Two girls got into a fistfight in my classroom today. I was rattled and fuming mad. I hate this place. Nobody listens to me, nobody respects me, and I get walked all over by idiots who refuse to learn. I often think like this. But should I let the rascals ruin it for everyone else?
There are students who don't care about me, and I, by extension, don't care about them either. Xavier, Teona, Brandon, Gary, Chris. They exasperate me, make me pull my hair out, make me angry and feel worthless. Have they won?
But then there're those students that I impact and enjoy seeing every day. Amber, Lourin, Juli, Lawrance, Larry, Kaleigha, Gabrielle, Dayshawnna, Mariah, Marissa, Jelanie, Corey, Chuck, Destiny, George, Genesis, Melissa, Dylan, Infinity. Shouldn't they outshine the rottenness? Aren't they the ones I'm trying to prepare?
How do I reconcile both sides? I'm struggling with this right now, because thus far, a few spoiled apples are threatening the whole bushel...
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Waffle House
I was somewhere outside Birmingham, Alabama during a torrential rainstorm and decided to wait out the wether whilst dining at one of America's finest diners. I sat down at the counter next to a man speaking very loudly to every member of the waitstaff. They all knew his name and answered back in kind. To my left sat a youngish gentleman who didn't even need to order - his dish of choice was common knowledge among the waitresses. The staff seemed to be really cohesive and enjoyed, at least outwardly, their jobs. So cool...
One of my more interesting ambitions is to work as a waiter in a diner. I want to be the guy behind the counter who interacts with the regulars. I want to shoot the breeze with truckers and old folks and men and women who have stories to tell. I want to meet people and create relationships. I want to be in one of those small-town mom and pop restaurants with kitschy pictures on the wall and a bell on the door. Maybe it's those simple times that are pulling me back...
School Support
Maybe I don't see myself at Madison beyond this year, but it's still pretty fun to get involved. I enjoy wearing my Madison sweater and staff shirts, and I just got another shirt promoting Eagle Nation from the freshman class. I like participating in the fundraisers (chili cookoff this Saturday!) and going to the sporting events. It's cool to see teachers outside of teaching mode, and perhaps even more so to see students (although, admittedly, I'd like to know that I'm going to see them before I see them...long story). It's days like yesterday, when the entire stands were full for the rivalry hoops game against Lamphere, that make me happy to be a teacher, to still be connected with all of it. I love it when students get involved in making my, shall we say "ghetto-ish" high school into something more resembling a traditional high school experience. Only 16 more weeks...hopefully I'll see some more of this.
The Academy Awards
I've watched the awards pretty religiously the past decade or so. I've been such a movie buff and, as such, I thought that it would be best to watch a show dedicated to the best that movies have to offer. I enjoy it, even when the critics lambast it. Sure, I don't care about who wore it best or the speeches or the commerciality of the whole production (which is, of course, almost the whole thing), but I still enjoy it. I like the hosts and the stars and the film clips and getting things right. I like watching the short films presentation, since I've actually been informed for three years running. I like it when good movies that I've seen take home the hardware. It's small victories like this that I embrace, and I don't even complain about the bloated runtime.
Hmmm...can't you see I'm running out of topics? I can't go on an Internet-free vacation anymore if I expect to finish this blog project!
Hmmm...can't you see I'm running out of topics? I can't go on an Internet-free vacation anymore if I expect to finish this blog project!
Moments In Time: Turkey Edition
Moments In Time: Arkansas and Louisiana Edition
Sheer and utter beauty.
You don't see this on your daily commute.
Solo
One of the cool things about roadtripping by yourself is that you get to stop whenever and wherever you want. You get to think your own thoughts, uninterruped. You get to marvel at the beauty that the world has beholden you. You can learn. It's just you and the road, and yet you realize that it's not really that easy, that you are really an infinitesimally tiny speck in a great wild world. Oh to be everything and nothing, all at the same time.
Nashoba North
Hey guys! I got a job for the summer! I'm going to be running the climbing wall at Camp Nashoba North in Raymond, Maine! It starts the day after school lets out, so I'm going to have to hurry up and finish my grades, then overnight the 13 hour drive to the camp in time for orientation! What an interesting (and draining) experience that's going to be. Then, after two solid months of climbing everyday, I get to overnight back to Michigan in time for the Mahler wedding! I'm employed at an awesome camp, doing something I love doing every single day, and fit it perfectly into the available time frame! I can't wait for June! More details to follow...
Another Snow Day
This is our third snow day of the year. I'm thrilled. I'm embracing these because, come May, they're going to be impossible to come by. Sure I'm probably wasting it, but I'm also getting paid for it, just like I still got paid for my road trip last week. Wow having a job is great!
Solution?
I was talking with a buddy the other day about college athletics and the scholarship/recruitment process, especially with regards to big-time sports like men's football and basketball. For sake of clarity, let me just rehash my side of the story/argument and then we can make some decisions.
Every scholarship that is given to a kid with an artificially pumped up 2.34 G.P.A. is using earmarked money from the school or athletic department. This kid maybe cannot read, or skips class and doesn't care. Perhaps this student expects the teachers/coaches to take care of all the "red tape" so that he/she could graduate high school with that scholarship. Never mind the fact that they cannot even remotely handle the "rigors" of high school life, let alone the plush high school life that the better athletes are given. Universities end up rewarding "students" for nothing that a university should stand for. When there have to be so many strings pulled for a minimal ACT score, or grades inflated for a passing G.P.A., where do we draw the line? Wasn't college athletics created as a way to honor the best student-athletes? I mean, media types have been complaining that the line between student and athlete has become blurred so much that many advocate paying of the players, since they are turning profits for the school. Well, maybe they should, since they don't participate in the schooling portion of the university anyway. Or, even better, don't admit them to the university in the first place!
