New eman blog

all he wrote Posted by Evan Nichols on 7/1/08; 9:55:59 PM from the dept. Comment [0]

The Zen of Mboy & Smellicious

Mboy and I were discussing the possibility of rain. He looked at me in great seriousness. Then he said, "Papa, if it starts raining it is raining." Mboy and I were saying our goodnights. He smiled at me in the half dark room. "Papa," he said, "If you open your eyes you are not sleeping." Meanwhile, I paid no attention while Mgirl took a white sheet of paper and dabbled it with water. I didn't really blink when she retreated to the herb garden and crouched, chatting with the garden fairy who rises from a stake in the ground and keeps watch over the plants. I was distracted when she returned to her wet paper with bits of rosemary, lavendar and Mexican sage. I focused on getting them in pajamas while she folded and rolled up the paper and tied it with red ribbon. It didn't hit me 'til she held it out, a finished project, and said, "Smell this. It's a present for our friends [now staying with us]." I smelled and it was wonderful. We decided to call it a smellicious. Among many undiscovered uses, we are targeting people with babies with diapers. Bury it under the diapers, leave it on the changing table, and carry another one in your diaper bag. Smellicious, by Mgirl. Posted by Evan Nichols on 5/30/08; 9:03:59 PM from the The Papa Journal dept. Comment [0]

Fire Drill

Please note a new podcast on the player (on the right side). This is the first in a new series (? OK, maybe just this one), inspired by a student teacher named Patrick. I taught his group of student teachers how to goof around with GarageBand and he taught me a great possible application. It's a genre I shall for now call "This Americana." The theme is early teaching stories. Posted by Evan Nichols on 5/6/08; 9:49:55 PM from the e man audio dept. Comment [0]

MGirl House

Posted by Evan Nichols on 5/6/08; 5:29:05 PM from the The Papa Journal dept. Comment [1]

Prowling the Confines

Monday yard duty is never my idea of a good time, but I had reasonable hopes for today. After all, the fifth graders headed off in a bus this morning for a week of science camp. That meant 50 some fewer bodies, a drop in the average age and, some would say, a reduction of criminal intelligence (but I would never say that and if I ever catch those "some" I will bench them). The thinned crowd was probably the main reason I was able to pick up the movement of three boys moving stealthily along the perimeter of the yard. They were third graders, but I didn't know their names. They were keeping their eyes down, not smiling They were up to something. I waited for them to pass nearby and then I approached them. "Hi boys. What are you doing?" "Nothing," they said, bowing their heads and moving quickly past me. They moved into the corner of the yard, behind the play structure, near the cage. They seemed to be planning a prison break. When they made their next move, heading south towards the water fountain, I cut them off. "Have a seat boys," I said, gesturing to the bench. "I want to talk to you for a minute." I sat down on the bench with them. "You guys are wondering around. You're not playing four square or basketball or races. You look really unhappy. What's going on?" "Looking for ants," mumbled one. "I found a beatle," said another. "And a grasshopper," said the third. For a brief moment their faces flickered with excitement, but then quickly settled back into what I now realized were dour faces of scientific inquiry. These were three professors, strolling the grounds, discussing the latest breakthroughs in entymology! "Quite right, quite right, ol' chap. That is a fine specimen of dissosteira carolina and I'm very surprised to find one in this region..." Either that, or they were planning some sort of recess heist. In either case, the "looking for ants" thing was brilliant. Carry on, boys! Carry on! Posted by Evan Nichols on 5/5/08; 9:15:54 PM from the The Teacher's Pockets dept. Comment [0]

