How much would it cost to get the Sunday New York Times, printed and delivered, without the advertisements in it? $10? $20? They would save a little on paper, and on ad sales staff, and in return lose all of the advertising revenue. Sales would go down as the price rises, but since the product would be improved with the absence of those distracting ads, they may not go down dramatically.
Another way to ask the question: how much does the New York Times Corporation make off each subscriber in advertising revenue per issue? $5? $10? $20? $50?
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Reading The New Yorker while writing a term paper
As her mother did before her, my mother has been paying for my New Yorker subscription for my entire adult life. Starting in college, I read it when I had a chance, and since then, with what seems like more free time for volitional reading, I've had years when I read most issues cover to cover and served as a resource to the rest of my family on what to read and what to skip. Sometimes the articles are so long.
I recall certain seasons of reading those too long articles not just for the pleasure of the stories and information contained but for the form and weft of the writing. Particularly towards the end of college, when I was writing quite a bit, mostly term papers but expansive literary-tinged emails and some short fiction, I recall a particular energy around reading New Yorker articles, while I tracked and processed the writing on two or three levels at once, reading for content, listening for literary allusions, particularly in the reviews, and struggling to see how they held together, and perhaps how I could write to match.
Since then, at least until this past year of blogging, I have written at a far slower pace, in all categories of writing but particularly in the literate and referential style honed by late night electronic conversations with my erudite and highly educated friends. Concomitantly, my reading of the New Yorker is less exciting as well. Perhaps it simply was in a golden period of writing around the turn of the millenium, but more likely as I focus my energy on fields outside of the careful crafting of allusions and pithy phrases, my awareness of such declines. There are compensations, toddler giggle being the one that comes first to mind, but I miss getting the references.
Yesterday's menu:
breakfast: donuts
lunch: bean salad
dinner: the end of the potato leek soup
I recall certain seasons of reading those too long articles not just for the pleasure of the stories and information contained but for the form and weft of the writing. Particularly towards the end of college, when I was writing quite a bit, mostly term papers but expansive literary-tinged emails and some short fiction, I recall a particular energy around reading New Yorker articles, while I tracked and processed the writing on two or three levels at once, reading for content, listening for literary allusions, particularly in the reviews, and struggling to see how they held together, and perhaps how I could write to match.
Since then, at least until this past year of blogging, I have written at a far slower pace, in all categories of writing but particularly in the literate and referential style honed by late night electronic conversations with my erudite and highly educated friends. Concomitantly, my reading of the New Yorker is less exciting as well. Perhaps it simply was in a golden period of writing around the turn of the millenium, but more likely as I focus my energy on fields outside of the careful crafting of allusions and pithy phrases, my awareness of such declines. There are compensations, toddler giggle being the one that comes first to mind, but I miss getting the references.
Yesterday's menu:
breakfast: donuts
lunch: bean salad
dinner: the end of the potato leek soup
Saturday, May 28, 2011
12 ways to play with 12 bean soup mix
1) sort, by color, size, etc.
2) put in tupperware and shake like a maraca
3) experiment with static and kinetic friction by sliding a ramp
4) make rangoli
5) glue onto cards and add fun facts about each bean
6) play mancala
7) sprout and eat
8) sprout and plant
9) glue together to make little creatures
10) use to model relative sizes of planets, elements, countries, etc.
11) glue onto paper to make mosaics
12) make soup!
2) put in tupperware and shake like a maraca
3) experiment with static and kinetic friction by sliding a ramp
4) make rangoli
5) glue onto cards and add fun facts about each bean
6) play mancala
7) sprout and eat
8) sprout and plant
9) glue together to make little creatures
10) use to model relative sizes of planets, elements, countries, etc.
11) glue onto paper to make mosaics
12) make soup!
