I just recently bought another book to read and add to my collection. "Aesop's Fables" contains many very brief lesson stories, usually not more than 1-2 paragraphs in length. Here is one I particularly enjoyed. If you are not familiar with these, there is usually a moral to be taught by them.
The North Wind and the Sun:
A dispute arose between the north wind and the sun, each claiming that he was stronger than the other. at last they agreed to try their powers upon a traveler, to see which could soonest strip him of his cloak. The north wind had the first try; and, gathering up all his force for the attach, he came whirling furiously down upon the man, and caught up his cloak as though he would wrest it from him by one signle effort. But the harder the blew, the more closely the man wrapped it round himself. Then came the turn of the sun. At first he beamed gently upon the traveler, who soon unclasped his cloak and walked on with it hanging loosely about his shoulders. Then he shone forth in his full strength, and the man, before he had gone many steps, was glad to throw his cloak right off and complete his journey more lightly clad.
What's the lesson here? (Think before looking.)
Persuasion is better than force.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Memory. . .
I was just cleaning out my room. (Yes, I do accomplish that ONCE in a while.) I was going through one of my boxes and came across some envelopes. I was opening them to see what they were and if I still needed them when I found one that brought back a memory. (I think I'll hang on to this one.)
Most people who know me know that I was studying to go into teaching, to teach high school level Spanish specifically. I was not able to accomplish that dream and will not be going back to do it at this point. In the end it would not be worth all of the work to get back to that level and most definitely I would not be able to justify the severe paycut. (A terribly sad commentary considering that I now earn more money in my semi-professional job/career that I now have and enjoy for the most part.)
College was fun and I learned a great deal. The hardest part of the whole thing were the two semesters that I spent student teaching. Student teaching at the high school level usually only lasts one semester, but for me it lasted two as I attempted to demonstrate various proficiencies that are expected of any teaching candidate. (I was not able to pass the first semester for many reasons, so I was given a second chance and took another stab at it a second semester at a different school than the first.)
Student teaching, and really teaching in general, is full of so many challenges, from the fairly obvious of grading papers to the more profound and difficult aspects: how to keep a classroom of 25 students all engaged, learning the subject that you are presenting, and meeting the needs of each of those students to the best of one's ability. Oh, yes, and don't forget that it's not just 25 students either. It's classes of 25 students, and you usually have 4-6 classes. Grading papers, all 6000 of them each week (or so it seems), certainly is a big part of it, but does not even compare with the rest of what comes with the job. Spending 3-4 hours each night planning lessons for the coming days, weekends thinking about the lessons for the coming days. An actual teacher would be able to vouch for the fact that this is not even the tip of the iceberg and not even the appetizer course of the 7 course dinner that is teaching.
Now, having said this, this blog entry is not about all of that really hard stuff, but just a simple memory of one simple occurrence during my time that I did my student teaching at Berthoud High School in the Spring of 2003.
During the course of that winter semester, the school's boy's basketball team had a great season. Tim and Dimitri and so many others played so well and worked so hard on the court and were so much fun to have in class, among so many others whose names I no longer recall and whose faces have now faded from memory.
As a result of the post-season victories and for playing so well, the boys team was able to go to the state playoffs and play at the Pepsi Center in Denver, CO. I believe the game they made it to may have been the quarterfinals before they were sadly defeated and sent packing.
Because of the job that I had while I was student teaching (even though I had the workload of a teacher, a student teacher actually pays tuition for the experience/opportunity to student teach), I was able to borrow a pretty nice SLR camera (if you don't know what SLR is, just picture those big fancy, expensive-looking cameras that the pros use) and take on the bus. I went to the game as one of the faculty chaperons. The school was given one media pass to use for taking pictures on the floor at the Pepsi center (on the sidelines of the court while the game is happening). One student used the media pass during the first half of the game while I spent that time up in the stands taking pictures of all of the students and others that were able to ride down on the bus(es). During the second half we traded and I was able to go down on the floor and take pictures. I'm not much of a photographer but it was a digital camera and a nice enough one that really all you need to worry about with the camera is getting a good composure, the camera can handle most everything else.
