Three Minute Posts: John Cleese Loves To Teach

I'm not sure if you're aware of this or not, but John Cleese from Monty Python fame has a long list of training videos on his resume, including "Meetings, Bloody Meetings." I've seen a few of them here and there, but they are prohibitively expensive. The last time I looked MBM was close to 800 smackeroos. Ah, now I see it's almost a cool grand.

The other day, I was cruising Netflix's Watch Instantly list and found two more teaching videos: "Wine for the Confused" and "The Human Face." The former is probably more overtly instructive while the latter is more of a documentary. If you ever want to do any training, I recommend watching "Wine for the Confused" to see a great facilitator in action. He knows how to probe for deeper responses and he also knows how to sum things up. There's also a good blend of humor and instruction combined with good transitions. I'd say it's a master class in Training and Development. Hmmm...maybe I should share it with my team at work...

Check it out if you get the chance.

Uphill Battles

Comic found at Toothpaste for Dinner

Isn't it wonderful?

You know you're going to have a long day in the Training & Support Business when your first task of the day is to explain what "quarterly" means.

Things My Co-Workers and I Randomly Researched While Bored At Work

Restless Leg Syndrome

J.J. Jackson

Loretta Lynn

Iowa Caucus Procedures

The Lizard Man

Omar Sharif

Is Charlton Heston Dead?

The Art of Game Design (work-related and definately worth reading for the prose styling alone)

What are you doing with your downtime?

Cold Comfort: A Poem

The sun scorches my retinas
As I dig for my shades
In the vast depths of
My Fossil handbag.

I climb in the car
And start her up
I back out of the drive
Every motion disrupting my equilibrium

I try to take comfort
That there is no traffic
In the near future
But I stop and buy Kleenex

No amount of gale force
I can muster
will dislodge the obstacles
In my sinus cavities

I sit in my cube
I listen to a trainer
I read about HIPAA
I sniffle

Curses! This cold...
Why now? Why me?
The snot in my head
Blocks my brain from learning

Thank God they all think I'm stupid.

Ahhh...Time!

I got home over an hour earlier than usual. Today went very well, all things considered. I caught Doc's cold on Saturday and spent most of Sunday in a cold-medicine induced stupor. I worried about looking like a strung out n'er-do-well on my first day at work, but nobody seemed to notice.

Everyone was very nice and they kept telling me, "You'll think you know what you're doing and then you'll realize you know nothing at all!" They've obviously underestimated my genius. So far, I'm keeping up. But there's a lot of reading and a lot of listening.

Thanks to all of you for your well-wishes. I really appreciate your support during this transition. I look forward to packing this place full of whimsy.

Love and kisses,
Flannery

New Beginnings

It's over. I'm finally done with my job in Cleveland. No more commute. No more nonsense. Well, no more of that brand of nonsense. Summer is over and fall is here. No more lawn mowing. No more mosquito bites.

Fresh crisp air and a dissipation of the strangling humidity. New job, new friends and a bright shiny new set of 15 hours I've regained in my weekly schedule by working closer to home. That also means about 3k saved a year in gas and that much less greenhouse emissions. I may even be able to quit taking antidepressants.

Now I have time to sit and watch the grass grow.

Consumer Question

I'm thinking of having one of these installed at my desk:

Anyone have any tips? What's the best brand, price point? What options should I insist on and which can I live without? Should I spring for the warantee? Should I have it installed or can I install it myself?

I'll probably do some comparison reports, but I always try to get real people's opinions before I make a final decision.

Two Weeks Notice: A Midterm Update

I'm sitting here at my desk, racking my brains trying to find something to write about. Lately, everything that pops into my head that then makes it to my blog seems to be as fluffy and insubstantial as a cheese puff. Maybe it's because my life is in limbo. I have one more week after this one until I start my new job and there's nothing really for me to do, except clean out my desk.

