Well, I can’t tell you that, but, I can discuss not lying to ourselves.

It came up in class the other day.  The course has just begun and the broad aspects of science are our main focus: skepticism, curiosity, and integrity are the main ones. Curiosity seems the toughest quality to learn for people who are not naturally curios either in general or for science.  In teaching I assume all human beings possess some amount of curiosity for something, at minimum a curiosity about one thing. This assumption allows me to act on an unproven premise, that bridging something boring to something interesting creates the possibility of making the boring a little more interesting; which could then lead to learning. So said Edith Bunker.

Skepticism – what Richard Feynman terms ‘doubt’ - seems a built in nature of all human beings, however, many are not aware of its power, or how and when to use it, or that they have or are even using it in the first place.  Education theory has used this possible core nature of the human for bit of time.  I include what are called ‘discrepant events’ in this category, events witnessed or facts learned that just can’t seem to be believed, e.g. like when helium balloons move forward when the closed-up car they are in speeds up, or that space exists between you and everything, even your shoes and the floor when you’re standing.  These things tend to grab everyone’s attention, which opens a door to learning.

Integrity, sure, we all think we have it, but do we. This is not a cynical statement, it’s a bit more subtle.  Most people have integrity at the grand level, we know to help granny or return that wallet ~<:| But what about with ourselves, are we always honest with ourselves.  I’ll answer for me: not enough when I was young, I am much more honest with myself since I recognized the phenomenon a bunch of years ago.  Need I state a proof or example of the benefit of self honesty. Don’t answer that…

Our biases for this or that can lead to allowing misconceptions to maintain a foothold.  For example, had I realized certain aspects of my personality at an earlier age I would have addressed them much earlier.  Sure, I am who I am, the sum of my experiences good or bad, but that is not the point here, the long run is not the point here; what matters is the tactics of now, of the moment, am I choosing my actions right now based on the best intelligence.  The small steps of our lives take place in the moments of here and now, ooh how cosmic. Well, c’mon, ain’t that what ‘they’ say? “one step at a time.”  Well here is a tool to help make that work, pledge to never lie to yourself by being politely curios and skeptical about your own knowledge; and to have a sense of humor if you find you’ve been a fool.

All I can say is how cool to be back being a geek again.

I had a great summer that was nice and boring.

Well one exciting thing was swimming in the ocean for the first time in, I think, decades – literally; I still have not remembered the last time I swam over my head in ocean water, ha.  It was very cool, the buoyancy, the force of the waves, the rising and the falling, just floating.

Alright, off to barbeque…

Well, where do I begin…

I’ve been working most every day for a month now: I got sleep yesterday.

I went to Boston one week for a three day field trip, and then I went to Philadelphia for a five day field trip.  Otherwise, pushing right along.

Here is a tune…

Hellooo-

Going at as even a pace as I can, still I’m constantly pooped.

The new vehicle is a dream, yay Toyota.  Though, I’m glad the smell is gone.

Well, I’m off to Staples, such a teacher thing…

I wish I’d had the fried tofu.  My sister Kate Danaher has long advocated for the humane treatment of animals. She played a prominent role in the rescue of New Orleans animal companions from the grossly negligent human blunder that followed hurricane Katrina. She traveled to Uganda to support chimpanzees, and has quietly sat outside a professional rodeo with only the support of her beliefs and a gentle sign asking for such events’ end.  And while she used to be a pain in the ass, I now see that she is a respectful and righteous advocate, a true citizen.

The link below is difficult to watch.

Without stating my beliefs about the ethics of using animals for my personal needs, to support the efforts of so many people such as Danaher, and to support the effort toward creating a global community that treats animals with humanity, I pledge to be a vegetarian for the next 30 days.

Thank you sis.

Inhumane treatment of pigs in Iowa

Now that I must use the Interstates again I’m in close quarters twice a day with people that tailgate in long trains at 70 plus mph. They pull in front of me with only a car’s length between us. This is extremely dangerous behavior. Is this ignorance, arrogance, or stupidity? Today I’ll be nice and say I don’t know the answer. But that is a lie. I’ve had a challenging yet very satisfying week, and I’d like to keep that positive sense. So, I ask that you chat with one or two friends about this simple everyday matter to help improve all our safety on the Interstates. Here are a couple talking points:

1. Following distance -> 3 to 4 or more seconds minimum between you and the car ahead of you

2. Following distance –>  add 1 second for rain, snow, motorcycle ahead, etc.

3. Gaging distance: when the car in front passes something start counting; stop counting when you pass the same something.

Yes, this is a personal agenda that I have great passion for.

