What's in a name? - TV characters and evocation

I've always been fascinated by the naming of characters. It's probably the most fun and most challenging element of fiction writing. [When I was in high school, I even convinced my mom that I had to buy a Baby Names book, the sort of publication that traces the history and meaning of names].

Two of the shows I love best, The West Wing and NCIS have very interesting, evocative names for main characters. The Bible seems to be a popular source, especially for the characters who are held up as "elders" -- leaders or sages with unequivocal moral authority. It stands to reason; there seem to be "old" names that we immediately associate with wisdom and nobility.

In West Wing, the US president's name is Josiah 'Jed' Bartlet. There's a recognisable parallel with the Biblical Josiah, in that he was a reformer. This was integral to the character -- despite Bartlet's flaws, he believed in instituting change for the greater good. Toby Ziegler (derived from Tobias), on the other hand, is a bit harder to peg because there are several Tobiases in scripture. The key figure, however, is noted for his loyalty to God which aligns with Toby's dedication to Bartlet's administration [until he leaked the astronaut thing, and even then Richard Schiff, the actor who played Toby, thought that was uncharacteristic]. A non Biblical name that has very strong resonance for another character is Leo McGarry. It was just perfect for his canny, combative way of getting things done.

In NCIS, the lead Special Agent is Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Jethro is the father-in-law of Moses and is revered in Hebrew tradition as a prophet in his own right. Referencing Gibbs to a figure of immense stature and dignity is obvious, but what I find interesting is that Jethro had influenced the development of the Mosaic system of arbitration. This basically meant that Moses delegated. I link this closely to Gibb's leadership style; he knows exactly what each team member is capable of and lets them shine. Other characters don't seem to have overt links to ancient figures, but their names are certainly evocative: Tony DiNozzo, Timothy McGee, Ziva David, Donald "Ducky" Mallard, Abby Sciuto. There's a wealth of background that one could conjecture with these names. [Postscript: Just realised that Gibbs' FBI friend is called Tobias Fornell. Again with the Tobias!].

So what's in a name? A whole world of meaning, if one but wonders.

I speak, therefore I am

A few weeks before he turned two, I was wondering when Bubs would start stringing words together into the semblance of a sentence. His vocabulary was already demonstrably wide. He could follow two to three consecutive instructions (e.g. pick up the book and put it away); identify various people, things, and places accurately; and understand underlying narratives in picture books. We could also sense him straining to communicate to us with more complexity, so it felt like a matter of time...

And then, it just happened.

His first official sentence: (showing a picture of himself to Couscous) "See, cat? Baby Jack!"

By sentence I mean a coherent sequence of words that follow conventional English structure.

Since his breakthrough, his sentences have become more complex. There's an experimental note sometimes in the way he says them, and most of what he communicates are statements of fact, seeking confirmation (or maybe it's just that inquiring lilt at the end that is characteristic of the Australian inflection).

Bubs still refers to himself in third person (which is normal, according to literature), and he misses the participles and prepositions. Otherwise, the development of his language skills is well on track and frankly, a bloody marvel.

He has moved quickly from Subject-Verb structure ("Jack play" - asking permission after eating) to Subject-Verb-Object ("Dad fix wall" - reporting observation), and even the use of possessive case ("Doc-doc fix Jack legs" - after a minor jellyfish sting at the beach).

He's pretty amazing.

We're also helping him label facial expressions or emotions to build EQ. (This is where children's television comes in handy. Timmy Time is particularly wonderful because it's all about socialisation, not so much the academic ABC/123 larnin' stuff). Bubs has got "sad" and "scared" well worked out now, both of which can be challenging feelings for toddlers, so I'm glad he's got words for them.

I'm so proud and so excited for him.

Children's television: sort of a review

Bubs wasn't into television to begin with, but as his attention span increased, he became more interested in moving images. He soon learned to mimic and label, respond to narratives, as well as recall characters and events. I have no problem with exposing him to television; we control the duration and time of day, and make a point of sitting on the couch with him, or at least staying in the same room, in order to talk out and reinforce learning moments. As a result, his language and comprehension skills have likely been influenced by what he watches.

