Your syllabus for Life Studies 2013

Course #2013 Life Studies Instructor: TBA

Required Materials

No materials are provided by the instructor(s), but all materials are required.

Course Description

This course introduces the student to the beauty of sunrises, children’s laughter, and human touch. All students will do an in-depth study of private success and public failure through hands-on experience. Topics covered may include, but are not limited to, falling in love, watching dreams shatter, burping loudly in public, enduring bores, throwing hissy fits, and taking out the garbage. Students will develop and hone the skills of procrastination, denial, acceptance, gratitude, and losing keys. As well, students will test the limits of their patience by working closely with and driving on the same roads with large numbers of blithering idiots. While taking part in various public humiliations, students will pass gas and pass the blame, often simultaneously; laugh inappropriately; cry for no reason; and engage in long conversations with themselves in front of mirrors. Finally, students will create a twelve-month portfolio of words and actions that will become part of their permanent record. NB: This course is a requirement if you plan to take Life Studies Course #2014.

Course Competencies

Upon completion of Life 2013, students will be able to

Overlook dirty pots when doing the dishes;
Embellish stories of remembered events at social gatherings;
Floss religiously for the four weeks prior to and after dental exams;
Refrain from slamming on the brakes when followed by tailgaters;
Demonstrate growth (probably in the hips);
Kill time;
Accomplish something;
Deepen wrinkles; and
Do the Hokey Pokey (because that’s what it’s all about).

Course Expectations

(1) Attendance

Plan to attend every day. Attendance, along with breathing, is mandatory if you expect to be successful in this course. Students who stop breathing at any point within the term will be terminated. Once a student permanently withdraws, he or she cannot be reinstated.

(2) Quizzes and Tests

Pop quizzes and major tests will occur throughout the course, willy-nilly, when you least expect it and at the most inconvenient times. Instructor(s) cannot inform you of the timing, duration, or content of tests. Once a test is begun, you must finish it. It can’t be stopped, so don’t ask. No one likes a whiner.

(3) Student Etiquette

Appropriate and respectful behavior is expected at all times, but instructors will not be holding their collective breath. Students who routinely disturb others with incessant text messaging, annoying and repetitive stories, unrelenting bragging, or otherwise distracting behaviors will face potential permanent removal from the course. Throttling may be involved.

(4) Assignments

Students choose their own assignments. Please put your best effort into all that you do, or at least appear to be trying.

Grading

No grades are given in this course. You either pass or pass away.

Students’ Rights

Students who use dark chocolate for medicinal purposes are not required to disclose dosage or share with the others.

Elastic Clause

The instructor(s) have the right to make arbitrary, capricious, and kooky exceptions to policies, guidelines, and/or expectations throughout the term as he/she/they feel necessary. And there’s not a thing you can do about it.

Course Schedule

Students are responsible for creating their own schedules and will be held responsible for any errors or failures.

Remember, successful completion of Life Studies 2013 requires hard work, dark chocolate, sufficient sleep, lots of play, good food, dark chocolate, and daily hugs. Enjoy your year!

Students practice listening to interminable lectures prior to returning home for the holidays. Courtesy: http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/2621134

Life Studies students practice listening to interminable lectures prior to returning home for the holidays where they will be required to listen to parents and relatives. Courtesy: http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/2621134

The weight of snow

Today the snow fell.

The pine trees stood in the silence to catch the falling sky. Two crows watched, unaware or unconcerned. The pines had nowhere else to go. When their limbs grew tired, they laid their burdens down. Snow scattered on the ground, startling the crows.

The birch trees are bones picked clean by the wind. Summer’s silver leaves lost long ago.

I have never loved the trees more than now.

The snow knows something of letting go, words unspoken, worlds lost, vanishing hour by hour. I think a bush grew there; I can’t remember. My familiar path is gone. I am left with only memories.

The snow knows too much of death to make a sound. It writes without words — shows, but never tells. See, you will not drown in this white flood. Winter stills the water and commands it to sit at her feet. In spring, the water will move again, seeking the earth’s heart, flowing down, down into the River Lethe, drowning all your memories of this world.

The blue shades grow large. I watch them lumber across the yard into the night.

I promise myself I will not forget this day.

The Christmas Imp, AKA, the Creche Crasher

Once upon a Christmas Eve, baby Jesus went missing.

“Mary is pining away,” the angels gossiped.

“I’m secretly incensed,” said one of the wise men.

“It was my golden opportunity,” another wise man said.

Joseph looked everywhere.

Mary prayed.

“I think this is the wrong tale,” said Eeyore.

“Moo,” said the cow.

“Baa,” said the sheep.

“Sugar cubes,” said the horse.

“I have that sinking feeling that he’s gone,” said Santa to the Nutcracker.

“I’d give my right arm to find him,” said the Nutcracker.

