The RainDrop

Some teens have "Facebook Fatigue," because parents are oversharing, nagging, and perhaps seeing details of their lives they don't want you to see.

Will you let them "unfriend you?"

Are you a facebook friend of your kid? What are your thoughts on what some teens are saying?

Read this article in the L.A. Times for more.

A town in New York has the most unique welcome sign you'll probably ever see.  (Yes, more unique than my hometown's!)

The sign requests that everyone who enters the town be modest -- more than modest, as most Americans think of modesty.  The sign requests that people wear skirts to the ankle, pants, covered necklines, and no sleeves above the elbow.

Read about the town here.

This guy is gonna try to reach level 70 without a single kill. Wonder if the software supports putting flowers in other peoples' guns?

Since putting our new daughter Naomi down at 8, I've had to go tend to her three times -- I've rocked her, patted her, talked to her soothingly, and she still is mysteriously anxious... Also, my day's highlights include: my dog getting into the garbage and strewing wet diapers all over the living room.

Good times.

This is the fifth post in this series by Leigh Moore.  You can find the first one here, and the subsequent ones on this page (scroll down until you find them).

Thursday, Friday and Saturday—Awiri Health Centre II—Dokolo District, Uganda

When we approached the clinic site on Thursday morning, it was difficult to spot the buildings beyond all the people.  Hundreds of locals were there, either already registered to see a physician and lining the perimeter of the medical building or sitting in a shaded area waiting.  They all hoped to be registered for treatment and, moreover, to be seen on the same day.

Linda later asked us to recall our favorite moments of the trip. Mine was sometime on Thursday morning, after our students had begun treating patients.   I watched Julius extract a tooth and was hit hard with a realization that he was, in many ways,  already equipped for this work.  His dexterity with the instruments, in particular, was markedly more nimble than my own had been during my first day in the oral surgery clinic. 

Nicholas (the 19-year-old orphan who had recently been working as a ditch digger) exuded confident compassion with the patients.  Godfrey was not only an excellent clinician but was always thinking  three steps ahead.  Peter and Joseph, too, performed with consistent excellence.

 By the end of three days treating patients, approximately ninety had been seen and about 130 teeth had been extracted by the students.  Without the benefit of suction, drills, water or steady lighting, the five men served these Dokolo patients with remarkable kindness, maturity, intelligence and skill. 

Certainly, we were and are aware that the students will encounter difficulties as they continue in their dental service and, to that end, mPower strives to establish positive relationships with local dentists.  Charlie reminded the students that their dental education is limited and that they are not to consider themselves dentists.  He specified certain scenarios which always should be referred to local dentists.   During our days in the clinic, we were visited by a nearby dentist named “Dr. Morris,” who enjoyed visiting with us and brainstorming ways he could work in concert with community dental health workers.

That Saturday evening, we held a certification ceremony, not only for the Community Dental Health Workers, but also for Everlyne and Scovia, two wonderful young women who had trained as sterilization technicians.  All of the instructors as well as the students were given a few moments to speak, to share their feelings.  I remember Godfrey began his message with, “It has been an historical week.” 

We on the mPower team believe it was indeed a week that mattered.  Beginning two days later, the five men saw patients and collected fees without supervision.  They will polish skills which should be useful for the remainder of their lives.  Moreover, they will alleviate pain for an untold number of their countrymen.  Their income will sustain not only their own endeavors but that of their respective organizations. 

Sustainability is a beautiful concept to consider.   Lest anyone think that Ugandans feel differently, I will close with the words delivered at the very end of our certification ceremony.  Pastor Richard, a local leader, rose and began to speak. His voice breaking, he looked in our direction and said, “Thank you for coming.  We don’t want your money.  We need your skills.”

mPower will send a follow-up team in 2011.  I hope to be with them.

This is the fourth installment of the series by Leigh Moore.  You can find the first one here, and the second and third one here (scroll down until you see them).

Tuesday morning—Dokolo Hotel Bar (Our classroom!)

To obtain certification as a Community Dental Health Worker, one must successfully complete two days of didactic dental education and three days of proficient patient care.   We opted to utilize the hotel’s facilities for teaching.

Charlie’s lectures were equal parts instruction, encouragement and pressure.  He introduced the course with enthusiasm, rejoicing in his privilege to train them.  At the same time, he verbalized his expectations very clearly.  “I didn’t travel all the way over here for you not to study.  You will study, and you’ll know this material.  Cold.” 

The Ugandans were quick studies,  and they were singularly focused.  During breaks and mealtimes, they were found in pairs, drilling one another on dental anatomy and anesthesia fundamentals. They took copious notes.  What they did not understand, they questioned until it was clarified.

