Christmas came early...

My wife and I made a deal a while back that went something like this; We’d save money to buy a new sofa and then save money to buy a new HDTV.

She’s wanted a new sofa for several years and I’ve wanted a big HDTV ever since they first went on the market. A few months ago we got the sofa and started saving for the TV.

I, or I guess really we, had saved a little more than half of the money for the TV that I had researched and decided we needed. (Yes, I said needed, not simply wanted!) I set my sights set on a 40” Sony flat screen.

I was hoping to get the new TV sometime early in 2008, however, thanks to a very early and very generous Christmas gift to the entire family from my mother-in-law, we were able to buy the new TV yesterday.

After playing with the settings for most of the afternoon, we watched a movie on the new TV last night. And baby, it was sweet!

This morning I hooked up my PS2 and gave some up close and personal assistance to the US Navy SEALS as they battled a South American drug lord.


And in the end, a good time was had by all…




Well, maybe not by the drug lord.

My Technical Nemesis…the wireless router

I set up my first wireless router this summer, and I nearly lost my religion.

I would spend a completely frustrating hour on the phone with some guy in India (I asked him where he was during one of the 15 times I was forced to reboot my computer) as I would try to get my Linksys router’s settings to gel with my SpeedStream modem, only to find out that the problem was with my DSL provider.

Then I would then spend another equally frustrating amount of time on the phone with SWBell trying to undo all the different IP Address and Default Gateway Address code changes that the Linksys guy had made me make.

After that, I would have to head over to my school district’s computer support services department to have their guys tweak my firewall settings, and who knows what else, just to bypass all the goofy security measures they had installed.

Finally, I would end up calling the Linksys guy in India back, reporting all the SWBell and district changes I had made, just so he could say something like, “Now, click the DSL Override button.”

However, after about a month of the hi-tech musical chairs I finally got my desktop’s internet connection back up and running, as well as my wireless laptop’s.

And my Internet life was good, until…

We had a power surge about two weeks ago and suddenly neither my desktop, or my laptop could connect to the Internet.

Don’t ask me how, but somehow I managed to get the desktop’s connection back up and running. However, my laptop would show the connection, and say it was connected, but I couldn’t access anything.

After three calls to India, making someone in India extremely mad at me, and two more calls to SWBell, I am finally back up and running…Internet connection wise that is.

It’s all very humbling for a guy who takes great pride in his “Do-it-Yourself” abilities.

I guess some things are best left to the professionals…

Kids say the darndest things

So we’re in the middle of a writing lesson, but not just any writing lesson, oh no, this was a lesson being taught by the school’s, if not the district’s, most knowledgeable teacher. (We’ll call her JF for short) JF, from time to time, is able to come in our class and “Guest Lecture.”

The lesson was on when, why, where and how to take your writing and go deeper with details. Details that can make the difference between a story that is well written and easy to read, and one that truly comes alive for the reader.

JF was using the nursery rhyme Little Miss Muffet as her background text. She used this story for two reasons, first, because all the children already know the rhyme, and second, because it’s short and easy to finish in a couple days.

She instructed everyone to close their eyes and imagine how Little Miss Muffet looked to them. Then we opened our eyes and gave details about what she looks like, what she was doing, where she was and that sort of thing.

Jf had already taken quite a few notes about how you could tell that Miss Muffet was scared, and was in the middle of making a list of details about her size. I was sitting off to the side and was helping as best as I could. (Remember, this lady has forgotten more about teaching writing than I’ll ever know!) Then it happened.

We already had details like, “Skinny as a stick, dirty clothes, and messy hair.” However, what the next child thought of took us all by surprise.

“I think she’s flat chested,” said a small voice from the middle of the room. Even as the words were floating out into the room, I felt my jaw tighten, and my lips pucker. My head did a mental Google search. I was hoping I had heard her wrong and that my mind might come up with some alternative to the words, “FLAT CHESTED.” But alas, my ears hadn’t failed me.

JF simple stood there with a thoughtful look in her eye. After about 5 seconds she said in normal, level toned voice, “Okay, we can put that.”

I, on the other hand, was having to fain sudden, and urgent business in the dictionary. I sat there doing everything I could do to not make eye contact with anyone, and also not to laugh. I knew, that at least for me, eye contact would mean sudden, and uncontrollable laughter.

I’m sitting there trying to concentrate on how proud I am of JF for not laughing, when she bursts out laughing.

Of course, after that a good laugh was had by all…even those who had no idea what we were actually laughing at.

Ah, kids…they say the darndest things.

Things Are Getting Better

I know enough about the grief process to know that it cannot be avoided. I think it may be possible to get stuck in one of the stages, but when someone this close to you dies, like it or not, you’re going through it.

I think I still have the “why him” questions. Maybe I always will, but this morning while I was thinking/praying about the events of the last few days I stumbled across a piece of reality that is helping to make all this better.

In my last posting I said, “I want to be able to wrap my mind around some concept, some truth, some piece of reality that will make this all better.”

The truth is that I have been given a gift. I was able to be a part of Homer’s life for almost 20 years. I had the opportunity to call him family. I’m not sure what I’ll do with this truth, but for now focusing on that is helping.

Thanks for listening.

I don't understand...

I went to a close friend’s funeral on Tuesday, and it was quite possibly the hardest funeral I’ve ever had to attend.

You see, Homer was my car enthusiast pal, my house painting buddy, my guy to call when you need a favor right now…Homer was my father-in-law.

I want it to make sense. I want to understand why.

I know life and death and living and dying rarely if ever make any sense, but damn it, I want this to make sense. I want understand what part of God’s big plan needed for Homer, a perfectly health man, to go to bed one night and then just not wake up. I want to be able to wrap my mind around some concept, some truth, some piece of reality that will make this all better.


I don’t think this is too much to ask.

Spelling Tests and 4th Grade Hecklers

Whenever I give spelling tests I try to add a wee-bit of humor to the day. Sometimes I’ll have students think of and blurt out different nouns, and then I choose one and use it in the sentences that I say with each word. Other times I’ll pick one student and have that student doing strange things in each sentence. And still other times I just say whatever wacky thing happens to pop into my head.

Today I went with my off-the-cuff, whatever pops into my head routine…and baby I was hot! I had ‘em in the palm of my hand. And let me tell you, it’s not quite as easy as you might think to keep a room full of nine and ten year olds in stitches. Well, maybe it is, but never the less, I was on fire.

I looked down and “gown” was the next word. Of course the first thing I think of is wedding gown. Before I knew what I was saying this sentence popped out of my mouth.

“At my wedding, the gown looked great on me!”

And everyone laughed.

However, just as the laughing was beginning to die down, a tiny voice from the corner of the room squeaked out these words,
“Mr. A, are you trying to tell us something?”

And the room completely fell apart.

Just when you’re thinking about taking your act on the road, you get taken down by an unruly 4th grade heckler.

Sometimes teaching can be brutal.

An Unusual Sight...at Least for Me

unusual
adjective
1. not usual or common or ordinary;
2. being definitely out of the ordinary and unexpected;
3. not commonly encountered;

While I think all three of these definitions would make sense in the context of my situation yesterday, really the third definition is the one that makes the most sense…at least for me.

You see, yesterday my daughter brought home here first jr. high report card and she got all A’s. She even had a 100 average in not one, but two of her seven classes.

