What I've Learned

There is no place like home. I was so glad to click the heels of my make believe ruby slippers and repeat this saying. This past summer I stayed on campus for an internship. This meant I had to move from Milton Daniel to Montcrief for the summer. What a difference in attitude towards the physical facilities and behavior of the residents. It was such a relief to move back to Milton Daniel in August. But even better was the lure of the single room on the third floor. Last year found me studying most days in one of the many study lounges as my roommate and I had way different sleeping/studying hours. I chose a room that has a great study pod right out in front. I thought I was all set. I wouldn't have to make sure I had everything that I needed to study with me when I left my room; my door was right there. What I have found out is that I don't have to leave my room anymore to study! I no longer worry that the light from my desk lamp will disturb a roommate. The downside to studying in my room is that I have less interaction with fellow residents. One thing I was looking forward to by living on the third floor this year was upper class honor students all being together. With the opening of Worth Hills and the decision to decrease the number of Community Regents this year, more of the students on the third floor are freshmen. Many upper class students did not continue on in Milton Daniel this year. I still feel I have made the right decision as I enjoy being a Community Regent, and I really like being closer to my classes and the Bluu for meals.

No matter how far away I am, I don't think my Mom will ever change. An innocent inquiry,”Would you like Dad to bring cupcakes for your birthday when he comes?” Of course I said yes, some for band and some for the dorm. What I meant was I wanted enough cupcakes for my tuba section, all 12 of us. She didn't quite send enough for the entire band, but almost! With the weather delay from the Texas game, my dorm birthday celebration was postponed to Sunday. I still had LOTS of cupcakes, chocolate, carrot, and spice flavors. And how lucky I was, fellow residents baked cupcakes for my celebration too! I set cupcakes out for any and all who wanted after we ate our fill; many Milton Daniel residents had happy tummies from home baked yumminess! She does bake from scratch! I am finally training her, that although I print a lot, I don't need a ream of paper every time my mom or dad come to visit me. Same with laundry detergent and deodorant!

Even now, my Mom can save the day. I love the Horned Frog Marching Band. I love football games. I don't love 11:00am football games that come with 6:50am report times! At least I set everything I need for game day out the night before. I've learned to check to make sure my alarm clock is set to ring early on Saturday game day mornings. I thought I set my alarm clock, but clearly I didn't the morning of September 7. As I was blissfully dreaming away, my phone started ringing early that Saturday morning. What? My Mom is calling! Whoops! Another reason I'm grateful to live in Milton Daniel and glad that I set everything out. She was amazed at how quickly I was at the stadium after her call. And I am grateful that she loves band and is willing to come to the early morning rehearsal with the other band moms and dads.

Dad visits are great too. My car decided to disappear from the parking lot when he was here. I guess I didn't get it moved to the right parking lot like I thought I had. When I was supposed to meet him, I went out, walked the entire lot and couldn't find my car, “Car 54, where are you?” He came to me instead. He drove me to the police station. They told me where they tow the cars for game day, he drove me through what I thought was the lot they told me; NO CAR! Oh no, now what? He had me get a map out, wrong lot. It was in the lot they told me to go to. Then off we went. Then it decides to have a flat tire; he found a place to get it fixed for me. Yea. Happy me and happy car again. He also is great at explaining physics and math to me when I'm stuck too. All in all, he's a great help to me.

Father Charlie and TCU Catholic Community are very important to me, and I wanted to be a part of the Board, but working on a large committee does not suit me. When I arrived at TCU a year ago, I attended mass at the beginning of the year and an announcement was made looking for someone to help with audio-visual every Sunday. What luck, this is what I did at church at home! I became part of the TCU Catholic Community. Last Spring, announcements were made for board openings. I applied and was accepted. However, several others were accepted for the committee too. Trying to accommodate everyone's schedule and interests was impossible and frustrating to me. I decided there were other ways I can help, and this was not one of them.