When class was adjourned, everyone went out into the hotel courtyard for that kind of clinical training which always comes first—working on each other. 

To the chairs they went.  Earlier in my writing, I mentioned Steve Saint, a lifelong Ecuadoran missionary who has been a pioneer in this effort to train nationals to deliver palliative dental care.  His company, I-TEC (Indigenous People’s Technology and Education Center),  developed a portable dental chair for such work several years ago.  Carried in a backpack,  the 33-pound chair can be unfolded and  ready to accommodate dental patients  in less than two minutes. *  

Any initial clinical experience will necessarily include training in sterilization and what health care providers call universal precautions.  The trainees were sized for latex gloves and shown the layout of the instrument tables.  Here again was an opportunity for Charlie to espouse his ideal of excellence:   “You know how rampant hepatitis is,”  he told them. “You know that many of your patients will have HIV.  You must not endanger your other patients, your families or yourselves.”     Linda and Robin would closely supervise the students’ sterilization and hygiene procedures, correcting and perfecting them through the last day of training.

After they were sanitized, gloved and masked, they students gave each other their first intraoral shots.  Can I tell you how shaky my own hands were the first time I gave an injection?  These guys were pros!  They were the slightest bit hesitant at first, but their technique was remarkable.  And they were numb—or, as they say in Uganda, paralyzed.

Wednesday was somewhat like Tuesday; there was more teaching by Charlie, this day focusing on extraction techniques.  There were many, many questions posed by the students.  They had to learn all the names of the different forceps, elevators and luxators they would be using.  Most importantly, they passed their didactic exams, allowing them to see patients beginning on Thursday. 

Looking back, I wonder if they suspected how many were waiting for them.

*Photos of the portable dental system may be seen at http://itecusa.org/ident_pds.html 

From another conversation online, but on the same topic we've been discussing.

A  symposium on Slate magazine is intriguing, but it also reflects the particular cultural elite/urban world inhabited by the young writers. What was compelling about the NYT piece was the breadth of the research. The writer wasn’t just doing an anecdotal piece about hip, young, and wealthy New York kids, but instead took a broad look at the data before zooming in on individual lives. It was that broad data, looking at twenty-somethings as a group, that was so compelling. They change jobs a lot (not terribly damning by itself). Almost half move back home with their parents (again, not that significant in isolation). Two-thirds cohabit before marriage (this is a number that’s hard to justify by any measure). It is the collective picture of aimlessness that is disturbing.

But one of the symposium posters makes an excellent point:

Isn’t New York Magazine always writing about how parents act like children, anyway (see “Grups“)? And what of the line in Greenberg: “The adults dress like children and the children dress like superheroes.”

Boomers also still don’t want to think they’re grown-ups. See those ridiculous Dennis Hopper surfing ads for Ameriprise? They’re going to turn retirement upside down!

This generation’s aimlessness and vise-grip on childhood is learned behavior. We all have trouble growing up these days, it seems (the pictures accompanying the “Grups” article are just priceless), and this eternal adolescence often results in a self-centered life. Isn’t my generation — the forty-somethings — abandoning marriages because spouses are “of no added value“? Don’t we have attitude problems in matters large and small? The specter of a 40-year-old proudly lashing out at a dress code is almost sad. Wasn’t that bridge crossed in tenth grade?  

At the same time, I type this scolding post in my own set of blue jeans in a rural Tennessee office that looks vaguely like a SoHo loft. And — full disclosure — I’m locked in my own version of eternal adolescence with an extremely healthy (if that’s the right word) video-game addiction. In fact, one of my proudest media moments was an in-depth profile by a leading gaming website.

So, am I part of the problem? Viewed through one prism, I’m an old-fashioned guy who never lived with someone before marriage, got married and had children before age 30, attends church every week, and has a “responsible” white-collar job. Through another prism, I’m a 41-year-old blue-jean-wearing, undead-slaying activist lawyer who changed jobs a few times in my twenties and early thirties and still has a problem with long-term planning. Do I have trouble growing up? What kind of message do I send?  

The message I hope I send is that a good family enables an adventurous and purposeful life and that maturity is measured by your devotion to the meaningful duties in your life — and that even the mature can enjoy a good lightsaber duel.  

But that’s not quite right. . . . As we look out at a broken generation that produces a broken generation, perhaps the best answer is the one reportedly given by G. K. Chesterton when asked “What’s wrong with the world today?”

“I am,” he replied.   

Regardless of our generational characteristics or our own personal biographies, we are simply ill-equipped to serve as examples for others. In Chesterton’s profound and humble statement lies the true first step to cultural reform.

This is the third installment of the series by Leigh Moore.  You can find the first one here, and the second one here (scroll down until you see it).

