Man, what a day! The assignments never end in this class- we were to find a picture to install as wallpaper on a computer in the lab.
We were to then write about a page information about what we chose-information about the artist- if possible- then move onto why we selected the picture we did.
I couldn't find my Dunce's cap- I didn't understand the assignment very welll, apparently. So I apologized to everyone for wasting their time by not having a printout.
My original selection was of two chrome-like figures, one male, one female that were stanfding together, seemingly touching bellybuttons. The picture was produced in modern art syle and one could see the characters hands leaving a web -trail in their passing.
I had initially found this picture during a research in my previous class meeting.
I found it both beautiful and easy to talk about. The meaning of the picture seemed to me to display a couple's joining their efforts to
"Create a web together with their mutual effort."
Continuing on, I wanted to mention that leaning forward against each other gave them a more secure stance as might when a couple has trust and love in a relationship.
Instead, not finding that picture after a couple of hours searching a web-site for it, I had to select another. Being aware of my impending deadline thnis morning- I saved a watercolor produced in the 19th century by a painter named Herman Wendelborg Hansen.
I pointed out to the class that Hansen had produced this superb action painting depicting band of Apache warriors probably fleeing for their lives after raiding some invading setlers. It is a very detailed painting- very detailed and depicting the frantic horses scrambling across rough, rocky ground pell-mell- the foremost horse's rider even viciously using a long Spanish style whip to spur it on faster. No one laughed when I pointed out that the Apaches weren't above eating a horse, particularly a lazy one!
I explained I had selected this print because the Apaches struggle in the 18th Century had been of national interest for the US Government. I pointed out that back then, just as now, there was blood being shed on American soil by terrorists. True- the Indian Nations were fighting to preserve their way of life. As my instructor pointed out- just who was the terrorist and who was being terrorized is a point of shame the American people can never live down. Had we been limited to the humane buerocracies employed today on associates of the perpetrators of 9-11, I wonder if the Apaches would have ever been vanquished. I am reasonably certain the violence and brutality depicted in this picture is a major turnoff to most of the people in the class, but as I mentioned-presently the actions of terrorists is constantly close at hand- a daily part of everyone's lives world-wide. The Apache warriors campaign of terror utilizing hit and run tactics have helped rewrite the battleplans for War on a world-wide scale. I

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[10/16/2002 9:58:16 AM | Ken Stafford]
So now I'm encouraging fellow classmates to unite our efforts and distribute some of the workload amongst ourselves. My Aviation Management class has 80 question worksheets for a 2 chapter test coming on Friday.
It's kinda tough, because the multiple guess questions aren't well written in my opinion. In other words, one can't easily determine the correct answer whether it's selection of 1 out of 4 good choices.
That's why I'm trying to get it divided into myself & another guy doing a chapter, then subdividing that amongst others!
We get about 10-15 questions each and share our findings.
Last test we all did fairly well, only it was a Big pain determining what he wanted- & I still never finished answering the questions.
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[10/15

Ok, what's with the space-saving feature of this blog? It's predecdessor had a most unusual manner of mismanaging indentions- ever other line had a hanging indention- throughout a 4 page story!
This cheapskate won't even give a doublespace between characters. I almost am ready to ask for my money to be refunded.

Posting this rewritten short story to SW might help the instructor to actually give me a grade in the future. I think he feels a bit of sympathy for all the effort I've put into the assignments. By neglecting to actually post a grade for any of the drivel I've submitted- hopefully my overall grades for his class will- as he says " Take care of themselves."]
Hmmn, what should I entitle the rewrite assignment given us by the infamous Mark Long? OK, 'Rewrite' it is! I suppose it's that or " As the Worm Turns"
Posting the said paper to this blog is part of the lesson.
So as the story continues-Blogville- Take 2- Action-
Please, Jill put some FEELING into it this time!2002 8:47:45 AM | Ken Stafford

Rewrite

Jill was standing at the mirror quickly checking her makeup and hair as were her friends Cara and Marcia. They moved away to make room for other women as Jill expertly tossed her glowing Marlboro into a toilet. As she lifted her foot to the toilet handle to flush, Jill commented “Even after college, raising a daughter and being widowed- I still have to sneak a smoke”. Marcia replied “Hey, we’re just happy you joined us this evening, we’ll work on the smoking issue once we get you moved back here. Jill sighed softly, looked down and said “Marcia, please understand even though it’s been nearly 20 years since my parents carwreck it still isn’t easy for me to come back here.
The trio had made their way outside to a table where 2 well-dressed men rose to greet them and gallantly helped them to their seats. Marcia and Cara each sat next to their husbands, placing Jill on the end of the table between her old friends.
The men rose while asking if they could get something from the bar for the ladies, quickly disappearing to join their buddies.
Jill looked around the festively decorated room, remarking “I think it would be more fun watching you ladies dance around the room with your high school beau’s rather than ever make one more lap for that horrible Gym teacher we had.
“What a strange turn of events” Jill said to her friends. “As much as I hated P.E.”-
Marcia chimed in “and YOU of all people getting a Golf scholarship to go away to that fancy IVY League school!”
“Well, remember that was indirectly because of Sam” she replied. ”If he hadn’t left me alone that summer.”
The years rolled away as Jill recalled Sam. Jill and Sam had been inseparable since the day Sam’s family had moved into the new house they had built next door to Jill’s family’s home. Even though Sam was a year older, they had done everything together city kids loved to do. It had been wonderful she recalled- the day Sam’s training wheels were removed, Jill insisted hers be taken off as well. When Jill had to have braces, Sam got braces, too. Until graduation they had spent at least a part of every day together. Hearing her name she followed Marcia’s gaze to the door. “Speak of the Devil” she heard Cara exclaim- “Look it’s Sam!”
Jill tried not to show her interest too keenly, but sure enough, entering the doorway of the packed high school auditorium was a distinguished, well built man, dressed in a slacks and sport jacket. He made his way through the crowd, stopping to shake hands and occasionally kiss an upturned cheek. Jill turned her back to him and appeared to join once again in her friends’ conversation. Cara laughingly suggested Jill let Sam use the opportunity to hobknob and try to garner some votes. Cara and Marcia’s men returned to take their seats from where they had been standing as bandmembers began to take their positions on a small stage set up across the dance floor.
Again her mind wandered to the summer after highschool. She had been offered a chance to travel Southern France with her girl friends, but she knew her parents couldn’t really afford it, so she had stayed home- she thought to spend a lazy, romantic season with Sam. By surprise, it turned out Sam, trusty old Sam, had impulsively headed off with his friends to Belize in an old VW Microbus. It had broken down, so they had claimed, causing them to be gone for the entire summer. She had decided to get a college Physical Ed course out of the way, so she had enrolled in Golf at the junior college. She had played golf a few times before with Sam and others, but with so much unexpected time on her hands, she had begun to vent her feelings on the hapless golf balls. Looking back, she reckoned that by that September, she had waylaid thousands of them with improving accuracy and efficiency. Her anger at Sam had not completely dissipated before she was notified of her good fortune by being selected.
Behind her Jill felt someone standing over her. She glanced at her friends’ eyes. Cara was looking over her head, whereas Marcia smiled at her and winked mischievously.

