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RDCanecutter

Tell About a Teacher Who Still Guides You Now

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21 minutes ago, RDCanecutter said:

On Art Editors: "An editor is paid to edit. Put one obvious wrong thing that's easy to fix in every illustration. When the editor jumps on it, take it back home, fix it in 15 minutes, wait a couple of days, then take it back."

Good stuff.

My Dad gave me a solid, related piece of advice.  Never promise something by a a deadline and fail to deliver it.  Better yet, promise something on a deadline you know you can meet and deliver it early.

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2 people. 1 a college professor, the other a colleague at my first job

Han Schroeder,  architectural design professor, her family lived in what some consider one of the first modern homes in Europe, designed by Gerrit Rietveld (Schoeder house).  Her philosophy on architectural design has remained with me throughout my career.

The second was a colleague, but a more experienced colleague, with great design skills.  I was designing a reception desk, and the form basically was the same shape, and profile from the counter down to the floor, Simple, but it worked, but it was kind of boring. He looked at it, and said a body has a head, shoulders, trunk, arms, and legs. They all are part of and support the body, but they don't look the same. His point was a design was a successful blending of different elements, and forms.  I went back to my sketch paper, and submitted a second design. He smiled, and said yep you get it now. It was a bit of a light bulb moment, and has influenced my design decisions from that day forward.

A third was an older chick I met... I save those life lessons for my $9.95 newsletter...

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I can still hear my drill sergeants.

” You’re tore up from the floor up!”

”You’re ate up from the grate up!”

” I bet your parents put paint in your cereal when you were a kid didn’t they?”

After accidentally marching the entire platoon into a ditch on the side of the road when in a leadership position... 

“You could mess up a two car funeral. I bet you’ll be glad when today is over won’t  you!?”

“why are you eyeballing me do you want to throw down?”

“Your boots look like you polished them with a Hershey bar. Nah don’t even worry about it Low Crown. Too easy... first platoon attennn...hooah! Half right hooah! Front leaning rest position hurrr!” 
 

they would make us guess what they liked on their cheeseburgers while we were getting smoked and even though we kept notes  it still changed every single time.

”I don’t like no mayonnaise Low Crown! Push! ”

fn hilarious & I still think about them 

 

 

 

Edited by Marfa Low Crown

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Also, my first lawdog mentor a 1957 Texas graduate, who died in June.  RIP Bob.

He had a philosophy on legal writing, particularly patent applications, but also briefs:  say as little as possible, it decreases the likelihood that you say something stupid.

As a young lawyer, he wrote a patent that resulted in a $200 million reasonably royalty infringement verdict in the 80s, the largest patent infringement judgment ever entered until decades later.  Every friggin word of that patent was scrutinized endlessly over the course of 15 years of litigation.  

I took his word for it.  It has served me well.  I don't follow it here, though.  But not following his advice proves the value of it.

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Believe it or not, mine was an Aggy.

Sr year.  Garland High.  A lot of teachers just went through the motions.  Government teacher.  He was hard core, but not in a Mr. Hand kind of way.

I can still hear him...

"The world runs in black ink."

"Cover your mouth when you yawn."

Having grown up as a latch-keyer, I learned a lot from him.

Edited by Knoxtnhorn

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1 hour ago, Marfa Low Crown said:

“Your boots look like you polished them with a Hershey bar. Nah don’t even worry about it Low Crown. Too easy... first platoon attennn...hooah! Half right hooah! Front leaning rest position hurrr!”

In CAAAAdence ...

[in Caaadence ...]

EXERCISE.

Edited by RDCanecutter
up in the mornin when the sun don't shine, grab a bowl of grits and a pint of wine.

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My English teacher was an ex UT cheerleader.  Still kind of hot, though, in high school, my age limit was around 30.  Anyway, I recall her stories about being on campus during the Tower shooting.  She was so excited when I got accepted to UT.

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1 hour ago, Knoxtnhorn said:

My English teacher was an ex UT cheerleader.  Still kind of hot, though, in high school, my age limit was around 30.  

Yeah..  you fucked up 

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A high school kid that wouldn't fuck a woman over 30?  I mean, I thought I did ok for myself but if you were swimming in so much poon you were turning down perfectly good 30 year old snatch, It salute you.

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9 hours ago, RDCanecutter said:

Have you got an old teacher or professor who may be long gone, but they taught you so much that you hear their voice in your memory while you're working today?