This semester I am taking 12.5 credit hours. Last Spring I took 18 hours. One would think that this semester would be easier, wouldn't you? Not true! This fall I have found that my classes require much more time and work than I put in last year. Previously, the content taught in my physics and math classes consisted of information that I knew at least something about. This year, everything is new and unknown. I am spending much, much more time with these classes trying to master all of this new information.

I didn't realize how much I missed practicing my tuba every day until this semester. I wanted to audition for a drum corp for this summer, so I started practicing every day. I find that it is relaxing to hunker down in a practice room and work on scales and etudes. Sometimes I will bring homework with me and spend hours in the practice room, taking breaks from homework to practice. It is a very pleasant way to unwind. I now practice my tuba because I want to, not because my Mom is telling me I have to. Sometimes I wonder how good of a tuba player I could have been if practicing was this much fun years ago?

Learning an Instrument

I'm not really sure I had a choice when it came to learning an instrument or not, I don't think so. My Mom and Dad met through band at Purdue University, so I know music is important to them. The University of New Mexico had the UNM Music Prep School on Saturdays. When I was little, classes were open to 2 year olds. Guess how old I was when I started going? Yep, 2. Purdue played in the NCAA Basketball Tournament at UNM when I was 2 too. I got to see the band kids because my Mom was friends with the director. Boy, did those sousaphone players look like they were having fun! Homecoming at Purdue. My Mom marched in the Alumni Band. ALL of those sousaphones looked like they were really, really having fun! I wanted to play tuba!

UNM Music Prep School had group piano lessons as I got older. I learned to read music, both treble clef and bass clef pretty well. Learning to read music is like learning a foreign language, one that I am as comfortable with as I am with the English language.

Finally, I could start band in 4^th grade in an after school program at my elementary school. I was too little to play a tuba yet, so I got to do the next best thing, play the baby version, a baritone. I was lucky because 2 of my aunts played baritone, and we could borrow one for me to use. We had band twice a week, and the man who taught us would have us come to his home once a month for private lessons. Buzzing a mouthpiece, and trying to figure out what pitch the note was took time and practice. At least we played songs that I was familiar with, so I had an idea of what it should sound like. With the brass instruments, just making sure I have the right fingerings does not mean that I am playing the right note. At the end of the year, he moved. In 5^th grade we had a lady. I learned to play a little better that year, but she did not do the private lessons, so everything was done in a group setting.

Sixth grade found me at Madison Middle School with Mrs. VanDyke as my band director for the next three years. In sixth grade I was in Intermediate Band. I finally was big enough to switch from baritone to a tuba. Tubas come in different sizes, so it was much smaller than I play now, but it was a tuba. We had practice logs, so now I had to practice my tuba to get a good grade. And surprise, I got better because I was practicing. In Albuquerque, we have a wonderful program called Albuquerque Youth Symphony. It has programs for middle school and high school students. I auditioned in the spring. I made Albuquerque Junior Orchestra. Mrs. Van Dyke told my mom she would put me in Symphonic Band, the top band in middle school if she would have me take private lessons. So I started taking lessons from Mrs. Akeley the summer after 6^th grade.

Not everything I learned about playing my tuba directly affected how well I played my tuba. I learned how to hold my tuba with a broken arm from Mr. Snowden in January the day after I got my cast on, and I thought I wouldn't be able to play for weeks when I was in 7^th grade. He did more for me than just teach the low brass sectionals for AJO. In 8^th grade, I made Albuquerque Junior Symphony. The best part of AJO and AJS were the friends I made from many different middle schools throughout the Albuquerque area. This proved very beneficial for me because the middle school I went to only sent about 20% of the student body to the high school I would go to. So these people I met through AJO and AJS were many of the same people I became friends with at LaCueva.

Mrs. Akeley has students throughout the city too. I made many friends from her students. She was my tuba teacher from 6^th grade until I left for TCU. She makes her students work hard, but she is very good, and she puts more low brass students in All-State than any other private teacher in the state. She is really a trombone player and has a Trombone Choir that her students can be part of. I learned how to play trombone so I could do trombone choir and be in jazz band in high school. I don't know which is harder to play, trombone or tuba? I know it took me a while to feel comfortable playing the trombone, but I know that I have high standards, and I knew I had not played or taken lessons on trombone as long as many of my fellow students.

