Address change

I just have a few minutes. The truck is at the door, the men are waiting. It's moving day and I have so much to do.

For greater exposure and features I am moving my blog to Wordpress. The new address is http://oldfartschooldays.wordpress.com

I hope you'll join me there.

James m

Milkshake

Welcome to the Milkshake School of Bus Driving! By the time you graduate from this class you will have a clear understanding of all the skills you need to operate a Calgary Transit bus - including, but not limited to:

- Taking tight, sharp corners much too quickly
- Jamming on your brakes, much too hard, with a good, solid, head-snapping jerk at the end
- Slamming down the accelerator needlessly hard to pull away from the bus stops
- Creating the perfect surly demeanor
- Not saying hello, goodbye, or even "kiss my ass" when your passenger says good morning
- Getting and keeping the seats filthy for the greater discomfort of your passengers
- Keeping the bus much too hot
- Jerking the steering wheel left and right - an absolute must
- Aiming for the really good bumps - to really put the suspension to the test
- Helping your passengers spill their coffee, effectively and efficiently, and frequently. Coffee's bad for you anyway.
- Creating appropriate levels of uncertainty and despair
- Scaring the shit out of other road users
- Driving like a lunatic so you can stop further up the road for a smoke break
- Smoking right where you know your smoke will waft inside the cabin
- And much, much more...

At Milkshake, we're happy to teach you the fine art of being a menace on the road. Just bring your attitude and a full pack of smokes, and we'll provide the frightened passengers.

Graduation is after our morning break today, so make sure you're there or you'll have to take the class again this afternoon.

Workload

This has been a long day, undoubtedly made a little longer by my best friend/chauffeur who - as he dropped me at the curb this morning - said: "Wow! A twelve hour day today - that's pretty long." To which I replied: "Thanks, in my mind I had successfully split it into two sixes, but now that's all forgotten. Thanks."

The truth of it is that the first six are a given anyway, so, rather than think of it as twelve hours I had convinced myself that it was actually only six extra hours - thus making it a little more palatable.  And of course, the indelicacy of my chauffeur did not change the reality of this, though I was a little perturbed at the time. 

I just finished my Mandela assignment, which was an rhetorical analysis of his inaugural speech from 1994. I always hope I have provided what fearless leader seeks, but ultimately it comes down to my interpretation of his written instructions. That's where I hope that my comprehension of his rhetorical expostulations is apropos. Or words to that effect. Anyway, it's done. I'll do a final reading tonight before printing it. 

Tomorrow I'll launch into the next three. In all honesty, until I came back to university I thought a month was a long time. Now I know that it's not. Still, this teaches the students about deadlines, doesn't it? Something I know quite a lot about. And about prioritizing - figuring out which assignment is the most critical at any given moment  In the insurance arena my customers were my assignments - I would invariably figure out how high a priority they would be in our very first conversation.

Sometimes from the workload I swear these educators don't realize that we're taking more than one course. But then, that's the same as bosses, isn't it? And customers! 

I'm going to do the math on my reading for this semester: how much there is, how long it should take and so on. See if I can get close to the feasibility of doing it all, because I swear - sometimes all the assignments feel un-doable. They're not - but they feel that way.

Co-op Program

Accepted.

I didn't have a lot of doubt, of course, but realism must always play its part in the emotional equation. If the Co-op program had fallen through I would have had to find another way to secure my experience, but being enrolled will definitely have its advantages.

In the Co-op program a student goes through the process of applying for "summer" jobs, then, once accepted he goes to work - doing the things he is learning in class, working (and networking) with people in his chosen field, being graded on his efforts by his employer, and gathering useful work experience for his resume.

Being enrolled gives access to resume assistance, to interview practice and procedure, and to a Co-op-specific student job board. In the ideal scenario the student gains experience, learns about his chosen field in the real world - not just the halls of academia - earns money to pay tuition, and makes friends.