“I know where he is,” the Imp said.

Safe beneath the wings of the blue angels.

So they brought the child to Mary and Joseph, and lo, an orchid bloomed and hung above his head. And all the people, angels, and animals rejoiced, even the Imp.

Is there a Heimlich Maneuver for love?

Photo http://flickr.com/photos/58367355@N00/3866423477

I am loved. My husband works out of our home, yet finds time to make meals for me, do most of the grocery shopping, and take care of cars and bills. In a few days, we will celebrate 32 years of sharing the same last name. We have walked through joy and heartbreak together, and in every step he has remained kind and patient. Not once, and trust me, I would remember, has he ever raised his voice toward me or said an unkind word.

For the past 32 years, I have worked as a Quality Control Inspector putting my husband to the test. I’ve subjected him to impatience, sharp words, anger, silence, and rigorous door slamming. No matter how I act or what I do, he remains the same, his goodness still in tact.

Does he have flaws? Yes. The most egregious: he cannot read my mind. I have powerful thoughts that I beam toward him on a regular basis. Since he claims to love me, I don’t feel it is necessary to actually say what I want or need. Obviously, his goodness has limits.

One of the greatest manifestations of his love is buying me dark chocolate. He regularly buys a box of truffles or other delights and puts them in the cupboard so that I can medicate as needed. Last month, he came home with two bags of bite-sized treats and a container of dark chocolate mint balls. I usually eat one piece a day, though two pieces a day is not unheard of. Sometimes I take some to my coworkers, and I also share with my daughter and grandchild because my husband eats only sweet, milky chocolate.

I worked on emptying the two bags of candy, which seemed to disappear more rapidly than usual, saving the dark chocolate mints for last. Then one evening last week, my husband walked in the living room with the clear container of dark chocolate mints.

“How do you like them?” he asked.

I looked at the half-empty container. Although I found it hard to breathe, I managed to get a few words out. “I don’t know. I haven’t eaten any. Have you been eating my dark chocolate mints?”

“I don’t really like them,” he said, “but I’ve been choking them down.”

Choking them down! Horrors! Were they deadly? Defective? Radioactive? Unsafe for older women? Did they have some ingredient that would harm me if swallowed? What depths of love drove him to risk his life for me?

Over the next few days, he managed to choke down the rest of the mints, saving me from that fearful ordeal. During the day while I was at school, I tried to stay occupied and not think about what he was going through; otherwise, I would envision him sitting in a corner, carefully removing the lid from those innocuous-looking but life-threatening mints, forcing himself to eat them, possibly choking, and doing it all for me.

I will never know what that good man spared me from and endured on my behalf, because I never tasted even one of those mints. For days after, I lauded him, recalled his deed, and thanked him for his heroism. To prevent me from making too much of his courage, he placed a big box of dark chocolate truffles under my pillow. He thinks this will still my incessant praise. He is wrong.

He’s a humble man and doesn’t want to talk about the mints and his act of bravery, but I do. It’s one more reason I love the man.

Eleven holiday gift ideas for the wildered

Does holiday gift shopping leave you feeling like the character Wolfstein in Percy Bysshe Shelley’s book Zastrozzi and St. Irvyne? For the very few that may have forgotten that famous passage, I’m referring to the line, “wildered by the suscitated energies of his soul almost to madness.”

If you feel, mad, suscitated, and wildered, you are in luck. I am here to help you. Be wildered no more. Relax and let go of your suscitation. But stay mad if you like. The list of clothing items I have provided (free of charge!) are guaranteed to fit everyone on your gift list for Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Boxing Day, National Brownie Day, National Ding-A-Ling Day, National Bouillabaisse Day, and International Talk with a Fake British Accent Day.

Consider:

1. The Civil Suit – Lawyers love this outfit. Comes mostly in shades of gray. Nothing in black and white is available. Cost ranges from very cheap to outrageous. Must be taken to the cleaners; otherwise, very appealing.

2. Smarty Pants – Do you have a friend or relative who knows everything? Consider these pants. Available in extremely large sizes to cover all sizes of rear ends.

3. Pencil Pants – THE gift for writers and people who draw for a living. Very sharp looking. Proven to help them get the lead out and move on with their careers.

4. The Freudian Slip – For the well-dressed woman. Never worry again in those unexpected moments when your unmentionables show. Tasteful but provocative; leaves everything to the imagination.

5. Flip-flops – A perennial favorite of politicians, they make a perfect gift for your boss as well.

6. Platform Shoes – Another favorite of politicians. Perfect for posing in various positions for the camera. Not for long-term use.

7. The Ad Dress – Do you have any recent college graduates on your gift list? This dress is the one they are all looking for.

