I give up...or do I?

Back when gas was only about two dollars a gallon I enjoyed a large vanilla latte from Starbucks pretty much everyday.  It cost me about four dollars per latte, or twenty-eight dollars a week, but I didn’t mind.  However, as the prices at the gas pump started to skyrocket I, like most Americans, started looking for places I could cut back.  You know, things I could give up.  

When I realized that I was grumbling about spending right at $4.00 dollars for a gallon of gas, but then would happily pop into Starbucks and spend $4.17 for a 20-ounce latte (which works out to $26.69 a gallon!) I knew I had to give up my daily Starbucks fix. 

Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t totally given up my venti, vanilla latte, but I have gone from enjoying one a day to only having one or two a month.  

Now what I do for my caffeine fix is either make it at home, or go to Exxon where a 20-ounce coffee is only about one dollar.  

This morning, I was standing in line at Exxon waiting to pay a dollar for my Bengal Traders Gourmet Coffee when I became nosey and started paying attention to the guy in front of me.  

It seems he only had ten dollars and wanted a snack, some cigarettes and some gas.  

After finding out that if he purchased both the snack and the cigarettes he wouldn’t even be able to buy a single gallon of gas he started trying to decide what to put back. 

Now, the choice seemed obvious to me and I desperately wanted to step forward and offer this poor man some of my newfound “latte give up” wisdom.  I didn’t, but the teacher in me was chomping at the bit.   

If he had given up the cigarettes, at five dollars a pack…that’s 1.25 gallons of gas.  That means he would have been able to buy his snack plus two a little over two gallons of gas.  

As it turns out, he slid the snack across the counter and purchased the cigarettes plus about $4.50 in gas.  

What really got me was the fact that this guy wasn't millions of miles away in some poor third-world country.  No, this was a guy living right here in Dallas and he was having to make financial choices that to me seemed rather trivial.  

That’s when I realized that things aren’t bad for me and I really don't have a clue what the rising means to most people.  Sure, I had to stop buying an expensive latte each day, but did I really?  

Truth be told I didn’t have to, I chose to.  Why did I choose to?  I think I decided to give them up because it makes me feel like I was being financially responsible, or something like that.  

As I walked out to my car with my coffee, I topped off my gas tank and looked over to see that I had just added $69.66 worth of gas to my mornings purchase.  And I felt a little strange.  

When it’s all said and done, do I complain about the price of gas?  I don’t go out of my way to, but when the topic of conversation rolls around, and it always seems to these days, I’m quick to report on the gallon price of a Starbucks latte and then mention how I gave them up to save some cash. 

I think I'm becoming a democrat right before your eyes.

Does size really matter?

Evidently it does when you’re talking about your Internet connection.  At least it does when you’re talking about the size of the cables that bring, or take, or carry, or transfer, or magically cause words and pictures to appear from the information super highway.  

Please understand that my knowledge of this kind of thing is minimal at best.  Truth be known, as long as it’s up and running properly, I don’t really care how or why it works…just so long as it works! 

When I had but one computer hard wired into my modem, life was good.  Life was easy.  However, about a year ago I introduced a router and a wireless laptop to the mix and life has never been the same.  

First the modem and the router wouldn’t talk to each other.  Next, the router and the wireless laptop were both talking, but one was speaking English and the other Chinese.  Then the modem slowed the router down, or the router slowed the modem down.  After spending several hours on the phone with the not so helpful help desk people I finally got everything up and running well...so I thought.  

To date I have no less than five different wireless devices all on what I’m forced to call “My Network” and speed is the new issue.  I have DSL, which has always been great.  Yesterday, when I was at the apple store trying to get some help with my speed problems I learned that DSL is lumped into the same category as dial-up, and the cable Internet is all the rage.  

Here’s how the conversation went:

            apple guy:  What kind of connection do you have? 

            Me:  DSL 

            apple guy:  (making an ugly face) Ugh!  Well there’s your                  trouble right there. 

