Why You Should listen to the StoryPirates’ Podcasts!

The picture Emery submitted to Story Pirates for "Trash Day"

If you’ve read more than one of my blog posts, then you know I spend a lot of time criticizing Emery for not being motivated to do the things I think he should be motivated to do. And, I think I’ve mentioned his approach (or lack thereof) to writing. Well, the truth is, when Emery’s motivated to write, he works really hard at it (I’ll do a post later on what Emery is motivated to write). This is a story of one of those times and the role the StoryPirates played in getting Emery to write.

I’m a huge fan of SiriusSM radio (I’ve listened to Seth Rudetsky for years, even when he was on XM and he’s the primary reason I continue to subscribe to satellite radio), but our second favorite station is Kids Place Live. We often listen to the Absolutely Mindy Show in the afternoons and especially love the Story Pirates. The Story Pirates is a performance/ educational group of storytellers who, among other things, take children’s stories and turn them into skits for the radio. And their performances are creative, hilarious, and professional.

One day there was an advertisement for listeners to submit original stories about their own made-up holidays. Emery started talking about how he would create trash day. Of course, I had to hold myself back from offering my advice as he sat down at the table that weekend and wrote a draft of his story. I then let him sit down at the computer and type it in (again, I didn’t change a thing, even though I didn’t quite get the humor) and scanned in his picture of a group of trash bags, one of which had a red dot in the middle of it and a note from Emery that read “Rudapf’s nose”).   

Here’s the story Emery submitted

"Trash day

Today, I’m going to tell you how trash day came into our lifes. For those of you who don’t know about trash day, I will tell you all about it. Trash Day is every Tuesday. The garbeg man flys on his magical trash bad and you throw all of your trash at him and he laughs like this “He, He, He!” Then he brings it back to the South Pole at his Giant dump.

Now, I can tell you how it all began. Everybody back in 1100 AD people would put out there trash in a trash can and no one came to get it. So all the trash bags over flowed. The one man named Garbage though we need a kind of Giant dump to place the trash. So, Garbage wrote a letter to Santa for a Giant place to store trash and a flying trash bag. Santa wrote back, “No way bub, that’s too expensive!” Then Garbage stole money from the bank to make a Giant dump. He also stole one of Santa’s raindeer, and stuffed it          in a garbage bag so it could fly. And that’s how Trash Day was born."

We submitted the story and the picture and a few days after the deadline found out that his story had been chosen. It was amazing; they sent him a consent form (I hope I didn’t violate it by reposting his story here on my blog) that we now consider his first “contract.” It was very exciting but not as exciting as their adaptation of his story that you can listen to here.

Needless to say, we are so impressed with the way they handled Emery’s story—we laughed so hard and still quote lines like, (He, he, he) and “Probably not” and “no way, that’s too expensive, bub.”

The Story Pirates are currently creating podcasts of their favorite stories and including interviews with the authors (I love that they admit that they like “twisted” stories and weren’t put off by Emery’s outlandishness). Emery's is awesome. You can check out their website or subscribe to them through itunes.

Emery’s comment: i was really hoping she would say more about our first day in New York or my comic books but this is motive enough.

VICTOR: I hate to say it, but I’m the same as Emery. Really, really motivated when it’s something I want to write.  Phone it in when it’s something that gets in the way of watching football … like this blog post.

Day 2 in New York

Our view from the Sheraton Hotel-Times Square
The front desk staff were marvelous

So, last weekend we spent two days in New York: one at New York Comic Con, the second doing what I love to do in New York—museums and performances. As a doctorprofessor mom, you can imagine that I wasn’t leaving New York without doing something educational, but on a Sunday, our choices were limited.

The Museum of Modern Art (MOMA) is my favorite museum. When I lived in New York, I used to go on Fridays and I loved attending the films they would show. When I heard that they were having a Magritte exhibit during the time we were going to New York, I knew I had to go and, of course, take Emery. Since this was my first time taking Emery to MOMA, I looked to see what educational programs they offered. The answer is, they have wonderful opportunities. We attended a free (yep, that’s right, we didn’t have to pay, but there were only a number of spaces) tour of the sound exhibit where we learned the ways sound becomes art. We drew, we danced, we discussed.

After a lunch from a local deli, we changed for our afternoon entertainment, a play. We saw Peter and the Starcatcher. It seems hard to avoid movies and plays that are based on children’s books these days, and it’s hard for me not to make comparisons. Peter and the Starcatcher is the story of Peter Pan before he becomes Peter Pan. I hadn’t realized that I had read the book until after the play started and I experienced a strong feeling of déjà vu. This adaptation was lovely and the cast was amazing. In fact, they were more than amazing. They used props, like a rope, in really inventive ways, and each actor played multiple characters. These are true professionals. It’s a week later and Emery and I are still laughing and making references to Norse code and “Oh my God.” (It’s nice to have inside jokes with Emery that Victor can’t catch—he was still at the convention).

The play was followed by dinner, which was adequate—I wish we had found a place a little less touristy. And, then we left very, very early the next morning to go home. 