I don't recall how many pictures I took, of course there were some good ones and some others that were a little bit fuzzy or otherwise were just bad pictures. After the game, I downloaded the pictures to my laptop at home. A few days later one of my cooperating teachers suggested it might be a good idea to make copies of the pictures, putting them on a cd, and giving some of those to some of the teachers at the school. I think I made 5 discs and passed them out to some that I thought would like to have them, the basketball coach, principal, a couple of others, and the yearbook teacher. I gave them the discs probably during the last week few weeks of school. A few weeks went by and I hadn't given it much thought, until I got a letter in the mail one day. That brings me to the point of this blog. I copy the text of it below:
June 9, 2003
Dear Ben Echols,
Hello! I hope this letter finds you somehow. I wanted to say thank you for the fabulous digital pictures. I got them just in time!!! Yearbook staff was finishing the yearbook on Monday, June 2nd and we were having the worst time with the State pages. (State refers to the state basketball tournament of course.) We lost the State basketball pictures and we were
trying to make the best of a horrible layout. I just happened to stop by my mailbox on the way out the door that afternoon and found your CD. I almost cried tears of joy when I read the cover. So, I downloaded the horrible, lost-cause state pages and took them home to "fix" on my laptop. I almost cried again when I opened your CD and saw the amount of pictures and quality. I stayed up until midnight fixing the pages to meet our Tuesday morning deadline. I did not even get to go through all the photos on the CD-no time. I ended up putting 4 of your photos on the state pages and a smile on the sports editor's face the next morning when I told him the incredible news. YOU SAVED THOSE PAGES!!! You have made us look good and I gave you photo credit. I wanted to say a BIG thank you and let you know you have made a permanent mark on BHS forever. Anyway. . . I hope your summer is going well and good luck!!! Again, THANKS.
Sincerely,
(JQ)
BHS Yearbook Advisor
(Initials have replaced the Yearbook Advisor's name for purposes of this blog.)
I won't say that I think often about that experience, though it does cross my mind from time to time. I just thought this would be a nice different kind of story to write and add to my blog. I won't really take credit for anything. The pictures were pretty good, but I think the pictures were only a small part of it. I can't really take credit for anything else, because it was not my idea to share them with the rest of the school. (I mean that not to be impolite in any way. I just probably would not have thought to do that myself. I think that was someone else that was inspired to tell me to share them with some of the teachers.) I'm sure I still have those pictures on a disc somewhere in one of my boxes. This isn't so much about the pictures but just one of the experiences I had during my brief experience student teaching.
Most people who know me know that I was studying to go into teaching, to teach high school level Spanish specifically. I was not able to accomplish that dream and will not be going back to do it at this point. In the end it would not be worth all of the work to get back to that level and most definitely I would not be able to justify the severe paycut. (A terribly sad commentary considering that I now earn more money in my semi-professional job/career that I now have and enjoy for the most part.)
College was fun and I learned a great deal. The hardest part of the whole thing were the two semesters that I spent student teaching. Student teaching at the high school level usually only lasts one semester, but for me it lasted two as I attempted to demonstrate various proficiencies that are expected of any teaching candidate. (I was not able to pass the first semester for many reasons, so I was given a second chance and took another stab at it a second semester at a different school than the first.)
Student teaching, and really teaching in general, is full of so many challenges, from the fairly obvious of grading papers to the more profound and difficult aspects: how to keep a classroom of 25 students all engaged, learning the subject that you are presenting, and meeting the needs of each of those students to the best of one's ability. Oh, yes, and don't forget that it's not just 25 students either. It's classes of 25 students, and you usually have 4-6 classes. Grading papers, all 6000 of them each week (or so it seems), certainly is a big part of it, but does not even compare with the rest of what comes with the job. Spending 3-4 hours each night planning lessons for the coming days, weekends thinking about the lessons for the coming days. An actual teacher would be able to vouch for the fact that this is not even the tip of the iceberg and not even the appetizer course of the 7 course dinner that is teaching.
Now, having said this, this blog entry is not about all of that really hard stuff, but just a simple memory of one simple occurrence during my time that I did my student teaching at Berthoud High School in the Spring of 2003.
During the course of that winter semester, the school's boy's basketball team had a great season. Tim and Dimitri and so many others played so well and worked so hard on the court and were so much fun to have in class, among so many others whose names I no longer recall and whose faces have now faded from memory.
As a result of the post-season victories and for playing so well, the boys team was able to go to the state playoffs and play at the Pepsi Center in Denver, CO. I believe the game they made it to may have been the quarterfinals before they were sadly defeated and sent packing.
Because of the job that I had while I was student teaching (even though I had the workload of a teacher, a student teacher actually pays tuition for the experience/opportunity to student teach), I was able to borrow a pretty nice SLR camera (if you don't know what SLR is, just picture those big fancy, expensive-looking cameras that the pros use) and take on the bus. I went to the game as one of the faculty chaperons. The school was given one media pass to use for taking pictures on the floor at the Pepsi center (on the sidelines of the court while the game is happening). One student used the media pass during the first half of the game while I spent that time up in the stands taking pictures of all of the students and others that were able to ride down on the bus(es). During the second half we traded and I was able to go down on the floor and take pictures. I'm not much of a photographer but it was a digital camera and a nice enough one that really all you need to worry about with the camera is getting a good composure, the camera can handle most everything else.