            Me:  DSL isn’t good? 

apple guy:  Well, maybe years ago, but a phone line is just too small.  (Holding up his hands with his fingers making a circle about the size of a softball he said) You need a bigger cable. 

Me:  AT&T calls it Broadband and… 

apple guy: That’s a lie!  They say that, but it’s just a lie!  You can’t have broadband through a wire the size of a phone cord! 

I realized that I had hit a rather tender topic with this poor guy, so I said thanks and slowly backed away.  

The truth is, this may have been reality for years, but I just turned a deaf ear to the whole thing, because my little world was working just fine.  

So now I’m on the hunt for the biggest Internet connection available in my area, because it seems that size really does matter.

Shopping Delimma

I was at the grocery store a couple of days ago.  I had my cart with my milk, my bread, my peaches, my usual stuff.  I was standing on the ice cream aisle trying to find the Blue Bell Natural Bean Vanilla, not the Homemade Vanilla.  I mean, the choice between Homemade and Natural Bean is a no brainer!  

I’m standing there grumbling to myself about how they always have a thousand rows of Homemade, but then they’ll have only two or three containers of Natural Bean when I heard this conversation: 

Woman:  “Blue Bell is his favorite and it’s his birthday.” 

Man:  “But it’s twice as much as this kind.  If we get Blue Bell we’ll have to put the juice boxes back.” 

Glancing into their cart I saw three items, one of which was a small package of six to eight generic brand juice boxes that might have cost $3.00 and my heart sank.  

Without looking up, I quickly grabbed my ice cream and rushed to checkout.  

I felt bad, but I’m not sure why.  

Did I feel bad for listening in on such a personal discussion?  Or did I feel guilty for having more?  Maybe I felt guilty for not offering to help.  

Whatever the reason, I felt badly for this young couple.  

I’ve never had those kinds of money issues.  I know everyone has those kinds of money issues, but mine have never been at that level.  I’ve never had to choose between ice cream and juice boxes for my child’s birthday party. 

I did some research, and while my annual income is not even close to the top incomes in Dallas, it’s also nowhere near the poverty level.  After my quick research I was a bit ashamed for wanting a larger salary.  

After all is said and done, I’m not sure what all this says about me.  

Maybe it says I’m rich.  Maybe it says I’m spoiled.  Maybe it says I’m blind to financial situation that the bulk of the world is in.  

I don’t know…I guess I’ve got something to think about.   

  

New iMac

Yesterday, I went to Northpark Mall and got my first iMac…and so far it is amazing!   

There are things to learn.  Lots of things to learn!   However, I’m having a blast learning them.  

What really chaps my buns is the fact that my daughter is already a pro at most everything...just one more sign that I'm getting old!  But the jokes on her;  I'm going to have a whole month to play and get really good while she's at camp.  Then I'll be iMac'in rings around her!

I had a PC with 256MB processor a 100GB hard drive and a second hard drive with 80GB.  It had 2 CD’s, but only one could burn.  It did have a really nice 13-inch flat screen monitor.  However, with the limits placed on me by how outdated my computer was, I really couldn’t make the best of the monitor.  It was kind of like having $1000 worth of wheels on $50 car.  I don't care how nice the wheels are, that car just ain't gonna run smooth.  

When Gordon, that’s Real Live Preacher to you, built it for me a few years ago, it was at the top of its game.  If you actually know Gordon I’m sure you’re saying, “Gordon built something?  Like, used tools and put something together?  Do you mean Gordon Atkinson?”  

Well, you couldn’t be any more surprised than I was when he offered, but he did a good job and it has served me well for several years. 

My new iMac has a 2.66GHz processor, 320GB hard drive and a 20-inch widescreen display.  At first, I got a little bit dizzy.  I mean I wasn’t used to this kind of speed.  I didn’t even know that things could go this fast!   

