Solitary

If The Man Suits made me miss collaborative music making, this video of Julianna Barwick makes me miss solitary music making. I haven't been getting much of that either lately, something else I've been feeling.

I noticed a name on Asthmatic Kitty's roster that I hadn't seen before. Turns out Barwick makes some unique and pretty interesting vocal soundscapes, as I guess the cool kids are calling it these days, and this video shows that she does most of it in the comfort of her bedroom using Garageband of all things.

Yes, there's something to be said for the synergy of getting a group together and letting each one do his part, watching it grow into something bigger and better than you expected. But there's also something to be said for getting the sound that's in your head out, as close to how you're hearing it as possible, a version that--as truly unattainable as it may be--no one else can begin to hear.

And again referring to my alternate life of a recording engineer, I think I mostly like the girl for her love of reverb and acoustics, the sound of singing in a stairwell or parking garage.

Download an mp3 over here.

Goodbyes and Protests

I'm not good at leaving places. Take for instance my first teaching job. It was a pretty miserable experience on multiple levels, but it was not easy to leave. I can remember leaving the building for the last time. I went and sat outside by the library, where I could see the school from across the river, just kind of stunned by what had happened and wondering what would be happening.

Time is winding down at my current teaching job now, and this one will be even harder to leave. The school has been the best environment I could have ever asked for, and now I simply can't imagine teaching anywhere else. Not only that, but I'll be leaving teaching all together. There are some days I'm OK with that and some days I'm not.

The time came on Friday to let the kids know the news, as I knew before long word would get out and I'd have to start answering questions anyway. All three fifth grade classes were gathered together in one room watching a video, so I stopped it five minutes before the end of the day and tried to make it clear that I had an announcement, something to share with them. They did their usual keep-talking-not-really-listening-thing, and my coteacher tried explaining that, no, they probably wanted to listen to this.

They quieted down mostly, and I dove right in without sugar coating. Straight forward, no beating around the bush: "I wanted to let you know this will be my last year here."

There were stunned looks in a moment of silence like a punch to the gut had knocked the wind out of them, and a moment later the outcries began: "WHAT?! ... WHY?!"

I tried to quiet them down enough to explain that I was moving to France.

The whats and whys from 55 kids continued interspersed with comments like "Oh, cool, I love France!" or "Why not Spain?"

Several questions were being shouted and several hands were waving in the air. By this point there were only three minutes left in the day, and I tried to explain I would answer a few questions if they could quiet down and raise their hands.

"Will you continue teaching?" (See? I'm going to miss the eloquent way they ask questions. I explained that, no, I'd be helping to start churches.)

"Why are you doing that?" (Some kids thought it was a rude question, but I said it was valid and I'd be willing to answer. I did my best in explaining by referring back to a chapel service where the chaplain taught on her ordination and spoke of "the calling" she had and each of us have in our lives...I told them I felt pretty strongly that this was my calling.)

"Do you know French?"
"Do you not like us anymore?"
"Where are you going to live?"
"Are you taking your family with you?"
"When are you moving?"
"Why did you move to a new house in October if you're moving again so soon?"
"Can we come with?"

As the madness died down a bit and students left for their busses, a smaller group of students approached and asked, "Who's going to replace you?"
A girl chimed in dramatically, "As if anyone could replace Mr. Shorb."
A boy added, "Yeah, whoever replaces you is going to have to live up to your legacy."
And another, "But c'mon, they're NOT going to be able to play the electric ukulele."

Two girls came with schemes of visiting France, offering to babysit. "We'll come babysit for you in Paris. $12 an hour."
"Will you pay for your flight?"
"Good point," she said. After a thoughtful pause, "OK, I've got it. You fly us to Paris, we'll babysit for free."
"Now you're thinking."

Another student was complaining, saying it wasn't fair, it wasn't right, how could I do this to them. I tried explaining that it didn't matter all that much, this class isn't even going to be in the same school next year! "Well, I know we're not going to be here, but, it's just nice to know you'll still be here. Just in case we need you."
"Security blanket?"
"Yeah, exactly."

I guess I can understand that. In elementary school, the teacher and the classroom were inseparable. They lived there, with no outside life, and they would continue living there for eternity, and you would go back and visit when you graduated, and they would still be there, sitting behind the desk. (And that's definitely true at my school, where I would guess the average tenure right now is at least 15 years.)

And then there was one sensitive, insightful boy who stopped to ask the question that seemed perfectly logical. I was fully expecting to hear it, and fully dreading it. It's the question I've been asking, the question I don't know how to answer, the question I'm afraid will be haunting me for a little while, maybe the rest of my life.

"What happened to your calling to teach?"