High school band was so different from middle school. There were so many more opportunities, marching band, concert band, jazz band, and basketball band. All but jazz band were mandatory at our school. Mr. Jordan was my high school band director for my first three years. Unfortunately, he retired and his assistant, Mr. Converse was promoted for my senior year. Mr. J, as he was fondly known wanted us exposed to many types of music. Music, mainly classical or jazz was always playing over the sound system in the band room. While he was there, we had three concert bands, Wind Ensemble, the top performing group, Symphonic Band, and Concert Band, which all Freshmen had to be in and any sophomore who didn't play well enough to get into Wind Ensemble or Symphonic Band. My freshman year found more of us in Wind Ensemble than ever before, with several of us, me included sitting 1^st chair. Mr. J challenged us with difficult music, pushing us to be the best we could be. Most bands play 3 pieces for concerts and competitions, we did too, but we played many more pieces that we never performed so that we kept fresh, and were not bored with our repertoire. We worked hard because he expected a lot and we wanted to be the best. The same with jazz band. We practiced dozens of different charts before selecting the ones for concerts or competitions.

Mr. J. and Mrs. Akeley made me the musician I am today. With their teaching, support, and guidance, in the spring of my junior year, I auditioned for the U. S. Army All-American Marching Band, a marching band made up of 125 of the best high school musicians in the United States. It's a one time opportunity as you must be a junior to audition and a senior for the bowl game. I am one of only 3 students from my high school to ever be selected. It was such an honor, and one I worked very hard for. The audition required a solo played on your marching instrument, which meant instead of playing the piece on a 4 valve concert tuba, I needed to play the solo on the 3 valve sousaphone. There was another piece that everyone had to play from memory and march 2 boxes at 170 beats per minute which had me marching forward, to the left, backwards, and to the right. The neighboring high school has a marching field that is well marked. I would go over there for hours, marching and playing the same song, over and over and over again. Another was a video of why I should be selected. Other considerations were grade point average, community service, and demonstrated leadership within my school. I was on pins and needles waiting for the selection email. It was a wonderful experience, one I will never forget, and one that has served me well. As I was visiting colleges, it was something that told band directors a lot about me, even though I'm from a state not well known or respected for its music programs.

Learning to play the tuba and trombone has provided me with many opportunities in life as well as the skill to be a good musician. I continue to practice and play here at TCU. It's my respite from my studying.

Worst Teachers

Thinking back though my career as a student, I've had some people that almost seemed to be vying for the top honors of “worst teacher I've ever had”. Fifth place goes to my seventh grade Life Science teacher that stormed out of the class claiming that if some of us don't want to learn, then she certainly wouldn't bother teaching us. Fourth place goes to my ninth grade biology teacher whom I had to approach with each of my returned tests and the textbook; I proceeded to point out blatant errors on his part. On the worst of them, he would have scored a C- had he taken the test himself with a corrected answer key.

I'm going to give the third place award to the two people who taught my New Mexico History course in seventh grade. The first was a substitute teacher who didn't know the first thing about New Mexican history. On the first day, he told us (in all seriousness) that the state was a perfect square. He didn't last the week. The second teacher was hired hoping to become an English as a Second Language (ESL) teacher, which left me somewhat confused as to her priorities. She completely failed in the classroom discipline department; with the constant interruptions from various students, the only learning I did occurred via the textbook. But the madness did not stop there; to help with the noise level, she instituted the “talking brick”. Even after raising your hand and being acknowledged, she had to bring a five pound adobe brick in a five gallon Tupperware bin to your desk before you were allowed to speak.