She Reads, I Think

Tonight, another historical marker (this just in). Minutes ago, M-girl was found still awake in her bunk bed. What was she doing? Reading her chapter book. She told her mama she had read all the chapters but one and couldn't she please just finish the last chapter?! We thought it was cute and maybe even exciting that M-girl has been staring at chapter books recently, trying to figure them out. We didn't know she was going to go ahead and really start reading them. The good news is, she need never be bored again. The good news was, she wasn't really ever bored before. The bad news is, she's going to be heck-a-tired in the morning. Meanwhile, I should record, here, M-boy's quote from a couple days ago, just so I don't forget it. He emerged from the house (I was out back), wearing a box, with a hole cut out of the front, on his head. I said, "Are you an astronaut?" He said, "No, I have a box on my head." I don't know why, but I can't stop laughing about that one. I guess you have to have the context that here is a boy who might at any moment announce, "No, I can't sit at the table because I'm a kitty-cat." Lastly, I want to give a shout out to my homegirl, Henrietta, up in Seattle, because she has this blog on her whatchyamahoozit so that whenever I post something new she gets notice of it (thus, a new post). Plus, if you didn't hear the news, Henrietta married Sir J the Lute Maker. 'Sup, J-Lute? Lute Dog? Congrats, you crazy kids. Posted by Evan Nichols on 5/4/08; 10:45:25 PM from the The Papa Journal dept. Comment [0]

Where Cats Wear Bells

In this day and age of neighborhood societies and rules and regulations on how you trim your hedge, I had a very refreshing Earth Day today on my block. We started the day with neighbors gathering in the front yard/driveway of a central neighbor, people from up the block and down the block, eating donuts and drinking orange juice, chatting. Then the first tour kicked in. A neighbor down the street led us into his back yard and showed us his chickens. He showed us the house he built for them, the plank they walk to lay their eggs, the watertight lid that comes down over that egg laying area and more. He fielded questions about raccoons and poop and feed and more. I stood there with an enthusiastic bunch of neighbors. My takeaway fact was this: you don't need a rooster to make eggs you can eat. Pass it on. It maybe prove important. From there we went to see another neighbor's fruit trees. The kids all loaded up on lemons while we toured a back yard with the promise of apricots, apples and plums. At this point, a neighbor asked all cat-owners to please put bells on their cats to protect the neighborhood birds. Next a neighbor stood in front of her yard and pointed to her VW Golf and explained the wonders of biodiesel as well as her plans for making her own (she currently fuels up in Berkeley). Then she talked to us in great detail about her solar panels and gave handy tips like putting your appliances on a powerstrip so you can turn them all the way off when you don't need them. From there we went to a neighbor's yard to watch her stir her compost and to gaze a her sun dried clothes, hanging from the line. They've had no dryer for three years. Suddenly everyone was encouraging each other to dry more clothes outside. The smell of sun dried sheets and pillows is rumored to be out of this world. Another neighbor took us up the many steps of his back yard, talked about the wonders of lemon grass, showed us his turtle, showed us a big deck, halfway up the hill, under big trees, where I would gladly spend the rest of my days, playing guitar and sipping a nice cold drink. At the top of the yard we saw his garden and talked about the merits of gardening with your children. Takeway fact: wasps eat potato bugs which eat your garden so leave those wasps alone. Other takeway reminder: crush up egg shells and make circle of stuff to protect plant from slugs/snails. Not bad, Oakland. Happy Earth Day! Posted by Evan Nichols on 4/19/08; 9:26:35 PM from the The Writer's Notebook dept. Comment [0]

Singin' in the Rain

Posted by Evan Nichols on 2/20/08; 11:10:32 PM from the Fruitvale Cinema dept. Comment [0]

The Secret Thing

MBoy: "Mama, I have a secret thing to tell you." Mama: "What is the secret thing?" "It is an idea." "What's the idea?" "I'm gonna bring a wion (lion) and a horsie to my school and bonk my head." -- Observations on the MBoy dialect these days: All Purpose Ending: "bonked my head." As in, "I went to the store and I bonked my head." Or, "Today I saw a choochoo and I bonked my head." Gets you out of pretty much any verbal jam. Just think if Bush decided to bring the troops home tomorrow, he could say, "I thought that we could establish a stable democracy but I bonked my head." End of story. "I thought they had Weapons of Mass Destruction but I really bonked my head." Most Used Noun: "eyeball." As in, "Today I ate eyeball soup." Or, "I want a peanutbutter and eyeball sambich." Most Shockingly Amusing Mispronunciation that Really Gets Your Attention: "sambich." As in, "I want a sambich." Or, "Just handover the sambich." Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/31/08; 9:04:49 PM from the The Papa Journal dept. Comment [0]

