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!
Monday, September 03, 2007
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
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.
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.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
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!”
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!”
Saturday, July 28, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
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.
Here I am with my recent purchases.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
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.
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.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
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...
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...
Friday, July 13, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, July 06, 2007
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!
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!
Thursday, July 05, 2007
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.
“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.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
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!
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!
Sunday, June 24, 2007
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.
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.
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.
Friday, June 22, 2007
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.
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.
Monday, June 18, 2007
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.
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.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
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.
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.
Maybe we'll go again in 50 more years…
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.
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.
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.
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…
Friday, June 01, 2007
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
Take a look here to see what I mean.
Ever so Sadly Yours,
Third Grade Mind
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
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.
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.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
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!
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!
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
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.
“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.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, April 20, 2007
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.
· 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.
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.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
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?
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?
Sunday, March 25, 2007
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!
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!
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
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.
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.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
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…
“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…
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
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.
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.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
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!
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!
Saturday, February 03, 2007
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.
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.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
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.
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.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
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’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!
Saturday, January 13, 2007
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.
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.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
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.
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.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Cat-box or Cake??? - You be the judge
Would you eat something out of a cat-box?
Well, I did!
I teach with Marcell, and Marcell is an amazing baker. She loves to bake, is quite good at it, and is all too happy to bring her delicious taste treats to school for her fellow teachers to enjoy.
That being true, you can imagine my surprise when she recently unveiled this in the lounge.
Believe it or not…it tasted incredible!
If you want the receipe I'm sure I can get it.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Better Late Than Never...A Halloween Costume Update
I was reminded by a comment on my last posting that I never came back and told you about our costume. In my defense, I was looking for one of the dozens of people who took our picture in hope of adding it to the post. But alas, it seems all the parents at my school are photography purists and wouldn’t go near a digital camera.
So, I’m forced to report on my costume without the visual aid I had so desperately desired.
We were, drum-roll please…yahtzee!
That’s right, the five of us painted boxes while, attached black circles, cut holes for our heads and tumbled through the halls. We’d stop at various points along the way and scream, “YAHTZEE!” at the top of our lungs.
We were a gigantic hit! Many of my student’s extremely impartial parents told me later that ours was the best teacher costume by far.
But just you wait until next year, we’re really going to blow them away!
So, I’m forced to report on my costume without the visual aid I had so desperately desired.
We were, drum-roll please…yahtzee!
That’s right, the five of us painted boxes while, attached black circles, cut holes for our heads and tumbled through the halls. We’d stop at various points along the way and scream, “YAHTZEE!” at the top of our lungs.
We were a gigantic hit! Many of my student’s extremely impartial parents told me later that ours was the best teacher costume by far.
But just you wait until next year, we’re really going to blow them away!
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Monty Python and the Holy...Ale???
So there I am walking through the Market Street grocery store in McKinney Texas, when I happen onto the beer isle. Deciding that I need a beer, I begin perusing the various brands available. That’s when my keen beer senses told me that this was no ordinary beer isle.
Oh sure, they had Bud, Coors and Miller. However, this store was the haven for every bizarre type of ale known to man. They had literally hundreds of different kinds of ale. I mean everything from Hobgoblin Ale to Pumpkin Spice Ale. It was truly extraordinary.
I’m at one end trying to decided between Hobgoblin Ale and something written in what I think was German, but had a really cool label when Melissa come walking up with a bottle of Monty Python’s Holy Grail Ale.
And the choice was made.
It only comes in pint bottles. A fact that has always seemed a bit odd to me, England being on the metric system and all. I got home, popped it open and enjoyed the whole pint.
If you like dark ale, I recommend giving Monty Python’s Holy Grail Ale a try.
Note:
Don't worry big brother, I’ve got one for you in the fridge and I’m brining it to Georgetown!
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Leap-Frog Thinking
It’s funny how the mind works. I’m more than a little curious about where thoughts and memories come from. I have a progressive kind of thought “leap-frog” thing that at times can be quite fun, but is usually a bit annoying. Here’s how it works.