I don't recall how many pictures I took, of course there were some good ones and some others that were a little bit fuzzy or otherwise were just bad pictures. After the game, I downloaded the pictures to my laptop at home. A few days later one of my cooperating teachers suggested it might be a good idea to make copies of the pictures, putting them on a cd, and giving some of those to some of the teachers at the school. I think I made 5 discs and passed them out to some that I thought would like to have them, the basketball coach, principal, a couple of others, and the yearbook teacher. I gave them the discs probably during the last week few weeks of school. A few weeks went by and I hadn't given it much thought, until I got a letter in the mail one day. That brings me to the point of this blog. I copy the text of it below:
June 9, 2003
Dear Ben Echols,
Hello! I hope this letter finds you somehow. I wanted to say thank you for the fabulous digital pictures. I got them just in time!!! Yearbook staff was finishing the yearbook on Monday, June 2nd and we were having the worst time with the State pages. (State refers to the state basketball tournament of course.) We lost the State basketball pictures and we were
trying to make the best of a horrible layout. I just happened to stop by my mailbox on the way out the door that afternoon and found your CD. I almost cried tears of joy when I read the cover. So, I downloaded the horrible, lost-cause state pages and took them home to "fix" on my laptop. I almost cried again when I opened your CD and saw the amount of pictures and quality. I stayed up until midnight fixing the pages to meet our Tuesday morning deadline. I did not even get to go through all the photos on the CD-no time. I ended up putting 4 of your photos on the state pages and a smile on the sports editor's face the next morning when I told him the incredible news. YOU SAVED THOSE PAGES!!! You have made us look good and I gave you photo credit. I wanted to say a BIG thank you and let you know you have made a permanent mark on BHS forever. Anyway. . . I hope your summer is going well and good luck!!! Again, THANKS.
Sincerely,
(JQ)
BHS Yearbook Advisor
(Initials have replaced the Yearbook Advisor's name for purposes of this blog.)
I won't say that I think often about that experience, though it does cross my mind from time to time. I just thought this would be a nice different kind of story to write and add to my blog. I won't really take credit for anything. The pictures were pretty good, but I think the pictures were only a small part of it. I can't really take credit for anything else, because it was not my idea to share them with the rest of the school. (I mean that not to be impolite in any way. I just probably would not have thought to do that myself. I think that was someone else that was inspired to tell me to share them with some of the teachers.) I'm sure I still have those pictures on a disc somewhere in one of my boxes. This isn't so much about the pictures but just one of the experiences I had during my brief experience student teaching.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Excerpt from "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland"
So I recently went to the bookstore to get some more reading material, something I'm trying to make a habit in doing (reading that is). As I was looking around, I came to a shelf and happened upon a copy of Lewis Carroll's "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland". It didn't have the usual additional story of "Through the Looking Glass", but I looked at the price tag and it was on $1.00. How can you pass up a book for a buck? It's the second such find I have come across at Hastings, my bookstore of choice in Greeley and one that I think needs more business. The last find was "The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde", and it was only $0.90. I don't really know what kinds of books to look for when I am there looking, so I typically just browse around 'til I find one that catches my attention, and if the price is appealing than I'm easily convinced to purchase it. Such was the case for both of the above books, although not all of my books are in the $1.00 range.
So, as I read "Alice's. . ." I started laughing REALLY hard when I got to a certain point in the end of the book. Being a big fan of puns, and dry humor in general, the following is one of the funniest pieces of writing I have ever read.
Backgrounder: In said part, Alice is speaking to the Gryphon and the Mock Turtle. They are sharing with Alice what their experiences were like going to school (or "lessons" as they call it). (I think it is best imagined in your best English accent you can muster, the puns seems to carry better that way.)
"So they went up to the Mock Turtle, who looked at them with large eyes full of tears, but said nothing.
"'This here young lady' said the Gryphon, 'she wants for to know your history, she do.'
"'I'l tell it her, ' said the Mock Turtle in a deep, hollow tone. 'Sit down, both of you, and don't speak a word till I've finished.'
"So they sat down, and nobody spoke for some minutes. Alice thought to herself 'I don't see how he can ever finish, if he doesn't begin.' But she waitied patiently.
"'Once, ' said the Mock Turtle at last, with a deep sigh, 'I was a real Turtle.'
"These words were followed by a very long silence, broken only by an occasional exclamation of 'Hjckrrh!' from the Gryphon, and the constant heavy sobbing of the Mock Turtle, Alice was very nearly getting up and saying 'Thank you, Sir, for your interesting story,' but she could not help thinking there must be more to come, so she sat still and said nothing.
