoji-day-20190717-6nfesssuijdfhfm6rgh2wmm3nu-story.html

echoes(ˈekō) from his brilliance(ˈbrilyəns)

I miss what was

By Henry H. Walker

I don’t like how it feels:
a fellow(ˈfelō) teacher’s classroom,
the materials(məˈti(ə)rēəl) for his teaching,
the ways, the things,
with which he surrounded himself,
laid(lā) bare(be(ə)r) and needing to be removed,
what to save?
what to reuse?
what to throw(THrō) away?
every decision momentous(mōˈmen(t)əs,məˈ-), and as nothing,

the world in his classroom
was one I only glimpsed(ɡlim(p)s),
I appreciated(əˈprēSHēˌāt) the artistry(ˈärdəstrē) he lived within the classroom,
for I witnessed(ˈwitnəs) the kids’ joy in learning,
the kids’ coming into their power,
because of the teacher he was,
because of the love he freely gave,
even in the outrageous(outˈrājəs) teasing(tēz) he could do,

without him in this classroom,
all the things only echo from the world he created,

time has passed,
the world has changed,
I miss what was,
and I sorrow(ˈsärō).

https://henryspoetry.blogspot.com/2019/08/echoes-from-his-brilliance.html

These coffee(ˈkäfē,ˈkôfē) snobs(snäb) ban(ban,bän) milk(milk) and sugar(ˈSHo͝ogər)

A bitter(ˈbidər) customer service experience for some?

By Alina(əˈlinə) Dizik(diˈzək)

Three years ago, when travelling(ˈtravəl) for work, I dropped into a café(kaˈfā, kəˈfā) for a dose(dōs) of morning caffeine(kaˈfēn,ˈkafˌēn). Sleep deprived(dəˈprīvd), I was grateful to be handed the perfect pour(pôr) over – where you hand-pour the water over ground coffee – a few minutes later.

But when I asked for a bit of sugar, the barista(bəˈrēstə) flatly(ˈflatlē) refused(rəˈfyo͞oz), telling me they didn’t offer it. What happened to the ‘how do you take your coffee’ culture I was used to? Irritated(ˈirəˌtādəd), I had no choice but to drink it unsweetened(ˌənˈswētnd).

Actually, it was pretty(ˈpridē) good. Turns out I had stumbled(ˈstəmbəl) upon Oddly(ˈädlē) Correct Coffee Bar, a cafe in Kansas(ˈkanzəs) City, Missouri(məˈzo͝orē, məˈzo͝orə). A café which I subsequently found out many foodies consider to be one of the top coffee spots in the US.

Part of its so-called charm(CHärm) is its enforcement of strict(strikt) coffee culture rules. Oddly Correct is part of a new breed(brēd) of high-end coffee shops that have adopted zero(ˈzi(ə)rō,ˈzēˌrō) tolerance(ˈtäl(ə)rəns) policies(ˈpäləsē) on sugar, milk and cream(krēm) to preserve(prəˈzərv) what they feel is coffee quality. Others simply opt(äpt) out of selling smaller espresso(eˈspresˌō)-based drinks ‘to go’ because they feel the taste(tāst) suffers(ˈsəfər) if not enjoyed right away.

Often called Third Wave(wāv) coffee shops, these aficionados(əˌfiSHəˈnädō, əˌfisyəˈnädō) use high-quality roasted(rōst) beans that they feel should be consumed unadulterated(ˌənəˈdəltəˌrādəd) by additional(əˈdiSH(ə)n(ə)l) flavours(ˈflāvər) (even ones their customers might wish to add). Many of these zero-tolerance coffee shops feel that they are simply re-educating(ˈejəˌkāt) consumers by implementing these rules, but the issue(ˈiSHo͞o) is polarising(ˈpōləˌrīz).

