When All Else Fails, Play Dead

The title is not my own. I wish I could claim credit, but one of my favorite TV characters belongs to a lodge whose motto is "Quando Omni Flunkus Moritati," loosely translated at "when all else fails, play dead." Somehow that seemed to work this week, quite well I might add.

So, here goes. We were at the airport in Doha, ready to go to security to get all of our stuff converted into radioactive waste, doing our usual cruising past the guy standing there with the job of telling people their carry-on bags are too heavy, too big, too smelly, too ugly, too pretty, too many or too whatever else he can come up with. Normally this is a simple walk-by with a nice smile and a wave, but this guy meant business that evening. He made me weigh my carry-on bag, only to find it to be one kilogram heavy. My wife's bag -- same fate. So thinking quickly I told him, "No problem, I'll just put my laptop in my backpack." Oh, no you don't mister. You do and you'll have two bags of carry-on and you're only allotted one in economy. Oops.

Back to the drawing board. We slunk on back to the other side of a pillar to figure out what we were going to discard. Laptop? No. Other laptop? No. Medical device? No. And no time to run home to drop a backpack. What ever shall we do? Well, we did have some snack foods we packed for the trip, not knowing how readily safe food would be available in Bangkok in the touristy areas. I suppose we could each eat a pound of dried apricots and a half pound of roasted cashews. Not sure that I'm interested in being quite that regular that fast though, especially heading into the land of awesome curries and hot peppers. I just don't think my digestive tract would forgive me if I dropped two bombs like that in such a short period of time. I think they call that an appetite for destruction.

Now, mind you this has taken us mere minutes to tear all of our stuff apart and debate which piece would stay and which would become the bait to start an all-out mad scramble in the airport among the indigenous population. Then, much to our delight we noticed that the aforementioned carry-on bag Deputy Fife abandoned his post and left it in the hands of the ever capable and newly deputized Gomer Pyle. Now, not to come off as being overly opportunistic, but in the interest of full disclosure, I have to admit that a thought occurred to both of us. We'd both like to claim credit for initializing the thought, although I'm pretty certain that simultaneous mental spontaneity is a real and documentable phenomenon, but to whomever the credit goes suffice it to say that it just worked. I call it a stroke of genius, a merging of inspiration and opportunity, a bright and shiny moment in the lives of the downtrodden to rise up and take command of a bad situation.

And we did just that. We seized the moment, threw our stuff back into our bags, one kilo too heavy or not, and strode confidently toward the new smiling and friendlier looking security guy who didn't miss a beat in waving us on through toward the paradise that awaited us in the security scanner lines.

Yes, we were through. We had challenged fate and we had won. When all else failed, we played dead and waited for the circling vulture to lose interest in the too-large pile of carrion. In that one fleeting moment I truly believe that I made all of the members of the Possum Lodge proud. They are my kindred spirits now. My friends, with conviction like none other I stand with my hands raised in front of my chest and my fingers curled under like a nocturnal scavenger and proclaim "Quando Omni Flunkus Moritati."

Ain't Got No Home

Some years back Clarence "Frogman" Henry did a song entitled Ain't Got No Home. Lyrics began something like this:

I ain't got no home
No place to roam
I ain't got a home
No place to roam
I'm a lonely boy
I ain't got a home

I'm getting to know how the Frogman felt. We just got the notification about a week or two ago that we were moving to new accommodations, or at least new to us. Then this week we found out that we have a matter of days to pack our stuff to be ready to move to the new place.

Now not that I mind being sent to a new villa. In fact, I'm grateful for our school providing great housing. We're not going that far away from our current location, less than a mile as the crow flies. The new place is slightly smaller than the current one, but no big deal since we don't use all of this one anyway.

No, the reason Frogman and I see eye-to-eye is because this will be our third move in the last three years. Packed up, unpacked; packed up, unpacked; packed up again. On the plus side, this is the shortest move we've ever made. When we first got married and had an apartment we lived in it for two years. Then we moved about five miles to our first house. From there, five years later we moved about 20 miles to our second house. Then we made the first of our big moves: nearly 7000 miles to Qatar. Since then, a couple of miles from our flat to the villa last year and now this one. The way I see it the next time we move should be from the new place to the one next to it. Then we'll just move from one room to another.

We are moving from this place:



But definitely not moving into this:



No it's definitely somewhere in between. However, timing is everything and considering we leave on Tuesday night for another location several thousand miles away, time is of the essence in getting things packed. Come to think of it, what am I doing writing this instead of packing? Let's crank up a little Frogman and get to work.

Something Lost in Translation

Strange as it may sound, I believe I speak about five different languages now, and only one of them is actually a non-English language. I've found so many occasions where I've been given strange looks, or at least quizzical replies on Facebook, to things I've said using different terminology than is expected.

