XO to all, and happy Tuesday.

PS – Thumbs up to RtB fiends Bando and Adam, who will have a new baby tomorrow! Hugs!

All I really want to do right now is spend the night in a giant beagle. Instead, I’m getting ready to go to the emergency room.

Help, I’m stupid and I can’t see!®

Fink out.

~

(Is this a classy dude or what? Ohio’s finest. Yark. I’m sure he’s great and his mama loves him, but he just always looks dirty to me.)

Seems Big Ben is in a lil trouble again for pushing hisself on the ladies. Dandy hanky there, sport.

So the Thriller and I watched 2012 last night. For a doomsday movie, it felt surreal. I mean, I found myself thinking, “Is it OK to laugh here?” Faced with his house and entire street being swallowed in seconds by a massive earthquake, Jackson (played by quirky/cute John Cusack) jumps behind the wheel of his limo, family in tow, and makes wisecracks about his wild driving. I guess the director felt it was necessary to pad the horror with a little comic relief.

The story’s reality walls are thin at times (e.g., the world is crumbling but we still have all communication/internet/satellite services up and running perfectly?), but the special effects are beyond cool. Check out how they did it. It will impress you, even if the incredibly convenient date of “12/12″ doesn’t. (Notice the dyslexic gaffe in the graphic.)

So, totally over the top in every way, garishly dramatic while keeping smart-aleck lines in tact, probably a metric ton of Chicken Little hogwash thrown in for good measure….yeah, I liked it OK.

On the Rat-O-Meter movie scale of five cheeses:

Happy weekend, fiends. Yay!

1. Chocolate Cheerios. Food. Of. The. Gods.
2. Getting upset because people don’t care as deeply as you do is pretty much useless.
3. Teenagers from Hooterville can do some pretty amazing art.
4. My tolerance level for Pharisees is inversely proportional to my advancing age.
5. Dogs can teach us volumes about loyalty and unconditional love.
6. If you are looking for some of the meanest girls on the planet, I know where you can find some.
7. Nearly 75% of Droid users are men. Guess that makes me one of the boys. Truth be told, I do wish the Droid was prettier, with softer edges. But it definitely “does.” I’ll take that any day.
8. When you get up at 2 a.m., you’re really really really sleepy at 5:35.

FO

Apparently, it’s anger management time again for Naomi Campbell, who allegedly roundhoused her limo driver. The Daily News calls her a cantankerous catwalker. HA

Once again, I will climb into the pulpit to laugh out loud at the lunacy: alcohol is legal, but pot isn’t. I don’t have time this morning to opine on that absolutely absurd paradox. The end.

Words I didn’t want to read this morning:

You are a public employee. You are paid with tax dollars. Your salary, retirement, health care, class size, curriculum, subject standards, teacher standards, school calendar, school day, and even school lunches are all decided by politicians. Your livelihood and work conditions depend on politics.  ~North Central Ohio Education Association newsletter article on why I should care about politics

Yay.

So tonight will be a rare evening at home (our varsity men’s basketball team is playing their first tournament game, so I gave everyone the night off). Whatever shall I do? The Thriller is making dinner. That part will be fab.

FO

Last night’s rehearsal wasn’t all that bad. I told a friend in email this morning that at least it didn’t make me want to jump off the nearest bridge. Could the morning be breaking?

I go through this every year. There’s a definite order of things. First, teach the music. That’s fun. The singers are learning new stuff, and they immediately decide what they really dig, and which songs are not their favorites — but the learning is kind of fun. You know, like a discovery thing.

Then choreography rehearsals start, and some of the happy-happy falls away — especially for the kids who are not natural dancers (and they outnumber those who are). Frustration takes over almost immediately; they can’t do a fa-lap, the time step is out of the question, they can’t get the kicks high enough. I keep telling them that it’s a lot to learn at one time, and that they will get it eventually. It’s a long wait.