So I’ve got the next two months off…at least from school.  I’ve got several at home projects that I’ve been putting off that I need to take care of.  However, the bulk of my summer will be me learning how to use my new iMac.  

I’ll keep you posted

3 Days Left...a little late!

I find it increasingly harder to find,
A way to leave all of my school crap behind

You’d think that at this point it would be rather simple,
Like telling your brother he’s got a huge pimple

Now Hugh, that’s just gross, I can you each say,
But you like my poems edgy, so I keep them that way

Don’t forget that today is our dancing debut,
So come shake your buns as the kids shout, “YOO-HOO!”

And just try to keep up with our dear friend Ms. Jackie,
Please don’t copy her moves, they can get pretty tacky

Now back to your brother, the one with the zit,
Cause it’s fun to just smile, and then tease him a bit

And you have a good time, poking fun at his nose,
But then the fun starts to get old...I suppose

That’s just how it is, this time of year,
You know what to do, but you can’t get in gear

It could be because your thoughts are all hazy,
But it’s probably because you’re just being lazy

Don’t get all upset, and start throwing a fit,
Come dance at the show, and you’ll be a huge hit

Keep moving along, with your mind worry free,
Go have a great weekend, your days left are three

4 Days Left

I find it somehow hard to see
A day that’s sure to come
When kids no longer grace our halls
And my mind’s no longer numb

They’re funny, but they’re also hard
These truths our minds conceive
Sometimes we each get truly sad
When students finally leave

NO! That was just a giant joke
You’ll soon have tears of joy
We’ll hug, and wave and gently kick
Each small rump out the door

Today can be a happy day
If we decide it will
Just grab your giant happy drink
And take your happy pill

And once you have a happy grin
Then dance and skip around
And show all of your students
This new joy that you have found

Of course they’ll think your crazy
But they think that anyway
So why not make the best of it
And have some fun today

No matter how your day turns out
Go dance until you’re sore
There’s one thing that I know is true
Our days left are just four

5 Days Left

If you’re counting our days
Then you're down to one hand
And I know that’s some math
We can all understand

So stretch out your fingers
And look at each one
Then imagine a day
You can lie in the sun

Your feet are propped up
With your sunglasses on
You look over and find
That your drink’s almost gone

You raise those same fingers
And order one more
It’s not time to stop
Cause you’ve only had four

You’ll think back to the days
When you hadn’t a clue
Of the very high toll
End of year has for you

There are kids who are hyper
And dull chores you must do
Like that huge Check-off list
From Mr. You Know Who

And all that you want
Is to hop on your Harley
Cause it’s hard to find words
That rhyme with Ms. Farley

But you sit back and wait
For your drink to arrive
Then your face gets a smile
Cause we’re now down to five

6 Days Left...

Somehow I missed posting the 7 Days Left poem. But that kind of thing happens sometimes. When it does, you just pick up where you left off.

That being said...here's 6 Days Left

It’s funny how wearing jeans
Makes us so happy
Cause it’s not that our other clothes
Make us feel crappy

I think that it’s just what
Our jeans symbolize
That we do a good job
And that we won the prize

See, the sweat that has poured
From each TAKS beaten head
Has somehow caused us
To wish that we were dead

But as we get ready
To come back to school
And our thoughts turn to parents
And kids who are cruel

We remember our jeans
And our eyes start to glow
And you think the day may be okay
Don’t you know…

So you put on your jeans
And you saddle your horse
Then you have a great day!
Cause there’s six left…of course

8 Days Left

I’m glad that you’re back,
Cause I got stuff to say
Plant you buns in your seat,
And do not go away

Some things that I’m seeing,
Have got me concerned
I may just be a poet,
But there’s things I have learned

I spoke some about balance,
Way back last Monday
But some of us here,
Didn’t hear me that day

So please set a time limit,
And try hard to take heed
Then go home at that time,
Because rest’s what you need

I know what you’re thinking,
“Hugh, it’s different for me!”
But no balance means danger,
I hope you can see.

