Thursday, January 26, 2012

The McCollumn -1/27: "Does Sasquatch still matter?"


I had the opportunity to take time to be a “mystery reader” in Ms. Adams’ first grade class at Carver Primary last week, a joyful experience I highly recommend to all of you.
Seeing the happiness on the kids’ faces as you walk in the door, saving them from an otherwise humdrum and predictable day of schoolwork.
Ms. Adams had a book ready to go, a short text from the Hallmark people that was accompanied by a small, talking stuffed animal: Bigsby the Bigfoot, the miniscule version of everyone’s favorite Pacific Northwest woodland ape.
Ms. Adams laughed as I read through the text, offering color commentary to the assembled first graders about how we, that is the kids and I, knew adults could easily be fooled into thinking that sasquatches like Bigsby weren’t real. We knew better, I constantly reassured them.
Ms. Adams thought I was joking.
She ought to know me better.
Why not live in a world where the forests of Washington and Oregon are teeming with large woodland apes, entire colonies of sasquatches that try to stay hidden from the rest of mankind?
Who’s to say these noble creatures don’t just avoid human contact because all instances thus far have brought nothing but capture attempts and habitat destruction?
Is the crux of 1987’s sasquatch-ownership documentary “Harry and the Hendersons” true: even the love of a human family can’t dispel a sasquatch’s need for the outdoors?
Most importantly: who are we to tell children about what is silly to put their beliefs in?
I can think of far scarier things people put their faith in than Bigfoots. Newt Gingrich, for example.
We may live in a time that requires a seriousness of thought and mind, as economic crisis and political stagnation take hold around the globe.
We cannot, however, allow this lack of wonder and fantasy spread to the youngest among us.
Theirs should be a world of untold adventures and ultimate possibilities.
Space aliens, magical far-off kingdoms, time travel: all of those should be an easy day’s task for your average eight-year-old, giving them plenty of spar time to throw together an entire war with their plastic army men, if they so desire.
As adults who intrude upon those fragile worlds, let us be careful not to discourage creativity and interesting thoughts in their infant stages.
If we must set boundaries, let them be constructive ones that help our small friends better frame the worlds their minds create.
Let’s not tell them the Loch Ness Montser doesn’t exist; let’s tell them that “monster” is a hateful term, and Nessie, the Creature of Loch Ness, is a peaceful and happy animal that simply prefers a certain lack of human contact and then let them think of a new term we could call Nessie.
Don’t tell them the Mobile Leprechaun was probably a crackhead what got hold of the wrong stuff; have them write you a story or draw a picture about what they think could happen if a leprechaun showed up at their house.
Don’t say “Bigfoots aren’t real”; give your young tykes a chance to explain themselves and then have them work on a collage of potential things they think such an animal might need to eat.
Harness that natural creativity that these kids are wasting and put it to work telling stories, painting pictures and turning the motors of expression and creativity that could be vital for the continuance of this nation.
From this generation of dreamers could come discoveries and ideas that could change society as we know it.
So, parents, could I ask you this one favor?
Could you let your kids know about Bigfoot?

Friday, January 20, 2012

Opelika Observer Staff Editorial - 1/21: "Do it like D-Rock"


DaVonte “D-Rock” Ross, the city’s newly--minted “Athlete of the Year,” is a remarkable young man.
For four years, he’s served as the football team manager, often arriving to practice long before his peers and staying long after, but always maintaining a positive attitude and a spirit of helpfulness at all times.
He inspires his fellow students, offering words of encouragement and kindness to everyone he comes into contact with during his day.
Everyone at OHS knows D-Rock, and D-Rock knows them.
In an era where kids seem to be more self-centered and inwardly focused on what can be done for them, here’s a young man asking what he can do for everyone else.
D-Rock isn’t just an example for his classmates and peers at Opelika High; he should be a model for us all.
We should all be willing to help others in any way we can.
We should all be dedicated and steadfast in whatever jobs or activities we engage in, doing our utmost to give it our all as best we can.
We should all approach each day with a positive attitude and a smile, knowing that happiness can be infectious if we let it spread.
We should all be polite and civil to one another, remembering our manners and the dignity we are all afforded as fellow people.
And, most importantly, we should believe that with hard work and perseverence, we can do anything we set our minds to do.
We salute D-Rock for everything he does for his school and his community. He’s a Bulldog through and through, a young man who bleeds red and black.
D-Rock, thank you for the example you set for your classmates and for all of us here in your community.
Congratulations on your accomplishments, and we can’t wait to see what wonderful things are in store for you in the future.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