From the outset, we discriminated between shows. That is to say, we tended to lean towards the 'educational' programs (although it could be argued that all of children's television is educational in some way). Because we sit through shows with him, we select shows that we can enjoy as well. Hence, Sesame Street and Play School were long-time staples (Tikkabilla is the current 'educational' stand-in; really fantastic show on CBeebies). But there have been/are other programs too:

In the Night Garden
An early favourite. It is made by the same people who produced Teletubbies (which I loathed when they first came out). Night Garden is perfect for one-year onwards, because the characters communicate through tones and body language rather than words. The slow pace has a settling effect, and the repetitive scenes help develop memory. The characters also frequently display physical affection, which promotes emotional intelligence (EI). There's even a dance sequence sometimes, involving all the characters, which Bubs used to dance along to -- good sign of socialisation. We also used to put this show on before we put Bubs to bed because the final scenes are of the characters falling asleep one by one = perfect segue.


Shaun the Sheep
Soon after we ran out of Night Garden episodes [i.e. started getting endless repeats on Foxtel], we replaced it with the Aardman show, Shaun the Sheep. [For some reason, we tend to favour live action, puppets or stop motion for Bubs]. The dialogue in Shaun is tonal (expressive garbles, really), like Night Garden. However, because the characters are stop motion figures rather than costumed mascots, their facial expressions are far more defined (again, the EI thing). More varied plot points in the narrative structure, too. Storylines are usually based on a mystery or disaster which Shaun then tries to resolve, with the help of Bitza the dog and the flock. It's a pretty funny show -- vintage Aardman. Bubs lo-hoves Shaun and Timmy [his 2nd birthday cake, made by his dad, was a 3D rendition of the "little lamb with a lot to learn"].


Imagination Movers
My (current) absolute favourite. I get why it's multi-awarded. There are any number of children's shows built around problem-solving and the use of 'tools' like maps (Dora the Explorer, Go Diego Go, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse -- we've roadtested them all). But Imagination Movers just rocks them out to pieces. The music is adult contemporary, not cheesy-hyper, conventional children's music (like Hi-5 and The Wiggles). I also like the guys' mechanic's blue overalls: big, big plus to have a truly masculine aesthetic on a children's show. [The whole concept is original, too; Scott, Rich, Smitty and Dave started out on PBS and had three indie albums before Disney picked them up].

Also, the problems, or "idea emergencies" as they call it, are meticulously and explicitly worked out through processes of brainstorming, elimination and trial-and-error [The title song has the lines "You gotta think about it... You gotta talk about it"]. Not too much of the convenient "button-clicking" you see on Dora. A classic example is when their friend Nina makes the mistake of wrapping all her Christmas presents in the same paper without labelling them. So the Movers use a large magnet to pick out the box with the stapler for Uncle Knit Knots, get Warehouse Mouse to find the cheese for Nina's parents, put one of the boxes on a balance scale with the exact same cookie jar to check if it is the cookie jar for Nina's brother, etc.

It may be that Movers is a touch over Bubs' head and all he really wants out of the show is music to dance to, but I don't want to plonk him in front of a program that dumbs him down, either. He is making connections [e.g. he saw a graphic of an astronaut somewhere and said "moosh", his word for the Movers -- clear recall of the episode where Dave donned a spacesuit to see whether it stops his sneezing fit].

2010 Resolutions

OK so it's February and a post on resolutions seems more than a little tardy. But I did make them at the start of the year -- though I don't tend to -- and I thought that a month on, it would be good to have a checkpoint.

In my extensive list, there are very specific things that I want to pay more attention to, like drinking more water, avoiding buying food from the school canteen, being a better dog owner, and having more control over the time I spend on the internet. There are also little things to preserve sanity, like going out more with people other than Hubs and/or Bubs and having Bubs babysat more than often than last year. Some of these I'm slowly establishing, others have been acted on, and the rest, I haven't even begun doing.