But that’s all about that,
I’ve said all that I will
I’m changing the subject,
So my tush you don’t kill

As far as TAKS goes,
I say, “Damn-it! We ROCK!”
And those students of ours,
Are smart like Mr. Spock

Mr. Spock is a Vulcan,
On original Star Trek
He had points on his ears,
And he’s smarter than heck

If you’re younger than 35,
You won’t have a clue
Just nod a smile sweetly,
Cause I’m almost all through

See what Spock had was logic,
To figure things out
He had zero emotions
And never did shout

Lauren, try to stay focused,
For I promise my friend
That I’m nearly all finished,
I’m almost to the end

For what I have to say,
Is this hear has been great!
You can hold your head high,
Cause our days left are eight

9 Days Left...

This urge to scream
We all must fight
Cause tunnel’s end
Has got some light

I know that it’s only
One small glow
And that its brilliance
Does not yet show

But soon its light
Will be quite gnarly
If you don’t believe me
Just ask Mrs. Farley

I know this time
Of year’s not easy
Your head it hurts
Your stomach’s queasy

But stand up straight
Hold high your head
Take pride in the fact
That you ain’t dead

We’ve made it, you see
Almost to the end
So look around
And find a friend

A friend that made it
Just like you
To the day when digits
Are no longer two

To me one digit
Is sounding fine
Cause baby,
We are down to nine

10 Days Left

You see it on faces
Around school these days
A strange look that I call
“The End of School Gaze”

What does this gaze mean?
Some non-teachers may ask
Does it mean that their meals
All come from a flask?

Let’s put drinking aside
At least for a bit
I know that it’s hard
Please don’t get in a snit

For the End of year Gaze
It comes round every year
And it’s just about due
So do not shed a tear

On the face of a teacher
It’s a far away look
And a dream of a day
With late sleep and a book

It’s a mythical land
Where life isn’t a bummer
It has many names
But most call it summer

For teachers, this gaze
Is a most happy thing
Its arrival make some of us
Burst out and sing

This gaze is quite different
On parents it seems
For it means end of
Their easy-day dreams

Cause they know that their days
Of late sleeping are through
And they’ll have to work hard
Just like me and you

So look in the mirror
And say “Hi!” to your gaze
Then have a great time
Cause there’s just ten more days

End of Year Poems...11 Days Left

Well, the school year is winding down and I have a little tradition this time of year.

I think it was six or seven years ago that I started a kind of a poetry countdown of the year. I write a poem for each day in the end of year countdown. Most of them are funny and all are a bit on the bizarre side. All of the poems are filled with words of wisdom and inspiring thoughts. Each cleverly disguised in my twisted ramblings.

I have no idea how many teachers at my school actually read them, but I email them to the entire campus all the same.

Monday, May 18 will be day 12, but that means there are actually 11 more days. So the poem I’m sending out today will be the “11 Days Left” poem.

I’m not exactly sure why, but I decided to post them here for your enjoyment/bewilderment. Who knows, there may be a teacher out there who stumbles across my words and not only feels inspired, but who now has the strength to face his or her final few days.

Or more likely you’ll read these and think, “Man, he really is strange!”



11 Days Left

We’re down to the wire,
And it’s getting quite short
So it’s time for some words,
And a rhyme...of a sort

To our MHE nubies,
Let me give some advice
But listen up now,
Cause I aint’ talkin’ twice!

At this time of year,
The kids start to get crazy
And for teachers the world,
Starts to spin and get hazy

Now don’t get all worried,
No, don’t get too stressed
Just get up each morning,
Take shower...get dressed

For what you are feeling,
Is normal you see,
And you’re sure to get through,
If you listen to me

Each day I’ll write poems,
With some sanity clues
They’re hints and ideas,
To help fight the blues

And while I’m not a doctor,
It will become crystal clear
That the drug I prescribe,
Looks and smells much like beer!

