January 27, 2002: Bathroom Scale, WSJ article on Hunter
Hi,
I was supposed to go to Detroit this weekend and visit some friends.
However, I got a sore throat, so I decided to stay here in Cleveland to get
better. I did end up having a pretty good weekend. I watched the new
movie "Count of Monte Cristo", which I really liked. I read the book (by
Alexander Dumas) when I was young, and have always liked it. The movie
highlights the fact that human beings are capable of incredible hatred,
revenge and betrayal. I also liked the sword fighting.
When I was in LA, I attended the Chinese Christian Alliance Church, which
belongs to the Christian and Missionary Alliance (CMA). So today, I
visited the Grace Church, which is the CMA church for the Cleveland area.
I really liked it. In fact, I think that I'm going to be going to this
church from now on. The worship was good (contemporary), and the teaching
was solid. They also have a variety of small groups. I will have to get
used to the fact that in this fairly large church, there are almost no
minorities (so about 99% white). I also saw this in the church bulletin:
This year's Promise Keepers Conference, "Storm the Gates", is in Cleveland
July 26-27. There is a $20 discount for early registration ($49 for
adults), but the deadline is this Thurs., Jan 31. For more information or
to register, call 1-800-888-7595 or go online at
www.promisekeepers.org/conf/conf10.htm.
I'm planning to attend the conference, since it's right here. If you want
to come to the conference, visit me here in Cleveland, and want to crash at
my place, just let me know. I'm not sure who the speakers will be, but I'm
sure that they will have some of the leading Christian male leaders from
around the country.
A friend of mine from Singapore, Wei Hsien Chan, is a private equity fund
manager. He is looking some information. He writes:
I'm evaluating a possible investment in a digital satellite TV company in
Asia for my fund. Can you let me know from your experience in the US or
elsewhere:
1. Are most digital satellite TV subscribers switching from cable or did
they previously not have cable?
2. What is the main reason for switching from cable to digital satellite TV?
Some examples and interesting anecdotes would help me out greatly - thanks!
If you have any thoughts for him, you can email him at: weihsien1@yahoo.com.
This week's thought provoking question: "If you could change one thing to
make life easier for your own gender, what would you change?"
This week's humor and end pieces were forwarded from Anna Man and Joel
Hornstein, respectively. The end piece is an article on Wall Street
Journal about the entrance exam to get into my high school, Hunter College
High School. My classmates are having a lively debating over the Internet
whether the writer is obnoxious or not. I would have to say that I really
enjoyed my high school years, as did most of my classmates. It was a very
special place. We actually had our prom at the "Windows on the World",
which is at the top of the World Trade Center.
Enjoy!
-Josh.
9235 N Church Dr #528
Parma Heights, OH 44130
(440) 884-1623
_________________________________
How to Lie to Your Bathroom Scale
1. Weigh yourself with clothes on, after dinner ... as well as in the
morning, without clothes, before breakfast, because it's nice to see how
much weight you've lost overnight.
2. Never weigh yourself with wet hair.
3. When weighing, remove everything, including glasses. In this case,
blurred vision is an asset. Don't forget the earrings, these things can
weigh at least a pound.
4. Use cheap scales only, never the medical kind, because they are always
five pounds off ... to your advantage.
5. Always go to the bathroom first.
6. Stand with arms raised, making pressure on the scale lighter.
7. Don't eat or drink in the morning until AFTER you've weighed in,
completely naked, of course.
8. Weigh yourself after a haircut; this is good for at least half a pound
of hair (hopefully).
9. Exhale with all your might BEFORE stepping onto the scale (air has to
weigh something, right?).
10. Start out with just one foot on the scale, then holding onto the towel
rack in front of you, slowly edge your other foot on and slowly let off of
the rack. Admittedly, this takes time, but it's worth it. You will weigh at
least two pounds less than if you'd stepped on normally.
_________________________________
I thought others might enjoy this piece from last Friday's Wall Street
Journal weekend section. Hope everyone is well.
WEEKEND JOURNAL
Taste: Meet, Compete --- The ordeal of entrance exams -- for 11-year-olds
By Amy Finnerty
01/18/2002
The Wall Street Journal
W13
(Copyright (c) 2002, Dow Jones & Company, Inc.)
It is barely light outside as my 11-year-old daughter and I make our way to
the
subway stop in our Brooklyn neighborhood. We are on our way to the Upper
East
Side, where she will take the entrance exam for Hunter College High School,
a
famously fine public school, admission to which is considered something of
a jackpot
for middle-class New York parents. All of the standards and rigor of an
excellent
private school, with none of the tuition.
But on this morning she and I are also officially entering a strange new
world -- of elite
academic credentializing and the ferocious competition for it. It feels a
bit premature,
but then New York parents, many of whom must put their children through
competitive
interviews for private kindergartens, are used to this sort of thing. I am
not, not yet.
After two expensive sessions to review the advanced math on the test, my
sixth-grader has figured her chances of getting in at slightly worse than
one-in-a-hundred, odds that she notes with philosophical good humor and
even relief.