Sam stood behind Jill, totally at ease. He walked completely around the table, shaking hands, being careful to smile at and make eye contact with everyone at the table. When he came back to his starting point, his eyes widened and he threw arms up with an exclamation. “Sweet Jesus-would you look everybody- Jill’s here!” He moved to embrace her, lifting her from her seat and as she accepted his hug, he felt her pat him lightly on the back.
He leaned closer and said-“Dammit Girl, you’re looking GOOD!” With a quick breath he enjoyed her delicate perfume, and was rewarded with a brief warm kiss on the cheek.
Marcia took her husband’s hand and lovingly patted it after he invited Sam to join them.
Cara grimaced as her husband mentioned with somewhat slurred speech he hadn’t spent much time with Sam since the wild summer they’d had in Mexico. Marcia quickly said “Sam, I’ve heard you’re running for re-election, is that true?”
Slouching slightly, Sam was not much taller than the guys sitting across from him as he answered. “I’ve got a good chance to keep my job as Mayor, I believe we’ve achieved the goals the city council set out for us this term, but hey enough about Blogville politics!”
On the stage, beneath a banner proclaiming Class Reunion, the 5 piece band broke out in familiar music. Wordlessly, first Marcia, then Cara was whisked to the dance floor. Sam and Jill sat at an angle from each other at the end of the table. Sam reached for Jill’s hand and he hesitantly asked if she would dance. Quickly they slipped into the stream of couples gliding across the floor.
The evening went by quickly for everyone except for Sam and Jill. They danced frequently and sometimes managed to keep up with the table’s conversations when they sat down.
More than a few old friends came by and stated how nice it was to see Jill and Sam there together. Jill only barely managed to stifle a laugh as Cara said “Look how nice these ladies all look” as she lightly cuffed the back of her husband’s head as he looked around one time too many with a wandering eye.
Eventually, Jill stood as to leave and everyone rose to bid their farewells, Marcia gave her a pleading look and informed everyone that she and her husband intended to host a BarBQue that very Sunday. Sam put his jacket back on and followed Jill out to her rental car. The evening was rather cool so he took his jacket back off placed it around her shoulders, took out a cigarette and lit one for each of them. He reached over her and pulled her against his muscular torso.
“Jill” he said “I don’t want to scare you away again like I did after your parent’s funeral. God, I’ve missed you so much all these years- What I can ever do? Are you ever going to forgive me and give me another chance??” She shrugged and softly said “I was so confused back then, after the funeral I was terribly mixed up, thenI had to go back East” She was interrupted by the ring of a cell phone. Removing the cellphone from her sequined purse, she opened it and raised it to her ear. Even in the dim light Sam could see her face suddenly turn pale as she listened intently. After a while, she took a pen and wrote down a phone number. She deliberately folded the phone and put it away. Sam continued to hold her against his side and he felt her slight frame wracking with sobs. He waited- afraid to hear what she might say. A few minutes went by before Jill began to speak. With her head against Sam’s chest, she began explaining. “Sam, my daughter Pamela has been badly injured in a carwreck- she’s been placed into intensive care and might die.” “Oh my God, Honey!” he blurted “I’m so sorry!” Jill continued- “That was Pamela’s grandmother on the phone-apparently she has sustained damage to both her kidneys.” Jill’s voice became muffled as she buried her face into his tear-drenched shirt. “The problem is that they expect she will need a kidney transplant to survive and I can’t help her because her blood type is quite rare, it doesn’t match mine”
They stood in the parking lot, leaning against the car, two old friends holding each other. Jill turned her tear-drenched face up to Sam and he handed her a handkerchief. Gratefully she wiped the ruined mascara from her eyes and blew her nose. Looking away, her voice suddenly became stronger as she said “You know, Sam- believe it or not -there IS something you can do,…”

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Remember when you were forced to SIT DOWN & HUSH!!
Well, hopefully this site won't turn into anything of THAT sort-but time's the true test.
My apologies for looking like a grumpy 'ol Sorehead- besides, it's not my fault if you have a guilty conscience?:~)