The McCollumn - 1/20: "Eliminate the imperative"


We speak scores of sentences daily, but we often fail to take notice of how we use the sentences we speak.
What function do they serve?
Are you a steadfast declarative denizen, stating ideas as you see them and think them, simply to inform the world around you?
Are you inclined toward the interrogative, forever peppering friends and random passers-by with a litany of questions, both necessary and rhetorical?
Perhaps you favor the exclamatory. For you, life is full of excitement, vim, vigor and verve, so much so that you and your exclamation pointed sentences must interject yourselves into a conversation before you burst.
These three groupings don’t cause many problems.
Most people fall into the declarative, simply offering observations as information without major amounts of bias or slant. Life doesn’t hold too many unanswered questions or unexpected surprises in the day-to-day, so the no-nonsense, no-frills period-ended sentence is enough to suffice.
However, there’s one other category of sentence users, one I often mind myself drifting into, that’s a sorry state of being to be a resident of: the imperial imperatives.
These are your command sentence users, the creators of statements which seem innocuous (and tend to end in a simple period like their kin the declarative), but actually contain some sort of missive, request, direction, order, instruction or outright demand.
They seem to infer the speaker must be a content-area expert on the subject to which they speak, even if evidence points directly to the contrary.
Every statement tends to come off as a judgment, handed down with a plonking certainty that is seldom taken seriously by anyone but the speaker. No one can be right all of the time, but this won’t stop those imperial imperatives from trying to maintain the illusion of intellectual dominance.
You’ll notice these people in conversations, as they can’t help but want to jump in in the middle of said conversations. You’ll see their eyes dart back and forth as other speakers are talking, as the cogs in their minds start to find a way to interject and take the conversational reins back for themselves.
Listening isn’t actually their goal; it’s just a byproduct of trying to maintain conversational control.
It’s a wonder other people are willing to put up with such nonsense.
Rather than try to impose your authoritative view on the world, perhaps a better way to go would be to drift back to the interrogative.
Question more than you answer.
Listen more than you speak.
Learn that every story from the person you are listening to does not require a spinoff personal anecdote from you that seldom has anything to do with the original topic.
Accentuate the interrogative. Eliminate the imperative. Latch on to the declarative ... and don’t mess with Mr. In-Between.

Friday, January 13, 2012

Opelika Observer Staff Editorial - 'Piddle, twiddle and resolve'


Sherman Edwards may have been penning song lyrics about the enmity in the Second Continental Congress when he wrote these lines, but we think those words may still apply today.
“Piddle, twiddle and resolve; not one damn thing do we solve.”
Heck of a motto, but we dare say the Cooper Library Board couldn’t have written a better one for itself.
With Monday’s meeting, the recent genealogical section disagreement continues on, as board chair Aimee Sikes proposed a survey of genealogical section users be taken, so board members would have access to a “full range of information” before they made their decision.
The proposed survey would ask patrons where they are from and how they found their time in the section, and also ask if any changes need to be made to the section.
This proposal was met with nods and murmurs of approval from the various board members (save Charles Wacker, who seemed to urge greater action than the ‘Let’s put this aside for several months and pray it goes away’ mentality offered by others), while GSEA members, council officials and we members of the news media looked on with confusion, anger or extreme disappointment.
No motion was made and no vote was taken by the library board regarding this survey scheme, so, to the best of our knowledge, it has yet to be officially implemented, and for that we are thankful.
We would point out the survey would be devised by library director Susan Delmas and reference librarian Marsha Sanson, library representatives who have repeatedly stated their disdain of potentially having to reorganize the genealogical section.
In a letter advocating Dewey to library board chair Aimee Sikes, Sanson goes so far as to suggest the following:
“One of the most fundamental library principles is serendipity. this (sic) means that patrons are supposed to be able to find materials accidentally on the shelf when looking for something else.”
Speaking as people who have been library patrons for most of our lives, we say we prefer things being where they should be, in a logical, alphabetical order that makes sense.
We want to find books by choice, not by accident or happenstance.
Instituting such a survey would also fail to reach people who have given up on the Cooper genealogical collection due to its current crop of issues:
- Inaccessibility to older and disabled people due to its cramped, often over-heated third-floor locale,
- Its lack of usable workspace for research purposes
- Or those frustrated with the way the section is filed or the hostility they have encountered from various members of the library staff.
Treat people badly enough, and they stop coming back.
We agree with the library board on one thing: the library should serve all of its patrons.
We just don’t think that’s what’s happening there now.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

