Cats and Students, Bubbles and Abysses

This is one of my favorite Rick Bass stories. It really comes to life because of the first-person narration. The narrator is very verbal. You can immediately start to picture him as a character. The type that's chatty and stubborn about his own way of doing things and his own opinion. He has the same rambling problem that all of Bass' narrators do but in this case it only adds to the characterization.
The narrator's situation with his roommate is a lot like the the narrarator in our first story's relation with Gus. He hates him and yet he still stays with him. This is evidenced by the lede (which is a smattering of sentances thrown together).
The characters in this story never seem to be going anywhere, thus the bubbles in the title. And just like the rest of Bass' characters most are perfectly aware and content to stay exactly that way.
The only character who doesn't seem to be trapped is the cat and he's got a personality fit to suit any human. Which is part of his charm and the reason why the narrator's descriptions of him are so fun.
This story also has the heart that the others do, more so in a way because of the lively narrator. This narrator is not "dead" inside like Kirby and the others now are, but rather he's in your face and alive. He doesn't take lip from anyone and he's sure that whatever he says or believes in is the truth and nothing but.
Robby's character in the story is interesting because he's a college kid who's hanging out and drinking with his older washed up professors. But in many ways he's just the same as they are. The biggest difference is that he hasn't given up yet and he's not too old in their minds. Their hope rests in him. Through him they will have the big break that they never had the ambition to have for themselves.

The Government Bears

This story has a lede just like "Wild Horses", but it is more jagged around the edges as you delve into it and start reading. I didn't like it as well. Something about the harshness and the random jumps of thought that the narrator had jarred me as I was reading. It was similar to trying to read in a car that's driving down a bumpy old dirt road. You know you're reading but you keep getting thrown off track so much you just eventually get tired of the story.

The tone is very much that of a rambling, senile, old man who is bitter and callous about life. This changes slightly when he's in a scene with his grandaughter Alice, but for the most part you're struck by how old-fashioned and pig-headed the narrator is.

There's one thing in particular that makes you question if he's altogether there or not. He starts out by saying, "My family's snake bit. Since I got struck by the pick wrench and blew up the rig in anger, this state's never given me any trouble directly but it's sure taken it out on my kin."

This is a puzzling statement and it's not until later on that you learn the state he speaks of is Mississippi.

The unusual part is that he goes on later to say that, "Some foods have not taste. Other taste like rotting, garlicky flesh." So in a way he discredits his previous statement because he says that he can't enjoy food anymore as a result of things going on in the state.
The reoccuring theme seems to be that he hate Mississippi and the people in it. He gives several examples of what they do and why he doesn't want his grandchildren to end up like them or his son. But in the end the story goes no where and you're left wondering what the whole point was.

Wild Horses

This story has a very plain lede: "Karen was twenty-six."
It's not anything extraordinary or very interesting and yet it captures your attention all the same because you want to find out who Karen is, and why it's important that she was twenty-six.
You later on find out that she was twenty-six when her fiancee Henry died.
And even though that's tragic, it's still another Rick Bass story in which nothing extremely unordinary happens and yet you keep on reading hoping something more interesting than real life, something you'd only believe in a fiction story, will happen.
In a way it has more of a plot than the other rambling stories, which is why I like this one better. Karen eventually deals with her grief through help from Sydney and then towards the end the roles switch and Karen begins to help Sydney deal with his gulit for Henry's death.
The title plays a big role in tying the story together. Karen and Sydney are a lot like the horses that Sydney breaks. Both of them are wild with grief and fear. It's the reason Karen wants to and does hit Sydney every month. And it's also the reason why Sydney lets her and almost wants her to hit him harder. They both want to be free of the guilt and the pain so they buck against anyone who tries to make them face it and move on. They want to feel like they can have feelings again. Even if those feeling are for eachother.

Choteau

At first glance the title looks like the French word for mansion or “chateau.” Upon further investigation you find out that Choteau is actually a small town in Montana with a population less that 2,000 located just outside the Rockies. Considering that the author, Rick Bass, is from Montana and the story itself is set in Montana; Bass yet again effectively chooses a title that is not understandable until after reading the story.