Linda woke us from our comfy beds  at 6 on Monday morning, to get us to Dokolo by midday to give us half day for dental training.  A comedy of errors delayed our departure, though, and by 2 pm we were barely an hour out of Kampala.  After I dozed off in the back seat was and was startled to see a none-too-friendly-looking Ugandan policeman outside our window, barking an order to Jeff.  “Give me your camera!”

Jeff was born with the happy gene.  For someone is his forties, he is refreshingly void of cynicism and suspicion.  So, when the cop told Jeff to hand over his camera, Jeff cheerfully announced, “Hey, everybody, get out of the van; this nice officer wants to take our picture!” 

Indeed, this man had no intention of taking a jolly group photo.  He’d seen Jeff taking pictures while we crossed over a dam and, as a result, seized his camera.  (Can you still call it “seizing” when something is handed to you with a smile?)  The good news is that Jeff talked the guy into getting his camera back.  The mental image I’ll never lose, though, was the priceless look on our two Ugandan escorts’ faces when we jumped at the chance for a photo op.group photo op.  To paraphrase a line in The Hangover, “You guys are literally too stupid to insult.”

Some brushes with bees and snake holes provided the only excitement for the rest of the 8-hour drive.  Then, one mile outside of Dokolo (with 8399 miles behind us, no less), we had a flat tire. 

It was long after dark when we arrived at the Dokolo Hotel.  Dinner had been held for us.  That meant that, already two days late, we unwittingly forced everyone in our midst, including the trainees, the California medical team and the locals, to go without food for hours.

 All I really remember about that night was checking to see that all those other people were fed and then beating a quick retreat to our room.  Our 8’ X 10’ room.  For three people.  For six nights.  Welcome to Uganda.

During breakfast time on Tuesday, the trainees came over and made their introductions to us.  Their English skills were excellent, which was a blessing.   The ability to bypass interpreters, as you might imagine, afforded us a multitude of extra time for teaching and training.

In all, five men and one woman were sent to us by several different agencies in partnership with mPower.  The oldest, Peter, was 40.  Nicholas, at 19, was the youngest.  The others were Julius, Godfrey, Joseph and Everlyne. 

I remained curious to see how much this group could learn in a week’s time. Time to get to work.

Because I lived with my grandparents growing up, I didn’t get the normal grandparent experience. I remember once, when I was very young, traveling to visit my grandparents, my Nonny (as I called her) standing in the doorway beaming, full of hugs, warmth and hospitality. When my dad and I moved in a little later, all that changed. We were everyday, part of the household.
 
And that’s just what I remember about my grandparents. Their last child, my uncle, had left for college and they were empty nesters at last. But when life asked them to provide us a home, they did. I don’t know if they hesitated or resented it. I wasn’t privy to that conversation. They did it because That’s What Family Does. To their generation, the World War II generation, duty was part of the air they breathed.
 
They put up with my childish demands and tantrums, birthday parties and sleepovers. My Nonny was there after school for a red licorice snack and a chat. By the time I graduated high school, we were very close. She was something between mother and grandmother. I like to believe they both thought the result was worth the extra child rearing years. I’m fairly sure, however, when they made the decision, it was out of duty. I think joy was a surprise. It’s often that way with life. You don’t know when you start down a path if that path will lead to beauty or pain. You hope, but you don’t know.
 
Now they both rest at Arlington National Cemetery, an honor due my grandfather from his service as a Marine in the South Pacific during World War II. That was long before I was born, but it shaped him and, eventually, me. He could be a mean sucker, but he never lost his sense of duty. For which, I am very grateful. Semper Fi.

Perplexed by a baby announcement on a kid's Facebook page, I checked into it.  Forget the diapered egg babies we carried around in Home Economics class, now you can adopt a virtual baby.  No wonder parenting has been so tough, I obviously didn't receive adequate training.    

Peggy Noonan has a nice article on our information age which, ironically, I forwarded to the SixSeeds editor in real time through the magic of email.

Read it here.

Unfortunately, due to cancer throughout my family tree, answering this question presents a bit of a dilemma for me. For four generations, no grandchild has ever met a grandmother. So, memories look a little different in our home. One such memory of my grandmother was finding my mom, normally so upbeat, lying on her bed in tears. Perplexed, I asked what was wrong. And she said, “I just wish you could have known your grandmother and she could have known you.”

Fast forward a few years and this time I am the one in tears as I again find my mom in bed. But now, it is a hospice bed. I tell her that I hate to see her suffer like this. And her response has profoundly affected me ever since. She said, “Don’t… I don’t… it is what is going to make you able to give me up.” 

You see, she knew how hard it was to lose a mom young. She also knew the pain of her death would only be bearable when it was actually less painful than watching her live. And so as miserable as her circumstances were, she was willing to endure them.