Friday, May 27, 2011
My gender neutral lens
Gender differences permeate society. Parenting is no exception. Finding ways to embrace my daughter's gender without letting her be limited by it is a lifelong project. One of my tools is a simple gender-bender: for any given activity, expectation, way of acting or dressing or thinking, switch the gender. If if sounds strange, if dressing a boy in pink or seeing a girl ignore the other children on the playground as she grabs for a sand toy, question if the strangeness is inherent in some sort of sex difference, and if so, how. If not, remind yourself that this gender-based assumption of correct behavior is socially constructed for reasons that benefit someone, and that someone very well might not be your child.
Yesterday's menu:
breakfast: brownies
lunch: potato leek soup leftovers
dinner: bean salad, potato salad, and hot dogs at a picnic in our living room
Yesterday's menu:
breakfast: brownies
lunch: potato leek soup leftovers
dinner: bean salad, potato salad, and hot dogs at a picnic in our living room
Thursday, May 26, 2011
If she can go down the slide, she can do anything
In the past couple days Miriam has started embracing slides. For months she's been climbing up the stairs, playing around on the platform, and sitting at the top of the slide, but she's usually then stood back up and come down the stairs. Occasionally, she'd reach out for a hand and slide down with support, and even more occasionally turn on to her belly and slide down lying down feet first.
Now she climbs, walks, sits, slides, and gets up to go do it again and again. I irrationally worried for those months of being afraid of the slide that she would always be afraid of it, and by extension be afraid of most of the world and end up creating for herself a safe sheltered too small life. Now I am irrationally exultant for her in her lack of fear of that momentary loss of physical control and pleasure of sliding, and by extension proud that she's off to conquer the world. If she can go down the slide, she can do anything. At least, if she can overcome her fear of the slide, she shows that in general she can have fears and grow out of them. I feel like a stage of childhood, or perhaps of parenthood, has ended and a new one begun.
Yesterday's menu:
breakfast: frosted mini-wheats
lunch: peanut butter and jelly
dinner: potato leek soup with kielbasa
Now she climbs, walks, sits, slides, and gets up to go do it again and again. I irrationally worried for those months of being afraid of the slide that she would always be afraid of it, and by extension be afraid of most of the world and end up creating for herself a safe sheltered too small life. Now I am irrationally exultant for her in her lack of fear of that momentary loss of physical control and pleasure of sliding, and by extension proud that she's off to conquer the world. If she can go down the slide, she can do anything. At least, if she can overcome her fear of the slide, she shows that in general she can have fears and grow out of them. I feel like a stage of childhood, or perhaps of parenthood, has ended and a new one begun.
Yesterday's menu:
breakfast: frosted mini-wheats
lunch: peanut butter and jelly
dinner: potato leek soup with kielbasa
Still thinking about unschooling
A few things today suggested to me why I'm afraid of the public school system my child(ren) are on track to inhabit for 13 years. Or a private school system, for that matter, should something dramatic happen in our family's station in life. Perhaps it's not so much being afraid of school as thinking there is so much more that can be done with 13 years of education. And so much damage that can be done in that environment. A large part of course is the dramatic loss of control over my child(ren)'s environment, particularly compared to my current state of stay-at-home parenting.
I, like the good upper middle class liberal that I am, have my car radio permanently set to NPR and hear a lot of Air Talk on KPCC. Both stories that I heard today resonated with my standing interest in homeschooling. The first was about a Toronto couple who are trying to keep the gender of their four month old private from the world, hoping to avoid gender stereotyping. The second about a recent book "The Geeks Shall Inherit the Earth" about how quirky kids in high school who are social outcasts have better prospects as adults for creative careers and satisfying social lives. School, and the uncontrolled, or undercontrolled, environment of kids picking on other kids and picking up stereotypes from other kids, seems at the root of a lot of damage that happens to children. I think of middle school of this at its worst, when many children turning into teens have emotional awareness and can grasp the levers of social power but have not yet developed a sense of responsibility. If I can help my child(ren) avoid the artificially created world of 13 year olds out of the context of the full life spectrum of society I want to. Certainly spending year after year in a culture peopled by kids all the same age is preparation for no area of life besides schooling.