I suppose the most interesting aspect of this new revelation is how people who are educated and actually maintain professional careers (those that don't involve name tags and hairnets) can give blank stares at words that I take for granted. I've been left dumbfounded by inquiries and the complete meltdown that happens in a conversation when a word that I've integrated into my vernacular catches someone completely off guard. I get this expression quite a bit:



Of course it's not just these situations that result in peculiar looks. Periodically I find that I've lapsed into the dialect from the mother country. Having grown up in the southwestern part of Virginia, nearly in the heart of Appalachia, I have some colloquialisms that are not widely known to the world. When home, it's like we have our own little subset of the English language that we all understand. At some point most of us have seen Jeff Foxworthy and his "y'auntoo" and "aieght" monologue. There's a real truth in his words. On those occasions where I adopt the mother tongue I give my roots away, and the conversation becomes focused on explaining what on earth I just said. Ironically those can be some of the most exhilarating conversations when you get involved in a regional dialect comparison with someone else.

Then there are the adopted terms that come from living in a major multicultural environment. I am constantly incorporating terms from around the world into my vocabulary. Seems the main ones come from Australia and New Zealand. I'm not sure I entirely understand how they arrive at some of the expressions they use. I think it may have to do with the rush of blood to the head from being upside down all the time. I just know that "cheers" and "no worries" are now embedded in my vernacular. Maybe if I hang upside down from the garment bar in the closet for a while I'll cure myself.

Regardless of the reasons for why we communicate the way we do, what is very cool is that we are able to overcome the boundaries of spoken and written language to share life's experiences. Otherwise we run the risk of assuming the aforementioned blank stares (see picture posted above) on more occasions that we should.

I Second That Emotion...

I remember as a kid hearing Smokey sing it and how much I enjoyed his smooth soulful voice. He celebrated a birthday last month and I found myself perusing a message board where many people of all ages were wishing him a happy birthday. At 70 years old Smokey is still as smooth as he ever was. I suppose it's my love for his music that has led me to use one of his songs as the title for this post, not so much because I'm going through one of those "If you want to give me kisses sweet" moments, that will remain between my wife and I, but because of the range of emotions that the last week has brought. OK, so I stretched it just a bit to get it to work. Get over it.

Anyway, as I was saying -- the last week has come and gone and brought with it a wide range of emotions and it's just now dawning on me how that has come to pass. I'm amazed at how well we as human beings cope with such a wide array of experiences in such a short time, and even more so that we don't just absolutely lose it and go tearing through the grocery store throwing jars of pickles at the dairy cooler. Not that it wouldn't be good entertainment in and of itself, but that does seem to violate some social norms that are seriously taboo to contravene. So in the interest of maintaining my place among those free to aimlessly wander the streets of this city whenever I feel like it I've exercised a certain restraint and I've kept that particular emotional response in check. Instead I find other outlets to defray the weirdness that life seems so intent upon depositing in my corner of reality. I guess I sort of know how it would feel to have a nice shiny car that I just finished washing only to have an entire flight of eagles jettison excess weight during a flyover.

I'm thinking back to last weekend when I was pondering some future endeavors, including looking to continue my education. There was a real sense of excitement and some trepidation at the same time. Lots of work, plenty to get done in anticipation of being accepted into the program (I hope!!!) and thinking about being back into the college mode for another three years after eight years out of school.

Then we received some news that hit us like the proverbial ton of dog fur. I only use that analogy because I think I've collected enough recently to reach the requisite quantity. I'm still kind of reeling from what has transpired in my family in another part of the world. Not so much that I'm struggling with anything, but more that some news came down the line that was totally unexpected, on the heels of similarly surprising news from the same source only weeks prior. So within a matter of a couple of days I went from excited, cautiously optimistic, and a bit apprehensive to shocked. And yet I have persevered.

Work elicits various emotions as well, ranging from joy to frustration, to occasionally outright anger. I can say honestly that all of those reared their heads this week. I love working with my students, and I hope that my enthusiasm is evident each time they come into class and engage in a learning experience. At the same time, other responsibilities come calling at what seem like the most inopportune moments. And as living in a community that revolves largely around the school I find that everyone's business is everyone's business. Mine is no different, but when I find out things that affect me through the grapevine I do get a bit frustrated and occasionally angry. Let's just say that this week there were some seriously nervous gherkins in Doha.

Finally as the week closed I went to sit for my GRE. Driving in Doha can be nerve wracking anyway, much less to follow up a drive through town with an expensive test upon which your entire future hinges. OK, maybe it's not quite that monumental a test, but blowing two bills on it to not do well didn't exactly peg very high on my list of "gotta do" things for the week. The test itself was not really that bad although I'm still awaiting the final results. The main thing is I really don't want to experience that particular set of emotions again for some time.

The week was not entirely filled with stressful emotions. There were the great laughs and the levity that happens when among friends having a nice dinner and some TV. No tragedies in the truest sense, although needing the AC in our vehicle fixed in a country where temps are already approaching triple digits might constitute something close. Nothing that will put me on an airplane heading somewhere for an emergency, when life and death hangs in the balance. No, just a week of ups and downs.

So here I am, back at square one ready to confront another week almost certain to be full of emotions. Amazingly enough it will be another emotional roller coaster that I will survive, in all likelihood with those dill spears comfortably resting on the shelf and the sour cream as safe as if it were still in the cow. A week with predominantly edifying emotions will leave me content at week's end. But there are those weeks when we look back with a "can't believe I survived" sentiment. And in that case I don't want no part.