She's thriving at her current school and at the moment is looking forward
to a
sleepover she has planned for later this evening. But enough about her.
We mothers and fathers are, as psychotherapists like to put it,
narcissistically
invested in the success of our children -- so much so that an unpleasant,
bureaucratic
and competitive admissions process inspires in us a slavish obedience and
enthusiasm. And the mention of "test scores" or "class rank" transforms us
from
confident grown-ups into insecure children.
These feelings must be familiar to any parent who, seeing a child's
high-school
graduation approach, has had to scan the college lists, read up on SAT
scores and
do some anxious back-of-the-envelope calculations about which schools are
possible
and which may be out of reach. But Hunter's admissions mailing, which some
parents I know have dubbed the "fuhgedaboudit" letter, suggests that it's
never too
soon to start worrying -- 2,500 sixth graders, it says, will compete for a
mere 240
spaces. And yet because Hunter is a public school and not a private one, the
contest is already taking on an instructive, democratic cast -- not that it
is any less
ruthless.
As we rattle uptown on the No. 4 train, a woman with a Brooklyn accent,
trailed by
her own glum, pencil-laden offspring, spots us. "You must be goin' to the
Huntah
test," she observes. She looks my daughter up and down, as if sizing up the
competition. We chat about our educational aspirations for our children as
they sit by
in silent horror.
In the same subway car, a clutch of seemingly street-hardened 11-year-olds
is
traveling, parent-free, with admission tickets in hand, toward the test
location at 68th
and Lexington Avenue. I'm guessing that they have not benefited from
confidence-enhancing tutoring, not to mention book-lined living rooms. And
their
parents aren't even dropping them off. My daughter eyes them with searing
envy.
We are 45 minutes early and it is freezing cold. In a coffee shop near
Hunter, a
dozen pre-teens, representing as many ethnic and socio-economic niches, are
fidgeting in booths or on counter stools, not eating the hearty breakfasts
ordered by
their parents who, by contrast, appear glowing and energized. Several
adults are
standing in the crowded aisle to free seats for the young and gifted.
At the counter, an East Asian father (Vietnamese? Chinese?) is coaching his
son,
talking persistently as eggs-over-easy congeal on the miserable boy's
plate. How
much ambition, one wonders, is being loaded onto the child's performance
today? Are
they immigrants? Are they poor? Is he the first in his family to have a
shot at the
American education gravy train? In a nearby booth, a mother with a Kate
Spade bag
pushes hot chocolate toward her daughter and tells her to drink it.
There are other mothers, fixing hair clips -- "How can you see with your
hair in your
eyes?" -- and suggesting last trips to the bathroom, but the fathers have
made a
stronger showing here than the women, in a strange inversion of school
drop-off
culture. Maybe the big guns only come out for events worth more than
$15,000 a year
in disposable income.
We have all been given color-coded cards, one to allow our children to
enter the test
hall, the other to allow us to claim them at the end of the ordeal. At the
entrance I
am stopped by two uniformed guards who inform me that "the girl can go in"
to the
building but that I can't. They seem unimpressed when I protest that "I'm
her
MOTHER."
It is dawning on me that, in the real world, 11-year-olds are free to roam
municipal
institutions unsupervised. It's also clear that, at events such as this,
some parents
are probably pushy nightmares from whom the children need armed protection.
My
daughter seems delighted by the doorway drama and by my lack of authority
in this
official venue. She kisses me good-bye and disappears into the crowd of
little
overachievers.
My yellow card tells me to report to the Kaye Playhouse at 12:15. There I
am herded
to the red section where, I'm told, my child will find me after she is
dismissed. A
bossy functionary on the stage hectors the ever-docile parents: "Please
don't stand in
the aisles. Please take your children for a very nice lunch and leave."
Nearby an extended family -- grandmother, parents, siblings -- awaits one
test-taker.
They are also Asian, and, to their great fortune, they seem not to notice
the woman
on stage. Their hope for the future emerges from backstage, smiling. His
expression
is quietly triumphant, and they all beam and nod. This is one young student
who
probably knows the difference between, say, "affect" and "effect."
As my own child walks toward me, I try to read her expression, but she's
poker-faced.
"It was OK, and I'm glad I did it," she says. "But I met a girl in the
bathroom who's
had 15 tutoring sessions!"
We were told that Hunter doesn't endorse test preparation services, and we
thought
our review sessions in the week before the exam would give us an almost
unsportsmanlike edge. Secretly I had been congratulating myself -- and this
is truly
pathetic -- for being organized enough to fill in all the forms and get my
child to the
test at the right time and place.
There must be a course -- perhaps at the New School or the 92nd Street Y --
that
teaches parents everything about the test-prep market, the clever tricks
that ease a
child's way up the academic ladder and into America's incomparable
meritocracy. I
wonder if it requires a test to get in.
---
Ms. Finnerty is a writer in Brooklyn, N.Y.