Central Texas Rainforest

The psycho weather patterns have brought more rain to Central Texas than I've seen in years. It's slightly disconcerting to see green, lush lawns at this time of year, when we're usually in a drought and lawns brown because of major water rationing. There are unfamiliar wildflowers that normally don't get a chance to bloom for lack of water. The temperature hasn't even hit 100 yet, and by this time, we are normally sweltering.

We've been getting rain most every day, and with the lakes and water table to capacity, it has nowhere to go except up. It's tricky driving, as one never knows which routes may be flooded. Water rushing over a low-water crossing is extremely tempting to conquer, but most drownings occur when people think their SUV or monster truck can safely navigate. I use the word navigate on purpose. No matter how heavy your vehicle, water only a few inches deep can sweep it off the road and into a wild ride that generally ends in tragedy. Rapidly flowing water is a deadly force.

Global warming is here. Evidently, according to a meteorologist on NPR, normal patterns will be fluctuating like crazy for several decades before we go bottom up. I've always been energized and excited by extreme natural phenomena, but this is bordering on insanity. Knock on wood, I've made it through hurricane, fire, flood, earthquake, tornado, drought, et al relatively unscathed. At some point, the attraction will cease, and it will become just plain scary.

I learned that GWB's ranch in Crawford is completely green. Isn't that an oxymoron? Evidently, in a catastrophic event, he can survive most anything, because he's off the grid and can be self-sustaining for quite some time. Now, doesn't it seem logical that he would support eco-technology for the country? Oh, I forgot, he doesn't concern himself with us lesser beings.

Mold count is off the map. Not good for someone who is allergic to mold. I seem to be turning green, inside and out. On the other hand, I haven't had to water my outside plants all summer. By this time, they're either dead or languishing inside, not getting enough sun because I keep my blinds closed to help combat the heat gain in an old, upstairs duplex.

One of the first major floods left several inches of water in my office, and we've been "floating" around campus since then trying to find a location to plug in a laptop. My handy-dandy rolling backpack has helped, except in the rain. To keep files and laptop dry, I've had to schlep the pack on my back under an inadequate umbrella.

When physical plant sucked the water out of the offices and hallways, they discovered mold in the walls. They quarantined the area, replaced sheetrock, and repainted. All well and good. However, the first day back, I started coughing more and more, and broke out in a rash. So now I'm self-quarantined until they clean up all the construction detritus, and I get results from environmental allergy testing. Not the ideal work situation.

All during one of the busiest times of year. Lends new meaning to the phrase, "when it rains, it pours."

Shifting paradigms

This is the post from my recent guest blogger inclusion at Time Goes By. Figured it wouldn't hurt to include it here as well...

Kokopelliwoman's paradigm

Working for a university these days is like taking one step forward and two steps back. We received a letter from the Prez saying that the Texas State lege budgeted precious few monies for the next biennium. Then I had to "choose" our single remaining insurance plan. Next week staff dial-up internet goes away. None of this is inherently negative or bad. It is rather disconcerting, however, to realize that my Golden Years may be more modestly funded than I had planned. Prompting a reality check that paradigm shifts come in all shapes, sizes, and colors. Some appear in a blinding flash; others span decades.

There's a growing flood of elders who cannot afford to retire, regardless of whether or not we enjoy our work. This is not a matter of stopping all meaningful work to embark on some completely separate, magical journey; ceasing work that you truly love, that helps you remain productive. For me, this means remaining at my current job as long as possible, and supplementing with a side gig.

I tried that for close to a year. Selling and relentlessly/endlessly folding infant and toddler clothing in a high-end retail store for 20-40 hours a week on top of my day gig. Brutal. I fell asleep every time I sat down. Paradigm as rug yanked from under you. I did get an interesting scar...

That was several shifts ago. Lately, the frequency seems to be increasing. I'm beginning to believe that aging is a paradigm shift per se. The adventures never stop. This aging thing takes a lot of ingenuity, especially if you have limited resources. Acting against my instincts tends to attract negative shifts, so I've learned to depend on my intuition. The trick is to surf on top of the changes.

When I was six, my parents told us the Easter Bunny was too poor to visit that year. I felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach. In one fell swoop, all my childhood icons crumbled to reveal my folk's solemn faces in the dashboard light of our '52 Chevy. I swallowed the revelation with good grace. A pleasant fantasy, nourishment for a robust imagination. After all, I was growing up, and that was good. I was satisfied with my new perspective.