I have been a little conflicted about it all, of course. Part of me feels that the spirit of the program intends it for young people, but really that that's just my sense of the universe at work, so I dismiss it. I am eligible, so why wouldn't I apply? Besides, in career transition my needs are as great as the youngsters' - perhaps even greater - so it's actually a no-brainer.

The first workshop is this afternoon and I am looking forward to it.

Distractions

The first assignments are just about coming due. Yesterday I plugged away at the Mandela thing, did some reading. I feel things slowly ramping up but there's no urgency yet. By this time next week I'm pretty sure I'll feel it, though.

There seems to be a bit more group work so far this term, and the marks of two classes appear to be heavily dependent on it. This is a little disconcerting since it can be difficult to divvy up the work appropriately, with folks' various talents leveraged and the work assigned evenly. We will see how that works out in the long term. Hmm, seems a little like management to me. I suppose as the reigning old fart I must assume a key role in this.

My best friend continues with his radiation therapy, with side effects now coming on full bore. I wouldn't be in his shoes for anything - although it could be worse: he could be enduring chemo. This is all a major distraction at times as I worry for him and try to stay positive without being trite. "Stay positive" I say. "I'm positive it hurts" he replies. Thanks to his treatments I've taken to doing jigsaw puzzles again - they are very therapeutic. I work on them in the hospital when I'm with him for his treatments, and on the bar at home in the basement to wind down in the evening.

Time passes so quickly when you're working a puzzle: "just one more piece, ooh just one more piece, there's one, just one more." Always just one more piece, and before you know it it's 11 o'clock not 10, and you've lost an hour of sleep. Oh well, it's therapeutic.

It's all good.

Camaraderie

The return to school following the Christmas break has been most interesting. Of course, I'm still much older than most of the other students here - they aren't catching up or anything - but that doesn't seem to bother the ones who were in class with me last semester. In the hallways, in the classrooms I've seen more smiles of happy recognition since coming back than I think I have seen for many years. It's great: there's a real sense of camaraderie which just would not develop if the kids were leery of me. This tells me I'm doing something right.

Anyway, how could anyone be afraid of me? I'm jolly. I'm jovial. I crack funnies and lighten the mood. I believe that there is no productivity in a comfort vacuum, so why not make everyone comfortable? Employers, I am available as a consultant.

In class this certainly translates well. You undoubtedly remember from your own experience those pregnant pauses when the teacher has asked a question - but nobody wants to say anything because they're not quite 'in the groove' yet, or they fear saying something stupid. Well, (within reason, of course), I will always say something to get things rolling - to break the proverbial ice. At my age I have no business being shy. The kids are nervous, that's completely normal, but my willingness to stick my hand up and say something - anything - to get the dialogue moving has proven useful on more than one occasion.

The difference between this semester and the last one is in the courses. First, I'm taking four, not five. This will open up some study time that just wasn't there before. Of course, here I am, using some of that new-found study time to write this little blog, but that's okay - this hones my writing skills and ultimately creates a better overall package. 

Second, the courses this semester - with the exception of GNST which is continuing from the Fall - are all in communications. I'm very happy about this because it leads to information overlap, which is an excellent way to learn - each course serving to reinforce the material of the others.  

The readings are piling up nicely. I suspect however that this term will see most of the reading dispatched over the first few weeks so I am making a determined effort (in between blogs) to keep up with the reading and even get ahead of it. 

This is the stuff of life, isnt it? Striving - striding forward - always working toward knowledge and our own perfection. Perfection is quite unachievable, of course, because it is in the eye of the beholder, but isn't it the effort that counts?

Creaks and Groans

Ok, so I'm back in the proverbial saddle. The warm Christmas weather has gone south (literally and figuratively), the wonderful, relaxing, rejuvenating, regenerating respite of the Christmas break is now long since forgotten.