"'When we were little,' the Mock Turtle went on at last, more calmly, though still sobbing a little now and then, "we went to school in the sea. The master was an old turtle-- we used to call him Tortoise--'
"'Why did you call him Tortoise, if he wasn't one?' Alice asked.
"'We called him Tortoise because he taught us,' said the Mock Turtle angrily. 'Really you are very dull!'
"'You ought to be ashamed of yourself for asking such a simple question,' added the Gryphon; and then they both sat silent and looked at poor Alice, who felt ready to sink into the earth. At last the Gryphon said to the Mock Turtle 'Drive on, old fellow! Don't be all day about it!', and he went on in these words:--
"'Yes, we went to school in the sea, though you mayn't believe it--'
"'I never said I didn't!' interrupted Alice.
"'You did,' said the Mock Turtle.
"'Hold your tongue!' added the Gryphon, before Alice could speak again. The Mock Turtle went on.
"'We had the best of educations-- in fact, we went to school every day--'
"'I've been to a day-school, too' said Alice. 'You needn't be so proud as all that.'
"'With extras?' asked the Mock Turtle, a little anxiously.
"'Yes,' said Alce: 'we learned French and music.'
"'And washing?' said the Mock Turtle.
Certainly not!' said Alice indignantly.
"'Ah! Then yours wasn't a really good school,' said the Mock Turtle in a tone of great relief. 'Now, at ours, they had, at the end of the bill, 'French, music, and washing-- extra.'
"'You couldn't have wanted it much,' said Alice; 'living at the bottom of the sea.'
"'I couldn't afford to learn it,' said the Mock turtle with a sigh, 'I only took the regular course.'
"'What was that?' inquired Alice.
"'Reeling and writhing, of course, to begin with,' the Mock Turtle replied: 'and then the different branches of Arithmetic-- Ambition, Distraction, Uglification, and Derision.'
"'I never heard of Uglification' Alice ventured to say. 'What is it?'
The Gryphon lifted up both its paws in surprise. 'Never heard of uglifying!' it exclaimed. 'You know what to beautify is, I suppose?'
"'Yes,' said Alice doubtfully: 'it means- to- make- anything- prettier.'
"'Well, then,' the Gryphon went on, 'if you don't know what to uglify is, you are a simpleton.'
"Alice did not feel encouraged to ask any more questions about it: so she turned to the Mock Turtle, and said, 'What else had you to learn?'
"'Well, there was Mystery,' the Mock Turtle replied, counting off the subjects on his flappers,--'Mystery, ancient and modern, with Seaography: then Drawling-- the Drawling-master was an old conger-eel, that used to come once a week: he taught us Drawling, Stretching, and Fainting in Coils.'
"'What was that like?' said Alice.
"'Well, I ca'n't show it you, myself,' the Mock Turtle said: "I'm too stiff. And the Gryphon never learnt it.'
"'Hadn't time,' said the Gryphon: 'I went to the Classical master, though. He was an old crab, he was.'
"'I never went to him,' the Mock Turtle said with a sigh. 'He taught Laughing and Grief, they used to say.'
"'So he did, so he did,' said the Gryphon, sighing in his turn; and both creatures hid their faces in their paws.
(Insert narrator's request here: Drum-roll, please! This is the best, and last, part.)
"'And how many hours a day did you do lessons?' said Alice, in a hurry to change the subject.
"Ten hours the first day,' said the Mock Turtle: 'nine the next, and so on.'
"'What a curious plan!' exclaimed Alice.
"'That's the reason their called lessons,' the Gryphon remarked: 'because they lessen from day to day.'
"This was quite a new idea to Alice, and she thought it over a little before she made her next remark. 'Then the eleventh day must have been a holiday?'
"'Of course it was,' said the Mock Turtle."
(End of section.)
I think I have not laughed so hard while reading this part as I have for any reading ever in my life. I just had to share that.
So, as I read "Alice's. . ." I started laughing REALLY hard when I got to a certain point in the end of the book. Being a big fan of puns, and dry humor in general, the following is one of the funniest pieces of writing I have ever read.
Backgrounder: In said part, Alice is speaking to the Gryphon and the Mock Turtle. They are sharing with Alice what their experiences were like going to school (or "lessons" as they call it). (I think it is best imagined in your best English accent you can muster, the puns seems to carry better that way.)
"So they went up to the Mock Turtle, who looked at them with large eyes full of tears, but said nothing.
"'This here young lady' said the Gryphon, 'she wants for to know your history, she do.'