…
https://www.bbc.com/worklife/article/20190402-these-coffee-snobs-ban-milk-and-sugar

Review of “Superman”

By Roger Ebert

The first time we see Superman in his red, blue and yellow uniform(ˈyo͞onəˌfôrm) is nearly an hour into “Superman.” Perhaps the filmmakers(ˈfilmˌmākər) agreed with Spielberg’s(ˈspēlˌbərɡ) famous statement that “Jaws(jô)” would work better the longer he kept the shark off the screen. That means the film doesn’t open like most superhero movies or James(jāmz) Bonds(bändz) with a sensational(senˈsāSHənl) pre-title sequence(ˈsēkwəns). To be sure, it opens on the planet(ˈplanət) Krypton(ˈkripˌtän) with his father Jor-El preparing him to be launched into space. But those aren’t action scenes(sēn); they provide weight(wāt) to the origin(ˈôrəjən) story every superhero requires.

In fact, Richard(ˈriCHərd) Donner’s “Superman” (1978) is surprisingly(sərˈprīziNGlē) slow-starting. The scenes of young Clark Kent’s(kent) boyhood(ˈboiho͝od) and adolescence(ˌadlˈesəns) might seem pointless if we didn’t know, “and someday…that child will grow up to be Superman.” The high school football scene, where the future Man of Steel(stēl) gets bullied(ˈbo͝olē) and has a cute(kyo͞ot) girl snatched(snaCH) away from him, pay off later in establishing(əˈstabliSH) Clark Kent as a shy(SHī) and, yes, mild-mannered(mīld-ˈmanərd) reporter. But they also raise(rāz) the intriguing(inˈtrēgiNG) question: Who is this being, anyway.

He is clearly not human. His body is not from our world. It’s probable he can’t reproduce(ˌrēprəˈd(y)o͞os) here, or perhaps even have sex with the cute girl – or Lois Lane(lān). Toward the end, when Lex Luthor’s girlfriend kisses him, his response (before flying off to stop an earthquake(ˈərTHˌkwāk)) is positively(ˈpäztivlē,ˈpäzətivlē,ˌpäzəˈtivlē) Vulcan(ˈvəlkən)-like; he wonders why she kissed him before, and not after, freeing him from the Kryptonite(ˈkripˌtəˈnet).

Christopher(ˈkristəfər) Reeve(rēv), who must have spent his career(kəˈri(ə)r) in a love-hate relationship with the character(ˈkerəktər), does a more nuanced(ˈn(y)o͞oˌänst) acting job than he’s usually credited(ˈkredət) for. As Clark Kent he’s not merely(ˈmi(ə)rlē) mild-mannered, but performs with a wink(wiNGk) to the audience because we know who he really is. Much(məCH) of his dialogue(-ˌlôg,ˈdīəˌläg) is double entendre(ənˈtänˈdrə). Pushing his glasses up on his nose, looking like an undertaker(ˈəndərˌtākər) in his blue suit, his hair coated(kōt) with greasy(-zē,ˈgrēsē) alderman(ˈôldərmən) stuff, he may be 6-foot-4 and have the physique(fəˈzēk) of a god, but Margot Kidder’s Lois Lane doesn’t take the bait(bāt). Perhaps she senses(sens) there’s something… off… about Clark. She swoons(swo͞on) for Superman and literally(ˈlidərəlē, ˈlitrəlē) flies away with him, but then how could anyone think Superman looked like Clark Kent? Superman doesn’t wear(we(ə)r) glasses. Is she seduced(səˈd(y)o͞os) more by the superpowers than by the personality(ˌpərsəˈnalədē)?

…
https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/great-movie-superman-1978

Meaningful work: A Simple 3-Step Method for Getting Your “One Thing” Done

By Leo Babauta

Most of us have that One Thing on our task list that is the most important thing on the list, that would be the most meaningful … and yet we’re not doing it.

The One Thing is so meaningful and important that it brings up a ton(tôN,tən) of uncertainty(ˌənˈsərtn(t)ē) for us, and causes us to avoid, run, distract(dəˈstrakt), comfort(ˈkəmfərt), procrastinate. It’s an old habitual(həˈbiCHo͞oəl) pattern.

So how do we deal with this uncertainty and habitual avoidance(əˈvoidəns)?

I’ve been working on a 3-step method for this, very simple and it improves with practice.