But forget about beer,
I sure know I will
Lest we follow the path,
Of that sub from Parkhill

I can hear you all saying,
“Hugh, stop being a goon!”
But please keep on reading,
I’ll make my point soon

Life is much, much too short,
So what I have to say,
Is you’ve got to find balance
And then keep it that way

Without proper balance,
Of life and of school
You may start to loose focus
And begin to get cruel

Please heed these odd words,
For they help in odd ways
But there’s one thing for sure,
Just eleven more days!

How NOT to Write a Note

I think it got handed to someone, who handed it to someone else, who handed it to me. I’m not really sure. However, here’s some background.

Bob is a very likable boy, everyone’s buddy. He’s always talking, even when he doesn’t have all that much to say.

Jane is very sweet, well behaved and VERY smart.

It’s has been more than a little obvious that Bob likes Jane for quite some time now.

The note started from Bob to Jane. I intercepted the note somewhere between Jane writing back to Bob.

The note went like this:


To Jane,

Your rily stewpit!

Form, Bob

----------------------------------------


Dear Bob,

Thanks for letting me know.
By the way, you’re really stupid.

Sincerely,

Jane

First I laughed out loud. Next, I went ahead and delivered the note to Bob. I just wanted to see if he would laugh too.

I gave Jane a 100 in Language Arts for extra credit...not that she needs it.

Something I’ve Noticed & Something Cool I’ve Seen...

Something I've noticed...

I’ve written before about the accident I was in back in September of 1990. I’ve discussed everything from how it happened and some of the problems it caused, to how I’m doing now.

In the months directly after the coma and throughout my first year of life as a closed head injury survivor, it seemed like everyday I discovered some new deficit I was going to be forced to live with. Most were minor at best, but deficits all the same.

As weeks became months, and months became years the frequency of new deficit discoveries became smaller and smaller. Eventually I got to the point that I rarely if ever think of it anymore.

That is until last Friday.

The teachers on my grade level, Intermediate we’re called, put an afternoon of bowling, pizza and fun up for bid at the school’s auction this year. This kind of thing usually goes for about $150.00 to $200.00 per teacher and we have six teachers. If you do the math, you can see our auction item brings in a pretty nice little chunk of change for our school. Plus, it’s really fun for the kids...and us too!

I’m not sure if I’ve ever mentioned it before, but after being in a coma for a month back in 1990 my right side was paralyzed. I only had limited use of my right side for several weeks. The doctor told me that, with use, I should get most of my use back in time. However, he also said that some of the fine motor skills would possibly be gone forever. At that time there was just no way to know what or how much of the use would or would not come back.

To date the only lasting problem I’ve ever been aware of is the loss of my throwing arm.

While I was never the starting pitcher, of first-string quarterback I did have a pretty good arm. I could throw a baseball with power and accuracy and I could get a football to the right receiver, most of the time with a spiral.

Not so anymore.

The best I can tell, the problem lies primarily with my release. I can get the arm movement, but I can’t seem to release the ball at the right point to get it to project in the desired direction. This skill, which used to happen so automatically, now works about as well as trying to shuffle cards with my toes. I know what’s supposed to happen, I just can’t seem to make it work.

And while I haven’t tried a lot, I’ve tried enough with both baseballs and footballs to know that my throwing arm, it ain’t coming back. At least not without a good deal more practice than I’m willing to commit at this point in my life. I mean I’ve lived 18 years without it being an issue, so it’s not that big of a deal.

However, at last Friday’s pizza-bowl, I discovered a similar release issue with bowling. Now, I’m not a big bowler and I can count the number of times I’ve been bowling since the accident on one hand. However, in the few times I have bowled I didn’t make the connection to the throwing arm/head injury thing. I just assumed that it me being a bad bowler.

