Would You Teach This Student?

Here is a picture of my 17-year-old daughter Kalypso.

For wearing this outfit, she was pulled out of all of her classes at Lusher Charter High School and she spent the day in the dean's office doing nothing but sitting in a chair and contemplating her poor behavior. She was also prevented from attending her college credit French class at Tulane University. She was supposed to go to detention this afternoon and again miss her French class. I told her to skip the detention and go to her class. I'm fully aware that there is value in learning to navigate through situations where difficult people throw up hurdles. So there are three months left in her senior year, and she has learned a valuable lesson in that someone at Lusher prefers jeans. This all reminds me of why I hated high school. I loved college though. Hope she does too. 

Black History Month Convocation

Every February my university gets together to celebrate Black History Month. Here is the cover of the program:

Malcolm X, MLK, Rosa Parks, the Obamas, Louis Armstrong, Maya Angelou, Frederick Douglass, all great choices. Even the speaker, Congressman Cedric Richmond, good choice, though I was confused with his speech about the difference between thermometers and thermoses.

But Oprah (TM)? Really? For putting her face on her own magazine? For unprecedented narcissism? For her forgettable role as Sofia in The Color Purple? For crying when authors she blessed with sales lie to her? For killing her dogs? For her bizarre relationship with Stedman? My school must be hoping that they can cash in on some of that sweet Oprah (TM) money like Spelman. Anyway, nothing against Oprah (TM) as a human. I don't view her as a person, but as a corporate entity that will by nature do anything it can to promote itself and gain more money and fame.

Muses Shoes and Life

We had a great time at the Muses parade last night. It reminded me of how much I love living in New Orleans. Thanks to archnemesis Adrastos and his lovely wife Dr. A for hosting the annual shindig. After much screaming and general shoe whoring, I was the fortunate recipient of these three beauties:

This one in particular is my favorite. 

It shows a demonic Ozzy Osbourne dark lording over the fiery pits of shoe hell. So you're thinking it was my general good looks that scored this prize? Nope. It's a strange story actually. I went to high school in Omaha with someone named Greta Olson, now Greta Olson-Landis. I last saw her 30 years ago. Through facebook she mentioned that she had an artist friend in New Orleans named Erika Goldring, and that Erika was riding in Muses. Greta said that Erika makes awesome shoes that are musician themed. So I set it up where I am going to scream "GRETA!" a la Stanley Kowalski at float seven, sidewalk side, to the last rider. And it all paid off. Sure, through this networking I have sunk further then imaginable into the bowels of shoe whoredom, but I think in the end the incredible awesomeness of said Muses shoe outweighs all of the moral issues.