Since then, I've racked up a few "aha" moments. For instance, I assumed that everyone lived by the Golden Rule. Wrong. Took years to sink in that the world is not fair, and that it was unrealistic to expect it to be so. About that time, I finally understood that the only person you can change is yourself. A little later, I lived in Sydney for two years. Australians drive on the left. I actually felt the shift when my brain reversed directions. Driving was easy--when you see oncoming traffic, you'll automatically move to the left. It was much harder to adapt when walking. The childhood habit of looking right-left-right before crossing the street goes deep. Takes longer to make the flip. Oddly, walking didn't shift back when I returned. I continue to move left with oncoming pedestrians.

Recent shifts involve health issues. We've all been there. Some not especially good news that rips through your denial and turns your lifestyle upside down. That cold ball of fear in the pit of your stomach that tells you this paradigm shift means business. You are closer to death than to birth. Death and birth are cyclical, in a benign interpretation of that particular paradigm.

Some shifts sneak up on you. Think back to the early 1970's, and to the groundswell of concern about oil and the environment. We predicted that in thirty years we would be in an oil crisis. I allowed myself to be distracted. I lost that urgent drive to save the planet. Look what happened. The mess is worse than we predicted. We're hardly batting an eye while the current administration burns the house down with everyone in it. I guess some of us were not so distracted, and got busy manifesting that which we most dreaded.

Here's a happy shift: I don't care if anyone finds me attractive or even likes me. Great for reducing stress and saving money. I don't have to listen to commercials, read advertisements, or be bombarded with exactly why I'm not OK with the rest of the world. Makeup ads don't move me. IMHO, "looking younger" is a fantasy, and a complete waste of money. I'm not saying one shouldn't feel good about ones' self. That's part of being healthy.

Listen up--aging is not a sin or affliction--much in the same way that pregnancy and childbirth is not an illness. It's just life, folks. Growing old is cool, considering the alternative. Replace those worn-out, shallow paradigms with making someone's life a little better, take a trip to Prague, or write poetry.

Good or bad, I'm in for the ride. From daily minutiae to world-shaking events to mind-blowing revelations, I'll take any lesson the universal gear box torques out rather than live with a brittle, closed mind. Shifting can keep you agile and increase your options. Have you had a paradigm shift lately? Let's hear about it.

Ach, du Lieber!

Boston, excellent city of revolution. A welcome escape from the Texas heat and flooded work spaces. Hoping to meet the Boomer Chronicler, a blogger extraordinaire.

It's a drink of spring water just to be here, with my daughter, wanting only to be of assistance, firm up for support, keeping up with life's inevitable changes.

Bronchitis and a flooded office have kept me from the blog. Learning principles of Web design, living, dealing with aging, making sense of the insanity that rules the country at this time, accepting the reality of a world gone insane.

Crappola. List things to hang on to sanity: family, friends, Liebslieder Waltzes next fall, the possibility of life after retirement, surviving until then.

Lygeia. It all fits together. And crumbles and recreates and dissipates into lost opportunities. List the doors I chose not to enter. List the doors I did. Full, jumbled, no sense, too much sense.

Ravings. Keep learning. Surf the crest of the wave.

Not a particularly wonderful return to blogging. So what? What.

Partial Green reunion. A rock 'n roll band I used to sing backup with. A long-lost friend some thought was dead, but I knew better. He's retired to Costa Rica and loves it. Old boyfriends. Just so--boy friends. Maturity brings some rather unwelcome realizations.

One thing to hang onto: it furthers one to hold to one's values. Tightly.

Adios, au revoir, arrevederci, sayonara to the past. It's done. Make the most of what's left of the future.

Focus: senior Web design

Pacific Coast, Northern New South Wales, AU

It's time to look outside the sandbox and see what's going on out there. What I'm seeing is a shitload of Boomers who are intelligent, capable, tech savvy, and eloquent, presenting needs that must be addressed to ensure that the combined interstellar experienced body of knowledge of this generation can continue to benefit society rather than totally screw it up.

To do this, we need to accomodate our elder thinkers right from the start--design. The body of knowledge must be required research to acquaint our youth with designing across the spectrum. We're doing pretty well with technical literacy for the 21-45 age group (anecdotal guesses, at best). We could do much better with education, but it's coming along. The groups that have the greatest need (IMHO) remain able to communicate electronically as long as they wish are Boomers. We're beginning to face some real and show-stopping aging crises.

HUGE untapped workforce for ideas and change. DESERVING of a loving country that respects and reveres its elders and helps them remain productive and happy to the end of their days. Am I so wrooooong?

