3-2-1 Contact!

I found chemistry and physics impenetrable subjects in high school. In college, I stuck close to medical anthropology and left bio, chem, physics, and astronomy to the science heads. But that doesn't mean I'm not interested. In fact, I'm a big fan of science shows on TV. Nova, The Universe, Planet Earth, How It's Made, Mythbusters, are always welcome on my TV, but my love of all those shows started with a program that aired when I was a child. It all started with 3-2-1 Contact.

3-2-1 Contact aired on PBS in the 1980s. Every week had a theme like food or gravity or computers (laughable in the 80s). At the beginning of its run, 3-2-1 Contact episodes featured vignettes with three college-aged buddies: Marc, Trini, and Lisa who would perform science experiments at their hangout and sometimes go out and visit scientific places. Trini went to a lab with an electron microscope, Lisa got to take an enviable hot air balloon ride, Marc went to a speech therapy lab. They panned for gold. They helped out a glass-blower. It was awesome.

At the end of episodes, there would be an episode of the Bloodhound Gang--a filmed multi-day mystery that could be solved using such science-y things as a pinhole camera or disappearing ink. One mystery hinged on finding out what kind of wood does not float (hint: it's ironwood). Also, the Bloodhound Gang had an awesome theme song that I will be happy to sing on request. Oh! One more thing! The kids who called themselves Bloodhound Gang (Vicki was their leader) worked for the never-seen Mr. Bloodhound. When the phone rang, one of the kids would answer, "Whenever there's trouble, we're there on the double. Mr. Bloodhound isn't here."

Have I mentioned that I LOVED this show??

As the years went by, Marc, Trini, and Lisa (and their hangout) were replaced. The new kids sometimes hung out at a diner. They still visited labs, doctors' offices, and observatories, but the weekly themes got more ambitious. In fact, one week-long theme took 3-2-1 Contact to Antarctica. We got to see a penguin rookery (where I learned the work "rookery") and saw some of the scientific research done at the South Pole. The kids would invariably have a "friend" in the place where they visited--a friend who would take them around, translate, and show them everything they needed to know. This spawned a joke between a friend and me when, many moons ago, my friend Michele planned a Chinese New Year party. In order to obtain authentic food and treats for the party, we went shopping in NYC's Chinatown. Among the signs written only in Chinese characters, we were at a loss as to where to go, or even what shops would have what we needed. I can't remember who said the following, but I suspect it was me. "You know what we need?" one of us said, "we need to suddenly meet up with out friend Ling who will take us to all the right places." Sadly, Ling never materialized, but a store selling pork buns was discovered, and the party ended up being great.

When the "new" 3-2-1 Contact was on, I was probably about 12 or so. It was a spongy age. I watched those shows and absorbed everything. I didn't know it was happening. I just knew I loved the show. Oh, I wish I had had a DVR back then! I subscribed to 3-2-1 Contact Magazine for far longer than I probably should have. (I was old.) One week featured a series of shows that was a particular favorite. It was a series on Malaysia. At the time, I wondered if I'd ever make it halfway across the world to this fascinating place. Well, crazily enough, I got to go this summer. I didn't get to see a native Malaysian forge a Kris dagger (like I did on the show), but I did get to see Malaysia's oldest rubber tree.

The strange fact is that this little show had a huge effect on me. I still think about it a lot, about the time Trini made a boat out of clay, or the time Marc got to put numbers on bees and watch them do their wiggle dance, or the time we learned how much stuff someone at the South Pole has to wear to keep warm. And every damn time I see a hot air balloon, I think of Lisa getting to take that magical trip. I didn't end up a scientist, but I did end up curious about everything, which is, I suppose, is even better than knowing everything.

Back to Work

I can't believe it's been more than two months since I last posted. In my defense, a lot has been going on, including--but not limited to--a new niece, a conference in Malaysia, and a visit home. But it's time to get into the lovely comfortable routine of Back-to-School (and that also means getting back into the Blog-A-Week thing). I'm actually looking forward to a little bit of routine because I've spent the last two months in constant motion, and it'll be a relief to go to the same place every day for a while. Besides that, I like my job a lot and that's what this particular blog entry is all about. I actually wrote the following while in Malaysia, but this is the first opportunity I've had to type it here.

Almost every job has some sort of hidden perk. I say 'almost' because there's just nothing redeeming about a telemarketing. Boring jobs, for instance, can be great for catching up on crossword puzzles. Einstein's boring job at the patent office allowed him a lot of time to conduct what he called "thought experiments." Lovers of post-it notes, file folders, and paper clips (you know who you are) may have office jobs where such things are available for pilfering. Any job can offer such unadvertised benefits as free ill-gotten photocopies or even mortgage incentives from the company credit union. But the hidden perks are not the kinds of things that come up in the final interview. They are the kinds of things that you only find out about on the job.

I have been constantly surprised at the hidden perks at my job. The unconcealed perks are quite good too: wonderful supportive colleagues, amazing students, an office of my own, a steady paycheck, medical and dental insurance, a parking spot, and vision coverage that allows me a new pair of glasses every two years. As I start my fourth year as a full-timer, what I've noticed is that the hidden perks were also completely unexpected. 

Being a music teacher--specifically a teacher of voice--I am there at the beginning of musical careers, and therefore involved in a bustling music scene. Sometimes I get to participate in musical events. One of my former students is a songwriter, and he asked me to sing back-up on some of his songs. With him, I've had the chance to play gigs in cool little clubs and bars, something I've always wanted to do. I'm getting my chance now, and I never expected that. How fun is that?

For the last two years, one of my standard assignments has been a CD review. It's designed to get my voice students to think and write critically about their vocal models. The unexpected consequence is  that I learn about musicians I might never know otherwise. Some of my discoveries have been new and cutting edge acts, and some have been composers and performers of the past. My students have introduced me to Susannah McCorkle, Tegan and Sara, the Pharcyde, Mindless Self Indulgence, the Bloodhound Gang, and Blossom Dearie, among others. For the presence of this new music in my life, I am eternally grateful.

Finally, my job allows me to meet a hundred new people every semester. The majority of those folks come and go, but every once in a while I'll make a friendly connection with a student that lasts after the class is over, and maybe even after they've moved on to another school or another opportunity. I've made three or four really good friends over the last couple of years. Believe me, it's not something I expected. I certainly expected to make friends with my colleagues--and I have, but I never imagined that I would meet some of my closest buddies for the first time by calling their name on the roll sheet. But that's what's so delightful about it.

The unexpected things are sometimes the most fun. My job may be difficult, and teachers these days may have to do a lot with a little, but the hidden perks of the job make it more than worthwhile. After all, there's no supply closet at work; I have to buy my own post-it notes. But that's okay because I've got rhythm, I've got music, and I've got my friends. Who could ask for anything more?