Her own experience of loss meant she knew many of the things I would long for later… parenting advice, a shared love for my children, as well as stories of our heritage. So, she left those things for me in the form of a journal. 

As a result, I almost feel like I was standing there when my grandmother’s wig, a poor camouflage for the results of chemo, came off on set of her PBS Science show.  That day seems almost as vivid to me as the day I walked into my mom’s first grade classroom, finding her so sick from her own chemo, but  giving up her break to hold a child who wasn’t going to be held at home.

The only memories of my grandparents were well formed though the voice and life of my mom, the same way I will pass the memories to my own children.  But, for the next generation, lets hope the memories come the way they are supposed to.

There's a great essay by Scott Adams (creator of Dilbert) in this weekend's Wall Street Journal about his efforts to save the earth by building a green home.

Reader Mail, from Stephanie:

"The best advice my grandfather ever  gave to me was "if you don't have the money to pay for it, don't buy it."  He also was the one to teach me how to balance my checkbook."

This is the second part of a series by Leigh Moore, you can find the first installment here.

We planned to fly into the Entebbe (Uganda) airport around 8 pm on Friday night. Our flight out of Detroit was delayed 3 hours, though, and because of the infrequency of flights to Uganda, this hiccup grounded us in Amsterdam for 48 hours.  I should perhaps have been exasperated about this, but I was in no way a group leader (or in charge of any other humans for the first time in years).  And that gave me the luxury of embracing an unexpected giddiness usually reserved for 6^th grade field trips. 

During this unexpected downtime, we visited the Anne Frank house, relished historic architecture, giggled at red-light district t-shirts and, more germane to the greater purpose of our trip, enjoyed getting to know the team members:

Linda Webster is the mPower Executive Director and trip leader; Charlie Vittitow is the mPower founder and served as lead dentist for this trip;  Jeff Montgomery is a dentist from east Tennessee;  Robin Reeder served as a sterilization tech for the week; Mitch Owen is a dental student at the University of Kentucky and also happens to be Charlie’s son-in-law.  Linda, Mitch and Charlie already knew each other well; Robin, while Jeff and I were the new additions to the mPower family.

And so, after two luxurious days in Europe, we finally landed in Entebbe. We were greeted at the airport by a man I know only as James.  He is mPower’s primary contact in Kampala, which is Uganda’s nearby capital city.  James had made arrangements for us to stay at a Kampala guest house, and so he came to Entebbe to escort us there.  The purported one hour drive actually took three; the African Union Summit was underway, and we encountered multiple roadblocks and security checks. 

Despite heightened security and the Libyan presidential motorcade, I inexplicably pulled out my camera and began playing with the flash.  It is as though the soldiers outside the window were really just on television.  I had no capacity for common sense—that’s what the driver told me, anyway.  Little did he know, we had a few more naïve American tricks up our sleeve.

The guest house seemed to be about 20 minutes outside Kampala.  By the time we were unloaded and asleep, it was about 2  a.m.  Linda got us up at 6 am on Monday for the drive to Dokolo District, where we were to spend the remainder of the trip.  Once in Dokolo, we could not only meet up with a California-based medical team  but also get to know our students and  settled into whatever kind of accommodations were available to us.

It sure seemed like we had been away from home a long time, with 8 hours more still to go.  And a couple of adventures still stood between us and our destination.

I took my son into my parents attic the other day and he found the old
Atari 2600 box in the corner.  He laughed for probably ten minutes when
he saw the graphics of the games that we used to spend hours playing.  

Don't get me wrong, the parents' basement can be pretty cool.  You can get a lot of video gaming done down there.

In my early 20s, I was totally committed to the idea of spending a decade roaming the earth.  Then I found myself with two kids and $90K in student debt with nothing but a freakin' Harvard Law degree to my name.  So I went to work.  I'm still committed to roaming the earth for a decade, though.  I just have to wait for my kids to all leave the nest, and I'll get to do it with my wife (assuming she hasn't by then followed the latest trend of ditching her husband).

I'll just add one data point that I think should be factored in: we're living a lot longer than we were just 100 years ago.  As a percentage of average life span, we might be turning into adults at the same time as always.

I actually think that too many of us go to college at too young of an
age. The problem isn't people not knowing what they are doing in their
late 20s - the problem is people thinking they know exactly what they
are doing in their late teens and early 20s.  Then when they hit an
obstacle in their late 20s they panic and regress.  

I kind of enjoyed my wilderness years in my 20s.  Had a bunch of jobs, a
bunch of apartments, and a bunch of free time.  I think that we should
encourage more exploration at that time.  I always resented the guys
that were on the treadmill and had every single career plot chartered
out - work for two years after college, go to graduate school, get
started on a career, and then get married.  