Next step: putting the stuff onstage with the singing and choreo. Train wreck. Lots of hair-pulling, and a small number of frustrated comments from the piano. All given in love, of course.

Penultimate phase: things actually look like they might someday, possibly, with an insane amount of luck, come together. That’s where we are right now, 24 days till opening.

We might make it.

FO

Speaking of Canada, it was their goal to “Own the Podium.” While they didn’t do that exactly, they did shine. They ended up with more gold medals than anyone else, which is cool for a host country to claim. Kind of bummed the US gave it up to them in hockey, but that’s sport for ya. Note to Apolo Ohno: holding up seven fingers after your race makes your fellow competitors wish you’d take a header into the wall, not to mention it just reinforces the stereotype of Americans being arrogant jerks. A little integrity and humility, please, for the sake of your country…

But enough of that. Back to me.

I have a 50/50 curve of my own coming up, only unsuccessfully navigating it is not an option. Why are we so demanding of ourselves? Is it our upbringing, as was alluded to in yesterday’s yammering? Fear of failure? Truth be told, it’s not *my* 50/50 as much as it is my students’. But as they say, the captain always goes down with the ship. If they miss some mark, I will bear it.

Still, as with the bobsled athletes, dedicated training has to pay off at some point. I have told my students on several occasions that they are living my vicarious dream: to be onstage again. My hope is that they see that for many of them, the opportunity they enjoy right now is temporary, as none of them will be musical theater majors, and almost all will not perform in musicals past high school. So, making the most of it while they have it is crucial.

And that realization will hopefully help them through the 50/50 curves.

Photo credit: Getty Images

Everyone reading this can think of a person or persons who had a sucky upbringing, but still managed to avoid becoming felons. They somehow side-stepped selling crystal meth, using cocaine and heroin, beating their spouses and children, or squandering what many would call a life of extraordinary financial privilege. I know many people like this, as a matter of fact.

The cynics among us would say that Cameron’s lawyers are just trying to get him the easiest sentence possible, which amounts to basically doing their jobs as defense attorneys. But in doing so, it always seems to come back to the perp being portrayed as a victim. It’s a pervasive, almost inescapable concept in American courts. Why? Because it works.

If I had a dime every time I heard/saw that a student’s parent called in or visited the school principal in order to force the administration to rescind a punishment — even though the child was clearly guilty — I could retire tomorrow. Conversely, if I had a dime every time I heard someone my age or close to it say, “If I got in trouble at school, it was worse when I got home,” I could have retired a year ago.

When did everything change? As a teacher, I see it every day: people going to astonishing lengths to avoid personal responsibility or extra work (or work at all). I’m not so naïve as to think it never happened in my childhood, or that I never tried it myself. But in my day, it was usually confined to student machinations. Now it’s the parents who are doing all the wheeling and dealing, while the kid stands behind them, basically going “Neener, you can’t touch me because my dad’s here.”

I know there are still parents out there who teach their children about accountability. It just seems that the parents who don’t are the ones getting all the press — and as we all know, the squeaky wheel, the constant dripping of water against a rock…

So did Michael Douglas make his son sell drugs? Is felonious behavior directly related to crappy parenting? I say no. Not in most cases, anyway. The triumph of the human spirit over adversity is a scenario played out millions of times all over the world every day. Does its apparent breakdown in certain individuals equal entitlement to not paying the consequences of one’s actions?

Hmmm. The Fink thinks. What say you, fiends?

Photo credit: Wireimage.com

Russian singers from the 60s — awesome. Russian singers lip-synching a vocalise on Soviet television, complete with gorgeous set tricked out in week-old mustard-colored backdrop and tattered fence-like apparatus — incomparable.

Watch it twice. It’s Finkday, after all. Treat yourself.

How’d that happen?

Seems like last week when I started this little labor of love. Once in awhile, someone will mention a subject I’ve written about here, and I won’t remember having done it. One day, I will revisit some early stuff and peruse the silliness.