"'I'l tell it her, ' said the Mock Turtle in a deep, hollow tone. 'Sit down, both of you, and don't speak a word till I've finished.'
"So they sat down, and nobody spoke for some minutes. Alice thought to herself 'I don't see how he can ever finish, if he doesn't begin.' But she waitied patiently.
"'Once, ' said the Mock Turtle at last, with a deep sigh, 'I was a real Turtle.'
"These words were followed by a very long silence, broken only by an occasional exclamation of 'Hjckrrh!' from the Gryphon, and the constant heavy sobbing of the Mock Turtle, Alice was very nearly getting up and saying 'Thank you, Sir, for your interesting story,' but she could not help thinking there must be more to come, so she sat still and said nothing.
"'When we were little,' the Mock Turtle went on at last, more calmly, though still sobbing a little now and then, "we went to school in the sea. The master was an old turtle-- we used to call him Tortoise--'
"'Why did you call him Tortoise, if he wasn't one?' Alice asked.
"'We called him Tortoise because he taught us,' said the Mock Turtle angrily. 'Really you are very dull!'
"'You ought to be ashamed of yourself for asking such a simple question,' added the Gryphon; and then they both sat silent and looked at poor Alice, who felt ready to sink into the earth. At last the Gryphon said to the Mock Turtle 'Drive on, old fellow! Don't be all day about it!', and he went on in these words:--
"'Yes, we went to school in the sea, though you mayn't believe it--'
"'I never said I didn't!' interrupted Alice.
"'You did,' said the Mock Turtle.
"'Hold your tongue!' added the Gryphon, before Alice could speak again. The Mock Turtle went on.
"'We had the best of educations-- in fact, we went to school every day--'
"'I've been to a day-school, too' said Alice. 'You needn't be so proud as all that.'
"'With extras?' asked the Mock Turtle, a little anxiously.
"'Yes,' said Alce: 'we learned French and music.'
"'And washing?' said the Mock Turtle.
Certainly not!' said Alice indignantly.
"'Ah! Then yours wasn't a really good school,' said the Mock Turtle in a tone of great relief. 'Now, at ours, they had, at the end of the bill, 'French, music, and washing-- extra.'
"'You couldn't have wanted it much,' said Alice; 'living at the bottom of the sea.'
"'I couldn't afford to learn it,' said the Mock turtle with a sigh, 'I only took the regular course.'
"'What was that?' inquired Alice.
"'Reeling and writhing, of course, to begin with,' the Mock Turtle replied: 'and then the different branches of Arithmetic-- Ambition, Distraction, Uglification, and Derision.'
"'I never heard of Uglification' Alice ventured to say. 'What is it?'
The Gryphon lifted up both its paws in surprise. 'Never heard of uglifying!' it exclaimed. 'You know what to beautify is, I suppose?'
"'Yes,' said Alice doubtfully: 'it means- to- make- anything- prettier.'
"'Well, then,' the Gryphon went on, 'if you don't know what to uglify is, you are a simpleton.'
"Alice did not feel encouraged to ask any more questions about it: so she turned to the Mock Turtle, and said, 'What else had you to learn?'
"'Well, there was Mystery,' the Mock Turtle replied, counting off the subjects on his flappers,--'Mystery, ancient and modern, with Seaography: then Drawling-- the Drawling-master was an old conger-eel, that used to come once a week: he taught us Drawling, Stretching, and Fainting in Coils.'
"'What was that like?' said Alice.
"'Well, I ca'n't show it you, myself,' the Mock Turtle said: "I'm too stiff. And the Gryphon never learnt it.'
"'Hadn't time,' said the Gryphon: 'I went to the Classical master, though. He was an old crab, he was.'
"'I never went to him,' the Mock Turtle said with a sigh. 'He taught Laughing and Grief, they used to say.'
"'So he did, so he did,' said the Gryphon, sighing in his turn; and both creatures hid their faces in their paws.
(Insert narrator's request here: Drum-roll, please! This is the best, and last, part.)
"'And how many hours a day did you do lessons?' said Alice, in a hurry to change the subject.
"Ten hours the first day,' said the Mock Turtle: 'nine the next, and so on.'
"'What a curious plan!' exclaimed Alice.
"'That's the reason their called lessons,' the Gryphon remarked: 'because they lessen from day to day.'
"This was quite a new idea to Alice, and she thought it over a little before she made her next remark. 'Then the eleventh day must have been a holiday?'
"'Of course it was,' said the Mock Turtle."
(End of section.)
I think I have not laughed so hard while reading this part as I have for any reading ever in my life. I just had to share that.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Good For A Laugh At Least. . .