AMHERST – Tonight I saw Cirque Du Soleil – Saltimbanco!  The athletes pictured above performed – as best I could tell – without safety rigging: no net, no tether (whatever it’s called), and no hand of God below, just the audience.  I found myself feeling as if my own children were swinging 40 feet in the air, at times one hanging from the other linked only by clasped ankles and feet.  Throughout most of the show the audience told the performers of their pleasure and excitement with hand claps and wordless exclamations, but when these gals ascended by ropes, mounted the trapeze, and danced a seemingly effortless duet, no one inhaled or exhaled for five minutes.  I’m not sure my eyes have ever widened as much as then.  How in heckarini do they do that!  I swear I saw them chatting at one point near the end, not signaling or directing, chatting.  My my my…

The music was live, artistic, and well engineered, i.e. not too loud and properly mixed.  Each instrument was discernible, and never stepped on the other instruments.  Its placement always accompanied the production constructively.  For instance, in moments of great drama the music was more likely to recede or become subtle then to punctuate.  It was never startling, overbearing, or in your face, yet it was always clear and crisp.  Drums, electric keyboards, electric guitar, bass, saxophone, and a number wonderful wonderful singers.

Much much more must be said, but, I must sleep.  Cirque Du Soleil, I shall see you again for sure, you are first class entertainment.

This drawing was crumpled up on the floor.

WEST SPRINGFIELD – “Yup, this really seems like a great place to be: lots of people, lots of science people, a Team teaching approach, and a flag pole that looks like a rocket.”  John Danaher joins Terrier House, West Springfield High School’s 9th grade program, as the science teacher of Team 2.  The House – the 9th grade – is split into three groups each taught by a team comprised of an English, science, math, history, and SPED faculty member.

Said he, ”My impression is that administration is centered on constant improvement through reflection and innovation.”  Uh, way cool – to not just find something that works, but to seek everything that works – and improve all that if need be.

The building is old and could use replacement; it does, however, have lots of character.  Well, on the inside. (No offense to the architects or brick makers.)  It has been retrofitted and expanded for 60 years.

The current plan is for Danaher to teach five sections of physics.

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This is one of the more flattering drawings students have made of me…
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I still have a smile on my face.  Time has been sparse for non-school related things these last two months. 

And as this website shall only be for non-school related things nothing has been ready for publishing. After the school year ends I will create a website with a pseudonym for writings of school related things.

Kate has asked me to vote for the “no more dog racing” initiative petition, I shall, thank you Kate for the reminder.

Bill and Terry are gettin’ hitched, excellent.  - in September…

I will be seeking a teaching position for the fall.

I am behind in everything…  Oh well.

I like my job.

I went to the Smith Green Houses today.

I saw birds today, Wax wings, a dozen, Spring is here… 

That be the nutshell… 

I hope all of you are well. 

The picture is a very long exposure of the window overlooking the UMass Amherst Campus from the Top of the Campus bar. 

This photo shows Mr. Danaher shortly after learning of earning a passing score on the test for educators in Massachusetts. Said he, “YeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeHahh. Now that’s a jolly Christmas.” ∞

Tonight, I slammed on my brakes to not hit the first owl I have ever seen. As I approached my home it swooped right down in front of my car from stage left. Figuring it was still in the trees adjacent to the yard, I parked the car and got the Mag-light. Besides scientists, who birds at night.

The ground was frozen and I was in a hurry – the Patriots/Eagles Game had just begun – unlikely was my approach to be silent. My birding style does not include flushing, i.e. disturbing birds into flying to see them. Did you know birding used to be practiced with a shotgun and not binoculars? Mm hmm.

I scanned the trees with the beam. After but a few rounds the familiar upright blob of black, that never indicates foliage, said “bird” here. It was neither startled nor hurried. After about thirty seconds it lifted, spread its arms like the picture above, and headed straight toward me. It alighted about twenty feet away on a branch about fifteen feet high. The wing span is vast; it looked to wrap me in a cloak. At first I had a foolish thought that it was heading for me. It’s big, but not that big.

Selfishly, rudely, I kept the beam illuminating it to absorb as many details as possible: size of a Red Tail Hawk, striped along the body, no ears tufts, beak like an owl – i.e. a beak not like a hawk. Thirty more seconds and it had enough. As it flew away it hit a small branch. Birds never hit branches. I guess I won’t shine a cop light in a nocturnal animal’s eyes again anytime soon.

Photo by A.J. Hand and stolen from www.friendsofsherwoodisland.org.

Yesterday, someone asked when dad passed away. First I thought about the year, then the time of year. Then I smiled a rather large smile: two years ago, uh, today. Oops.

I think of pops often and no longer with those impressed feelings of grief stricken loss. His memory is quite alive. He had been my best friend, and so much of who I am came from him – and not necessarily by choice.

The above picture was taken on Martha’s Vineyard the day Bill Mueller of the Red Sox hit two grand slams in the same game. How poignant, I had said that baseball had become one dimensional with its new emphasis on home runs and steroids and such. After hearing enough dad said, “There’s nothing wrong with baseball.” The interjection commanded the attention and respect of a tractor trailer truck slowly entering a busy intersection.