But for now, I say a huge thank you to all my Finkville family for coming back every day or so to read, even if you don’t comment (and you know I wish you would). Many interesting conversations have taken place here over the last two years — I look forward to a few more, as long as I still have stuff to talk about.

And I will.

Gracias por todos,

RF

I know it’s an oxymoron, but today I realized its true importance. I’ve been up since 2:45, see. And while I was lying in the bed, trying to go back to sleep, several unfinished tasks popped into my head. I wanted to write them down because I knew I’d forget them by the time I got to school today — but I had no paper and pen.

Now it’s 4:10 a.m., and, as predicted, I have forgotten the lot. Great.

J’ever do that? Make a mental note to take care of something, then promptly lose the mental note? My sister is a list maker. She never forgets anything. The Thriller just never forgets anything, period. I’ve made lists a few times in the past, then lost them all.

Note to self: search the Droid Market for a free notepad app.

Update (3 minutes after typing above sentence): Downloaded the “Easy Note 2 Do” application. Now if I can just remember to use it…

Is it Saturday yet?

FO

1. I think I am going to like my hair (photo forthcoming for far-flung fiends — but it’s 5:40 a.m. right now, luvs…I look like ten miles of bad road)
2. Had a good rehearsal with some manbeasts after school yesterday
3. It’s Droid Day; meeting my Verizon guy after school to do the deed
4. No school delay this morning (yet, anyway) — thumbs up
5. This came in the mail yesterday. Heh. I think I’ll unearth my other diplomas (BME and M.Ed.) and do a little framey-hangey thing in my parlor, just to be a pretentious wonk. But first, a moment of silence preceding the deletion of all related bookmarks (class login, BU library, JSTOR, Chicago Manual of Style site, various & sundry dissertation/thesis help sites). Instead I will bookmark the Sallie Mae student loan payment gateway…yeah, fantastic.

:-/

Still, it’s a good day. Hope you have one, too.

Fink, finished, yay!

Of course, you know, this means I’m buying the Droid today.

Sometimes we go along during the rehearsal schedule and the “schedule” part tends to fade in importance. Then I say something like, “You know that we open in 5 weeks,” and the nauseated look on their faces brings us all back to earth. More snow days would worsen the nausea. I’m ready for it to quit. I hereby appeal to the weather gods to shew forth mercy and henceforth direct all snow accumulation to other locations. Thank you. Amen.

Having company for lunch today. I suppose I should get off this box and get some housework done. Insane week ahead, and the seven weeks after that don’t look too calm, either. Yay!

Happy Sunday, fiends. Get some rest.

So I had absolutely no idea about this.

Roger Ebert, longtime film critic for the Chicago Sun Times, had his lower jaw removed. The interview he gave Esquire is quite lengthy, but well worth the time. Talk about a healthy resignation to one’s circumstances. Wow.

I remember watching Siskel and Ebert At the Movies on TV for years running. After Gene Siskel died of a brain tumor, I stopped watching. I think he was my favorite of the two of them — he had the greatest zingers for Ebert when they disagreed. More importantly, it was a special chemistry that Siskel’s replacement never found with Ebert. Anyway, Ebert is still writing his reviews, although he does not eat or speak anymore. Can’t silence the pen. I like that.

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Charles Barkley is the worst rapper of all time.

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Photoshop, anyone? Olivia Newton-John did a print commercial for Olay, showing what fantastic results it gave her. Then she was photographed out and about shortly after:

Where are the truth-in-advertising people when you need them?

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I like ketchup on my hot dogs, and I don’t care who knows it. Nathan’s can just put that in their pipe and smoke it. Condiment snobbery…I tut at it.

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Jake went to the basketball game with me last night. Great fun. Grammie is worn out. Now back to watching the weather for the next event that will cancel my rehearsals. Life is fantastic….

FO

Photo credits: Associated Press