HOME GROWN SMARTS

I was educated in a public school.

Let me re-phrase that. I was educated in spite of a public school.

I did most of my early learning courtesy of my local public library. I got my first library card when I was five, and have always gone through books the way Michael Moore goes through an all-you-can-eat buffet. On everything important, I'm essentially self-educated. All public school did was expose me briefly to various topics. Any in-depth knowledge I acquired was on my own time.

And there was one time when public school actually made me stupider. It was in one of the early grades - Second, I believe - when I was struggling to master the art of double & triple digit subtraction. The way they taught it, you started at the right side, and if you couldn't subtract the bottom number from the top, you would "borrow" 1 from the next column over. If, for example, the problem were:

 73

-27

you were instructed to cross out the 7, write a little 6 above it, and put a 1 by the 3 to make it 13.

Personally, I thought this was time-consuming and messy, so I just "remembered" that the 7 was now a 6 when I went to do the tens column. Much quicker.

Stupid-evil teacher caught me not writing things down, and said, "how do you know what you're subtracting in that column?"

I shrugged. "I just remember".

"Write it down" she commanded, in her best youthful-spirit-crushing tone.

So I did. And continued to do so for many years, making messes & wasting time, until I finally got out of that stupid habit sometime in adulthood.

Kudos to you, public education, for stifling innovation and creative thought, wherever it may blossom. I REALLY hope the trend in this nation of homeschooling takes off like a rocket.

Dana of Note-It Posts has similar feelings (although her distaste for the public education racket arises from other sources), and does a lovely job of addressing some common anti-homeschool arguments. This one is my personal favorite:

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"A public school does help teach kids some social skills simply because there are lots of people there and you're forced to; I don't think that can be discounted."

This is the criticism of homeschooling I hear most frequently; fewer opportunities to socialize. Fortunately, this just is not the case. Homeschooled children are involved in far more "extracurricular" activities (I believe the last statistic I saw was an average of 5.2 per child) than public-schooled kids. They have the time to pursue outside interests, and the parents can incorporate those activities into the overall curriculum. Lots of homeschooled kids participate in some school activities - notably sports and band - and may even take some of their classes at the school, if the parents are unable to provide adequate instruction or equipment (think "science labs"). Then there are homeschooling co-ops, where parents work together to teach each others' children subjects they're particularly strong in. Parks and Recreaction departments offer all kinds of supplemental sports and educational opportunities, as well as artistic and cultural pursuits. I think too many people have this notion of homeschooling as Johnny and Johnny's mom, sitting in their basement, reading books together and never going out, except to shop, when Mom teaches Johnny how to count change. That just isn't how it works in the real world, for the really dedicated homeschoolers.

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There's also a follow-up post of sorts - a letter from someone who someone who was homeschooled herself, and whose life greatly benefitted from the process.

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The week before I graduated highschool (which by the way I gave the commencement speech and there 80 graduating homeschoolers in my class of 97) we made a trip down to Arkansas to see family. While I was there, I made it a point to go back and visit the teachers at the elementary school as well as the people who told me it would never be possible for me to make it past 8th grade homeshooled..and personally hand delivered graduation invitations to them and proudly told them of the scholarship I'd recieved to a 4 year university. The looks on their faces...priceless.

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Mheh. Priceless.

WE'RE FROM THE GOVERNMENT AND WE'RE HERE TO HELP YOU

Heather of Angelweave is concerned... no, make that annoyed... by the recent rash of state laws aimed at fighting obesity. She rightly observes that it's none of the government's freakin' business what you eat, and speculates a bit on what the mudpit at the bottom of this slippery slope might look like:

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If people want to be fat, let them be fat. The only thing I've advocated so far is more detailed labelling. I'd be pretty obnoxiously vocal if somehow my favorite junk food were no longer available at my local grocery store, and that's where this may head someday if it goes out of control.

And can't you see it? A butter ration. "Mrs. Noggle, I'm sorry. You've purchased five tubs of butter in this last week. You can't have any more."

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Which brought to mind a short story I'd read a couple years back that takes this scenario to its ultimate ad absurdum.

