|
I just found FreeTranslation.com (thanks to DrunkenLosers.com), and repeated one of the drunken loser experiments. I took the math question below, translated it into German, then back into English. Here's what I got: Do if you a halfpint of half and half have, and you pour half therefrom from, which is the sterns left? For real-world translation gaffs, try Engrish.com (courtesy of Mike) *
Jeff's math question of the day: If you have a halfpint of Half and Half, and you pour half of it out, what the heck is left? * New Iberia public art #2 Here's a painting on the wall of the house across the street from my house. You can see another view of the same house in a blog I did about narcissus a week or so ago. The owners recently re-painted in a painted-lady color scheme and hired an artist to paint murals on the house... yes, on the house. It was an interesting process to watch. Not the artwork, the house painting! They changed their minds about the color scheme, often after an entire section had been painted, changing from one radical collection of hues to another. At one point, the front of the house had been painted, then adorned with a mural of egrets and parrots, then painted over again! Main Street is a one-way street, and the mural faces opposite the flow of traffic, so you can only see this picture while on foot. But that doesn't make it a hidden treasure, since the house gets plenty of attention from tourists walking the street. It's a highly photographed house. I've seen people set up tripods in front of my house to photograph it (alas, my own home is universally ignored by tourists. I refuse to compete). According to rumor, the scene depicts a steamboat which was owned by the homeowner's grandfather, and was used for... what was it? Whatever steamboats were used for back in those days. I have to go by rumors, because these are the only neighbors we still haven't met, after living here for eight years. Few people on our street seem to have met them. They are extremely private people. I know what you're thinking: why would such recluse people go to so much trouble to draw attention to themselves? We may never know. What we do know is that they have contributed to the scant collection of public art in New Iberia. For that, I salute them. *
Jeff's lesson of the day is entitled "Vary Your Shtick" Anyone who teaches any kind of class to adults has a repertoire of jokes and anecdotes to keep the subject interesting. I've been teaching my foster-care-slash-adoption class for seven years now and I have my own material to add a bit of spice to the dry curriculum. We all do this (except for those people who bore you out of your skull). Shtick consists of little observations, truisms, bromides, and opinions. Anyone who's done any substantial amount of training will have a mental rolodex of these tidbits to pull out when needed. "Why are you telling us this, Jeff?" Today, just down the hall from my office, a lady was presenting the same material that she presented yesterday. I was in yesterday's class, so I caught all of her shtick already. Today, I could hear her presentation echoing down the hall, and her shtick is identical to yesterday's. Even the smallest, most "spontaneous" flourishes were being repeated right on cue, just as she did yesterday and probably every time she's given this material. And there's so much of it! She's one of those trainers who uses a lot of gimmickry and props (not my style, but it can work well). How on earth does she keep it all in order and scripted? So next time you teach a class, don't use all of your material every time. It's just not good form. (I should add "in my opinion," but since this is my website, that's a given.) * Thursday, February 07, 2002
The weather's finally good enough to start that very brief series on the public art of New Iberia. I begin by stepping out my front door and snapping this picture of one (really two, since it's back to back) of Paul Schexnayder's paintings. Paul's sign tells you a lot about his art, since it is indistinguishable from something he might have hung in a gallery. It serves as his portfolio, his business sign for his studio, and as his street address. Paul is a young man, a few years younger than JeffAndJanice, but has established himself quickly as New Iberia's favorite son. Not only is his art fun and whimsical, but Paul is a truly lovable guy. I've never heard anyone say a single negative thing about him. Come to think of it, I've never heard him say anything negative about anyone else. (That's a trait I'd like to copy, but as I have told you before, you can't hide who you are.) His art is usually painted on found objects, some of which retain their original utilitarian function, such as chairs. He has published a substantial collection of prints as well. I'm sorry to say, I've never bought one of his paintings. Partly for budgetary reasons, and partly because it's hard to find a place in my too-traditional home for his works. I originally wanted to have a more eclectic interior, but it just hasn't shaped up that way. Not everyone can boast of living next door to an artist. I really do need to buy a piece. Visit Paul's website to see more. * Wednesday, February 06, 2002
* Tuesday, February 05, 2002
* Monday, February 04, 2002
I watch one football game every year. Spectator sports rank about as high with me as award shows, which I find intolerable. But I have to say, my one game of the year was well worth watching. You already know what happened, and you won't want to hear a recap from someone who has no idea what he was watching, so I won't even try. I watch that one game for one reason. It always comes attached to a party of some kind. This year, Wilda and Al invited us over at the last minute. They hadn't been invited to a Super Bowl party and neither had we (very unusual. Wilda and Al are social animals. Somewhere there's an invitation lost in the mail, I'm sure) so it was just the four of us, a pot of chili, and a variety of wines. Yes, I'm cutting back on alcohol, but wine is a major part of any Wilda and Al gathering, and you just have to make up for it during the rest of the week. We had spent the day in Opelousas, eating gumbo with Janice's family, then digging up banana trees from Mack and Denise's new house. Mack hates banana trees because they're invasive. The new house has a small yard, but in my back yard, an invasive plant would hardly make a dent, so I wanted them. Their back yard could easily be transformed into a New Orleans style courtyard. If you've ever been in one of the old original New Orleans courtyards, you've wanted to have one of your own. But you have to have a small yard to make it work. We have a smallish side yard that would do, and I have plans in my head, but too many other projects to get done first. Denise tells me that she's a regular reader of my blogs. I have a small but steady audience who read these pages nearly every day, so I like to know who they are. Since I'm writing in reverse chronological order today, we arrive now at Saturday. We drove out to Cypremort Point just to be there. We messed around with the boat a little, and were approached by an old sailor who's given up sailing and wanted to sell me a very fine sailboat for a bargain price. This is exactly the thing I was hoping would happen, but it was the wrong boat. I've decided that I am definitely a trailer sailor. His boat, though only 24 feet long, was a heavy fixed keel boat that wouldn't lend itself to trips out of state, so the bargain goes to someone else. We stayed there until dark, watching the pelicans and the sunset, then had a cheeseburger at the tattered old grocery and grille that every marina seems to have. btw: Since I have broken with tradition and started to post color pictures, I'm planning a short series on the public art of New Iberia. It has to be a short series, because New Iberia isn't known for its public art, but what we do have is worth mentioning. Taking pictures during daylight hours will be a problem, since it's nearly dark by the time I can home and get out, but I'll get it done. Stay tuned. * Archives |