What the hell more do you want? I'm convinced we have a whole new market in designing specifically across the continuum. I am seeing some great stuff posted by us elderbloggers, real life answers to consolidate energy and have some to spare. Dang! There's the good'uns, and then...we can't read a comment that could change someone's life. Or at least offer them the opportunity to promote the health of us all by raising critical questions and participating in free, open dialogue focused toward regenerating and preserving humanity.

A new kind of corporation. A positive-outcomes oriented collaboration honestly working toward improving every person's life on the planet. There's no excuse for the governments to devolve to primitive political posturing when we have enough brain power, and the means for linking it, to solve a whole buttload of some nagging, fear-based reversals in human evolution.

I may be dreaming, I may be full of shit, but this truth I know: I will die sitting (or lying) at my keyboard, and I will do my best to make sure my friends can all do the same, so we can talk about it and write about it. :)

So how about it? I know that I'm at the far left end of the learning curve of researching exactly what's going on out there in the techie part of the senior usability equation, because I haven't met many yet. I need to change that. I met a few Appollonian and Dionysian designers and writers at SXSWi s, whom I would have loved to have more time to engage in that dialogue. There are so many savvy people I admire and would love to chat with. If you ARE a techie interested in a dialogue about this subject, then shoot me a comment. Or if you care to write about it, just let me know where to find you.

That should work, shouldn't it?

Wow. That class really got my synapses firing. Just finished two days with Pat Schnee, who teaches an oral presentation class (among other things) and she totally inspired me. Now, I do not use that accolade lightly. I saw her mold passionate speakers, break negative self-tapes, and produce a lively, loving boot camp on how to be an authentic, effective, and engaging communicator in front of a dozen plus strangers. Professional development as guerilla theater. Dynamite stuff. Got me going, obviously.

Pat pegged me as a rambler in less than ten seconds (duh)! And she understood me totally. I have never seen a trainer so involved with her students that she can relate to every single Myers-Briggs type. Her secret? She cares. She has a priceless well of knowledge and understanding. She's good. Incendiary combination.

So my area of remediation is rambling, did ya guess??

Alcoholism: truly a family disease

I have so much to say and no legitimate place to say it. The blog must suffice. I received a call from my daughter who told me her alcoholic father is drinking again. Sounds benign, doesn't it? In reality it is a statement fraught with heartbreak, betrayal, loneliness, and a name for a family illness that is so deceptive, so powerful, that it has the audacity to ruin entire generations, crush the strongest psyche, break the most forgiving hearts.

How can others not see? The fume-laden breath, the slurred words, the stumbling physique...the signs add up to a sum that some don't recognize, some refuse to recognize, and some recognize, but are stunned with so much pain that they lose the power to objectively protect themselves, or communicate with...the rest of the world.

In her usual fashion, daughter goes through fire, retires, and takes one to three days to synthesize and take stock of the situation. Only then will she contact me, armed with a possible solution, hurt to the quick, but reaching out for some semblance of support.

I, removed from the situation by geography and time, am more able to support her actions, fortifying her decision to refuse any communication until the father takes control of his own life. I urge caution, attendance to that which makes offspring healthy and happy, no matter what the parental behavior manifests. Karma will resolve itself.

The ultimate enabler, now that the divorce is resolved in psyche as well as in fact, she is his most vital relationship, more important than new wife and children. The betrayal of parent to child, never appropriate, never positive, weighs heavily on the both of us. The final straw, "Don't tell B (the new wife)," reminds me of a series of "Don't tell this person that," as if by denying, it ceases to be true. Living a lie is one of the saddest and most toxic conditions of the human experience.

The ultimate heartbreak is that there is real love. The disease of alcoholism is so devastating that it blots out all reason, all care, all appropriateness. It becomes a recurring nightmare, feeding the disease and leaving a tale of Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome and stress-related illnesses behind it, more often felling the family rather than the alcoholic.

All I can rationally do is support daughter's plan of action. What I WANT to do is fly to Princeton, and protect my child in a flurry of accusations, threats, and words of sharpened stainless steel. Annihillate the cause. Put it out of it's misery, and the pain that it causes others for whom the afflicted declares love.

This is not a a viable option, for her sake or mine. Instead, I reach out to a sister who has suffered the same pain, the same anxiety that her child is being consistently devastated by a parent whom they love, but are continually hurt by. They deserve better. My maternal instincts and hormones are bigger than life. I could easily overwhelm the transgressor and annihilate him in a holy jihad.

But this is not to be. I cannot fix this. Daughter must find a way to survive the frailties of the parent on her own to be authentic and to survive. All I can do is offer love, support, and understanding. It breaks my heart.