He furthers this curiosity with the lead: “Galena Jim Ontz has two girlfriends and a key to Canada.” It’s just this side of possible and makes your eyes trace farther down the page to find who just who this character is. The two girlfriends who are mentioned get brief outlines later on in the story but are never clearly defined. They are used more as a character description of Galena Jim.

This story peaked my interest in the narrator more. There is no mention of Kirby in this story at all nor a mention what point in the narrator’s life this “adventure” occurs. It makes me want to read further and see if Bass has any more adventures that tie in the life of Kirby and this mysterious narrator. In a way I almost wonder if Kirby is Galena Jim’s son who is in jail or if that’s just a metaphor for the way Jim feels some days.

The galena road is a sharp parallel plausibility-wise to the bass in the first story; “Mexico.”

He also uses the same page breaks to separate large gaps of thought as he has in previous stories. I like this technique of physical separation of ideas.

The tone is very young and naïve much like the other stories involving this narrator. It’s like an older child when they attempt to sound more grown-up than they really are.

The heart in this story really revolves around Galena Jim himself. He is the heart and sole of the story since all of the action takes place concerning him. The scenes are all active scenes being reported by the narrator in such a way that they seem present tense and part of the action rather than just being an observer.

Coffee and Cigarettes

The dialog of this movie is hard to get used to at first. It’s rough and catches you off guard at several points. The first scene especially where the two gentlemen are drinking coffee and one ends up filling in for the other at a dentist appointment. This action goes against common expectations for a meeting and tells you that the Russian gentleman, who sees nothing wrong with the exchange and is actually quite pleased, is somewhat unaccustomed to American society.

The second scene also provides an insight into the characters through unusual actions as well as dialog. The twins are alike in their mannerisms and in their clothing but it’s the dialog that separates them from each other and culturally from the bus boy.

The scene with Renee conveys more through “anti-dialog” than through the actual speech of the characters. Renee never says much and all the waiter does is apologize, but it is his movements that portray a shyness and a pitiful need to speak with Renee whom he finds so attractive.

Daisys Valentine and Juggernaut

“Daisy’s Valentine” and “Juggernaut” are stories highlighting the lives of different characters and yet the overall image you capture could be two sides of the same person.  Kirby and the narrator’s Ed is as obsessive and out of touch with reality as Joey in “Daisy’s Valentine.”  Both characters have what seems to be an irrational need for another person whether that person is outside of themselves or simple another side of themselves.  Either way they both plunge themselves whole heartedly into this other image they have created.
The character of Ed in “Juggernaut” seems to fall out of societal norms just as Joey does.  Neither character has any real sense of propriety.  Their life is their own and they go about their business not understanding why people give them nasty looks.
Both live their life with passion for different things.  The “heart” in both of these stories comes not from the characters themselves but from the way they are portrayed in living their lives.  They seem to be people who we meet everyday and yet just a little off-based to what we expect.  In a sense they draw us in not because of who they are but because of what they’re doing; because of how they’re doing it.
You feel a connection not specifically with any of the characters but with the situations that they’re facing and the emotions that they feel.  As a reader you are pulled in and unwillingly experience empathy for a situation you know you will never experience.  You feel for characters that you would normally walk by in everyday life.

Character Sketch Take 2

Character Sketch Take 1

Scary Math People

1) key-in the first 3 digits of your handphone number ( not the 01x number) into the calculator.

2) multiply by 80.

3) add 1.

4) multiply by 250.

5) plus last four digits of phone number.

6) plus last four digits of phone number again.

7) minus 250.

8) divide by 2 at last.

Is it your handphone number????