So here’s the simple (not always easy) method:

Create a space. Put aside all the messages, social media, distractions, smaller tasks, organizing(ˈôrgəˌnīz) and tidying(ˈtīdē), checking on one more thing. Instead, have a small space (even just 10-15 minutes) for this important task, and nothing else. You can do it now: set aside the next 15 minutes for this task, and tell yourself this is the only thing you’ll do for the next 15 minutes. It’s that easy.
Meditate(ˈmedəˌtāt) on meaning & feelings. For just a minute, mindfully drop into your body and feel your fear(fi(ə)r), resistance(rəˈzistəns), frustration(frəˈstrāSHən), overwhelm. Let yourself feel it fully. Then let yourself feel the love you feel for those who you’ll be serving by doing this task. Do they matter to you? (It might be you, loved ones, customers, a team, the world, etc.(et cetera.)) Let yourself fully feel what you feel for them, as if your heart were wide open. This step only has to take a minute or two.
Do the smallest next step. Now pick the smallest action you can take to get the ball rolling(ˈrōliNG) with your meaningful task. If you have a paper to write, can you just focus on writing a few paragraphs(ˈparəˌgraf)? If you have to do your taxes(taks), can you just get your documents together(təˈgeT͟Hər)? If you have to organize your house, can you just organize one drawer(ˈdrô(ə)r)? Get moving, translating your love into a small action.

And repeat(rəˈpēt). It’s that simple! With this method, you’ll connect to the deeper reason you want to do the task, along with the fears that are coming up for you that are making you run from the task. With this connection, you’ll be much more able to move into it.

Once you are ready to move into the task, picking the smallest next step (instead of a huge step) allows you to move in with a lot more ease, and get the ball rolling. Then you can do the next small step after that … or throw in another short meditation to feel connected again.

Over and over, this method helps with your meaningful tasks, your One Thing that you’ve been wanting to do but dreading(dred) and putting off.

I wrote this post using the method, with love for all of you.

https://zenhabits.net/3steps/

You Are Doing Something Important When You Aren’t Doing Anything

We need to rest(rest), to read, to reconnect. It is the invisible(inˈvizəb(ə)l) labor(ˈlābər) that makes creative life possible.

By Bonnie Tsui(so͞oē)

This summer I’m aspiring(əˈspī(ə)riNG) to be the grasshopper(ˈgrasˌhäpər), not the ant(ant).

Remember Aesop’s(ˈēsəp,ˈēˌsäp) fable(ˈfābəl)? The grasshopper fiddled(ˈfidl) away the summer months, while the ants toiled(toil) to ready their grain(grān) stores for winter. When autumn arrived, the ants refused to share food with the hungry(ˈhəNGgrē) grasshopper. The ostensible(äˈstensəbəl,əˈsten-) moral(ˈmär-,ˈmôrəl): There’s a time for work and a time for play.

But what if the grasshopper only looked like it wasn’t working? What if, as an artist, its play was critical(ˈkridək(ə)l) to its work, only no one saw it? As summer begins, I’m going to argue(ˈärgyo͞o) for fallow(ˈfalō) time.

Fallow time is necessary to grow everything from actual crops(kräp) to figurative(ˈfiɡyərədiv) ones, like books and children. To do the work, we need to rest, to read, to reconnect. It is the invisible labor that makes creative life possible.

I’m not talking about boredom(ˈbôrdəm), though that is part of the broader(brôd) picture of maintaining creativity(ˌkrēāˈtivədē). I’m talking about an active refueling(rēˈfyo͞o(ə)l) that can seem at odds(ädz) with our fetishization(ˌfetiSHiˈzāSHən) of productivity. Reading a book, visiting a museum, wandering out to people-watch at the park. Though we purport to value artists and romanticize(rōˈman(t)əˌsīz) their muses(myo͞oz), the aforementioned(əˈfôrˌmenSHənd) activities aren’t often recognized as work.

