My inspection sticker expires this month, so I took the car to our dealer this morning (in case any work was needed) and discovered that our registration had expired two months ago! The current registration was nowhere to be found. What to do, what to do? Obviously I should drive to Braintree or to Watertown and get a new copy of the registration.
But wait! Maybe the wonders of technology will make this task easier. Sure enough, it turns out that car owners can easily download a perfect copy of their car registration in PDF format from the Registry of Motor Vehicles. Whew!
Everyone always blames the Registry and the Post Office for poor service, but here at least the Registry gets points for making this process a simple one. But I didn’t know which of the two organizations to blame for the missing registration: did the Registry fail to send it out, or did the Post Office fail to deliver it?
Anyone who has seen my desk can guess the real end to this story.
It turned out that the Registry had indeed sent out the registration in late May, the Post Office had delivered it promptly, and I had “filed” it in a pile of papers on my desk. So now we have two copies of the current registration. Perhaps the extra one will come in handy some day.
Apparently poster has become a verb. If Harvard says so, it must be true. This sign appears on the gate of the fence that separates Harvard Yard on the south from the Science Center and Memorial Hall on the north:
The City of Boston is installing new lights on the sides of the streets in my neighborhood and others. But there’s a lot of controversy about these LED bulbs.
On April 14 the Dorchester Reporter published an article under the headline “New street lights get applause.” It included the following remarks:
The new lights, which were installed with the help of power company NSTAR and energy efficiency block grant funds, use longer-lasting, 39-watt light emitting diodes (LEDs), allowing for greater night-time visibility because the distribution of light is more even in its focus on the street, and involving less energy usage.
…
Local residents say they have noticed a difference. “It’s like night and day on Myrtlebank,” said Sean Weir, head of the Cedar Grove Civic Association. “For the most part, I think it’s great.”
…
City officials say they worked with St. Mark’s Area Main Street, the BOLD Teens, and the Codman Square Neighborhood Council on the installation.
Sounds good, right? But not according to Barry Mullen and Kevin Barry in a letter published six days later in the Reporter:
The LED lighting provides focused bright light in the direction that it shines, much like the LED flashlights. This leaves the areas not in the direct beam as much darker than the former lights. The brightness of the LED makes sharp black & white contrasts between the areas in and out of the LED light.
Conversely, the lighting that has now replaced the LED’s on St. Mark’s Rd. more effectively diffuse the light. They give a day-time effect to the light. One can now see people standing in the shadows.
Features and descriptions are much easier to discern than in the stark contrasts created by LED lighting.
This is a public safety issue. Was the police department consulted about the effectiveness of the lighting? I implore people to come to Florida St. and see the distinctions for themselves. At Florida St. one can stand in one spot to see Glenrose Rd. with the LED lights and St. Mark’s Rd. with their replacement lights. Similarly, one can stand at Lonsdale St. to compare its LED lights to the more universal lighting on Florida St.
While we are all in favor of saving money, it would not be wise to jump at the new program for that consideration alone. If crime can’t be seen with LED lighting, then how much have we really saved?
So, who’s right? I think I’ll take Barry and Kevin up on their suggestion for “people to come to Florida St. and see the distinctions for themselves.” Maybe they’re right, though I suspect the issue isn’t with LEDs but with wattage. Here’s the response from Commissioner of Public Works Joanne Masaro:
We will upgrade the wattage as needed. We understand that what works on one street may not work somewhere else. This project is very important and we will work to evaluate it and make changes as needed.
I’ll let you know what I observe. This is an empirical question.
My D Block class was even more hyper and less focused than usual today, since it was the afternoon of the last day before vacation. Some of them really wanted to have a cat-drawing contest, so I gave in and let them do that. Almost (but not quite) everyone joined in, drawing cats on the whiteboard. Here’s Zoe’s second-place drawing, followed by Natalie’s first-place entry:
And here’s the class, minus those who left early for vacation and those who were unwilling to appear in the photo:
Once again we had delicious dim sum at Chau Chow in Dorchester…but one thing was different this time. Usually it happens that either Barbara and I are the only non-Asians in the place or else maybe there are one or two others. But this morning the restaurant was a hotbed of ethnic diversity! We saw a table of Latinos, a table of blacks, a mixed black-white couple, a table of people who were even whiter than we are…still of course an Asian majority, but it’s great to see such a diverse scene at a Dorchester restaurant. (Ashmont Grill, incidentally, is also becoming more and more diverse every month.) Let’s hope this trend continues.