DoctorProfessorMom Goes to New York Comic Con

A sand castle sculpture of the castle in the Nintendo Game, Zelda: Wind Waker
I think that's a security guard behind it. 

Wow, what a day. I’ve seen a Quidditch Match hosted by the NYC league, a sneak preview of an origin story for a character in the Legend of Korra, walked in an impromptu zombie parade (by accident), skipped ahead in line, played a preview level of Super Mario Bros 3D World, walked to the Nintendo store to buy Pokemon Y (to avoid the hour-long line in the exhibit room) and sat through a panel on zombie animals comics to be first in line for a panel on Nintendo communities.

I’ll probably come back and report a bit more of the details, but right now, I’m too exhausted.

Emery’s comments—I’m too exhausted to even comment. 

Thoughts on Developmentally Appropriate

An example of an extremely appropriate, hilarious play we recently saw, Jason and the Argonauts performed by the Visible Fictions group from Glascow, Scotland. 

I’ve been thinking about what’s developmentally appropriate a lot lately as Emery’s straddling the end of his elementary school career and beginning his middle school one. For example, I’m quite sure he’s the only one in his class who hasn’t read the Hunger Games trilogy (which I struggle with because my parents never censored my reading). But we’re about to publish an article on the book series in The ALAN Review, and I’m glad we decided to wait on his reading the books or seeing the movies.

The question of appropriateness came up again in regards to our upcoming trip to New York. I would very much like to see the revival of Pippin, but after reading several blogs and reviews on the play (one even titled Mathilda or Pippin?), I decided (well, Victor decided) we would go and see Peter and the Starcatchers instead.

One place where my husband and I disagree on levels of appropriateness is in regards to movies. Emery has seen the Lord of the Rings trilogy multiple times since he was 7. He started watching Spongebob when he was 2.  And Victor thinks he’s ready for Les Mis (I’m not ready for him to be).

I was recently asked what my thoughts were about the ways the common core state standards were being phased into the curriculum at various schools—were these curricula developmentally appropriate? I honestly think that depends on the student. Emery went to a biomedical workshop today and learned about cloning and growing new organs from stem cells—topics with huge ethical considerations that I feel were probably not discussed by the facilitators. (Or might have been, I didn’t ask). 

The truth is, there are students in Emery’s class who are ready to think about Collins’ depiction of a futuristic society, who can understand and appreciate sarcasm (I’m a big believer in the stages of humor development), and can laugh at a good fart joke.

It’s just getting harder to make decisions, especially when he could be exposed to something I don’t find developmentally appropriate for him at this time.

Victor’s Comment

The question is how long do we shelter him when it's obvious other children are moving "forward.'  A couple I know and respect have shown their kids (more or less Emery's age) Les Mis and they really seemed to enjoy the music.

Emery's comment: So in the end since she doesn't know what to do so she does everything.

Review of Cloudy with Meatballs 2 (no spoliers) and a Discussion about the Barrett Books (with spoilers)

“So a decision was made to abandon the town of Chewandswallow.” (Barrett, 1978, Cloudy, n.p.)


Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs 2 opens with the town of Swallow Falls leaving their island. The founder of a company called Live Corps, best known for its production of a food bar, and Flint’s childhood idol, comes to clear the island of the excess food, while SF’s citizens are relocated. Six months later, the group of friends find themselves traveling back to Swallow Falls to shut of the Flint Lockwood Diatonic Super Mutating Dynamic Food Replicator which has started creating foodanimals that are proving to be uncontrollable and dangerous to the Live Corps crews. Operation shut down the replicator begins . . .

As usual, I have a feeling that our review will differ from many other reviews (our paper gave it a 2 out of 5). I will admit that many of the jokes were not funny (the few poop jokes were just yucky) and the character development that existed in the first film was absent from this version. Other the other hand, I thought the soundtrack was great, the visuals were stunning (and reminiscent of Barrett’s—that discussion to come later), and according to my husband, Victor, there were a scattering of really funny moments. He also finds it slightly better than the Percy Jackson film, if that helps. 

Emery's comment:I like how it has the same dialogue as the first movie in some parts. Ex wwwwwwwwhhhhhhhuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There is also another weirder ape. And the food are so cuuuuttteeee!!! Plus it has a nice balance of puns.

Now, onto a discussion of the Barrett books (I'm going to keep this short, but occasionally I feel the need to show my literary side). 

The Barrett books (Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs (1978) and its sequel, Pickles to Pittsburgh (1997) and the recent Planet of the Pies (2013) which I haven’t read yet, but will!) are told from the point of view of a young girl, and her brother Henry. After their grandfather accidentally flips a pancake onto Henry’s head, he’s inspired to tell them a bedtime story about Chewandswallow, a town where food rains down from the sky, and people are content, until the foodweather becomes increasingly dangerous and the islanders flee for their lives on slices of stale bread.

In the sequel, the grandfather sends a postcard that inspires his granddaughter to dream about Chewandswallow, which “from the air looks like gigantic feast” (Pickles, 1997, n.p.). The two children then explore the various vegetation which consists of oversized food.

