Showing posts with label Mrs. Other McCain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mrs. Other McCain. Show all posts

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Mrs. Other McCain gets credit for this

Our 17-year-old son Bob just scored 93% on the Iowa Test of Basic Skills, including an impressive 99% in mathematical concepts and problem solving. His scores:

The gap between his reading comprehension (95%) and spelling (35%) probably results from insufficient rigor in spelling drill. Note also his low 47% in mathematical computation, likely resulting from the same sort of insufficiency.

Some things simply must be drilled, and cannot really be learned in any other way. Before we blame maternal indulgence for Bob's shortcomings, however, we must first credit Mrs. Other McCain for his academic excellence. (And good looks.)

When she saw Bob's reading comprehension score, my wife said proudly, "I taught him to read!"

Indeed, he was homeschooled from childhood until he entered church school two years ago. I remember when Mrs. Other McCain convened her first homeschool class in our little house down in Georgia, with Kennedy, 8, and the twins, Bob and Jim, then 5. The curriculum was eclectic which is not necessarily a synonym for "improvised," "ad hoc" or "a hodge-podge of workbooks, flash cards and whatever else came to hand."

Despite every imagined obstacle -- my wife's claim to educational expertise consists of a high-school diploma -- our oldest graduated from Highland View Academy with honors at age 16. Having finished Phi Theta Kappa at Hagerstown Community College, and spent a year abroad in Argentina, Kennedy is now making straight A's as a junior at Frostburg (Md.) State University. And, oh yeah, she's working her way through school and paying rent for her own apartment.

Last month, when Jim was basking in the glory of his field-trip expedition with me to cover the Orlando Tea Party (and learning scuba) his brother Bob was hurt that I hadn't published photos of his performance with the school orchestra.

Sibling rivalry between these boys is intense. They are fraternal, not identical, twins but look so much alike that when they were little -- before they insisted on different haircuts, etc. -- most people couldn't tell them apart.

Both are musical, but Bob's fanatical devotion (he plays guitar and several other instruments) had the effect of encouraging Jim to seek other pursuits, including mechanics (Jim will be replacing the brakes on the family car this evening).

Their differences of personality are interesting, and raise the inevitable question of nature vs. nurture. Raised simultaneously in the same environment by the same parents, it's hard to see how nurture could be credited with their differences. How could we have shown favoritism or partiality, when it was so hard to tell which was which? (We've sometimes called them "JimBob" or usually just "the boys.")

Well, let's leave such theoretical speculation to the experts, shall we? Instead we will celebrate Bob's achievements -- and the widely acknowledged wonderfulness of all six of our children -- as proof of what Sir Francis Galton described as Hereditary Genius.

P.S.: Sending their Dad to Pasadena? Genius!

UPDATE: Another reason to homeschool:

State schools admit they do not push gifted pupils because they don't want to promote 'elitism'

(Via Instapundit.) This phenomenon is not new -- busy work and "group projects" were around even when I was in school -- but it's gotten much worse, because of the alarming decline of the teaching profession. (Fact: Education majors, on average, have the lowest SAT scores among college students.)

Mediocre teachers are more likely to resent intelligence, rather than to admire or encourage it. In this manner, professions of egalitarian concern for "fairness" mask the mediocrity's envious resentment of excellence.

Why parents are so easily convinced to surrender their children to the custody of government bureaucrats -- notice that, even in their architecture, public schools are now barely indistinguiable from Youth Detention Centers -- is a great mystery.

Friday, November 27, 2009

'Jingle jingle,' IYKWIMAITYD

The crass commercialization of Christmas is not my fault, despite my shameless capitalistic exploitation of the holiday season. Indeed, you might say, I'm a victim of this lamentable phenomenon.

My wife and eldest daughter started shopping at 4 a.m. this morning. The bank balance yesterday was somewhat encouraging of a happy holiday season -- perhaps too encouraging, really, because when Mrs. Other McCain returned home at 11:30 a.m., she said, "I'm worried."