It begins with me reading or hearing something that starts my mind wondering about some odd detail from whatever it is that I’ve just read or heard. Next, the natural progression of my wonderings causes something different, but closely connected to the original thing I was first wondering about, to come to mind and I’ll start thinking about that. I’ll stay focused on whatever this happens to be until my mind takes its next “leap-frog” thing.
So goes the mental processing of a self-diagnosed, borderline ADD person. I’m forever finding myself staring thoughtfully at whatever person happens to be speaking with my mind having moved progressively through dozens of different topics. Top that off with the fact that I’m usually more that a little confused about how I started thinking about whatever it is that I am now think of, and you have an extremely perplexing quandary.
I recently had one of these “leap-frog” episodes in church. It went something like this:
The pastor was preaching, and I was listening. I don’t know if he said “peppermints,” or if something he happened to mention caused me to think of peppermints. Whatever the reason, I found myself thinking of peppermints. Peppermints caused me to think of a time I had my class use paper plates to make peppermints to decorate for a holiday program. Then I remembered a boy who wanted to make Mentos instead of the red and white kind, because in his words, “I like Mentos better than the other kind.” I started wondering which kind I like better. That made me think of how when I was a volunteer at Memorial City Hospital in Houston and I would always get two packages of Mentos in the cafeteria and eat them the whole time I was at the hospital. Thinking about being a hospital volunteer caused me to remember Doug Persons, possibly my first best friend in Houston. Then I thought about the time Doug Persons and I made copies of our faces on the hospital’s copier.
I was engrossed in my twisted web of thought when something yanked me back to reality. I somehow managed to backtrack through my mind’s bizarre train of thought and find the logical progression that had brought me to my current wonderings.
Like I said, it’s funny how the mind works…at least mine.
It begins with me reading or hearing something that starts my mind wondering about some odd detail from whatever it is that I’ve just read or heard. Next, the natural progression of my wonderings causes something different, but closely connected to the original thing I was first wondering about, to come to mind and I’ll start thinking about that. I’ll stay focused on whatever this happens to be until my mind takes its next “leap-frog” thing.
So goes the mental processing of a self-diagnosed, borderline ADD person. I’m forever finding myself staring thoughtfully at whatever person happens to be speaking with my mind having moved progressively through dozens of different topics. Top that off with the fact that I’m usually more that a little confused about how I started thinking about whatever it is that I am now think of, and you have an extremely perplexing quandary.
I recently had one of these “leap-frog” episodes in church. It went something like this:
The pastor was preaching, and I was listening. I don’t know if he said “peppermints,” or if something he happened to mention caused me to think of peppermints. Whatever the reason, I found myself thinking of peppermints. Peppermints caused me to think of a time I had my class use paper plates to make peppermints to decorate for a holiday program. Then I remembered a boy who wanted to make Mentos instead of the red and white kind, because in his words, “I like Mentos better than the other kind.” I started wondering which kind I like better. That made me think of how when I was a volunteer at Memorial City Hospital in Houston and I would always get two packages of Mentos in the cafeteria and eat them the whole time I was at the hospital. Thinking about being a hospital volunteer caused me to remember Doug Persons, possibly my first best friend in Houston. Then I thought about the time Doug Persons and I made copies of our faces on the hospital’s copier.
I was engrossed in my twisted web of thought when something yanked me back to reality. I somehow managed to backtrack through my mind’s bizarre train of thought and find the logical progression that had brought me to my current wonderings.
Like I said, it’s funny how the mind works…at least mine.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Being Scared
I’ve never really been scared before. Sure, I’ve been on the edge of my seat during the scary part of movie. I’ve also had the poop scared out of me while driving on Central Expressway here in Dallas. However, it wasn’t until I got the news of my dad’s cancer that I understood what being scared really is.
At the beginning I kept thinking that I was going to wake up from this really bad dream and everything would be okay. When that didn’t happen, I started believing my dad’s doctors would figure out that they had made a mistake. When that didn’t happen, I started thinking that some smart doctor would show up and he would have the cure. When that didn’t happen, I thought the doctors were going to figure out a way he could easily live with medullary thyroid cancer. When that didn’t happen, I took my dark suit to the cleaners.
