Author: admin

 

Recently I prepped my class for a tunnel of oppression project. I was under the impression that I’d hipped them to the gravity of the situation and the level of effort required to create the tunnel environment. Now of the two groups/skits my class was responsible for, neither seemed prepared for setup at the level that was expected. We walked into our area and saw two other skits looking outstanding and clearly felt overmatched. So, why? I think that a part of that is my responsibility. Its like the coach who gets fired because his team loses a bunch of games. The losses are his fault to an extent–for not making the most out of what s/he had and not preparing his/her players. I feel that as a youth coach and feel it as a teacher especially when the students aren’t properly prepped for the task.

So, why weren’t they ready? For starters, its a developmental class competing with on ors and 200 level courses. Most of the kids I have are first semester college students and are trying on college for size. This reads like an excuse, but I mean it to sound like a condition. Having diagnosed that condition I am responsible for simplifying the tasks to an extent and providing strong enough instructions and time on task to get the work done. I feel like I could have done better with instructions (story of my life) but I also feel like the instructions really become boundaries to creativity to a certain extent. The students formed cogent ideas and executed scripts that felt both realistic and powerful. They just didn’t look as polished and professional as I wanted.

In the end I will learn from the event and I will become a better and stronger and more organized instructor as a result. I’m glad we are doing the tunnel, and I truly hope it comes off well.

The thing about holidays is that once they happen it is like a huge release of pressure. Everything that has built up towards making the holiday great diffuses in a sudden rush of activity. The front end of it is always the hardest. In our case, my boys and I were prepping for the Halloween candy walk right up until the point where we walked out the door. They stressed me out with costume failures and disagreements. Then we left and all was greatness.

I must say that I always wind up having a wonderful time with my boys. I found myself linking this to the cycle of professional wrestling in a way. We end an event and spend the next few weeks building the hype and storyline for the next event. I our case the next event is team parties and Thanksgiving. The latter isn’t really an exciting event, but maybe it is time to start some new traditions and raise the excitement of November’s big day.

Some Thoughts:

1. Mental illness is a serious issue. I wonder why and how we continue to allow the mentally ill the same freedoms–such as freedom to purchase guns–that we allow those who are not sick.

It amazes me still how much my life revolves around youth sports. You’d think I was training future professional athletes. I’m certain that many parents think they are. I see it in every team I coach or watch my kids play for. There is always the kid who is being groomed for The Next Level (TM). At what point does the grooming start too young? 4-5? 6-7? I still believe 10-12 is too young to start looking at you kid as the next (insert mad paid athlete here). Hell, these kids don’t know what they want to be. We as parents try to persuade them all the time, but they ultimately have to figure it out without us.

 

Some Thoughts:

1. I never really threw parties when I was married. Post-marriage I’ve been thinking about the whys and the hows of such things, starting with how do you throw a Halloween eve party for the neighbors and make it worth their while? I think the result was solid fun and gave me the impetus to do more.

I’ve come to think of Halloween as a series of near disasters. This is largely due to the fact that I’m forty now and, for the first time in lord knows how long, I’m going to be wearing a costume. The costume is not the same costume I intended to be wearing as of last night. I wasn’t able to find the ultra-col looking jacket to turn me into this:

Surprisingly enough, I’d made or knew how to create every other element of that look. I wasn’t about to resort to tight pants (read: 40 yr old man), but the rest was set up fairly authentically. I even bought the super cool mask from a designer who frequents comic conventions.

Once the jacket was decidedly impossible, I changed gears and decided to build something around another purchase from a comic book convention:

I purchased a bunch of ultra sabers for myself and the franchise boys (none of which are the one in this ‘appropriated’ image). My frost blue saber is both very cool and lends itself well to a jedi costume. So, thats the new plan: Make a jedi/sith costume.

This whole plan boils down to the robe. Amazon offers nice one’s, but none can get here in time. I’m forced to take my chances and one of these temporary ‘Spirit’ Halloween stores, which advertise having every imaginable costume accessory–so long as you have the cash.

I don’t, but I did do quite a bit of the groundwork for the costume at goodwill and savers. I knew I could make it because I am making two Sith uniforms for two of my three boys, the third preferring to wear a bright blue bodysuit and nothing else.