Mommy blog, indeed. A far cry from diapers and teething and first day of school. But more visceral, more instinctual, more protective. From a force that I have no control over, nor does the father, or the daughter. My instincts are raging, yet I must find my own way of discharging feelings of helplessness, being out of control, outrage, knowing that decisions I make while in the white hot heat of insanity must be correct and appropriate for my daughter to survive.

Humans are capable of such a polar panoply of emotions, conditions, reactions, behaviors. Would that this particular illness could be cured with an anodyne, a prescription. It isn't. It's real, devastating, and too easily perpetuated.

Deep breaths. Reminders to oneself to let go, detach with love, and simply be. Deep breath. Deep breath.

AARP gets it right this time

AARP's article entitled "Blogosphere 101" gets it right about elder bloggers. In a 2005 article, they spotlight a list of Elder Bloggers.

http://www.aarp.org/olderwiserwired/

http://www.aarp.org/research/ageline/

http://www.aarp.org/olderwiserwired/oww-events/event_aging_by_design_bentley_college.html

Unfortunately, I lost a whole bunch of research information shuffling from my work to my home computer. Maybe because I haven't joined AARP.....?

The ten percent discount can be nice...

In My Language

An eloquent and articulate look inside the brain of an autistic young woman via a video she produced. This is a must see project. The sophistication is stunning, and the revelation life-changing. Watch this video. Your attitudes and values will benefit. It will change your life and the way you view disabilities. Do it. Now.

Baby boomers: yo, yo, yo, yo, yo!

Some interesting sites on boomers and technology. Gee, I have so many, maybe I should devote a section in the sidebar to this subject...

National Association of Baby Boomer Women

http://www.nabbw.com/index.php

Rosemary and Jody--thanks!

Rosemary Daniell was gracious enough to publish a post from my blog on the Zona Rosa Web site. Thanks, Rosemary! And thanks to Jody Schiesser, her stellar Webmaster, as well. Be sure to check out his stuff.

Education is in worse shape than I thought

We're working in an architecture that uses Industrial Revolution systems on an Agrarian Revolution calendar to teach 21st century learners. So says Mark Milliton, and unfortunately, he's too right. The academy is archaic. There is no reason why IT can't work for education just as well, if not better, than the old model. Sometimes I feel Sisyphusian. Another madeup word. I have to be sad about this for a while. I don't want to wait until the kiddos who are in college and learning IT now take public office, or go into ed administration before we change the face of teaching and learning in the US. We are critically behind. According to this panel's statistics, colleges in China graduate @600,000 engineers a year, India @300,000, and the US 65,000. Even allowing for population differences, we are way behind. Every Child Left Behind is a failure. Anything after K-5 is a failure. The publish or perish tenure attitudes, especially at Tier 1 research universities does precious little to reward good teaching.

We are out of touch with our students, for the most part. We aren't really helping them learn the skills that they WILL be using when they graduate. Education is on the same priority level as something like taking out the trash, or maybe cleaning the toilet, if the amount of money and balance is any indication.

Not to say nobody is doing anything. I'm lucky to work at a Tier 1 university that does reward good teaching, even if it is only 10% of the awards given here. And many professors are on fire with improving education through IT, and proving it in the projects they support. That's pretty much what this article I'm writing is all about. The instructors who took the extra time to learn (or find a student or a colleague that could help them learn) how to appropriately apply technology to further learning.

Headline on the Daily Texan: President Powers to petition the State Legislature to allot more funds for education. Go for it, Bill! It would be the best thing you could do as a university president. This is giving me the incentive to post more about instructional technology. Note to self: link to IT sites in my Bookmarks.

WiFi and organic butternut squash soup

Sitting on the floor against a wall, recharging my computer, having a container of soup for lunch. Heard a fantastic story from my fellow recharger, guy from Boston named Joshua. At 4:30 this morning he was on Rt. 1 on his way to Logan in the dark, in the rain. Suddenly, looming out of the gloom, he saw a large object in his lane. He slammed on his brakes and swerved to avoid hitting the lumpy pile. As he tried to negotiate around it, he felt a bump, and saw that it was a woman lying prone right in the middle of the lane. Scared him silly. He pulled over, got out, and as he was rushing back to see if he'd killed the woman, a man ran up to him, shouting that it was his wife. He didn't appear too concerned about the fact that Josh might possibly have just run her over.

As they approached the woman, she got up, walked up to the car, and began to urge Josh to give the man a ride, he didn't need to be there, he should leave immediately. Josh was frantic to make sure she was OK, since he was convinced he hit her. The man said that he and the woman were staying in a hotel across the access road, and that they had been fighting. The woman threatened to commit suicide, and ran onto the highway and lay down.