Check it out: what if each university only gave out scholarships/playing opportunities to those students who rightfully gained admission to the university on their own merits? Playing college athletics should be a privilege, not a right, and, as such, student-athletes need to remember the first part of their designation: student. No more line blurring or jacking of scores/grades. No more big-time athletes getting preferential treatment over the kid who could help the university from an academic standpoint. And no more me, as a teacher, wrestling with being the only person giving Dasha a failing grade, since she skipped my class 40 times during the semester, or falling in line and giving her the D- that she so, like her coaches and athletic director and other associated people trying to help her while she doesn't help herself say, deserves.
So what to do with those athletic freaks of nature who want to show off their skills for the pros? Let them. Perhaps they could form a professional team, or a semipro team. The East Lansing Eagles or the Ann Arbor Anteaters. Let them get paid for playing the game, since that's all they're doing at school anyway. Maybe they won't make as much, but that could be because they've found out their real value - their skills aren't as much in demand as the talking heads say. And then, when youngsters see only "real" college student-athletes succeeding, while the the athletes struggle to get by, maybe they will embrace the challenge of getting better at school as the ultimate goal, rather than getting better at sports. My students, at least 10 in every class, have an irrational delusion that they're going to go to a big Division 1 college and then the NBA as long as they keep playing basketball hard. Better grades is not present in that equation. It's a shame that athletics prowess has been so admired, while academic aptitude is something to be laughed at.
And what about the colleges that are potentially losing riches? People will still come to the games, especially if this practice is adopted by all universities. I mean, at the end of the day, are paying customers trying to watch the individual athletes, the ones in which they can't form a personal connection with since they're only there four years at the maximum, or are they coming to watch the school itself? It's a no-brainer. Nobody cares who's on the Wolverines this year; rather, the fact that there are Wolverines in the first place is enough.
Every scholarship that is given to a kid with an artificially pumped up 2.34 G.P.A. is using earmarked money from the school or athletic department. This kid maybe cannot read, or skips class and doesn't care. Perhaps this student expects the teachers/coaches to take care of all the "red tape" so that he/she could graduate high school with that scholarship. Never mind the fact that they cannot even remotely handle the "rigors" of high school life, let alone the plush high school life that the better athletes are given. Universities end up rewarding "students" for nothing that a university should stand for. When there have to be so many strings pulled for a minimal ACT score, or grades inflated for a passing G.P.A., where do we draw the line? Wasn't college athletics created as a way to honor the best student-athletes? I mean, media types have been complaining that the line between student and athlete has become blurred so much that many advocate paying of the players, since they are turning profits for the school. Well, maybe they should, since they don't participate in the schooling portion of the university anyway. Or, even better, don't admit them to the university in the first place!
Check it out: what if each university only gave out scholarships/playing opportunities to those students who rightfully gained admission to the university on their own merits? Playing college athletics should be a privilege, not a right, and, as such, student-athletes need to remember the first part of their designation: student. No more line blurring or jacking of scores/grades. No more big-time athletes getting preferential treatment over the kid who could help the university from an academic standpoint. And no more me, as a teacher, wrestling with being the only person giving Dasha a failing grade, since she skipped my class 40 times during the semester, or falling in line and giving her the D- that she so, like her coaches and athletic director and other associated people trying to help her while she doesn't help herself say, deserves.
So what to do with those athletic freaks of nature who want to show off their skills for the pros? Let them. Perhaps they could form a professional team, or a semipro team. The East Lansing Eagles or the Ann Arbor Anteaters. Let them get paid for playing the game, since that's all they're doing at school anyway. Maybe they won't make as much, but that could be because they've found out their real value - their skills aren't as much in demand as the talking heads say. And then, when youngsters see only "real" college student-athletes succeeding, while the the athletes struggle to get by, maybe they will embrace the challenge of getting better at school as the ultimate goal, rather than getting better at sports. My students, at least 10 in every class, have an irrational delusion that they're going to go to a big Division 1 college and then the NBA as long as they keep playing basketball hard. Better grades is not present in that equation. It's a shame that athletics prowess has been so admired, while academic aptitude is something to be laughed at.
And what about the colleges that are potentially losing riches? People will still come to the games, especially if this practice is adopted by all universities. I mean, at the end of the day, are paying customers trying to watch the individual athletes, the ones in which they can't form a personal connection with since they're only there four years at the maximum, or are they coming to watch the school itself? It's a no-brainer. Nobody cares who's on the Wolverines this year; rather, the fact that there are Wolverines in the first place is enough.
Louisiana
I stopped in Grand Isle, Louisiana. Every house was on stilts. Flooding of the island occurs far too often. According to that bastion of information, Wikipedia, a major hurricane hits every 2.6 years, throwing wrenches into any plan for a consistent, largely uninterrupted society.
And yet, people keep coming back. Why?
And even more confusing, I'm drawn to the place. Why?
Do we crave hardship, like Huckleberry Finn? Do we fear change and can't face moving someplace else? I don't know. I mean, there're thousands of places that don't get destructed every other year. Why not relocate? Or, for that matter, why consider locating?
And yet, people keep coming back. Why?
And even more confusing, I'm drawn to the place. Why?
Do we crave hardship, like Huckleberry Finn? Do we fear change and can't face moving someplace else? I don't know. I mean, there're thousands of places that don't get destructed every other year. Why not relocate? Or, for that matter, why consider locating?
