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at least it was for 1st and 2nd graders. us kindergarten teachers are still screening bright young minds before placing them into classrooms. i'm showing off my mad-crazy reflexes above in a skit for our school's positive behavior system. if the objective was to show how to fluster mr. brown enough to make him remove his hands from his pockets, then they failed...big time. actually, mrs. frush and mrs. weaver were showing 2nd graders how not to get to the bathroom as they irresponsibly brush mr. russell and i to the side, interrupting our engaging conversation. the picture is courtesy of the photo dude from the newark advocate and can be viewed here.
that's right. i'm a star.
Ashley and I kept our niece, Allysse, five days a week this summer. Occasionally, Ashley would keep her alone while I was in class or at work once a week and I would keep her alone when Ashley was teaching. For the most part, it was a team effort. At the swimming pool, at the park, playing putt-putt, visiting Cosi. It also made for a loooooong and tiring summer at times.
Which is why I've really cherished these last couple of quiet weekends with Ashley. They've been moments for us to spend alone and enjoy one another's company. Relaxing and leisurely, compared to weekdays with Allysse at least.
Today was my last Saturday with Ashley of the summer. On Monday, teacher workdays begin. On Tuesday, we start pre-assessing Kinders. On Thursday, I meet my students and their families. The following Monday, 180 days of learning begin.
I feel bad because I don't feel that I took full advantage of my first full summer with Ashley. We were so busy with Allysse that we didn't make as much time for ourselves. Alas, the past is the past and you've got to take advantage of the days alone that you do have.
I enjoyed my Saturday with Ashley. We spent a little time at the pool, took a nice walk at Dawes Arboretum, had dinner at Ruby Tuesday's (salad bar, YUM), took a bike ride in and around Hebron, and had soft-served ice cream at Ashley's favorite, Hayman's. I wish we had more days like this during the summer, but we've got many more summers to look forward to.
I love you.
the one and only dream team. kerri strug landing a pivotal vault on a sprained ankle. michael johnson hitting 23 mph in his 200m run. derek redmond's father helping him limp across the finish line.
these images and events remain embedded in my mind over a decade later. they were memorable for varying reasons. the dream team was the greatest collection of basketball talent ever, playing together and dismantling the competition. kerri strug fought off her own personal pain for the benefit of the team. michael johnson displayed pure, insane athleticism. possibly my favorite, derek redmond, with the help of his father, finished what he set out to finish.
now there's a new image.
i thought the 4 x 100 freestyle relay was a nail-biter. phelps' teammates, especially lezak, stepped up and pulled out a victory. but phelps showed why he is the best during the 100 meter butterfly. why he may be the greatest ever. if it were any other swimmer, i would've conceded victory to the serbian swimmer cavic at the turn, with 25 meters remaining, and in the final 5 meters. but even as cavic reeeeeeeached for the wall, my gluteus maximus rose from the couch and i pumped my fist as phelps willed himself to victory with an extra half of a stroke. the replay was close. really close. 1/100ths of a second close.
on a slightly negative note, phelps could only manage an olympic record. his previous six races resulted in world records. step it up, mike!
but now phelps has 7 gold medals in one olympic games. his name will live forever. on saturday night, he and three other American teammates will decide whether his name will stand alone or with spitz.
the bunk and cool lester smooth from the wire are two integral pieces in david simon's new television puzzle. the two actors, wendell pierce (left) and clarke peters (right), signed on to simon's new orleans project treme. "treme" refers to a musical community in new orleans. the show will follow musicians trying to rebuild their lives in post-katrina new orleans.
hbo has only bought a pilot script. once the pilot is made, hbo will decide whether or not to greenlight a full season. judging by hbo programming co-president richard plepler's recent comments (and simon's already completed masterpiece the wire) i think treme stands a good chance of allowing simon to once again "write" a visual novel.
Lush Life is my 2nd Richard Price novel of the summer. While it wasn't as good as Clockers, it was pure Richard Price.
And that's a great thing.
Forget plot.
Price writes dialogue and characters better than anyone I've read. Ever.
Characters unfold at a deliberate pace. Price doesn't force anything. He allows the characters room to breathe and simply be. Every bit of dialogue doesn't have to push plot. Dialogue, in the case of Price's novels, do as much to reveal and build character.
