How NOT to look at their smartphone while zombie walking on a train platform or stairs.
Smartphones should be programmed to send tiny electrical shocks into your hand when you walk while reading them. Put the thing in your pocket until you clear the field.
I’m a TESOL teacher. Learning to use technology — appropriately — has always been a part of my job.
It’s the “appropriate” part that has difficult to deal with the past few years.
Yeah. Hi, Chat.
Forget about Zoom, LMS, video editing software, and all sorts of online sites that don’t need any knowledge of programming language.
I was making my own web pages in basic HTML and JavaScript back when people still though InternetExplorer was a good browser.
But tech is nothing more than a tool. And tools can be used well and badly.
And often the simple tech of a piece of paper and a pencil are all you need. No bandwagon mentality here.
So if anything I would say that, although I have always used technology to some degree for my job, I have had the luxury of experience (and a lot of mistakes!) to figure out when technology can help my job, and when it just gets in the way.
(FWIW I also teach a one-semester class about language, identity, and technology. And yes, we do analyze our selfies.)
I like cold weather in winter, especially on the weekend when I can take it easy and enjoy coffee properly.
I don’t mind rainy weather when I feel like being contemplative and writing.
I prefer clear sunny weather when I want to go watch a baseball game outdoors with friends and family.
I enjoy cool and dry windy weather in autumn when the falling leaves decorate the nearby temple and shrine.
What I don’t like is when the weather changes from winter in the morning to early summer by mid-afternoon, and I especially get irritated when people can’t tell the difference between weather and climate.
“You don’t need a Weatherman to know which way the wind blows…”
“A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do.” (Ralph Waldo Emerson, “Self-Reliance”)
My middle name is actually Thomas. I chose to use “M Thomas” as a pen name out of respect for my father, who taught me how to write. As a professional communications writer, he was responsible for lots of public documents for the NYS DMV, including traffic safety reports, driver manuals, press releases from the Governor, all sorts of “my boss will feel the need to edit this, so I will deliberately leave behind something for him to do so as he doesn’t screw up the entire thing” document.
I may or may not have adopted this strategy in my own professional work (I certainly adopted the attitude…)
Another reason is because I had a baby brother named Thomas. He passed away before reaching five months old when I was not quite 11. It had a major impact on me as a child (and indeed as the adult and as the father I am).
I have no sons. It bothers me that I may be the last Thomas in our family. For a while, anyway.
There is nothing quite like the feeling sitting in a busy place produces, when it is quiet. The sense of empty vacancy seems more restrictive than if one were crowded, surrounded by should to shoulder hip-grinders.
There is no vibe. There are no walls of personality off which to bounce your own. How else can one tell one is alive?