Moving

We are moving. We attack a part of the house, pack it in titanic tupperware, then take it and unpack it. Rinse. Lather. Repeat.

We do not know how to use the thermostat at the new house. I never had a programmable cooling system. So it's hot there in the afternoon and early evening. We are supposed to learn how to use the thermostat tomorrow and also meet with the handyman to get the old dishwasher out and put ours in.

Last night in Wal Mart I saw B. J., my creative writing teacher and member of our Gang of Three writing group. I learned that I am moving to her neighborhood. I hope she does not think that my move is an elaborate stalking plan.

I should talk about B. J. sometime, but the post would have to be solely devoted to her, because she's special. Besides having an unusual personality (from my nerdish perspective) she is one of the most giving people that I have met. I must stop writing about her, since I said I would save it.

The weather is supposed to be rainy this week, so the rest of the move may be problematic. I have four or five friends coming over Saturday morning to help us polish it off--the big furniture, freezer, televisions, etc.

But I am taking Sunday off.

What's The Matter With Kids Today?

Now and then I hear colleagues bemoan the fact that university students are not in class to learn, but to get a grade. I usually remind them that there are three main education hypotheses in economics: human capital, screening, and consumption.

It may be that employers want employees who have abilities (human capital) that they can learn at a university. So students attend universities to build this human capital. Students who believe in the human capital hypothesis want to learn, whether or not they get satisfaction out of the learning process, so they can get good jobs.

It may be that employers do not think that universities can teach the student anything that the student needs. That is, there are good employees and bad employees out there, none of which will be improved by education. But these employers may see a university diploma as proof that the student will be a good employee. The student who has jumped through four years of educational hoops has demonstrated that she will put forth effort in order to perform and does not find learning as painful as the student who did not get the diploma. So that a degree reveals a good employee, but getting the degree does not make a good employee.

Finally, students may be getting a degree because they like education. They do not care about gaining skills to get a better paying job. They do not care about the stamp of approval of a degree. They just love to learn.*

How many of our students have which of the three motivations, and to what extent?

My guess is that 90% of my students firmly believe that education is screening. Some of them also believe in human capital, too--I'd guess 60% of all students believe that they learn useful skills. And I'd say 1% of our students would be at the university if there were no employment enhancement from a university degree, either by screening or by building human capital. That is, 1% of students love to learn.

But since my colleagues were once part of that 1%, they sometimes fall into the trap of thinking that all of their students should be, as well.

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*I have somewhat short-changed the consumption hypothesis. It includes the concept that a student may, separate from any love of learning, enjoy being at a university with their peers, joining sororities or fraternities, going to football games, partaking in Guitar Hero contests, etc.

Porch

In the late 1940's families in the Southern U. S. would sit on their porches after supper. They would visit with their neighbors and the kids would all gather and play. By the mid-50's many of these community rituals had ceased and "neighborhood" lost more meaning with each passing year. What caused this change? Air conditioning.

Before air conditioning the home was much hotter in the afternoon and early evening than it was outdoors. After air conditioning the home was cooler. There were still pockets of the south which did not have air conditioning, though.

I grew up in a home built by sawmill workers for sawmill workers around the turn of the century. None of the walls were square. An air conditioner would not cool much area, so after trying one we gave up. We had an attic fan set in the ceiling that pulled air through the windows. Not the same. So we used the porch.

My wife's family also lived in a town that was not pervaded by air conditioning. She loves porches.

Before we bought a home, we would sit out on the balcony of our apartment if the apartment had a balcony. Our first home did not have a porch. But since it had a shady back yard, we bought a bench swing and would sit outside and talk when the day was cool enough.

Then I got a new job and we found an unbelievably affordable home. But this one had no back yard. Also the front yard was lousy and on a busy street. We felt like we would be exhibits if we sat out front.

The home we are moving into has a porch. The street dead ends, so traffic is light. The yard is so shaded that direct sunlight seldom shines on much of it.

We set up our swing yesterday. It was good.

Light and Dark

Over my lifetime I read a few short stories here and there, but mostly stuck to novels.

I would be pleased to continue reading and writing novels, but to establish writing credentials, I think I have to publish short stories. I enjoy writing short stories, but I agree with Orson Scott Card--it takes about as much conceptual work and research to write a short story as to write a novel, and novels are so much more lucrative.

To learn more about short stories, I seek the best speculative fiction short stories and learn from them. Even among the best collections I find many stories that I consider marginal. Naturally, every story is not for every reader but, in my opinion, some bad writing sits in high places.

Chizine: Treatments of Light and Shade in Words, publishes excellent dark speculative fiction short stories and poetry.

Kirt Dinan's Longtime Gone won Chizine's short story contest in 2007. I read it last week. It grabbed me and held me. It took me into another world. It was not strictly constructed on scenes, as I prefer, but it absorbed me--the best short story I have read in a long time.