Later in the day, listening to yesterday's Marketplace podcast about online learning, I was struck by how expansive and impressive non-classroom learning tools are in the Internet Age. Featured was a group, Khan Academy, that creates and promotes short educational videos on typical school subjects, and promulgates a philosophy of learning at your own pace, sticking with one topic until you deeply understand it, in contrast to a classroom's pace set to a "typical" student which leaves some bored and some behind and discouraged.
Yesterday's menu:
breakfast: Bru's Waffles
lunch: Bay Cities Italian Deli godmother sandwich
dinner: leftover sandwich and pasta
I, like the good upper middle class liberal that I am, have my car radio permanently set to NPR and hear a lot of Air Talk on KPCC. Both stories that I heard today resonated with my standing interest in homeschooling. The first was about a Toronto couple who are trying to keep the gender of their four month old private from the world, hoping to avoid gender stereotyping. The second about a recent book "The Geeks Shall Inherit the Earth" about how quirky kids in high school who are social outcasts have better prospects as adults for creative careers and satisfying social lives. School, and the uncontrolled, or undercontrolled, environment of kids picking on other kids and picking up stereotypes from other kids, seems at the root of a lot of damage that happens to children. I think of middle school of this at its worst, when many children turning into teens have emotional awareness and can grasp the levers of social power but have not yet developed a sense of responsibility. If I can help my child(ren) avoid the artificially created world of 13 year olds out of the context of the full life spectrum of society I want to. Certainly spending year after year in a culture peopled by kids all the same age is preparation for no area of life besides schooling.
Later in the day, listening to yesterday's Marketplace podcast about online learning, I was struck by how expansive and impressive non-classroom learning tools are in the Internet Age. Featured was a group, Khan Academy, that creates and promotes short educational videos on typical school subjects, and promulgates a philosophy of learning at your own pace, sticking with one topic until you deeply understand it, in contrast to a classroom's pace set to a "typical" student which leaves some bored and some behind and discouraged.
Yesterday's menu:
breakfast: Bru's Waffles
lunch: Bay Cities Italian Deli godmother sandwich
dinner: leftover sandwich and pasta
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Fountains of Southern California
I'm sure the book "Fountains of Southern California" exists and is lovely. I imagine a coffee table book of lusciously sparkling photography, sketches by fountain designers, a passing reference to the unsustainability of SoCal's water sources, etc.
Among the chapters would be one on children's fountains, their design and function as a play space as well as landscape beautification element. Perhaps including a history of water parks and of the development of water playgrounds, the best of Southern California's children's fountains and water features would be featured. Common trends, like water jetting straight up out of a flat concrete pool, may be researched, their earliest antecedents, futuristic imaginings by competition-winning design students.
I'd include the water features of Kidspace, the children's museum in Pasadena. There is creative use of water throughout the outdoor section of the museum, but most substantial water feature is the fountain gazebo leading to the pool at the top of their walkable stream. Off a corrugated tin roof falls a wall of rain, sometimes heavy sometimes light. Beneath there is a platform and a bench in redwood. The rain falls into the upper pool of the fifty foot concrete and stone stream, with trees all around and a view of some of the hills of Pasadena. To the left of the bench there is a waterwheel slowly turning under its pumped feeder stream. Though the day may be sunny, the sound is of rain on a tree lined lake under grey skies. It is a little odd to match that sound to the bright sparkle of full sunlight shining onto the falling drops, turning them to ephemeral neon lines of white light.
Among the chapters would be one on children's fountains, their design and function as a play space as well as landscape beautification element. Perhaps including a history of water parks and of the development of water playgrounds, the best of Southern California's children's fountains and water features would be featured. Common trends, like water jetting straight up out of a flat concrete pool, may be researched, their earliest antecedents, futuristic imaginings by competition-winning design students.