By this time, Josh figured out that they were both high on one or more substances, and called for EMS. The highway patrol arrived, and asked him what his part was in the event. Josh said that other than running over the woman accidentally, he had no connection to the couple whatsoever. He was just concerned about the woman, and that's why he stopped. He stuck around long enough to make sure she was checked out and hadn't sustained any injuries.

The best he could ascertain was that he had, in fact, run over the woman's foot. She was wearing athletic shoes, and he surmised that her foot must have been sideways on the asphalt, and the rubber and steel construction was just sturdy enough to protect her foot when he rolled over it.

As Josh told me his story, I suggested he write it up. He was still reeling from the experience of being a hair from running over and possibly killing a strange woman. He told me I could relate his story; it's been a couple of weeks since I heard it, so Josh, I hope I got it right--and I hope you've recovered.

Day 2, SXSWi

Got a really nice surprise coming out of the first session this morning. I have a new job title! Information Writer II, which means I write about anything and everything.

"Writing, Better" was a panel made up of an "amateur" writer, Greg Storey of Airbag Industries; a "reader," Ethan Marcotte, of unstoppablerobotninja.com; Bronwyn Jones of Apple.com; and Erin Kissane of Happy Cog Studios and editor of A List Apart.

Learned a new term: chillaxed—doncha love it? Normally I'm leery of jargon, but this is such a great word. High points:

Storey—(chillaxed coiner)—"the Internet is a mosh pit," "keep whittling down your style til you find your groove."

Marcotte—"Paradise Lost is the biggest mix tape ever." "Find your rockstars--riff (don't rip) off someone else's life style, like jazz."

Jones—"Talk with, rather than at your readers—write in conversational style." "Write in e-mail!" "Keep your voice with you no matter the medium."

Kissane—"Know your audience, who you're writing for." "Focus, structure, clarity= plan, outline, write, revise."

Consensus advice: Don't let anything stop you from writing.

Interacting at SXSWi

Day one at SXSWi went fairly quickly. The registration process is as organized as it gets, I guess. At least this year they used badge photos from last year, so that shortened the time spent in huge lines. Met some nice gentlemen from Nova Scotia. They were duly impressed with our ephemeral good weather; they came from frigid cold to mid-80's or so. They were entranced by Austin, and said they'd try to get out as much as they can.

Heard Evan Smith, Texas Monthly editor, list his five things you have to do while you're in Austin for SXSWi. One of them was to get out and walk, especially at Wild Basin. Good idea. Texas has three seasons: ice cold or boiling hot, bookended by 1-2 weeks of primo conditions: dry, nice cumulous clouds, warm air, but with the ground still a bit chilly from winter on one end, and the same on the other, except the air is cooler and the ground is baked.

We are in drought, as usual, and I'm heartbroken that we probably won't have a good bluebonnet display this year. We need winter rain for them to prosper, and most of our precip was ice. Not to say one of the 4 weather systems that seem to battle over Texas at any given time might not bring a little moisture. Cloud tears, I heard someone say. "The Little White Cloud that Cried." One of my favorite tunes from childhood.

SXSWi, anyone?

South by Southwest interactive is drawing near...

The university has requisitioned a gold pass (interactive and film) for our group, and the anticipation is mounting. Austin transforms from a fairly sleepy college town into a beehive of activity during SXSW. We don't get passes for the music portion, but I don't care. I had a grand time last year, and met lots of brilliant, friendly people, and learned oodles about what's happening on the WWW.

I'm looking forward with great excitement to connect with folks I met last year, and meet new friends. And of course learn lots of new tricks.

Are you planning to attend SXSWi this year? Get in touch with me by commenting on this post, and I'll try to arrange a meet-up.

I know Liz Henry will be here, she's leading some sessions. And of course the ubiquitous Bruce Sterling. Dan Rather will give one of the keynote addresses, and His Wakiness, Ze Frank will be in attendance. The Sims daddy is scheduled, and more Web gurus than you can shake a stick at. And it's OK to end a sentence with a preposition. I said so.

The BlogHer ladies are coming, I hope we have a gathering at some point. I'd love to meet Ronni Bennett, and some of the silverback women bloggers. The boomers are hitching up to the 'net, and my new friend from the Boomer Chronicles may grace Austin with her presence.

This has been a phenomenal year of networking and meeting visionary bloggers and communicators. It has certainly enriched my life, and I've only scratched the surface. To think SXSW is growing annually is mind-blowing. As long as I can live in Austin, I plan to attend this event, if I don't do anything else.