But on the sheet on which I have typed up these resolutions, and which I have posted in the ensuite and next to my desk, I included what I called "rules," overarching guides for myself. I guess, having come off a bad year (many people I know were glad to see the back of 2009 -- really bad juju going on there, it seems), I needed some simple statements to keep me in check, even if I forget all the rest of my resolutions:

1. Do not panic.
2. Have something specific to look forward to.
3. Don’t be so hard on yourself.
4. Be brave.
5. Be thankful.

They seem like airy-fairy motherhood statements, but in my case, they were forged from extremely challenging experiences. Each in their own way represents a desire to overcome and move forward.

A month on, I think I'm doing fine.

[Photo: First blush of lobelia in a flowerpot, taken on the balcony of our flat in 2001]

Jack at two

Antiquarian dreaming, Part 2

In my previous post, I wrote about my cherished little collection of antiquarian photos.

They're not the only old things I've purchased over time.

These are:
* Grimm's Fairy Tales with 48 colour plates by Harry G Theaker. Published ca. 1920 by Ward, Lock & Co.
* Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll. Illustrated by AH Watson. Published 1951 by Collins.
* Just So Stories for Little Children by Rudyard Kipling illustrated by the author. Published 1950 by Macmillan and Co. Ltd.
* Andersen's Fairy Tales published by Blackie & Son [undated but web search suggests ca. 1940s??]
* Peter Pan and Wendy by JM Barrie. Published by Hodder & Stoughton [undated but web search suggests ca. 1947]

They're not mint condition but definitely pre-loved. I don't mind that. I'm not really one of those serious collectors who bid X dollars for antiquarian books in pristine condition, with dust jackets and all. I buy them for whimsy [for instance, the Grimm's book has a couple of clover-like leaves pressed between its pages, placed there who-knows how long ago]. And I guess from a deep love of old-fashioned books: their smell, weight, texture and (sometimes) colour. A couple of these hardbound children's books have got gorgeous illustrations called colour plates, made by two of the most popular book artists of the genre and of the period:

[Alice and the Caterpillar, AH Watson]

[Rumpelstiltskin, HG Theaker]

These images are straight from the scanner, Photoshop-free, simply cropped with MS Picture Manager.

Again, as with my request with the old photos, if you happen to come across books of a similar nature to these, please purchase to be reimbursed or let me know where they can be found.

Antiquarian dreaming, Part 1

I've always loved old things. While my high school classmates were headbanging to Guns 'N' Roses and Metallica, I was bopping to The Platters, The Drifters and Everly brothers. I was also into old films. I remember finding Casablanca really gripping, and Gone With The Wind really boring (Scarlett O'Hara is an odious character).

My fascination with things from the past was fully realised when I started buying "relics" on holiday trips to former gold fields. We were browsing through a few antique stores in Ballarat a good number of years ago and I fell in love with a collection of photos. I think it was just that they were clearly from another era, a whole other world that was accessible only through images. Here are a couple from my very small hoard bought over time.



Don't they make you wonder whatever happened afterwards? [On the back of the second photo is an inscription: "To Dear Mum with best wishes from (indeciph.) & Frank. Taken 29/10/14". In four years, this photo will be 100 years old and the oldest thing I own. The top image is probably older but it's not dated].

I like purchasing wedding photos for this reason, because they do have that resonance, more than any other type of photo. Wedding photos also provide a fashion snapshot, and since then, I've gotten a couple from other eras as a study. Please, if you do come across really interesting old photos, could you buy them for me and I'll reimburse you? I'll pay up to $30 for a really good find, preferably dated and with interesting inscriptions (store prices tend to vary based on quality, size and age).

Look what we found at the Salvos!