In second place, we have my tenth grade Chemistry teacher who practiced minimalist theories of teaching, if minimal stood for “minimal effort”. Instead of teaching the students, he pulled up a Khan Academy video on that day's lesson, and then he assigned bookwork to be done by the end of class, which only maybe four of the thirty students finished in the allotted time. If asked a question, he would oftentimes need to leave the classroom to consult another chemistry teacher to divine the answer. He also seemed to willfully ignore the cheating that ran rampant on in his classroom. He would leave the room periodically during tests; the students were even bold enough to talk in normal voices about the test questions. Even when in the classroom, he turned a blind eye to students leaning over read other students' work. Based on a chain of people copying test answers, I was likely providing answers (unwillingly, I might add, since this was brought up with and dismissed by the administration) to almost half the class. Being a large animal veterinarian, I suspect that this man knows more about the colon of a horse than he does about teaching.

My chosen worst teacher earns his title due to three factors: the sheer volume of students he was able to affect, the duration that he held sway over them, and my knowing what a proper job should be. Luckily, he was only hired as the band director during my senior year, so I only had to endure one year under his unique brand of leadership. He simply did not understand that although he could and should be friendly with his students, he still needed to maintain a professional demeanor. He would spend time joking around during practice when we as a band were trying to accomplish things, yet he would yell and scream at students who imitated this work ethic.

It almost felt like he was trying to stifle our discovery of music. Where our previous band director would have us sightread new music almost every week to keep the band out of a rut, the new director only ran the three competition pieces; yet at the same time he would not spend the time that the band required on the more difficult sections. Also, the previous band director took the time to leave music on in the band room as often as possible as well as being available to students whenever. His replacement holes up in his office immediately after class concludes.

Planning in general seemed to be somewhere close to nonexistent (see http://www.tonedeafcomics.com/comic/lesson-plans/ ). Although he knew the scheduling of them weeks in advance, he did not notify students of after-school practices until the last minute; sometimes the same day as the practice, even after some of the students with early dismissal had already left. Then he proceeds to wonder why the entire band did not show up to to practice when the only way we found out was a small advert on an otherwise busy chalkboard. On a more personal note, I had asked him for a letter of reference for my college admission quest two months in advance, and yet he still had not gotten to it after the two months were up.

As a budding college student, I was in need of a horn to practice on during part of the summer until the tuba that had been ordered for me arrived, so I asked if I could hold onto the tuba that I had been playing on for the past two years until the end of the season. I figured that this was not too much of an imposition; apparently I was terribly mistaken. Instead of allowing me to use that horn (which I had taken impeccable care of), he instead gave it to the second chair student who earned my ire both by damaging the school instruments (resulting in a price tag of over $4000 which could have been spent elsewhere) as well as attempting to subvert the authority of the leadership positions that I held within the band. Instead, I had to fix one of the tubas that he had trashed to put it back into serviceable shape. He may as well have yelled, “Don't let the door hit your butt on the way out!” What a way to send a student who won a national individual band competition out. It came as no surprise to me that the majority of the graduating seniors seemed to hold the same opinion. Sometimes the newfangled thing is not all that it is cracked up to be.

Best Teachers

Two teachers in two years managed to change my entire view of the English language. The duo of Mrs. Adams and Mrs. Velarde helped me grow not just as a student, but as the fledgling young adult I was becoming.

Mrs. Adams, an immigrant originally from Russia, helped her students hone their abilities to use the English language for communication. We were drilled in the details of grammar and tasked to discover the author's errors in sample newspaper articles. Instead of testing us over each single section of grammar rules, she provided the opportunity to work individually or in groups to create a pamphlet on a specific section and then teach it to the class. I feel that this was a far more mature way to handle the students, and we stepped up to the plate; I feel that I learned more creating and teaching a lesson than I would have by the traditional lecture/quiz method.

Mrs. Adams also put us through a variety of simulations; the two that immediately spring to mind are Skyjack and the American Dream. Skyjack provided teams of students with an associated country, which they then had to maneuver through various political and economic decisions, trying to amass the maximum number of points while retaining the goodwill of the other groups. Although there were countries along the line of a G8 member-nation, the majority of them were at best regional powers. This helped me to dissect global situations with an ability to see beyond the slant of the news outlet. The American Dream simulation included two projects; one following the immigrants that passed through Ellis Island, and one focusing on what the American dreams means, both to ourselves and others. The Ellis Island segment chronicled the paths that immigrants in the late 19th and early 20th centuries took to become citizens. We learned what these people hoped for. The second project focused on what each student and the people he interviewed thought was the quintessential American Dream. After interviewing people about their experiences with immigrants, immigration, and what the American Dream means to them, I compiled their answers into a book of experiences, covered and bound.