I'm really mentally gone from this place. I don't even want to gather my stuff up. I just want to flip everyone the bird and flee. I've been trying to find other work for years with no luck and finally, finally, this new job drops out of the sky and into my lap, just in time. So, now I have six more days of long-distance commuting, six more days of blinking through the tears, six more days of repressed anger, six more days of looking busy.

How did I do it for so long, you wonder. Anti-depressants and a will to survive. For over four years now, I've sacrificed my autonomy and my identity. I've shut up and done what I was told. I've learned how to keep my distance from my work and take criticism like a man. I've discovered how to do things without caring about getting the credit. One thing I'm wondering is this: Is the only path to humility paved with humiliation? That was the path I've been on and it would be nice to know of another way.

I've been subordinated and exploited, then crumpled up and tossed out. But, they say, it's nothing personal, just business. I should dust myself off and move on, either by accepting the crumbs and sloppy seconds they offer me or turn away towards a new endeavor. Should it be the devil you know or the devil you don't know? I'll always opt for the devil I don't know and that's what makes me different from the people I work for. I'm willing to rock the boat. They are not. And that's a sad statement for many reasons.

So much the better that I can escape with my soul intact. I outlasted this job. I did not run away from adversity. I learned how to survive Theory X management. I've developed a nose for politics and a healthy respect for the power politics has to destroy. I've learned never to underestimate the cunning of those in power; how else did they get to the top? I have not been broken.

It's a dog-eat-dog world out there. I used to think that, at least in education, people's intentions were good. Not true. Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely. I would urge you to keep an eye on education in your neck of the woods. There's a lot of money, a lot of power concentrated in the very few, and some wolves in sheep's clothing.

For now, I've hit the pause button in my lizard brain to numb myself to the indignity of it all. But, I swear, as God as my witness, I shall never be powerless again. I won't panic and take a job just because it's there. I won't blindly do what I am told in order to keep the peace. I will continue to accept feedback on my work, but I will also expect appropriate recognition and compensation. And I will get out of this pink collar world for a while.

But I haven't let myself dream about my next job. I don't want to create a set of expectations about my new work that will end up tripping me in the future. I want to go in with a clean slate and build my expectations based on reality. I don't want to make any assumptions, if I can help it. I want to take my time and feel my way around. But I can't think about that right now.

For now, I need to sort through the random items I've collected at my desk: piles of paystubs representing years of my life, old post cards, 3.5" floppy disks, FISH Philosophy goo-gahs, marbles (don't ask), a black thermal mug with flames on it, Christmas cards, ancient cup-a-soup, and a barrel of monkeys (sans barell). To tell the truth, I didn't bring a lot of personal stuff to work; I've had one foot out the door since I got here. So, packing up shouldn't be a lot of work.

But, having all this time on my hands, I'll be able to look around here and see what you all are doing and hear what you're thinking about. It's good to see that there are so many like-minded people out there with good hearts and good intentions. It gives me hope for humanity to know it, frankly. Maybe, while I'm in limbo, it might be a good idea to have someone else take over here for a while. With all the dark and thundery thoughts I have, I'm not sure I'll be able to keep up the froth.

Who's game?

I'm About To Go Into A Meeting...

...Where they will lay me off. I love how long it takes a bureacracy to catch up to reality.

What I Will Miss About My "Old" Job

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"And I'm so tired of tryin' to stand against it all alone..."

I've been offered a new job!!!

I'm celebrating with the song above. Please listen to it but ignore the stupid pictures. The people who made that video obviously didn't ever listen to the words, other than "This is the last morning." Idiots.

I will be working as a software trainer and my commute will be about 15 minutes instead of an hour and 15 minutes. There will also be some travel and a HELLOVA LOT LESS BULLSHIT. I hope.

Slinky!

I can't think without my slinky. I have two on my desk and one on my bookshelf. That way, if my colleagues stop by, we can each have one. I don't know what it is about this funny little spring, but I always am able to think things through when I've got one in my hands.

What helps you think?