Intelligent Design

I have too much work to do to write another long winded ranting post, so I'm just gonna copy and paste the convo I just had w/mike cause it summarizes a lot of good points.
KaratChic03 (12:40:36 PM): but basically our lovely prof. avalos is after the gonads of the christian professors again. He's pissed that prof. Gonzales is one of the main ppl involved in the intelligent design theory. Since Gonzales works at ISU Avalos is afraid that ISU will somehow be assoc. with intelligent design and labled the "intelligent design" campus. So instead of just trying to limit how it's taught he doesn't want it to be taught at all because it's not an appropriate view from an sci. ed stance b/c it's not technically "science" and they can't prove it.
Toyotarox01 (12:41:02 PM): ahh, okay
Toyotarox01 (12:41:04 PM): i heard about that
Toyotarox01 (12:41:04 PM): right
KaratChic03 (12:41:07 PM): ignoring the fact that avalos is a prof. in the religious studies dept. and has no business dictating what's taught in the sciences
Toyotarox01 (12:41:15 PM): yeah, that's the part i thought was funny
KaratChic03 (12:41:28 PM): but he made enough of a fuss that not only did it make the DM register and the NSTA website, but they had to have a special faculty mtg on it
Toyotarox01 (12:41:30 PM): i thought it was gonna be the other way around, the religious studies dude wanting ID and the science guy smacking him down
Toyotarox01 (12:41:40 PM): but oh wait...i forgot
Toyotarox01 (12:41:49 PM): religious studies on a college campus really is an oxymoronKaratChic03 (12:41:57 PM): ??
Toyotarox01 (12:42:27 PM): generally speaking, "religious studies" departments at larger universities tend to lean toward the aethist side of things
KaratChic03 (12:42:37 PM): yeahKaratChic03 (12:42:41 PM): here is no exception
KaratChic03 (12:42:51 PM): Avalos is the head of the atheist/agnostic society
Toyotarox01 (12:43:04 PM): right, i remember hearing that
KaratChic03 (12:44:11 PM): so yeah, basically ISU shouldn't teach anything that's not an established fact
Toyotarox01 (12:44:24 PM): yeah
KaratChic03 (12:44:34 PM): which means that we lose half of our biol./phys./chem. curriculum
KaratChic03 (12:44:39 PM): because most of those are "theories"
Toyotarox01 (12:44:40 PM): the problem with ID is that its associated with crazy conservative christians
Toyotarox01 (12:44:42 PM): EXACTLY
KaratChic03 (12:44:44 PM): not established fact
Toyotarox01 (12:44:54 PM): there are very few known things in science
Toyotarox01 (12:44:58 PM): tehre are things accepted as fact
Toyotarox01 (12:45:04 PM): but most things we just assume are true
Toyotarox01 (12:45:12 PM): like 90% of atomic theory
KaratChic03 (12:45:14 PM): and while ID may have an association, so does evolution...Darwin was not exactly an angel either
Toyotarox01 (12:45:17 PM): (i exaggerate, but still)
Toyotarox01 (12:45:18 PM): lol
KaratChic03 (12:45:49 PM): exactly and if we follow the logic that they use in arguing against ID then we also have to reject evolution because it technically cannot be "proven" either
Toyotarox01 (12:46:14 PM): lol
KaratChic03 (12:46:18 PM): evolution has become an established idea but people tend to forget that it still is only the idea of a man
Toyotarox01 (12:46:19 PM): but evolution is...fact...
KaratChic03 (12:46:28 PM): no one really knows
KaratChic03 (12:46:32 PM): I'm not saying that either is right
KaratChic03 (12:46:45 PM): but there has to be some assumptions made in order for science to progress
Toyotarox01 (12:46:49 PM): the biggest problem with ID is that its associated with people who honestly believe God created the world in 6 24 hours days
Toyotarox01 (12:47:25 PM): by "associated" i mean that the perception among the majority of people in this country is that IDers believe that the world was created in 6 days
Toyotarox01 (12:47:30 PM): which isn't true, at least not as far as i understand it
Toyotarox01 (12:48:39 PM): personally, i think evolution is an okay theory
Toyotarox01 (12:48:45 PM): but that "something" is behind it
KaratChic03 (12:48:52 PM): me either, I mean yes you learn the creation story if you grow up in the church like we did, but I never learned that by DAY they meant the period of 24 hours that we arbitrarily assign time to
KaratChic03 (12:49:04 PM): yeah, people always want to know my view
KaratChic03 (12:49:17 PM): because they wonder if it's a conflict of interest for me to be christian and a sci. teacher at the same time
KaratChic03 (12:49:30 PM): I like the term creative design
KaratChic03 (12:49:40 PM): it's one that a friend and I came up with during high school
Toyotarox01 (12:50:00 PM): yeah, exactly
Toyotarox01 (12:50:13 PM): its only psycho southern baptists who think that its a 24 hour day
Toyotarox01 (12:50:24 PM): lol
Toyotarox01 (12:50:26 PM): creative design
Toyotarox01 (12:50:26 PM): nice
KaratChic03 (12:51:42 PM): evolution is basic on sound science and in theory it should work, but we have no concept of how it actually started, we have guesses, but until the day we can actually create life w/o having sex or cloning something that was already alive, it had to start somewhere, w/something, w/someone. And why is it so hard to believe that evolution is the way in which we characterize a set pattern of creation? Why is it so hard to believe that God could have designed beings that would change to their environments? After all, he is God, we can't say he's all powerful and then turn around and say he CAN'T do something....