It's been a little while since I've posted an entry on here and in writing to a friend thought I might recount a fairly recent experience I had. I don't often speak publicly, or even privately for that matter, about my dating life and experiences I have had. Perhaps this experience will explain why, but then again maybe it will just serve as a good laugh for those who read it.
Background:
Over the past few years, I have been attending events (dances, parties, gatherings of various sorts) put on by and for a fairly large group of single adults in the Denver and Northern Colorado area. Most people that thing of events for "single adults" probably will think "a place to meet people to date" should there be people there of an even remotely attractive nature. (Speaking generically of course.) While this is one of the purposes of said events, sometimes I find myself going to these activities not in the hope of "finding someone", but rather just because it is something to do rather than sitting at home alone on a Friday night or other awkward occasion.
This group of single adults is split up into two categories, primarily by age. In the LDS (aka "Mormon") culture, there are two larger groups of single adults. First, the "Young Single Adults" are those between the ages of 18 and 30 years old. The older single adults, most commonly known just as the "Single Adults" are those ages 30 and older and literally can include any single adults as old as 80-90 years old if there were any interested at those ages. For purposes of this story, we reference the "Single Adults", which can also be categorically divided into two groups, not so much as separate groups, but rather one being a sub-category of the other, at least partly so. Where the Single Adults refers to those in the ages of 30 and older, there is a great variation in the life experiences of everyone involved. This has led to a smaller group to be organized at least on an unofficial but recognized level. Some of us in the younger end of the spectrum are a little bit, shall we say, uncomfortable sometimes being around some of those that are well old(er). A sub-category of the Single Adults has been created and is known amongst ourselves at least as the "Middle Singles", ranging in age from 30ish to age 45, and adhering nearly exclusively to these ages. The primary reason for this distinction, at least from where I see it, is because of the differences between someone that is 30-40 years old compared to someone that is 70. Besides the obvious differences in hair color, the younger ones are obviously at a different stage in life than those in the older age range, and yes I think we can even say the "old" ones because comparatively they are.
I will not begin to attempt to explain all that goes on with the Single Adults, except that we get together on many occasions to have dances, firesides (for those unfamiliar with the term "fireside", just think large group discussion sort of), barbecues, game nights, and, well, pretty much any American thing that most anyone enjoys doing.
Even though I consider myself a pretty wretched dancer, I do enjoy dancing quite a lot so when the opportunity presents itself, I take the opportunity to "get my groove on". (Please save yourself and don't attempt to visualize that, just trust me.)
Each year there is generally a New Years Eve dance to celebrating the outgoing and incoming years. Dec 31, 2009 through Jan 1, 2010 was no exception. Not wanting to spend the night home alone, I went to the dance down in Denver, although to be quite honest I really did not feel all that much like dancing that night. I just didn't want to be at home alone.
The New Years Eve dance was scheduled to start around 8:30-9:00pm and go until sometime after we rang in the new year (usually going until 12:30-1:00am more or less). I left home to go to the dance and arrived around 9:15. As there usually are, there were probably 75-100 people there when I arrived. Having been to a few of these dances, I was not going to be terribly surprised to show up and see only a handful of people actually dancing there. In this case, it was far worse than normal, however, as I showed up and found that literally there were only what seemed like 5-10 people dancing.
This particular night I was really not very interested in dancing so much as just getting out of the house. (Quite often I go and do feel like dancing, but eventually warm up to it when the right style of music starts to play.) I went in and stood off to the side for a few minutes, probably mostly waiting to see if anyone would come that I already knew. This sometimes helps with the motivation to dance, particularly if it's someone of the nice-looking variety.
Here is where the story, and purpose of this blog entry, comes into play.
After standing off to the side for a few minutes (probably 10-15 minutes), a woman approached me who I have to admit must be at least 60 years old (no exaggeration). She immediately says to me, "You know I could give you a ticket for standing there like that and not dancing." Oh please, like that's gonna get me out there dancing when I really don't feel like it. I respond, "yeah, well good luck trying to enforce it." What I SHOULD have done was walk out at that moment and go somewhere else, but being the polite person that I am (and perhaps should not be so much) I decided to humor her a little bit. She convinced me to dance with her once, then while dancing asked me, "Will you dance with me one more time tonight?" or at least something VERY close to that effect. (I'm trying to forget this as best I can and you will see why in the end.)
Somehow that first song turned into 2-3 songs, was not particularly enjoyable on my part, but I tolerated it as best I could. Finally I got away and was able to find a group of younger people quite a bit closer to my age than the aforementioned woman (who I will also advise was NOT the most attractive person in the place, but I will leave it at that lest I come across as being more spiteful than how most know me).
