Do you remember your first job? With the passage of time, the depression and other bad effects have lessened. While I don't think the experience was all that great, there were some good effects, including learning how to work with others and how to pass the time.

I worked as a dish washer at my first job. I interviewed for the job of waiter but my brother ended up getting that job. So the next available job for me was dishwasher. The restaurant was called "L'Odeon."  It was supposed to be a classy French restaurant but since the chef was Swiss and his wife a young woman half his age who drove a convertible sports car, it was really a place of conflicts and class warfare. Who one was seen with was important. The owners only wanted to serve certain types of people--not just anybody off the street. I suppose this one of the first bad effects.

Some of the good effects included getting a pay check, a summer job, and paying into social security ay at a young age.


Some of the bad effects were, as I mentioned, the owner's wife. Also the job was rather dull and was thus disappointing because it was not fun. The last thing I had to do at the end of the night was to empty the garbage. That was a huge and heavy job for a young person.

Overall, I look back on my first job with a sense of the dread of manual labor...

I fought the garbage company and won--sort of.

What was I going to do with the Christmas tree this year?  It was already dry, and only the cat was enjoying it, as he hides behind it and even drinks the green needle tea water. No wonder the tree was dying.

Then I remembered that the garbage company promised to pick up the tree on January 10 at the latest. I put the tree out on January 10. I thought that that was the end of the story, but if you know the here unnamed garbage company, you probably know better. I called the garbage company:  the truck is out; no way of telling where it is but will be at your house today. For sure. For reals.

The day came and went. All the other garbage was taken away, except the tree. I called them for a second time. The young female attendant assured me that the truck would be there. That was Friday.

The nosey neighbors left some huge clippers with my son. I got the hint but refused to cut up the tree and place the pieces in the green bin. Later, my third ex-wife "borrowed" the clippers.

Then the neighbors asked my son for the clippers back. What a comic and tragedy of the absurd. I didn't even want the clippers and then they disappear. I hate neighbors like that. Forget the ex-wife. Why do ex -wives borrow things that are not mine and not theirs to borrow? Why do they come around while the garbage truck won't?

The weekend turned to Monday and I refused to put the tree away. All my neighbors' trees had been taken away. I was  beginning to feel victimized. I called the garbage company again. "Oh the driver will be back for it." I thought she was serious but by night the tree was still there. I refused to take the tree out of the street. I refused to chop it up into pieces and put it into the green can.

I called again on Tuesday morning. The young woman asked whether the tree was visible from the street. Yes, it was. "The trunk will be there by the end of the day."  Tuesday night, nothing.


Wednesday morning. I asked to speak to the supervisor. He hung up on me. I called back again. He, Michael, assured me that the tree would be picked up in its full form.

I waited. Thursday came. Finally, I heard the third truck stop. And it picked up the tree. It had disappeared. Nothing left except some needles.

I reclined--exhausted-- on the old red couch. The cat, missing the tree more than we humans, found a new spot on the edge of the couch.

The New Sophists

Rhetoric and composition studies has a new movement but like many movements in modern academia, it has historical roots with a new sexy twist. It is the seduction of words in whatever realm: writing, politics, economics, media, or education.

This new movement has its contrast and its detractors:  they are the followers of Aristotle, Aquinas, and today MacIntyre. These contemporaries wonder what has become of argument and proper persuasion (not Facebook narrissicism, rule by emotion and graphic images and video). They look for sollogisms ("All men are mortal; Socrates is a man; therefore Socrates is mortal") behind the arguments, substance, and underlying principles and what they usually find is that behind contemporary discourse, debate, and media, there is no substance. The substance is the underlying principles of community, intellectual freedom, hope, and the human spirit.

So who were the sophists in Ancient Greece? In the words of Alasdair MacIntyre, they sought successful careers in politics, the assembly, and the courts where "to succeed in that milieu it is necessary to convince and to please" (14). As might be expected what the sophists taught varied by place and crowd.

In the 21st century the sophists are seemingly omnipotent. They are the short-sighted congress people of all parties who cannot see the forest for the trees. One is obsessed with the federal deficit; another is equally obsessed with cutting any spending. They are the economists who are only trying to promote their own self-serving economic theories based on the gold standard, or Keynes or Reagan. They are the recreational marijuana crowd; they are the global warning obsession people; they are the one issue abortion rights or pro lifers, and the gun people. They are the educators who only care about multiculturalism or moral relativism. Last is the media lovers who think their existence is contained in their ipod mini.