I think I’ve mentioned things before about my lack of success as a student, at least through my high school days. I mean I never saw all A’s until I was in graduate school. And I’m sorry if this ruffles your feathers, but getting a 4.0 in seminary just ain’t all that hard!

So my head is still spinning as I try to wrap my mind around this crazy new world.

Because all A's on a report card really is an unusual sight...at least for me.

Life on a Cloud

Feeling safe and secure in my own little space,
Yes, safe and secure, cause there’s never a trace

Of any real danger or sadness or hurt,
I always have dinner and usually dessert

The world that I know is not a cruel place,
When I go to sleep, there’s a smile on my face

I have a wonderful family, supports always there,
I’m surrounded with love, compassion and care

Yet I know that not everyone lives like I do,
That our world, it has pain and suffering too

It’s just far too easy to look past the pain,
To live in my world and try to stay sane

I exist on a cloud with the pain far below,
If I squint I can see it, or at least I think so

Sometimes from way down, I can hear a faint hum,
So I toss down some pennies, a quarter…a crumb

Then I fluff up my cloud and think, “Man, I’m sure nice!”
Of the folks down below I don’t even think twice

But my cloud took a dip, and I came face to face,
With a world and an image my mind can’t erase

What I saw was a world where children have fear,
Where they’re yelled at and beaten, but just why was not clear

I looked deep in a face, whose gaze came back hollow,
The despair that I saw was a hard pill to swallow

With my cloud way up high, my life was so easy
But now I’m uncertain, and I feel a bit queasy

Now my cloud’s not so fluffy, and a little less white
The temptation to clean it, I hope I can fight

I’m still trying to figure out what I should do,
Cause if clouds can float down, I’m sure help can too.

I'm trying to write...no really!

Have you ever had one of those periods in your life when you just don’t seem to have time to get everything done that you want to?

And when you have those times, do you find yourself prioritizing your to-do list for the week?

Then does it always seem like you can never find time to accomplish the last few things on your list, so you just keep moving bumping them over to the next week in hopes of somehow finding the time to do them?

If so, then welcome to my world.

The beginning of each teaching year is like that for me. Nothing, other than school stuff, ever seems to get done. Due to my inability to “jump” right back into the swing of things I spend what feels like an eternity playing catch up.

You would think after 14 years of teaching I would have figured out how to flip my school mode personality on and off like a light. However, I spend several weeks winding down at the beginning of the summer and several more getting geared back up in the fall.

All that to say, I’m trying to write…I really am.

On a fun note, I read my Frog Memory (You can read it here) story to my class and they laughed like it was the funnies thing they had ever heard. I even got a few fun comments and two or three odd looks from some of the parents the next day.

I’m not sure, but I think this only confirms their suspicions that they have a strange teacher. A mindset that I do everything I possibly can to encourage.

With this age of kid, the weirder you are the better…at least in my mind.

What ever happened to Jr. High?

When I was in jr. high it was very different than it is today…at least that’s my impression. Sure, it was 30 years ago, but I don’t remember there being such a huge effort to teach organization skills as well as the curriculum.

At my daughter’s school every student has a day planner that they MUST have with them at all times. If you are ever caught without it, then you get after school detention.

I had never even heard of a day planner until I was in graduate school, and by then all my bad scheduling habits were so ingrained that it was literally teaching an old dog new tricks. Actually, one of my goals for this school year has to do with organization. I’m going to do my lesson plans on the computer, because I tend to keep better track of the things I do if they are on the computer.

But I digress…

All I remember about jr. high was trying to look cool while at the same time keep my grades above the D mark, a stunt that didn’t always happen. The only choices I had were whether or not to play football and if I wanted to take art or music. I just circled my choices on a sheet of paper and stuck it in a box.

For Macy it’s a lot like college was for me. She has to decide about athletics, pre-AP classes and band. Basically she arranges her own schedule. She’s making decisions in jr. high that effect classes she will be able to take in high school that can give her college credit!

Growing up in El Paso, my dad was of staff at UTEP, so I knew what college was. I probably couldn’t have spelled the word college, but I knew it was a place people went after high school.

There’s always somewhere she’s supposed to be, something she’s supposed to have and somebody we’re supposed to give money to. All I know is Melissa and I are being baptized by fire.

It’s a whole new world.

Another FUNY Thing Happened...

I'm sorry about the spelling problem with my last posting's title. You would think that I could at least write the title without any spelling errors!

Now let me see...what would I say to one of my fourth graders if he or she turned in a paper with the title misspelled?

I bet it wouldn't be funy...

Funy Things Happen...

My school has a new principal.

This is my 14th teaching year, but only my first time to get a new principal. I’ve changed schools twice and have changed principals both of those times, but this is a wee-bit different.

Having your boss be the new kid on the block is a little strange. However, his personality and his “If it ain’t broke don’t fix it” attitude, are making the transition very easy.

Last week he sent out an email to the entire faculty. It sounded something like this:

“For future reference, if you happen to see me walking through the building with a dab of icing on my chin, please feel free to point it out to me.”

As I read the message I wasn't sure if he was trying to just make a random request to break the ice with his new staff, or if something like this had happened to him.

The next time I saw him I asked him why he would make such a request and he turned red.

It seems that early that morning someone in the building had given him a cupcake. He ate the cupcake and went about the business of being a principal. He had spent time in the office, walked through several classrooms, and more than likely had talked with more than a couple of parents.

Sometime around lunch he happened by a mirror and noticed a spot of icing that had been on his chin for most of the day.

I must admit…I laughed out loud at his story, but he laughed too.

It makes things much easier when you discover that not only is your new boss a regular guy, but he's also kind of person who can laugh at himself.

Like I said, funny things happen!

My Jesus Shoes

Growing up in El Paso I wore flip-flops all the time. This was long before flip-flops were such a huge fashion statement. Due to the fact that, like most boys, I either tended to be extra rough on, and or lose items of this type of clothing, I can’t imagine my mom spent much more than a dollar for each pair of flip-flops.

A few years ago I was walking through Dillard’s when I saw a pair of Tommy Hilfiger flip-flops sitting on a sale table. They were originally $35.00, but marked down to $12.00. I’m not sure exactly why, but I decided to buy them.

So began my rekindled love affair with flip-flops.

For a while now my flip-flops have been showing signs of age. However, it wasn’t until the cruise that they began rubbing a blister between my toes. Sadly, I decided to retire my flip-flops and search for a new pair.

I tend to be rather picky about things like shoes and spent a few months looking. I didn’t look everyday, or even every week for that matter. It was just if I happened to find myself in a store where they happened to sell flip-flops I would take a look and see if anything caught my eye.

I had just about given up hope of finding a pair when I happened though that same Dillard’s and came across the perfect pair…on the sale table. There are no flashy colors, no zippy slogans, and no fancy stitching. They’re even a little jagged around the edges.

Melissa and Macy think they are ugly and can’t stand them. (A fact that makes wearing them all that much more fun!)

Looking down I said, “You know, if Jesus was here today I think that this is precisely the type of shoe he would wear. There’s even a fish on the bottom!"

"I guess it’s slipped your mind that Jesus hung out with a bunch of fishermen!”

My goal was to shame them into liking my shoes, but alas that hasn't worked...yet.

Maybe someday they’ll see the light, and embrace my Jesus shoes.