I'd include the water features of Kidspace, the children's museum in Pasadena. There is creative use of water throughout the outdoor section of the museum, but most substantial water feature is the fountain gazebo leading to the pool at the top of their walkable stream. Off a corrugated tin roof falls a wall of rain, sometimes heavy sometimes light. Beneath there is a platform and a bench in redwood. The rain falls into the upper pool of the fifty foot concrete and stone stream, with trees all around and a view of some of the hills of Pasadena. To the left of the bench there is a waterwheel slowly turning under its pumped feeder stream. Though the day may be sunny, the sound is of rain on a tree lined lake under grey skies. It is a little odd to match that sound to the bright sparkle of full sunlight shining onto the falling drops, turning them to ephemeral neon lines of white light.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
The Mermaid's Ball
The Mermaid's Ball, the Mermaid's Ball,
The biggest party of the Fall
For mermaids know as no one knows
To make the Ball for one and all
With nimble fingers doing their parts
To run the wires and draw the charts
The mermaids work all through the year
To make the Ball in fits and starts
A Ball won't happen on its own
It takes experience and wisdom, honed
On practice, experiments, and study
To make the Ball of such renown
Their hair tied back, their gloves in place
They start to put each piece in space
And to connect as planned and noted
To make the Ball gather apace
A Ball is not a simple thing
A Bathypelgaic Atomically Lasing
Light show for the rays and fish
But mermaids know as no one knows
Their physics, engineering, and how to glow
The biggest party of the Fall
For mermaids know as no one knows
To make the Ball for one and all
With nimble fingers doing their parts
To run the wires and draw the charts
The mermaids work all through the year
To make the Ball in fits and starts
A Ball won't happen on its own
It takes experience and wisdom, honed
On practice, experiments, and study
To make the Ball of such renown
Their hair tied back, their gloves in place
They start to put each piece in space
And to connect as planned and noted
To make the Ball gather apace
A Ball is not a simple thing
A Bathypelgaic Atomically Lasing
Light show for the rays and fish
But mermaids know as no one knows
Their physics, engineering, and how to glow
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Mattie Saunders, CPA
Mattie Saunders ended up becoming a CPA. This was a disappointment to her parents, who were theater people, but not really a surprise. She had always had a thing for numbers, and for order, that had manifested itself early in her sorting of blocks and charting of days of parental absences per month against household income. Her childhood friendship with her parents, so different from the much too intimately knowledgeable relationship she would hold over them as an adult, was mediated by her seeming maturity and their only sometimes feigned childishness.
An enormous fan of graph paper from around the age of three, Mattie obsessively collected data about her life and plotted it. When she was nine, one of her secretly cherished charts measured her father's mood, which rose and fell on what appeared to be a 24-32 day cycle. Sometimes the peaks of this cycle corresponded with the final frenzied week before one of his shows opened. Then the point Mattie added to the long running Critical Review of Daddy's Work As Measured By Number of Congratulatory Calls Received in First 10 Days of the Run chart would be a little above the curve.
Sometimes the troughs of his cycle, which she would later learn in the supplemental reading to Abnormal Psychology 211 did not constitute clinically recognized manic depressive disorder until the diagnostic revision in DSM-IV, unfortunately fell along important dates in Mattie's own life progression. Her seventh birthday party felt his absence, though her eleventh did not. Christmas 2005 was a bit of a bust. She was disappointed that he was unable to give much of a speech at her wedding, but that was in part balanced out by his enormous helpfulness six days earlier in negotiating with the florist over the total disaster of a plan for the table decorations she provided, finally, after three weeks of delays. And considering his opinions of Mattie's fiance it was perhaps all for the best.
In the age range of nine to thirteen, Mattie wondered what it would be like to have parents who went to an office during the week, came home on weekends, slept at night and only at night. She took in stride the weeks and sometimes months on end when she would leave for school to a cheery wave from her mother and return six, seven, or, by high school when she had a little more choice in the matter, eight to ten hours later, to find her in exactly the same spot at the breakfast table with another novel or script in hand. Then at a sleepover at Laila Sanchez's house in eighth grade she complained about having parents that were never there except when they were there too much and the general consensus was that all parents were like that, whether on a month-to-month schedule or the more typical phases of the week. Thirteen was a good age to start to realize that her life was actually quite similar to those of her friends and peers, as it gave her something to talk about with them. Also it helped dissipate the aura of superiority her parents had mostly successfully wafted about her through sparkling and witty conversation with their own friends and peers that was undoubtably meant for Mattie's ears as well. Mother, in particular, was very good at keeping all of her audiences in mind at once.