It's week number one. I've enjoyed first and second lectures in all my new courses but one - and it looks as if they're all going to be fascinating to me. The best part, though, is that the knowledge in the courses is overlapping. The rhetoric course teaches some of the same points as the Public Relations course, and so on. This is the very best way to study. It's reinforcement - what we used to call "revision" in my youth - and is an absolute must, and it is all the more effective if it's not saved only for the last week before exams and quizzes - it should be ongoing, continuous reinforcement of concepts and facts.

I don't suppose I look it, but I feel smarter than last semester. I have a better idea of what the teachers are up to, and what they expect. You'd think I'd have that down from my last degree, wouldn't you - but you'd also be surprised what you can forget in twenty years.

I attended the Co-Op interview. Interesting, interesting... Good questions, good answers. Bright, young students, careful, concerned - oh, and me. I have an advantage over the youngsters, though. I know that they were very nervous about the interview, but I wasn't. Clearly, I've been through that kind of thing before - and in the scheme of things that particular interview ranked quite low on my stress-o-meter. Aside from anything else, as the ranking old fart in the room (including the interviewers!) I have absolutely no right to be nervous, so I was my own relaxed, ebullient self - I answered my questions clearly, with lucidity and aplomb, and even chimed in to ensure there was dialogue where it felt like it might flag.

There was one girl - no names (actually I don't remember it) - a sweetheart, really, a slip of a girl, very pretty, with all sorts of earnestness and enthusiasm. She seemed very nice to me, but in part of the answer to one of her questions she actually went out of her way to downplay the importance of the part-time job she works at. She said "It's really not all that important, is it?"

Okay, now this is a fundamental interview error - I know this to be true - and as the resident old fart I made a point of drawing everyone's attention to the enormous importance of first-rate customer service skills which you learn in a job like hers. The interviewers both agreed with me and we moved on.

Afterwards, though, on our way out the door I asked the girl if she minded a little advice - she said not at all so I suggested something that would help her in the future.

Using my best, most eloquent Toastmaster happy-sandwich evaluation method I told her that she came across very well in the interview, then re-affirmed that she should never sell herself short, then reinforced that she clearly has excellent communication abilities. I told her that - for the future (because she was very good today, no problem) she should be sure to emphasize only positive aspects of her experience - that she should learn to think of mundane things in glorious terms.

The poor girl burst out crying! I couldn't believe it! She burst out crying. I apologized left, right, and center - I really had been gentle and diplomatic, and I really had only meant the absolute best for her. My motives were 100% pure, and yet there she was - crying!

I kept apologizing. I asked her why she was crying (I really could not conceive it). She was crying so persistently that for a while I actually couldn't get a word in. Finally I was able to calm her down a bit and explain again that she had done very well indeed in the interview, my thoughts were only for future reference. There she went again.!

Omigosh, what to do? What to do? I have never seen anything like that in my life. Ultimately we parted company. I watched her walking down the hallway, snuffling all the way to the first corner, and away.

I don't think I said anything inherently wrong. On analysis of the moment I think there may (must) have been something else at work that elicited that kind of reaction. Even so, I felt absolutely rotten to the core.

Rotten. So rotten that I stewed on the incident for at least 20 minutes before I realized that I couldn't let it lie. So I returned to the interviewers and was lucky to find them still working in their office. I explained what had happened, explained that I sincerely hope that the poor girl's marks are good enough to get her into the program because if they aren't it's going to be like some kind of personality-reinforcing horror for her and she's going to hate me for the rest of her days.

I'm glad I got it off my chest with the interviewers. They thanked me for sharing the story and told me not to worry about it, which is all well and good but I'm still blown away by the poor dear's reaction. It would simply never occur to me that anything I could say to anybody would make them cry, so her reaction was a real shock.

Anyway, I have moved on because I must. Results? I won't know that for a couple of weeks. I haven't heard from the recruiter since before school started again, so I'm not assuming anything there. Life washes over me and I watch it happen.

J