Now That's Farmin'!!!

I’ve got this neighbor who we’ll call Old McDonald.

Now, Old McDonald is quite a guy. As far as “Do-It-Your-Self-ers” go, he is the man. Old McDonald has lived here for over 30 years. I’ve only been here for the last 10 of those years, but that’s long enough to be quite amazed by the jobs he’s pulled off. To date, I’ve been a bystander as he installed his own sprinkler system, laid the wood floor in his house, tiled his front porch, and hung his own front door. However, in the 20 years before I got here there’s no telling what he did.

I like to think of myself as a fairly savvy, home project kind of guy. Thanks to my dad, I can fix more than my fair share of things around the house. However, it’s more than a little bit humbling to discuss home repairs with Old McDonald, because I know that inside he’s just laughing.

Old McDonald is also quite the farmer. In the back-40, which is really just a strip in the alley out behind his house, he’s always got something good growing. For the last couple of years it’s been tomatoes and peppers. And baby, these are some seriously good tomatoes and some seriously hot peppers. Old McDonald went out of town for a few weeks and told me I could have any tomatoes that turned red while he was gone, not many did, but the ones that did were very, very tasty. Every time I went anywhere I made a close inspection of each tomato in the garden.

Little did I know that Old McDonald was taking his farming to a new level.

It was after Old McDonald got home, and we were talking over the fence about the tomatoes, my new foundation repair and all kinds of stuff, when he was telling me about some problem one of his gutter downspouts was having due to all the rain we’ve had.

He was in mid-sentence as he gestured up to the gutter on the second floor above his garage. What we saw silenced him, raised my eyebrows, and made both of us smile.

“Went with corn this year did ya?” Was all I could think to say.

I don’t remember exactly who said what, but we each made several wisecracks about keeping the rabbits off, how hard it was to plant, and being a bitch to harvest.

Like the song says;

“…and on his house he had some corn, ee-i-ee-i-oh!”

OKC

“Oklahoma City? What’s in Oklahoma City?”

These are the words that somehow stumbled out of my mouth when I was asked if I had any interest in making the journey.

I was quickly informed that the Oklahoma City (OKC for short) has one of, if not the, largest collections of Chihuly glass in the world. I’ve seen some Chihuly glass, and it’s pretty amazing, so I said, “Sure, let’s go.”

I think I was more excited about making a road trip with our friends Darryl and Winjie than I was to see the Chihuly, but I figured the glass would be fun too. I really wasn’t expecting much more that a fun time with some good friends, and the chance to see some Chihuly glass…but it turned out to be better than I expected.

First things first, the Chihuly glass was incredible. I am officially a fan. Not that I’m going to be buying any to decorate my home any time soon, but seeing this huge exhibit and watching a video showing the incredible process each piece goes through has made me think twice about buying some...you know, when we win the lotto and all.

We also went to the National Memorial of the Oklahoma City bombing. I was both very impressed and deeply moved. I’ve written before the closed head injury and my emotions, and this was really hard for me to make it through. I mean if you cry at Tide commercials, something like this puts you through the ringer.

The memorial, inside and out, is wonderfully done. It walks you through the day and you leave with a true understanding of what this did to the community and how the community pulled together to overcome such a horrible time in its history.

I must admit, I never really understood the whole empty chair sculpture thing out on the lawn. I thought it looked good, especially lit up at night, but now I understand…it makes sense.

I gave up trying to put into words here how seeing it made it all make sense, because nothing I wrote seemed to do it justice. Visit if you have the chance and I think you’ll see what I mean.

And last but not least, we went to the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum. We had been told by Melissa’s mother that it was a good museum and worth seeing. I went along simply because I didn’t think it would kill me. However, I was pleasantly surprised. There was a whole section devoted to John Wayne, Buck Rogers and all the old movie cowboys. Not to mention, the all the great guns they had on display. Overall, the museum was fun. Well, except for when Darryl and I were forced to dress up like cowboys for a picture. I’ll post a picture of the two roughriders in western garb as soon as I get one from Darryl.


Now for the food:

I didn’t want to go to Oklahoma City and eat at places I could eat at in Dallas. Chili’s, On the Border, or places like that. I wanted to experience some real OKC cuisine. And experience it we did!

There’s a place downtown that Melissa and Winjie knew all about called, Bricktown. Bricktown is a kind of downtown revitalization thing, I think. While we weren’t all that impressed with what Bricktown had to offer in the way of Friday night entertainment, it does have a fun micro-brewery called Tap Werks, and Tap Werks has good food, cold beer and a fun atmosphere.

We also ate a fun place called Shorty Small’s. It’s a BBQ and burger kind of joint that was also rich in OKC flavor and tradition. It was good, but the BBQ sandwich, while good, couldn’t hold a candle to Peggy Sue BBQ here in Dallas. This is a fact that I decided against sharing with our waitress. However, their blackberry cobbler was more than a wee-bit tasty.

Saturday night, we went out to the lake, and sadly I don’t even know which lake it was. It was one of those lakes with lots of water. We went just to go see the sunset and sit and talk. We went to a restaurant/bar called Pearl’s Lakeside, had some more to eat, and sat outside by the water and listened to a band called 2AM. They were good enough that we even bought one of their CD's.

Get this; we even closed down the place! I know what you’re thinking, “Man, they are some party animals!” However, I should probably tell you that last call was at 11:00PM and not 2:00AM.

What can I say – It’s Oklahoma.

Sunday morning we had breakfast at a place called The Classen Grill. It was another old time, been there for over 50 years kind of OKC institution, and it was good too.

I have to thank Winjie for doing all the restaurant research. She somehow found our about all these great places and she even had directions and maps to boot!

So should you go to Oklahoma City for your next vacation? I’m not sure it has all the makings for full-blown vacation, because after a couple of days I was ready to hit the road.

But next time you’ve got a weekend to burn, give OKC try, you may just enjoy yourself…I know I did.

This is the Life!

The only 7-Eleven in Texas that changed to a Kwik-E-Mart for the Simpson's movie is only about 5 miles from my house. So of course I had to go get a Squishee and some Buzz Cola. I decided to buy a 6-pack so I can send a couple to Gordon.

Here I am with my recent purchases.

Foundations of Life

Unlike the title of this post might suggest, this isn’t writing with a deep theological meaning. I’ll leave that to Real Live Preacher.

I first began to notice some foundation issues a few years after we moved in. Doors sticking, cracks in the sheetrock, and a couple of cracks in the bricks on one side of our house. We had a soaker hose that went around about half of the house, and at first, simply having that on for an hour or two was all we needed to fix the sticking doors.

Sadly, the soaker hose hasn’t been fixing things recently and I decided it was time to bite the bullet.

There are about 10 guys are out there working, so I decided to take a few pictures and write a bit about what’s going on. For a man (some say simply a big kid) with a love of anything mechanical, this was a dream come true! Baby, I’m having a blast.

I put a cooler full of ice and water bottles on the porch this morning for the guys as kind of a bribe. I think it worked, because they haven’t minded me poking around and taking pictures.

The type of repair we decided on is the concrete pressed pilings. These are six inch in diameter x 12-inch long cement cylinders with a hole running straight through the center of the length of the cylinder. The put rebar in the hole and a kind mortar between the cylinders to stabilize the piling. They dig as many of these holes as the engineer says they need. For us it was it was 14, but the average is 10.