And don't really forget plot. Plot is still important. Price's novels explore the differences (and similarities) between people and the clash that can inevitably take place when cultures collide. In the case of Lush Life, the clash takes place on the Lower East Side of New York City where established immigrants are finding themselves slowly pushed out by young aspiring bohemians and they're all surrounded by towers of broken promises in the housing projects. The event that pushes the novel takes place early on (and the perpetrator is revealed fairly early, too) and the joy of reading Price is how (and if) you reach the conclusion.
He doesn't disappoint.
this is what the olympics are all about.
sure, it would be great to see michael phelps coast through his events and sweep the golds.
but it's not all about him. it's about representing your country amongst the rest of the world-class athletes from around the globe. and in the case of the men's 4 x 100 freestyle relay, it was about four guys giving their all.
in the end, it wasn't phelps who carried the US to victory. it was the final leg, swam by jason lezak, that brought the US from behind. lezak swam the final 100 meters in 46 seconds. 46 seconds! that is absolutely unbelievable and i hate that i couldn't stay up late enough to see it in real-time.
oh well, that's what the internet is for.
okay, so maybe stuart shephard didn't pray for that much rain. and he surely didn't pray for rain in drought-ridden areas that surely could use it. so why exactly did he send out a prayer request for rain on his latest internet video produced by the evangelical Christian group focus on the family?
why? for the democratic national convention, of course! actually, not even the entire convention. just the final night. or, more accurately, the final speech, that's going to be given outdoors by Senator Barack Obama at invesco field in denver, colorado.
such a nice guy, that stuart shephard is.
remember a few days back when i posted about the things that get my blood boiling? add Christians like this to my list.
his "humble" prayer request hardly seems humble. in my opinion, it falls more in line with presenting requests to God for that date with the homecoming queen, or hitting the winning shot during the state finals, or passing that test that you neglected studying for. pretty selfish prayer request if you ask me. then he goes on to talk about how if it doesn't rain, he'll trust God's wisdom and will and blah, blah, blah. if you're so concerned about abortion and homosexual marriage, mr. shephard, wouldn't God want you to pray for Mr. Obama, not rain to distort his image and message from the cameras broadcasting during primetime? maybe a change of heart in the senator?
but, nooooooooooo.
i forgot. apparently Democrats aren't Christians and a rain (although not quite on par with Noah's flood) will drown out their message.
anyways, i'll continue to attend church (i hope the presence of an Obama bumper sticker on my car doesn't result in barred church doors - or a biblical flood) and ignore jokers like shephard. because he isn't the first and he won't be the last.
Ashley and I have had many a conversation about the ridiculous amount of money athletes and entertainers make. It's a heated topic for Ashley that gets her blood boiling much like the mention of No Child Left Behind or Fox News or shopping carts left in the middle of parking lots does for me. Too often, I slightly defend the rich people by putting some of the blame on the consumer as well.
But after the month-long fiasco in Green Bay with Brett Favre, I might have to reconsider. I used to admire this guy. I loved his child-like demeanor on the field. He looked like he was having fun out there. Like it wasn't his job to play quarterback for the Packers. It was just something he did because he loved it. His ability to pull a rabbit out of a hat on the football field left me chuckling at his brilliance.
And everyone knew he was nearing the end. His retirement had been speculated for several years. He even left Green Bay management in limbo as he decided whether to play or retire. And for several years, he decided to come back. Then comes 2008. A press conference. Tears were shed. It was the end.
Or so we thought.
Evidently, he contacted Packers management months later stating he may want to come back. They set up a private plane to pick him up from his home in Mississippi. Two days before his supposed return, he called back the Packers and said nevermind.
Now the past month has taken place. Brett Favre wants to come out of retirement and play. He wants to start again for the Packers (even though Aaron Rodgers has been groomed for this job for years and was given it the moment Favre retired). If they won't let him play, he wants to compete for the job amidst a media circus posing as what's supposed to be training camp. And if that's doesn't work, he wants to be released, free to go wherever (including a division rival that would face the Packers twice a year). And don't trade him unless he agrees with the destination.
Boy, does this guy think the world revolves around him?