While I’m the first to admit that I am a bad bowler, this time my inability to control the release of the ball was more that a wee bit noticeable.

So now, at least in my mind, I am living with two head injury related, sports deficits. (Really three, if you count throwing baseballs and throwing footballs as two different deficits)

I wonder what I’ll notice tomorrow?


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Now for something cool I’ve seen...

My father-in-law, Melissa, Macy and I went to see Rain, The Beatles Experience at the Fair Park Music Hall last Sunday.

I knew it was about the Beatles, but that’s all I knew. Melissa told me it was going to be like going to a Beatles concert. I was intrigued, but still not overly enthusiastic about going.

All I can say is the show was great! It wasn’t only like going to a Beatles concert, it was like going to several decades of Beatles concerts all rolled into one.

These four guys, who only kind of look like the Beatles, but really sounded like them started with the Beatles from the 1960’s and then transitioned to Sgt. Pepper era and then into Abby Road years. It was quite amazing.

Take a look here to check them out... http://www.rainthebeatlesexperience.com/ and if you have the chance to check them out in person, I highly recommend it.

Dream Fence

I find it impossible, sometimes it seems,
To get my mind my out of the way of my dreams

See, sometimes my dreams, don’t make that much sense,
And around them my mind works to build up a fence

This fence’s true purpose, is not fully clear,
For I still see the dreams, and can stand pretty near

When I reach for a dream, that’s when things get strange,
And sometimes the fence starts to move...rearrange

And I get a small taste of what life could be,
If my dreams were set loose, could run wild, and be free

Then just when I think that a dream might come true,
It feels like a current has traveled right through

As my mind’s fence sends out a small dose of life’s charge
And I’m left with a feeling of fear that’s quite large

With a fence just an inch from my hand’s how I live,
Sometimes your own mind is quite hard to forgive

I'm not sure what this says about me...I mean, the first two lines popped into my head and I just started writing.

Really Cool Stuff I Know I'll Never Have...

I'm sorry about the quality of these pictures, but I don't have a scanner, so I had to use my camera.


Every time I fly somewhere I always look forward to thumbing through the latest edition of Sky Mall magazine. I guess I'm far to easily mesmerized by this kind of thing, but come on...there are literally hundreds of gadgets in there that would be so much fun to have and would make life SO much easier.

Take a look at a few of the things I'm talking about and maybe you’ll understand.


Here we have the world’s largest crossword puzzle. As you can see, it is in fact so large that it doubles as a tapestry. At first I thought, “Man, that would be cool!” However, if you combine how bad as I am at crossword puzzles, with how quickly I get bored with this kind of thing, what you get is an unbelievably useless and ridiculously ugly piece of faux-art hanging on the wall that costs $29.95.


Then we have the battery storage center that holds up to 53 batteries, complete with a high-tech battery tester that tests bulbs and fuses too! I must admit, I almost ordered this bad boy. I mean it’s only $14.95 and it holds 53 batteries! But really, do you need a battery operated tester to tell if a bulb does not work?


And what about a remote control Beverage Buggy. This little guy holds not one, but two 12-ounce cans or two 16-ounce bottles of your favorite beverage. I can just picture it, I’m watching TV and I run out of my favorite beverage. Luckily I have my Beverage Buddy. Assuming I can navigate the buggy around the multiple blind corners and actually get him into the kitchen, an assistant needs to not only be there, but be ready and willing to help. Not to mention the fact that he or she must also be clairvoyant enough to know what I want.
For $49.95 it’s a true steal.


What could be better after a long day of traveling that you very own portable, inflatable whirlpool spa? It holds 250 gallons of water (not included) and costs a mere $899.95.
I don’t know what else to say.


Now these next two I really do like. Not enough to actually order them, but enough to seriously consider thinking about the possibility of maybe looking for them at an actual store.


First, we have the six-device electronics charger. For $99.95, who couldn’t and wouldn't use that on a daily basis? Help me out. I an identify the phone, the I-POD, the camera and maybe a PDA, but what are those two small things?