Cement cylinders

First, they dig a 2 foot square hole, that is about 5 feet deep right next to the foundation. Then they put the cylinders into the hole one at a time and use a hydraulic jack to press them down into the ground. They keep on pressing these into the ground until the amount of force needed to press the cylinder into the ground is greater than the amount of force needed to lift the house. Then they put a wider piece on top of the last cylinder and use jacks and shims to level it
off.


Looking down into a hole



One wall of holes



Finished piling with shims

Even as I’m writing, I can both hear and feel the work that’s being done right outside my window. This is the closest I’ve ever come to being in an earthquake…it’s kind of fun.

My cats are freaking out! I’m talking arched backs, big tails and everything!

They should be finished today, with maybe a little bit of work to do tomorrow. You know, holes filled in and bushes put back – that sort of thing.

They’ve barely started to shim things up, and already my two doors that stick aren’t sticking anymore.


Not too shabby, not too shabby.

Some People are Really Stupid...

So Melissa and I are going to the movie. We saw Ocean’s 13 and it was very entertaining. However, that’s not the crux of this story.

We went to the Northpark AMC 15 Theater. Northpark is a mall here in Dallas and the theater is relatively new. Usually I don’t like going to theaters in malls, but this one is about the closest theater to our house, and the parking is usually better than most of the other theaters.

We’re looking for a parking spot when I turned down an aisle and first witnessed the shenanigans happening down at the other end. As we crept down the aisle looking for a spot to park, my gaze was locked on a small four-door sedan and a minivan.

At first it looked like the sedan was leaving a front row spot and the van was being impatient as it waited to park. However, it quickly became clear that the sedan was trying to twist its way around, via some very creative forward and reverse maneuvers, and steal this space from the minivan.

The minivan was doing its best to crowd, but not touch the sedan in order to somewhat forcefully persuade her not to park there.

It is important to know that there were two African-American ladies in the sedan, and a white lady driving the minivan.

Melissa and I were immediately entertained. The first thing we thought of was the Seinfeld episode where George gets into the parking dispute while trying to parallel park.

We’re laughing and having a good time, all the while waiting for them to get finished so we can find our own spot.

The sedan finally gets into the spot and the minivan starts to pull away and stops. I don’t mind telling you that I began to get a little worried. It’s a sad state of affairs, but people have been shot here in Dallas for much less.

The lady in the minivan rolls down the window and shouts at the top of her lungs, “That’s why everyone hates black people!” Then she drives off.

My first thought was, “Oh, why did you have to bring race into it?” Then I thought, “You mean, if you hate black people it’s because of the way they park?”

Then I saw the driver of the sedan shaking her head, and I decided I wanted to say something to her. I drove over to the exact spot that the other lady had made her idiotic remarks, stopped my car, looked over at the lady and smiled.

She looked back, but didn’t smile and seemed a bit guarded.

“I’m sorry she said what she said.” I told her. “That was very mean and it’s just not true, please don’t listen to her. I like you because of what you did! That was great parking!”

She smiled and her passenger said, “Thanks, but we never listen to people like that.”

I drove off feeling like I had done something good, fought the good fight.

It wasn’t long before that lady’s words started to haunt me, “We never listen to people like that…we never listen to people like that…we NEVER listen to people like that.”

I only happened to be there while these two ladies were treated like second class citizens. And it’s something they deal with enough to be able to say, “We never listen to people like that.”

I don't feel like I'm going through life with blinders on. I mean, I've seen my fair share of bad stuff, but I guess in reality I’m pretty sheltered.


Like I said, Some People are Really Stupid...

Childless in July

At 8:30 this morning you could find us, along with about 200 of our closest friends, at Inwood Village on Lovers Lane here in Dallas. This is our third year to put Macy on a bus and sent her off to camp for a month. There really weren’t any tears this time, at least not from us.

The family of a friend of ours put their little girl on the bus for the first time, and that sure brought back some memories. But in the end, all was well.

For the next month we’ll communicate by US Mail and, when we’re lucky, we’ll get a glimpse of our daughter enjoying one of her many activities on Waldemar’s web site. (They post 50 to 100 pictures a day)

Other than that I’m not sure what I’m going to do with myself. Oh, I’ve got a list of projects. One of which involves me ripping everything out the master closet, painting and installing all new ClosetMaid wire shelves, drawers, and shoe racks…I’ll keep you posted on that one.

Power Restored!

After a day of electrical mystery all circuits are up and running, all our gauges have acceptable readings, and we’re good to go.

We limped along on half power for about 24 hours, but in the end everything turned out fine, and…it didn’t cost me a penny!

Dropped Power Leg???

“Mr. Atkinson, sounds like you’ve got a dropped power leg.”

“Umm…so what does that mean?”

“Well now, that’s hard to say. Could be something simple, it could be something really big, or it could be a bunch of small problems all combined, there’s just no way to tell until we get out there, dig things up and check ‘em out.”

This is never the conversation you want to have with your power company.

That was about 6:45 this morning. Since then I’ve discovered that not only are they going to have to replace about 100 yards of underground cable going to my house, but it’s an all day job with no real idea of a time or even a date for completion.

We’re getting more than our fair share of rain here in Dallas, maybe that’s to blame. Whatever the reason, the power in our house started acting rather strange yesterday afternoon. We were down the street with some friends when Melissa came home to get something and discovered our power dilemma.

What's odd is, only some of our power is out.

· The lights in our family room are out, but the television works.
· The main light in my daughters room is on, but all of her outlets are out.
· The main lights in our guest/computer room are out, but the outlets work just fine.
· The A/C keeps trying to turn on, but doesn’t have enough power, so I just turned it off.
(So I’m very happy to have the cooler rain temperatures for the day)
· Luckily, our fridge is still working, but the oven and microwave only have about half power.
· If I flip the light switch in the guest room, the oven’s timer beeps.

And the bizarre list goes on and on and on...


I don’t think Ben Franklin had this in mind when he flew his kite.

It wasn't a Rock...

The B-52’s (You can check them out here) had a concert at the House of Blues here in Dallas last night.

And we were there baby!

The fact that Melissa not only listened to the B-52’s, but also owned at least one of their albums was one of the first things I liked about her. I’ve liked the B-52’s ever since I first heard Rock Lobster. Back then their music seemed so kooky and unusual that it was hard for me not to like them.

I liked the fact that their songs were written about the most bizarre things. This was the late 1970’s and early 1980’s and all the music I was used to hearing was either some sappy love story put to music, or it was some AC/DC type of band singing about being “Back in Black.”

Don’t get me wrong, I really like those songs too, but I couldn’t understand half the words, and the half I could understand didn’t make any sense. Not that that made all that much difference.

However, with the B-52’s I could understand the words…I didn’t have any idea how they came up with the words, but they were catchy and I enjoyed both listening and singing along.

That being said, the concert was great!

The House of Blues' theater is pretty small, with a mosh pit and seats in the balcony. We sat in the balcony and could see and hear everything. My only complaint, if you can call it that, is that they didn’t play Quiche Lorranie, one of my favorites.

It was a lot of fun, well worth the money, and I’d go back to see them again in a heartbeat!



…it was a Rock Lobster!

