From D.C. with love

My lovely lady Danielle is in town this week, so in her honor:

Before our first meet as seventh-graders on the middle school team, someone made up half of Danielle's floor routine. Maybe it was our coach or another gymnast. Danielle selected a rearrangement of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" that was quite rockin' and not kiddish, if you can imagine such a thing. The opening choreography worked. But whoever started the routine never got around to finishing it. 

At the competition, Danielle still didn't have the rest of the routine. Nor did she have it when she saluted the judge and the music began. We watched as she performed the first half. Then, pumped with creative spirit and adrenaline, she free-styled the second half by running in circles, leaping, and front handspringing. She repeated these elements until the music ended. Her score was lost in the annals of time, but you can be certain we rewarded her with the loudest of applause. And a bit of giggling.

When all the world's your stage

"Good job with the floor routines," Greg says as the girls line up at the end of practice.

"They should be on YouTube," one girl says.

Natalie's eyes light up.

"Let's shoot higher than YouTube," Greg says.

"How about Facebook?" Natalie says.

Fair enough.

Of Music and Nincompoops

I read this article (perhaps "rant" is the better word?) and must throw in my two cents, especially in regards to this excerpt:

Mark Bauerlein, author of the best-selling book "The Dumbest Generation," which contends that cyberculture is turning young people into know-nothings, says "the absence of technology" confuses kids faced with simple mechanical tasks.

But Bauerlein says there's a second factor: "a loss of independence and a loss of initiative." He says that growing up with cell phones and Google means kids don't have to figure things out or solve problems any more. They can look up what they need online or call mom or dad for step-by-step instructions. And today's helicopter parents are more than happy to oblige, whether their kids are 12 or 22.

"It's the dependence factor, the unimaginability of life without the new technology, that is making kids less entrepreneurial, less initiative-oriented, less independent," Bauerlein said.

I've spent a few hours today figuring out how to download music from YouTube, cut it in Audacity, and import it into iTunes. Then there's the extra battle of ripping music from a CD, converting it to WAV, and placing it in Audacity for cutting. I did this all from online research. I also did this of my own accord.

Back in the day, I used to cut my floor music with side-by-side tape decks, rewinding and recording to make sure the transitions were perfect. Then CDs came into the picture and I did the same process, recording from CD to tape.

It's all technology, you see, and it's all mechanical. Just the methods have changed.

Sure, I'm not 12. But that's how old I was when the Internet became a relevant part of our lives. I can't help but think this mentality is of the recurrent "kids these days"/"technology = doomsday" ilk.

I'd argue that Internet searching affords a different independence, one we need in the digital age: the ability to ask the right questions and to piece together "found" information. To distinguish between authentic and useless. To test what they've found. And besides, we're going to need these 'Net-savvy kids as the world becomes increasingly digital.

Anywho, I'm off to take initiative and cut some more music!

Just like me, you've got needs

And all eight of you need me all at once.

The piecemeal (anyone else have this as an elementary school spelling word?) choreography practice quakes when the girls have reached different points of preparedness. Four have finished routines. Four have parts. The four with finished routines want to do their routines to the music. The four with parts want to, too. Out of eight, only two have no questions about their routines.

The other six fire questions like a dissertation defense, ignoring that I'm helping another girl.

"What do I do after this pose?" ::strikes pose from middle of the routine::

"Did I leave something out?"

"What do I do now?"

"I forget [insert entire section of routine]..."

"Am I with the music?"

"Can I do [insert skill] in my routine?"

"Can I go next?"

"Can I go after her?"

"Can I go after them?"

Audio and visual overload. Music on and off, laughter on and off, "Watch the corner!", "Girls, keep practicing during her routine - you don't have to stand there and watch" (of course they all do anyway), "Wait, what do I do after this?"--

Then they're gone for the day. I keep the routines. The poses, the timing. They forget, but I don't.

Wings to fly

At the world's insistence, I chose the much cooler option.

Right now the backs of my knees cringe. My arms battled the ropes during a double back and I've got some nice scratches. I convinced myself I'd die as I climbed the ladder, and again as I stood on the platform with my hands on the bar, a dude's hand on my harness the only thing stopping me from falling forward.

"Ready?"

Knees bent.

"HEP."

I jumped.

Was it worth it? Absolutely.

It's gymnastics-related:

Choices, part two!

• Run an 8K race tomorrow morning;

or

• Go trapezing.

Should this even be a debate?

Hollie Vise + One Republic = Glory

As I prance around making up floor routines, a piece of beauty:



from gymnastike.