Mrs. Velarde handled the literature half of the course. Exposing us to classics such as Lord of the Flies, Night, To Kill A Mockingbird, and Tom Sawyer, among others. Every set of chapters (usually 3-5) came with associated study guide questions. Primarily due to these questions, we went into the class knowing how to read a book; we came out of the class knowing how to understand a book. Each question was usually a level three question utilizing Costa's Levels of Questioning, with a number of level twos thrown in as a cushion. But lest we forget them, there were also the projects that went along with the books. These projects allowed for a certain degree of latitude in their interpretation, as well as allowing me to indulge my streak of competitive building. Instead of writing a paper on the symbolism of the various locations in Lord of the Flies, we designed a map of the island with a certain number of the various locations, then explained the significance of each location. However, there is leeway for students to deviate somewhat from the standard instructions. My map was instead a 3'x4'x2' model of the island sculpted out of Styrofoam and decorated with crafting clay. Likewise, for Night we had to design a Holocaust memorial with at least a certain number of symbols built in. Mine had half again as many symbols as needed, as well as having functioning lighting.

In short, each of these classes was difficult. Whereas most gifted teachers in Albuquerque Public Schools would hand out A's to the majority of their class just for participation, we had to earn the grade we got. Due to the same mistake repeated throughout a paper for Mrs. Velarde's class, I actually scored a -12. After the first year in their classes, we were then re-sorted into an upper class and a lower class, with the upper class moving at a quicker pace, less monitoring, and more chances to grow as individuals.

Interesting Place

The Museum of Science and Industry is in Chicago. I have been there many times. My maternal grandparents live in southwestern Michigan, so we often stop in Chicago for a day or two on our way there. My brother's and my favorite place to visit is the MSI. The museum is enormous. It was originally built for the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition. Our favorite exhibit is the Swiss Jolly Ball. It is a classic pinball game. I've spent hours watching the ball traverse the path from top to bottom and side to side. The cafeteria is nearby and there are tables where we can sit and eat our lunch while we watch the Jolly Ball. I am very fortunate that we have parents who will let us watch an exhibit for a long time and not see everything instead of rushing through to make sure we see it all. There are so many things to see we have never seen everything in one trip, but I do have my favorites that I like to see every time we go.

My love affair with trains began when I was a little boy. We have taken Amtrak to my grandparents and even to Washington, D. C. The MSI has a huge display of all sorts of trains, and there is even a model train that starts in Chicago with all of its downtown buildings and goes across the country to Seattle and the Pacific Ocean. There are all sorts of buttons to push. You can load molten iron ore into train cars, chop down trees in the Pacific Northwest, and move shipping containers from boats to train cars. Above the trains is a whole United 727 that we can walk through.

There is a submarine, the U505 which is the only German submarine in the United States captured in World War II. It used to be outside, and I could see it as we walked down a hallway with windows. Now it is inside to better preserve it and you can either walk around the outside of it and read all sorts of facts about it and submarines in World War II, or you can buy tickets to go inside. We've only gone inside once; interesting, but very tight quarters. The most important item the United States got from the submarine was an Enigma, the machine that the Germans sent their coded messages with, and the books with the codes in them.

Another favorite area of mine is the Henry Crown Space Center. They have the Apollo 8 capsule, a mock-up of the Lunar Lander from Apollo 11, and lots of different space suits throughout the years. There is even a model of the space shuttle you can go in to learn about how it works. I know this was one of the museums trying to get a space shuttle, but they didn't win; I wish they would have. That would have been so cool.

There is a farm area too. They brought in a John Deere tractor and combine. There is a movie in front of the combine, and you can wait in line to “drive” the combine through the field and harvest corn. You can even buy a container of corn to take home and grow. We bought the corn once, but I never planted it.