Here's to the start of a good week.

Never Miss an Opportunity to Laugh

If there's one thing in this world that I've learned it is that humor goes a long way toward offsetting the negative things we encounter. Case and point, yesterday evening we were out and about driving through Doha, en route to a friend's house for dinner, and we made a stop off at the Hyatt Plaza to check on Crystal's watch (may it rest in pieces) that we'd sent out for repair. Apparently sometimes I really learn slowly as I neglected to take the Friday night traffic into account. The roads were slammed and the parking lots were like a perpetual game of bumper cars. Ever played chicken with a half-cocked Arab in a Toyota Land Cruiser and nothing to lose? Makes gridlock on the DC Beltway look like a leisurely drive through the country. It had me seriously considering trading in my Land Rover for an Army surplus M1 Abrams. My brother is in the Army so I'm thinking that with a little gentle persuasion I might be able to get him to Klinger one to me (remember the episode of M*A*S*H when Klinger was mailing the jeep home piece by piece?)

Anyway, let's just say for the sake of keeping this G-rated that I was learning the art of controlling one's temper in the face of adverse driving conditions. Fortunately we did make our destination and were blessed with great company, good food and some American Idol.

Now, back to that humor thing. When we did finally get home last night I checked my Youtube channel to see if the video I'd uploaded earlier in the day was finally posting on my web site. I had uploaded it and an hour later my channel was still not showing it on the site, even though I could go directly to the channel and see it. So, with the relief at seeing it in place I enjoyed the good laugh that the video brought with it. Let's just say there's nothing like dogs placed in a strange environment while wearing non-standard attire to cause one to forget how nasty the local traffic is and enjoy a good laugh. Thank God for giving us a sense of humor.

The Joy of a Room Full of Teenage Roboticists

There's a lot that one can say about coaching a team, but most of the things that might be said don't really apply to a robotics team. I'm recalling the times I was involved in coaching sports, and those times really don't quite compare to what goes on in our team meetings.

I enter as exhibit 1 the remarkable difference in humor among athletes and techno-geeks. Athlete humor when I was growing up involved Ben-Gay placed in strategic locations inside someone's underwear. Humor with these guys involves making a blooper reel from team work sessions or hijacking someone's unattended login on the computer to send emails home. Athletes snap towels at each other in the showers after practice. Techno-geeks throw foam balls across the room hoping, usually against hope, to land the ball somewhere remotely near the target. I periodically wonder why they even bother throwing rather than constructing an apparatus that could launch the ball with a greater degree of accuracy. However, I dare not suggest that lest the unleash a barrage reminiscent of the artillery fire at Iwo Jima.

When in doubt about what is truly important one only need listen to a room full of geeks to figure out that these things are what matter: food, computer games, and discovering the secret that allows for faster-than-light travel. It's not much of a stretch to think that most people can figure out where the similarities between athletes and brain-sport competitors end. But that's not all bad. In fact, in a team meeting earlier this week the topic of how sci-fi can drive innovation came up and it was as if someone had turned on a heavenly light and angelic voices in the room. Suddenly it was as if all was right in the world and robots and man would live as one in peace and harmony -- like cats and dogs.

Fortunately that was the point at where the really off the wall thinking ended and they progressed to discussions about robotic dump trucks and cranes. Not as exciting as the aforementioned robotopia, but certainly not as other worldly either. Anyway, this year's competition season is under way and looking much better than last year. A taste of victory has whet the appetites of these guys and they are gelling like a real team. We've gotten more done in three team meetings this week than we did in three weeks last year.

Now that's not to say that it will all continue to go so well. There may be days when the air will be filled with nerf ordnance, but even those are well worth enduring to spend time with a great bunch of kids.

A New Venture

OK, here goes. For some time now I have used WordPress for blogging, but I have found it to be clunky and laborious. So I checked out Blogger and am much more satisfied with the overall look of it. Thus I'll be spending more of my blogging time here.

Anyway, having spent a little time recently out of the country in India at a conference I'm pretty excited to be back on in Qatar and ready to get to work with some of the things I picked up. Really found the experience to be invaluable, with some great people leading our workshop. The whole idea of a flat classroom is quite appealing to me. It's high time that we are involving our students in the overall teaching strategies discussion. They are major stakeholders and have quite a lot to offer when their minds are pointed in the right direction, and they are learning in a much different fashion than my generation did. I was inspired by the forward and "why not" attitude that the students in attendance at the conference exhibited. I am now working to adjust my thinking similarly and am actively looking for better ways to enhance the learning experiences I am providing.

It's not so much that I see myself needing to be an entertainer, and in fact that's not what education is all about. There can be plenty of work involved in it. Still just because you are busy working doesn't mean you aren't enjoying yourself. Education can be both hard and fun, and I would challenge my fellow teachers to aspire to the same goal of providing challenging and rewarding educational experiences that will build in our kids the skills they will need for the 21st century.