I like the folks who do things out of order and have the guts to totally
change careers and get a new experience.

I remember getting to work with the Jaguars and hearing the story of the Jaguars' owner Wayne Weaver, who dropped out of high school at 16 to start selling women's shoes.  Not suggesting that as an alternative course, but remember that I was sitting there at my desk thinking that I'd always been spoken to about 'completing my education' and there I was, after going to college, law school, a federal clerkship then some law firm experience and I was really getting started on a career path (or so I thought)...at 28. 

I found it interesting. I just was too busy keeping up with responsibilities to reply. Managed three children, a puppy, wrote two articles, a conference call, and contibuted to a friend's summer movie review radio show. And it's only 2.

Not that I'm bragging. Ok. I am bragging. Usually my days don't sound so quantifiably cool.

Anyway, I thought of two things. One...sometimes my kids ask me what it means to be an adult.  I tell them you're an adult when you put a roof over your own head and food on your own table. (Or are part of a marriage team that does so). There's nothing so clarifying as the prospect of going hungry. Or, the American version...not being able to afford cable.

Secondly, I thought of the many women in this region who hit 35 and realize their clocks have ticked almost out and they lack prospects for having a family. As a statistic, it's interesting. But for many individuals, it's more...it's heartbreaking.

That's the other thing I tell my kids. Life is short. Time is linited.  Enjoy it but don't waste it.

Does the following sound like the description of a healthy culture?

One-third of people in their 20s move to a new residence every year. Forty percent move back home with their parents at least once. They go through an average of seven jobs in their 20s, more job changes than in any other stretch. Two-thirds spend at least some time living with a romantic partner without being married. And marriage occurs later than ever. The median age at first marriage in the early 1970s, when the baby boomers were young, was 21 for women and 23 for men; by 2009 it had climbed to 26 for women and 28 for men, five years in a little more than a generation.

This description of twenty-somethings — taken from a lengthy New York Times piece on our current college and immediate post-college generation — sounds like a single-paragraph description of the textbook self-directed life. It is a life of postponed responsibility, sexual and relational experimentation, and career aimlessness. It is a life centered around questionssuch as: “Am I happy? Am I fulfilled? Am I satisfied?” It is a life that fundamentally misunderstands the nature of the world. For the upper classes, it is a Disneyland life — an artificial reality created by the hard work of others. For those who struggle with poverty, it is the first step down a road that leads to the permanent underclass. It is a life that flies in the face of all that we know sustains a nation, an economy, and a culture.

This is not to say that our twenty-somethings are uniquely selfish. In fact, they’re learning the lessons taught all too well by their parents — parents who in many cases either lack the moral will to teach their children core civilizational values (after all, it’s important to be your kid’s friend!) or have done an outstanding job modeling selfishness in their own lives.

Finally — and I know that I’m a broken record on this point – but any discussion of the college generation wouldn’t be complete without noting the small minority of citizens who have completely forsaken the “delayed adulthood” of their peers and volunteered to fight what is now almost a nine-year war. While their peers explore “gap years,” move home withtheir parents, and hop from job to job until they find one that is “just right” and makes them happy and fulfilled, this generation of soldiers, deploys, fights, recovers, and deploys again. A country that can produce more than 3 million such men and women at any given time is still a great country indeed.

Reader mail, from Johnifer King:

My grandmother use to make wedding cakes.  I remember being at her home watching her decorate them.  She would leave the room and I would eat the icing!  When she died, I asked for her cake pans and icing tubes.  Not that I'll ever bake one, lol.  But I got them!  My grandfather was a farmer.  It's hard for me to pass a farm of any kind and not think of him working in the fields.  After he died, I saw his tractor out on the farm.  I had to really think for a minute that he wasn't on it.

Reader Mail, from Patrick Martin:

My grandmother was a SERIOUS Republican. She is largely responsible for my interest in politics. My other granny was just the sweetest, nicest lady in the whole world. Never a word if complaint or harshness came from her. What patience I have comes from her.

Reader Mail,from Pamela Wise:

Spending the summers with them in London, Ky. Learning about my Great Grand mother who was the 1st Deaconest in the London church of God church.  Going to church with Granny on sunday and then to the Ramanda Inn Hotel for Lunch. Moma Julie would love to listen to her and watch her. Granny worked around the house, mowed, etc...took me skating at Finnley's and to the pool. Always had a blast...

Grandparents Day is coming up.  (I hear what you're thinking -- I have no idea if it's a real holiday!)  Whether or not you choose to celebrate on September 12, it's important to honor our grandparents and parents.