The McCollumn - 1/13: "Customs, not rules, now reign supreme"


“The Rules aren’t really The Rules any more,” Dr. Ash said during one of our English Education classes, of those irrefutable Rules of Spelling, Grammar and Usage that are said to govern our language and how we use it.
“No, they’re the Rules,” the Inner Voice said. “It’s non-negotiable. We capitalize them because you can’t revoke them. What is she on?”
“We have customs now. Customs can change and  be modified with use, letting the users of the language make choices as the language to continue to grow and expand,” Ash said.
“Absolute twaddle,” the Inner Voice said then, almost two years ago.
The Inner Voice now - well, Dr. Ash may have had a point.
Take the grandfather of all of the Rules, “I before E, except after C,” as a prime example.
We grew up with the bedrock certainty that when questions of spelling arose involving those tricky vowels, our handy mnemonic device would be there to bail us out.
The I would come before the E.
The Rule said it. It had to be so.
It was The Rule, after all.
Ancient. Species. Science. Society. (To name just a few)
All I, followed by E, directly after C.
So much for the rule of The Rule.
Once the monolithic Rules come falling down, it’s easier to pick apart the lesser ones.
Why bother with putting that comma before ‘and’ in items in a series? Folks aren’t going to notice the Oxford comma, and even fewer will know it by its hoity-toity name.
It’s unnecessary, taking up time, space and valuable ink, so journalists are taught to avoid it at all costs.
Even my fellow English majors are split as to whether to teach it to their students, which is why people use the comma at will, changing usage even throughout their own writing.
Truth be told, it isn’t vital. It might provide pause for breath or reflection, so you might have time to say “Well, that is indeed a list of items,” or some such benign exclamatory remark.
We live in the world of customs now, not rules. Customs allow change as change is needed.
Utility, not allegiance to moribund mechanical mores, is the key.
We need our language to be ready to move with us at our speed, and rules just slow that process down.
Activity creates definition, and we are taught to mobilize our language to use it as we choose to, empowering us to be masters of our own lingual destinies.
Verb frequently and explicitly.
(Think of how many times you’ve used the verb “Google,” as in “Google it” in such a fashion. We use it 10 times a day around the office.)
Adjectivize words as you need them.
(Any student of Auburn University’s Don Wehrs knows this trick, as we’re empowered to use Wehrsian adjectives whether talking about the Austenian narrator or Garcia-Marquezian  magical realism.)
Simply do what you feel and worry about defining it later.
We create rules in order to bring structure and function to a world that lacks both, but we strict grammarians should learn not to fight against the natural order of things.
Chaos will always revert to chaos, regardless of the many preventatives and precautions in which we put our faith.
The rule of The Rules is over, and, unlike the customs that replace them,  that seems doubtful to change.


Friday, January 6, 2012

Opelika Observer Staff Editorial -1/6: "Reorganization is overdue"