SPAMALOT

I don’t think I had ever seen a musical on stage until the first year I got married. I had been to lots of plays, and had seen the movie versions of things like The Sound of Music, but as for experiencing a musical live and in person, I didn’t really understand the appeal.

However, shortly after our wedding my father-in-law gave us season tickets to the Dallas Summer Musicals…and I was hooked! There’s something about being in the audience as it is being performed that’s really cool.

A couple of years ago my father-in-law thought that the upcoming season look particularly good, and he decided to get season tickets for the four of us. We enjoyed the season so much that we’ve repeated our season tickets for the last three or four years. However, this is the first season that Spamalot has come to Dallas.

Spamalot is basically the Holy Grail put to music. The Playbill puts it this way:

Monty Python’s
SPAMALOT
A New Musical (lovingly) ripped off from the motion picture
"Monty Python and the Holy Grail"

I’m here to tell you that it is simply incredible! - My new favorite musical.

If you're even kind of a Python fan, then do whatever you must to go see it...It’s well worth your time and money.

MAY THE FORCE BE WITH YOU...

Wednesday, Macy and I went to the Star Wars exhibit (You can check it out here) at the Fort Worth Science and History museum. I, being somewhat of a Star Wars nut, was super excited. Macy, who was born a couple of decades after the original movie came out, doesn’t truly appreciate these films like I do. However, she tagged along promising to do her best to not get too bored.

I had a blast and Macy really enjoyed herself as well. There is also an IMAX film all about the history of special effects, and it was great. If you are any kind of a Star Wars fan I would highly recommend going to this exhibit. However, I read somewhere that Fort Worth is the only city in the Southwester United States that is going to host this exhibit, but that may or may not be true. The exhibit will only be in Fort Worth through the middle of September.

I snuck a camera in and managed to covertly snap a few photos…take a look at what we saw.



This is the actual landspeeder that
Luke Skywalker drove in the original
Star Wars movie. It was much smaller
than I had imagined.







A couple of the extremely detailed miniatures used in the filming.


One of the many Darth Vader costumes
from the original movie.



The inside of Darth Vader's helmet.


And of course, the most feared of all the
Jedi Lords, Hughbi-Wan-Kanoobi!



May the force be with you always.

It's a Snuba Miracle

When I told you about our cruise, I mentioned how much fun the snuba was on Roatan, but I didn’t say anything about the snuba miracle. Here’s how it goes.

We’re out about 200 yards from the shore enjoying a close-up look at the second largest reef system in the world…did I mention how much fun the whole snuba thing was?

Anyway, there were three people hooked to Gordon’s tanks and two hooked up to mine. We had been out for about an hour, I guess, and both of our tanks were running pretty low on air. I decided to go down deep one more time when water started seeping into my mask. It got up to just below my eyes and I headed for the surface. Just as broke the surface the salt water got in my eyes.

Popping the mask off and looking around I could tell that the seawater had washed out my left contact. I had only just barely started my cursing when I looked down at my mask and noticed my contact stuck right inside the space where my nose had been. I quickly grabbed it and proudly announced to the group that I found my missing contact.

“Great, can you put it back in?” Was the gleeful reply from Mark, our happy but somewhat shocked snuba guide.

However, as handy as he was, Mark hadn’t anticipated needing a mirror that day. So I sat there with my contact squeezed tightly between the thumb and index finger of my right hand.

Suddenly, out of nowhere another guide shows up in a yellow kayak and tells me to take the kayak back to shore. Somehow I manage to climb into this kayak, grab onto the paddle, and row myself back to shore all without losing my contact.

By the time I get to the shore there were several people from the snuba place standing there. One guy asks, “Are you the guy with the contact?” I nod and he says, “Don’t worry about the kayak, just go take care of you your eye.”

I get my backpack with my contact solution, rinse it off and pop it right back in.

It was a snuba miracle!



Oh yeah, my niece Reiley also got to pet a shark…I guess that’s kind of miraculous too.

Dukes of Hazard

So we go to see the musical Chicago last night here in Dallas. On the way, Melissa is telling me some of the actors playing the major roles. I think she mentioned that Tom Wopat would be playing Billy Flynn, but I didn’t recognize his name. Now, if she had said Luke Duke…well that would have been another story.

We go in and Macy is look trying to decide which Chicago shirt she wants to buy, when I notice this guy standing next to the souvenir booth. The first thing that catches my eye is that fact that he’s wearing a hat. Not a big deal, but you don’t see many ball cap type hats at the Dallas summer musicals.

That’s when I noticed how much he looks like Luke Duke from the show Dukes of Hazard. Same facial features, only older. I keep glancing over, trying to decide if it’s him and wondering why, if it is in fact him, he would be in Dallas, of all places.

I’m paying for a shirt when the guy taking my money points to the guy and says, “He was on the Dukes of Hazard.”

Melissa leans over and said, “That’s Tom Wopat! He’s playing Billy Flynn.”

I shake his hand and say, “You know, I ruined my 1974 Camaro trying jump it like the General Lee.”

He shook his head and just said, “Not my fault..not my fault.”

The musical was great, and Tom Wopat did a really good job.

Even without jumping an orange car over a bumbling sheriff.

Cruising

As celebration of my parent’s 50th wedding anniversary, the 13 members of the Atkinson clan set sail a week and a half ago for the Mexican side of the Caribbean. The ports we hit were Cozumel, Roatan and Progreso. We were also supposed to stop at Costa Maya, but choppy waters closed the dock that day, so we ended up going back and spending a second day in Cozumel, which ended up being a good thing.
The highlights of the trip for me were touring Chichen Itza, Snuba, the underground river in Xcaret, and of course smoking my first Cuban cigar.

Chichen Itza:
As for Chichen Itza, it was well worth the two-hour bus drive to and from the place. Dad, Gordon, my niece Reiley and I braved the bus and made this amazing journey. Walking around through these ruins that had been there for thousands of years was incredible. The precision these grand structures were built with would be difficult with today’s technology, so 1000 years ago these people were truly ahead of their time. We couldn’t go up the steps of El Castillo, the pyramid like building, but we were able to explore and climb around plenty of other places. I highly recommend going if you ever have the chance.

Me in front of "El Castillo" (the castle)

Snuba:
I’m not certified for scuba, and I always end up swallowing gallons of sea water when I snorkel, so snuba seemed like a perfect combination. Basically, you are connected, via a 20-foot hose with a dive regulator, to two scuba tanks that are floating on the surface above you. It’s very easy, very fun and you can stay underwater as long as you like. Whenever I snorkel I tend to breathe in short rapid breaths. Also, I can never seem to not think about my breathing, so I can’t really relax. With the snuba I was able breathe at a normal pace and forget about being under water. It was very cool.

Me and Macy underwater with a starfish

Xcaret:
Xcaret, which turned out to be a kind of tropical amusement park, was a place we were told would be a fun place to go. With the exception of the underground river, it wasn’t really worth the money.
The underground river is almost a mile long with these ancient Mayan sinkholes in the ceilings that provide light. As we were walking down to the entrance I noticed a sign that said the water’s average temperature is 62 degrees Fahrenheit. That’s only 30 degrees above freezing…and baby, that is some serious cold.

I walked down some step like rocks up to about my knees and I couldn’t go any farther. I turned around, kind of half sat down and jumped back with all my might. At first I couldn’t believe how cold it was, but the current was swift enough that there was no way I could have gone back even if I had wanted to.