8. The Nursing Bra – Do you have a favorite CNA, LVN, LPN, BSN, CRNA, PHN or other medical acronym? Good for you. Do you have a favorite nurse who could use support? Nurse always find this gift uplifting. (Note: not appropriate for male nurses.)

9. The Wool Pullover – Tired of receiving these from other people? Why not buy one for yourself. That way, you can pull the wool over your own eyes.

10. The Straight Jacket – Flummoxed over what to buy your wacky friend or Aunt Edith who lives in the attic? As a fashion statement, they are bold, yet restrained.

11. The Shrink Wrap: This stylish wrap for psycho-practitioners can cover or uncover as much as you like. Also comes in inkblot patterns. Long enough to cover Freudian slips.

Happy Shopping!

Photos:

Nurses with babies: DN-0083981, Chicago Daily News negatives collection, Chicago History Museum.

Glamorous: DN-0087832, Chicago Daily News negatives collection, Chicago History Museum.

Frequently Not Asked Questions: Five

Are you a nosy person? Do you ever check your husband’s cell?

Only when I let him out for good behavior….

Oh, you meant his cell phone. No, I never check that.

I hardly ever check my own phone, much less anyone else’s. If phones were like dogs, the SPCA (Society for the Prevention of Cellphone Abstention) would rescue mine and put it in the hands of someone who would give the phone the attention it deserves.

Since I am fairly good with faces, I don’t need to check an online book to remember who my friends and family are or to discover they wear shoes (see the photos!), spend a good part of the day finding YouTube videos (follow the links!) or can’t spell (see the werds!) I don’t like online games and on my morning drive, I see plenty of road hogs and angry birds flipped in every direction; I am not interested in playing games based on them. I tried wearing earphones and listening to music while I walked, but I missed the natural sounds around me. My favorite tweets come from the birds in my neighborhood, and I’ve been streaming reality so long, I prefer it to all other kinds.

When I was a young girl, dogs were everywhere, free to roam, and phones were on leashes. Now phones are everywhere, free to roam, and dogs are on leashes. I’m glad to have a cellphone untethered from the wall that can stay by my side throughout the day, an ever-faithful companion, but I never could abide a yappy dog. Some days I see my cellphone as a Saint Bernard, ready to rescue me in any emergency; but most of the time, I see it as a Golden Retriever, sent to fetch the voices of the ones I love and miss.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I hear some funny noises coming from the cell. I better see what my husband needs.

It’s for you; Nature’s calling.

Cell can be found at http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:LadyofHats

Word Flummoxery: lie lay lie

The flummoxerization of the average native speaker of English who has unexpectedly wandered into grammar’s slough of despond is never greater than when he/she/they (you choose) have/has to deal with lie, lay, and lie. The three words sound deceivingly like musical non-lexical vocables, sounds singers make up when they can’t think of any more words.

The first lie in this triad is an intransitive verb, which means the action of the verb doesn’t go anywhere because the subject is resting, so please keep your voice down. The prefix “in” in intransitive means “not.” We can think of the subject as no longer in transit, unless they fly first-class and have grown indifferent to the plaintive cries of those in the second-class section, whose seats are marked with a button called “Recline,” which, if you look carefully you will see contains the wash-your-mouth-out-with-soap word of our trilogy. But more of that later, and hopefully less of these long, complicated sentences that are really just rants decked out in commas.

At this point, the reader may be thinking, “This is easy.” Think again. You’ve stepped into one of the muddiest parts of the slough.

Did you lie down in bed last night? Tell me about it. I lied in bed. Well, that may be true, but it’s not the past tense of the “lie” known as rest. Okay, I laid in bed. Laid what, my friend? You see how easy it is to get stuck in the mud. The correct answer is “I lay in bed last night.” Many people are disturbed to wake up and discover they slept all night with what can also be a transitive verb.

To avoid disturbation, use a synonym like “recumb.”

Harold: (at the dinner table) Excuse me, Lydia. I’m not feeling well. I think I need to recumb.

Lydia: (running for the bucket) Here, use this.

Harold: No, dear, I need to find a place to support most of my body in a somewhat horizontal position.

Lydia: That sounds supine.

Lay, the second leaf on our word shamrock lie-lay-lie, means to place or put something somewhere, often in a place you have completely forgotten about. Since it’s perfectly acceptable to lay your head on your pillow, people often say, “I’m going to lay down.” Unless they are planning to lay down their burdens, this is incorrect. If they are planning to lay down their burdens, perhaps you could show a little sympathy and not try to correct their grammar.

The ubiquitous “people” that we have all heard so much about often point to Bob Dylan’s song “Lay, Lady, Lay” as the first of many songs leading to decline of the English language. What these “people” don’t know, and I didn’t know myself until a few minutes ago, was that Dylan’s favorite hen, Lady, was one of the most productive hens ever not recorded. When she hit a rough spot in her career, Dylan wrote this song to encourage her. He thought a change of venue, his big brass bed, would do the trick. Apparently, many chicks were laid there.