An enormous fan of graph paper from around the age of three, Mattie obsessively collected data about her life and plotted it. When she was nine, one of her secretly cherished charts measured her father's mood, which rose and fell on what appeared to be a 24-32 day cycle. Sometimes the peaks of this cycle corresponded with the final frenzied week before one of his shows opened. Then the point Mattie added to the long running Critical Review of Daddy's Work As Measured By Number of Congratulatory Calls Received in First 10 Days of the Run chart would be a little above the curve.
Sometimes the troughs of his cycle, which she would later learn in the supplemental reading to Abnormal Psychology 211 did not constitute clinically recognized manic depressive disorder until the diagnostic revision in DSM-IV, unfortunately fell along important dates in Mattie's own life progression. Her seventh birthday party felt his absence, though her eleventh did not. Christmas 2005 was a bit of a bust. She was disappointed that he was unable to give much of a speech at her wedding, but that was in part balanced out by his enormous helpfulness six days earlier in negotiating with the florist over the total disaster of a plan for the table decorations she provided, finally, after three weeks of delays. And considering his opinions of Mattie's fiance it was perhaps all for the best.
In the age range of nine to thirteen, Mattie wondered what it would be like to have parents who went to an office during the week, came home on weekends, slept at night and only at night. She took in stride the weeks and sometimes months on end when she would leave for school to a cheery wave from her mother and return six, seven, or, by high school when she had a little more choice in the matter, eight to ten hours later, to find her in exactly the same spot at the breakfast table with another novel or script in hand. Then at a sleepover at Laila Sanchez's house in eighth grade she complained about having parents that were never there except when they were there too much and the general consensus was that all parents were like that, whether on a month-to-month schedule or the more typical phases of the week. Thirteen was a good age to start to realize that her life was actually quite similar to those of her friends and peers, as it gave her something to talk about with them. Also it helped dissipate the aura of superiority her parents had mostly successfully wafted about her through sparkling and witty conversation with their own friends and peers that was undoubtably meant for Mattie's ears as well. Mother, in particular, was very good at keeping all of her audiences in mind at once.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Taxonomy of storybook animals
Natural/scientific - animal is portrayed by photograph or detailed accurate painting or drawing in naturalistic setting. Captions describe natural behavior.
Ambiguously artificial behavior - animal is portrayed mostly realistically but captions purport potential human motivations or thoughts.
Animal with some human characteristics - animal talks, walks, wears clothes, reasons, but is clearly an animal of a specific species with species-specific characteristics, both physical and psychological, like a crocodile that sings about eating other animals. May have magical opposable thumbs, either invisible or some repurposed appendage like a claw or feather.
Human in animal skin - character of basically human characteristics, such as walking upright, talking, wearing clothes, in which another animal body could be used without changing the character or its relationship to other elements in the story.
Ambiguously artificial behavior - animal is portrayed mostly realistically but captions purport potential human motivations or thoughts.
Animal with some human characteristics - animal talks, walks, wears clothes, reasons, but is clearly an animal of a specific species with species-specific characteristics, both physical and psychological, like a crocodile that sings about eating other animals. May have magical opposable thumbs, either invisible or some repurposed appendage like a claw or feather.
Human in animal skin - character of basically human characteristics, such as walking upright, talking, wearing clothes, in which another animal body could be used without changing the character or its relationship to other elements in the story.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Some we talk to, some we pet, some we eat
For the past year or two I have been reading deeply into the genre of board books, those children's picture books appropriate, at least tangentially, to children young enough to rip the pages. I've stopped reading cloth books, which are more appropriate for children young enough to want to munch on the pages.
