In Which I see Cherry Blossoms

It's annual cherry blossom festival time! I went on Saturday and spent 3 hours walking around, taking pictures, and enjoying the sunshine. It was a bit chilly, but pleasant. The blossoms are just starting to open, but they were really pretty. It was also the annual Kite Festival at the Washington Monument on Saturday. Hundreds of people were there flying kites.

In Which I See More Butts

Spring has sprung in northern Virginia. I was out for a walk around the neighborhood the other day, enjoying the sunshine, the warmth, and getting some exercise. I passed by the local basketball court, and noticed several teenage boys playing basketball with their jeans hanging below their butts, showing off brightly colored plaid boxer shorts. It reminds me of a PBS special I once saw about this species of baboon whose heinies turn bright red (or was it blue?) when signaling they are ready to mate.

When I am rich, I will invest in suspenders that say "I am a big baboon", and boys without belts will have to wear them as penalty for exposing their underwear. Girls who show their undies will have corresponding potato sacks to wear over their clothes.

In Which I Am Outraged

I found out today that in North Carolina, it is legal to spank children in school. It is also legal in 19 other states. I found that to be rather appalling. In New York, a teacher would be hauled to court in handcuffs for daring to spank a child, and then summarily fired, if the offense were proven. I was raised and educated to believe that teachers do not lay a hand on a child. My parents never spanked us (at least, not that I remember, so it must not have been often if it did happen), and we turned out ok. None of us have ever been arrested, or suspended from school, and we all hold down jobs and are generally respectable (except when one of us wants to cook at 1am and goes to Wegman's in her pajamas). (I only did that once.) (Maybe twice.)

I am shocked. What is it about the South that they need to spank children in school to get them to behave? So teachers not learn basic classroom management? Is there no understanding of behavioral psychology? Do teachers in North Carolina not understand the saying, "You have to earn respect to get respect"? You can't smack around a student and make a truly lasting change in behavior. That's just not how it works. Read the journals. For goodness sake, just read any parenting magazine!

They don't want respect, though. I know this from visiting many classrooms. Teachers in the South want compliance: mindless drones to do what they are told. Apparently school isn't to educate children; it's to get them to comply. We're not raising thinking human beings; we're raising the Borg. Thank goodness schools in North Carolina, by federal law, can't mandate psychotropic drugs for students. There would be an entire generation of mindless North Carolinian drones.

The point being: North Carolina is currently considering outlawing spanking children with disabilities in school. DUH!!!!!! I'm pretty sure that spanking a child with an emotional disability is not going to get that child to stop swearing at the teacher. I'm 100% sure it won't get a child with autism to stop misbehaving. I'm also sure it won't get a child who can't read to do his homework, or a hyperactive child to sit still. I truly had no idea spanking in school was still a legal punishment anywhere in the civilized world. I am newly awakened to incomprehensible depths of stupidity.

In Which I am An Independent Woman

I am now an independent woman. I learned how to change the taillights in my car. Ok, I did get a little help. My truck-driver neighbor noticed that my taillight was out this afternoon, and he offered to help me change it. It turns out to be very simple. There's a little screw that comes off in the trunk, and then the light bulbs pull out the back.

I even went to the auto parts store to buy new bulbs, all by myself (once my neighbor told me where the store is). I stood around the lights aisle looking all blond and pathetic, and about 3 seconds later, a really good-looking Latino guy helped me find the lights I needed. (Aside: going blond with the hair color has been worth every penny, even though I could fly to NYC and back for what it cost.)

I successfully changed the light bulb in the parking lot of the store. I am so impressed with my mechanical skills! Next thing you know, I'll be changing my own tires too, and telling the mechanic that the clunking sound in my engine is from the serpentine belt coming loose. Um, well, truthfully, I will be checking first with my neighbor, so he can tell me what is wrong with my car, so I can impress the mechanic with my smart-blonde automotive skills, so I won't get ripped off.

In Which Elvis is Sighted

I went to the National Portrait Gallery this weekend. I needed to get some culture into me, after being snowed in for days on end. It is kind of fun to walk around and see portraits and busts of famous people, like Louisa May Alcott, Edgar Allen Poe, President Lincoln, John Brown, Enrico Caruso, the Marquis de Lafayette, and Queen Elizabeth. There was a portrait of Yo-Yo Ma, too, who my mother once saw in the basement diner at Eastman School of Music, eating an ice-cream. He laughed when he saw her burdened down with children, music, a violin, a cello, and a small "cello chair" so my little brother's feet could touch the floor when he played.

To return to topic, the highlight of the museum, for me, was the exhibit of Elvises (say that five times fast in a whispery voice, and it's like being transformed into Gollum from The Lord of the Rings : "Elvises, my precioussss, there is nasty Elvises.") There were portraits of Elvis painted after he died. There was a Where's Elvis book, along the lines of Where's Waldo. The most memorable item was beyond doubt the 3-foot bust of Elvis as Julius Caesar. Painted gold. Wearing a laurel crown. With guitars on his faux-Roman armor. Can you picture Elvis standing on the steps of the Forum, orating, "Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears"? It's a farce waiting to happen. Now that I think of it, I'm pretty sure I've seen that on The Muppet Show.

In Which I Have a Snow Day. Again.

Northern Virginia is still shut down. No school, for the 12th straight day. Ridiculous. And why is there no school? Because the bus stops still have too much snow and drivers can't see the children. In New York, drivers know enough to slow down at corners and not run over small moving things wearing colorful coats and backpacks. Apparently Virginia drivers can't be trusted to use such common sense. Not surprising, really, judging by their driving skills when it is not snowy. I have worked a grand total of 3 days in February. It felt a little odd to be getting a paycheck on the 15th of this month when I hadn't done anything to earn it. Not that I'm complaining about a little vacation time, but this really is becoming a joke.

In Which I Dig Out My Car

Three neighbors and I spent 3 hours digging out two cars. By the end, there were 5 neighbors shoveling, one with a broken arm helping brush off snow, and an elderly woman offering hot chocolate every 10 minutes. It was like a party. Fortunately, today is sunny, so once we got the cars dug out, the sun melted a lot of the remaining icy bits. Here are some pictures of my car. The piles of snow around my car are NOT from the snow plows, believe it or not. It's the snow that landed between cars during the storm, or blew up against it from the wind. There are a couple man-made mountains in the background, because we did have to put the snow somewhere, after all.