I'm not sure, but I'm glad I had one for the first five years of adulthood. I was the one being taught.

Dear Graduate Professor,

Thanks for giving me a good grade on that lesson plan I was complaining about.

Now, if this research paper weren't the last thing standing between me and a master's degree, I just might consider blowing it off.

Or wait, is that precisely the reason I should be blowing it off?

Spirit oh Spirit

The brothers from mewithoutYou got together with a dude from Dr. Dog and some friends for this little one day project. Besides being a fun and boisterous little tune worth downloading (for free), the video describing the process really makes me miss the process of collaboration in music. I haven't had much time for that these days, and I've been starting to feel it.

Shaking Through: The Man Suits from Weathervane Music on Vimeo.

The video with details on the recording process is just as interesting to me. It gets me daydreaming, as I do with a fair amount of frequency, about my alternate version of life where I'm a recording engineer at a quaint little home studio in the city. I think I would have been pretty good in that version of life. One thing's for sure, I absolutely love setting up microphones and pointing them precisely much more than your average person.

In this current version of life, though, maybe I'll just steal this song and ask if I can play it in church on Pentecost Sunday.

GOOOOOOOOAALLLL!!!!!!

An ad like this has the power to make full-fledged jocks even out of artsy farts like me. In this case--embracing the true football--it will be good preparation for France anyway.

In a related note, on more than one occasion, I've accidentally slipped the word "artsy fart" into the sermon I've been preaching at churches. I take pride in being pretty sure it's the first time the phrase has been used from the pulpit.

OK, truth be told, I've been a little embarrassed after it came out of my mouth and there was nothing to be done but keep going, pretending it was a deliberately chosen word.

Today is a Big Day

"But when the time arrived that was set by God the Father, God sent his Son, born among us of a woman, born under the conditions of the law so that he might redeem those of us who have been kidnapped by the law. Thus we have been set free to experience our rightful heritage. You can tell for sure that you are now fully adopted as his own children because God sent the Spirit of his Son into our lives crying out, 'Papa! Father!' Doesn't that privilege of intimate conversation with God make it plain that you are not a slave, but a child? And if you are a child, you're also an heir, with complete access to the inheritance."
Galatians 4

Several things are acknowledged before a judge in an adoption: it's permanent and final, the child is now viewed as natural, he's an heir, he's given a new name. So too with our own adoption as God's children.

Dear Graduate Professor,

I haven't written a lesson plan since 2005, when I finally stopped majoring in lesson plan writing and started doing this thing called teaching. You're ruining my Saturday by forcing me to write one again, one that I'll never actually use in my classroom.

I guess it's all part of the price we pay for earning another piece of paper telling the world we know something about something. I'm starting to wonder if it's worth knowing something about Backward Design Lesson Plan Templates. Actually, no, I stopped wondering about that a long time ago, somewhere around the time when I never actually started wondering about it.

The good news is, I only have to answer to you for three more weeks, then we can put earning this piece of paper behind me. But thank you for making me work for it; it makes me feel like it's not just about the money I'm paying you. However, some days--like nice, relaxing, sunny Saturdays--I kind of wish it was just about the money.

Yours truly and honestly and snarkfully,
Nathan

PS: Please don't google my name and read this post before giving me my final grade.

Psalm 131

"On the one hand, we are a child at the mother's breast, an image of complete helplessness. We are completely dependent on God. Without him we can do nothing. On the other hand, we are a weaned child, an image of contentment. Unweaned children cry in mother's arms until they get something from mother -- her milk. Only then are they quiet. But a weaned child is satisfied just with mother herself, with her very presence.

Here we see depicted, vividly and compactly, what Job was taught through all his trials. We must love God for himself alone, not just for what he gives us."

Tim Keller on Contentment in Psalm 131.

(See also: the aforementioned Joshua Stamper on Psalm 131.)

Genius

A boy told me two days ago that he was practicing Wing-Dings, that crazy font in Microsoft Word made up entirely of random symbols and icons. Today, he proudly announced that he was not fluent in Wing-Dings.

I told him to show me. He immediately wrote his name with little blocks and squiggles. Thinking he must have only learned his name, I asked him to write Mr. Shorb. Immediately, he scribbled out the symbols again, without even pausing to think. He wrote the other teacher's name, too. Amazing!

I started giggling with disbelief and couldn't stop, distracting the whole class. Then someone mentioned this boy's ability to recite the number pi. He said fake-humbly, "Oh, don't even get me started." But with a little more coaxing, he launched in and quickly spewed the first 39 digits of pi. Amazing!