Everyone thinks they can teach

Today's education system is more concerned with what we teach students than how. The big push currently is to determine whether or not it should be left up to the states to decide the curriculum taught.
As if No Child Left Behind (or all children kicked in the behind as my Ed Psych prof refers to it) didn't do enough damage to our education system. Now they not only want us to teach to a test that can never really determine how much a student knows, but they want to be able to mandate everything that is taught in the classroom.
Which, btw, is usually way more than could be effectively taught in a year anyhow.
The NSTA has a link to a very interesting article up today about the current demands being placed on teachers and their curriculum.
Since when did teach become more about how much we can cram in front of our students than about how much we can actually teach them.
The average teacher in the US teaches around 10 times as many topics as comparable teachers in other countries. Is is any wonder we're getting our butts kicked in the field of academics?? Instead of allowing for quality instruction on every topic we simply go through the motions and teach the kids so that they learn exactly what they must vomit back up on an exam and then allow them to forget it so that the next go round we have to teach it all again. I don't know about the rest of America but I personally want my civil engineers to actually internalize what they're learning about how to keep my bridges and my buildings standing upright. I don't care if they learn about photosynthesis (even though I personally think it's more interesting) We have to stop demanding that our students know everything and focus on authentic tasks. As nice as it would be to have all of our students graduate, go to college, and end up with a masters degree and a 6 digit salary (which they of course donate to the teacher who inspired them :-)) It simply isn't going to happen. Every student has immense capabilities, they're just not all in the same area and we can't hope to achieve quality education by teaching them to be perfect in every area according to the designation of a standardized test.
Iowa's just about the only state that has figured this out. And while Iowa, Minnesota, and Wisconsin are the top 3 education states in the US they're still suffering from NCLB. Shouldn't an "improvement" in education be based on the states that have the best? Rather than punishing them by threatening funding and teacher's salaries?
Iowa is one of the only states that doesn't have state mandated curriculum. This means that each individual district is allowed to determine what is appropriate for the students in their area. Which makes a lot of sense if you think about it because there are something things that kids in little podunk, Iowa need to know more than those who've live in the middle of Des Moines and have never seen a cow outside of the huge statue at Roberts Dairy. It also gives the people in the school district a sense of responsibility and a sense of pride. They determine what's taught to their kids and when. It allows for them to become involved in the process.
What I really want to know is when are the politicians going to start listening to the people who see these kids day in and day out, the people who spend their time, (and the good ones even spend their own money) to ensure that students actually learn. Why not ask the educators, the people who have experience in this area, what really works?