McDonald's
I spent a little bit of time at McDonald's during my sojourn. I think it was in Branson, Missouri, that I came to the realization that there were a lot of workers there. Sure it was the weekday morning rush, but there still seemed to be a sizable amount of employees, each with his or her own task, like an assembly line creating the first meal of the day for multitudes of hungry souls. I imagined that there would be groups of these workers at every single McDonald's across the United States, all rushing around to appease the masses. That, I surmised, is a truly staggering amount of workers scattered amongst North America, not to mention the countless (not literally) thousands abroad.
The typical McDonald's worker that I observed did not fit the mold that may come to mind when fast food is on the brain. While I'm sure there were many a teen at that first job, this being the morning rush I saw individuals who were working their McJob as a sole means of cash flow and, by extension, survival. There were old folks - men and women - merely playing out the string of their working lives, perhaps working part-time to supplement Social Security or the pension. There were others, middle-aged, who may have brought down 40-50 hours a week, making just a tad more than minimum wage, maybe struggling to get by. That's the thing that never really registered with me: people using McDonald's as their career.
I can't decide whether it is a sad state of our world - both that people must "settle" for McDonald's jobs, or that there is enough of a demand to necessitate the millions of employees - or a wonderful thing, people refusing to sit back and let the government take care of them and, instead, taking matters into their own hands and being self-sufficient. There are, for the capitalist in me, convincing arguments for both sides, thereby causing me to, of course, overthink and not come to anything conclusive.
But I suppose there is a takeaway. Usually, after receiving my food, I forgot who served it to me. There are many times when I don't even know who served it to me in the first place. When it comes to fast food, everything is fast - the service, the expanding waistline, and memory of those that assisted me. On the long run of things, I've always thought, they don't matter to me. I'm not looking down on them (I actually admire anyone who works) but it's that I don't take the time to think about the situation. Everything is so hustle and bustle - or, at least, society has conditioned me to believe that this is the case - that I'm (we, collectively) are constantly thinking about what's next.
Now, however, I'd like to think about them. All workers, as a matter of fact. I don't know what I'd do with those thoughts, but, hey, it's the thought that counts, right?
The typical McDonald's worker that I observed did not fit the mold that may come to mind when fast food is on the brain. While I'm sure there were many a teen at that first job, this being the morning rush I saw individuals who were working their McJob as a sole means of cash flow and, by extension, survival. There were old folks - men and women - merely playing out the string of their working lives, perhaps working part-time to supplement Social Security or the pension. There were others, middle-aged, who may have brought down 40-50 hours a week, making just a tad more than minimum wage, maybe struggling to get by. That's the thing that never really registered with me: people using McDonald's as their career.
I can't decide whether it is a sad state of our world - both that people must "settle" for McDonald's jobs, or that there is enough of a demand to necessitate the millions of employees - or a wonderful thing, people refusing to sit back and let the government take care of them and, instead, taking matters into their own hands and being self-sufficient. There are, for the capitalist in me, convincing arguments for both sides, thereby causing me to, of course, overthink and not come to anything conclusive.
But I suppose there is a takeaway. Usually, after receiving my food, I forgot who served it to me. There are many times when I don't even know who served it to me in the first place. When it comes to fast food, everything is fast - the service, the expanding waistline, and memory of those that assisted me. On the long run of things, I've always thought, they don't matter to me. I'm not looking down on them (I actually admire anyone who works) but it's that I don't take the time to think about the situation. Everything is so hustle and bustle - or, at least, society has conditioned me to believe that this is the case - that I'm (we, collectively) are constantly thinking about what's next.
Now, however, I'd like to think about them. All workers, as a matter of fact. I don't know what I'd do with those thoughts, but, hey, it's the thought that counts, right?
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Coffee
On Sunday morning, my first (of three) in Ozark, Missouri, I was awoken by a kick. It was gentle, more of a nudge with the foot, but it startled me nonetheless. But since I was in an unfamiliar place and sleeping on the floor, I figured that I had just surprised an unsuspecting resident with my precarious position. I tried to shrug it off but was roused once more with another, slightly harder and more direct, kick. I looked up, waved, and tried to go back to sleep, but, seeing that I was finally awake, my new "friend" told me to get up so he could take me out for coffee.
I had never met this guy before, but maybe I should back up a bit. I was staying with my friend Kirsten, but she goes to an intensely...conservative...college so I was required to sleep in a guys' dormitory. She directed me to friends of hers and I plopped down on the floor, hoping that they were expecting my arrival. But since it was well into the wee hours of the morning, I wasn't able to announce my existence to my short-term roommates. Nate, my rouser, saw me lying on the futon mattress and decided we needed to get to know each other.
We drove to downtown Springfield (Missouri's 3rd largest city!) and sat down at the Mud House with a delightfully steaming cup of frothy caramel goodness. We relaxed and chatted. He was so easy to talk to and seemed genuinely interested. We talked about his life and aspirations and desires and I found out that he did this sort of thing all the time. He has this knack for making people feel special, for going out of his way to show others that they are cared for.
I was struck. This young man, my age or a bit younger, taking the time to buy coffee and waste some hours with a man (using that term loosely of course) he'd never met, nary even heard about. I want to be that guy. I want to touch people like that. It was such a simple gesture, and yet it was so inspiring. He made me feel...great, just like I'm sure he's done time and again to so many others. How great to want to be impactful on as many lives as possible. How wonderful to care and really get to know people on a deeply personal level.
Definitely a learning experience...