I tried explaining to him how powerful of a tool his memory could be. I'm not sure he understood, but let's hope he starts using it on things at least a little more useful--or lucrative--than Wing Dings. The possibilities are endless, really. Magic Tricks, FBI spy, Guinness Book of World Records, fluent in many other languages, America's Got Talent.........just think of it!

Pep Talks

You will keep in perfect peace
him whose mind is steadfast,
because he trusts in you.
Trust in the LORD forever,
for the LORD, the LORD, is the Rock eternal.

We live by faith not by sight...For Christ's love compels us...And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live life for themselves...

All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.

Jesus replied, "No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God."

I can do everything through him who gives me strength.

Wend

I've heard Joshua Stamper's name being thrown around an awful lot lately, mostly from his involvement in Danielson and mewithoutYou circles, but just discovered tonight what seems to be his primary project. It had me at hello. Listen here.

a good day

i've had glimmers of good days recently, sure, but it's been rare for me to sit down at the end of the day and declare, "this was a good day."

sure, it started with a clogged ear. embarrassing, but i'll admit it, my ears have a problem with producing too much wax. couldn't hear a thing in the right one. stole some hydrogen peroxide from the nurse when i got to school. not sure it worked, but it did somehow get better over the course of the day. but i digress.

took the kids to the big apple for a rescheduled version of the previously snowed-out trip to museum of natural history and metropolitan museum of art. this group of kids is incredibly good natured, almost too much to be believable. they just like each other so terribly much. some days it drives me crazy because they just don't shut up and they don't care all that much about learning. other days i sit back and just enjoy it and the innocence that accompanies it, because really, what else can i do?

one of two buses broke down as soon as we started hitting the traffic lights in NYC. we all had to pile into one to get the rest of the way, but no one really complained.

ran through that museum as we always do, and i really liked standing under the great blue whale this time.

ran out of that museum and crammed into the bus again, this time with lunches. it was uncomfortable and mostly awful, but no one really complained.

drove by central park and all of us wished we were there, just walking around, running around, laughing around, playing around, but happy to at least be driving by and dreaming of it.

arrived at the MET and i was just happy that my nine kids actually stayed close to me, mostly.

got to the european paintings -- monet, picasso, van gogh, degas, cezanne, renoir, all the greats -- and i soaked it in one last time, watching kids get excited, plant themselves, and start sketching their favorites.

got to the modern art and soaked that in one last time too, the instantly increased volume, the questions, the comments, the remarks, the dismissals, the quiet smirks of approval. this year the kids knew who andy warhol was, and i was excited about that and so were they.

got some work done on the bus.

had very brief but good chats with coworkers about what the future holds.

got home and saw two people waiting for me on the rock at the corner of our front yard, and he waved his frat-boy wave and came sprinting and giggling to the car for the second day in a row. i had the privilege of giving the bath time he earned by playing in the dirt all day, and we splashed and yelled a little more than usual and wrestled afterwards.

saw my tomatoes and lettuce were sprouting. exciting.

we started watching WALL-E while we hung out with Mr. Wheezy and watched the sun set out the front window, and man i forgot how good that movie was. so creative, so ingenious, so completely good-looking, so well developed, and i don't know if i'm using the word correctly, but so nuanced.

finished the day with books, and i'm always amazed at how many times i end up saying, "just one more."

it was a good day, so much so that i had to write this lame post that seems like it belongs in the archives from 2003.

She and Him Scoreboard

I know for some readers this may be sacrilege, but here's how I see it breaking down for the band She and Him:


1) Sure, Zooey Deschanel is pretty -- 1 point
2) Zooey Deschanel is married to Ben Gibbard -- 2 points
3) M. Ward is a very good musician -- 2 points
4) They write some really good songs -- 1 point
5) The video for In the Sun is a lot of fun -- 1 point
6) They are good summer music -- 1 point
7) Clever marketing -- 2 points

but

8) Zooey Deschanel has a really irritating and annoying voice -- negative 20 points

Final score: -10, which registers in the unlistenable range.

I'm sorry, but once through a disc is enough for me. It's a shame, because they have so much going for them.

John Smith

I really liked Benjamin Button, and I'm not too ashamed to admit it, and it was mostly because of the opportunity to watch one man's life unfold from beginning to end.

Turns out This American Life did just as good a job of doing just that, if not better. I just finished doing something I haven't done in a long time--sit on the couch and watch TV--and chose Episode 6 of Season 2: John Smith.

They take seven men at different ages--one just born, one about to die, and the rest in between--all with the same name. The reflections on life and the similarities across personalities amid this human condition were powerful. The introduction at the beginning and the shaving scene toward the end both had me on the verge of tears.

Anyway, if you're looking for something to stream on Netflix, this hour is worth it.