Although we were looking for a crafting table (for me), and this really isn't it, it was such a charmer. It's an old primary school desk, with inkwells and grooves to hold your pens. I think we were taken in by the bygone era that it evokes. Such desks were used around the 1950s, some holding through to the early 1980s. As with any secondhand (thirdhand and so on) furniture, it also sparks the imagination: what are the stories of the young people who sat at this desk over the years? Where are they now? What happened to "KE was here 1980"?

On a practical level, we had been thinking of getting Bubs a desk of his own in the study because he tends to want to climb onto our laps whenever we sit at ours. It's a lovely opportunity for cuddles, but also rather annoying when something needs to get done (like paying bills). This was a desk he could have a relationship with, one that actually has a lot of character, compared to a DIY-assembly, laminated desk that we would have likely gotten. So we bought it from the Salvos, and it now sits in our study. It needs some sanding and a lick of varnish, but not much more labour than that. And in a way, any restoration just adds to its history.

Of course, there's a twist in the tale, and a good lesson to have, when buying old furniture: do some research on e-bay! As it turns out, we might have gotten the exact same desk for less than we paid... but then again, we didn't have to travel far to pick it up and the Salvos got some fundage for their excellent work.

A Facebook and Twitter Diet

I'm pretty much your average netizen with an opinion. (Actually, I've always been rather opinionated; the arrival of the internet just meant that I could potentially bore even more people with my views).

It didn't take long for me to get hooked on Facebook and Twitter. I've been blogging for many web lightyears now, but the responses I get from these social networking sites are more immediate, frequent, varied and numerous. Moreover, through status updates, I was getting marvellous glimpses into the lives of friends, and learning new things through their experiences and interests.

But then it just got a bit silly. I was checking for updates way too often, as if life were that interesting from one click of the 'refresh' button to the next. Also, over the course of my day, I was bookending activities and amusing moments by providing a 140-character precis online.

So I was already feeling that I needed to take better control of my time and communication when a blinding moment of clarity came. Last Tuesday, I was sitting at my laptop reading posts that I had already read on my iPhone (because of course I have the Facebook app on there), when I finally twigged: surely I've got more productive things to do. Not exactly an earthshattering epiphany but it shifted me about 90 degrees. Different view from there. I wondered what it would be like to be completely off the radar. I decided to not visit my Facebook and Twitter accounts for the rest of that week.

The first several hours after quitting were really hard, but once I got past the 36-hour mark, it got easier. I was able to hold out until Saturday afternoon (and could've gone on longer if I hadn't seen Avatar on 3D at IMAX).

In the end, it was a great exercise in abstinence (which I don't tend to be very good at). And it helped me gain a Buddhist detachment from Facebook and Twitter -- which I had sorely needed. And yes, I did become more productive. Yey, me. This might bode well for the rest of the year.

Living with irony

I've come to the conclusion that being a parent means living with irony. And by this, I don't mean bad luck or coincidence as in the 1990s Alanis Morisette song. I mean incongruity or inconsistency between reality and context, between two desires, between expectation and outcome.

Let's take excursions down the street. Not too long ago, I had to carry Bubs on my hip if I'd forgotten the pram or trolleys weren't available. When he started walking, it was fantastic! That is, until he learned that he could wriggle his hand out of mum's. Now that he's walking, running and climbing up and down things, sometimes I'm like - could you please stay in the same place I left you?

It's the same with feeding. When Bubs started using the spoon, it was wonderful because it gave me a bit of space to do other things while he ate. However, being a toddler, his aim and table manners aren't quite refined yet. Hence, after meals, there's a bit of table-wiping, face-cleaning, clothes-changing, floor-mopping and sighing going on.

So it's this bittersweet spot of being fit to burst with pride and yet oddly harking back to "simpler" times. I think when you're marking time by the growth of your child, you tend to straddle the past and present. You remember how things were, what you wished for, then you see them come true... along with other things you hadn't anticipated, least of which is wishing things hadn't changed at all, even as you are pleased that they did. Funny that.