I had never met this guy before, but maybe I should back up a bit. I was staying with my friend Kirsten, but she goes to an intensely...conservative...college so I was required to sleep in a guys' dormitory. She directed me to friends of hers and I plopped down on the floor, hoping that they were expecting my arrival. But since it was well into the wee hours of the morning, I wasn't able to announce my existence to my short-term roommates. Nate, my rouser, saw me lying on the futon mattress and decided we needed to get to know each other.
We drove to downtown Springfield (Missouri's 3rd largest city!) and sat down at the Mud House with a delightfully steaming cup of frothy caramel goodness. We relaxed and chatted. He was so easy to talk to and seemed genuinely interested. We talked about his life and aspirations and desires and I found out that he did this sort of thing all the time. He has this knack for making people feel special, for going out of his way to show others that they are cared for.
I was struck. This young man, my age or a bit younger, taking the time to buy coffee and waste some hours with a man (using that term loosely of course) he'd never met, nary even heard about. I want to be that guy. I want to touch people like that. It was such a simple gesture, and yet it was so inspiring. He made me feel...great, just like I'm sure he's done time and again to so many others. How great to want to be impactful on as many lives as possible. How wonderful to care and really get to know people on a deeply personal level.
Definitely a learning experience...
Monday, February 25, 2013
Lambert's
One of the highlights of my trip was the dining experience at Lambert's Cafe in Ozark, Missouri. It's been featured on the Food Network for its outrageous portion sizes and bizarre tradition of throwing rolls to people, as opposed to setting out a breadbasket or something else more socially respectable. Of course, since I'm not a regular Food Network viewer, I didn't know any of this going in. I was just told that it's famous. Oh boy...
The building itself was enormous and the parking area could have held 300 vehicles, but the dining room was surprisingly small. There was a paper towel roll and some prewrapped silver ware (metal!) awaiting us at our booth and we were immediately served water in Big Gulp mugs. I knew right then that this was some place special. Then the designated roll thrower started tossing out these steamy and delicious rolls while the beautiful molasses girl trailed behind and offered some sugary sweetness to enhance the flavor. I'd started gorging on the rolls and complimentary fried okra before my order was even sent to the kitchen.
When my chicken-fried steak finally arrived, I was shocked. I'm pretty sure my mouth hung open, but that could have been because it was so overstuffed already. It was literally the size of an elephant ear - a real one. It was also topped with mashed potatoes and gravy. My plate (more like a steel mess kit) was 80% full with this monstrous cut of meat, but this was before the unlimited sides started making their way to the table. Kitchen staff began bringing out goulash, potatoes, and black-eyed peas...and didn't stop! Nothing ever stopped here. I was told that even if I had finished my entree, I could have gotten more. Every entree was available for refills! It was like a buffet, except I never had to stand up and avoid the sneeze guards. It was bliss, with a little bit of heaven thrown in.
I don't really know what else to say. It was one of the greatest eating experiences of my life. My stomach hurt, and yet I left smiling. Rolls flying everywhere, food every which way I looked, and smiles. Yeah it sounds enormously cliched, but it's the truth. This place was craaaay! Time to plan the return trip...
The building itself was enormous and the parking area could have held 300 vehicles, but the dining room was surprisingly small. There was a paper towel roll and some prewrapped silver ware (metal!) awaiting us at our booth and we were immediately served water in Big Gulp mugs. I knew right then that this was some place special. Then the designated roll thrower started tossing out these steamy and delicious rolls while the beautiful molasses girl trailed behind and offered some sugary sweetness to enhance the flavor. I'd started gorging on the rolls and complimentary fried okra before my order was even sent to the kitchen.
When my chicken-fried steak finally arrived, I was shocked. I'm pretty sure my mouth hung open, but that could have been because it was so overstuffed already. It was literally the size of an elephant ear - a real one. It was also topped with mashed potatoes and gravy. My plate (more like a steel mess kit) was 80% full with this monstrous cut of meat, but this was before the unlimited sides started making their way to the table. Kitchen staff began bringing out goulash, potatoes, and black-eyed peas...and didn't stop! Nothing ever stopped here. I was told that even if I had finished my entree, I could have gotten more. Every entree was available for refills! It was like a buffet, except I never had to stand up and avoid the sneeze guards. It was bliss, with a little bit of heaven thrown in.
I don't really know what else to say. It was one of the greatest eating experiences of my life. My stomach hurt, and yet I left smiling. Rolls flying everywhere, food every which way I looked, and smiles. Yeah it sounds enormously cliched, but it's the truth. This place was craaaay! Time to plan the return trip...
Sunday, February 24, 2013
The Philosophical Awakening
I was driving along the backroads through the Arkansas hill country and came to a startling discovery. Every house that I passed (though they were few and far between) had someone living in it. Every gas station I stopped at was fully stocked with employees...and so were the ones that I didn't stop at. You see, I'm not the only person in this world. I know this is a painfully obvious connection that I should have made eons ago, but it's still hard to formulate in practice. I mean, what's the point of those other workers? If I choose to go to the BP station, why should the Shell workers do anything at all? They have no bearing on my life. They needn't exist. They play no role in how I live. And that's the realization: other people live. Other people have lives that are important in their own way. They have thoughts and feelings. They don't exist simply to make my life complete, even though it's so easy to think that sometimes.
Here's another example...I was in Mississippi and observed some road construction. My first thought was, "Why are they even doing this? I'm from Michigan." My next thought was, "Hey look! They're doing this just so I have some road to drive on! How forward thinking these people are." My final thought was, "How much more self-centered could I be?" So which is it? Are any of these thoughts correct? Are any wrong? What's the right line on this? Aren't each of us focused primarily on our own lives? Shouldn't we be?
