Heeeeeeeere’s Jonny

Actually, I’ve been here the whole time. But due to more than 100,000 spam comments and my lack of knowledge and laziness for dealing with the problem, I haven’t been posting to this site.

But my New Year’s resolution last year was to try to deal with the minor tech issues that send me screaming for the hills, and my pre-New Year’s resolution this year is to review last year’s resolutions (note I only said ‘review’) and apply my resolution from two years ago (Stop making New Year’s resolutions!)

In other words, I’m sending this out as a TEST to see what happens; and hopefully when I figure that out I’ll find someone else who can fix it.

More soon!

Same Love, the Next Generation

Here’s a hopeful sign that the times they are a’ changin. At at table of four kindergarten boys, I overheard one announce, “I’m going to marry Jason.”

The boy across from him said, “You can’t marry Jason. He’s a boy!”

Boy 1 said, “Boys can too marry boys!”

Boy 2 thought about this for a moment. Then he said, “Okay, fine. You just can’t kiss him.”

 Double symbol

How I Blew My Chance to Steal a Masterpiece

Detroit, city of my birth and upbringing, has gone bankrupt. And the Detroit Institute of Arts, an inspirational beacon of my youth, is in trouble. It was recently reported that the worth of all the art in the museum was only about $2,000,000,000, and that they might have to start lugging it all to Antiques Roadshow. They’re also going to need donations. And I owe them a lot.

In my senior year of high school, I took the bus downtown every afternoon to intern in the museum’s photography department. I was a budding photographer, and they taught me everything: darkroom skills, cameras, lighting, studio basics. I helped with various tasks, and they were kind enough to let me develop and print my own work.  I collected many of those photos into a portfolio that landed me second place in the country in the Scholastic Arts Awards – and also helped me get a full ride to the art school at Cooper Union.

It’s hard to put a price tag on that kind of experience. Or on such an inspirational collection. But if you did have to value such things, St. Jerome in his Study, by Van Eyck, is one of the museum’s prized masterpieces. As they were photographing it in the studio one afternoon, I was even given the chance to carefully lift and move it. It was certainly the most valuable thing I’ve ever held in my hands – worth many millions of dollars. And it only measures about twelve by nine inches. Framed.

Just small enough to fit in a high school kid’s backpack.

D’ohhhhh!

My Name is Rock. Miss Rock.

I love getting hand drawn cards from kids. Sometimes they get my name wrong, but that’s okay. In fact, when a kindergartner miswrote Roth as Rock yesterday, I thought it was pretty cool. After all, we male elementary teachers need all the boosts of masculinity we can get. Mr. Rock. I like the sound of that.

Oh, wait. It says Miss Rock.

Never mind.

IMG_0196  IMG_0197

p.s. And what’s with the black heart? What’s that supposed to mean?