Music

Debbie and I were chatting away over the weekend and she mentioned the idea of me starting up a band. I've played in a couple of spectacularly non-public bands before, and it was always fun. We talked about which of the people we knew (from school) were musically inclined, and pondered aloud about configurations of people and instruments.

One thing we didn't talk about during this (admittedly brief) conversation was what style of music such a band might play. In the past I've only really tried a couple of styles of music - metal and pop-punk. There was a heavy pop influence in the band that made noise at Superflat. Oh, and I guess there was that 'experimental' band where the experiment consisted of seeing how alcohol consumption affected our musical and lyrical processes. That was fun, and there are hours of tapes as a result, but I don't know that my tired old bones could handle such a debauched approach these days.

So, in no particular order, here are some types of music that I would like to try out:

* Country 'n' Western - with a Johnny Cash type singer

* Full on Cheese Goth - with drum machine, strings, choral voices etc

* Improvisational Jazz - maybe with some brass or other wind instruments

* Acoustic Rock - all mellow styles, with some talented vocalist type(s)

* Hair Metal - with millions of really fast solos, and tights

* Hip Hop Metal Fusion - this just seems like a fun musical style, period

Of course, my preferred activity outside of school is hanging out with Debbie, be it sleeping, watching cool movies, visiting folks and playing boardgames, drinking, RPing, or just chilling in our crib. So the whole band thing runs counter to my obsessive desire to spend time with my good lady wife, and could well entail further damage to my already fragile ears. So it's rather unlikely to happen any time soon :) 

Cameras are fun!

I have just started a filmmaking unit with one of my year 9 classes, and it promises to be a lot of fun. One of the things I like about that class is that I can be reasonably confident that they will actually get something done in the time given. They aren't 100% when it comes to completing tasks, but they're more reliable than any of my other classes.

We started with some very simple stuff today - filming the numbers one to ten in sequence. It was actually quite time consuming, as students figured out how to set up tripods, hpw to put tapes in, and the best ways to roll up their uniforms so that they could hold a piece of paper in front of their crotch and appear naked on screen.

There was some inevitable silliness.

Still, I am a lot less exhausted and grumpy than I thought I'd be at the end of a 5 lesson day. Yay for fun period 5 lessons! 

Less Formal

I suspect that my spoken language at school has become somewhat less formal. I have had way fewer students ask me what country I'm from this year, and I've generally noticed that I use fewer words which students don't grok.

I'm not sure how I feel about this. I think I'm... disappointed? Concerned that my environment is shaping me into a grumpier, less eloquent person?

Then again, I don't think it's a change that has seeped too far into my non-school life. I'm still able to write in the same style as I was accustomed to use before I started teaching here, and I don't believe that my language has changed much in non-work situations, though I am a little more likely to say things like "James got the mad skills at dice rolling" than I once was. This may in fact have as much to do with being exposed to James' language use as anything...

Today I held a meeting for some students interested in a film-making competition. I couldn't help making a string of sarcastic or silly comments. Luckily it was a Y12 and Y13 group, and they all had a sense of humour. Thus, when I said that one camera was sufficient for most small filmmaking purposes, and that unless they were planning to do stunts like setting themselves on fire, they'd probably be OK with one camera, they took it well. They did ask whether I was encouraging them to set themselves on fire, which I clearly wasn't. I also wasn't encouraging them to make porn when I told them that, technically, porn would't breach the guideline on objectionable material as long as they were 18. I told them not to make porn, but I wanted them to be clear that 'objectionable' meant 'would be banned by the national censor', and that porn was obviously not in that category as video stores were bursting at the seams with the stuff.

Maybe I am getting less formal in my role as a teacher?

fambily

 Well, the weekend was certainly lovely. On Friday we watched 3 episodes of Carnivale (we’re up to the last episode of the season, which we will hopefully get a chance to watch tonight). Then on Saturday we drove down to Lower Hutt to visit Debbie’s mum, then back up home to tidy the house, then I drove up to Palmerston North to meet my ma and brudder. Debbie had work commitments, so she stayed at home and did even more tidying.