Then good news is I was numb in about 30 seconds so the cold was no longer a factor. After that we just drifted underground through these ancient rock formations and had a blast escaping from the day’s 98-degree heat.

The whole family in the underground river.

Cuban Cigars:
On our second stop at Cozumel, Gordon and I went to a cigar shop that our ship had told us would have real Cuban cigars. Gordon got two and I got one for 15 bucks each. My dad bought two boxes of five cigars from some guy on a ferry we rode. The guy originally wanted $80 for one box, but ended up taking $100 for two, plus he threw in one extra cigar. So dad ended up spending about nine dollars apiece for each of his eleven cigars, although we had some serious doubts about the authenticity of his purchase.

Seems Gordon had done some research on Cuban cigars and found that you can tell a fake by the band. After comparing the bands, we’re pretty sure his are fakes. However, I had a chance to smoke both and while you could tell a difference between the two, they were both better than anything I’ve ever gotten in the states. Not that I smoke cigars all that often, so what do I know.

I really had a blast enjoying this kind of adventure with my family. Who knows when we’ll have a chance to do something like this again.

Maybe we'll go again in 50 more years…

What's a Teacher to do?

Sometimes we’re fighting an uphill battle.

Take a look here to see what I mean.

Ever so Sadly Yours,
Third Grade Mind

What's Happening

If you read my brother’s page, Real Live Preacher, which I assume anyone who reads my page does, then you know about our up coming cruise.

While I’ve heard the names of the places we’re going on more than one occasion, like my brother, I haven’t taken the effort necessary to commit them to memory.

For the most part I want to snorkel and catch some rays at a cool beach somewhere. I don’t really care where, so memorizing the names of the places really does me no good.

My goal is to take some notes, be they mental or actually on paper, and come back with some fun stuff to write about.

Unlike my brother, I’m not going to youth camp too, so I may get to write something before he does.

Who I'll Miss

Well, school’s finally over for the year. And it’s been a particularly tiring year. I think it was a combination of my principal retiring, one my grade level team members leaving, and the strange dichotomy that was my class that made this year noticeably more tiring than usual.

Any time a grade level teacher leaves, there is some uncertainty about the next school year. The grade level interviews and labors over not only who the new teacher will be, but also over all the changes that a new personality means. Maybe it’s a head injury thing, but I really hate change.

However, as odd as it may sound, I’m more at peace with the school having a new principal than I am with a new grade level person. Don’t get me wrong, I’m going to miss Mrs. Kilduff, our former principal, more that I can say, but for some reason this is easier for me to get my brain around. You would think that it would be the other way around, but for some reason it’s not for me…who knows?

As for the kids, I’ll miss them, but I’ve had the whole year to think about them moving on, so it’s never the same…at least not until this year.

There’s a boy in my class, we’ll call him Pedro. Pedro is very smart. Pedro is very creative. Pedro has a great sense of humor. Pedro borders on gifted. Pedro is also a little lazy. Pedro is also a little impulsive.

Pedro sat up by me for most of the year, and it was a real love hate relationship. We had more than our fair share of fun times and we had more than our fair share of stern talks as well. I spent a good part of the year dreaming of the day that Pedro would be out of my class. It wasn’t until about a week or two before school was going to be out that I realized why I had such a hard time with Pedro.

You see, the things that describe Pedro, smart, creative, sense of humor, gifted, lazy and impulsive, are the exact same things my fourth grade teacher said about me.

Maybe I understood him better that any teacher he’d ever had. Maybe he understood me better than any student I’d ever had. Maybe, “You are your own worst student,” is really true.

I’m going to miss you Pedro, because you taught me a lot this year.


Pedro, have a great summer!

What did you say?

What I needed to say was…

“Boys, stop bouncing the basketballs.”

What I actually said was…

“Boys, keep your balls in your hands!”



I think you can imagine what happened next.

Block Party

Back in February, Moss Haven, the school where I teach, had its annual auction. Now this is no ordinary public school auction. I’ve been to my fair share of elementary school auctions, and I dare say none make this kind of money.

For starters, it’s held at night at a country club that’s not far from the school. Next, they have both live and silent auctions. Third, it’s parents only. They also hire a professional auctioneer. This guy is fantastic. He knows how to keep people bidding long after they’ve decided to quit. And last, but not least, alcohol is served. A fact that tends to loosen the purse strings on some of the bidders. Anyway, this year’s auction, an event that is actually raising money for next the next school year, cleared around 120,000 dollars.

I realize that many people have no idea how good that is, so allow me to put it in perspective. At my previous school, the last year I was there was a record-breaking auction year for the school. The PTA was absolutely giddy when they found that they had cleared almost $5000.

But this isn’t so much a story about the auction, as it is a story about one of the items that my wife and I purchased at the auction…an invitation to a block party.

There is an L-shaped cul-de-sac near the school that has about 10 –12 houses, most of which have children who either currently do, or recently have attended Moss Haven. Every year the people who live there close off the street and throw a huge party. There’s lots of food, lots of music and lots of people. These people know how to throw a party!

However, it’s by invitation only.

I think pretty much it goes like this: If you live on the street, you’re expected to be there and help with your share of the cost/work. If you live somewhere else, but are invited to attend, then you are also either asked or encouraged to help with both the financial and hard labor aspects of the party. However, if you purchased your invitation at the auction (which were going for 100 buck per couple) then you got to simply attend. They had 10 spots for sale in the silent auction, but ended up selling close to twice that many…with all the money going to Moss Haven.

Last night was the party and it was huge! The rain, which had been popping in and out all day long, stayed away. The nice temperature and the cool breeze made being outside until about 11:30 PM feel really nice.

Last night about 60 of my closest friends and I ate, drank and danced the night away.

I know what I’m buying at next years auction.

TAKS Happenings

As my students sat diligently working on their TAKS exam, I simply sat and spent time watching. I hadn’t been watching very long when I decided to make a list of the different things I saw and post it here.

The Things I saw during the TAKS Test

· Kids working hard
· Pencils being flown around the test paper like a rocket ship.
· A girl whose vacant stare and sheepish grin told me she was miles away having a great time.
· A boy picking his nose, looking around the room to make sure nobody was watching, and then wiping a huge chunk of something under his desk.
· A fairly lengthy finger puppet play…complete with one hand actually talking to the other.
· Frightened eyes
· Several blank stares
· Some quite sneaky attempts at what I can only assume was designed to be some kind of sign language between two girls. Both of whom instantly snapped to attention and got back to work the moment I cleared my throat.

And of course…
· A girl, who the nose picking boy didn’t see watching, looking like she might become violently ill.

Questions I need answered...

How do you tactfully tell a parent that you feel their child needs to be tested for special education?

How do you help a child after you’ve called CPS twice, without any real results?

What do you say to a boy who gleefully announces to the whole class that he eats his boogers, and then proceeds to demonstrate?

What do you say to this same boy’s parents when they ask you why he doesn’t have any friends?

How can a male teacher tell a girl in his class that she needs to start wearing a bra?

How do you help a child care about school if her father died this year and her mother has cancer?

How can you help an overweight child like herself?

Bar Mitzvah

Melissa, Macy and I had an unusual treat yesterday. We got to attend a bar mitzvah ceremony at Temple Emanu-El here in Dallas. Temple Emanu-El is a Reform Jewish community. I won’t pretend to know all the ins and outs of what that means, but suffice it to say, three gentiles felt both very welcomed and very comfortable being there.