“We should all embark on something completely new every ten years,” said Roy Strong, as quoted by Susan Hill in Howard’s End is on the Landing. When I read this opinion, I paused, closed the book, and thought for a while. I realized that that has pretty much been my philosophy, as long as we can be elastic about the prescription for “ten” as the magic number. In my twelfth year at Lincoln-Sudbury I joined some friends and colleagues in founding a new school. Intertwined with that effort was my experience in various software startups. About ten years after the initial planning for The Phoenix School began, I took on several endeavors, including teaching on television and teaching at The Saturday Course. Soon thereafter — certainly not ten years this time! — I joined Boston University Academy (BUA) as their first math teacher to help create their Math Department. Ten years after that I accepted the invitation from Harvard University to create — and then teach— the Quantitative Reasoning course at the Crimson Summer Academy. Spoiling the rough decennial pattern was my decision to move from BUA to Weston High School a mere four years after I started my work at BUA. Nevertheless, I think Strong has a point, a very good point. Of course there’s nothing magic about ten years, but new beginnings are a good idea. Don’t be afraid of professional change! That‘s what keeps you alive and active.
About seven weeks ago, music critic Anthony Tommasini took on the thankless task of listing the “the top 10 classical music composers in history, not including those still with us.” Of course this task is impossible; no matter whom he chose, there would be more people disagreeing with him than agreeing with him. But fortunately he made the right choice for the #1 position:
I am about to reveal my list, though as those who have been with me on this quest already know, I’ve dropped hints along the way. And the winner, the all-time great, is … Bach!
You wouldn’t really disagree, would you?
Tommasini continues…
My top spot goes to Bach, for his matchless combination of masterly musical engineering (as one reader put it) and profound expressivity. Since writing about Bach in the first article of this series I have been thinking more about the perception that he was considered old-fashioned in his day. Haydn was 18 when Bach died, in 1750, and Classicism was stirring. Bach was surely aware of the new trends. Yet he reacted by digging deeper into his way of doing things. In his austerely beautiful “Art of Fugue,” left incomplete at his death, Bach reduced complex counterpoint to its bare essentials, not even indicating the instrument (or instruments) for which these works were composed.
On his own terms he could be plenty modern. Though Bach never wrote an opera, he demonstrated visceral flair for drama in his sacred choral works, as in the crowd scenes in the Passions where people cry out with chilling vehemence for Jesus to be crucified. In keyboard works like the Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue, Bach anticipated the rhapsodic Romantic fervor of Liszt, even Rachmaninoff. And as I tried to show in the first video for this project, through his chorales alone Bach explored the far reaches of tonal harmony.
So, who comes after Bach? Here’s the entire list:
- Bach
- Mozart
- Beethoven
- Schubert
- Debussy
- Stravinsky
- Brahms
- Verdi
- Wagner
- Bartok
It’s not my list — but close enough. (Actually, it isn’t solely Tommasini’s list either, since he had solicited input from readers prior to assembling it.) The only one of the ten who does nothing for me is Debussy, but I certainly have no complaints about admiring nine out of the ten.
And speaking of #10 on the list, Bartok, a composer who would probably not make most people’s top ten, I need to report on a terrific concert I attended last night at the New England Conservatory’s Jordan Hall. The renowned Benjamin Zander conducted the NEC Philharmonia in Bartok’s wonderful Concerto for Orchestra and Dvorak’s beautiful Cello Concerto. The soloist for the Dvorak was fellow Dorchesterite Tony Rymer — “the famous Tony Rymer” as one of my former students once referred to this gifted 21-year-old back when he was only 18. Tony is a truly outstanding cellist who will indeed be famous, and I predict it will happen not too many years from now.
At school yesterday we had a special assembly sponsored by our local Amnesty International chapter. Here is the official description we were given ahead of time:
At the assembly on March 3, Thursday, the non-profit organization Invisible Children will be presenting their new documentary based on a former child soldier. Then a speaker from Uganda, a former child soldier, will share his experience and thoughts on the use of children in conflicts. There will be a brief Q & A with the audience at the end.