It's just so difficult for me to remember that life goes on whether I'm associated with it or not. Every sick day I take, school/work continues. Everytime I go on vacation, my friends and family get along without me. We're wired to make ourselves as happy as possible, so it goes the other way as well. I mean, when I question why everyone else is in this world if they're not directly affecting me, so too do other people live without me in their lives. They couldn't care less whether I live or die. There are billions of people on this earth who know nothing about me. What is my purpose then? I'm only impacting an infinitesimal amount of people. This is heavy stuff...
So was I awoken? Did I learn anything? What happened? I don't know. Still don't. But that's what road trips are about. I went into the deeper recesses of my soul and came out changed.
Road Trips
They are surreal. Something about them...nay, everything about them...makes me feel whole and complete. I am transported away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life and get to embrace the road, the country, nature, and myself. I've experienced big-time group trips, lowkey one-car trips, and solo trips, all coming with their own perks. Road trips tend to bring out the best and worst in people. Actually, they just bring out the truth. You get to see people for who they really are and for what they really stand for. I've talked before about how great it would be to go on a roadtrip for a first date. If the girl sucks, I'd find out. Likewise, if she rules I'd know. There wouldn't be any need for second or third dates where we're still trying to figure out if it's worth it. Double digit hours in the car together...it'd be perfect. And if it's not, I'd know and wouldn't have to trifle with subsequent dates! But I digress...
Solo trips may seem, on the exterior, boring when compared to all the potential hijinks that could arise from a big group going out. But being alone, learning about self, going to the beat of our own drum...there might not be anything like it. I thought and surmised and wondered about so many things. There wasn't any work to get in the way, no drama, nothing. It was all a rush. The road extended forever, and I was alone in the world. It's an unparalleled feeling.
What's New?
I'm sure the two or so regular readers of this thing are wondering why there's such a gap in the postings. I mean, I promised to do one of these bad boys a day, and it has now been 12 days and no updates. I must suck, or I'm not a man of his word, or something else besides. In reality, I've been on a road trip! I drove 3,000 miles and now have 10 days worth of thoughts to pour out. They should be rapid fire...I hope to get back on track by tomorrow! Boo ya...
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Prevailing Winds
And just like that, things picked up. The kids were spot on today. They were discussing and attentive and I felt on top of my game for the first time in a long time. I felt prepared and focused and things were going extremely well. I even got to go to Golden Corral! Only two more days until break...
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Doldrums
Remember 9th grade science class when you learned about all the different types of wind? The doldrums are those nondescript air forces around the equator that move at a listless pace. They go around and around, crazy slow-like, and rarely affect the weather. I feel like I'm stuck in the doldrums right now. Going around and around, with nothing to really show for it.
But mid-winter break is next week!! Let's tackle that wanderlust!!
Monday, February 11, 2013
My Half Birthday
I started these blogs exactly six months ago. Wow. A lot has gone on. Sometimes it feels like six months was yesterday; other times it feels like a lifetime ago. What I was in August is light years from where I am now, and yet I'm still pretty much the same person. I mean, it's only a six month change. Not much can go on, right? It's quite a thought, one that could warrant some deeper thinking.
And while I was doing that super deep thinking, I remembered the summer. I was visiting Marcus and had just convinced him to road trip up to Yosemite with me. I had just gotten my job offer in Kansas and everything was working out. Everything could be summed up as follows: a beautiful sunshiny day at 8,000 feet, a canopy of trees shading me just right, hammock spread across the trunks, 65 degrees, a gentle wind, and there I was, lying down with a good book. That'd be nice to revisit...
And while I was doing that super deep thinking, I remembered the summer. I was visiting Marcus and had just convinced him to road trip up to Yosemite with me. I had just gotten my job offer in Kansas and everything was working out. Everything could be summed up as follows: a beautiful sunshiny day at 8,000 feet, a canopy of trees shading me just right, hammock spread across the trunks, 65 degrees, a gentle wind, and there I was, lying down with a good book. That'd be nice to revisit...
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Great Movie Scenes I
This is a scene from Ferris Bueller's Day Off. It is, in my opinion, one of the greatest movie scenes of all time. I love the song that goes along with it, and I think it's so awesome to see the great triumvirate channeling their inner child one last time. They begin the scene by joining in with the child chain, smiles on their faces as if it's the best thing ever. Then we see the priceless works of art, centered in the frame, in their full glory. While Sloane and Ferris are losing their childlike playfullness under the Starry Night, Cameron is finally reverting to his non-existant childhood. He's staring at the child in the painting, deeper and deeper, as if peering into the very soul itself. Cameron, it seems, is struck. His younger days were full of yelling and distrust. He felt useless, courtesy of his parents' ignorance. But he sees this child, carefree and innocent, and forms a bond. He reaches a connection. It clicks. Beautiful filmmaking.
The Lost Weekend
I always feel like my weekends are such a waste. I mean, I have fun, but it's a different kind of fun. It's more of a restful fun. I want to relax. I want to sleep in. I want to recharge. And then, before I know it, it's Sunday night again and I'm dreading going back to work. This is my job - living for the weekend, but not utilizing it to its full potential because I'm so darn dead. Man...
Saturday, February 9, 2013
Snow Day 2
We got the snow!! It came!! School was canceled!! I really had no idea what to do. I slept until 11 a.m. and then took an hour nap at 3:30. I was so messed up...but I loved every second of the laziness!!