This was Nick’s bar mitzvah. We got to know Nick and his family through a twisted web of circumstances. Nick is a friend of Macy’s that she met through the brother of her friend Casey. Casey’s parents have both worked with and been friends with Nick’s family for many years. A couple of years ago, after Casey’s family moved to our street, they started having semi-regular poker parties and it was at these parties that we first met Nick’s family.

Don’t ask me to think through that again!

Back to the bar mitzvah.

I wrote before about an interfaith worship service that Melissa and I attended at Temple Emanu-El here. It was at that service that I first encountered Rabbi David Stern. Rabbi Stern is truly an incredible person. (You can read about him here.) He is very personable, very friendly and very open-minded. Nothing like the picture of Rabbis that was painted in my mind by years of Southern Baptist Sunday school lessons.

What I was able to conclude was that this bar mitzvah was a special Shabbat Shalom service in which Nick, after much training, was able to help lead. Much of the service was in Hebrew, which I do not speak. However, using the prayer book, I was able to either follow along in English, or I could simply listen to and meditate on the Hebrew.

I don’t mind telling you that I found the whole service incredibly worshipful. Enough so, that I’m thinking about going back from time to time just to sit through a Shabbat Shalom service. I may even try to take Gordon next time he’s in Dallas.

Wouldn’t that be a kick!

Hugh-Go Boss

My father-in-law is the manager of two Ebby Haliday offices here in Dallas. One of his offices moved into a new office space just off McKinney Ave. in the Up-Town area of Dallas. The new office is gorgeous and has quickly become Ebby’s new signature office.

A couple of weeks ago they had a grand opening party, and being family, we scored an invitation. I wrote about my father-in-law and his “magnetic” personality here. However, what I possibly failed to mention was the fact that the man can throw a serious party.

All the “movers and shakers,” of Dallas, both young and old, were there…along with me. Now I’ve been known, on occasion to move, and when it gets cold I tend to shake, but baby, this wasn’t my normal crowd.

Melissa and I were excited to go, if for nothing else the people watching. We got a glass of wine, sat back and enjoyed the view. It was really a lot of fun.

We were on our way out the door when we noticed there was a small auction. You buy a ticket for ten bucks and you have the chance to win one of about 15 different things. The money all went to a Dallas area shelter of some sort, and the top item was a Hugo Boss suit. It was a good cause, so I bought two tickets.

We’re driving home when we get the call that I won the 800 dollar, Hugo Boss Suit!

The suit I ended getting is basic black with three-buttons. I picked it up last Saturday, and baby, it is sweeeeet! I’ve only owned a few suits in my life, but up until now the most I’ve paid for a suit has been about $300. My thinking was always, “How different can they be?” However, I must admit…I can feel a difference. Maybe it’s the thread count, maybe it’s the weight of the material, and maybe it’s just the way I feel when I have it on. Whatever the reason, I just can’t wait to wear it.

After much thinking and shopping I ended up getting a white, French cuff shirt, that I can wear with most any tie I have, and a light teal green shirt with a mostly green tie.

I wore it for the first time when I took my wife to the Turtle Creek Mansion for dinner and on our anniversary. We also spent the night there. If you ever have the chance to dine or stay there we both highly recommend it.

If I get a chance I’ll post a picture…we’ll see.

Hey, hey, we're the Monkees!

I need some help…For an end of the year cheer, I’m rewriting the words of the Monkees TV show theme song.

“Hey, hey we’re the Monkees,
People say we monkey around…”

That one…

I realize that none of my students will have any idea what they’re singing, but it’s really more for the parents.

Anyway, what I would like to have is a copy of the music, (mp3 or whatever) with and without the words. That way I could let the class hear the real song, then give them the new words, but still be able to use the music to sing with.

We could do it A cappella, but having the music keeps us from singing it at double, or even triple the intended speed.

I’ve found the mp3 on the web, but I haven’t been able to find it without the words.

The link below is one site where you can download the mp3. If you, or anyone you know has the ability to somehow remove the voices from the song and send it back to me that would be great.

Just send it to: thirdgrademind@kinson.ws

A link is: http://www.mp3raid.com/search/mp3/monkees.html

Thanks, from my whole class…

TAKS Day

It’s here again…testing day. For the third and fifth graders it’s the first of three chances to pass the reading test. For my fourth graders it’s the writing test, but they only get one shot.

For the most part I’m not too worried. I’ve got a few really good writers who could pass this test in their sleep, (but let’s hope they don’t try that) a bunch of kids who can concentrate and do well, and a couple who need some extra prayers.

If you know any TAKS day prayers, say one for my class today.

Many uses for a pencil...

Sometimes in life you witness the most amazing things…and sometimes the bizarre images that are translated through your rods and cones both baffle and disgust you.

Case in point:

When I teach reading there are times when the whole class is doing stuff together, and there are times when I’m reading with a small group and the rest of the students are working independently on reading activities centered around a story or sometimes a couple of stories.

I’m at my half-moon reading table, reading with a group of five students when something causes my focus to shift and I catch a glimpse of Drako.

Drako is holding his pencil and is also quite engrossed in the reading activity he was working on, which is exactly what I like to see in a student. However, it wasn’t Drako’s work habits that caught my attention, it was his pencil.

On his pencil he had one of those colored erasers you buy and stick on the end. I glanced up just in time to watch the whole eraser vanish up his nose. That’s right, UP HIS NOSE!

It jammed up there, twisted two or three times and popped back out. Then it moved over and repeated the whole process, game, nasal-fixation ritual, or whatever you want to call it, and popped back out. After that it moved back to the original nostril and started over. I’d say he hit each side of his nose four to five times, but the whole thing only lasted about 15-20 seconds.

But baby, it felt like an eternity to me.

It was one of those things so startling and so gross that you want desperately to avert your eyes, but for some reason you body won’t let you turn away.

So I’m sitting there, thanking my lucky stars for a high gag reflex tolerance, when he pops the eraser right smack-dab in his mouth.



And you thought pencils were just for writing…shame on you!

What is it?

What is it that convinces a child that he’s safer out on the streets late at night than he would be at home?


Being a teacher I get to see some of the most amazing and wonderful sights. I see miracles every day. It’s mind-boggling to think that these young minds that I’m working with will someday be the adults who are running our world. However, being a teacher I am also forced to witness some of the most depressing and disheartening sights you could ever imagine.

It’s a dichotomy that embraces and warms my soul, while at the same time it rips my heart to tiny shreds and grinds its mangled pieces into the ground.

What is it that keeps me coming back? I love being a small stop on the journey of these young minds. Being allowed to watch these young lives evolve, become mature and take flight is an incredible gift. It’s a gift that I thank God for every day.

But it’s the child for whom school is the only safe place he has that keeps me coming back.

What's new in your school?

What’s new in Texas public schools you ask? Well, you might be surprised.

After all the promises our not so beloved governor made prior reelection, the one thing that has trickled down to the schools is some kind of no competition for school lunches act.

Yes, you read that right!

It seems that we teachers have been doing things that, in the minds of the idiots in Austin, directly compete with the sale of school lunches. Who cares if what we’re doing has any educational value, because that’s not what school’s all about! I mean sure, we want “No Child Left Behind,” but only if we can make a few bucks at the same time.