To many of you, our recent focus on the genealogical section of Lewis Cooper, Jr. Library may seem odd.
“Why does this matter?” is a question several of you have stopped to ask us, so we feel the need to further explain ourselves here.
It would seem to be a trivial issue, a squabble between an organization that ponied up a decent sum of money to help build and maintain the genealogical collection and a library board and staff forced to maintain a section seldom used by members outside of said organization and a few others researching their family histories.
Why involve ourselves in this turf war, especially since so few people actually seem to care about it?
- Because promises were made and not kept.
(In 2007, then library board chair Ron Dunson and head librarian Susan Delmas agreed to rearrange the genealogical section from Dewey to an “alphabetical ‘state’ order.” The current section still sits in Dewey, despite the promises and assurances, and the board’s recent vote to retain Dewey means the new Segraves books will also be integrated under Dewey.)
- Because this problem could be indicative of a host of other issues at Lewis Cooper Library.
(Repeated issues with library staff engaging in rude behavior to patrons, possible structural concerns, the weeding out of genealogical collection books, just to name a few that we’ve begun to find)
Mainly, we keep coming back to a simple question.
Which is better? Serving the people you were appointed to represent or serving an ideology for the sake of adherence to policy?
We suppose it depends to whom you ask the question.
To the members of the Genealogical Society of East Alabama and a majority of the city’s elected officials (as well as the editorial board of this paper), serving local people matters more.
To the current library board and staff, however, it appears that rigid, dogmatic adherence to unity within a library system matters far more than average patron needs.
It’s the almighty Dewey, not the researcher or the benefactors that matter.
We just find it strange when the people who use this section the most (the people who’ve cared about it, built it up and helped the library maintain this portion of our history) ask for a change that would help researchers, why not move to do it?
If public servants aren’t working to serve the public, then what are they doing?
This may be a small problem in a forgotten section of our library, but it’s indicative of larger issues that need to be addressed.
The next Cooper Library Board meeting is Monday, Jan. 9 at the library, conveniently called on the eve of the BCS Championship Game.
We’ll be there, however, and we encourage you to be as well.
Let this board know that people matter.
Let them know that Opelika should come first, always and forever.

Thursday, January 5, 2012

The McCollumn - 1/6: "Expect me to be just who I am"


New Year’s Eve is always a holiday of expectations.
We celebrate not the actual year that lies behind us, the experiences that shaped us and got us to the point where we are, but the anticipation of the new year and the symbolic fresh start it brings to our lives.
The future is bright, shiny and free of blemishes; the past is old, craggy and possibly on fire. There’s nothing good for us there.
Bolstered in this spirit of New Year’s revelry, I took the opportunity to visit an old friend in Athens, Ga., for my New Year’s festivities, a visit that would culminate in a New Year’s Eve party thrown by a multi-millionaire magician and bird enthusiast at his mansion.
“Awesome mansion party,” the Inner Voice said on the way to Athens. “There’s no way this can be bad.”
English major that I am, I should have remembered my Robert Burns:
“The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men/ Gang aft agley,/ An lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain/ For promis’d joy!”
Yes, instead of happiness and revelry, I engaged in what was possibly the most awkward, isolationist experiences I’ve ever had in my life.
Never in my life had I ever been a part of a group of people in which I felt so completely alone.
My presence seemed to not be scorned or maligned, but ignored altogether. Indifference is far worse than hatred. Hate I can take; it means I still have enough of a presence to make you feel something, even if it’s a negative emotion. Indifference is simply inhuman.
The kindest, most down-to-earth person I met all weekend was the multi-millionaire magician, a self-made man who seemed to value the collection of people gathered for his party far more than the wonderful possessions that adorn his palatial estate.
It was one of those alienating experiences that forces a certain amount of self-awareness and introspection.
And I’m so glad it happened.
We all want to be liked.
We all want to belong and make friends.
We all want people to think we’re interesting.
These things are true.
But, in the end, what should really matter is if we like ourselves.
As Editor Woods so often has said to me, quoting Polonius’ advice from Act I, Scene 3 of “Hamlet”:
“This above all: to thine own self be true.”
I get into a bad habit of wanting everyone I come into contact with to like me.
I analyze the situation I’m in and narrowly tailor myself to the version of Cliff that I think would be best suited to said situation.
Instead of being me, I channel one of my “characters” and muddle through it as best I can, keeping me from knowing them and them from really knowing me.
This ends now.
I’m finally reaching a point in my life where I don’t care what others think.
If you jell with me and my vibe, great. Let’s hang out.
If not, well — that’s great, too. Nice to have met you. Let’s move on to people we do want to hang out with, people who help us be the us we want ourselves to be.
The best of times is now.
Live and love as well as you can.
Make each moment last.
But, above all:
Be you.