It was super nice to see my family, have dinner with them and chat about random stuff. Adam and I drove back home while mum went to the Big Sing. It was really nice to catch up with my big brudder – I only see him a couple of times a year, so it’s nice to hang out. We messed around with my home PC for a while when we got back, as it has been conking out on a semi-regular basis for the past couple of weeks. It looks like there were 2 problems, both of which are now fixed! Huzzah!

The only problem with wonderfully busy weekends is that they leave me shattered. Teaching 5 lessons yesterday was not easy. Finishing off the moderation video as well made the day pretty full-on.

Today I have a whole hour to myself, which is a marvellous thing. Hence the blogging, and probably some more work on the moderation video (getting it onto a DVD and a VHS tape), and who knows, maybe even some lesson prep and marking. Those last two are less than likely, given all the other stuff I have to/want to do.

So, I am well and truly ready for another weekend.

busy busy!

 I have been assigned the task of compiling speeches onto a tape for moderation. This wouldn't be too bad if I had my own computer to work on, which I could leave capturing tapes while I was teaching, and return to whenever I happened to have a free moment.

Sadly, I do not. I have to commandeer the library computer, which makes the librarians slightly unhappy as it stops them from being able to get stuff done. This in turn makes me feel guilty, so I'm snatching a few minutes here and there when I can. The fact that the speeches range from 10 to 22 minutes in length, and I need to compile 8 of them onto a tape, means that I need to be in the library for a fair chunk of time altogether.

I have put a request in to the executive officer to get my hands on a laptop, even if only temporarily. I think it's futile, but at least people will know that I want one.

So, the speeches themselves look OK - they'd probably be great to watch live. Sadly, they aren't quite so moving when viewed on the 1.5 inch screen of a camera, or when they take ages to edit on the computer due to their sheer size.

Of course, there's a fairly strong argument to say that I should forget about the whole computer thing and just copy them using 2 vcrs. A strong argument indeed. In theory, the technology should make things easier, but in reality..?

Still, it's one of those things that I'd rather do right than fast. It's not a task I'll be putting my hand up for again unless I get meself unlimited access to a suitably equipped PC. I guess the best way to get that done is to inspire my students to win the CUT! filmmaking competition, and snarfle the shiny computer prize that goes to the school for myself.

Right, where are some talented students that I can exploit?

Flattery

 A couple of very nice Year 12 students asked if they could have pictures I'd drawn today. I was supervising a cover class, as most of the Y12's are out today. I'd drawn a pitcure of a beardy guy in a 50's kinda space suit on the class list during staff briefing, and when I went around taking down a list of who was actually there (10 showed up, 4 who weren't on the list, which means that 24 of them didn't). They saw the picture and complimented me, then asked if they could have it.

During the class I drew another picture whilst playing a game of Cow with some other students (I died first 2 games in a row, so had plenty of drawing time). As they were leaving, the two students who had asked for the first picture complimented me again, asked for the picture, and asked how I learned to draw like that (comic book style, I guess).

It's nice to be able to tell students that when I was their age I couldn't draw to save myself. I taught myself to draw when I was in first year varsity, having decided that I wanted to write and draw comics. Anyone who's seen my first comic efforts will know that I'm not a natural - I've developed the skills I have through practice and a healthy dose of copying other people's art styles. I guess, since I can't copy all that accurately, and I have trouble remembering the exact details of other people's styles, that I have ended up developing a 'style' of my own, which is all the bits that I can remember and recreate from all the artists I've tried to copy.

I can look back over the past 11 years and see a distinct improvement in my drawing skills, which is a nice thing. Even in the past couple of years, I think I've gotten better at drawing.

Of course, there are people I went to school with who were way, way better artists when they were 13 than I am now. They also continued to get better while I knew them. So I try not to compare myself to other artists too much, as I know that I can do the things I can do well, but that I'm very limited and amateurish. Still, present Matt can kick the arse of past Matt when it comes to drawing, and present Matt even gets compliments from students sometimes, so present Matt is a happy Matt.

More balls

 Huzzah! Another ball, this time for my school. It was a lot of fun, very wholesome and enjoyable. Lots of students came and said hi, and introduced themselves to Debbie, which was lovely. Some of them even told her that I was their favourite teacher, but I suspect that this is because I don't make them do much work.

The whole thing was lots of fun, and I am very keen to learn to dance the Gay Gordon for next year (I think I remember how it goes, so that shouldn't be too hard).