I’ll keep the blog updated on how things go, but I am feeling good about this change of look. The Red Hood will happen, but not right now.

It is good to have the wire back in play. Not as good to be the guy who is in 3rd in one league (5-2) and 9th in the other (1-6). The problem stems from QB play and a really rough start in both leagues. While the 5-2 team is on track and leading in points most every week, the 1-6 team continues to struggle to crack 90 pts while having scores nearly twice that posted against us week to week. The league has, as one southern associate is fond of saying, ‘stomped a mud hole in my chest and walked it dry.’

This is not the end. I have a (very) outside chance of making the playoffs and have been making moves all week to shore up a shaky team. Presently there are 6 qbs on the roster and I start two. The others have been keeping me alive the past few weeks while I wait for the real starters (including Romo) to heal and play. This is what I get for starting a Cowboy. Lesson learned. Next season will be different.

This week offers a thin slate of NFL games, 14 in all. The results shall be as follows:

MIA over NE
This team is on fire and the Campbell-lead bunch will burn out their engines beating the Patriots this one time. Why? Because Bill B. doesn’t know what they are gonna do. If you don’t know, you cannot scheme.

DET over KC
The Chiefs are a shell of themselves without their lead RB

ATL over TB
Battle of the #1 receivers here and won, handily, by Julio Jones.

SD over BAL
Another QB dream. I wish I could play Woodhead this week…

MIN over CHI
AP all day.

AZ over CLE
The Browns are slipping back into mediocrity.

TEN over Hou
I am starting Dexter McCluster out of necessity, and I think that move is going to pay out this week.

NYG over NO
Giants are back and looking to take their energy and grit to the dome…

CIN over PIT
CIN might not go undefeated this season, but they won’t lose this week.

STL over SF
I cannot figure out who SF is trying to be. You know what I think? Neither can they…

NYJ over OAK
Jets need a win here and they’ll get one. Amari Cooper will get the Revis treatment and there isn’t anyone else left to carry the catching load.

SEA over DAL
Sorry Cassel, no chance here.

GB over DEN
In the first serious battle of unbeatens, the GB D proves to be the difference with a shaky Manning under center.

CAR over IND
Superman is definitely in the building these days.

 

On the eve of nanowrimo I’ve been thinking quite a bit about the obstacles to writing well. The main obstacle is the inability to write often–meaning finding time to write, etc. State of mind is also a huge issue, which has been my issue tonight. I spent most of the night with a throbbing headache and a thundering inability to get in the right headspace. I’m barely in the headspace to talk football, which is the easiest of all subjects to write about.

I won’t make platitudes here or talk about the multitude of ways in which I can change. I’ll jus admit that change is needed in order to be successful at generating a nanowrimo-sized word count.

Definitely have to have better sittings than this one.

 

Some Thoughts:

1. The free writes are fictional. Just saying…

I’ve had a rough go of the last few days. I am trying to get into the writing life routine that I so dramatically fell out of. I am trying to do so before the nanowrimo saga begins. The result is some tough writing days, especially in regards to to a handful of projects I am trying to clean off the docket.

I think the issue with the writing life for me is maintaining focus. With so many distractions in daily life it is difficult to stay on task for a long period of time. The build up and cool down is also an issue. If I want to write for any amount of time I need to spend an hour clearing my head and another after cooling down. The cool down usually comes with a wealth of critical analysis of what I wrote and how I wrote it. That part is useful.

Finding the time to do all this is hard.

(continued)…

Imagine for a moment a thirty eight year old man with a full beard and balding hair dressed in a grey zip-up hoody with bulging pockets and too dirty blue jeans talking to a cute teenage girl about Pokemon cards. In television these situations end up on dateline on the internet they end up on pornhub. Neither situation was a good look for me, especially the latter, considering what I had in my pockets.

The clerk, Brenda, swiped my last item and said, “Do you have anything else?” She was looking at my pockets knowingly.

I didn’t have a real choice here. I couldn’t rob Walmart in broad daylight. All I could do was pull the condoms out of my pockets and dump them on the conveyor belt and try my hardest not to make eye contact with anyone. The girl stopped talking and stared at the condoms with a smirk. The woman behind her fell silent as well, her eyes probing me like she worked for ‘To catch a predator’. I fished back into my pocket for my ATM card, but when I pulled it out the card snagged on the inner lining of the pocket and fell to the ground.