We'd like to know: what's your most vivid memory of your grandparent?  Or, what's the best advice you ever got from them?

Please e-mail me at comment@SixSeeds.org -- we're looking forward to hearing from you!

Did you know that yesterday Facebook quietly launched a feature, called Facebook Places, that allows people to track your physical location in real time? It’s active, right now, on your account. It allows you to “check in” to tell people where you are, but also allows others to “check” you in and reveal your location to your Facebook friends, and depending on your privacy settings, their friends and the whole world.
 
There are obvious safety issues with tracking people. If social media reveals you’re at Niagara Falls this very minute, what’s to stop a thief from breaking into your house? See www.pleaserobme.com .  It also opens up a whole new world of possibilities for stalkers. This article explains how to protect yourself on Foursquare, a location tracker many young people are using, but also could apply to Facebook.
 
Over at Slate, Farhad Manjoo explores how it just might expose those little white lies we tell to get out of a group dinner in order to attend our kid’s soccer game, and why that’s not a good thing.
 
How much self-exposure is too much? Looks like we’re about to find out.
 
If you want to disable the Facebook location feature, instructions can be found here. Be safe out there, kids.

Can we 'choose' happiness or is it a matter of circumstance and genes?

The Yankees hosted HOPE Week this past week (Helping Others Persevere & Excel).  What a wonderful week for so many - from Nick Swisher, Mariano Rivera and other players crashing a birthday pool party for a thirteen year old double amputee, to Andy Pettitte, Alex Rodriguez, Mark Teixeira, Jorge Posada, Derek Jeter and other players helping special needs kids play on the field Yankee Stadium, to manager Joe Girardi guiding a woman, blind since birth who attends about 30 Yankees games each season, on a run around the bases...

And why do they do it?  The Yankees media-relations director, Jason Zillo, said, "We don't want people just to say, 'You know, that's a nice thing the Yankees did.'  We want them to say, 'That's a nice thing the Yankees did.  Let me do something.' " 

Well, we're still working out the kinks, but how do you like our slightly renovated look?

We're happy to put more of a focus on this blog -- in case you missed the difference, we're a little higher on the page.  Don't we look taller?

So, please come back every day and see what's happening at the SixSeeds Raindrop!

There was a time when I found interviewing celebrities daunting. Not anymore. What helped? Tantrums. Seriously.

Today I had a full-on, no holds barred standoff with my eight year old in Target. It was the OK Corral there in the toy aisle. And the towel aisle. And the cashier aisle. Pretty much the whole store. He whined. He cried. He screamed and ran away and hid among the garden hoses. He refused to move. As I went through my discipline steps, he only argued louder. It ended after about twenty minutes with me carrying him out bodily, vengeful visions of cancelling Christmas dancing in my head.

It wasn't pretty.

But after enduring the shock of hundreds of shoppers and the presumed snickers of cashiers, potential embarrassment in asking Jennifer Aniston a stupid question pales in comparison. Getting a dark look from George Lopez? Please. I've had worse.

Give me your best shot. I've endured a inappropriately loud questions in public ("How did that HUGE man get so fat?"), defended wildly creative wardrobe choices (how many shades of pink can one girl wear at a time?), and paraded through three major airports with vomit on my clothes (not my own). I am Mom. Hear me roar.

Does this survey of incoming college freshmen  (noting, among other things, that email is “too slow”) make you feel old, or what . . .

My goodness, the world moves quickly.

Do you love Macs and want to keep them in the family? If your college student buys a new computer before Sept. 7th, Apple will throw in a free iPod touch along with a discount. The deal  applies to teachers too. 

You've generously accepted all the Facebook friend requests that have come your way-  but what if one friend updates their status every five minutes and you're tired of reading about what they had for breakfast.  Or maybe they like to share their daily political rant and you'd rather not be privy to it?  Here are some strategies that may be kinder than "unfriending" them.

The University of Arizone College of Medicine has a really interesting new CPR, and you don't have to be certified! Here's their description:

"Every three days, more Americans die from sudden cardiac arrest than the number who died in the 9-11 attacks. You can lessen this recurring loss by learning Continuous Chest Compression CPR, a hands-only CPR method that doubles a person’s chance of surviving cardiac arrest. It’s easy and does not require mouth-to-mouth contact, making it more likely bystanders will try to help, and it was developed at the University of Arizona College of Medicine.

"This video is worth sharing," said Gordon A. Ewy, MD, director of the UA Sarver Heart Center and one of the research pioneers who developed this method."

Watch it here!  You might save someone's life.

I love the Fuddizing concept, Rebecca.  I'm going to implement it forthwith.  But I might have to educate the clan first on who Elmer Fudd is.