We also saw a play on Friday, called I Hate Hamlet. It was also lots of fun - a comedy, with good acting, a neat set, some great use of music and lighting, and plenty of laughs. Again, I wish my brain was better at remembering funny lines, as most of it is lost to me. I do remember enjoying it though! The venue was good too - cafe style tables with BYO wine, which made the performance even more enjoyable :)

And now, back at work. I took Friday off, so my week last week was a short one. I still feel pretty sick, but I'm going to try to get through this week with no days off. There's just a little bit too much going on for me to be able to take time off easily. That said, if I start feeling worse...

Lastly, Debbie and I are watching Carnivale Season Two (courtesy of Jenni and Lee) and it is excellent so far. Very, very creepy stuff!

Balls

Well, on Saturday I had the distinct pleasure of attending a school ball as an adult. It was a very interesting experience, marred just a little by my own sickness. 

The students looked fabulous in their formal attire - some stunning dresses, some sharp suits, a blue 50s suit here and there, some gentlemen with canes and so on.The evening itself was mixed. The music was all 'doosh doosh' nightclub music, for 4 straight hours, which grew to be a little tedious. It also meant that there were quite a few students who didn't dance at all, this not being their kind of music I suppose.

There were lots of little instances of naughtines, which was at times stressful, but the experience as a whole was highly enjoyable and truly fascinating.

I took yesterday off work due to the aforementioned sickness. I'm back today, but I'm not convinced that I'll last the rest of the week. Damn sore throat. My form class were not particularly polite today either - or more accurately, 5 of them were not so polite which made talking to the class quite difficult, especially as I can't raise my voice to any significant degree.

I did get some marking done yesterday, as well as a little tidying of the house. Restful for my voice but reasonably productive, so that's a nice compromise. I also watched the documentary features on Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow - damn good docos really.

Now I must go and try to catch up on the work from yesterday, and look at maybe planning for tomorrow just in case my voice is gone by the end of the day!

Barely Surviving

Uhhhh, Matt is sick. Matt has a very, very sore throat. I considered calling in sick today, but decided that I couldn't be bothered trying to frantically write relief lessons at 7:30 in the morning. It was easier to limp in to school and struggle through the day. 

It hasn't been that bad, really. Students keep commenting that my voice sounds different, which gets a little tiresome the 30th time, but I'm not suffering from any symptoms other than a sore throat. When I woke up I could barely get a sentence out, with my voice cracking and failing like crazy. I had a hot drink, and warmed my throat up a little, and I managed to get up to a croaky, monotonal James Earl Jones voice. Oddly low pitched. I haven't got much past that, unfortunately. If I try to vary my tone at all my voice just stops, so I'm Mr Monotone today. 

I have had students asking me pointless but inventive questions just to hear my different voice. I also had a kid ask me to say "I'll be back!", as I apparently sound a little Arnie. Hmmm. It's reminded me of two things: 

 1. The weather guy on Black Books, whose voice is a source of... pleasure for Fran. 

2. Throat singing - my voice seems to be almost entirely a throat voice today, the bass tone that normally sits under the higher tone in your voice. I saw a TV report on throat singing and found it fascinating, so much so that I tried to reproduce that awesome monastic chanting hum. I did OK in separating the throat voice from the other one (head voice?). Today I have only throat voice to go with, hence the different sound and lower tone.

teh m@+3rn@1133+5p3@k

Woah. My mother wrote something in leetspeak. I'm totally freaking out :) 

 Parent Teacher Interviews tonight - more than 30 of the buggers - and I have a very sore throat. Teh ouchy. I think I might pop out and grab me some soothing drinks before 3pm. Most of them will be fine, though there are a couple of tetchy students whose parents have made appointments. 

 Me am going to be a very tired Matt come 8pm tonight...

Big Blue Bear

So Debbie and I arrive at the new house that we've just bought - it's a sort of cottage affair, with lots of greenery around, a sharply steepled roof, and quite old decor. We got the house cheap because it was an estate sale. We're wandering about looking at various parts of the house, when I find a room out the back we haven't seen before. It has a concrete floor, brick walls, and is quite small. There is only one window, and it's partially blocked by external shutters that are hanging askew. A shaft of dusty golden light streams into the room, though it doesn't do much to light it up.
I notice that the back wall is divided into sections, and has a handle at one end. I slide it back, revealing a larger space behind. The room, once this partition is pushed back, is quite big. There is one other window, which looks out into a corner of the garden, a private little corner with a hill blocking the view. I look around and decide that it would be a good room for gaming.