Board books, and children's picture books in general, contain a lot of animals. Barnyard animals, jungle animals, zoo animals, cats and dogs and rabbits and mice, you name it, there's a book there. Some of these animals are represented visually by photos, some by drawings, some by collage or painting or watercolors. Among the photo-based books, nearly all the animals act like animals in the course of the story. Hippos lay in mud, chicks eat corn, dogs sit with their heads out the window. None of these animals talk, wear clothes (that is clothes that they have chosen for themselves), or otherwise act like humans dressed up in animal bodies.
The drawn, painted, etc. animals are a different story. Some of them act like animals. Many of them act like humans, either children or adults. Their childlike or adultlike behavior is correlated to the apparent age of the animal, but not closely. Little Pookie the pig cries and is comforted by his pig mother. A pink dog and a blue dog meet to flirtatiously discuss haberdashery. Ollie the bird-of-indeterminate-species decides today is the day he's going to hatch.
In some books, some but not all of the animals are gifted with speech, magical invisible opposable thumbs, names, and reasoning abilities far beyond their natural brethren. These books range from confused to subtle. At their best, a book that has characters that look basically alike but have radically different abilities, so much so that some are people and some are animals, creates a space for stories and conversation about what it means to be human, why we consider it acceptable to eat some animals but not others, and how to create connection and understanding across differences. This potentially richly creative space is underexplored.
For example, I don't believe in two years of study I have come across any books in which animal characters eat meat. It might be confusing to a two year old, who has nearly no conception (at least in this supermarket culture) that piece of chicken on the plate and a chicken clucking around are the same substance. And as a vehicle for beginning a grounded understanding of the origins of meat and the ethics of killing animals for meat, such a picture book would almost require a parents' guide of reasonable answers to tough questions.
But even without using the power of mixing character-animals and animal-animals for opening up complex topics for discussion between parent and child, witty use of that mixing could create memorable (and salable) humor. There's a scene in Fantasia 2000 in which Donald Duck plays Noah, and in watching various animals go onto the arc two by two does a double take when the ducks walk by. By his standards, they are naked (and by our standards, he is always half naked, perhaps in reference to his half human-half animal status), and they don't recognize him as one of them, or know quite what to make of him. There are far too few moments like that in board books with cute little animals currently in print.
Board books, and children's picture books in general, contain a lot of animals. Barnyard animals, jungle animals, zoo animals, cats and dogs and rabbits and mice, you name it, there's a book there. Some of these animals are represented visually by photos, some by drawings, some by collage or painting or watercolors. Among the photo-based books, nearly all the animals act like animals in the course of the story. Hippos lay in mud, chicks eat corn, dogs sit with their heads out the window. None of these animals talk, wear clothes (that is clothes that they have chosen for themselves), or otherwise act like humans dressed up in animal bodies.
The drawn, painted, etc. animals are a different story. Some of them act like animals. Many of them act like humans, either children or adults. Their childlike or adultlike behavior is correlated to the apparent age of the animal, but not closely. Little Pookie the pig cries and is comforted by his pig mother. A pink dog and a blue dog meet to flirtatiously discuss haberdashery. Ollie the bird-of-indeterminate-species decides today is the day he's going to hatch.
In some books, some but not all of the animals are gifted with speech, magical invisible opposable thumbs, names, and reasoning abilities far beyond their natural brethren. These books range from confused to subtle. At their best, a book that has characters that look basically alike but have radically different abilities, so much so that some are people and some are animals, creates a space for stories and conversation about what it means to be human, why we consider it acceptable to eat some animals but not others, and how to create connection and understanding across differences. This potentially richly creative space is underexplored.
For example, I don't believe in two years of study I have come across any books in which animal characters eat meat. It might be confusing to a two year old, who has nearly no conception (at least in this supermarket culture) that piece of chicken on the plate and a chicken clucking around are the same substance. And as a vehicle for beginning a grounded understanding of the origins of meat and the ethics of killing animals for meat, such a picture book would almost require a parents' guide of reasonable answers to tough questions.
