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#3 — Pre-Conference Posted March 15, 2001, 12:12 AM Wednesday, Denver. My hotel room seems vast and expansive. I feel almost compelled to go out and buy some additional furniture. We could use an coffee table near the couch. And a recliner. A recliner would be nice. Eric's room is smaller by comparison. A normal-sized hotel room, but compared to the bounty of my space it is more likely to be shopping in the petite shops than Lane Bryant. And yet, for its smaller size, Eric's room seems so much more vibrant and active than my vacuous space, yearning for more furniture. Eric says that this is because of the little known law of spatial hyperactivity. Eric says that in a smaller space, furniture is known to vibrate and move about to give the illusion of excitement in an attempt to confuse and hyponotize dwellers into a faulty sense of bounty. This little known law of physics, the first law of spatial hyperactivity, states that as a space becomes smaller, the furniture contained therein becomes more hyperactive, occasionally leading to small puffs of cotton and singing mice. Mday may not be able to sleep tonight. 9:00 to 12:30, Plaza Court 6 I am a participant in a half-day workshop, but my mind wanders. As my colleagues talk wisely about creating great syllabi, great writing assignments, and wonderful ways to respond to student writing, I am scribbling nonsense. fire love hope sex death puppy sappy familial is r way of saying familiar potential newscaster of the new banana mole snooze Tell Danny to oil up that glove. Daddy will be home in a bit. my only goal is peace and harmony, and a good double mocha. Fredo says starbuck's is across the street. She is a good choice, Fredo says. Though, Fredo cautions, the line is long and there may be a wait. Why are you here, I ask? Don't you belong back in that yard in Missouri? Fredo replies, I am wherever the sun is high in the sky, seen or unseen, i am there and i am what i can be whenever there is what is known to those with the way of the heart of the goose and the knowledge of the sledge. It is a fact that not even pepper spray can erase. As Sands through the hourglass pass, so are the days of our lives. We are given a writing assignment. We are to write the sentence or paragraph that will sell our course design to the curriculum review board. I compose mine: Because I am the queen of all I survey, the shaper of the universe, the one and true teacher known to humankind, all I say and do is writ in gold and must be done as prophesied or all students will fall into the peril of unsatisfactory performance when subjected to rigorous testing. I shall go forth and teach. They shall learn. PEDAGOGY FOREVER!!! The Sands blow dunefully at my reading. I am what is politely called "off task." 1:30 to 5:00, the exhibit hall Eric says it's time to setup the Tech Center. There is a great carrying forth of boxes and bags and whirlygigs. As the TV travels through the halls again, Eric wears surgical scrubs and mask. "Germs," he says to passers by. The equipment in the exhibit hall, Eric changes back to his more normal clothes. The scrubs no longer necessary. Look traci, he says, I fastened my velcro shoes all by myself. The occupants of all surrounding booths let forth a collective gasp, then a great silence, broken after several seconds by applause which grows to a standing ovation. (No, not my guitar. I left that at home.) Proudly, Eric waves to the crowd like Dwight D. Eisenhower, proclaiming victory. As we begin distributing the equipment, Eric unveils his twisty tie organization system. Like pieces of equipment are grouped together and fastened in a bundle with a long twisty tie. Eric says that this new system is called electrowire bondage management. The wire in the twisty tie is electrically charged. If the bundled equipment attempts to escape, it receives a shock akin to a that which Jacques Cousteau receives when he disturbs a nesting electric eel. This teaches equipment to stay where it belongs, Eric says. Cousteau is dead, I note. Eric says, he is shocked nonetheless. Eric disappears under a table. Wiring, he says. We are no longer in Kansas. This is Oz, and Eric is the wizard behind the curtain, well, under the table if you want to be literal about it. Eric seems to spend a lot of time under the tables. There are a lot of wire, he says. Later, he divulges that he was napping. The pressure is too much. Eric naps while I stand and rearrange computers and tables. How unfair! A passing cart drops a small sheet of bubble wrap. I leap, I jump, I do the bubble wrap dance, popping and popping and popping the bubbles in a frenzied fit. Get jiggy with it, Eric says, and he vogues a few moves himself. We wait on phone lines. Eric does his Dwight D. Eisenhower Statuary Stance (TM), but to no avail. Union folk don't really care about Statuary Stances. There can be no Internet without the phone lines. Waiting for Godot has a more favorable outcome. We give up and make plans for dinner. 7:00, the Rocky Mountain Diner We return. Eric is lured by the Campfire Rocky Mountain Rainbow Trout with Red Chili Rice. Eric says we cannot have Yuppie-I-O Dip tonight. We must save it for tomorrow. I weep, but listen to my noble leader. I ask, and the truth is revealed. A forgotten Tamagotchi. Someone must be disciplined. Eric doesn't come with a little remote control, so I punish him by taking away his microbrew and making him drink a Budweiser. He will not abandon and neglect the Tamagotchi again. It wallows in poop, no one to send the duck. Bad Eric. Bad Boy. Eric ignores the punishment but says that we must eat quickly. I believe that he feels remose and wants to hurry back to the Tamagotchi. Eric says, that has nothing to do with it. Eric says, Slowing down the pace, being laid back, is just a sign of someone with nothing to do. I'm a moover and a shaker, he says. I don't have time for rest stops and sitting around. 10:00, Adam's Mark My roommate returns from the Nuggets-Pacers game. She has overheard indiscreet discussions of discreet limo rides. My roommate blushes and averts her eyes. Since denver is the mile high city, can you join the mile high club without leaving the ground? Tomorrow, the Tech Center opens. But what about the fringes? Those divided by the digital divide. If all else fails, Eric says that we can give everyone a Mercedes. Till tomorrow, dear reader. |