Then I hear music. It's loud, energetic rock music, and it seems to be coming from above my head. I look up, and there's a mezzanine floor of sorts that I've somehow missed. There's a stereo up there, and the light is somehow brighter, warmer. There are piles of tapes and old LPs up there too, and when I look down again the room is filled with furniture and boxes and random junk - a room that has only been half moved out of. There is a feeling like I'm not alone in the room any more, but there's nobody here.

I walk out, looking for Debbie to tell her about the room. When I look back, it is once again a small room with a single window, barren walls and concrete floor. I'm disoriented for a moment. My eyes lose focus. When they come back into focus I'm looking down at a picture in my hands - it's a photo of a child holding a blue teddy bear. The photo is in a frame, and when I glance up there's an obvious patch of darker wall where the picture was hung. I look back down at the photo, then walk towards the front of the house, now looking for the bathroom.

Behind me, the space where the photo had hung grows darker. It pulsates slightly, then bulges outwards. A form begins to emerge from the wall, a small blue teddy bear climbing out of the patch of darkness. It drops to the floor with a soft thud, then stands up. As it stands it grows, filling the hallway, at least 6 feet tall. It begins to amble down the corridor towards the bathroom.

In the bathroom I'm splashing cold water on my face. The photo stands on the basin in front of me. I look up at my reflection, then back down at the basin. I hear a noise behind me, and turn slowly. The Big Blue Bear is stumbling towards me, arms raised clumsily. I know that it's the ghost of the former occupant, trying to kill me, maybe suck my life force to reanimate himself. I know that each time I move or touch one of his enchanted items it will come to life and try to retake the house for him. I am terrified.

I grab the picture, and hold it up in front of me like a talisman. The photo is facing towards me, the young child clutching the little bear happily. I run forward to meet the Big Blue Bear and try to drive it back. The back of the photo frame, where the bear belongs, seems to have power over it. I drive it back, down the hall, to the spot where the photo used to hang. I thrust the photo back against the wall, and the bear is squashed back. As I hang the photo once more the bear writhes silently, then shrinks back behind the frame. It is trapped, silent, hanging on the wall once more. I look around the house, looking for other threats come to life.

It begins to occur to me that this may not in fact be our dream house after all.

From the Mouths of Babes

I had a very interesting class with my Y13 students today - they strayed onto the topic of elections, and who people were going to vote for. I was mostly just an observer in the conversation, only answering direct questions, and trying to do so without imprinting my political biases too deeply on the students.
There were 3 students talking (from opposite sides of the classroom, quite loudly). One was going to vote for Helen Clark - though she wasn't 100% sure which party that was. One was going to vote for the Greens, and one was going to vote for National. The discussion centred around a few key points:

• Helen Clark is a lesbian
• Helen Clark is a lunatic, as she wants to use tax-payer money to pay off student loans
• Labour are doing a good job running the country
• Homosexuals shouldn't be allowed to get married, because it's just a chemical imbalance, and that's just icky
• The Civil Unions bill was a good idea
• Prostitution is gross, and nobody should be allowed to do it, let alone be encouraged
• The Prostitution reforms were good because they made prostitutes safer, and some people have no choice about what they do for a job

Obviously that's a sample from both sides. It emerged that none of the students were really well informed, but that didn't stop them holding strong views.When asked, I explained that I was employed by the government, and that tax cuts are generally paid for in public services like hospitals and schools, so I didn't particularly care for parties that were running on tax cuts as a main policy. I tried to say as little as possible, though I did voice my support fo the Civil Unions bill on the grounds that marriage was awesome, and anything that recognised that commitment and family was a groovy thing, which in my opinion is what the whole civil union thing is about.

Most of the class just listened, as the two students with the strong views sure made for interesting commentary. If I identified them as a white girl who owns several horses, and a Maori girl with a high involvement in social events and charity fundraising, you might not be surprised which one supported which party.