This calm description turned out to be something of an understatement. Both the moving documentary and the talk by the two speakers highlighted not only the role of child soldiers but also the massive death and destruction caused by Joseph Kony’s terrorists in Uganda and Congo. The audience of Weston High School students was engaged and respectful.
And yet…and yet…I have a couple of reservations. Why is Kony doing these horrible things? One of my students asked the speakers that, and did not get a satisfactory reply. Of course the Wikipedia article is not to be trusted (unlike math and linguistics, this is the kind of topic for which one needs to be suspicious of Wikipedia); saying that Kony wants to establish a government based on the Ten Commandments is bizarre at best. Second, both the festive aspects of parts of this well-made movie and the attempt to get everyone to “stay silent for 25 hours on April 25th” seem orthogonal to the problem and its possible solution. Maybe I’ve just been out of college for too long.
Finally, how does one do anything for 25 hours on a single day? Inquiring minds want to know.
They really shouldn’t be displaying a frayed flag. And I think they would get more business if they changed their name, perhaps to Red Sox.
Do read this excellent piece by Penelope Trunk. Although her focus is on Christmas in the workplace in the context of promoting diversity, her views have much wider applicability. Here are a couple of brief excerpts:
It seems there should be no debate that Christmas does not belong in the workplace. The people who disagree do not understand what it’s like to be a minority, and they fail to accept that Christmas is not a universal holiday.
…
Chanukah is a nothing holiday for the Jews. It’s a celebration of a war. It’s not even a requirement in the Torah that Jews celebrate Chanukah. We just make a big deal of it so the Jewish kids don’t feel ripped off in December.
Also, be sure to read the appalling comments that come right after Trunk’s essay. They provide an excellent illustration of why I don’t allow comments in this blog.
It was another international Thanksgiving at my sister’s house this year — nine Americans and nine visitors from abroad. I counted three from Germany, one from France, one from Korea, three from Taiwan, and apparently one from somewhere Spanish-speaking, but I lost track at that point. The highlight came when celebrating my niece Aviva’s 20th birthday: people sang Happy Birthday simultaneously in English, Chinese, German, French, Spanish, and Korean. We also sang other Thanksgiving classics, including “The Power and the Glory,” “This Land is Your Land,” “Pastures of Plenty,” and “Step by Step.”
Why is it that so many people say “daylight savings time” when the correct phrase so clearly is “daylight saving time”???? Do they think it’s like a savings account, where you put an hour of daylight in at one time and withdraw it at other?
Or is the problem the lack of a hyphen? Of course the phrase is supposed to be “daylight-saving time,” i.e. a time that saves daylight, where “daylight-saving” is used as an adjective (OK, technically it’s a participial phrase in which “daylight” is the direct object of the present participle “saving,” but it’s still used adjectivally). Things would be so much easier if we only spoke Latin.
My closely related rant is about the many people who think that the end of DST (now November, formerly October) is actually the beginning! The reason that this is (or may be) closely related to the phenomenon described above is that those who don’t understand the adjectival nature of “daylight-saving” also don’t understand that it’s what the Brits call “summer time.” Of course you could argue that no daylight is actually being saved in this process; it’s just shifted from one end of the day to the other during the summer. But the theory is that you lose an hour while you’re asleep and gain an hour while you’re still awake, thus saving daylight for your waking hours.
OK, enough of that. You may now return to your regularly scheduled activities.
Listen in on this conversation:
Teacher 1: I hear that you friend your students on Facebook.
Teacher 2: Not exactly. I accept friend requests from current and former students. But I never initiate them.
Teacher 1: Even so, it’s a really bad idea. They’ll see all sorts of personal things about you. You could get into a lot of trouble for this. Besides, you’re not their friend — you’re their teacher !
Teacher 3: Au contraire, mon frère. Teacher 2 doesn’t put personal things on Facebook. It’s a good thing to have connections with your students outside of school. And anyway, don’t you know that “friend” doesn’t really mean “friend” on Facebook?