Although the differences between the two books is obvious, (the kid tells the story, there’s no scientist, the food is not alive in the sequel), there are many similarities in the representation of the island. For example, I noted the pats of butter that are featured in both versions and the look of the island from the distance. I like how they book starts and ends in black and white, whereas the scenes on Chewandswallow are in color. And grandfather has a bushy mustache much like Flint’s father’s.

I think the film adaptations are nice and admit that a film just showing two kids climbing over large food probably wouldn’t make for an engaging hour and a half. Alas, as in many film adaptations of children’s books, the largest difference can be found in the “messages” the book and film delivers.

First, the film.

Live Corps turns out to want to use Flint’s machine to replicate the island’s inhabitants to grind into their food bars.

Now, the book.

Crews harvest the “non-living” food on the island to solve the world’s hunger crisis.

Thoughts? 

Tech-Free Thursdays

Last week's Tech-Free Thursday Dinner
(we do use technology still to cook)

The textbook I use in one of my courses asks students to consider how will they sustain themselves as teachers. In other words, “How will they not join the large numbers of teachers who have left the profession?”. It's a great question, although when I started teaching, I was too optimistic and full of energy to ever think I would want to leave. But, they're right--and I became one of those teachers. 

I wish I had thought about this issue sooner and my strategy for getting through the week (teaching is exhausting) became a combination of little things: Developing a grading routine, taking naps after school, Sunday home-made spa nights, and tech-free Tuesdays. On Tuesdays, I would not do school work after school, kept the television off, and spent the evening reading and sipping fresh mint tea. These rituals really helped, as silly as they may seem.

Tech-free Tuesdays disappeared during grad school and didn’t reappear until about 3 years ago. At that time, I felt as if television, video games, and the Internet were consuming our lives. So, on Tuesdays, I cooked (which was usually disastrous), we played board games, and we talked. Tech-free Tuesdays pretty much disappeared last year when I accepted some administrative duties—and I missed them.

This semester I teach on Tuesday nights so I have set up Tech-free Thursdays for the sake of keeping the alliterative aspect of that evening. And, I’m so glad they’re back. 

How do you sustain yourself? 

Emery's comment: WOW that was short. Well, I  have a new saga to read so i guess tech- free t days are kinda ok.

On Homework: Mine and Emery's

Emery's Creation after the Conclusion of his unit on the Maya

Yes, I have homework. There is no possible way I can get all of my work done (including grading homework) during my work hours of 7:30 to 3:30 (and beyond at least 2 times a week). And, since I’m incapable (and frankly unwilling) to do school work at home, I found myself at a local restaurant this morning reading through a student’s dissertation proposal because my university rents out my parking lot (for which I pay a crazy amount of money for a parking spot in each month) to football fans. After an hour and a half, I found myself getting a little anxious, so I moved to the local library for the second session. I usually go to my office on Sunday mornings for a couple of hours to plan for the next week (and I must say, I’m appalled by the mess the football fans leave on my campus—but that’s for another post), and I’ll be there tomorrow. If homework is defined as work done outside of school hours, then I, too, suffer from it.

It seems as if homework has been on my mind lately. I have a student who is planning to conduct her dissertation study on homework (she sent me a link to this commentary titled "Thirty Minutes Top" on how parents should be able to decide what homework they can send to school for their children to do—I found it amusing and wishing I could send Emery to school to practice violin), and I encounter my son’s homework on a daily basis. This year, his homework is comprised of mainly the following:

1.    Reading logs (he’s supposed to read each day for 20 minutes and log it in)

2.    Kahn Academy (No idea what or how much of KA he’s supposed to do. It’s possible those expectations were communicated to us, and I missed it.)

3.    Math problems and review sheet

4.    Various research projects, for example, write a bibliography and print a copy to bring to school.

5.    Various worksheets and workbook pages

6.    Study for weekly tests/ quizzes: Tuesday, Social studies; Wednesday, ELA; Thursday, Math; Friday, Science.

It’s #4 that nearly killed us this past week. Imagine this scenario, which is probably very common in many households:

Monday morning 6:15 a.m. (we must leave the house at 7:15 to get to school on time so I can get to my 8:00 a.m. class)

E: We need to print out my bibliography!

M: Okay. (sets up computer) I don’t see a file on this jump drive.

E: (speechless) I saved it at school.

M: It’s not there—did you pull out your jump drive from the computer without ejecting it?

E: What? 

For the next several moments Victor and I are search Amazon and Emery’s school’s library catalog for the three sources he used for his project. We try our absolute best with “It’s called The Maya and it’s written by someone named Judith.” We thrust computer screens in his face with various covers of books to see if he recognizes them.

And, then, I learn he’s used the citation generator option in Word—something I haven’t used yet, preferring just to do it as best as I can from memory and then editing it later. It takes another 5 minutes to find that option—luckily Emery used it to create his original bibliography so he had little trouble remaking it—

He got a check mark on the assignment, so I guess our hard work paid off. Later, after I interrogate/ yell at him in the car, I learned that he didn’t give his file a name when he saved it at school.

Do you find yourself having to teach the process of doing something rather than the actual content? 

Emery's comment: the best part is it was due Tuesday instead of Monday. I hate technology  (except Nintendo.)