Ballot Recommendations

Some people do the research. Some people don't care. Most people have a source and reply almost exclusively on that source. Here is my source for most ballot decision-making, my brother-in-law, Bill. Why should you trust his opinions? 'Cause my boy's wicked smart (that's possibly verbatim from "Good Will Hunting" by the way). Best of al, he gives reasons! Now if only I could get my third graders to explain their math answers like this. Just point and click (it's on my sister, Sara's, blog, which is full of good reading). Bill Magavern's Ballot Recommendations Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/30/08; 9:06:08 PM from the The Writer's Notebook dept. Comment [0]

Rain

I've just posted perhaps my first ever instrumental composition. It's called "rain," and it took all of five minutes, but what is interesting about it for me is that I sat down with the guitar, played a guitar track, strumming a little diddy. Then I recorded a second track, listening to the first track and picking some notes to go with the strums. Then I tried a third track where I beat out a rhythm on the guitar. Luckily, cooler heads prevailed and I remembered I have no rhythm so that that third track was quickly zapped and what survived is now ready for your listening on the podcast player somewhere over to the right (as you'll hear, I couldn't be bothered to find an ending). Ya gotta start small, right? Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/25/08; 10:35:45 PM from the e man audio dept. Comment [0]

Too Much Screen, Not Enough Page

I don't want to blog tonight. I want to read my book. Have a wonderful Friday! Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/24/08; 10:23:59 PM from the The Writer's Notebook dept. Comment [0]

always

always write write to clarify to try words on and off flip them up like lenses zinging out to outer space write to personify the digits to exercise the mind the fingers the voice that spins off through the midnight void write to find who you are and what you think about the rolling roiling foaming froth of your day and the upcoming stumble into another varied disarray write to break through and reconnect communication lines with old friends new friends family yourself all the living going on the shelf old friends new friends family yourself write to hear the music to rise over the dark ridge and soar through the midnight always always write to stand up and let the sheep count you awake to be the vertical and time will come back again slowly easing into the gaps time will flow back with the tide and ease the disquiet and unknowing and you out there in the lightning Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/23/08; 1:18:46 AM from the The Writer's Notebook dept. Comment [0]

The Lone Reindeer

The lone reindeer wanders through the small forest a new forest grown from ashes (an old forest gone so soundly with a zap of electric lightning) On his head the antlers (seen from the window of a cabin where children have just made mincemeat of wrapping paper and now crawl across the floor with trains and sit in chairs, reading and combing tiny heads of hair and applying glitter to glue to paper) The reindeer is alone because he had had enough and he told Santa so He had got education those 11 1/2 months off (while everyone else obsessed about sports and fawns) he read Malcolm X So one Christmas Day while his buddies were sleeping it off He left a message scratched by antlers on Santa's door "No more pulling for the man." and headed off across the longest meadow he would ever cross in search of the hype and the counter-narrative Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/20/08; 10:46:46 PM from the The Writer's Notebook dept. Comment [0]

Hawk

This morning I was walking down a street in Berkeley. I had just found a broken parking meter, the sun was shining, life was good. Up ahead I saw a woman pushing a cart of recycleables. She checked a bin in front of an apartment building and then shuffled on to the next. Suddenly, she stopped and stared up at the sky. I crossed the street and headed past her on the other side. Still, I could hear her talking to herself or possibly to someone else, possibly to me. I glanced over. She was still staring at the sky. I looked up. On the telephone wire, directly above me, was an absolutely beautiful hawk. "Do you think he's a red tail?" she called over. I looked and saw no red tail. "I don't know," I said, enthusiasm creeping into my voice. "He's here because of the field," she called back. I had just been admiring the well groomed rows, some horticultural wing of UC, no doubt. "Little mousies." Just then the hawk lifted off and flew to the top of a greenhouse. Something dazzling about his simple leap. As I turned to head up the street, I heard the anonymous woman pushing a recycling cart say, "Thank you, Mr. Hawk." Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/19/08; 11:45:22 PM from the The Writer's Notebook dept. Comment [0]

Did you say, "Charrette?"