I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster for the better part of a month and right now I’m feeling pretty good. The good news is, doesn’t look like I’m going to need that dark suit anytime in the near future. Dad’s surgery went as well as the doctors could have hoped for, but I find that after the wild ride’s ups and downs of the last few weeks, I haven’t been able to let go of the bar and stop holding my breath…not just yet.
Thank you to everyone who prayed for my dad and my family. There is no doubt in my mind that the prayers (and there were a lot of them) made all the difference.
I’ll keep you posted.
Hugh
At the beginning I kept thinking that I was going to wake up from this really bad dream and everything would be okay. When that didn’t happen, I started believing my dad’s doctors would figure out that they had made a mistake. When that didn’t happen, I started thinking that some smart doctor would show up and he would have the cure. When that didn’t happen, I thought the doctors were going to figure out a way he could easily live with medullary thyroid cancer. When that didn’t happen, I took my dark suit to the cleaners.
I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster for the better part of a month and right now I’m feeling pretty good. The good news is, doesn’t look like I’m going to need that dark suit anytime in the near future. Dad’s surgery went as well as the doctors could have hoped for, but I find that after the wild ride’s ups and downs of the last few weeks, I haven’t been able to let go of the bar and stop holding my breath…not just yet.
Thank you to everyone who prayed for my dad and my family. There is no doubt in my mind that the prayers (and there were a lot of them) made all the difference.
I’ll keep you posted.
Hugh
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Moon Pies and Me
Have you ever seen a Moon Pie? Growing up I’d see them at Otto’s, the little independently owned convenient store near our house in Houston. Otto’s happened to be right behind Shadow Oaks Elementary and, luckily for me, right on my way home. Each day I’d scrape together enough change to stop on the way home and buy a Coke, or ice cream, or candy, or something.
You couldn’t miss the Moon Pies. They occupied a prime “point-of-purchase” location all along the checkout waiting line. They came in brown, white, yellow and even pink. There were always dozens of them stacked up in lines on the three shelves that stretched the length of the counter and as far as I knew, nobody ever bought one.
Occasionally, my friends and I would discuss these strange looking cookie creations as we waited in line. These conversations would go something like this:
“Have you ever had one of those?”
“No, but I think my dad has.”
“Are the brown ones chocolate?”
“Maybe, but what are the pink ones?”
“Beats me. Get one and let’s try it!”
“I’ve only got enough money for one thing, I’m not going to waste it on one of those.”
And so went my years at Shadow Oaks Elementary. To Moon Pie, or not to Moon Pie? – That was the question.
I never did try a Moon Pie. As a matter of fact, that was over 30 years ago and I have never so much as sniffed the wrapper of a Moon Pie…that is until last night.
I’m not sure what sparked my Moon Pie memory, but for some reason I was prompted to bring them up with Melissa. I don’t even remember what was said, but I’m sure it sounded something like this:
“Have you ever had one of those?”
“No, but I think my dad has.”
“Are the brown ones chocolate?”
“Maybe, but what are the pink ones?”
“Beats me. Get one and let’s try it!”
That was several weeks ago at best. Like I said, I don’t really even remember having the conversation. However, Melissa was at a conference in Nashville, Tennessee. As it turns out, Tennessee is where Moon Pies are made. So, being the dutiful and supportive wife that she is, Melissa decided to buy me not one, but two Moon Pies, which she proudly gave to me at baggage claim A16 at DFW Airport. This was to be the historic location of my first Moon Pie experience.
Being a Moon Pie virgin, I inspected the outside of the package. The first thing I noticed was the slogan, “The Only One on The Planet!” As I’m pondering the whys and wherefores of that statement I see where it says “The Original Marshmallow Sandwich.” Standing there gazing down at this chocolate covered creation I noticed where it says, in big letters, “Double Decker – Big Snack, Great Value.”
Baby, I was hooked!
Then I noticed the date. This was October 13, 2006, so I was cautiously optimistic when I noticed that my new Moon Pie buddies were set to expire on January 8, 2007. I really had no way of knowing how long these bad-boys had been on the shelf. Based on the ones I remembered from my Otto’s days, it could have been sitting there for a couple of years before Melissa bought it. However, I didn’t let that deter me from my date with my Moon Pie destiny.