What Is It About Feta Cheese?

Yesterday, Sarah, Martha, Ron and I went to lunch at Aladdin's Bakery, a lovely little hole-in-the-wall about 15 minutes' walk from our office. It was a beautiful summer afternoon, but the sun was very bright. Unfortunatly, for me, the only sunglasses I had were Riley's Strawbery Shortcake glasses, which are pink, glittery and cat-eyed. The glare was so strong, I was forced to wear them, though Ron said they looked good.

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When we arrived at Aladdin's, the place was filling up. It's a lunch counter attached to a small Middle Eastern grocery and they bake their own pita's in a small factory at the back of the bakery. Actually, they bake enough pitas to stock stores all around the region. We scanned the menu and placed our orders. There were tables, but they were pub height and there were no chairs. Sarah had set sights on one of the four tables and laid claim. We gathered over there and began taking in our surroundings.

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On one wall was a refrigerated case with all the things you'd expect to find at a Middle Eastern grocery: hummus, milk made from incomprehensible sources, chick peas, etc. Toward the back was a separate room for dried goods and behind us was a bakery with pitas in every variety you could think of.

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We hovered near the table trying to absorb it all, while trying to hear our names called, announcing our food to be ready. At one point, Ron, Sarah, and I were inexplicably and simultaniously drawn to a refrigerated display case near the bakery. It contained three large, clear plastic bins, about double the size of the bin at the airport that you put your stuff in to be X-rayed. These bins were half-full of water and sitting in the water were giant bricks of feta cheese, one in each bin.

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The three of us were transfixed. I'm not sure what the others were thinking, but I was staring in horror. Because the cheese was sitting in water, it kind of wobbled a bit when the guy behind the counter reached in. I felt a swoon of nausea as this brick of goo shook menacingly at me, like it was a mad scientists experiement gone bad and planned to slink off the counter and begin consuming us.

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"Uh, what are y'all lookin' at?" Martha asked, mystified, thinking maybe there was something truly exotic in the case. As she peered over our shoulders and saw blocks of cheese, she gave us the stink eye.

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"That's it? Feta cheese?" She wrinkled her nose at us, disappointed.

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We sheepishly returned to the table as she mocked us goodnaturedly for our fascination. Ron had admitted being overcome by seeing so much feta. He's a big fan and claimed the display "a thing of wonder and joy." Sarah was equally impressed by the amount of feta before her. Of course, I told them that it looked like an experiement gone bad and they all agreed that only I would see feta cheese in that way.

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As we ate our lunch we continued to examine the foodstuffs around us, peeking with avid curiousity at the exotic cookies on display at the bakery counter, many of which included pistachio...mmm...pistachio. One of the owners noticed and went behind the counter to fix up a plate of samples.

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"Here," he said, "sliding the plate onto our table. There were four different cookies and pistachio date roll of some kind. "I noticed you looking at the cookies and I though you might like to sample some." We always get free stuff when Martha is with us; she's could be a supermodel, if she wasn't so nice.

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We must have looked like a bunch of star-struck tweens at a Justin Timberlake appearance as we thanked him and began breaking off pieces and sampling the goods. Oh. My. God. There was one cookie that was just like a shortbread, only much sweeter and it was accented with three pistachios on top. It was heavenly. We immediately rued that we had taken so long to try this place out and vowed to return often.

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Ron and Sarah began buying pitas and Ron got a dozen of the shortbreads to take to his grandma's birthday party that night. I told him his cookies would be a hit. By the way, the food was also very good and very fresh. I recommend it, if you ever find yourself in Cleveland, craving a meat pie and falafel.

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We made our way back to the office slowly. Ron and I discussed the evils of Strawberry Shortcake and why the creaters of Veggie Tales chose vegetables as God's spokespeople (we agreed that no Bible-thumpers would ever want fruits advocating God). It was bittersweet. Such a lovely lunch, but it marks about the half-way point until Sarah departs us. There are very few lunches for us at Aladdin's in our future.