Today I learned what a charrette is, or at least what we think it is, we being me and some other people. They were the ones who told me about the whole charrette thing, that I mentioned earlier. Oh, what is it? Um, let me think. Oh yeah! A charrette is this great way to structure a discussion. Let's say you're trying to come up with an idea for your next story to write because you're a writer who writes stories and you don't have an idea for your next story. Then you think back to the first paragraph and the second word of this paragraph and say, "Oh yeah! I can do a charrette!" Then you're on to a new paragraph because your friend is there and he says, "A what?" He looks at you funny because you said something kind of sissy and even though he knows you are kind of a sissy he's a bit surprised that you're that much of a sissy that you're talking about that thing you talked about in the last paragraph (and the first one). So you say, "A charrette is this great way to structure a discussion," and you quickly, not giving him a chance to interrupt or make fun of you, and not giving yourself a chance to ramble or digress or never get to the point, get to the point. First 10 minutes: you talk about your idea(s), throw them all out there, while your group listens. Next 3 minutes: they ask clarifying questions. Next 10 minutes: your groups talks, and you listen, about what they heard you say and what they think about it. Final 2 or was it 3 minutes: you summarize what you heard them say that resonated and focus your sights on the actual idea(s) you are after. Simple, right? Try a charrette tomorrow. You'll never go back. Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/18/08; 9:22:46 PM from the The Teacher's Pockets dept. Comment [0]

I Have a D, Revised

Here's a revised version of something I wrote last year, now with audio! Check out the podcast to your right! In honor of Martin Luther King Jr. I Have a D by "ML Little K" (OK, me) USA listen up to your creed words are words and deeds are deeds The time is now stop waiting for the sequel "All men are created equal!" Free at last! As crazy as it seems Free at last! It starts with a dream Down in Alabama little boys and girls holding hands in a brand new world So do not judge by the color of their skin but who they are deep down within So let freedom ring let it sound the bell let it shake the cities and break the spell Free at last! As crazy as it seems Free at last! It starts with a dream Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/17/08; 10:28:10 PM from the e man audio dept. Comment [0]

The Deeper Sandwich

Today was a one-on-one day with the boy. He was home with a fever and I managed to land a sub. I started the day off, briefly checking email while he tugged two cardboard boxes around the house as his choo-choo. Even though he was happy to be playing train, his every other word seemed to be "Papa." After asking him to give me a minute three additional times, I finally wised up, closed the computer, and began to play with him. It's a basic truth of parenting that I have to periodically rediscover: it's harder (and a lot more unpleasant for all involved) to ignore your kids than to listen and be present and enjoy them. It's one of those things where there is resistance for a reason. It's trying to tell you something. We had a lovely morning. We read books. We built up the towers and bridges of the "marble game" and sent marbles racing down and across after each other. We giggled. We had rare father-son time with no big sister about, demanding her share of the attention. But that's not why I've come here to this spot on the digital breezeway to talk to you today. I wanted to speak of lunch. The boy was sitting there, talking away, over his sandwich. I wanted him to eat the sandwich because I wanted him to start his nap so I could stop being present and listening (this was four hours later, you see). I said, "Can you take a bite of your sandwich?" "Yeah," he said, enthusiastically. "I'll bite it for you and for me!" He then took a big bite. I thought, 'That's really deep. He understands, on some level, that I really want him to eat his sandwich. Not only that, he's willing to do it for me. At the same time, he's doing it for himself.' While I was sitting there, marveling at my son's brilliance, he reached into his mouth and pulled out a slimy piece of bread and turkey, all rolled up in spit and mayo. "Here you go, Papa," he said. So that's what he meant. Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/16/08; 9:46:57 PM from the The Papa Journal dept. Comment [0]