These two pies had been stuck in Melissa’s purse for several hours, so they were pretty smashed. But you would have thought it was Christmas morning the way I tore into this thing! Remember, these were Double Decker Moon Pies and being stuck at the bottom of a purse for over half a day had not done them any good. However, I was determined to not only taste my first Moon Pie, but eat the whole thing!
Thanks to the purse, the chocolate flavored outer layer was now mostly stuck to the wrapper, so holding the bottom half of the sandwich through the wrapper, I tried to break part of it off, but the gooey marshmallow center was not breaking easily. That’s when I decided to just take the big plunge.
Throwing caution to the wind, I clamped my mouth down on my first Moon Pie.
I must admit that the experience was nothing at all like I expected it to be. I really thought that the cookie part of the Original Marshmallow Sandwich would be crisper, something like a Oreo, but I was sadly mistaken. It was more like a stale graham cracker that had been soaked in liquid and allowed to sit out for a few days.
The marshmallow part was very spongy, and never really seemed to break down as I chewed. It was a lot like chewing a piece of gum and eating a saltine cracker at the same time. (A stunt I’ll never do again…but that’s another story)
So there I am, standing at baggage claim A16 enjoying, or at least eating, my first Moon Pie. That’s when Melissa pointed to the ground. What I had either failed to notice, or had chosen to ignore, was the fact that my new taste treat was quite crumbly. At my feet was a rather large pile of chocolate covered, graham cracker looking pieces. The mess was so large that my now embarrassed wife and daughter walked away and pretended not to know me. A little game they sometimes feel they’re forced to play when we’re out in public.
Trying in vane to kick my ever growing pile of Moon Pie droppings under the edge of the baggage carousel, I looked up to a find somewhat snooty man looking at me with a kind of disgusted frown on his face. Without missing a beat I boldly thrust my half eaten snack up toward him and announced in a loud and somewhat gleeful voice, “MOON PIE!” He grabbed his stuff and moved to the opposite end of the carousel.
At this point Melissa rushed back over. Wiping crumbs off my face and shirt she whispered, “Hugh, I know people here, please don’t embarrass me!”
So there you have it. My first Moon Pie experience.
I somehow managed to choke down the whole thing. To tell the truth, after the first two or three bites, it got a bit easier to eat. I’m not sure why. After living on this planet for almost 42 years I’ve finally eaten my first Moon Pie, and not unlike swallowing a piece of chewing gum, I’m sure this first pie will be out of my system in about seven years.
Maybe by then I’ll be ready to eat the second one.
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Family Crisis
We, my family and I, are in the middle of somewhat of a family crisis. It's not something that we won’t make it through, but it is something that we’d rather not be dealing with. We have many, many questions and to date, not as many answers as we would like.
Suffice it to say the crisis involves an illness and like my brother, RLP, I’ll probably write more about it later.
For now, if you pray, please put my family in your prayers.
Thank you,
Hugh
Suffice it to say the crisis involves an illness and like my brother, RLP, I’ll probably write more about it later.
For now, if you pray, please put my family in your prayers.
Thank you,
Hugh
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Monday, September 25, 2006
9/25/2006 - An Update...
It looks like we’ve decided on our costume ideas for the costume parade. Now it’s quite possible that couple of the teachers at my school actually read my blog from time to time. (Nobody actually admits they do, but it’s the only explanation for some of the giggling and sideways looks I get) Due to that fact, I’m not going to give our costume away just yet. Rest assure it is a wee-bit strange. You’ll just have to check back sometime after Halloween to see the pictures.
Remember back when you were in school and you had those things called Teacher-in-Service days, but all you knew was that it meant you didn’t have school? And remember how much fun they were, especially when you didn’t know anything about them until the day before? And remember how you always wondered what the teachers could possibly do up at school if you weren’t there?
As nice, and as much needed, as a break like that is for the students, it ain’t all that bad for the teachers either. Today was an In-Service day in my district.