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Anticipation
I'm sitting here at school at the end of another long day. Tomorrow is Friday. I'm a particular fan of Fridays. I go out for my weekly Bob Evan's lunch, I get paid (half the time), and I know that I've got two days of freedom awaiting me on the other side. And as if that weren't enough, Oakland County is under a Winter Weather Advisory tonight until noon tomorrow. There could be a snow day tomorrow, giving me a full three-day weekend. On top of the fact that mid-winter break starts next Friday. There's a lot to be looking forward to!
Isn't anticipation a crazy thing? I remember when I bought my ticket to Turkey in September. I had a full three months to wait. Everyday was a little bit closer to pay dirt, the time that I would finally be able to walk two continents. But the odd part was that the time didn't seem to go slowly. In fact, being involved in a day to day routine meant that I was busy often and barely had any time to think about the impending gloriousness. The better part of the busyness was that I was actually doing something that I liked. Going to school everyday and making money and contributing to society is a wonderful thing, thereby making (almost) everyday a treat.
Do you remember when you were a little kid? Time used to crawl. The night before big important or exciting things was always beyond agonizing. The night before Christmas was usually spent twisting and turning under the covers, wishing and hoping for the dawn to come so that I could open presents and eat delicious treats. I recall the night before big vacations when I would be restless and constantly thinking about the fun that was going to come. When you're a kid, it seems like everyone is telling you what to do. You have little say in stuff and things don't come as enjoyable. Time goes slower. Or maybe time goes slower because you haven't lived as much of it yet. It's like the law of marginal utility. The more of something that you have, the less value that each part has. The more time that I live, the less important every individual minute is on my life. The less I have lived, the more important. It's an interesting thought, to be sure.
And then there's the unfortunate reality that our expectations are unmet. That's what I fear may happen tomorrow. I'm sitting here thinking about the incredible snow day opportunity, when I may be just blowing smoke in the breeze. But I can still hope, right?!
Isn't anticipation a crazy thing? I remember when I bought my ticket to Turkey in September. I had a full three months to wait. Everyday was a little bit closer to pay dirt, the time that I would finally be able to walk two continents. But the odd part was that the time didn't seem to go slowly. In fact, being involved in a day to day routine meant that I was busy often and barely had any time to think about the impending gloriousness. The better part of the busyness was that I was actually doing something that I liked. Going to school everyday and making money and contributing to society is a wonderful thing, thereby making (almost) everyday a treat.
Do you remember when you were a little kid? Time used to crawl. The night before big important or exciting things was always beyond agonizing. The night before Christmas was usually spent twisting and turning under the covers, wishing and hoping for the dawn to come so that I could open presents and eat delicious treats. I recall the night before big vacations when I would be restless and constantly thinking about the fun that was going to come. When you're a kid, it seems like everyone is telling you what to do. You have little say in stuff and things don't come as enjoyable. Time goes slower. Or maybe time goes slower because you haven't lived as much of it yet. It's like the law of marginal utility. The more of something that you have, the less value that each part has. The more time that I live, the less important every individual minute is on my life. The less I have lived, the more important. It's an interesting thought, to be sure.
And then there's the unfortunate reality that our expectations are unmet. That's what I fear may happen tomorrow. I'm sitting here thinking about the incredible snow day opportunity, when I may be just blowing smoke in the breeze. But I can still hope, right?!
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
James Franco
I had my second interview with a summer camp yesterday. One of the questions that Jess asked me was "if I could co-counsel with anybody, living or dead, for the entire summer, who would I choose?" For some reason, the first person that came to my head was Mr. James Franco. I've been strangely heterosexually attracted to that man for a while. As I explained to Jess, I dig the fact that he cares so much about his craft. He went back to acting school to improve himself. He studied theory and performance. He's acted in plays and one-man films in which he's carrying the whole production. He's been involved in big studio productions and indie darlings. He acts for the deeper love, not for the cash or the adulation. He wants to do the best that he can. Now, of course this is all conjecture. I've never met the man. He could be a total jerk in real life. But this is how I know him. What a guy.
He is also, I might add, ruggedly handsome. The epitome of what a man should look like.
He is also, I might add, ruggedly handsome. The epitome of what a man should look like.
Steroids
So this would never happen. I know it. But it makes sense. To me at least. Steroids should be legal in sports. Why take so much time and focus trying to combat the widespread usage? As the old adage goes, "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em."
Let's discount for a moment the fact that steroids are illegal to possess, sell, or manufacture in the United States (and Canada as well). Just because things are illegal doesn't mean that we don't do them. In fact, these illegal things are sometimes glorified - murder in a Stallone film, marijuana in Colorado, underage drinking on any college campus. Steroids could simply be added to the list. But here's what I'm thinking...
Steroid "abuse" has become extremely commonplace. At least, it seems that way. I log onto espn.com and see that Ryan Braun had been linked to yet another steroid company. An hour later, I see Jhonny Peralta is on the list as well. This comes a week after Alex Rodriguez's slip-up and Lance Armstrong's admission. We've been bombarded by Ray Lewis rumors and bogus Hall of Fame elections where everyone is guilty by association. All of these men have been pumped up by the media. Their athletic prowess is praised endlessly. They've learned that the path to fame and fortune is to continue being the best at their craft. It's like John Candy said in Cool Runnings: "When you make winning your whole life, you've got to keep on winning, no matter what." Admittedly it's not just the media's fault. Yes, they're a convenient fall guy, but some of the blame rests with the individuals - the athletes themselves.