Good Reads

Oh, sorry I didn't write earlier. I was social-networking. Yeah, you know, the whole Web 2.0 thing. Oh, on one of my sites; adding to my profile, adding friends, checking people out. Hunh, where? Facebook? MySpace? No, Goodreads.com. When my friend Annie told me about Goodreads, I decided to check it out (uh oh, this sounds like an infomercial). You list books you like to read, with or without reviews, and then you connect with other people who like similar books, and you find out books you should read next. It's kind of like the evil, annoying but somewhat useful Amazon corporate trick: "People who bought this also bought" without you directly selling your soul for a good buy. That doesn't mean all my book reviews aren't being sent straight to corporate headquarters. Hmm... When I first signed up it said, "Welcome! You have zero books and zero friends." I signed off, devastated, and went back to reading a real book. Tonight, however, I decided to poke around. I recently added a flurry of reviews and I wanted to go on and see if I could root up some good book recommendations. After you add a book you like to "My Books" you can then see everyone else who has added it to their book lists. If you like what they have to say about it, you can then check out what other books they have on their list and what they've said about them. Pretty cool, except I spent an hour tonight searching goodreads when I should have been in bed already, reading a book (remember books?). The other problem is that I kept running into these spiritual self-help book cul-de-sacs with nothing I was really interested in. However, I am still intrigued and will continue to push on. I see this as my chance to try out a mellower version of a social network to give me at least the tiniest insight into what these youngsters are up to today. I realize that this is nothing like the real insanity, but it's a start. You should check it out. We need you. Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/14/08; 10:27:29 PM from the The Writer's Notebook dept. Comment [0]

Look Pa, No Hands!

This morning, M2 helped me buy some groceries at the ever wonderful Farmer Joe's. On the way back up the stairs to our house, I found myself lugging several bags and couldn't reach down for the paper. "Could you bring the paper?" I asked to M2, who was climbing the stairs slowly behind me, his hands thrust proudly into his little blue sweatjacket pockets (he'd just discovered that he could do that.) "No," he replied. "Why not?" "Because I don't know where my hands are." Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/13/08; 9:16:35 PM from the The Papa Journal dept. Comment [0]

Reed Pipe Dance

Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/12/08; 5:27:17 PM from the Fruitvale Cinema dept. Comment [0]

I Am Sam

Please note I have posted my second podcast, "Sam I Am." Just click on the title over there on the player on the right side. It is weird, yes, but in my defense it harkens back to my high school days. My friend, Trout, had a record or maybe it was his friend, Robbie's (who later slept in his car and built his own digital music recording box in, oh, '91 or something like that?). On this record was someone reading "Green Eggs and Ham." And I swear it was set to jazz. We used to get a big kick out of playing the record at the faster speed and listening to it like a hip song (OK, I did it once, but those guys probably did it thousands of times, I tell ya). Anyway, I thought of that as I read the book to the kids tonight and here's the best I could do with GarageBand. It's sort of Miles Davis meets Dr. Seuss meets Jaws from James Bond. Enjoy! Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/10/08; 10:03:41 PM from the e man audio dept. Comment [0]

Pen in Pocket

Papa, she says, holding up a book, can you write property of M- and M- in it? She turns to her mama to explain. Papa usually carries a pen in his pocket. Sometimes when he reads me a story he leaves me a pen in my bed. -- Papa, he says, look how big I am. He stands up in his chair. I tell him he is big. He sits down, happy. Why did communication ever get more difficult than that? You're at work. You're mad about something. You say to your colleague, "Bob, look how mad I am." He says, "You are mad." You sit down, happy. Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/9/08; 8:40:29 PM from the The Papa Journal dept. Comment [0]

Yosemite Slideshow

Here's the result of a recent hike I took in Yosemite (to a place my family has always called, "Indian Rock"), snapping pictures and scribbling notes as I went. This area of Yosemite was burned in a huge fire in 1990 but is making a lovely recovery. The medium I am using here is uploading photos to Picasa via my gmail account and then embedding that slideshow here in my blog. If anyone knows a way to more seamlessly create a slideshow on your blog, please let me know! Slideshow Tip: If you run the arrow over the bottom of the slideshow window you'll see controls. Click on the pause button and then use the arrows to advance at the pace you want. Please Note: Monday and Tuesday, for the time being, shall be my blog weekend; Monday because it's Monday and Tuesday because we do Blackout Tuesdays. Tune in Wednesday for the next installment of the e man chronicles. Have a surprisingly smooth and quick Monday. Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/6/08; 8:11:56 PM from the e man's eyeballs dept. Comment [0]

