Education Is For Losers

Here's something interesting:* Arne Duncan, the Sec'y of Education, doesn't hold any degree higher than a bachelor's. In sociology.  It's true.

He's only got a bachelor's. In sociology.  Which means there are a lot of jobs for which he is not qualified.

Like sociologist.

Another one? Teacher. They have to get their master's*

I don't mean to demean his education. Lord knows he made it further through school that I did. A little. I'm just saying that you'd think the Sec'y of Education would have an advanced degree. Or at least a bachelor's in education.  

I don't mean to debase a bachelor's in sociology, either. It's just that a bachelor's in sociology is the educational equivalent of a bachelor's in sociology.  

I was going to list all the things you would not be able to do for a living with a bachelor's in soc. but I ran out of internet.

Instead here's a list of jobs you can do with that degree:

Social worker. I think.

Research assistant.

I googled "bachelor's in sociology jobs" and was told to "get an advanced degree."

Just to be fair, I know Duncan is not completely without experience in the education field. There are two instances:

 1.) When he was a young teenager he tutored underprivileged kids. 

2.) After college, he played pro-basketball in Australia.  

I guess that's technically one instance, although I'm sure he schooled some Aussie suckas on the basketball court, y'all.  Of course, half the time he would've been playing them "at home."  Which would've been home schooling. 

It's one of the great American beliefs that someone without a proper education can "make it." Dave Thomas and Wendy's, Bill Gates and Microsoft, me and Homemaking.  

But this is different. He's never taught. He was never a principal or headmaster. His time as the CEO (blech) of the Chicago public schools was not what you could call wildly successful.* And yet not only was he handpicked by the President, he's been called one of the most powerful Secretaries of Education in history.

Inventor, entertainer, entrepeneur, artist. These are jobs that don't necessarily require an advanced degree.

Person in charge of the education of everyone; some sort of education related degree would be nice. I'd take an associates in daycare, at this point. 

I'm posting because people don't seem to mind this, and I don't understand. No one would be cool with it if the Surgeon General had a degree in Film Studies. Though at least that person would be fun on trivia night.

In the end, what do I know? I'm just a guy with young kids who are just entering a public school system that does not seem healthy.

On the bright side, at least Duncan wasn't an art history major. He'd make a horrible Sec'y of Defense. 

*In the interest of full disclosure, my wife is a high school English teacher.

*They have to obtain it within a certain number of years from when they start teaching. Some states have relaxed that requirement due to teacher shortages.

*support materials, here, here , and here. And Arne's wikipedia page.

8 Days of Posting.

The first night of Chanukah was very successful.  Wholesome family fun. Presents, candles, singing dancing, latkes. I absolutely destroyed the kids with the dreidel. Won all of this year's candy and they took out advances on the next 4 Chanukahs.  Fools.

All very, very normal. Until we found Shalom Sesame. It's kind of like Russian heavy metal is to American Heavy metal. Almost, but then again, totally not. Also, it's educational. Here's a preview.

"Menorah Shmenorah, I want my Latke!"
"Latke Shmatke, I want my Menorah!"

HM

No Mo Movember

That's it it's all over. The days of wine and Mustaches are behind us. Thanks to all who participated or gave during Movember. My prostate thanks you.  You can still donate here or here, by the way.

So, how'd the Stache turn out? Pretty Jewey, actually:

As you can see, on my blog,we all come up Gimel (kind of like getting dealt a straight flush). 

Now how do I shave this thing off?

Happy early Chanukah!

Movember Musings and Tryptophan Dreams

Did everyone who celebrates out there have a good ThanksGiving? Good.  Ours went well. I cooked a 13 pound bird for two adults and two toddlers. It's about the spectacle, really.

This will probably be our 2nd to last Movember update.  As a reminder, Movember is November Mustaches against prostate cancer, you can donate here at the DadCentric team page, or at my very own Movember page.  Thank you.  

I really like the Movement the Mustache has shown over the past couple of days.  It seems to respond to it's environment quite readily.  Perhaps it's becoming sentient? We can only hope.

Without further jibber-jabber, Thanksgiving Stache:

Mustache, you've outdone yourself this time. Pumpkin Pie. Festive and stylish. And let me tell you, sitting here right under my nose, it smells delicious.  I mean, really good.

I wonder if . . . no, I shouldn't. But if I can just get my tongue . . . mMmm, Err, oh yeah that's Mmmph, (smack) so good (smack).

Oops. I think I shouldn't have done that.

Yep. It's Pumpkin Hitler. Of course, if his mustache had been anywhere near that delicious, I think we can all agree things would've gone much, much differently.

And yes, those are pie crumbs on my cheek. Sometimes, it pays to have a paper plate for a face.

Have a good weekend folks.  

Homemaker Man

Open House

The Peanut's school had Open House this week.  Our family's first. How did it go?  Let me put it this way:

They are studying the five senses this week in class.  Hearing, touch, taste, smell, and spidey.   

The teacher, who is very good, had a little spray canister of scent that she sprayed in to the air. Then she asked the kids what they though it was.  "Candy," said Sophia. "Cake," said Gabe, "Apples," said Mia.

The teacher asked, "Peanut what about you, what do you think?" 

"Pie," the Peanut said softly.

"Did you say pie?" asked the teacher.  The Peanut nodded her head yes.  The teacher smiled and said, "Yes, that's right, it's pie.  Pumpkin pie."

She actually got that shit right.  That is MY daughter.  I'd like to tell you here and now that I did not stand up and start screaming, "Yeah, you like that Sophia? What about you, Gabe, ya little bitch? Taste it Mia, yeah eat it up! That is the flavor of being intellectually bested! It tastes soooo good."