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Most good citizen-type Americans hunkered down and learned to live with the Lipid Laws, as they came to be known. Why, I bet there's scads of fifteen-year-olds about who've never tasted real butter or a true, cholesterol-packed egg yolk. But we're not all good citizens. Especially me. Far as I'm concerned, there's nothing like two fried eggs--fried in butter--over easy, with bacon on the side, to start the day off. Every day. And I wasn't about to give that up.

I was strictly in the antiques trade then, and I knew just about every farmer in Jersey and Eastern Pennsylvania. So I found one who was making butter for himself and had him make a little extra for me. Then I found another who was keeping some hens aside and not giving them any of the special feed and had him hold a few eggs out for me.

One day I had a couple of friends over for breakfast and served them real eggs and toast with real butter. They almost strangled me trying to find out where I got the stuff. That's when I decided to add a sideline to my antique business.

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Take about 10 minutes & read the whole thing. It was originally published in 1978, and it's frightening how nearly-believable it is in the present day.

THE DOCTOR IS IN

Dr. Trey has another installment of his helpful advice column:

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Help me, Dr. T. Givens!!!! There is too much workplace drama at my place of employment!

Allow me to expound...

Employee A (Boy) is best friends with Employee B (Boy) and dating Employee C (Girl). B is jealous of C, and they bicker constantly. Meanwhile, Employee D (Girl), who is best friends with Employee E (Girl), is dating former Employee F (Boy). E is jealous of F, and does every backstabbing, catty thing possible to make D break up with F. B and E hate each other, and fight most of the time. If I fire the troublemakers, B and E, the others might quit. Help!!! What do I do?

Anxious in the Technology-Free Zone

Dear ATFZ:

These sorts of things are none of my business and I suspect that since you're a nice young lady, they're none of yours either. But does B like-like A or something? Isn't that gay? And the same for E of D. Porn? I may be confused but perhaps you could pitch a plan to Cinemax and land a lucrative, late-night movie deal and be rid of this place altogether.

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Heh. Eye drops...

*SNIFF* I NEVER EVEN GOT TO SAY GOOD-BYE

Susie was involved in a tragic coconut accident and, with a little help from J of Quibbles & Bits, has arrived in her very own personal version of hell:

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"Oh crap! A theater!" she cried. Satan laughed.

"And here to manage, may I present... your Assistant Manager!" Satan's gleeful shriek echoed from the walls.

"Hi Susie," the Assistant Manager began, "We've got a hundred shows today, and six theaters. There are disgruntled customers who have already bought their tickets seated right now, and a line around the block for the next shows."

He hefted a sledge hammer. "You deal with the customers, I'm going to go fix all the projectors!" He turned and walked off, whistling a happy tune.

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Poor Susie. Maybe she'll get time off for good behavior.

HOW TO BE A GOOD DOGGIE

The Bartender has stumbled upon the official doggie ettiquette book. It certainly explains a lot of what's been going on at my house, lately:

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NEWSPAPERS:
If you have to go to the bathroom while playing in the front yard, always use the newspaper that's placed in the driveway every morning for that purpose.
[or go poop in Harvey's yard... that would be the best thing to do]

VISITORS:
Quickly determine which guest is afraid of dogs. Charge across the room, barking loudly and leap playfully on this person. If the human falls down on the floor and starts crying, lick its face and growl gently to show your concern.
[if Harvey comes over, you can lick your balls first]

BARKING:
Because you are a dog, you are expected to bark. So bark--- a lot. Your owners will be very happy to hear you protecting their house. Especially late at night while they are sleeping safely in their beds. There is no more secure feeling for a human than to keep waking up in the middle of the night and hearing your protective bark, bark, bark ...
[it's OK to wake Harvey up every night after pooping in his front yard]

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Ya suppose the Bartender is still a little bent out of shape about that party I threw in his comments while he was gone?

Meanwhile, I'm gonna let my horse-dog Jake do a little, uh, "ettiquette" on the Bartender's front porch. Watch your step when entering the bar.