Next up, is the Squid power strip. I confess, I have had problems plugging in more that two or three of those large cube shaped, device power cords into my surge protector. However, $54.95 would solve that problem in a hurry!


If you’re a true Star Wars fan then your life isn’t complete without your very own voice-activated R2-D2. He may only be 15 inches tall, but he responds to over 40 voice commands. If you could teach him to take your favorite beverage out of the fridge and put the bottles (or cans) into your Beverage Buddy, well then he’d be well worth $119.95.


And last, but not least, is the Programmable Beverage Mixer. Never again will you be forced to live without your favorite frozen beverage. Whether you like Margaritas, Pina-Coladas or Slurpees this $379.00 machine is all you need. It's fully programmable...whatever that means. Hey! I could give a voice command to R2-D2 that makes him mix the drinks in the Programmable Beverage Mixer and then load them into the Beverage Buddy!
Now we're cooking!

Sure there were other things like the $129.95 fake houseplant/cat box, the $39.00 Batagang money clip, or the $129.95 gutter-cleaning robot that were each very tempting, but it was getting late and I was getting tired of taking pictures of a magazine.

Next time you fly do yourself a favor and check out Sky Mall magazine. If you do you’ll get to see a bunch of really cool stuff that I’ll never have.

Just a big kid at heart...

It’s easy to take yourself too seriously. Everywhere you turn you’ve got responsibilities. You’ve got your family, your job, your bills, your taxes, your this, your that and your other thing to worry about.

Life is never ending.
At least that’s what I used to think...

My family and I went to Disney World and we left the world and all it’s responsibilities far behind. We stayed at Disney’s Wilderness Lodge and it felt like the middle of nowhere. Somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind I knew we were in Florida, but it felt like we were in the middle of the Canadian forest.

A ferry took us from our hotel to the Magic Kingdom, or we could hop on a bus to EPCOT or any of the other Disney World destinations. It was a true get away.

This was my fifth trip to Disney World, but being a big kid just never gets old.

Here are a few pictures of our fun.

Me, on the ferry, contemplating some important Disney issues.


Heading into the Magic Kingdom on day one.
(That's Macy in the green shirt)


That Chinese lion almost got us both!


Here we are wearing our 3-D bug glasses.
(I'm the one in the middle with the angry bug face)



And finally...Macy holding up Cinderella's Castle

Why do I love Disney World so much?...I guess I'm just a big kid at heart!

Why didn't I help?

Walking to my car I noticed him. At first I thought he was friends with some people a few cars down. However, their stern Spanish words and his hasty retreat told me he did not know them.

Ignoring his timid, “Excuse me...” I quickly stuffed my bags in the car, hopped in and turned the ignition. Then I just sat there watching him fade into the darkness. This was a semi-rough section of Greenville Avenue here in Dallas and he couldn’t have been more than 13 years old. Based on the condition of his clothes and his less than persistent approach method, I believe he’s a novice at this game

I don’t know why I ignored him. I don’t even know what he was asking for. I assumed money, but he may only wanted to know the time. I never gave him the chance to ask...so I don’t know.

Driving away I felt guilty. I considered turning back to give him some money, but I had already turned, and Greenville can be hard to turn around on, and he may have walked back behind the buildings, and what if he has a gun or some other weapon, and I probably wouldn’t find him anyway...and...and...and...

As I drove home, my mental list of excuses became quite massive.

It’s been about a week since that happened and I can’t get him out of my head. I’ve driven down that section of Greenville several times since then and even though I don’t know if he’s black, white, green, purple or orange, I look for him. I don’t know, maybe I’m hopping to get a second chance.

Maybe it was his age. Maybe it’s my age. Maybe it’s the fact that I have a student in my class this year who’s teetering on the edge of homelessness. Whatever the case, for some reason this young boy looking for help, coupled with my uncaring reaction, has left a mark on me that won’t soon go away.