So here’s what’s taken the ax so far under this wonderful piece of legislation; Our traditional, parent prepared Thanksgiving feast, our end of the six weeks, good behavior pizza parties, the occasional sweet treat reward, (a Hershey Kiss or something similar) the end of school class picnic, parents bringing lunch to school for any child except their own, and basically anything that involves providing something consumable to the students.

You may be wondering how they could get away with this, but our state legislators are a sneaky bunch. It seems they disguised this “get rich quick scheme” as an attempt to try to keep our state’s children healthy. However, when you say you want our children to be eating nutritious meals and then have dozens of different kinds of chips, ice cream and snack cake treats on point of purchase displays right there in the school cafeteria, well that’s just not a push for healthy eating.

The state’s top nutrition experts decided years ago that schools can no longer sell candy to children, because a Snicker’s Bar, for example, has no nutritional value. However, since ice cream has milk, Little Debbie snack cakes have eggs and Nacho Cheese Doritos have corn they fall under the umbrella of what the state of Texas considers to be, healthy foods. Never mind the fact that Blue Bell, Little Debbie and Doritos have most of our states legislators in their back pockets, they contain, milk, eggs and corn…so as far as the state’s concerned, they’re better than freakin’ vitamins!

Combine that with the fact that there are no limits to the number of these items that a child is allowed to buy and you have a sharp contrast the whole idea of healthy eating. I have even seen school cafeteria workers encouraging children to purchase more than one snack item.

So what can we do about this? I don’t really know. Sadly, teachers’ voices are rarely, if ever, listened to in Austin, at least where matters of education are concerned. What I can do is start my own boycott. That’s right, a boycott! It seems to be all about money, and what I can do is not give them any more of mine.

I realize that mine is only one small family…

but change has to start somewhere.

Shabbot Shalom

Last night Melissa and I had the most incredible experience. Our church, Wilshire Baptist Church, was involved in an interfaith worship service at Temple Emanu-El, a Reform Jewish Synagogue here in Dallas.

Their Rabbi and our pastor are friends who get together and discuss all kinds of things. On this occasion, we, the members of Wilshire Baptist Church, came as a group to be a part of the Friday Shabbat Shalom service. Shabbat Shalom is a praise service centered on welcoming the Sabbath.

The service was, as I expected, very liturgical. I was expecting to pray, here some Hebrew and learn a few things. However, what I wasn’t expecting was how worshipful the whole experience would be for me. Sitting there surrounded by people reading, singing and chanting in Hebrew, I found myself trying desperately to mimic the syllables. I didn’t even have any idea what they were saying, but it just seemed like I should do my best to try to be a part of the service.

After the Shabbat Shalom service we moved from the sanctuary to an auditorium where we, the Temple Emanu-El members and the Wilshire Baptist Church members, sat around tables and got to eavesdrop on a conversation our pastor and the rabbi had about the differences and similarities prayer has in our two traditions. There was a short question answer time, and then we all enjoyed meal together.

At my table there were five people from Wilshire and four from Temple Emanu-El, which was exactly the mix this service was designed for. We talked, fellowshipped, asked lots of questions, and learned how much we are alike.

In the end, I think a good time was had by all.

While this is the first interfaith worship service I’ve been a part of, Wilshire and Temple Emanu-El have had several in the past and more planned for the future. Next time it will be at Wilshire, and I can’t wait.

Snow Day!!!

I woke up at 5:00 am, and sleet was falling as I drove to the gym. I got home about 6:00 and couldn’t get back up the driveway because of all the ice. I parked out front, came inside, turned on the TV and waited. Somehow I knew that we wouldn’t have school today. However, it wasn’t until about 6:45 that Richardson ISD made the decision to cancel school.

I’m quite sure you heard us cheering. Well two of us were cheering. Melissa still had to go to work. They don’t close hospitals when it gets icy…go figure?

I’ve spent the day watching TV, playing PS2 and just being lazy.

Cause baby, it’s a snow day!

I felt like a total ass

I’m discussing the progress of my students with another teacher when I start complaining about how often a certain student in my class has been absent this year. She transferred into my class sometime during the second six weeks and has been absent or tardy close to 20 times. Her saving grace is her sweet personality. She’s never a behavior problem, works hard and always does her best.

I must admit that if she were any kind of a behavior problem I would probably have pitched a fit months ago. However, right or wrong, I tend to be a bit more forgiving with students who work with me.

Anyway, this child was absent three days in a row this week, and that’s why I found myself complaining. When she showed back up on Friday I was quick to tell her we missed her, but either didn’t have the time or the desire to inquire about reason for her latest absences. I just assumed she was sick…again. When she showed me that she had done all her spelling and reading homework I smiled big, said “Wow,” and gave her a Good Citizen, (a reward coupon that our school uses). Then we started our day.

It wasn’t until sometime after lunch that she came up and asked if I wanted to know why she had been gone. I slapped on my best concerned face and said, “Sure.”

“My Daddy died.”

I found myself frantically searching for words. Words that never came. Somehow I managed to blurt out something about being sorry and I gave her a hug.

Turns out he’d been sick for quite a while and many days that’s why she had been gone. She had never said anything about her dad being sick, and to tell the truth I’m not sure why she would have.

After school I was in the office when I told the teacher I had been complaining to about what an ass I was for complaining and not first finding out what was going on in this poor child’s life. That’s when I found out that her mother has cancer.

Standing there I felt awful. How can I expect anyone, let alone a child, to make school a priority when her world is being turned upside-down?


Like I said, I felt like a total ass.

Bikinis and Beer

What is it about a girl in a bikini that makes you stop and buy some beer? Who knows?

There’s one of those drive through beer stores in Dallas on Greenville Ave. At first glance, it looks like a small auto repair shop, but the closer you get it’s simply a warehouse that has two large garage doors at each end with two drive-through lanes that go all the way through the building. Coolers line the walls and there’s a casher’s desk stuck right in the middle. You turn in, go around to the back of the building, pull in through one of the lanes, buy your beer and pull back out onto Greenville all without ever getting out of your car.

It’s been there for several years.

Driving by one day this summer I noticed a couple of bikini-clad girls sitting out front under a big umbrella. Contrary to what I’m forced to assume is the owner’s plan, the first thought that popped into my mind wasn’t, “Hey, I need some beer!” but rather, “I wonder what they’ll do if I honk my horn?”

Sadly, mine must not have been the first horn they had heard that day, because I honked twice and they never even moved.

But it left me wondering…

This guy hires these girls to sit out in front of his store to attract business. (Now I don’t mean to be sexist here, but you have to admit it sounds like a guy owns this place) Does he really think that’s going to help drum up customers? Even if it does, how do you measure the cost effectiveness of this kind of marketing?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to have the occasional drive-by bikini sighting, but I just don’t understand the thinking behind this scheme. I’ve never driven by while someone was actually buying beer. Maybe the girls carry the beer to the car, or take the money, or dance, or something.

However, here’s the real quandary. We’re into January and it’s no longer bikini weather, not even here in Texas. I’m driving by yesterday and I see a girl sitting not in a bikini, but jeans with a parka. Not only that, but she was reading a newspaper and once again didn’t look up when I honked.

So what is it about a girl in a bikini that makes you stop and buy some beer?

The world may never know.