That little known “fact” brings us to our third word “lie.” As far as information goes, this is dis- or mis-. A lie is to the truth as a politician is to his or her campaign promises: there is no connection. Many people lie; I lied once myself, but I didn’t inhale.

Quibblers may squabble or prattle or babble over exceptions, other meanings, and other uses of lie-lay-lie. Brabble on. The English language is full of exceptions, ergo ipso facto hokey pokey, it is an exceptional language.

Image courtesy: Flickr by graymalkn at http://flickr.com/photos/22244945@N00/3565234041.

Spanxgiving

If you are an American, I hope you enjoyed your Thanksgiving spread. If you’re like me (and if you are, I hope you are seeing a therapist) you will carry memories of it in your hips and thighs for months to come.

My holiday spread begins at Thanksgiving and usually ends around Labor Day when I overindulge for the very last time this year (honest!) because I believe in moderation in all things. I also believe that my body’s remembrance of meals past enlarges me and makes me a bigger person, so I’m conflicted.

Of course, not everyone celebrates when you begin spreading, especially if you are sitting next to them on an airplane. These whiners tend to be the same people who object to using “them” with the antecedent “everyone” in that last sentence. I should know because I object as well. But only if I discover the usage in a student’s paper. In my own writing, in order to avoid using the awkward “him or her” or wasting time rewriting the sentence with a plural subject, I pull out my Shakespeare card and say, “I follow my Will.” He did, as you know, write the lines, “There’s not a man I meet but doth salute/As if I were their well-acquainted friend.” If the objector continues to complain, I pull out my failed poet card, put it next to Shakespeare’s, and say, “Bards of a feather flock together.” That rarely convinces anyone, but I take my pleasures where I can.

If you skipped that last paragraph, I congratulate you on your astuteness. It has little relevance to the purported point of this post. If you didn’t skip that last paragraph, well, better luck next time.

Now, where were we? (I hate it when I lose my spread of thought.)

Holiday spread happens, as does secondhand holiday spread (the encroachment of your spread into other people’s space.) This year show your love by giving Spanx.

Happy Spanxgiving!

I borrowed this picture from the official Spanx website (http://www.spanx.com/). If you Spanx me, I promise not to do it again.

Writing myself down

I sit before the screen as words unfurl; skeins of thought untangle one by one. In silence I knit, undo, and knit again.

Above ground, the words grow, limb by limb, empty branches longing for spring. In the hidden place, the roots of wordless thought spread beneath the story that is me.

The truth is, words gnaw at my heart, so I release them. One thought leads to another; I follow, climb skyward, never looking down. I cling to fragile branches that cannot bear my weight. The trees I write, stripped of summer, grow from the tips of from my blue-stemmed hands. Blood flows from heart to paper, as it must.

The pattern is everywhere. Beauty divides and subdivides into frost, deltas, translucent wings, agates, cells, copper crystals, numbers, and the red river within. Trees of fire touch earth in storms; neurons branch into life. I am part of the pattern. Sentences flow onto paper; the waters merge, drowning me again and again.

I write the bridge I walk on. Behind me, the past swallows my path. I long to write myself home, a place I’ve never been. Will these words carry me there?

Had I been free to write these many years, I would have had the time to write myself mad. All those doors shut, the daily tasks that blocked my way, disappointments stealing so much time, every one another mercy.

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CREDITS

Copper crystals: By Paul from Enschede, The Netherlands (Dendritic Copper Crystals) [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

Sand patterns: David Lally [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

Colorado dry river delta: U.S. Geological Survey  Department of the Interior/USGS U.S. Geological Survey/photo by Pete McBride

Veins: http://www.radpod.org/2006/11/08/cerebral-arteriovenous-malformation/

Dr. Marina-Portia Anthony

Frost: Joe Lencioni, shiftingpixel.com

Wing venation: http://bugs.bio.usyd.edu.au/

Neuron: http://www.plosbiology.org/article/info:doi/10.1371/journal.pbio.0040029

Simple past

Only in grammar

can you guarantee

a past, present, and future

that is perfect.

I have had my share

of that perfection,

but yesterday,

the verbs were restless.

Some sprouted –ings

and flew around the room

as nouns

as if flying were a thing

to be desired.

The rest,

tired of being active,

pulled on their participles

and just stood there,

describing things.

Some of the nouns,

envious of all the action,

broke into a dictionary

grabbed suffixes willy-nilly

and put them on like tails

to strut among the verbs

symbolizing

something.

So many things were

happening,

And while much of it

was clearly progressive,

I sat in that hubbub

and longed for my

simple past.

year-struck

old age and other jokes I know