One teeny problem is that I have a March 15 deadline for a fairly hefty, in-depth article about the tenth anniversary of our division's Innovative Instructional Technology Awards Program (IITAP) that's presently eating my lunch. The program awards cash prizes to faculty who have developed instructional tech for their classes, and so much is going on at UT that I'm totally inundated with history and descriptions of brilliant Web applications for the classroom. It's totally cool, I'm just a little worried about delivering on time, there's so much to include.

I have a pretty good angle, but the volume of interviews, notes, and putting the pieces together is taking all my time and effort. Would that I had an assistant to take care of the more pedantic chores--scheduling interviews, transcribing notes, doing laundry and dishes.... I need a housewife or househusband!!

This is going to be a dynamo month. A concert on March 31, SXSWi, the article deadline, and a couple of professional development classes just for openers. Then there's the Zona Rosa writers group, side editing gigs, not to mention my day gig--I'll be lucky to get to April in one piece. And I desperately want to visit my daughter in Boston and meet the Boomer Chronicler.

So if you're heading to Austin for SXSWi, let me know--let's get together!

Sloppiness and life in general--mostly music and grammar

Ronni Bennett, elder blogger par excellence, is a sister Nazi Grammar Policewoman. What the h**l is with our educational system that people don't even know how to diagram a sentence these days? That's not all Ronni blogs about, she's the grand dame of the elder bloggers, and always posts a lively comment on many issues.

But, gee, spelling, grammar, and word usage seem to have gone by the wayside in writing from bottom to top. I regularly edit writing produced by PhDs and am appalled by what is commonly accepted as good communication skills. Not to belabor the issue, but when a Dr. mispells a word, it really makes me wonder...

Just as there was a "new math," it seems there is a "new grammar." Kiddos learn verbs, THEN nouns. The word "predicate" is now only a whisper. I can see how learning the action portion of a sentence is compelling; however, I want to put the brakes on "dumbing down" grammar simply to make English more accessible to slackers.

Do I sound harsh? Perhaps. There are other nouveau practices that I heartily endorse: cut the jargon, write in a direct, clear, active voice, leave plenty of white space, and get the important points above the scroll line. These practices enhance communication rather than negate it. Spelling, good grammar and usage, however, are the basic architecture of human relationships, and I hate to see them go by the wayside, even though new ways to spell old words can be entertaining, to a certain extent.

Good on you, Ronni, for recognizing that we elder bloggers manage to adhere to the older best practices. Somehow I think we are the last of a dying breed. Speed and flash seem to be the buzz words of today. Get it up on the Web, and worry about the basics later, if ever. I am certain that we can do both. Send me something to edit, and I'll get it back to you in less than 24 hours. How much faster do you need it done than that? Even the most die-hard Web surfers have to sleep sometime :)

Which leads me to music. What's with the current sloppy rehearsal techniques? When I was in college, we were expected to do our very best every single time, not just at performance time. How can we improve if we don't challenge ourselves?

I sing with a semi-professional chamber chorus, and I'm constantly bitching about going flat. It truly hurts my ears, and if it goes on long enough, I get nauseated. What is our music education system doing these days that students can't develop a decent pitch memory? I tend to want to attribute it laziness--lack of breath support, not paying attention to dynamic markings, just "getting through" rehearsals until the performance.

The joy of music is as much in the journey as it is in the culminating performance. How can one expect to improve one's music skills if one only puts out the minimum required to (sort of) learn the music before curtain time? Is it so excruciatingly boring to not do your best? Why not develop that transcendence during rehearsals as well as in performance? I tend to cut everyone off at the knees over this issue.

NPR had a report that posited that your brain and ear "grow" to recognize and appreciate "pleasant" sounds, including your native language, and the language of justice, morals, etc. When your ear and brain encounter a "dissonant" sound, the body responds in a negative way. What has happened to our population that most people accept "less than" pitch or musical production? Doesn't it hurt their ears and stomach, too?

Have we reached a point in our civilization that we can no longer teach and absorb the basics in language, communication, music? What a sad state! I've often bragged that I can teach anyone to sing. Anyone CAN sing, if they pay attention, and WANT to sing. It's a skill that's learned like any other skill: pedagogy and practice. I always tell my students "Practice makes POSSIBLE, not PERFECT." We can sometimes get away with blind skill and luck, but in the long run, we'll never be happy until we dedicate all of our senses and focus to the task at hand.