"Are you saying you got carried away?" I asked.

"Yeah, maybe a little carried away," she replied, and then gestured toward my computer with a cryptic remark: "Jingle jingle."

You don't need a Secret Decoder Ring to know what that means. Though she is by nature quite thrifty -- how else to support our large family on a freelancer's erratic earnings? -- Mrs. Other McCain is also exceptionally generous.

So it is that the spirit of holiday giving sometimes overwhelms my lovely bride on Black Friday, to such an extent that she temporarily forgets about our overdue car payment. And our past-due cell-phone account. And our overdue heating bill.

"Jingle jingle," she said, meaning that Mrs. Other McCain is now counting on me to do something -- anything -- to prevent an immediate financial disaster. Past performance has inspired in her a remarkable faith in my miraculous ability to generate just enough income to keep us out of the soup-kitchen line, and I dare not disappoint her.

Therefore, her genius husband is now desperately trying to justify Mrs. Other McCain's faith by dreaming up some new incentive for readers to hit the tip jar, on a holiday weekend when blog traffic sucks.

UPDATE: Among the most valuable services I have performed in the past year -- and thus deserving a tip-jar hit for the holidays -- is the inauguration of "National Offend A Feminist Week," which inspired dozens of bloggers to flip the virtual finger to those humorless Womyn's Studies majors and their self-righteous misanthropic flock of fun-killers.

Among the more idiotic claims of feminism is that conservative men are "intimidated" by strong, intelligent women. Like everything else that feminists want you to believe, this is wrong.

My wife is strong and intelligent. Sarah Palin is strong and intelligent. So much for the "intimidation" argument. Of course, my wife and Sarah Palin are also inarguably hot, which feminists are not.

Conservative men don't discriminate against women. We do, however, discriminate against ugly women who can't take a joke, which is what National Offend A Feminist Week is about. And because I dare to speak truth to (ugly humorless feminist) power, you should hit the tip jar.

UPDATE II: Punk-smacking Adam Lambert? Mocking Al Gore? C'mon, folks, you gotta hit the tip jar for that.

Oh, and BTW, Jimmie Bise and I were just on Twitter discussing the possibility of my going to Atlanta next weekend to cover the Alabama-Florida showdown for the SEC title. But my brakes and tires are worn out from all that high-speed Kentucky driving, so you might want to hit the tip jar for that, too.

UPDATE III: Random Rule 5 with Liv Tyler? Bashing snooty elitists like Kathleen Parker? Celebrity sex scandal news with Tiger Woods and his super-model wife? What other blog gives you all that? Hit the tip jar!

Friday, November 20, 2009

Mrs. Other McCain rocks D.C.!

Over at the American Spectator, I've posted photos of various bigwigs -- John Fund, Jeri Thompson, Roger Scruton, etc. -- having fun at the annual gala, but the No. 1 celebrity at last night's soiree was Mrs. Other McCain:

Mrs. Other McCain and I with Hannah Giles and Matthew Vadum. I'll post more photos after a while, but first I've got to upload them to Facebook.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Orlando Diary: 'Mom's going to kill us'

That's my son Jim's verdict about the enviable poshness of our existence here at the Hilton International Resort in Orlando.

I've got an excuse. I'm here to cover the final stop of the Tea Party Express. How was I to know that Barbara Espinosa of American Freedom blog had booked us into such luxurious accommodations? My teenage son (yeah, that's him in the poolside photo) is spending the trip sprawled on the king-size bed watching the big-screen TV, or lounging around the pool and chilling in the hot tub. Me? I'm sitting here blogging, just like I'd be doing in my own basement.

Enjoy these three short videos of Jim's scuba lesson. And please tell Mrs. Other McCain we miss her!

UPDATE: Barbara corrects me: It was her friend Susan Wellington of Michigan who selected the Hilton as our Orlando headquarters. So now we know who to blame for destroying my blue-collar, low-budget blogger street-cred.