I sure do. Mr. Richard Brough, my Graphic Design instructor back in the 80s.

Mr. Brough was a throw-back to a Woodie-Guthrie America. Sometimes he'd look around, stop the class, and teach us how to make hand-painted signs, so if we hitched across the country we could start on the Atlantic, never miss a meal, and by the time we hit California we'd have money in our pockets. I am pretty sure that's what he did when he was young. In WW2 he painted murals for the troops, and individual watercolor portraits of recuperating wounded for them to send to their moms.

"You want to get good at watercolors, RD? It's easy-- paint a thousand of them!"

He did a stretch at Disney as an animator, never talked about it much.

At that time, computers were just coming in, and students who'd gone off to work at ad agencies (usually in Atlanta, where they'd dress like Robert Smith of The Cure and tear it up on Apple IIEs) would let us current students know that we were not getting the current know-how. I didn't care. Mr. Brough would show us all kinds of basic techniques with brushes and pens, hand-embossing, silkscreens, stencils, all of it done so old-school punk-rock that we could have figured out how to make a living in between hopping trains. Apple IIEs are a distant memory and I still make sales using old techniques.

He'd get to know you, and tailor projects to your personality. My friend Tony was patient, so he'd give Tony one thing to work on for a long time. Me, I flitted. "RD, your work is good if you do it in less than 5 minutes. If I give you an hour, you ruin it. So do 10 things, 5 minutes each."

How should we price our work? "How much do you need?" "Give them a price, and wait. If they say 'OK', say, well for this much more, I can mat it. If they say 'OK', then you say and for this much more, I can frame it. Keep going until they stop saying 'OK.'"

On job interviews: "Don't show an employer anything you didn't enjoy doing. That'll be the one thing they hire you to do."

On Art Editors: "An editor is paid to edit. Put one obvious wrong thing that's easy to fix in every illustration. When the editor jumps on it, take it back home, fix it in 15 minutes, wait a couple of days, then take it back."

If he knew you needed money, jobs would appear. Maybe they'd be art jobs, maybe they'd be wax-on wax-off clean the dojo, I mean studio, jobs.

Last week I was finishing up a little painting that was OK, but lacked something. I remembered in the 80s turning in an illustration that was the same way, B work. Mr. Brough took a heavy marker and jagged it down one side of the person in my illustration. BOOM it looked like a magazine cover. Back in the present, I took a brush and black paint and added the same savage touch to the painting. BOOM again. It sold that day.

Thanks Mr. Brough.

I could listen to RDCaneCutter stories for hours.

Where was this college? Auburn? 'Bama? UT-Martin?

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Dr. Charles O'Bannon, Phd, PE.  We called him Charlie O.

Soil Mechanics and Materials Testing were the courses.  Materials Testing wasn't the issue,  Soil Mechanics was.  Had to get through that class by the end of your junior year because of subsequent courses that had Soils as a prerequisite.  Strategically you took it in the fall of your junior year in case you failed, and about 15% did.  We called them "Returning Letterman."  It was a class that installed a sense of apprehension as soon as you got in the program.  It loomed.  It was somewhat a rite of passage.

Charlie O was confined to a wheelchair because of some radiation cancer therapy that left him paralyzed.  Wanna give him some bullshit answer in class if he asked you a question?  You were fucking toast.  Better just to say "I don't know, but I will by next class."  Late to class?  Don't even bother going through the door.  

He'd wheel around during exams and analyze what you were in the process of calculating for a particular problem.  I heard him tell a few classmates "Don't sell your book back" or "Not only are you ugly, but apparently you're not intelligent either."  I told him on the first day of class that I'd get an A in Soils.  I did.  So did three others (out of 25). Two were Returning Letterman. 

He lived next door to Frank Kush.  Coach Frank fucking Kush called him the orneriest man he ever knew during Charlie O's wake.  Yes, I went to Charlie O's wake.  Cause he was my kind of guy.

All these years later, I remember Charlie O's three laws.  He'd say, "If you don't remember anything out of this class, remember this please  . . . ."

1.  Always, always, always assume full hydraulic head when designing retaining walls.

2.  Never, never, never use clay as a backfill material.

3.  Once you get the sweet-ass, you lose all objectivity.

I refer to #3 a lot.

 

 

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12 hours ago, Rougarou said:

I could listen to RDCaneCutter stories for hours.

Where was this college? Auburn? 'Bama? UT-Martin?