Have you ever seen a baby chicken hatch? There is an area about genetics, and they have a special kind of chicken that you can watch the eggs hatch and see the baby chicks. It takes those chicks forever to come out of the egg. There are even have live cloned mice to look at.

There is an entire coal mine in the museum. The line is often long for it, so we've only gone in it once. It's also dark in some areas, so my brother doesn't like it. This exhibit is so old that my Grandma went through it when she came here on a school trip from Ohio. It's fun to get in the little coal mine cars and ride through the mine. I knew then that I would not want to be a coal miner, but I have a cousin whose grandpa and uncle were coal miners.

This is just the tip of the iceberg. There is more to see than can be seen on any one trip. At this time of the year, there is Christmas Around the World with lots of Christmas trees in the museum, each one representing Christmas traditions of a country. There is the Pioneer Zephyr, the Silver Streak train that ran from Chicago to Denver in 1934. There is an old fashioned circus train that someone made by hand. One of my favorite areas I can't go in anymore because I'm too old. It was a hands on area with lots of water activities, building projects, lots of exhibits to keep my brother and I busy and occupied. I wonder if I will ever see everything that the museum has to offer? It will probably only happen if I live in Chicago.

Out My Bedroom Window

I grew up in Albuquerque, New Mexico and have lived in the same house my entire life. My bedroom is in the front of our ranch style home, and my double window with dividing panes faces east with a fantastic view of the Sandia Mountains. However, for most of the year, the mountains are only visible to me from the far outside edges of my window. In front of my window grows an Eastern Redbud which provides glorious shade for the majority of the year, blocking out the sun's radiant heat from my room.

My view changes depending on the time of the day and the season of the year. With the mountains to the east, the night sky fades every day long before the glowing sun appears in the sky. Most days the sky above the mountains is a brilliant blue, but occasionally the mountains disappear in low gray clouds, and you would never know they were there. Even more striking is when the long, thin white clouds divide the mountain top from the rest of the earth, generally appearing to originate from behind an outcrop.

A gray, bubbling bird bath stands underneath the Redbud tree. When the temperature is not freezing, the bird bath is filled with sparkling, splashing water. Tiny sparrows and big fat robins often enjoy a refreshing drink. Occasionally, a bright blue mountain jay will swoop in for a drink and a bath. The sparrows with their touch of dark red are the most frequent visitors, dunking their heads in the water, raising it back up with the water rolling down their backs while they flutter their wings in their bath.

My home is on a breakpoint. The street in front of my home is intersected by another road coming down the hill. It's a bit weird, but typical Albuquerque. My home is on one street and is numbered north/south, yet the home directly across the street has an east/west numbered address on a different street. Because the hill is steep, I can see several homes facades and front yards out my window. Earth colors for houses are very much the norm here, so they are all variants of brown, light brown, beige, light brown with a hint of peach, or yellowish-brown. Surprisingly, three of the homes have shade trees in their front yards, ash trees and purple plums, though none of them have any grass in the front yards, only gray river rock of various sizes and shades.

The Eastern Redbud tree stretches almost as wide as it is tall. Spring finds the tree loaded with tight dark fuchsia buds, curled close to the branches. As the weather warms, the buds explode covering the tree with tiny bright pink flowers. And soon, the tightly curled leaves at the end of the tender branches begin unrolling, showing their bright green, petite, heart shaped leaves. As the buds fade, or more likely with our strong spring winds, blow away, more and more leaves appear, diminutive at first, but rapidly increasing in size. With the tree enveloped in the thick coverage of leaves, birds sitting in the tree are more likely heard before they are seen. As summer progresses, hundreds of seed pods form along the branches. They begin as thin chartreuse green pods, generally growing in cluster. As they mature, they dry up, fade to a dull beige, wave in the wind, and finally fall to the ground.

As the day draws to a close, if the weather is clear, the Sandia's transform in color from their gray granite, to their namesake color, watermelon. The monsoon season in late summer provides opportunities to view rainbows in the late afternoon, sometimes full, occasionally double, oftentimes partials as the monsoon rains often cover only a small area of the city.