I've been employing a similar concept by singing the chorus of certain songs in a loud, heavy country twang.  My kids are almost giddy with anticipation when "Dead and Gone" comes on.

After years of begging me to turn down the radio in the car (“It’s too loud, Mommy), my almost 13 year old son has become a music freak. He lives with headphones on, downloads songs on a weekly basis, and has opinions about rappers with whom I’m completely unfamiliar. This is a whole new world for me, but it’s also led to a new tradition. Elmer Fudd. That’s right. When a song comes on the radio that’s “Fuddable,” we sing along in an Elmer Fudd voice. I like to think I’m doing it to bond with my teen, but the reality is it’s just too fun. Here are our top five Fuddable songs:

1) Hey Dere Dewiwa by The Pwain White Tees

2) Hawf of my Heawt by John (Fudd) Mayer

3) Bulletpwoof by La Roux

4) Rwidin’ Sowo by Jason DeRulo

5) Anything by Daughtry

What songs do you hear that just beg to be “Fuddized?”

I agree.  Nathan has become a one-trick pony with his writing and his yoga.  I won't be impressed until he masters a new skill. I think that he should now set his sights on taking down Domingo Edjang Moreno.Known by his MC handle Chojin, he rapped 921 syllables in one minute on December 23, 2008 to become the fastest rap MC in the world.

Beat that Nathan.

Ho Hum, Mike.

Another Whitaker NYT-topping effort.  Isn't this feeling a little "same old, same old" now?

When my daughter (now eleven) watched Dora, she had no front teeth and “Swiper the Fox” was “Swiper La Box.”  After two kids cycled through Dora, many years passed.  But to this day, as we head out the door, and I say, “Let’s Go!” someone, inevitably will scream “Vamanos!”  Of course, you can’t stop there.  Then, someone else would sing “You can lead the wa-ay!”  It got so annoying that we had to make a rule.  No “vamanos-ing.”  We’d aged out of Dora, of course.  

Six weeks ago, we adopted a two year old from Africa who’s already been exposed to three different languages (her tribal language, Amharic, and now English).  For one moment, we hesitated before showing her Dora, which incorporates Spanish.  We stood there at the television, remote in hand, trying to decide what to do. Should we unnecessarily expose her to “azul?”  Would it do more harm than good?

“Let’s do it,” my older daughter said. Within minutes, our newly adopted daughter was talking to the screen, unfazed by the language or even Swiper La Box’s antics... And I’m proud to say, Dora’s theme music wafts through the house once again.  And, by the way, everyone watches.

It was only a matter of time. Every hero needs a ballad, and the hero of flight attendants now has his very own. 

My wife Susan was an attendant for 10 years and neither of us were that surprised by the article. Tom was spot on - the disorientation created by lack of any substantial community, low pay, cranky customers, tighter flight schedules and working conditions makes for a few unhappy people. Susan has stories that although not taking the "slide for life" (literally) had attendants losing it in fairly unconventional ways.

An attendant wigging out tossing peanuts to passengers while edifying the passengers with "peanuts for the monkeys," or the attendant who attempted to exit the plane mid- flight by attempting to open the pressurized door. I sense she would have been more difficult to find than Mr. Slater.

The Flipside of course are the real pros who can take the craziness and turn it into an enjoyable experience for everyone traveling. There are plenty of those ...but the declining levels of air service and schedules have not helped facilitate this.

While we at SixSeeds generally frown on practices like summarily quitting jobs (especially in a recession), there is something to be said for going out with a bang.  Here’s one Jet Blu flight attendant who’d had quite enough:

“One passenger stood up to retrieve belongings from the overhead compartment before the crew had given permission. Mr. Slater instructed the person to remain seated. The passenger defied him. Mr. Slater reached the passenger just as the person was pulling down the luggage, which struck Mr. Slater in the head.

“Mr. Slater asked for an apology. The passenger instead cursed at him. Mr. Slater got on the plane’s public-address system and cursed out the passenger for all to hear. Then, after declaring that 20 years in the airline industry was enough, he blurted out, “It’s been great!” He activated the inflatable evacuation slide at a service exit and left the world of flight attending behind.”

Elsewhere, the article adds a magnificent detail — just before sliding down the freshly-deployed emergency slide, the flight attendant grabbed a beer from the beverage cart.  Yes, yes, I know that he likely committed a criminal act.  Yes, yes, I know that deploying an emergency slide at the gate is not a good safety practice, but sometimes, down deep inside, don’t you want to “pull a Slater” too?

John (my lovely husband) works at the American Enterprise Institute, where his boss Arthur Brooks does quite a bit of writing on happiness research. His conclusion? Happiness comes from "earned success," working hard and enjoying the fruits of your labor.