OK, what’s going on here? This is a composite conversation, but not a fictional one. I’ve been in the roles of Teachers 2 and 3. Let’s dissect three very different points of view about this issue. The first is exemplified in a recent misguided editorial in the Boston Globe, headlined “Teachers: Friends, not ‘friends’.” Here is an excerpt:
A new policy enacted by the Norton school board that bans teachers from becoming Facebook friends with students on social media sites is a simple lesson in common sense.
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Some argue that the policy interferes with free speech and assembly rights. Others contend that teachers and students should communicate more, not less. At the college level, that may be true. But from kindergarten to high school, teachers should not need social media to reinforce their lesson plans. If a student has questions outside the classroom, email provides sufficient connection.
What we have here is a fine example of a straw-man argument. Who said that teachers “need social media to reinforce their lesson plans”? The Globe has simply invented a point of view from an imaginary opponent in order to argue against it. The issue isn’t whether we need social media; it’s simply whether it’s acceptable to accept friend requests.
Part of the problem here is the ambiguity of the word “friend.” Facebook users certainly understand the two meanings of the word. Only a naive adult could possibly confuse the two meanings. Only a naive adult could believe that a student who friends me really thinks that I’m his friend in the usual meaning of the word. Many Facebook users have a ridiculous number of “friends”; while I have only 152, one of my former students has 3187. But no one could plausibly think that she considers 3187 people to be actual friends!
I promised three very different points of view. The first one says that accepting friend requests from students is inappropriate; the second says that it’s OK; the third says that it’s something that teachers should do. (As an aside, note that many behaviors can be viewed as this sort of trichotomy. Pick a behavior; you can prohibit it, you can stay neutral, or you can encourage it.) The third point of view came to my attention twice in the past month. The first time was an article in Education Tech News, concerning the principal of All Saints Central School in Michigan. Here is an excerpt:
Principal John Hoving…said he uses Facebook to:
- promote the school
- connect with alumni, and
- increase communication with parents.
Hoving also friends students who send him friend requests. As a result, some parents and students have accused him of using Facebook to monitor students’ online activity.
Notice the not-so-subtle use of the verb “accused” in the last sentence. The article goes on to show why it’s completely the wrong word choice. In reality, the majority have commended him for this connection. (Note that Hoving, like me, accepts friend requests from students but doesn’t initiate them.) Read the follow-up:
Hoving pointed out that students do not have to send him friend requests, but if they choose to — he accepts.
Hoving says if he happens to see students posting questionable content in public forums, he feels it is his responsibility — as a concerned adult — to help students understand the potential consequences of their digital activity.
Several parents and students spoke out in support of Hoving, saying they are fine with his efforts to “look out for” everyone at school.
…
Richard Guerry, executive director of the Institute for Responsible Online and Cell-phone Communication (IROC2)…posed an intriguing question: Would parents who have an issue with the principal’s actions really want him to ignore potential problems — especially when he has an opportunity to protect their children before something happens? Hoving should “be commended for caring and protecting his students,” according to Guerry.
The second time I heard this view in the past month came in a conference with the parent of one of my students. She said that she insisted that her teenage children had to friend her, just so she could monitor what they’re putting on Facebook. (Yes, I know, the privacy settings complicate this claim, but it’s still a good idea.) For similar reasons she was pleased that they friend their teachers. We talked about the anonymous Teacher 1 in the dialog above (who remained anonymous, of course), and both of us agreed that there’s a simple solution to the problem of not wanting students to see inappropriate personal information about teachers. The solution is for teachers to follow the same advice that I give to students: don’t post anything that you don’t want the whole world to see! It ’s called the World Wide Web for a reason. Privacy is an illusion these days; when something is too personal for your teachers to see (if you’re a student) or too personal for your students to see (if you’re a teacher), then don’t post it! That’s my policy, and it should be yours.
In conclusion, I have to say that I suppose there’s actually a fourth point of view: that teachers should initiate friend requests. But I don’t hear anyone arguing for that.
Obviously I’m firmly with Hoving and Gerry on this issue. The Norton School Committee and the Boston Globe are badly off-base.
If you’re 18 or over, be sure to vote tomorrow! There’s a lot at stake. If you don’t vote, you have no right to complain.
…I am once again resuming posting in my blog…
Sasha just loves going to the vet:
Yikes! I see that it’s been almost three months since my last post. There’s no particular reason for this — I just got overtaken by events. So… welcome back, and I’ll try to resume regular blogging right now. I have lots of partially written entries that I will update and post, plus a bunch of new stuff to say. More tomorrow!