None of these groups has an underlying set of coherent principles or simply stated, a philosophy of life. If they do, it is self-serving and short sighted. There is no connection to the country or continent as a whole. As would be expected debates are mere assertion and counter assertion. Moderators cannot get these new sophists to answer questions or explain their underlying principles. The sophists just keep talking and jarring their opponent.

The consequences are equally omnipotent: deadlock in Congress; posturing but no decision making; prevalence of media which seems to have no purpose or meaning. An increase in poverty but also opulence at the highest level. Fiscal crises that are perpetual; funding shortfalls and unbelievable violence in real life but also in the oversaturated media that bombards the average citizen literally twenty-four hours a day with pointless violence and self-destruction.

The consequence is what John Paul II used to call "the culture of death": widespread destruction and violence, a lack of consciousness of it, and a loss of hope for young and old alike (Love and Responsibility 3). The new sexy twist is the media obsession with sex appeal and the use of sex objects, usually female, to persuade and sell. The underlying principle is simply to sell and to buy, which leads to the same meaningless activity tomorrow. And that handheld device is the perfect place to do it.

The solution is with many things--education. First, students need to think about the media they are using and how they are using it. And second, students need to be taught to argue and be persuasive but in ways that are "legal" in academia. This also means, however, that academia has to believe in standards of thought again. Debate and dialogue must again happen in this country, where underlying principles can be discussed. This cannot be done in Congress, on Facebook, or Twitter.

The dreaded G word in English class--Grammar

Teaching grammar is definite back in vogue. How to teach grammar is the beginning of an interminable debate among educators. Does one teach traditional grammar or more along the lines of transformational grammar? Group grammar projects? Computer assisted aides?

The problem seems to be that the result, despite the approach used to teach the students, is the same: very little knowledge of how to use grammar in their own writing.  One observation of mine is how little students know about the traditional vocabulary of grammar. If the traditional or untraditional approach was used does not seem to matter if students do not understand number, plural, subject verb agreement, verb tense, active v. passive voice, subjective v. objective case, dependent v. independent clauses, etc.

Just as one discovery in i-generation reading is that its vocabulary is lacking, so is the case in terms of grammar. If not does not understand the vocabulary, one will not understand the teaching unit.

Thus the Califas Guide to Grammar is born to go back and explain what all the words and concepts mean for the population of Califas that to some extent does not have the background knowledge of concepts in the English language.

Be careful about what pops up on Tumblr

I simply asked a student to show me his rewritten essay. He proceeded to bring up his Tablet. As he was getting to his essay, suddenly the photo of a topless woman covered the essay. Frankly, I believe the young man is gay, so the topless photo was a dare by the young woman who sits near him.

The photo showed a woman with a white teeshirt over her face but protruding her breasts. Her arms and elbows were pointing out. Her skin color was obvious.

I laughed and said, You never know what is going to pop up on Tumblr. The student laughed and the young woman in the back of the class got embarrassed.

You never know what will happen on a Monday; you never know how students are using technology in the classroom--and it is not always for writing purposes.

Importance of vocab and reading comp

I thought it was a simple prompt for my midterm, which consisted of writing a summary and opinion. The piece was entitled "Don't Eat the Flan." Students were scrambling to decode words like gluttony, therapization, etc. Furthermore, although I thought most had a Catholice background, they did not seem to understand about much about the seven deadly sins.

Additionally, two students who were sitting at the same table said they had come up with totally different understandings of the author's thesis.

It is important to choose a prompt carefully, even if it was from a more basic writing textbook. Students need to understand the importance of vocabulary in reading comprehension. We as instructors need to understand that reading comprehension is another step we must teach before the summary and opinion essay.

The Importance of the Ugly Brown Suitcase, Or Unwanted Gifts

“Mr. Murphy,” my father started in his unusual use of speech, “by the end of the summer, you are leaving the house. You are either going off to university, and we will help you pay tuition, or you are going to work, but either way you are leaving the house, period.” This was the reason why for my 18^th birthday, my father had purchased me an ugly brown suitcase. While my father had lived with his mother until he got married, he did not want the same for his sons. We all had to leave at age 18, but my older brothers left willingly. Upon reflection I do not think that this strategy is all bad. While the shock of being forced to leave home at 18 was harsh, I believe the experience helped me become educated and an independent person.

The end of my 18^th birthday party was filled with tension. My friends were also shocked and laughed shyly. But like the well adjusted middle child that I was, I accepted my fate. So at the end of the summer, I got on the Greyhound Bus and went off to Gonzaga University. I had to endure the cigarette smoke since smoking was permitted in the back of the bus, the smell of old ladies’ flowery perfume and of course their flatulence. The worst part, however, was the fact that GreyDog had sent my box on to Montana. A week later, I finally got my box which contained my bedding, clothes, and desk supplies. As a consequence, I slept in my clothes for a week. I was trying to become a bohemian and pretend I did not care.

