My last post was in March. It's funny how quickly the time goes. I felt like I did that update last week. First I have a few photos taken from that chronological gulf.














What more is there to say? Lots. There is a part of me that is desparetly trying to keep up this blog, like the lone captain of a mortally wounded B17 bomber fighting the controls even as the last of his crew bails out. Well, it's not quite that hopeless. I have this bad habit of following a metaphor to it's conclusion, relavence be damned. It was a good one, yes?

I am also trying to turn SoKoNotes from a blog on teaching to a blog on photography. I'm toying with changing the name. But to what? Nevermind. If anything particularly clever strikes me, I'll let my (maybe two, three) loyal readers know. Until then, SoKoNotes is now a photography blog.

With that in mind, I'll start by talking about teaching.

My last chess class came and went last week. Technically speaking, my Championship Chess classes came to an end three weeks ago, but I continued giving private lessons to a group in Cumming up until last week. The parents of that group honored me with a nice gift and a little extra pay. I recommended another coach, but they didn't want anyone but me. They said I was the only chess coach who could put up with their kids.

I have to admit, their kids were a handful. The best player was Rohan. Nine, male and mildly spoiled. However, he was as bright as a 100-watt light bulb, and from the very beginning he became the bane of whoever was across the board from him. He had a gift for learning that was disarming. Rohan never cried or gave up hope when someone actually beat him (we went to a tournament at one point). Instead, he turned his loss into a win by applying the same strategy against his next opponant!

Through teaching chess I've had the opportunity to peer into the world of parenting. Strange place. Through talking to and observing parents, I've determined there are three attitudes towards afterschool programs such as chess. Rather, there are three kinds of parents: Those parents who are strapped for time, those parents who actually want their children to broaden their knowledge, and those parents who just want a little peace and quiet.

No single set of parents falls completely into one of those categories. And in some families, one parent falls into one category and the other a different one. I've had a mother pick up her son on time and grill me for ten minutes on what I taught that day. The very next week dad shows up twenty minutes late, throws me an abashed nod, grabs his kid and bolts. The parents in my former chess homegroup use the hour's break from the screaming to catch up on gossip and cook dinner in peace.

Another odd phenomenon I've observed is the dorkification that accompanies some people's transitions into parenthood. Some people consider a couple of rugrats excuse enough to start wearing ridiculous shoes, floppy hats in hyper colors bizarre sweaters and generally let themselves go. I suppose having a child is like giving up half of your life, giving that time and energy to your offspring.

In general I am in awe of the parents who picked up their kids from my chess classes. The time, money and energy they appear to expend seems tremendous. I wonder if I'll have that kind of energy when I have kids.

I am currently trying to expand my business to cater to these very same parents. Just today I photographed my old math tutor playing with her two toddlers. Some photographers make their entire living from this alone. The same parents who fall into the "expand my child's mind" category mentioned above also usually fall into the "document every waking moment in my child's life" category. I'll probably be one of these camera-and-credit-card wielding maniacs.

Well, I hate to suddenly cut this post off, but I'm tired. Got a lot to do tomorrow. I'll try keeping this blog going. Photography is fun. Running a business is challenging. There are people out there who want to read about both.

Peace,

Stephen "Notes" Jones