With my grades, I couldn't even dream of UT-Martin. It was Bama.

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Coach Larry Menefee- taught History and coached me in football & hoops at Barwise Junior High and coached me in football at Rider.  I did not have a non-white classmate until 8th grade, when I started at Barwise.  All of the sudden a good portion of my classmates and and a higher percentage of my teammates were black.  Coach Menefee also happened to be black.  He was a great example of how to lead young men and focus on the right things in life.  I think he understood the environment from whence I came, and while he never really had to talk about race specifically, he demanded that the team treat each other with respect.  He had an uncanny way of taking a tense moment or tough situation and interjecting his sense of humor to diffuse it.  His easy going nature taught me that you didn't have to go around yelling at people and telling them you were a badass.   Just be one... and people will know.

Coach Nick Hollars( RIP)-  taught me in the classroom that it was OK for an athlete to be smart/ make good grades in high school.  Through all of my education, he is the best math teacher I ever had.  I loved that class, bigtime.  His class also provided one of the funniest moments of high school when 2 dumbass teammates of ours decided it would be a great decision to cheat on a test in his class. He caught them in the act, called them out for their integrity and judgment in the class, and then after school they got licks for cheating, from him.  Then they had extra workouts after practice for 2 weeks for embarrassing the team.  All of us thought it was just...and that they were complete idiots for doing it his class, as he was cool as hell, but also a disciplinarian.  Another time in offseason workouts, we were lifting and I reached down to pick up a empty Reeses wrapper off the floor, as we were allowed to eat lunch down there also if we wanted.  Coach Hollars bellows out, "(Slorch) what are you doing?"  Knowing his strict side and wondering if I had fucked up by deviating from lifting routine, I just kind of muttered, "Nothing."    "Just as loudly he replies, "Looks like to me you're picking up trash... something that the whole team walked by in the past 30 minutes and ignored.  Keep the place clean, Men.  Details matter."  That one has always stuck with me in a very, very positive way.

Edited by slorch

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Mr. Kiethly. (Keithly?)

high school Algebra I, Trig, and Calculus teacher. Three different courses.

 

Went to a smallish (3a at the time) high school. he normally didn't teach Algebra, just the upper division math stuff, but rarely he would have to take an algebra section. He called me one his rare "Three time losers".

Used to make puns. We'd trade puns back and forth. For example, he was talking about a record player (you know those old fashioned plastic discs that had grooves in them) to illustrate rotational motion. He said something like "I don't want to needle you to much, but we've to to get back in the groove on this." I'd respond with "You have a warped sense of humor."

"What do you call an upstairs, occupied bathroom? A hypotenuse."

When somebody smarted off in class, or looked to be falling asleep, he'd throw an eraser backhand at you from the chalkboard without ever turning around. Amazing accuracy for no-look, behind the back shots. We used to shoot rubber bands in class to distract him. During exams, he'd do the same.

He drove a school bus, and bitched constantly about how much that job sucked. Told hilarious stories about shit he had to go through as a bus driver.

He was portly, sweated a lot, kept his room as cold as a meat freezer.

Jesus freak, had those inspirational posters in his room about jesus carrying you across the sand and shit. Talked constantly about the importance of God and Jesus in your life.

BUT, I learned more in his three classes than everything else in high school combined. I came this close to majoring in pure mathematics in college. Went with physics instead. Because of him.

He's probably long dead by now. I'll pour one out for him next go round.

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On 9/5/2020 at 5:00 PM, Knoxtnhorn said:

My English teacher was an ex UT cheerleader.  Still kind of hot, though, in high school, my age limit was around 30.  Anyway, I recall her stories about being on campus during the Tower shooting.  She was so excited when I got accepted to UT.

 

So, was what, like about 80 or so?

 

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3 hours ago, High Plains Drifter said:

 

So, was what, like about 80 or so?

 

I'm guessing about 45.  I was a very late bloomer both physically and mentally.  It took me awhile to see the beauty in anyone over 30.

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On 9/9/2020 at 12:56 PM, High Plains Drifter said:

 

Mr. Kiethly. (Keithly?)

When somebody smarted off in class, or looked to be falling asleep, he'd throw an eraser backhand at you from the chalkboard without ever turning around. Amazing accuracy for no-look, behind the back shots. We used to shoot rubber bands in class to distract him. During exams, he'd do the same.

 

never have heard of that one.   Very cool.

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