Falling Water

Bleary eyed and groggy I wearily sit up in bed and toss the heft of my comforter to the ground. It lands with a soft plop as I contemplate what lies ahead of me today.
I shake my head to clear the jumble of thoughts inside of it and jump down from my loft.
Allie. Her name invades my consciousness and I remember. Allie is coming today. Allie, my closest friend at one point during my growing up. She left after high school. Ran away is more like it. She ran as fast as she could away from here, away from me.
Away from the small community school she grew up in. Away from the farmers and their morning breakfasts at the diner. She traded it all in for the glamour and filth they deem is exciting in today's culture. And now she's back. Waltzing back into my life like it's all going to be alright, like she never left and didn't call for a year.
But it is Allie. I can almost hear her voice humming whatever melody was just blasting from her stereo..
Grabbing a towel I head for the shower only to find they're all full and I don't have time to wait. I shovel down some unknown pastry that was left unattended in a paper bag in our room and walk to class.
Chemistry is hardly the focus of my mind during the lecture. At least not the kind the professor is talking about. I’m still thinking about the last time I saw her. How the early summer breeze played with the bottom of her skirt causing her to be continuously fidgeting with it. And how her blond hair caught the light from the afternoon sun and sent it glaring back into my eyes. I remember the look on her face when she said she was leaving and the way she walked, ran is more like it, as she left me standing at the edge of our pond wishing I could somehow speak the tangle of words inside my head.
And now she was back. But why now? Something inside me screamed that this wasn’t right. If she had wanted to see me she would have called. Why now?
I glance at my watch as class is dismissed, 10:45 am. She’ll be here in less than an hour. So I lounge about my room cleaning this and arranging that.
I don’t hear her at first but there’s no mistaking the thump of her car stereo and the pounding of feet up the stairs.
Turning around I take everything in at once. From her shortened hair to her midriff top to the sunglasses now perched on her head. And for a brief second I wonder if this really is Allie or just some lost product of the Greek system.
But then she greets me and the illusion is shattered. It really is Allie.
We wander around the streets. Visiting our old haunts and lamenting that the old ice cream store is now all boarded up and will soon become the third bank in town. In the end we arrive at the same place she left the last time; on the dock of the pound outside my family’s home.
It’s one of those moments where you realize that no matter how hard you try you can’t make it stay. It’s like trying to hold water in your hands. Eventually it all runs out and you’re left with just the cool wetness of it on your hands.
My pondering is interrupted as she asks me to go with her. I blink back old memories and reply that I can’t. My home is here. My memories are here and my friends. My mother’s grave is just beyond the dock where we’re standing. How can I leave?
But the look on her face is we both need to know that I’ll go. All thought is lost and the hope of somehow capturing that water and holding it close is all that fills my mind.
In what seems like an instant we’re in her tiny red convertible with the wind in our ears and the scent of the fading summer night.
The miles drop away and I think of what she’s told me about her life these days. Full of excitement and parties. Nights of endless fun. All that anyone could ever dream of. All the lights are off in her building as we pull into the parking lot. Not a sound disrupts the shuffling of the leaves in the breeze.
As we step from the car I can see the excitement on her face in the pale light of a nearby street lamp. A siren goes off close by and I shudder involuntarily. She slips her hand in mind and we walk with no where in particular in mind just enjoying what’s left of the night. Farther on, away from her house there are lights and people still up enjoying the early hours of day. I hear laughter and the boisterous singing that comes from far too much beer in one evening. The flashing lights and street noise remind me of how far I am from home.
But the excitement overwhelms me and I understand why this place intoxicates her. Why she is drawn to its life like the bus we see in the bar lights.
And for a second I can see myself here, with her. In this chaos and commotion of nightlife.
As we walk home thinking on the experience of seeing things through new eyes, through my eyes, a man appears from the alley beside us.
He quietly asks for our change and when Allie and I reply we have none he slips something from his pocket. All I see is a quick flash of silver and his voice rises slightly as he sharply demands my wallet and Allie’s purse.
I look at her and she that she’s obeying without a though so I reach for my wallet to do the same. As I handing my money to him I see Allie slip something from her purse and before I can react he’s moving towards her as she attempts to use the pepper spray she just revealed.
My only thought is of Allie as I step between them and for the second time tonight all I see is the glint of the metal in the light.
As my vision blurs I hear her scream and the sound of heavy feet moving away on the pavement. My small town may not be glamour and flashing lights, but it is my home and I’ll be safe there. I just have to make it back there. I hear Allie whisper she’s sorry and I try one last time to keep the water from sliding from my hands.

Kiss

it was only a kiss
is there ever such a thing
two lips brush, two people kiss
but is the action ever the only part of it
some days it is. It's mechanical two people, two lips, one kiss, maybe two