He has a couple of other blogs, but hasn't posted there in a while - proving that even the most prolific pontificator eventually runs out of something to say. I don't look at any of his blogs because he generally uses his Facebook status reports to shape his material, so by the time he posts something on a blog, I've already heard it a couple of times. I keep telling him that he should develop his ideas and rhetoric in a blog post until he's got it right (or at least the way he wants it), then post a link on Facebook - but he won't do it. He seems to enjoy the immediate feedback offered by the "Like" button. I still say he'd like the data in his sitemeter more when people follow the links over to his blog posts because he'd have more solid numbers about who actually gives a shit about his comments and opinions.
Maybe that's exactly why he hasn't made a fan page . . .
In any case, he's arriving tomorrow and staying until early Wednesday morning. Seven nights and five days with Woody Konopak may or may not be more than I can handle. We shall see. The cool thing is that Woody was a professor of Curriculum Theory for 20 years before he got run out of Oklahoma all together and OU in particular. Since I'm in the process of deconstructing teacher practice at my school in order to determine what values are reflected consistently in all of our classrooms. Now that I've uncovered our common approach to teaching and to children, I should be able to articulate the theories embedded in our practice and, subsequently, describe an approach to curriculum that is unique to our environment. Woody can help me figure this shit out and write off his trip.
Except for when he writes an "Education Beat" column for Joe at Worldwide Hippies, Woody likes talking about politics and current events. I hadn't really been paying attention to current events or politics when Velvet was little because (1) someone would have had to interrupt Barney to report breaking news if I were going to hear about it and (2) the government is such bullshit anyway that I didn't fucking care - and that went double when George W was president. Couldn't look at the man on TV without throwing something. I had hoped to have a different attitude about the president and the government in general when Obama took office, but we all see how that turned out.
Woody became a fixture in my life about the time I started paying attention to the world again, a little over five years ago. Neither one of us can remember if I found his blog first, or if he found mine - but either way, over time we became best buddies even though we've never met in real life. For all his confrontational mouthiness with regard to current events and politics, Woody is really a teddy bear who will endlessly listen to me sort out my romantic behaviors. He's the one who said my relationship with Notta Goodman was really an ethnographic study of Self in Relationship. He's also the one who keeps telling me to read Goffman's Presentation of Self in Everyday Life - and I really did try. Goffman may have been brilliant, but he was a boring writer.
I much prefer Tom Robbins, and Woody introduced me to him, too. Woody has read a lot of books in his time, and he has the kind of mind that retains details like author's names, publication dates and the vocabulary words people use to describe philosophies. I can never remember that stuff unless someone's work makes a serious impact on my development - like Kurt Vonnegut and Anthony Trollope. When I read everything I can find by an author, then I remember his/her name.
I read everything by Georgette Heyer I could find in the library when I was in high school and college. Granny the Ho was into reading bodice rippers, but she also belonged to some book of the month club and gave me hand-me-down novels. Georgette Heyer was among several gothic and historical romances. Granny gave me so many hand-me-down novels that when I finally decided it was time to get rid of them, they filled the entire trunk of my hand-me-down Oldsmobile. I intended to take them to a women's prison since that's the only place I could imagine that would be glad to have enough bodice rippers, Gothic Mysteries and Regency Romances to fill the trunk of an Oldsmobile - but after a couple of months, I tossed them all into a convenient dumpster. Recycling hadn't been invented yet, and I never located a women's prison, which is probably a good thing.
More later . . . I'm late to work as usual, but today I'm dressing with care because I'm going to the happy hour that British Banker said he frequents. He had come over to Cafe Luxembourg last week as a change of pace. He lives on the same block as Cafe Lux, but it's typically too crowded for him and besides, they never discount the drinks. Regulars often get free drinks, but it takes a while to become Preferred Customers, like me and Gigi. After I check out his favorite bar, I'm meeting Gigi somewhere downtown. Last week, when Gigi and I visited her friend Prudence the Performing Artist and Bartender at a trendy spot near Stonewall, we met some guy Gigi said was such a prominent IT entrepreneur that I had to be nice. Gigi keeps up with that shit. I guess in New York Magazine or something. Anyway he'll be there tonight as well as a fellow Gigi calls Restaurant Jesus because he knows so many owners and bartenders. If you've decided to have a freewheeling summer in the city, it's imperative to know lots of restaurant owners and bartenders. It's how we get free drinks.