After the leaves dry up and are blown off the trees, the view of the mountains is once more greater in grandeur. It also means, the night sky outside my window will soon be glowing for several hours each night, and the holidays are soon approaching. Orange lights are strung throughout the tree branches in October signaling Halloween's impending arrival. Then darkness is there once more for a few weeks, followed by lighted snowflakes and orbs of bright lights hanging amongst the branches. The area above my window glows from the white icicle lights strung along the eaves. Across the street, the house front lined with three arches, and the double arches over the garage doors are lit with multicolored strands of lights.

I haven't been home since last Christmas vacation. It will be interesting to see the view out my bedroom window when I go home.

How to Hack

Sometimes, what we learn for a class follows the law of unintended consequences. Learning one technique can open pathways for both new-found applications of the technique as well as providing a beachhead from which to branch out and learn new things. Just such a thing occurred when I was preparing my movie project for Lit. and Civ. II.

Once I read the requirements for this project, I had two questions. The first was, “What movie do I choose?” Well, I at least have that portion all sorted out. The second question was, “How do I get the video clips that the project asks for?” I could come up with three answers to that question. The first was to choose my scenes and then to scour the Internet's prominent video-hosting websites. I quickly realized that due to copyright restrictions, there was a fair chance that I would have a rather difficult time finding all of the scenes I would like, so that option was out. Option number two, which I rejected out of hand, was using a pirated source. The third and final option I could think of was to acquire the movie on DVD and to decrypt it so as to have an editable copy on my external storage drive. This seemed the most flexible way to get the scenes I need without actually pirating a movie.“Is this even legal?” I wondered. It turns out, to make short work of it, that you can decrypt, copy and store videos as long as you do not distribute them to the public. This tangent track into copyright law and the history of DVD decryption helped to soothe my niggling conscience, and was a bit of interesting reading to boot.

“Now what? I have no idea what I'm doing.” Well, I went to the place where nobody knows your name: the Internet. Whenever you have a problem, no matter what it is, somebody will have likely gone through it and either asked for and received help from forums or left a self-help blog posts. Even with these helpful anecdotes at my disposal, sometimes things just don't work the first time out of the gate. Considering my test platform, Dr. Strangelove, came out with a French voiceover, the first time was not exactly the charm. Back to the drawing board I went, but couldn't quite figure out how to circumvent these apparent problems. I conceded the contest for the night and took a well-deserved rest.

Eventually, I figured out that there were actually two different pieces of software, along with supporting auxiliaries, that I needed to accomplish my goal. The first was DVD Decrypter. Out of the three pieces of software that I tested for this portion, this provided me with files that were both complete and easy to plug into the second-stage programs. The second program I decided to use goes by the moniker of Handbrake. Although the files come out of the decrypter with rather enigmatic names like VIDEO_TS.BUP, Handbrake can easily discern their purposes, almost always automatically selecting the correct settings for importing the main movie. After choosing the correct folder, the files are easily transformed into a new complete video with an extension more easily understood, such as the AVI and MP4. Handbrake also provides a plethora of options, allowing you to choose what to retain and what to discard so as to increase compression rates. When I worked with my process, in went a double-layered DVD (~7.6 gigabytes) and out came an MP4 file at about 6x compression, ready to be played on any computer.

For an assignment that boiled down to “show some video clips from your choice of greatest comedy movie and explain why you like it,” I learned far more than what I think makes a comedy movie great. Instead, I gained a passing familiarity with a few aspects of copyright law, researched the differences and conversions between digital storage files, and learned the aspects and differences between certain software packages and how to distinguish what I'll want. Most of these lessons were not included in the guidelines nor would they be taught in any of the courses at TCU, yet I feel that I gained information that is just as valuable to my career as what I learned from the assignment.

If you are looking to do this, I highly suggest looking through the website http://www.dvdshrink.info/guides.php, which has rather useful interactive step-by-step tutorials. I didn't find it until this point in the story.