The uncropped version of the above photo shows a crucifix above our heads: such angels we.

Miss ya, pops…

MLB will retain Berry Bonds’s stats because – according to MLB Official Rules – once the next pitch is delivered, a contested play is no longer contestable and becomes official record.

I think, ha.

Barry Bonds, and his head, were indicted for perjury Thursday. Humans are impressed by the super human feats of ordinary humans, and not an ordinary human’s super human feet. Mr. Bonds is a thief.

I have no facts before me except my judgment of B.B.’s public character and the as yet to be substantiated claims of Mike Murphy, the Giants’ equipment manager. However, now the government is weighing in, and George Mitchell is a Democrat and a Red Sox fan so the reference is solid. Now, Bonds, his head, and his clown sized cleats are off to court and maybe to jail.

I stayed away from baseball for a number of years because of the dimensionless play brought to the game by the likes of B.B. and M.M. I picked a good time to return these last few years; the Red Sox have two World Series Championships and now steroid abuse is finally being addressed. Maybe now our children can have sports role models with bodies that resemble human beings.

You may be a greedy lot, but that’s at least human.

Note: Patrick Hruby explains in 619* [*No Asterisk Required] why he feels Mr. Bonds’s home run total is closer to 619 – 670.

I am so sad to say, my landlord Debbie did not survive an auto accident. Yesterday, the life sustaining machines were turned off, and shortly after, she passed.

She leaves a loving family – a husband, Bob, and two children, Julia and Andy.

I’ll miss her for a number of reasons:

She let me adopt a cat, Bear, – even though pets are not allowed – which was brought to our complex and left behind. Bear is intelligent, she speaks often and at length, sleeps on my legs, and enlivens an otherwise still and silent home. Like a parent, I love this cat – a gift of Debbie.

For me, this year was superlative for bird watching. One morning this summer, Debbie knocked on my door to point out a Scarlet Tanager, something since childhood I’ve seen only in my books, such a brilliant red – a gift.

And, though she has in me a college student tenant, living on loans disbursed twice yearly and never enough to keep current with rent, she’d tell me, “I trust you.”– A true gift.

On my college graduation day she tied balloons and a greeting card to my front door. I had attended the ceremony alone, with family living in distant lands and my pop having passed away just a few months too early. I remember the smile on my face as I pulled my car into the driveway, the scene was more like a child’s birthday party: the colors and the ribbon, a stark contrast against the white siding, so girly. It was a very nice gift.

And, daily we’d wave hello on our ways to and from work, a gauge that marked the day.

You will be missed very much, Debbie. This place won’t ever be the same.

Peace.

Blast from the past. I took this picture in the mid 70s during a double header, a true double header where both games were close together and the stands were not cleared between games. We had box seats behind the Red Sox dugout. I was not into baseball then as I am now. How I would love to see a game with those seats now.

Jim Rice was chatting with the gent in the foreground, and when I approached to take a picture he smiled and kept tossing the ball. I was so timid, I could have said something or asked for an autograph.

While my eye for composing a frame had not yet developed, I was keen enough to snap when the ball was in the air.

Yes, they lost, both games…

“Sox” 154 lbs, 6′ 2″ born to Beau and Jana Masai giraffes at Boston’s Franklin Park Zoo 10/24/07

Photo released by Zoo New England 10/29/07.

This is the note I sent to a friend in England. She knows nothing of baseball or the Red Sox.

Tonight is game seven of the American League Championship. In case you are unfamiliar: a game seven means the last game of a series where the winner must win 4 out of 7 games. The Red Sox were down 3 games to 1 and things looked bleak. Facing elimination they won 2 in a row to force a game seven, one of the most exciting/exhilarating situations in American baseball.

The last game seven for the Sox was in 2004 when they became the only team in history to overcome a 3-0 deficit, and they did it against the evil empire that is the Yankees no less. They then went on to win the main goal of each sixth month season, the inter-league championship, the World Series. They won that series in 4 straight. The Sox have another record of being the only team to win 8 post season games in a row.

That 2004 experience brought true tears to many Sox fan’s eyes.

While I do not live my days by the fortunes of the home team, so much was – is – encompassed by that 2004 achievement that I too find tears easily welled by the expanse of its scope. Eighty year old fans, around for each and every disappointing falter since the last championship title in 1918, and young fans of teenage years indoctrinated into the gloomy browed mindset that is – was – Red Sox Nation, all together sighed, screamed, and generally freaked-out and collapsed, not for that familiar and ever-eventual failure, but for what was finally achieved – a win. One win. One.

When folks gripe about the Sox now, I say, “You know, 2004 was enough to satisfy me for years.” Each and every time a smile rises to our faces, they pause in reverent thanks, and say, “Yeah.” Then we clink drinks in toast.

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Go Sox, 2007.