What's become of me...

No, I haven’t died or fallen off the face of the earth. My computer hasn’t blown up and I didn’t loose all my fingers in some freaky teaching accident. I’ve just simply been away for a while...a long while. However, I think I’ve figured out what has happened.

You see writing has always been an escape for me. I come home, sit at the computer and lose myself in the keyboard. Whatever I happen to be writing magically lures me away to some distant land where the real world, with all its schedules and tasks and problems, can’t hope to find me. And that’s how it’s always been.

However, from late November to about this time of year, if you’re a fourth grade teacher in Texas, something changes. It’s a thing known as “The Writing TAKS Test.”

Suddenly my world transforms from a regular world to one that quite simply revolves around writing. When you come after a full day of leads and conclusions and storyboards and vivid verbs and adjectives and “exploding the moment” and revising and editing and so on and so on and so on...then, at least for me, writing has lost its ability to be an escape.

Writing and I become bitter enemies as I struggle to help little Johnny understand that every sentence must have a subject AND a predicate. Or I’m helping Betty grasp the complexities of how such a small word like “is” can be the simple predicate of an entire sentence. And then I’m trying to explain how in the sentence, “My friends and I go for a run.” The word “run” is actually a noun and not a verb. And with my next breath I find myself re-explaining why, even though a dog can walk and run and bark, the word “dog” is not a verb.

I’m hoping now that this first part of my TAKS Test season is over, writing will be able to make the transition back from a desert of solitude, which it has become, to my oasis of peace which it as always been.

I’ll just have to wait and see.

Is there life after DSL?

I’ve had DSL for about eight years, and in the beginning it was wonderful. However, ever since I added a wireless router to the mix things have not been well.

My network, if you can call it that, drops the signal six to eight times a day! It’s worse than my old dial-up account used to be. We don’t have cable, or I’d check into cable modem, but those are the only options that I know of.

I feel like I’m being held hostage with no hope of ever coming up with the ransom money.

So where do I go from here? Dallas isn’t a small city. There should be other options…but what are they?

Really, any and all suggestions are greatly appreciated.

Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to be able to call AT&T and tell them (after waiting on hold for half the day) that I am canceling my account.

Signed,
Technologically Frustrated

Christmas came early...

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

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

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

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

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

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


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




Well, maybe not by the drug lord.

My Technical Nemesis…the wireless router

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

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

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

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

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

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

And my Internet life was good, until…

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

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

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

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

I guess some things are best left to the professionals…

Kids say the darndest things

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ah, kids…they say the darndest things.

Things Are Getting Better

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

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

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

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

Thanks for listening.

I don't understand...

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

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

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

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


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

Spelling Tests and 4th Grade Hecklers

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

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

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

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

And everyone laughed.

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

And the room completely fell apart.

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

Sometimes teaching can be brutal.

An Unusual Sight...at Least for Me

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

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

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

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

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

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

Life on a Cloud

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If so, then welcome to my world.

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

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

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

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

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

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

What ever happened to Jr. High?

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

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

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

But I digress…

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

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

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

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

It’s a whole new world.

Another FUNY Thing Happened...

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

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

I bet it wouldn't be funy...

Funy Things Happen...

My school has a new principal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like I said, funny things happen!

My Jesus Shoes

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

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

So began my rekindled love affair with flip-flops.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now That's Farmin'!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like the song says;

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

OKC

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Now for the food:

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

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

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

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

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

What can I say – It’s Oklahoma.

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

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

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

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

This is the Life!

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

Here I am with my recent purchases.

Foundations of Life

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

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

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

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

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

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


Cement cylinders

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


Looking down into a hole



One wall of holes



Finished piling with shims

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

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

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

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


Not too shabby, not too shabby.

Some People are Really Stupid...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

Childless in July

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

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

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

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

Power Restored!

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

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