Reading the Road

A student gave me a $15 Borders gift card so we made a trip. I found The Road by Cormac McCarthy (as recommended, for not the first time, in Rudolf's Readers) for $14.95, which would have worked out a nickel-shy of perfect except apparently there's something called tax. Last night I began reading. I began reading way too late in the night, as per my lifelong pattern of self-abuse wherein I stare at a screen in the late hours (used to be M*A*S*H and Love Boat, now it's gmail and my blog) when I should be reading, then read when I should be sleeping, then wake up with mental illness when I should be refreshed. The book is amazing and terrible, just like they said. I finally put it down around 1 a.m. and tried to go to sleep. The problem was, I was now trying to go to sleep in a post-apocalyptic world. The little boy's voice in the book kept coming back to me, "Are we safe, Papa?" I was cold, I was starving, I was in danger. Finally I realized I couldn't go to sleep on that note, so I got up and read the funnies. Funny thing about the funnies. Have you noticed how much technology has crept into them? Dagwood, of Blondie, Dagwood for godssakes, was discussing the stress caused by clearing out room on his Tivo. Dagwood. Used to be all he needed was an overflowing sandwich and a good couch. For Better or Worse had Photoshop as the punchline. I got up and staggered into another room. Amy had brought home the new Christopher Guest movie from the library. I popped it in and watched. The usual band of characters. Still, they made me laugh enough that after a while I was able to go to sleep. When I awoke, I was exhausted and thinking about The Road. I grabbed the book and read hungrily until they finally found a little food. I put it down and started my day. As Michelle Shocked says, "The secret to a long life is knowing when it's time to go." Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/5/08; 11:07:37 AM from the The Writer's Notebook dept. Comment [0]

Solar Grooviness

It's time for a podcast*. Here's an early draft of a sun song, gearing up for our next science unit in third grade. Click on "Solar Grooviness" and scroll down to follow along. Click here to get your own player. There's a big ball of fire hanging in the sky but no one seems to scream or shout or break down and cry They just  pop on their shades rub on the lotion, watch the sun drop into the ocean, rub their eyes at the next sunrise & stroll off to work like they're not surprised There's a big ball of fire right above our heads if it falls down here, man that's it, we're dead But They just  pop on their shades rub on the lotion watch the sun drop into the ocean rub their eyes at the next sunrise & stroll off to work like they're not surprised There's a big ball of fire burning all day long It's more terrifying than ol' King Kong But They just  pop on their shades rub on the lotion watch the sun drop into the ocean rub their eyes at the next sunrise & stroll off to work like they're not surprised *How is a podcast different from just uploading audio tracks, like I've done before? One, the audio is stored elsewhere (I'm using a free site called Podomatic). Two, I can post other episodes and they'll pop up magically on the podcast player. Three, you can click the little Add to iTunes link and actually subscribe to even a low-tech podcast like this one. Then, when you open iTunes it will go and grab the latest episode for you. Let me know if you can't make it play! Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/4/08; 7:43:52 PM from the e man audio dept. Comment [0]

The Girl Wants a Princess

The girl wants a princess Why won't they give her a princess? All she wants is a princess Is that too much to ask? She writes secret letters to Santa getting the spelling off her princess pajamas (her grandma smuggled those in past customs) She just wants to brush her hair Not her hair but HER hair She wants to change her clothes She wants to accessorize Let her go down that road Yes, she'll internalize it a little Yes, she'll find herself imperfect Probably she'll turn to chocolate, gateway drug to so much more She'll get heavily into Nascar Racing for a while Vote Republican Perhaps start trading babies on the black market But the girl wants a princess Why won't they give her a princess? She'll talk sweetly for her Make plans for a dynamic queendom Like no cars allowed, bicycles only And block parties every day Yes she will feel a certain psychic discomfort as she heads deeper into dirty blonde and farther away from princess white Yes, she will never quite wave right never meet that prince or other princess with the perfect wave and hair She may get heavily into online video games creating a perfect blonde warrior queen who slashes her way through relationships with an evil lol But all that will be worked out in her Intro to Fem class, freshperson year So give the girl a princess legalize the princess  and crush the rebellion with kindness and your state-sanctioned smile Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/3/08; 9:27:22 PM from the The Papa Journal dept. Comment [0]