OK, now I'm sounding old. It's true, though. Check it out. I can teach you how to sing, I'll guarantee it, as long as you honestly put all your resources into learning...

Shot in the arm for bloggers

Interesting meme going around recently. Don't know how it happened, but Fried Okra Productions was in included in 2000 Bloggers, a networking group started by

The idea is to stimulate communication among the various bloggers on the list. They suggest interviewing other bloggers, whether or not they are in 2000 Bloggers. Here is the script:

1. Why did you start blogging?
2. How do you describe your blog?
3. How has your blog changed over time?
4. Do you have any other blogs?
5. Do your family and friends blog, too?
6. What are you favorite blogs? Who do you read?

Who wants to play? Simply comment on this post, and I will forward it to 2000 Bloggers. If the 2000 number has not been met, you may become a 2000 Blogger, too!

Kinda nice way to get to know other people on the 'net. So all you regular readers, let me hear from you!
Take this to a new level.

Makes me more and more excited about SXSWi this year. It's bound to be even more helpful and meaningful than last year, my first. Looking forward to seeing folks I've been corresponding with one way or another in the intervening year.

Woodstock Generation, a contemporary view

A fabulous new friend sent this essay. Beautiful writing, with a stunning flower to accompany the piece. Thanks Bruce, looking forward to our next encounter.

WOODSTOCK GENERATION: WAKE UP, RECLAIM YOUR CORE VALUES, & TAKE OVER!

In case you haven’t noticed (just kidding!) your planet needs you. (No kidding!)

Those of us who experienced the consciousness revolution of the 1960s first-hand may have sometimes felt since then that the decade in question became an anachronism. Later generations often considered the ’60s “uncool.” Or at best quaint, unrealistic, or puzzling. The slogan “Peace & Love” became something corny, trite, even embarrassing. How many of us proudly profess to be a Flower Child, or to believe in Flower Power? It’s time to reconsider. For the planet’s sake.

I’m not prone to nostalgia, & I certainly have no desire to return to any earlier time. On the contrary, if I’ve learned anything in the last four decades, it’s the importance of being present, living in this moment: BE HERE NOW. Recently, to this challenge of mindfulness, or remaining engaged in the immediate, direct experience of living NOW, is added a new awareness.

My lifetime of searching brings me to something I’ve had all along. What some call the “Law of Attraction” is the latest key that has fallen into place. Recent scientific studies of happiness reveal that success does not cause happiness. Instead, happiness is a precursor of success, a pre-condition making you more likely to succeed. To struggle for goals only attracts negativity. Just do your best. BE HAPPY NOW. Flow.

This is definitely the most exciting, promising, & dire moment in human history. The planetary biosphere we call Gaia will most likely persist with or without us. We’re talking wake-up call. In order for humanity to get its act together in time to survive as a species, those who care enough must be willing to assume the roles of authority that our experience has prepared us for.

The so-called Baby Boomers are mostly those who remember when the Woodstock Festival happened, whether you attended or not. Most of you who recall that era have gone on to relative affluence & material success. Yet how many are truly happy now? Many have lost their way, forgotten what we have always known deep inside. We live in a culture built upon discontent. Still if you want what you have, you have what you want.

Most of the Woodstock Generation is now materially successful. In reality, the 1960s were not primarily about drugs or great music. Flower Power was a genuine evolutionary surge, a spiritual acceleration, a massive infusion of global awareness, even cosmic or universal concepts entering into collective awareness. The world has never been the same. It never will be the same. It can be better.

That era did not end with 1969. It went to seed. The seeds scattered over the planet & are now reaching maturity. Some of those now involved in politics simply never “got it” about Flower Power. In the early 21^st Century as the pendulum swings from political darkness toward a new dawn of awareness, we cannot afford to let it swing all the way back, ever again. Let that swing become a spiral of life. A dance of joy.

This is about waking up, though most of humanity sleepwalks through life, & that’s OK. Only the movers & shakers need to awaken. It’s about re-claiming our core values, what really matters: Peace & Love. It’s about taking over by accepting full responsibility for your actions, by assuming the kind of authority that serves the best interest of the planet. Only in this way can you serve humanity.

And indeed, many far younger humans have already gotten this message, that Peace & Love are what really matters. If there’s a future for us, it must be extremely green. As James Lovelock, originator of the Gaia Theory says: “The well being of Gaia must always come before that of ourselves: we cannot exist without Gaia.”

You can only teach others by example, by loving yourself well enough to care deeply about others. By loving your planet enough to place Nature first, the rest follows naturally.

