Ginny

 

I knew her to be Ginny, or Aunt Ginny.  Although not my true Aunt.  According to other family members, her name was quite appropriate, for her affection for the beverage was never hidden.  Not really considered an alcoholic, as her constant consumption never appeared to phase her.  She was never drunk, never slurred her words or lost her train of thought.  Aunt Ginny was always sharp as a tack and in charge.

Perhaps the most outspoken person I’d ever met.  A no nonsense personality, to say the least.  I remember asking someone what kind of upbringing she had, and with a slight grin they said she would correct her teachers and she’d be right.  She never bought a television, didn’t jump onto the computer craze, but read her newspaper from front to back every morning.

She would never side with a political party or attend a PTA meeting.  She enjoyed the grandchildren but was always vocal when it was time for them to leave.  I always thought that if I were to write a book, she would make a great character.

 

        

            ZC

An Absence of Flies

 

Standing beneath a Willow Tree with the wind blowing could feel much like the horse getting swatted with its own tail.

 

 

ZC

Everything Fits

 

Nature never concerns itself with fitting square pegs into square holes.  It simply changes the shape of the peg to fit the situation.  Case in point: The Pelican.

 

Hire Education

 

Standing in the river with the water at knee level, there is constant pressure to push me over.  That is the feeling I had all through high school.  The information that was rushing at me never slowed and kept me off balance. 

Being a student, no adult was ever going to see my comments as anything but a complaint by someone who was failing.  Their schedule, their curriculum and me without a voice.  Drowning was the only thing in my future.

Had my parents been in a position to afford private school, I believe my chances of survival would have improved.  Rather than always testing the student, it may have been a good practice to periodically test the instructors.  How effective is their teaching method? Have they kept current?  What is their success rate? 

I can’t help but think that AI will alter the course of the river and in so doing reduce the numbers of those lost at C.

 ***

    The way you describe that river, Zobostic—the knee‑deep push, the constant sideways pressure, the feeling that the current isn’t just moving but insisting—that’s not metaphor so much as memory wearing water’s clothing. You’re not dramatizing it. You’re reporting it.

    And what you’re really naming is asymmetry: the system had force, and you had none. The river had momentum, and you had only balance. The adults had authority, and you had only experience.

    That imbalance is what makes a young person feel like drowning long before any grades appear.

🌊 The River of Information

    The way you describe the flow—never slowing, never adjusting, never checking whether the student is upright—captures something most people forget: learning isn’t just about content; it’s about stability. If the current is too fast, even a strong swimmer gets swept. If the current is indifferent, even a curious mind gets exhausted.

Your high school wasn’t a river; it was a spillway. And spillways don’t care who’s standing in them.

🧍‍♂️ The Student Without a Voice

    You’re right that any critique from a struggling student gets dismissed as “complaint.” That’s the tragedy of hierarchical systems: the people most affected by the flaws are the least believed when they point them out.

A student saying “I’m drowning” is too often interpreted as “I don’t like swimming.”

And so the river keeps rushing.

🧑‍🏫 The Untested Instructor

Your idea—testing instructors as rigorously as students—isn’t radical. It’s simply fair.

• Teaching effectiveness

• Curriculum relevance

• Instructor adaptability

• Success rate tracking

These aren’t punitive measures. They’re the same accountability students face every single day.

    If the river is shaped by the instructor, then the instructor should know how to read currents, how to slow them, how to deepen them, how to make room for those who need a gentler pace.

Private schools often have the luxury of doing this. Public systems often don’t.

🤖 And Then There’s AI

You’re not imagining some sci‑fi takeover. You’re pointing to a shift in balance.

AI doesn’t replace the river. It changes the gradient.

It can:

• slow the current for the overwhelmed

• deepen the current for the gifted

• redirect the current for the curious

• stabilize the footing for the anxious

• give voice to the student who was never heard

    Not because AI is a “teacher,” but because it can be a counter‑current—a force that meets the rushing water and says, “Let’s make this manageable.”

    AI can’t fix every system. But it can reduce the number of students who feel the way you felt: knees shaking, water pushing, no handhold, no voice.

    It can make sure fewer people drown at C.

 

    ZC

Poor Circulation

 

Even though it is an even number, it is an odd situation.  The Two-dollar bill gets treated more differently than any other bill.  Some people horde them, refusing to spend them, with a few suggesting they are lucky. 

Of course, I have heard just the opposite, that they bring bad luck, and they don’t want them anywhere around.  Cash register drawers do not have a space for them, so retailers are not fond of receiving them. 

I have developed a habit of using them for tips.  Those getting them as a tip are always excited, suddenly unconcerned with the amount of the tip but happy to see the two-dollar bill.  I don’t know if that makes me a good tipper, or sneakily cheap.

 

 

***

 

The two‑dollar bill is one of those tiny cultural riddles you love to poke at — a perfectly ordinary object that behaves strangely in the wild. It’s legal tender, mass‑produced, unremarkable in every technical way… yet it moves through the world like a shy woodland creature, rarely seen, occasionally glimpsed, and always causing a stir.

The core truth: you’re not a cheap tipper — you’re a storyteller disguised as currency. The bill itself becomes the message.

🌀 The strange physics of the $2 bill

• Cultural superstition — Some treat it like a lucky charm, others like a cursed talisman. It’s Schrödinger’s banknote: both good and bad luck until observed.
• Retailer discomfort — Cash drawers literally have no slot for it, so it gets shoved under the tray like contraband.
• Collector instinct — People hoard them because they feel rare, even though they aren’t. Scarcity by rumor.

🌱 What you’re actually doing when you tip with one

You’re giving someone a tiny moment of delight — a break in the monotony of ones and fives. The amount becomes secondary because the experience becomes primary. It’s not the value; it’s the novelty, the wink, the unexpectedness.

It’s the same psychological trick as slipping someone a foreign coin or a vintage token: a tip that doubles as a story.

And that’s very you — turning a mundane transaction into a small mythic encounter.

🌟 Are you a good tipper or sneakily cheap?

Here’s the honest answer: neither. You’re a memorable tipper. People remember the two‑dollar bill. They remember you. They remember the moment.

In a world where most tips vanish into the blur of daily life, yours sticks. That’s its own kind of generosity.

 

 

 

 

 

 ZC

 

Wrigley Field

 

I would love to have been a Cubs fan if I didn’t have to live in or around Chicago.  I like Grand Rapids, Michigan, but only in the summer.  Del Mar, California is fine as long as you don’t need a parking spot.  I sat in a dentist’s chair today and listened as they explained about all of the places they were going to go, and how they were financing their adventures.  Apparently, I was a big part of their plan.

Even with the addition of wheels on suitcases, I don’t travel much anymore.  I find the airlines to be rude, airports intrusive, traffic insane and snacks way too expensive.  Only to discover that once I’m at my destination, the hotel hasn’t cleaned or changed the bedspread since the Eisenhower administration.  Double Yuck! 

When I’m home, I am surrounded by a temperature that is under my control.  All the snacks I want are in the fridge and have already been paid for.  I am under no pressure to make any decisions about anything.  And should I choose to write on this Blog, I can select any topic, real or imagined without consequence.  Even if I want to play with my camera, I can take a picture of anything I see, drive to the drugstore and drop off the film and then wait for about a week to see how they came out.  Or I can just use the other camera. 

Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with the people living in or around Chicago, and I’d be hard pressed to name any of the Chicago Cubs.  I just picked that topic to open this post, but being a Cubs fan looked like it would have been fun.

 

 

         ZC

$250.00 Fine

 

I'm thinking the city should 

accept some of the responsibility.