Obstagoals

I was talking with my sister, moments ago, about something that I feel stops me from doing the writing I would like to do. I won't go into what it was because she quickly showed me why that and most so-called obstacles are really just excuses. You can do great writing now (maybe not right now, but now), just call this toll-free number. So I reclassified that obstacle to a goal. Instead of something that prevents me from doing what I want to do, I can think of it as something that will make me even better at doing what I am going to do right now. I now see this as an obstagoal: a perceived roadblock suddenly transformed into a possible cheery destination. I need to tighten up the definition a bit, but you get the picture, maybe. So, friends, what are your obstacles? Hadn't you better flip that switch and POOF transform them into obstagoals? Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/2/08; 11:59:14 PM from the The Writer's Notebook dept. Comment [1]

Little Russian Dancer

Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/2/08; 8:50:18 PM from the Fruitvale Cinema dept. Comment [0]

34 Minutes Into the New Year

It's 34 minutes into the new year, as I start this, but now it's already 35 (I stopped to consider writing about distant gunfire, but I don't hear it anymore, but then there's artistic license, but then there's Oakland's already tarnished rep to consider...and then it was 35). Now it's 36 minutes into the new year. These things really move. 36 minutes into the new year, man, and WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE??!! I've watched the last vignette of "Night On Earth" by Jim Jarmusch. That's the one in Sweden when the rough and tough (and drunk) factory workers compare bad luck stories with the driver, Mika. It's ends in hugs, of course, and a guy sitting in the snow, clutching his severance pay. The credits roll, Tom Waits sings. 39 minutes into the new year and I took my sleeping daughter (she was sleeping sideways again) to sit on the potty. There's a certain science, no art, no, farm knowledge, no, midwifery, er doulaship, well skill, yes, skill. It takes skill to talk your sleeping zombie child into a good midnight tinkle, but I'm not going to go into that. WHY NOT?!  Because, my friend, that's potty talk. It's 42 mother of earth minutes into the new year and I've eaten vanilla heath bar crunch with a dash or two of creamy peanutbutter. The cream is from Vermont, I think. Should we boycott Ben & Jerry's if we don't live in or near Vermont? I'm think it's not the localvore way to go. WHAT'S A... You know, you know, eating locally, cutting into those transportation costs. The ice cream trucker pulls over to fill up his tanks, the bomber slows to drop its bomb over the Middle East. It's pretty much a one to one kind of thing. I know where this is going. I tell you about a localish company and you tell me how they use cream from Afghanistan and they get their seaweed from Antartica. You take a certain delight in popping those balloons. But that's not it, man. It's not about polar extremities. It's about moving in that direction. It's about trying to do better. It's about making conscious choices, no matter how compromised, because then you plant the seeds of vision. Soon you're harvesting ripe momentum. It's 48 minutes into the new year and I've blogged already, just like I said I would. Good night on earth. Oh, but one last thing about that. I was thinking, if the Earth is spinning through space because it broke away from something and it keeps spinning because of little or no friction in space, won't it eventually, ever-so-slightly, begin to slow down its spin? As the spin gets slower, the hours in a "day" increases. According to my calculations, a million years from now we're looking at a 25 hour day. That's why I'm selling all my stock in the 24 Hour Fitness company but simultaneously buying up the remaining inventory of 24 Hour Fitness t-shirts. The retro sales price on that is going to be out of this world. You heard it here first, 53 minutes into the year 2008. Posted by Evan Nichols on 1/1/08; 12:53:41 AM from the The Writer's Notebook dept. Comment [1]