And I’m not talking about vacation(vāˈkāSHən,və-) or weekends. I’m talking about a more regular practice, built into our understanding of what work is. Fallow time is part of the work cycle(ˈsīkəl), not outside of it. In periodic(ˌpirēˈädik) intervals(ˈin(t)ərvəl) around the completion(kəmˈplēSHən) of a project, I have lately(ˈlātlē) given myself permission(pərˈmiSHən) to watch “Deadwood: The Movie,” to nap over the newspaper, to take a walk and restore the white space for complex(ˌkämˈpleks, kəmˈpleks, ˈkämˌpleks) thinking and writing. It can feel indulgent(inˈdəljənt). It can feel … lazy(ˈlāzē). But the difference between lazing around and laissez-faire is that I’m actually going about the business of my business.

In taking this pause(pôz) in production in favor(ˈfāvər) of absorption(-ˈsôrp-,əbˈzôrpSHən), I admit(ədˈmit) that I’m fighting(ˈfīdiNG) my innate(iˈnāt) impatience(ˌimˈpāSHəns). This is me working hard against my antlike tendencies, ingrained(inˈgrānd) in me by my immigrant(ˈiməɡrənt) parents, modern-day hustle(ˈhəsəl) culture and our pervasive(pərˈvāsiv), status(ˈstādəs, ˈstadəs)-quo(kwō) American busyness. This is me pushing aside(əˈsīd) the overwhelming in order to think real thoughts.

…
https://www.nytimes.com/2019/06/21/opinion/summer-lying-fallow.html

Make people curious(ˈkyo͝orēəs) in one sentence(ˈsentns).

By Derek Sivers

Screenwriters(ˈskrēnˌrīdər) in Hollywood(ˈhälēˌwo͝od) constantly pitch(piCH) their movie(ˈmo͞ovē) ideas to studio(ˈst(y)o͞odēˌō) executives(iɡˈzekyədiv). Each one has about five seconds to impress. The one sentence they use to describe their story decides whether the studio will read it or not.

Same with you. You just need one good sentence to describe your music. It has only one goal(gōl): Make people curious. That’s it.

It should not try to describe every note of music you make!

It should not try to justify your existence(igˈzistəns) on Earth.

It only has to make them curious enough to listen. That’s all.

I described my band as “a cross between James(jāmz) Brown(broun) and the Beatles(ˈbēd(ə)lz)”. Of course not everything I did sounded like that, but that phrase(frāz) was enough to make people want to hear it. I would watch them pause(pôz) for a second to try to imagine what that might sound like. Then they’d say, “Wow — I have to hear this!” Mission(ˈmiSHən) accomplished.

The shorter, the better. Give them one good sentence and stop talking. Let them want to hear more.

https://sivers.org/shrtd

Vegan(ˈvēgən). Keto(kēdō). Paleo(pēlēō). The diets at my dinner(ˈdinər) table make meal(mēl) planning(ˈplaniNG) a nightmare(ˈnītˌme(ə)r)

By Judy(ˈjo͞odē) Pollard(ˈpälərd) Smith

Whatever happened to family dinners? Those who gather around my own table have forced me into the position of trying to plan around what I call the New Non-Eating.

My default position about big meals has forever been a hearty(ˈhärdē) casserole(ˈkasəˌrōl) of scalloped(ˈskal-,ˈskäləp) potatoes(pəˈtādō). How could that be wrong? Slice(slīs) ‘em in thin(THin) wedges(wej), add(ad) the salt(sôlt), a grind(grīnd) or six of black pepper(ˈpepər), a good chunk(CHəNGk) of butter(ˈbədər). (Yes. Butter.) Pour(pôr) on the milk, top it off with a bit of grated(grāt) cheddar(ˈCHedər) and toss(täs,tôs) it in the oven(ˈəvən) at 350 F for however long it takes. Smells good. Tastes(tāst) even better. And then there’s meatloaf(ˈmēt ˌlōf) to go with the potatoes: minced(mins) beef(bēf), egg and a bit of oatmeal(ˈōtˌmēl) to bind it, a few diced(dīs) tomatoes(təˈmādō), a bit of barbecue(ˈbärbəˌkyo͞o) sauce(sôs) to liven it up, chopped(CHäp) onions(ˈənyən), diced green peppers. Those two dishes(diSH) made an easy base for a hearty(ˈhärdē) meal. Add a side of corn(kôrn) niblets(ˈniblit), a bit of salad(ˈsaləd) and Bob’s your Uncle, as they say.