Peace & Namaste,

Bruce

Copyright 2007 Bruce P. Grether/ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

South by Southwest Interactive

Starting to get a buzz on for this year's SXSWi. Dan Rather is speaking, as is the Sims creator. Saw a fabbo demonstration of Second Life in UT's island. Our group is exploring the implications for classroom IT, and so far, it looks good, even though it takes a lot of real time and bandwidth. It's a good thing I don't have the money to subscribe, or I'd spend waaay too much time there.

SXSWi excitement is building, it's less than a month away. Last year was a revelation. So many creative folks, so much creative activity. I learned much more than I expected. It will be fun to be with folks I met last year, find out what's new, share loads of information, and enjoy each other's company. I'm looking forward to it, even though it's exhausting.

In researching emerging technologies, I've come across thousands of sites on writing, blogging, aging, and other things I'm interested in, at work and at play. Perhaps I'll put them in lists in case anyone is interested. I know about del.ici.ous, et al, but I'd rather mess around in my blog than go to another site. I'm grateful to have so many enjoyable and challenging activities going on in my life, and don't want to give any of them up. Sometimes that means neglecting one thing or another, usually laundry.

Molly Ivins, 1944-2007

There was a full moon over Austin the night Molly died. I had flashed on her that day, and actually sent out an update on her health to everyone I thought might be interested. I took a few minutes to enjoy the moon on the way home from work that evening, and woke up to NPR Thursday morning to the news that she had passed away at 5 p.m. the day before.

Thursday morning I went to the Texas Observer Web site, to read their beautiful piece, and scanned the comments section, noting many friends. I wanted to gather my thoughts before commenting, and when I went back to the site on my lunch break I was astonished to find that the volume of comments from friends and even strangers who recognized what a truly courageous and great writer she was had totally crashed their server. Her last post was true essence d'Molly and is her most passionate ultimate rallying call ever. She makes me believe that the pen is mightier than the sword, especially when it speaks the truth.

Articles and memorials are pouring out all over the Internet for this remarkable woman, one of my three greatest sheroes--Molly, Ann Richards, and Barbara Jordan. They did more for me in my life and career than anyone outside my family. They taught me courage: they showed me that Texas women don't have to cave in to the typical "old boy" slings and arrows, but can take a place at the table with wisdom, humor, reason, sanity, compassion, and grace. They gave me hope. They gave me role models.

I met Molly on several occasions at friends' homes, but never had the honor of moving closer into her circles. She did "bless my heart" when I told her that of all the writers I knew, I kept up with her even while living in Australia for two years, and that I counted on her to tell the truth about what was really happening.

So many of the posts express loss, and I also wonder "who will write the truth for us now?" The answer, of course, is that there is no one who can write like Molly. She was a "one-off," with more influence and fans than she probably ever realized. We can't let her down. We must get out our pots and pans and long-handled chuckwagon chili spoons and beat them until they hear the truth in Washington. We can't let her flame go out.

I like Bill Moyers' post the best so far. He wrote it for the Observer, but I read it in Common Dreams. Another indication no other person's passing has seen such a deluge of loving posts than Molly's.

Rosemary Daniell and the Zona Rosa writing group

Last Saturday was a day of spiritual and creative breakthroughs. My writing teacher, Rosemary Daniell, the High Priestess of the Zona Rosa writing group, was in town giving a workshop to the Austin/San Antonio Sub-Rosa women who are obsessed with writing. I attended a prior workshop last May, and immediately knew that this was the place for me. Rosemary, author of Secrets of the Zona Rosa, The Woman Who Spilled Words All Over Herself, Fatal Flowers, and others, was as usual, a rock of support and information. Mainly, she brings out the best in any writer. Her books on writing are among the most down-to-earth, just-in-time, get to the guts of the matter how-to books I've ever come across.

And the woman is a goddess. A genteel, sexy, brilliant, competent recovered Southern Belle, she has influenced the works of many of today's well-known authors. She is a consummate editor, and delivers the goods in a loving manner, tinged with a saucy Southern flirtatious approach.

She encourages women to write their truths, and helps them do so in a professional, confident manner. She believes that women have a vital imperative to reveal their inner selves in a way that is most natural to them. At the same time that she gives writers invaluable tools and cues to tighten and craft words to their greatest effect.

Rosemary is a breath of fresh air, a scintillating jewel, and writes like a fallen angel. I am proud to link to her Web site, and I urge any writer to take advantage of her wisdom and experience and juiciness.

You can buy her books on Amazon (only four left in stock, more on the way), Barnes & Noble, and Powell's Books sites. If you're a woman, and you're serious about writing, Rosemary is your go-to guru.