#fuddy-duddy

[girltownblog]

A day of one's.

January 1, 2011. 01-01-11. Do you have any idea what this means?!?! Well, this year is going to be #1, of course! I was ----this close to not going out for New Years. As the day grew I felt less and less in the mood. But I sucked it up. I started getting ready (with the aid of my Jay-Z Pandora station) and I made it through. I'm so glad I went out and didn't trust my fuddy-duddy instinct to drown my sorrows in a sad cup of hot chocolate and a bowl of homemade popcorn. I can do that any night ;) I think I have to do that a lot more...get over my fuddy-duddy instinct. Because despite my outgoing, talk-too-much, people-loving attitude, I LOVE to stay in. I love Netflixing my heart away and hunkering down under the covers with cats sprinkled in there somewhere. It's glorious. But only glorious when it's rare. Like all good things, they are only their best in moderation. And here's to 2011! The NUMBER 1 year, by default. ps. My actual New Year's Night really wasn't that exciting (story wise), although enjoyable. I ran into a bunch of people, which was delightful. AND I did get a lot of (mean) glares from the same-sex, due to the red dress, of course. I don't think I've ever experience a mean glare. They are pretty funny looking, really. Yours futuristically, 25swf

[co-pastor]

Delusions of Grandeur

Ok, maybe I'm an old buddy-duddy.  Maybe I just don't understand because I don't have kids, but I don't get the obsession with graduation.  

Don't get me wrong.  I have very proudly graduated from three institutions - high school, college, and seminary.  I was ecstatic on those days - proud of my accomplishment and glad to be finished.  On those graduations days, there was a sense of zeal, amongst my classmates and I, about the ending of one thing and the beginning of another.  I get the joy of graduation.

What I don't get is why there are so gosh-darn many graduations these days.  Is it really necessary to have a preschool graduation?  An elementary school graduation?  A middle school graduation?  Does the average 4.5-5 year-old feel any real since of zeal or excitement about the end of one era in life and the beginning of another?  Do they feel a sense of accomplishments?  I wager that no, they do not.  And even if they do experience some modicum of pride at making it through the rigors of preschool, is it really  necessary to have a graduation?  Do thirteen and fourteen year-olds really need more reason to be smug?  

I think that, with the hyper-reaction to these life transitions we're setting up a bad dynamic of expectation.  Are these children going to want a mortarboard and a rolled up piece of copy paper to mark every transition in their lives?  Ok, maybe that's a bit extreme, but I do think there is harm in overly celebrating these little accomplishments.  It demeans the big ones.  Will high school graduation actually have any real meaning after so many years of graduating?  

Having watched two preschool graduations this week, with another one or two to go, I can see that the children are getting very little out of it, so it makes me wonder, what are the adults getting out of it?  They, clearly, are the ones pushing for such things - whether it's the teaches or the parents.  I haven't heard a single preschooler talk this year about graduation.  If they don't care, why do we?  Is it some sort of attempt to encapsulate childhood and slow its steady progress into maturity?  If so, what purpose does that serve in the life of the child?  

I'll going to endure these two more graduations because it is the appropriate thing to do, but I am going to hope, when/if I should have kids of my own, that I will be just as annoyed at these silly delusions of grandeur.

[crazyrebelscarves]

Fuddy-Duddy.

It's a word.

[turtlewit-blog]

i'm such a tool i'm such a tool i'm such a tool i'm such a tool i'm such a tool i'm such a tool

I should have posted this yesterday.

But anyways, after work yesterday while waiting for the bus stop I pulled out one of my various psychology textbooks and began to read it aloud to myself in a "fuddy-duddy" british accent. Then it occured to me that I should probably check my surrounds to ensure that I wasn't making a complete ass out of myself. So I'm looking around, still reading my textbook aloud and I notice --mid-sentence mind you-- that there's someone in the bus shelter behind me.

I don't know if they heard or not. Just thought I'd share.