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But nevermind. Nothing so wonderful can't be savored again in memory.

Rossi's Law

The expected value for any measured effect of a social program is zero.

...Kind of makes me want to chuck it all join the circus.

Yay! I Will Probably Be Laid Off!!!

Yes, folks, the writing is on the wall. Of course, we have to go through a bunch of job analysis, crying and group therapy first, but I'm pretty sure I'm a goner. But don't be sad, I've been trying to figure out a way to get out of this job for FOUR YEARS. Finally, God closed the door on this place and has opened up another one. I am Dorothy leaving sepia tones for rich technicolor.

Lucky for me, I'm in the union and at a university. When everything's official, I will have a minimum of 30 day's notice. In the meantime, if another position at my salary grade appears, I will get placed in it at the same salary level, no interviews necessary. This is called Recall Rights and I have them for 18 months after I'm laid off.

Oh. my. God. I am so thrilled I can hardly stand it. Most of you don't know what my worklife has been like because I purposly don't talk about it here, though I have provided glimpses. But, while I do worthy work, I am usually trying to do that work while everyone in the world is trying to stop me. So this is what I say to them:

Kiss my ass! I'm outta here!

Quote From A Co-Worker

After explaining a situation that made her feel righteously angry she said, "Oh, my freakin' goodness!"

Her piety cracks me up.

There! I'm About Halfway Through The Stack...

Leadership Lessons From Amanda: How To Get To The Top

In order to crush a female colleague's career and take her job, you need motivation. If you don't have motivation, other than a lust for power, why not generate it by dangling your hunky soccer-playing boyfriend in front of her until she succumbs to his boyish charms and his empty eyes. Then set her up for the fall. Let's watch the master in action...

Here are some tips to walk away with:

• Always take responsibility for failure and success
• Never air your personal business in front of clients
• Always be prepared to go in for the kill
• Err on the side of professionalism
• Always wear a power color, like, say red
• In order to instill confidence in clients and board members, speak in a clipped and concise manner
• Figure out how best to look like the injured party in order to garner sympathy

Yesterday, God Busted My Ass...Twice!

I believe in the notion that hubris brings about a fall and I have the wounds to prove it. Sometimes I get pretty pleased with myself (no, really, I do), and yesterday was a banner day. I saw the results of two years of struggle culminate in a very satisfying way yesterday. Also, I've been pretty high on myself with regard to starting my new masters program.

My colleagues and I were walking over to the conference center yesterday to hear a big wig (or so we thought) motivational speaker. I was jabbering away about something when the heel of my shoe caught on the cuff of my pants, and, since I was walking at a good clip, not only did I begin to fall down, but I was also propelled forward spectacularly. I hit the ground with the percussive force of an old-timey oil drill.

"Let me help you up," said M as she reached down.

"Not just yet, I need to sit here for a moment," I replied.

It took me about a minute to recover from the force of the impact. In my moment of recovery, I reflected that this particular combination of shoes and slacks was dangerous and might be deadly and I ought to be more careful throughout the day.

And I was. But during the day, I began to feel pretty full of myself. I enjoyed the discovery that something we thought was very bad for us turned out to be very good instead. I was hit with the realization that, not only am I totally ready to take on this masters degree program, but I'll probably be able to do it without breaking a sweat. I was revelling in me. I had twinging sensations that I sounded a lot like the Hare in the Tortoise and the Hare fable, but I brushed them away.

As the ladies and I were leaving work, I was jabbering on about something else altogether. You may not know this about me, but when I get a good head of steam going, conversationally, I begin to forget about my surroundings and responsibilities. In fact, one time, when I worked as an assistant to a blind guy, I was leading him to my car in the parking lot, and was in full-on gab mode. I warned him that there was a step, but I think he was tuning me out and he went down. Boy, nothing in the world makes you feel much more like a humanitarian than dumping a blind guy down on his knees in the parking lot of Staples.