I was a good student. I was religious about going to the library every night, including weekends. I wrote some Beat Generation type poetry and was in love with Mary Morris, a senior PE major. The first words she spoke to me were, “We have this tradition where the senior women seduce the freshman boys.” I did not know if Mary was joking or not but I remember being struck by the word “seduce.” Some nights I stood under huge oak trees and wrote poetry while campus police shone its bright flashlights on me as if I were on drugs or suicidal. “Are you alright?” the campus cop asked. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I also stayed outside the haunted music building. It was late, yet I could see inside the old house where the instruments were all playing but no one was inside. So both spiritual and the occult, I was exposed to many ideas that first year. Furthermore, I learned the basics of many subjects: poetry, politics, biology, sociology, and even Freudian psychology—and of course basic composition.

I have never been a very practical person, but when I was in high school, I had no common sense or street smarts at all. At college, however, I learned some practical skills like how to do laundry: don’t throw in whites with everything else. I also learned to skip dinner if the spaghetti was too watery or the turkey was cold and overcooked. Instead I went to the café for a burger and a game of Pac Man. I started to enjoy video games again. I also loved the jukebox blaring out “Down on the Corner” or “Bayou Woman.” Gradually I began to speak up more and to develop some practical skills but it was a long process.

Thus, I had started to develop my academic and practical skills. Upon reflecting on that first year, I realized that my father had my interests in mind. He was not just looking to throw me out of the house. He did know best. And after that semester, I was welcome at home as a college student, not a pubescent animal. I have never returned home to stay, and I am proud of that fact. I had accomplished something: becoming more educated and learning more practical and social skills. Now my son is 18 and it is time to send him off on his quest for education and enlightenment. It is time to buy the ugly suitcase and give the “By the end of the summer” speech to my son. In fact I would recommend the same to many young people who are prepared for university: give it a try. Leave home for four months and see what happens. While the student may miss his family for a while, his or her future depends on being educated and learning practical skills that can be best acquired at university—and away from home.

Robert Frost once wrote, “Home is where you go when there is nowhere else to go and they have to take you in.” in my case, however, this was not true. For my 18^th birthday, my father had purchased me an ugly brown suitcase. While he had lived with his mother until he got married, he did not want the same for his sons. They all had to leave at age 18. Upon reflection I do not think that this strategy is all bad. While the shock of being forced to leave home at 18 was harsh, I believe the experience helped me become educated and an independent person.

My friends were also shocked and laughed shyly. But like the well adjusted middle child that I was, I accepted my fate. So at the end of the summer, I got on the Greyhound bus and went off to university. I had to endure the cigarette smoke since smoking was permitted in the back of the bus, the smell of old ladies’ flowery perfume and of course their farts. The worst part, however, was the fact that GreyDog had sent my box on to Montana. A week later, I finally got my box which contained my bedding, clothes, and desk supplies. I slept in my clothes for a week, but I was now a bohemian and did not care.

I was a good student. I was religious about going to the library every night, including weekends. I wrote some Beat Generation type poetry and was in love with Mary Morris, a senior PE major. Some nights I stood under huge oak trees and wrote poetry while campus police shone its bright flashlights on me as if I were on drugs or suicidal. I learned the basics of many subjects: poetry, politics, biology, sociology, and even Freudian psychology—and of course basic composition.

The seniors loved me because I could consume lots of beer and hold my own. While inside I was still an insecure teenager, outside I was a bohemian loner who did not care about those students who just wanted to go to college to find a wife and make money.

I also learned some practical skills like how to do laundry: don’t throw in whites with everything else. I also learned to skip dinner if the spaghetti was too watery or the turkey was cold and overcooked. Instead I went to the café for a burger and a game of Pac Man.

Ultimately, my father had my interests in mind. He was not just looking to throw me out of the house. He did know best. And after that semester, I was welcome at home as a scholar, not a pubescent animal. I have never returned home to stay, and I am proud of that fact. I had accomplished something: becoming more educated and learning more practical and social skills. Now my son is 18 and it is time to send him off on his quest for education and enlightenment. In fact I would recommend the same to many young people who are prepared for university: give it a try. Leave home for four months and see what happens. While the student may miss his family for a while, his or her future depends on being educated and learning practical skills that can be best acquired at university—and away from home.