And that's when we get to the crux of the issue. Athletes are obsessed with winning. It gets to them in a way that many of us can only dream of. They are wired differently. I'm not going to pretend that I understand the science that goes along with it, but perhaps it has something to do with the fact that they are physical specimens. They are better than the rest of us, the proverbial cream of the crop, the best that we can imagine. There are about 400 NBA players. They are the 400 best basketball players in the world. They are freaks of fitness and ability and are amazing physically in ways that we can't even imagine.
Since these athletes are the best in the world, we reward them. Professional athletes are entertainers. We are the consumers. We pay for them to be the best, to wow us with their amazing skills and exploits. So here's the thing...why don't we want them to be even better? If steroids can make already incredible athletes even more incredible, why aren't we supporting this? We're paying for the entertainment and expect to see the best effort and ability. Well, shouldn't people who are getting paid millions of dollars be expected to push their bodies to the absolute limits? Shouldn't they do everything they can to earn their paychecks? To entertain the consumers? If big is good, then bigger is better! If fast is good, then faster is better! Why do we not support this?
Advocating free steroid use may be detrimental to people's health. I get it. But so is sport in general. We are paying people to risk their lives in the first place. That is just the nature of things. Athletes understand the risks going in. They have the freedom to do what they want. I'm a firm believer in utter and total freedom, so why should this steroids issue be any different? We want to see the absolute pinnacle of sport. Well, wasn't that Barry Bonds? Wasn't that Lance Armstrong? Wasn't that Mark McGwire? When it was convenient, these sports stars were applauded. They were seen as inspirational competitors who knew what it took to win. Now athletes aren't as good, right? No more 70 homer seasons. No more back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back Tour de France champions. I don't know.
Further, who decides what a steroid is or isn't? Isn't Tommy John surgery a form of steroids? Doctors are unnaturally improving an arm. What about Oscar Pistorius? He had no legs and had the most advanced replacements, some sort of alloy that bounced terrifically off the track and were super light. Isn't that an unfair advantage? It's a steroid, right?
It's interesting when we have these debates about what's accepted or what isn't. Yes, I suppose the legality may play into it, but all unnatural additions are steroids, correct? Why aren't these athletes seen as pariahs as well? They are going to great lengths to achieve athletic superiority. One is accepted, one not so much. We're creating a minefield. It's tough to navigate.
Let's discount for a moment the fact that steroids are illegal to possess, sell, or manufacture in the United States (and Canada as well). Just because things are illegal doesn't mean that we don't do them. In fact, these illegal things are sometimes glorified - murder in a Stallone film, marijuana in Colorado, underage drinking on any college campus. Steroids could simply be added to the list. But here's what I'm thinking...
Steroid "abuse" has become extremely commonplace. At least, it seems that way. I log onto espn.com and see that Ryan Braun had been linked to yet another steroid company. An hour later, I see Jhonny Peralta is on the list as well. This comes a week after Alex Rodriguez's slip-up and Lance Armstrong's admission. We've been bombarded by Ray Lewis rumors and bogus Hall of Fame elections where everyone is guilty by association. All of these men have been pumped up by the media. Their athletic prowess is praised endlessly. They've learned that the path to fame and fortune is to continue being the best at their craft. It's like John Candy said in Cool Runnings: "When you make winning your whole life, you've got to keep on winning, no matter what." Admittedly it's not just the media's fault. Yes, they're a convenient fall guy, but some of the blame rests with the individuals - the athletes themselves.
And that's when we get to the crux of the issue. Athletes are obsessed with winning. It gets to them in a way that many of us can only dream of. They are wired differently. I'm not going to pretend that I understand the science that goes along with it, but perhaps it has something to do with the fact that they are physical specimens. They are better than the rest of us, the proverbial cream of the crop, the best that we can imagine. There are about 400 NBA players. They are the 400 best basketball players in the world. They are freaks of fitness and ability and are amazing physically in ways that we can't even imagine.
Since these athletes are the best in the world, we reward them. Professional athletes are entertainers. We are the consumers. We pay for them to be the best, to wow us with their amazing skills and exploits. So here's the thing...why don't we want them to be even better? If steroids can make already incredible athletes even more incredible, why aren't we supporting this? We're paying for the entertainment and expect to see the best effort and ability. Well, shouldn't people who are getting paid millions of dollars be expected to push their bodies to the absolute limits? Shouldn't they do everything they can to earn their paychecks? To entertain the consumers? If big is good, then bigger is better! If fast is good, then faster is better! Why do we not support this?
Advocating free steroid use may be detrimental to people's health. I get it. But so is sport in general. We are paying people to risk their lives in the first place. That is just the nature of things. Athletes understand the risks going in. They have the freedom to do what they want. I'm a firm believer in utter and total freedom, so why should this steroids issue be any different? We want to see the absolute pinnacle of sport. Well, wasn't that Barry Bonds? Wasn't that Lance Armstrong? Wasn't that Mark McGwire? When it was convenient, these sports stars were applauded. They were seen as inspirational competitors who knew what it took to win. Now athletes aren't as good, right? No more 70 homer seasons. No more back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back Tour de France champions. I don't know.
Further, who decides what a steroid is or isn't? Isn't Tommy John surgery a form of steroids? Doctors are unnaturally improving an arm. What about Oscar Pistorius? He had no legs and had the most advanced replacements, some sort of alloy that bounced terrifically off the track and were super light. Isn't that an unfair advantage? It's a steroid, right?
It's interesting when we have these debates about what's accepted or what isn't. Yes, I suppose the legality may play into it, but all unnatural additions are steroids, correct? Why aren't these athletes seen as pariahs as well? They are going to great lengths to achieve athletic superiority. One is accepted, one not so much. We're creating a minefield. It's tough to navigate.