I was able to evade said person for a good couple of hours, but alas eventually she found me and trapped me into another song. Ugh!!! Does she not realize how uncomfortable she's making me feel? I knew she was not just another person trying to be nice when she started trying to introduce me to her other old friends. (I normally would not refer to someone as being old when they are 60 years old, but I do so here to emphasize intentionally that compared to me, old she definitely was.) It started with "Oh, have you met so and so? Let me introduce you to her." Then, she dragged me over to introduce me to one of her friends, who was just as old as she was, if not more so. Worse than this, her friend than tried getting me to dance with her. Okay, enough of this, I've got to get out of here fast. As soon as her friend asked, "Well, do you want to dance with me?" I knew I had to come up with something.
Now, I am not one to TRY and get out of uncomfortable situations very often, I can usually tolerate just about anything, but this was one time when I really was UNcomfortable, and even down-right scared, being around them. Once the question was asked, I plainly stated, "Actually, I was just going to go out and use the restroom." Any women reading this, don't pretend like you have never had to do this with any guys. I know there has to be someone that has done the same thing, if even to me personally. That was my chance to get out of there. I walked out and intentionally walked around the building to come in another way so as to get away from them. The rest of the evening was spent doing all I could to avoid them. Terrible I know, but it just goes to show just how scary they were.
By the time I came back in, I was able to make it back to the same group of younger people that I had previously attempted to mingle with a little bit. I stood as near as I could to any 3-5 of them as I could, hoping it would discourage any of those older women to try anything again. Luckily, one person, who I shall here call "Tami", came to my rescue and asked me to dance when a slow song started. I promptly thanked her for coming to my rescue and, without mentioning any names to her, very briefly told her of my then very recent plight. It was nice to dance with Tami and talk casually, not just for her having rescued me but because she was just nice to talk to.
Now, for anyone that might be thinking, "Ooh, Ben, this Tami person seems nice. is there something going on there?" Stop that thought there. I will simply say that I go to dances to dance, not to "meet someone". Just have to add that. There are some stories I won't tell, even here with names disguised.
So that was the awkward experience. I can now say that I understand, at least on some level, the anguish some of my sisters had to go through going to some of these same "Single Adult" activities, before they were fortunate and blessed to find their soul mates and get married. I actually knew of one of those old men that used to try "hitting on" one of my sisters, and I did my best whenever possible to save her from that but couldn't always do it. Now, hopefully I don't have to endure that experience any more, because I don't know how I will react if I do. I just about shudder at the thought of it.
Background:
Over the past few years, I have been attending events (dances, parties, gatherings of various sorts) put on by and for a fairly large group of single adults in the Denver and Northern Colorado area. Most people that thing of events for "single adults" probably will think "a place to meet people to date" should there be people there of an even remotely attractive nature. (Speaking generically of course.) While this is one of the purposes of said events, sometimes I find myself going to these activities not in the hope of "finding someone", but rather just because it is something to do rather than sitting at home alone on a Friday night or other awkward occasion.
This group of single adults is split up into two categories, primarily by age. In the LDS (aka "Mormon") culture, there are two larger groups of single adults. First, the "Young Single Adults" are those between the ages of 18 and 30 years old. The older single adults, most commonly known just as the "Single Adults" are those ages 30 and older and literally can include any single adults as old as 80-90 years old if there were any interested at those ages. For purposes of this story, we reference the "Single Adults", which can also be categorically divided into two groups, not so much as separate groups, but rather one being a sub-category of the other, at least partly so. Where the Single Adults refers to those in the ages of 30 and older, there is a great variation in the life experiences of everyone involved. This has led to a smaller group to be organized at least on an unofficial but recognized level. Some of us in the younger end of the spectrum are a little bit, shall we say, uncomfortable sometimes being around some of those that are well old(er). A sub-category of the Single Adults has been created and is known amongst ourselves at least as the "Middle Singles", ranging in age from 30ish to age 45, and adhering nearly exclusively to these ages. The primary reason for this distinction, at least from where I see it, is because of the differences between someone that is 30-40 years old compared to someone that is 70. Besides the obvious differences in hair color, the younger ones are obviously at a different stage in life than those in the older age range, and yes I think we can even say the "old" ones because comparatively they are.
I will not begin to attempt to explain all that goes on with the Single Adults, except that we get together on many occasions to have dances, firesides (for those unfamiliar with the term "fireside", just think large group discussion sort of), barbecues, game nights, and, well, pretty much any American thing that most anyone enjoys doing.
Even though I consider myself a pretty wretched dancer, I do enjoy dancing quite a lot so when the opportunity presents itself, I take the opportunity to "get my groove on". (Please save yourself and don't attempt to visualize that, just trust me.)