Of course the girl picked it up.

“Tom, right?” She said, reading my name then proffering the card. My smile was more of  a wince. I thanked her and slid the card through the scanner. It didn’t work.

Brenda said, “These are the new style of cards. You have to stick them in the slot below the card reader.”

I was sweating now. I followed her instructions and got that wrong the first time too. She said, “let me show you.” Then flipped the card around and put it in the right way.

To say that everyone was watching me would be an exaggeration. I didn’t know if anyone was watching, because I refused to lift my eyes higher than my feet. Old guys buying condoms is bad enough without getting little girls involved. And she was still completely involved.

“So, you’re really into pokemon, Tom? Other things too I guess.” The girl said. Then the woman behind her came unglued.

The universe continues to lift its leg against the bark of my skin.

I am past the point of seeing things as merely coincidence. If that were the case than I would have to trump my daily life up to bad luck, which is,  for some, an unfortunate interpretation of coincidence. No, my situation is straight universal vengeance, yo.

It isn’t the kill me now variety. This is more like the frog in the pot sort of situation. Here is one example: I’ve been pulled over twice this month by the police. The latest stop was just a few minutes ago, capping off an all too terrible day. The first stop was for an illegal lane change. In other words, I moved from one lane to the other on a through street without using my turn signal. Tonight’s stop was a lot more obvious–He followed me from my house to Walmart and pulled me over just before I reached the store parking lot. I wasn’t speeding. Well, I did go 47 in a 45 for a moment, but it wasn’t even the reason he pulled me over. Apparently my tag was expired. Something he discovered after tailing two feet behind my car for, well, ever. He gave me a warning and then proceeded to explain the multitude of reasons he could’ve cited me and reminded me how grateful I should be.

I’m grateful–to an extent.

I’m tired of being pulled over. I am tired of tires blowing out on the road. I am tired of my dog strategically soiling my house and the cat strategically waking me up when she is just that bored. I am tired of overzealous parents who turn youth sports into the world series.

I’m just flat out tired.

In retrospect, I shouldn’t have bought the Pokemon cards.

I mean, as a stand alone thing a grown man can buy Pokemon cards and not worry about too many awkward stares. Forgetting the fact that Pokemon is an international ‘card sport’ loved by millions, I could have been buying the cards as a gift to a kid. It lines up well. You put the cards on the little black mat and they glide magically to the tired lady with the blue vest that reads Brenda. You meet her small green eyes, smile, and fish for your credit card. She says something congenial, swipes your card pack over a laser scanner then offers to put it in a bag. You pay and the transaction is over. The key is buying the cards alone, which isn’t what I did.

I suppose there are a number of mitigating factors that led up to this particular jam. There was the kid sitting in the larger part of the shopping cart and treating a pack of toilet paper like bongos. There was his mother, fed up and overprotective. There was the girl, friendly and curious–nothing less than the fuse to this whole thing, and then there was me, nervous, hiding the one item I really didn’t want anyone to know I was buying.

She was standing next to me texting on her cell phone. She had on a hoodie and black jeans cut so short that I could see the bottom of her pockets against her legs. Behind her the boy had already launched into his second verse of something that vaguely sounded like Metallica trying to cover The Itsy Bitsy Spider. The old woman ahead of me was trying to write a check. Our clerk looked like she wanted to stab the lady with a pen. I sighed and rolled my neck. I was rocking forward to back, each pendulum swing ending with my eyes landing on my handful of useless junk, which was partioned  off from everyone else’s junk by a pair of plastic dividers. I had a bottle of bug spray, four packs of chewing gum, a can of Monster, two rolls of breath mints, a Snickers bar I’d picked up when I got to the checkout counter, and that damned pack of Pokemon cards. The item I was really here for was jammed in my pocket. I planned to pay for it, but I figured on waiting to add it to the pile until it was my turn to pay.

The girl said, “You know there’s a trick to getting the foil cards.”

I looked at her like she’d just spoken martian.

“I could show you.” And she reached past the no-go barrier and snatched up the card pack.\

Some Thoughts:

1. Out of time… I’ll actually continue this another time. Feels interesting.