Monday, February 4, 2013
I Am The Walrus
Something just popped into my head:
"I am he
As you are he
And you are me
And we are all together."
Is this true?
Do we have the same attributes, experiences, thought processes, moralities, or pleasures? Or is this a metaphor, that through it all, we are all still people and should love each other. I'd go with the latter...but I'm not 100% sure. It's just something to ruminate on.
"I am he
As you are he
And you are me
And we are all together."
Is this true?
Do we have the same attributes, experiences, thought processes, moralities, or pleasures? Or is this a metaphor, that through it all, we are all still people and should love each other. I'd go with the latter...but I'm not 100% sure. It's just something to ruminate on.
A Thought...
So here's what I don't understand...football is America's most popular sport, and yet parents are becoming ever more hesitant to allow their children to play it. Football draws ONE THIRD of all Americans to the television during its championship game, even amid steroid scandals, bounties on players heads, equipment failings, replacement referees, and myriad other off-field issues. Football is the "way out" for a good portion of impoverished youths (exclusively boys, however) and yet is met with derision and anger when the game claims one of her own. Football players are allowed to entertain for a living, and yet line up in the wrong positions on purpose to enforce some stilted personal agenda, thereby jilting the paying customers who keep the money flowing. The media glorifies big hits and yet takes the concussion problem to new heights. People who made their living on football are now suing the very institution that set their families up for life. They claim that football did not warn the players of the inherent risks of playing the game. But they didn't blink an eye when the paychecks were cashed.
I'm disillusioned with football. Perhaps it's all sports, but football, for some reason, really irks me. Part of it is the constant money lust associated with players, owners, colleges, advertisers, etc. I mean, people genuinely believe that college football players should be paid. What many fail to realize is that this opens a tremendous can of worms. As an athlete in a non-moneymaking sport, it's a dangerous precedent. How can a certain group of people be paid, in addition to a scholarship, and the other athletes are not? There is the same dedication to the craft and, in most cases, more devotion in the classroom. Another issue is the major conference realignment and subsequent fallout. Again, the little guy is forgotten. Now that college is becoming all about conference affiliations and big bowl game opportunities, schools are chomping at the bit to leave their geographical stable base and shamelessly seek out the chance for a bigger chunk of change. That's why we now have West Virginia playing its conference games with Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, and Baylor. It was a purely football decision. But now we have baseball teams, swimming teams, tennis teams, etc. jetsetting all over the country to play non-revenue sports. Isn't this a bit counterproductive?
And then we've got the NFL itself. The League has become a walking contradiction, not only rewarding teams that get hot at the right time (even though they're only 5th best in the conferences), but they pay/enable malcontents (Albert Haynesworth, Titus Young), decry and glorify hits, turned the game into a touch football special, claim to care about concussions whilst trying to increase the season, and employ a player's association that is far too powerful. What am I missing here?
I read a bit ago about the NFL eventually losing its status. There is no hard and fast rule that the NFL will remain ever-popular. But it acts like it is. Eventually, the star will lose its luster. Football will fade. I'm not sure what to think about it. This whole post has seemed like a poorly-explained contradiction. Oh well...it was a lot more ranting than I thought it would be.
I'm disillusioned with football. Perhaps it's all sports, but football, for some reason, really irks me. Part of it is the constant money lust associated with players, owners, colleges, advertisers, etc. I mean, people genuinely believe that college football players should be paid. What many fail to realize is that this opens a tremendous can of worms. As an athlete in a non-moneymaking sport, it's a dangerous precedent. How can a certain group of people be paid, in addition to a scholarship, and the other athletes are not? There is the same dedication to the craft and, in most cases, more devotion in the classroom. Another issue is the major conference realignment and subsequent fallout. Again, the little guy is forgotten. Now that college is becoming all about conference affiliations and big bowl game opportunities, schools are chomping at the bit to leave their geographical stable base and shamelessly seek out the chance for a bigger chunk of change. That's why we now have West Virginia playing its conference games with Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, and Baylor. It was a purely football decision. But now we have baseball teams, swimming teams, tennis teams, etc. jetsetting all over the country to play non-revenue sports. Isn't this a bit counterproductive?
And then we've got the NFL itself. The League has become a walking contradiction, not only rewarding teams that get hot at the right time (even though they're only 5th best in the conferences), but they pay/enable malcontents (Albert Haynesworth, Titus Young), decry and glorify hits, turned the game into a touch football special, claim to care about concussions whilst trying to increase the season, and employ a player's association that is far too powerful. What am I missing here?
I read a bit ago about the NFL eventually losing its status. There is no hard and fast rule that the NFL will remain ever-popular. But it acts like it is. Eventually, the star will lose its luster. Football will fade. I'm not sure what to think about it. This whole post has seemed like a poorly-explained contradiction. Oh well...it was a lot more ranting than I thought it would be.
Sunday, February 3, 2013
February
The beginning of February marks an interesting time. We're far enough into the new year that we're no longer accidentally writing 2012. Winter is still going, and we're at the point where we've typically seen enough. School is again full swing, with Spring Break still too far away to get excited about. The Super Bowl is just around the corner, but after that we return to regular season doldrums via the NBA and NHL.
Everybody talks about the dog days of August, where we get worn down by summer and vacation and what not. I'm thinking, then, about the husky days of February. They go on and on.
Everybody talks about the dog days of August, where we get worn down by summer and vacation and what not. I'm thinking, then, about the husky days of February. They go on and on.
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