So, we were about 15 feet from my car, and wouldn't you know it? The same heel on the same shoe caught in the same cuff and I went down again, re-injuring my knee and now my ankle. I could barely walk. I hobbled, with assistance, to my car (with a manual transmission) and got in. I began to wonder if God was trying to tell me something. Or maybe it was karma. At any rate, I began to think back on why I might have deserved to have the same punishment twice, with cumulative pain, in one day. Then the light went on.

1. One time, Doc, Elizabeth and I were hanging out in our garage/lodge. He had just gotten out of the hot tub and was telling us a story about one thing or another. He turned his back towards us and began to walk toward the kitchen door. The next thing we know, he pitches over like a felled pine tree. There was a beat of silence.
   
   "Are you OK?" we asked him.
   
   "I'm fine," he winced.
   
   And then I started to laugh. I couldn't help it. I blame America's Funniest Home videos. I shouldn't have laughed, it was my fault he fell. I had left my purse on the floor and he stepped first into one loopy handle with his right foot, and then the other with his left. Both of his feet were caught in my purse handles. He later described the sensation he had as he fell as "Feeling like I was a horse trying to get into my own saddle." I can't help it. I'm laughing as I write this. It was funny. I think my first fall was punishment for laughing at Doc.
   
   
2. The second fall of the day was pure and simple. I was puffed up with pride and I was gloating. I quite literally was knocked down a peg.

So, what did I do with such a clear message from the universe? Well, first and foremost, as soon as I got into my garage, I took those pants off, handed them to Doc, and asked him to please burn those God damned devil pants. Second, I quite literally interpreted the message: keep close to the ground, humble. "Only the penitent [wo]man shall pass."

I'm still pleased with myself, my accomplishments, my future plans. But, I'm going to stop revelling in it. It really is unseemly, unkind, and it makes me look like an asshole.

Thanks, God. You're a true friend; next time, though, I'll remember to read the memo.

P.S. Doc laughed his ass off when he heard this story. I totally deserved it.

Ahem...

Sorry I lost my cool you guys. Poverty is a hot button issue with me. I think about it every day and my work involves trying to alleviate its effects on learning. I could go on an on about how the poor start out in school at least three years behind their middle and upper class counterparts (at age five, they are already more than half their lifetime behind!) how hunger and toothaches prevent children from learning, how cultural differences can cause some children to be labeled "learning disabled" because the way they act and learn is different from their middle class teacher's way of doing things, how their parents are afraid to into the school because of negative experiences they had as students so these kids have no one to advocate for them. You tell me how will they ever escape poverty without academic success. They won't in a knowledge/information based economy, that's for sure and they won't get the education they need without an even playing field.

In W's defense, I am totally behind his sweeping legislation called the No Child Left Behind Act. I believe it is a civil rights act even more so than an educational one. It forces schools to be accountable for "subgroups" they were never held accountable for before, i.e. special ed kids, minorities, free and reduced lunch kids. NCLB is imperfect, it is shamefully underfunded, and its implemementation has been problematic. However, it is up for renewal and many educators and education organizations have made very specific recommendations for its improvement.

If not for the war in Iraq, Katrina, and all the closed-door dealing that has gone on, his legacy could have been one of a president who shined a light on inequity in education and made steps to correct it. So, perhaps I was a bit unfair in my attack the other day. However, I do believe that sometimes his left hand doesn't know what his right hand is doing, and not in a good way. With one hand, he is trying to level the playing field for everyone to have success in America. With the other, he is spending every penny he can find to fund the war in Iraq and it breaks my heart. Just think of what the US Education system could do with $24 BILLION.

But we do what we can with what we've got. NCLB is a grand, if problematic, idea. When a democrat takes office in January 2009 and NCLB is renewed with improvements recommended by education professionals, and we withdraw our troops from Iraq, we may see things start to change for the better. Until then we must continue to move forward the best we can.