(For those who don’t know what Friday Cat Blogging is all about, see here or here or especially here.)
Today’s observation is that chairs are for humans. William doesn’t agree:
 
Vincent likes the riverboat too:
Vincent is shy and doesn’t like having his picture taken:
Meeting across the River has a truly unusual and creative premise for a collection of 20 short stories. Its subtitle, Stories Inspired by the Haunting Bruce Springsteen Song, reveals the premise: every story (each by a different author) was inspired in its own way by Springsteen’s “Meeting across the River.” Editors Jessica Kaye and Richard J. Brewer have selected a wide variety of tales, ranging from serious and intense to light and humorous. Because the song itself is quite ambiguous, the authors have been free to interpret it in many different ways, though all have stuck to the story line and the names of the characters, especially Eddie and Cherry. For instance, consider this stanza:
Well Cherry says she’s gonna walk
’Cause she found out I took her radio and hocked it
But Eddie, man, she don’t understand
That two grand’s practically sitting here in my pocket
We don’t know how the speaker is expecting to get his two grand — drugs? gambling? weapons deal? — but we definitely get a sense of what he is like and what Cherry is like, all from four short lines.
We don’t even know where this is all taking place, although the line “Gotta make it through the tunnel” and the fact that Springsteen is from Jersey certainly suggests that he’s talking about the Lincoln or Holland Tunnel and therefore the deal is in New York City. (Of course I might be biased, since I’m from Jersey myself.) Some of the authors follow up on this idea, some don’t. For instance, here is the opening of Eddie Muller’s contribution:
…He just stares straight ahead at the lights on Canal Street and aims the Cadillac toward the tunnel, getting us the hell out of Manhattan and back to Bayonne.
No doubt about the setting in that story, is there?
Perhaps the most creative setting is found in Eric Garcia’s story: a Monopoly board! Well, actually it’s the fictionalized Atlantic City featured in Monopoly, but Garcia’s characters are, of course, the Parker brothers, and we get paragraphs like this one:
So Jimmy kept walking. Past Eddie’s place on St. Charles, past the new hotel on Tennessee Avenue, past the free parking, Marvin Gardens, the old waterworks, and the rest of the chichi suburbs on Pacific and Pennsylvania Avenues. Jimmy kept moving because he had no choice. Soon he was past the high-rise towers on Park Place and heading for a walk on the boardwalk. After that, he figured he’d start all over again. Maybe find someone else to loan him two hundred bucks.
Other stories in the collection were written by William Kent Krueger, Pam Houston, C.J. Box, Gregg Hurwitz, Michael John Richardson, and a host of other authors. The stories range in length from six pages to 18, but the average is only ten, so the book is easily digested in bite-sized chunks. In order to avoid the easy trap of confusing one story with another — given the similarities of names and themes — I listened to them one or two at a time, spreading it over a period of many months. But of course it wouldn’t be hard to go through all 20 stories, one after another. Try them out in whichever manner you prefer, and be sure to listen to the song at several points along the way.
Rosie is cold:
William and Sasha in their riverboat:
Note the combo of decorations in front of this house on Furnace Brook Parkway in Quincy:
This is William of Orange, who seems to think that a plastic bucket in an old bathtub is a perfectly reasonable place in which to sit:
| Vincent posed specially for this photo, because he liked his contribution to all the strong vertical lines — particularly the line from his right ear through his front paws, the nearly vertical sweep of his tail, and of course all the vertical balusters and posts of the porch. |
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A major topic of high-school math is the study of transformations. My colleague, Jim McLaughlin, wants you to know that his desk has somehow undergone a miraculous transformation:
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One of my students asked me what Friday Cat Blogging is all about. You can read the answer here or here or especially here.
In other news, since today is Friday the 13th, we had to have a pop quiz in Honors Geometry. For only the second time in the past decade a Weston student managed to lose his quiz while taking it.
Anyway, back to Friday cat blogging: here is today’s picture, showing Timothy in one of his favorite spots: sitting atop Fred, the Footrest:
Geometry was never their strong point. It’s hard to get them to understand what “parallel” means:
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