I'd like to tell you that I didn't do that, but I can't.  I've been banned from Open House forever.  

It was worth it.  

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Movember Update

Time for another Movember update.  Movember is a movement where men grow mustache's to raise awareness for Prostate Cancer.

The Holiday season is upon us. Donate now at either my page the DadCentric team page so that prostates everywhere can have a merry holiday of their choice. 

To help you open up your purse strings--and your heart strings (Slap! manipulation high five)--here is the latest incarnation of my glorious lip fur.

That's right.  It's Disco Stache! Shield your eyes and shake your booties against it's majestic glare.

I woke up this morning with glitter all over my pillow. I think there are fairies living in it. 

Homemaker Man

P.S. Got a new post up over at DadCentric as well. On the subject of playdates and why I can't get one.  It's high school all over again.  

Seeee Yoouuu . . . in Moveehhmmmberrr

So here we are, Day 17, more than half way through Movember and I've updated but once.  I'm sorry. Not the most effective way to fight prostate cancer, I know. I had to wait until this grew in a little before I posted more pics.  I do have some pride.

Especially since I contacted the AMI--that's the American Mustache Institute--about admission into their whiskery ranks.  I'm still waiting to hear (fingers crossed!) but I think with my mustache's latest developments, I'm a shoe in.  Plus, on the entrance exam where they ask "Why do you love your mustache?" I answered, "because it fights cancer."

With a little luck, I think I may even be in the running for The Robert Goulet Memorial Mustached American Of the Year.  Though between you, me, and the mustache wax, that award should be named after Sam Elliot. I mean, really now.

And I know the name a few of you are thinking. Fuck Rollie Fingers.  Sounds like an arch pedophile.

Ok. The afore mentioned mustache developments. I know you're curious out there.  Without further folderol, The Stache':

That's right. I've grown the Chewie.

Here's a better look:

Yes Chewie, you had a question?

Totally baddass, I know. I didn't think I had it in me.  This is post a good trim, too.  When I first woke up this morning, the thing was way intimidating:

Killer Stache'

So there you go folks.  I gotta think this level of mustache is worth at least a small donation at either the DadCentric team Movember page, my own page, or just at the Movember website in general.

Chewbacca Stache' vs. Prostate Cancer.  Cancer doesn't have a chance.

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In other news, my wife has been working awfully long days lately (for those of you who think teacher's hours are easy, you are wicked wrong.).  Sometimes she checks this space to see what's up at home.
Honey, we love you and we miss you like crazy.  We can't wait until you get home. We've all misplaced our pants.

Love,

Us

HM


P.S here's a pic to get your pulse raising, my darling:

Sun kissed Stache'

Bleffluvia/Movember update.

Hey everyone.  Sorry I've been a cruddy blogger.  We've been busy.  To sum up:


About a month and a half ago, we're in the car, my daughter starts this:

"Hey daddy, do we poop in our pants?"

"No! (I am sporting a firmly lecturial, anti-pants pooping tone. And demeanor.  Mostly.)  We do NOT poop in our pants."

"Daddy, do we poop on the floor?

"Peanut, NO we . . . wait a second?  Are you laughing?"

And she was.  She was cracking up.  We went on to talk about whether or not one defecates on the cat(sometimes), the dog, the car, and her brother (not when he's awake.).  We just laughed and laughed.

To my memory, these are some kindergarten level jokes.

Of course this comes up again and again intermittently.  She starts joking about chocolate poop and eating chocolate poop cookies and pooping chocolate (which would be the best/most tragic thing ever if she could really do that).  I role with all of it until she starts threatening to poop on her mother and me. I tell her she can't be joking like that. Nobody poops on my woman with the exception of both children when they were infants.  I've got to draw a line somewhere.  A line in the poop.  Unfortunately, it's a dotted line.

Cut to this weekend.

She's in the bathroom. I go in to help her finish up.

She gleefully informs me that there is "poop and pee, all mixed up in there.  It's all mixed up."

I'm tired.  I forget myself.  I tell her, "I know.  That's what you're having for dinner."

I'm not proud.  At least, I'm not until she replies:

 "I'm gonna put frosting on it!"

With frosting-a-cake hand motions.

She one-upped me.  The student becomes the teacher.  I am fit to burst.  With pride, I mean.

I ran downstairs and related the incident to my wife.  She laughed out loud.

Tell me people with older kids, am I wrong in thinking this is some 1st-2nd grade level poop humor?  She's like the Joan Rivers of Pre-school.  "Can we talk?  About poop?"

I know I should not be proud of this, but I am.  My chest is puffed way out.  With pride, I mean.
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On to our Movember update.  For those of you who are not aware, Movember is a movement in which those of us who can grow moustaches do so in hopes of raising money for prostate cancer research(You donate at my Movember page or at the DadCentric Team Page or just go to the website.).

Then those of us who have blogs post pics of our pelt-y progress.  Thusly:

As you can see, it's not going well.  It screams "pubescent lack of authority."  Or maybe "French-Canadian douche-bag."  Or Wendy's asst. manager.  And despite this horrific look, I still seem to have that dumb fuck grin plastered on my goofy mug.

I will keep trying though,  Because it is for a great cause.

 I do have an idea for next year.  I've been doing a little research.  Allow me to direct you to this article from BBC News.  It suggests that a highly effective method of preventing prostate cancer is frequent ejaculation.  It goes on to say that the primary method recommended is masturbation due to the risk of STD's.

This is not a risk with which I need concern myself.  I'm married.  And she's monogamous.  With me.  I'm pretty sure. But still, either way it's pretty much a win win.,

So, prostate having people, coming in 20ll to a private moment near you:

Jackuary!

Who's with me?

Please, no pics.