January Cometh Again

Some people write in their blog daily. Others write a few times or maybe just once a week. I write in my blog in January. The last two years I told myself if I wrote every day in January it would create this incredible momentum for writing throughout the year. The actual result was that by February I was too exhausted to write any more. This year I vow again to post creative work on my blog every day in January. Well, let's say five days a week, so I can still have Blackout Tuesdays with the family as well as day off here and there. It may be all writing, it may be photo essays, it may be original folk songs, well not folk, tragicomic folk? How about nano folk, just to keep it modern and new and interesting? It may have some podcasting, some Fruitvale cinema, who knows? The important thing is that it will be a month of reflection, of setting up my web to catch as many ideas buzzing around my brain as possible. Then I will show you the ideas. Then I will eat them (or at least suck the blood out of them). Tune in tomorrow for day one of the eman nano blog, new and improved for 2008! Posted by Evan Nichols on 12/31/07; 2:01:05 PM from the The Writer's Notebook dept. Comment [0]

First Podcast Attempt

I'm just experimenting here, once again, with podcasting. My (and Sequoia Elementary's) First Ever Podcast! Click here to get your own player. Posted by Evan Nichols on 12/8/07; 2:41:44 PM from the e man's eyeballs dept. Comment [0]

Practice Slideshow

I would love to be able to embed a slideshow in my blog. Wouldn't you? Who wouldn't? Nobody. --Here's a test from slide.com Posted by Evan Nichols on 12/1/07; 6:14:05 PM from the e man's eyeballs dept. Comment [0]

Letter to Santa

"I couldn't spell what I wanted so I just put what I didn't want." -girl M Posted by Evan Nichols on 11/25/07; 12:55:41 PM from the The Papa Journal dept. Comment [0]

Bees in Rosemary

It is very difficult to get a close up of a bee. This is round one. Oh, but it's not over. Posted by Evan Nichols on 11/14/07; 12:48:17 PM from the e man's eyeballs dept. Comment [0]

Shoes For Three

Sometimes you feel as if a pair of shoes were missing from the stack. Posted by Evan Nichols on 11/10/07; 8:33:09 PM from the e man's eyeballs dept. Comment [0]

Starry Night

by The Girl September, 2007 Posted by Evan Nichols on 10/18/07; 12:58:04 PM from the The Papa Journal dept. Comment [0]

Cleaning Out My In Box

Cleaning out my in box brings me a sudden joy the sun begins to shine in that perfect 5 shades of green way I stroll down organized streets with neat wood piles and polite kids Cleaning out my in box takes care of urban crime teaches the squirrels to pick up their dropped acorns and scattered brown crinkly oak leaves The cars are slowing down on the boulevard waving long arms in front of the long hood after you cleaning out my in box the boo radley house down the street is getting a paint job and new neighbors are moving in with perfect smiles easy dispositions excellent politics and nothing but good, sweet natured common sense Cleaning out my in box I feel I can move forward in the world knees bent balls of my feet leaning into that blurry hum of things to come my hand ready when called alive  to delete or archive Posted by Evan Nichols on 9/29/07; 3:11:05 PM from the The Writer's Notebook dept. Comment [0]

Magic Wollipop

Posted by Evan Nichols on 8/28/07; 7:20:37 PM from the Fruitvale Cinema dept. Comment [0]

Penguins, etc.

I had heard a rumor that a new student in my class was fond of penguins. I forgot about it. Then, on the first, day, there he stood at the back table, scanning the choices for a book to bring home. Here's what he said to himself, as overheard my student teacher: "How you gonna not have a book on penguins?!" In other news, my daughter, after her first day of kindergarden, asked, "When's it going to be tomorrow?" Bring it on, baby. In still other news, the k-2 play structure was completed today. Small children were swarming it. Big children were there, saying, "Ah, it's better than ours." The thing that worries me is that the monkey bars are higher than the ones on the supposed big kid structure. Something's up and it's not the big kids. Could someone have switched the structures? Ordered wrong? Stay tuned. Posted by Evan Nichols on 8/28/07; 2:09:04 PM from the The Teacher's Pockets dept. Comment [0]

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