Banjo mafia

They make you offers you can't resist. Like free lessons and party invitations. All I gotta do is make sure I remember them in kind, right?

So it looks like Ray and I will be jamming with the banjo band next Saturday instead of clamming (we can do that some other day that weekend anyway, and Ray pointed out that we have plenty of clams in the freezer, even though I pointed out that clamming is not really about keeping inventory).

So I have finished "The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao" by Junot Diaz and it was spectacular. Highly recommended. It mentioned Arawn on page 2, and I was a nut for the Prydain Chronicles in fourth grade, so I was sucked in immediately. It is about a Dominican ubernerd and his family, and to say more would be to say too much. Read it.

I also read "The Abstinence Teacher" by Tom Perotta, and it was pretty good. I didn't get the main story of opposites attracting, but the rest of it rang pretty true. Perotta also shares my skepticism of the way the word "choices" is deployed in education, if you read through the lines. There is a "mean girl" aspect to "you made your choice," a very narrow black-and-white deal, that while necessary with some kids for boundary-setting purposes, does not exactly make anyone, kids or adults, feel like nuance or even fair dealing is coming into play. All I know is when people start saying something about a choice you made, it is a lecture, not a conversation. It is a fact-finding mission, not a discussion to achieve understanding. And you're in the role of toddler, which is exactly how adults, or children who may often have to act as the adults in their family, want to be talked to, let me tell you.

Also, in prison, "choice" is a big, big word. I've been in prison a lot (for work, silly!), and I am consistently impressed with how much it has in common with school. Budding sociologists might want to pursue this line of inquiry, comparing choice in educational pedagogy with correctional rehabilitation methods. It might be a rich, rich vein to mine. Especially if you compare high school graduation rates (WA is 67 percent in 2001 is the first googleable abstract I can find, but it is in comparison to a reported 82 percent) and recidivism rates (60 percent of dudes, 50 percent of dudettes according to here but anecdotal evidence suggests these 5-year rates are in actuality higher).

Anyway, I choose my choice. When I'm not wandering blindly in the thicket of life, being distracted by stuff.

There were slash fires on the top of the hills that were clearcut by the highway tonight. That the wood could burn makes me a little relieved that maybe the hill is dry enough that we have a few more months before the soils loosen enough for the inevitable landslide. We were on our way to a party that had Swedish meatballs. And Pelligrino sodas in little bitty bottles. I love Arranciata. It was a hoot, and I may have come up with a depression-proof business idea that is, in a word, "Bartertown," with the help of an ex-journalist. His wife told Ray, "journalists are crazy." Yes, like foxes. Luckily we are short on follow-through. We'd rather write 15 inches then move on to something new. That's just who we are.

In other news: I get to go to the dump tomorrow. I may not even try to get out of it.