We sit in some classes listening to some good speakers and some not so good speakers. If you’re ever asked to speak to a group of teachers, say, “No,” quickly and firmly and run for your life! Teachers make the worst students. We doodle, we talk, we pass notes, we make all kinds of faces, we interrupt the speaker with all kinds of off-the-topic comments and some of us even fall asleep. Not me...this time.
I’m not ashamed to admit that the highlight of everyone’s day is lunch. You see, on the average, we usually get somewhere between 20 to 25 minutes to inhale our cold sandwich or microwave burned Leal Cuisine.
But our district, in an attempt to compensate us for our speed eating induced acid reflux, allows us an hour and a half for lunch on In-Service days…that 90 minutes to you and me!
I must admit that we all enjoy the chance to have lunch with adults and not have to hear about how little Johnny stole Billy’s last tator-tot, or how Billy poured milk on Johnny’s hamburger to pay him back, but got some on Martha’s new dress by mistake and now she’s going to get in trouble.
As wacky and strange as all this sounds…I’m looking forward to school tomorrow.
Remember back when you were in school and you had those things called Teacher-in-Service days, but all you knew was that it meant you didn’t have school? And remember how much fun they were, especially when you didn’t know anything about them until the day before? And remember how you always wondered what the teachers could possibly do up at school if you weren’t there?
As nice, and as much needed, as a break like that is for the students, it ain’t all that bad for the teachers either. Today was an In-Service day in my district.
We sit in some classes listening to some good speakers and some not so good speakers. If you’re ever asked to speak to a group of teachers, say, “No,” quickly and firmly and run for your life! Teachers make the worst students. We doodle, we talk, we pass notes, we make all kinds of faces, we interrupt the speaker with all kinds of off-the-topic comments and some of us even fall asleep. Not me...this time.
I’m not ashamed to admit that the highlight of everyone’s day is lunch. You see, on the average, we usually get somewhere between 20 to 25 minutes to inhale our cold sandwich or microwave burned Leal Cuisine.
But our district, in an attempt to compensate us for our speed eating induced acid reflux, allows us an hour and a half for lunch on In-Service days…that 90 minutes to you and me!
I must admit that we all enjoy the chance to have lunch with adults and not have to hear about how little Johnny stole Billy’s last tator-tot, or how Billy poured milk on Johnny’s hamburger to pay him back, but got some on Martha’s new dress by mistake and now she’s going to get in trouble.
As wacky and strange as all this sounds…I’m looking forward to school tomorrow.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Just Me...
I’m finding it harder than ever this year to be motivated to sit down and write, and I don’t know why. I like to write. When I’m writing hours pass by like minutes. It’s a grand experience.
But I don’t know what it is that causes my writing to slow down. Maybe it’s school and all the beginning of the year headaches. Maybe it’s just life and normal everyday pressures. Maybe it’s age. Who knows?
What I do know is that I miss writing, but just can’t seem to get myself started. I have several things I want to write about and I’ll do my best to get around to them at some point.
But today I have a question and I need your help.
At my school we have a Halloween parade every year that is a pretty big deal. I mean the hallways are filled with parents and grandparents holding cameras and cheering. All the students walk through the halls and classrooms showing off their costumes. Not only do all the students dress-up, but the teachers as well. The kids, for the most part, all wear the usual store bought costumes. However, the teachers are always the ones to watch. Each grade level tries to outdo not only the other grade levels, but also themselves from the previous year.
That being said, there are five teachers on my grade level and we could really use a great costume idea. There are four ladies plus myself, although gender really isn’t a factor for the costume. I would wear a dress for the team if I needed to. Remember, this is a public elementary school, so any costume idea would have to be appropriate for our younger viewers.
We had the idea of being a hand, but we haven’t come up with an easy way to pull it off.
Whatever we end up being, I’ll get some photos and post them here…should be good for a few laughs.
Got any good costume ideas?
But I don’t know what it is that causes my writing to slow down. Maybe it’s school and all the beginning of the year headaches. Maybe it’s just life and normal everyday pressures. Maybe it’s age. Who knows?