But even without using the power of mixing character-animals and animal-animals for opening up complex topics for discussion between parent and child, witty use of that mixing could create memorable (and salable) humor. There's a scene in Fantasia 2000 in which Donald Duck plays Noah, and in watching various animals go onto the arc two by two does a double take when the ducks walk by. By his standards, they are naked (and by our standards, he is always half naked, perhaps in reference to his half human-half animal status), and they don't recognize him as one of them, or know quite what to make of him. There are far too few moments like that in board books with cute little animals currently in print.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Room numbers
The LA Convention Center has meeting rooms numbered in the 300s, 400s, and 500s, in addition to the major exhibition halls on the ground floor. All of the meeting rooms so numbered are on the second floor, in different wings of the sprawling, L-shaped building. This is confusing the first time you look for a room, amusing the second, and mildly exasperating after that.
Friday, May 6, 2011
LA Museums I've brought a toddler to in the past year
By Approximate Proximity to Santa Monica:
Santa Monica Museum of Art
Santa Monica Pier Aquarium
Hammer Museum
Fowler Museum
Museum of Jurassic Technology*
Getty Center
Getty Villa
Skirball Center*
Zimmer Children's Museum
LACMA*
Craft and Folk Art Museum
Page Museum at the La Brea Tar Pits*
Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County
California Science Center*
Griffith Observatory*
Los Angeles Zoo
Japanese-American National Museum
Kidspace
* - multiple visits
Santa Monica Museum of Art
Santa Monica Pier Aquarium
Hammer Museum
Fowler Museum
Museum of Jurassic Technology*
Getty Center
Getty Villa
Skirball Center*
Zimmer Children's Museum
LACMA*
Craft and Folk Art Museum
Page Museum at the La Brea Tar Pits*
Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County
California Science Center*
Griffith Observatory*
Los Angeles Zoo
Japanese-American National Museum
Chinese-American Museum
LA Plaza de Cultura y Artes
Huntington Library and Gardens*Kidspace
* - multiple visits
Monday, May 2, 2011
Our Land, 2051 edition
In this completely revised edition of the classic middle school American History textbook, America's history has been resorted by period, bypassing the standard tripartite division by region of middle school textbooks, an approach that has previously only been found in high school and college level texts. From archeological prehistory to our present federalism, from the Panama Canal to Baffin Island, each era is portrayed as a set of interlocking stories that draws from the previous period and establishes the conditions for the next. With frequent sidebars following representative families, focused on the children and teenage members of those families and their everyday lives, Our Land helps students of all backgrounds place themselves with the vast regional, ethnic, and social diversities this country's history represents. Special attention is given to recent history, particularly unification and the role of shifting technologies. Recommended for 6th-8th grades.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Where's Spot? and Ender's Game
Where's Spot? is a book for children about a dog looking all over the house for her puppy, Spot.
Ender's Game is a book about children in a military academy in space in training and at war with an alien race.
Both books won awards in their time, are praised for a simplicity that approaches parable, and spawned and empire of sequels, merchandise, and optioned movie deals.
None of the sequels are of the same caliber of the original works. The first books, perhaps out of a naivety shared by author, narrator, and protagonist, capture a rhythm and a tone that is memorable and hints at universal stories, stories of searching for a loved one or of raging against the man behind the curtain. The later books tell rather than show. They force rather than invite the reader to respond in the proscribed manner. They make the original books seem more like a lucky jackpot of good writing than those progenitor books seemed on first reading.
Ender's Game is a book about children in a military academy in space in training and at war with an alien race.
Both books won awards in their time, are praised for a simplicity that approaches parable, and spawned and empire of sequels, merchandise, and optioned movie deals.
None of the sequels are of the same caliber of the original works. The first books, perhaps out of a naivety shared by author, narrator, and protagonist, capture a rhythm and a tone that is memorable and hints at universal stories, stories of searching for a loved one or of raging against the man behind the curtain. The later books tell rather than show. They force rather than invite the reader to respond in the proscribed manner. They make the original books seem more like a lucky jackpot of good writing than those progenitor books seemed on first reading.
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