Each year there is generally a New Years Eve dance to celebrating the outgoing and incoming years. Dec 31, 2009 through Jan 1, 2010 was no exception. Not wanting to spend the night home alone, I went to the dance down in Denver, although to be quite honest I really did not feel all that much like dancing that night. I just didn't want to be at home alone.
The New Years Eve dance was scheduled to start around 8:30-9:00pm and go until sometime after we rang in the new year (usually going until 12:30-1:00am more or less). I left home to go to the dance and arrived around 9:15. As there usually are, there were probably 75-100 people there when I arrived. Having been to a few of these dances, I was not going to be terribly surprised to show up and see only a handful of people actually dancing there. In this case, it was far worse than normal, however, as I showed up and found that literally there were only what seemed like 5-10 people dancing.
This particular night I was really not very interested in dancing so much as just getting out of the house. (Quite often I go and do feel like dancing, but eventually warm up to it when the right style of music starts to play.) I went in and stood off to the side for a few minutes, probably mostly waiting to see if anyone would come that I already knew. This sometimes helps with the motivation to dance, particularly if it's someone of the nice-looking variety.
Here is where the story, and purpose of this blog entry, comes into play.
After standing off to the side for a few minutes (probably 10-15 minutes), a woman approached me who I have to admit must be at least 60 years old (no exaggeration). She immediately says to me, "You know I could give you a ticket for standing there like that and not dancing." Oh please, like that's gonna get me out there dancing when I really don't feel like it. I respond, "yeah, well good luck trying to enforce it." What I SHOULD have done was walk out at that moment and go somewhere else, but being the polite person that I am (and perhaps should not be so much) I decided to humor her a little bit. She convinced me to dance with her once, then while dancing asked me, "Will you dance with me one more time tonight?" or at least something VERY close to that effect. (I'm trying to forget this as best I can and you will see why in the end.)
Somehow that first song turned into 2-3 songs, was not particularly enjoyable on my part, but I tolerated it as best I could. Finally I got away and was able to find a group of younger people quite a bit closer to my age than the aforementioned woman (who I will also advise was NOT the most attractive person in the place, but I will leave it at that lest I come across as being more spiteful than how most know me).
I was able to evade said person for a good couple of hours, but alas eventually she found me and trapped me into another song. Ugh!!! Does she not realize how uncomfortable she's making me feel? I knew she was not just another person trying to be nice when she started trying to introduce me to her other old friends. (I normally would not refer to someone as being old when they are 60 years old, but I do so here to emphasize intentionally that compared to me, old she definitely was.) It started with "Oh, have you met so and so? Let me introduce you to her." Then, she dragged me over to introduce me to one of her friends, who was just as old as she was, if not more so. Worse than this, her friend than tried getting me to dance with her. Okay, enough of this, I've got to get out of here fast. As soon as her friend asked, "Well, do you want to dance with me?" I knew I had to come up with something.
Now, I am not one to TRY and get out of uncomfortable situations very often, I can usually tolerate just about anything, but this was one time when I really was UNcomfortable, and even down-right scared, being around them. Once the question was asked, I plainly stated, "Actually, I was just going to go out and use the restroom." Any women reading this, don't pretend like you have never had to do this with any guys. I know there has to be someone that has done the same thing, if even to me personally. That was my chance to get out of there. I walked out and intentionally walked around the building to come in another way so as to get away from them. The rest of the evening was spent doing all I could to avoid them. Terrible I know, but it just goes to show just how scary they were.
By the time I came back in, I was able to make it back to the same group of younger people that I had previously attempted to mingle with a little bit. I stood as near as I could to any 3-5 of them as I could, hoping it would discourage any of those older women to try anything again. Luckily, one person, who I shall here call "Tami", came to my rescue and asked me to dance when a slow song started. I promptly thanked her for coming to my rescue and, without mentioning any names to her, very briefly told her of my then very recent plight. It was nice to dance with Tami and talk casually, not just for her having rescued me but because she was just nice to talk to.
Now, for anyone that might be thinking, "Ooh, Ben, this Tami person seems nice. is there something going on there?" Stop that thought there. I will simply say that I go to dances to dance, not to "meet someone". Just have to add that. There are some stories I won't tell, even here with names disguised.
So that was the awkward experience. I can now say that I understand, at least on some level, the anguish some of my sisters had to go through going to some of these same "Single Adult" activities, before they were fortunate and blessed to find their soul mates and get married. I actually knew of one of those old men that used to try "hitting on" one of my sisters, and I did my best whenever possible to save her from that but couldn't always do it. Now, hopefully I don't have to endure that experience any more, because I don't know how I will react if I do. I just about shudder at the thought of it.
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