Enjoy.

Review, Really!

I have just read a story by an author who, in my view, gave me a realistic view of Jurassic Park. My favorite story in the Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction's July issue is The Dinosaur Train, by James L. Cambias.

There are few dinosaurs in Cambias's world. Of course Disney has some. And the teen protagonist's grandfather owns a dinosaur circus. When one of grandpa's dinosaurs gets sick, he feeds her a concoction containing some leaves and Dr Pepper, as instructed by the woman who sold him the dinosaurs decades before.

The dinosaur throws the Dr. Pepper concoction up at a performance of the circus show. At another time a scientist says that it sounds like the dinosaur has a spleen infection like he recently saw and diagnoses a common antibiotic. That is exactly how doctors work. "Hm, sounds like it's probably X. Try the usual solution."

Cambias writes about real people dealing with a mostly unknown creature. Cambias's scientists sound like real doctors, not like Crichton's supergeniuses.

Another realistic aspect of Cambias's story is the way that the dinosaur circus drew huge crowds decades ago, when dinosaurs had just been rediscovered, but now the circus is limping along amid a public that has accepted and grown bored with dinosaurs. The unjaded children are the biggest fans, along with the very old, nostalgic fans. Perfect.

Cambias's characters are real. Grandson ready to choose a career, favoring inheriting the dinosaur circus, while his father counsels education. Grandpa, who has spent decades standing up against a government that is looking for an excuse to confiscate his dinos, thinking they can do a better job (I love it!), has been hardened into unreasonable stubborness. Yes, he is the biggest dinosaur of all.

The writing is smooth. The story structure is strong.

I loved it.

Moving

I am moving across town during the next two weeks. We have a two week overlap in the lease, so we are taking a gradual approach.

Non-essentials go first. Finally we will be down to a small set of essentials like beds, computers, televisions, minimal kitchen stuff, and minimal furniture.

I have never done a move like this. We do not really have to pack lots of stuff at once for one big transport, packing it so well that it will survive the moving van hitting potholes at 70 miles per hour. We bought a few of those big plastic tubs--the stuff that's like giant blue tupperware. So it will be like this. Pack knickknacks off the mantle, cushioned with a sheet, pack cookbooks, pack the food pantry stuff that we probably won't have a crushing need for, then haul, unpack, and repeat.

Eventually, we will have to face the pain taking the freezer door off so that it will fit through the door to the house, turning the sofas up on their sides and working them out the door, balancing mattresses, etc. But, overall, I do not see a huge amount of pain right now.

Bliss

One of my idiosyncracies is that I am oversensitive about others' feelings (except when I'm not). For instance, I might not ask about your dad because he is in poor health and he may have died half a year ago and I forgot. Or maybe I forgot to ask you about Dad for half a year, so I never knew.

In any case, I don't want to barb you and make you say, "Dad's dead," just when you thought you would get through an afternoon without dwelling on it.

You may be thinking, "Nah, you don't want to ask about Dad because you'll make yourself look bad for being an insensitive clod for forgetting his death or forgetting to ask about him for six months."

Not so!

I am also reluctant to talk about my marriage unless I know the audience's marital experiences are generally good. Sometimes I forget and blab about how happy we are. By the time the person I'm blabbing to has told me that he/she had two messy divorces and has given up on marriage. I feel so bad for bringing out the contrast that I am usually crying uncontrollably. (Well, I am feeling guilty, at any rate.)

Yes, Julia and I are happy. I told you about when we met and about our first date. We have known each other for 27 years and have been married for nearly 24 years. We have three sons.

After becoming parents, couples often lose touch with each other and find, after the kids are grown, that they do not know each other and don't particularly like each other. Our oldest son is 18, so I think that if we were going to lose touch with each other we would have done it by now. Julia and I often make time to be alone, sitting in the park or driving around or letting the oldest take the other two to scouts and staying home together.

We usually keep each other amused and, after 27 years, we still have plenty to talk about.

We are usually able to work out conflicts before they arise. When we do argue, we are able to resolve things and go on without lingering resentments.

We have similar temperaments about many of the things that cause problems, such as division of household labor and use of funds.

I know all this seems practical and not romantic. But since I am an economist, that is what we are stuck with.

Julia is an art person, so in some sense we are a case of opposites attracting each other. Over the years, we have influenced one another. She is more of an economist and I am more of an artist (at least a little more).

She is very feminine in her approach and, as you can tell, I am very male. We both feel that women and men are different in their ways of thinking and are made to enjoy each other's company. I am consistently surprised by her approach to life, and she bears with me.

Now that I have broken my rule about blabbing about our great marriage, I'll go hide my head in shame for doing so.