Behind The Iron Curtain: The First Day of School
A weird side-effect of getting older is an ability to throw around time spans that used to seem like an eternity not so long ago. It’s hard to believe that thirty three years ago on this day I was standing in my brand new school uniform clutching a bouquet of flowers almost as tall as I was, in front of the building where I were to spend the next 8 years. Behind us, proud and worried parents who seemed so old, but were probably younger than I am today, were getting ready to see their kids enter the school for the first time in their life. I can’t say I remember much of that day, but looking at these photos I can tell that I was worried and probably scared of what was waiting for me behind the big school doors on September 1st, 1976.
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Ahead of me were the years of learning and adventures, friendships, successes, disappointments, first love, pranks, great teachers, not-so-great teachers, and so much more; the best and the most care-free years of my life where just behind these doors.
I am always disappointed with how casual the first day of school is in this country, most of the time kids just show up whenever their school district decides is a good day to start. When I was growing up® all the school and college classes across the country started on September 1st, now known as the Knowledge Day. Everyone showed up dressed in the parade uniforms, with flowers, there were speeches and the obligatory “first bell” when a first-grader was paraded around ringing a huge school bell. Throughout the school years the reaction went from childish excitement, to playing it cool “been there – done that”, to a sentimental tear when hearing the bell for the last time upon entering the graduating class.
On September 1st I look at these photographs and think about so many September Firsts in my life. Today there is a First Bell ringing somewhere for some other little kid. I wonder what his life will be like…
Study in Design: Pronounce This
This sign bothered me for weeks. According to the Wikipedia “@” is pronounced “at” in this country and anything from “snail” to “strudel” everywhere else.
So what is it: Ashcroft, Ashcraft, Ashcratft, Ashcrstrudelft? Is it a little light bulb under the “@”? What is trying to say?
Yours truly kcm€€sha.
Continue reading →It takes a foreigner…
On 10/21/07 this country celebrated 15 years since I joined with the “tired, … poor,
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…huddled masses yearning to breathe free” when I first set foot at the Kansas City International Airport. I had a long journey in front of me, full of discoveries, surprises and even more surprises. I watched, I listened and learned about this country, people who live here and “The American dream”.
Over the years I learned that many things are not what they appeared to be from behind the iron curtain. As an old American saying goes: grass is always greener on the other side of the iron curtain. For example, Kansas City International Airport is not so much “international” and Yakov Smirnoff is not really a “dynamite Russian comedian”.
Being a foreigner (albeit an American Citizen for the past 10 years) automatically makes me an expert on all things American.
I don’t vote, and that gives me the right to bitch about the morons who elected current president, and all the other elected officials from senator down to mayor,as well as the morons who will elect the next batch of representatives. The only acceptable vote for the past 15 years would have been “none of the above” and I consistently voted that way by just sitting on my ass on election day.
English is my second language and that gives me the right to make up my own words and rules of grammar, as well as substitute any words I don’t know with a four-letter word of my choosing, and I am an expert in that area. I don’t want to hear any complaints about my English skills. I am a better speller than 99% of native speakers.
Over the years I was surprised to discover that unbelievable amounts of bullshit are being dumped on average American citizen on daily basis. Bullshit totally covers this country, clogs up hearts and minds of it’s citizens, controls policy matters, elections, education, medical care and love life. It takes a foreigner with a steady hand and a special shovel to uncover the truth from underneath the layers of bullshit lovingly piled on the average American. So here I am…. and I am ready.Old Photos: Education Side-by-Side
In 1958, six months after the Sputnik was launched, the Life Magazine ran an article comparing an American and a Russian student and drawing conclusions about problems with the American education system. Many of these problems are still with us today; while the Russian education is not what it used to be, the American educators are still busy making kids feel good about themselves, rather than teach, resulting in generations of students without advanced and, sometimes, basic skills.
You can read the article for yourselves and I will post just photos starting with the Russian student Alexei Kutzkov and continuing with his American Counterpart Stephen Lapekas in the next post.
Before you look at these photos, I want to point out that not all the Soviet schools in 1958 looked like this one, complete with chemical, physical and mechanical labs and not all the students were genii. Generally in Moscow everything looked better than in the rest of the country, but in every big city there were a few “show” schools, like the one I attended, happy to display the advantages of the Soviet system to the unsuspecting foreigners. Before the showtime an extraordinary amount of cleaning, scrubbing and painting occurred, combined with special deliveries of rare equipment and teaching aids; it wasn’t unheard of to serve improved lunches during the VIP visits; the school had to impress or else. Nevertheless, even without all these things the Soviet education system was one of the best in the world, not only producing world-famous scientists but maintaining high intellectual level in the rest of the population.
Continue to part II.
Continue reading →On Pleasures of Non-Suicidal Bicycling
When the Garmin-Chipotle bicycling team was being formed I was not invited. Maybe it was my penchant to ride wearing Hawaiian shirts, or my refusal to purchase a helmet, or maybe it was the fact that I weigh as much as Lance Armstrong together with his bike, something must have prevented them from accepting me into their team. I wasn’t surprised, Garmin ignores two or three of my job applications every year.
I was not discouraged by the lack of sponsorship (sponsors are welcome to contact me with proposals) and participated in my own Tour De La Crique Indienne or as you Americans would call it – Tour of the Indian Creek Trail. I discussed the pleasures of recreational biking before so I will not repeat myself. Today the weather was nice and I rode about 37 kilometers (23 miles) round-trip from my house to 103rd st. and Metcalf. I wasn’t in a hurry and had plenty of time to stop and take some photos. So there, I can ride a bike and photograph.Take that, Garmin!
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Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.