What I do know is that I miss writing, but just can’t seem to get myself started. I have several things I want to write about and I’ll do my best to get around to them at some point.
But today I have a question and I need your help.
At my school we have a Halloween parade every year that is a pretty big deal. I mean the hallways are filled with parents and grandparents holding cameras and cheering. All the students walk through the halls and classrooms showing off their costumes. Not only do all the students dress-up, but the teachers as well. The kids, for the most part, all wear the usual store bought costumes. However, the teachers are always the ones to watch. Each grade level tries to outdo not only the other grade levels, but also themselves from the previous year.
That being said, there are five teachers on my grade level and we could really use a great costume idea. There are four ladies plus myself, although gender really isn’t a factor for the costume. I would wear a dress for the team if I needed to. Remember, this is a public elementary school, so any costume idea would have to be appropriate for our younger viewers.
We had the idea of being a hand, but we haven’t come up with an easy way to pull it off.
Whatever we end up being, I’ll get some photos and post them here…should be good for a few laughs.
Got any good costume ideas?
Saturday, August 19, 2006
We Don't See That Anymore...
We don’t see that anymore, is a phrase I’ve heard two times in the past couple of weeks.
The first time was when I stopped to help a woman in her 80’s put some heavy items into her car at Office Depot. She and her driver, a woman of similar age, were both flabbergasted when from out of the blue a man stopped and helped them load these heavy items into their car. Top that off with the fact that I then opened the car door for the lady and you have dinner conversation at the retirement center for the next month. As I was replying to the thanks I was receiving with, “You’re welcome, it’s my pleasure” and closing the door, the first lady turned to the driver and said, “You don’t see that anymore!”
About a week later, I was at the grocery store when a woman, maybe in her 30’s, dropped her shopping list on the floor. I happened to be walking by as it fell, so I bent down and picked it up for her. It wasn’t even all that big of a deal. All I did was take about 2.5 seconds out of my day to do something for someone else, but that’s when she said it. “You don’t see that anymore!”
It wasn’t until I heard the second woman utter the phrase that I was struck with the thought…why not?
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not the polished gentleman. I tend to put my elbows on the table, eat a bit too fast, and on occasion I’ve been known to laugh at, and yes even make, slightly inappropriate comments. (I stress slightly, because my mom does read this from time to time)
However, when it comes to simply being courteous, I take pride in the fact that I always open doors, both building and car, for my wife or whatever woman I happen to be around. When we're eating, I also do my best to stand when a lady comes to, or gets up from, the table. I don’t always remember, but at least I’m trying.
I am always surprised at and a little disheartened by the number of women for whom this kind of behavior is so out of the ordinary. When and how did simply being a courteous gentleman become a lost art?
There was the time that I was leaving Dillard’s and I held the door for a very tough looking woman who was about to enter through the same door that I was exiting. (A gesture I would do for anyone, man or woman) Flicking her cigarette butt to the sidewalk she said, in a not so pleasant tone, “I can get that myself you know!”
To which I replied, in the very same overly happy tone I used the first time my daughter made poopy in the big potty, “Well, aren’t we a big boy today.”
An angry scowl and a protruding middle finger were my only reward for my quick tongue.
Putting this angry masculine woman aside, I believe that women enjoy being indulged with these small, everyday courtesies. And to tell the truth, it’s just not that hard to do.
So why is it such a lost art?
Gone are the days when door handles were akin to outdoor grills and lawn mowers. Both of which, I’m proud to say, my wife has never had any reason to learn how to use!
As men we should be taking back the door handles! They were our domain, but time and possibly apathy have turned them into common property.
If you’re a man, and I mean a real man, I challenge you to get out there and open some doors and let the ladies go first!
If you do, and it becomes a habit, maybe it will be the end of comments like, “We don’t see that anymore…”
The first time was when I stopped to help a woman in her 80’s put some heavy items into her car at Office Depot. She and her driver, a woman of similar age, were both flabbergasted when from out of the blue a man stopped and helped them load these heavy items into their car. Top that off with the fact that I then opened the car door for the lady and you have dinner conversation at the retirement center for the next month. As I was replying to the thanks I was receiving with, “You’re welcome, it’s my pleasure” and closing the door, the first lady turned to the driver and said, “You don’t see that anymore!”