As I blogged in a previous post, research shows parenting decreases happiness. Maybe we're not meant to ask what makes us happy, at least in the short term, but what we do that matters. Earned success.

By that standard, I bet Aragon was happy when he sat in a free Middle Earth without Sauron to pester him and got to tell his story over a stein of grog.

Here's Brooks' blog post on the earned success concept.

On a national political scale, this has implications for making a moral argument for a free enterprise system. On a more personal scale, it's why we've started making our kids do yardwork, but we pay them the going rate for it. If they do a professional job, that is.

Did someone say ''time for a distracting tangent"? Well, about a month ago I went to see the "One Man Lord of the Rings" show here. I enjoyed it, but not nearly as much as 1) if I were Dave or 2) it was 2003 when I could actually remember what was in the movies. Unfortunately the guy couldn't get approval from the LOTR people to do his show for about 5 years after he created it... until they got around to seeing him do it and decided he was harmless. Anyway, here's a clip w/some highlights. (The guy made his name doing an earlier 'One Man Star Wars' show.) I assume one of these characters is Aragorn, or Aragon, or Avalon, or Alamode.

Do you find it hard to find books that your boys want to read? Check out this site for some help!

Is Dave really asking us whether a fictional character was happy?

Dude, step back from the computer and go do some yard work with your family. 

I may have mentioned this before, but one of Deborah's classes this summer was on happiness.  Ironically, it was the most disorganized class, with the most work, of all of them.  Strangely, as much as she complained about the class, I think it really did make her happier.  Or perhaps she was just happy to be done with it.  Between that and her class on "relationships," I got sucked into a lot of unhappy moments that required me to share my feelings.  When she asked me if I was happy, I said something like, "I guess I am, sort of, generally happy (pause) . . . I'm not going to run off with another woman if that's what you're asking (pause) . . . I'm happy when you're happy . . . are you happy?"  I wish I could have just said,"Was Aragorn happy?" and left the room.

Interesting, John.  When I see these things, I tend to ask myself, “Was Aragorn happy?”  Not that I can compare myself to Aragorn (except that I do own a replica of his sword), but so much of this happiness research just completely misses the point for me.  To carry the Lord of the Rings analogy further, I can certainly see the Boffins and Bolgers and Proudfeet of the Shire living lives of near-perfect happiness-maximization (in a benign and perhaps even virtuous way), but that’s not the life I’m going for.  Anyway, I’m working on a whole extended Ranger/Hobbit/Shire analogy for a longer SixSeeds piece on work ethic and family time.  We haven’t had enough geekery on the e-zine lately. 

A very thoughtful SixSeeds reader passed along the following brief summary of the recent  New York Times article “But Will It Make You Happy?” Thank you for the contributions, SixSeeds friends!  

1. Experiences (e.g., travel, classes, activities with friends/family) generate greater happiness than buying more material “stuff”; hedonic adaptation (taking things for granted not long after purchase) happens very quickly with material goods (new car, new shoes, new house, new couch), while memories of travel and experiencing things with other people actual improve as time passes (even if the experience wasn’t perfect, e.g., a trip to Italy).

 2. Living a lifestyle that is required for unbridled consumption (mounting debt and a career treadmill) is, as you would expect, dilutive to happiness and peace.
 
3. Anticipation of something (including buying a material good) is often more fulfilling than actually buying or experiencing it.  Example is to wait as long as possible to buy an iPad if you really want one badly; trips should be booked as far in advance as possible to allow for more time for anticipation.
 
4. The amount of money one has after having enough to meet basic needs is neutral in happiness; it is how we choose to spend money that determines our relative level of happiness.
 
5. Relationships have very high correlation with happiness; ergo, spending money on things that promote and develop deepening relationships (group travel/dining/classes, a bbq grill to host backyard gatherings, wine to host a tasting with friends, etc.) amplifies personal happiness.  “The one single trait that’s common among every single person who is happy is strong relationships.”
 
6. To combat hedonic adaptation, many small and varied experiences or purchases are better than fewer large ones, e.g., take a bunch of three day weekends as opposed to a two week vacation.
 
7. The article does not address the role that giving plays in happiness (though tangentially, in how people experience happiness in giving a bunch of their belongings away to simplify their lifestyles).  I would argue that this is perhaps the greatest source of joy (particularly when it involves relationships, e.g., working with the non-profit team and beneficiaries of the non-profit’s work). 

 8. The business implication of the article (it was in the lead article in today’s business section) is that companies need to find ways for greater interactivity and developing deeper relationships with their clients and prospects in both the purchase and ongoing relationship.  This could be education, ongoing interaction with the company (seminars, client gatherings), site interaction (e.g., the Genius Bar in Apple stores), etc.