First off, his "will I or won't I retire" routine at the beginning of every off-season is enough to make Green Bay want to sever ties like a fickle relationship on its last legs. Second, the NFL is a business and the Packers own the rights to Brett Favre. He understood that when he signed a contract. And contracts are made to be honored. If this guy had a job in the real world (and, no, the NFL is not the real world) his fickleness would've worn thin during the final years and he might have been asked to leave sooner. He surely wouldn't have been given back his job like he's expecting the Packers to do now. If the Packers are now committed to Aaron Rodgers as their quarterback, then that's their call (and I happen to agree with them). The Packers don't have to release him so he can make their rivals, the Minnesota Vikings, contenders. The Packers don't have to ask Brett Favre first if he'd prefer this place or that for a trade. The price of making multiple millions each year is that your rights are owned by the business you work for.
Sounds like a tough gig if you ask me. But what do I know? I'm just a teacher that could never support my family on my salary alone.
Over the past month, Brett Favre has turned into every other whining athlete who believes they deserve more than they make. That they're somehow worth more than any other individual in the United States of America (including the President). That the world revolves around them and their selfish demands.
I was a little sad when Brett Favre retired. I thought that one of the good guys of the game was gone forever. Too bad this past month will leave a lasting legacy of him in my mind that will do nothing to distinguish him from the rest of the millionaires who play sports or entertain.
And as much as it pains me to say this: Ashley, you were rrrrrrr...rrrrrriiiiiiiiii...rrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiight.
yesterday was the shared birthday of Barack Obama and Governor Ted Strickland.
here in licking county, i "celebrated" by calling local voters to determine their voting plans for the upcoming election. a whole lot of people weren't home or had disconnected numbers. a few people told me they didn't feel comfortable telling me their voting preferences. several felt like they were between a rock and a hard place because they liked neither candidate. quite a few told me that they were either voting for john mccain or not to call back because the person i was trying to reach was a strict republican or that they "didn't agree with mr. obama" right before they hung up without saying goodnight (a couple of those callers were nice and didn't hang up until i told them that i appreciated their time). and then a precious handful told me they were planning on voting for Senator Obama. they weren't available to help volunteer because of lack of time and busy schedules, but i told them that their vote was good enough.
i wanted to help in this election because, for once in my short voting life, i believe in a candidate. i believe in their message. i believe that they might actually do what they say they're going to do.
and this candidate happens to be a polarizing figure (almost, and maybe even more so, than Hillary - to my complete surprise). there are those that believe he's a muslim, despite evidence to the contrary. there are those that believe he's a socialist who wouldn't much less vote for a democrat in the first place. and there are those that hate him because he's black, and i really can't do anything for those people.
but my thought was maybe i can do something to convince someone that Barack Obama is worthy of the hope. and worthy of their vote.
we'll see.
i was standing all alone against the world outside.
you were searching for a place to hide.
lost and lonely, now you've given me the will to survive.
when we're hungry love will keep us alive.
don't you worry, sometimes you've just got to let it ride.
the world is changing right before your eyes.
now i've found you there's no more emptiness inside.
when we're hungry love will keep us alive.
i would die for you.
climb the highest mountain.
baby, there's nothing i wouldn't do.
now i've found you there's no more emptiness inside.
when we're hungry love will keep us alive.
lovely, melodic air guitar solo
i would die for you.
climb the highest mountain.
baby, there's nothing i wouldn't do.
i was standing all alone against the world outside.
you were searching for a place to hide.
lost and lonely, now you've given me the will to survive.
when we're hungry love will keep us alive.
when we're hungry love will keep us alive.
when we're hungry love will keep us alive.
at least it was for 1st and 2nd graders. us kindergarten teachers are still screening bright young minds before placing them into classrooms. i'm showing off my mad-crazy reflexes above in a skit for our school's positive behavior system. if the objective was to show how to fluster mr. brown enough to make him remove his hands from his pockets, then they failed...big time. actually, mrs. frush and mrs. weaver were showing 2nd graders how not to get to the bathroom as they irresponsibly brush mr. russell and i to the side, interrupting our engaging conversation. the picture is courtesy of the photo dude from the newark advocate and can be viewed here.