About a week later, I was at the grocery store when a woman, maybe in her 30’s, dropped her shopping list on the floor. I happened to be walking by as it fell, so I bent down and picked it up for her. It wasn’t even all that big of a deal. All I did was take about 2.5 seconds out of my day to do something for someone else, but that’s when she said it. “You don’t see that anymore!”
It wasn’t until I heard the second woman utter the phrase that I was struck with the thought…why not?
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not the polished gentleman. I tend to put my elbows on the table, eat a bit too fast, and on occasion I’ve been known to laugh at, and yes even make, slightly inappropriate comments. (I stress slightly, because my mom does read this from time to time)
However, when it comes to simply being courteous, I take pride in the fact that I always open doors, both building and car, for my wife or whatever woman I happen to be around. When we're eating, I also do my best to stand when a lady comes to, or gets up from, the table. I don’t always remember, but at least I’m trying.
I am always surprised at and a little disheartened by the number of women for whom this kind of behavior is so out of the ordinary. When and how did simply being a courteous gentleman become a lost art?
There was the time that I was leaving Dillard’s and I held the door for a very tough looking woman who was about to enter through the same door that I was exiting. (A gesture I would do for anyone, man or woman) Flicking her cigarette butt to the sidewalk she said, in a not so pleasant tone, “I can get that myself you know!”
To which I replied, in the very same overly happy tone I used the first time my daughter made poopy in the big potty, “Well, aren’t we a big boy today.”
An angry scowl and a protruding middle finger were my only reward for my quick tongue.
Putting this angry masculine woman aside, I believe that women enjoy being indulged with these small, everyday courtesies. And to tell the truth, it’s just not that hard to do.
So why is it such a lost art?
Gone are the days when door handles were akin to outdoor grills and lawn mowers. Both of which, I’m proud to say, my wife has never had any reason to learn how to use!
As men we should be taking back the door handles! They were our domain, but time and possibly apathy have turned them into common property.
If you’re a man, and I mean a real man, I challenge you to get out there and open some doors and let the ladies go first!
If you do, and it becomes a habit, maybe it will be the end of comments like, “We don’t see that anymore…”
Sunday, August 13, 2006
My Governor is a Jewish Cowboy! If only...
If you’re not from Texas then this isn’t going to mean much to you. However, if you happen to live in Texas and are 18 or older, then you need to be thinking about who it is that you want for your next Governor.
I really can’t sit down and argue politics with the big boys. It’s not only that I can’t, it’s also that I just don’t have the desire. I guess that dumps me into the pot with all the other apathetic Americans, but I can say that I do vote in every election. The fact that my place of employment is the same place I go to vote, makes it a bit easier for me than it may be for the majority of the American public.
When I started blogging back in 2004, I never thought that I would write about anything even remotely political. I thought about, but quickly decided that I wanted this to be fun and that writing of that kind would take way too much effort. So, I’ve avoided writing about anything even remotely political. To tell the truth, it wasn’t all that hard. If you don’t know anything about something, then it’s pretty easy not to talk about it. You may have also noticed that I haven’t written much of anything about how hard it is to do surgery…and that’s for the same reason.
However, I do know enough to say that Rick Perry is not doing anything to help Texas’ education system. I know that Governors have no real power and therefore can’t really change things, but they can work to hard to steer things in the direction that they want things to go. We’ve seen Governor Perry get things done, just not for education. I mean it took him two years with extended special sessions to finally pass an education reform bill kind of thing, but it really didn’t help.
So, if you call Texas you home and you believe that education is important, then I urge you to vote. I’m voting for Kinky Freidman and I hope that one day I will be able to say, “My Governor is a Jewish Cowboy!” (Click here to find out more about Kinky)
However, even if you’re not going to vote for Kinky…at least get out there and vote.
Just not for Rick Perry!
This advertisement was paid for by the “Hugh Atkinson is tired of Rick Perry” fund and is not associated with any of Kinky Friedman’s actual campaigns.
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