So, what was wrong with that? I ask. Quite(kwīt) a bit, I’m told. And it pains me that even as I complain about the new diets around my table, I know there are too many people in my own city who would cherish(ˈCHeriSH) the opportunity to sit down to a wholesome home-cooked meal. It’s a heartbreaking thought.

Two offspring are vegans, which means no milk, plus no cheese(CHēz), and that means no scalloped potatoes. …

The other four adults are on the keto diet. So that means yes to meat but no to the pasta(ˈpastə,ˈpästə), which would make a great alternative(ôlˈtərnədiv) to the scalloped potatoes for the vegans. …

Our little lambs(lam), as I call our grandchildren, like to mix(miks) things up a bit. The six-year-old lives on air and eats nothing. That I can cook. …

When our other two little people arrive, the five-year-old eats pretty(ˈpridē) much everything, the works, which is happy-making for grandmothers everywhere. …

And then there is me, the host, who fills this dinner(ˈdinər) table. I eat every single item that is put in front of me, just as I was taught(tôt), which is bad in its own particular way.

…
https://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/first-person/article-vegan-keto-paleo-the-diets-at-my-dinner-table-make-meal-planning-a/

When Grandparents(ˈɡran(d)ˌperənt) Help Hold It All Together

Sociologists(ˌsōsēˈäləjəst) use the term “intensive(inˈtensiv) grandparenting” to refer to a commitment to providing(prəˈvīdiNG) regular(ˈreg(ə)lər,ˈregyələr) child care, often accompanied(əˈkəmp(ə)nē) by housekeeping or other tasks.

By Paula(ˈpälə) Span

Much as I look forward to spending time with my granddaughter(ˈɡranˌdôdər) each week, Thursdays can feel long.

I board(bôrd) the commuter(kəˈmyo͞odər) train in my New Jersey(ˈjərzē) town at 8:14 a.m., switch to the subway in Manhattan(manˈhatn,mən-) and reach my daughter’s apartment in Brooklyn(ˈbro͝oklən) by 10. Bartola, who’s nearly 3, comes hurtling(ˈhərdl) down the hallway(ˈhôlˌwā) to greet me. (That’s a family nickname, a nod(näd) to the former Mets(met) pitcher(ˈpiCHər) Bartolo Colon(ˈkōlən).)

My Bubbe Day shift (it’s Yiddish(ˈyidiSH) for grandma) lasts until 6. By the time her parents take over and I trek(trek) back home, roughly(ˈrəflē) 12 hours have passed.

But that’s nothing compared to the time that Bill Borbely, 65, a retired(rəˈtī(ə)rd) marketing(ˈmärkədiNG) executive(iɡˈzekyədiv), puts in. When his daughter and son-in-law(lô) announced(əˈnouns) their first pregnancy(ˈpregnənsē), he recalled, “I said, ‘You don’t have to worry about day care.’ And they haven’t.”

He’s on the job Monday through Thursday in Point Pleasant(ˈplezənt), N.J., caring for two granddaughters, ages 5 and 3, for a total of 26.5 hours. Because I want Bartola to see that everyone shares in home tasks, she “helps” me unload the dishwasher(-ˌwäSH-,ˈdiSHˌwôSHər) and do her laundry(ˈlän-,ˌlôndrē). Mr. Borbely, however, has been known to mow(mou,mō) his kids’ lawn(lôn).
Maybe Carol(ˈkarəl) Hewitt tops us both. As her daughter and son-in-law in the Bay Area(ˈe(ə)rēə) debated(dəˈbāt) whether to have children. “I said, ‘Go for it, get pregnant(ˈpregnənt). I’ll watch the kids.’”

In 2014, the year her daughter gave birth to twins and Ms.(miz) Hewitt(hiwāt) turned 65, she’d been traveling(ˈtravəl) back and forth from Kentucky(kənˈtəkē), where she was involved in a relationship, but resettled(rēˈsedl) in California to care for her grandchildren three times a week until they began school. She’s still providing after-school, sick day, summer and date-night babysitting(ˈbābēˌsit).

…
https://www.nytimes.com/2019/07/23/well/family/when-grandparents-help-hold-it-all-together.html