On Holiday

With a week down and 35 more to go I feel a little bit like a 6 year-old starring down the bottomless abyss of formal schooling.

This Week The Trend...

...was to get myself up about 5am, take the few unconscious hours that I have to spend, and work away the rest of them.

My kids are great. They really are. I don't think there's a brighter 8th grade class in the country, and I'll prove that to you come standardized test time. Also, after taking a couple hours just to finish some grading and enter it into the computer, I discovered that the student who has been my biggest discipline problem so far (which just means that he doesn't sit up straight and tries in small ways to be a class clown) is the only student thus far with a perfect A. After 3 quizzes, 5 homework assignments, and a writing lab, he has yet to miss a point. These kids are really good, and, despite the fact that they are only in 8th grade, most have done a pretty good job of understanding everything I say, even in the moments when I'm teaching in a way that would be more appropriate for seniors in high school.

Gauging the level at which I can lecture and the level at which I can expect my students to perform is going to be one of my biggest problems.

Now I'm sitting in a coffee shop using craptop to get some internet-related work done. Craptop is Brad's old hollowed-out computer that has neither battery, nor floppy drive, nor CD drive, and to top it all off the cord is covered with an electrical tape coat in an effort to make it more likely that the power-supply won't be cut off (which in the absence of a battery shuts the computer off immediately). Despite all that I've seldom been more thankful for a machine as i've been unable to "borrow" internet at home as of late.

Someday I do plan to return that internet. My future business (constructed on the Mr. Whitford business model) entitled "Good Times" will have free Wi-Fi.

If you didn't already know, and I'm pretty sure only two of you did, I signed up for RCIA classes last Sunday after mass. Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults is a preperatory program for receiving the sacraments in the Catholic church. So, over the next several months, starting September 6th, I'll be attending weekly cathecism class with the intent of entering the church at Easter. So, if you have reading material or well constructed arguments for me either about the Church, or about why I should run the other way, I'd like to hear what you have to say.

Is it wrong to listen to my blog playlist while writing my next post? It feels a little perverse.

Once again, I know I say this every couple days, but you should really listen to The Good Word playlist. Each post is named for a song and those songs grace the sidebar of the page. You can't really know me without knowing my music and I'd like to think that you wouldn't mind adding some of it to your own personal collection.

I laid off coffee this week so that I didn't end up getting jittery in class. But in the future I'll keep this in mind:



There are probably about a thousand episodes, but I really should start getting together a complete collection of The Red Green Show on DVD. It's one of the few really materialistic goals I have in life - along with having a secret part of my house that you can only get to by swimming through an underwater tunnel.

Good Riddance

Today is Brad and Leroy's last day in the Springs. As soon as Leroy gets out of work they'll be loading up his car and drag-racing back across the country to the beauty and simplicity of "the wolverine state". Lucky punks.

It's not what you do... it's who you beat.

I've always said that it's not what you do, it's who you beat. The Olympics are the perfect proof of this. Why would it ever matter that some guy could run real fast, stab a stick into the ground, and use it to throw himself over a tree-branch? Why would it ever matter that someone would string up a couple of rings from the ceiling and twirl around on them? No one would ever watch these things... that is unless it was to see someone from our country beat someone from Russia at doing these things. Anyone ever watched curling?

Colorado has been hard on us this summer. Here are some play-by-plays of our toughest match-ups and a summary of how we fared against each opponent.

Jenn from Leasing

The Opponent: A 98lb blonde leasing agent. Our first and greatest enemy. Not only was she unhelpful and rude during our housing search, but she made us sleep on the ground in a state park without a tent for four days after our application was approved so that the apartment could be cleaned. When we arrived in CSprings after our involuntary camping trip, which was terminated early due to a snow-storm, we showed up at Sunflower Inc. to sign our lease only to find that Jenn had forgotten that we made an appointment with her and had taken the day off. When we moved in we discovered that not only had the apartment not been cleaned, but we had to move the refrigerator and stove from the center of the kitchen to cover the filth that she was supposed to take care of while we were cooking Ramen over a fire in bear country.
The Battle: After vowing revenge we only actually saw Jenn once this summer, in a bar downtown. But, because the alcohol was so watered down (thanks again CSprings) Brad never got up the courage to go hit on her (the plan was that he would date her for awhile, marry her, divorce her and ruin her life).
The Winner: Jenn. Not only is my apartment still unfurnished and slowly falling apart but my utility bill quadrupled between the month of June and the month of July.

Downtown

The Opponent: We decided on the apartment we have because we wanted to be near downtown. It appeared to be exciting and friendly, filled with quaint little shops, bookstores and restaurants. Turns out the place was entirely out of our league. Not only was everything expensive but the people were rude and sometimes naked (one night we were passed by three, seemingly unrelated bike-streakers). The only place that was really on our side was The Corner Cafe which, as I've said before, had the best food and the best people the Springs has to offer.
The Battle: We did a lap around downtown almost every night. Never once were we ever engaged in conversation by someone who wasn't asking for change or telling us to vote for Obama.
The Winner: Brad and Zach. We learned our lesson about downtown early on, we defeated Panino's in open combat, we got in good with Uncle Wilbur and the rest of the locals, and never gave CSprings an inch.

Dumpster Divers

The Opponent: The homeless of CSprings come in many varieties. There's the faker, who you see getting out his car before he goes to his begging corner. The backpacker, who seems to be voluntarily homeless and is just passing through. The oldtimer, who is pretty well set up with either a grocery cart or several double-reinforced plastic bags. The prophet, who gives sermons in the park or is just generally always mumbling to himself. And finally, the dumpster diver.
The Battle: We never did give in and empty our pockets, but I did give a guy a piece of pie once.
The Winner: Dumpster Divers. We thought we had the upper hand until a dumpster diver (after asking if he could have my bike a couple days before) cut the chain and stole it. He'll make about $7 selling it as scrap metal. I hope those bolt-cutters cost him....

Women of The Springs

The Opponent: Armpit hair
The Winner: No one wins with armpit hair. Draw.

Employment and Cost of Living

The Opponents: The Corner Cafe, The Cleaning Authority, and College Pro Painters.
The Battle: The Corner Cafe treated me very well. It fed me, clothed me, and loved me as its own. But at $300 per paycheck my earnings were only about 75% of my expenses every month, which was okay. I knew what I was in for. Leroy had a pretty good set up with the Vinyards and The Cleaning Authority. He worked for the family business (maybe not as many hours as he wanted), lived in the family's bunkhouse (read: shack) and, on top of that, they fed him. The downside was that The Leroy Shack was about 100 miles from anywhere and between gas costs, flying home for a wedding, and eating out just enough to break the monotony, he'll probably break even. Brad, however, got the shirt ripped off his back by College Pro. They took a couple weeks to hire him, paid him unfairly, forced him to wear white pants (a fashion sin), and ultimately laid him off with three weeks left in his summer. Despite living as frugal of a life as possible: surviving on only hotdogs and dreams, while relying on hulu.com for entertainment, Brad won't only be down the cash that he lost not working all that time, but also his dignity.
The Winner: Poverty.

As we sit here, sipping our victory Jones Soda (blue bubble gum if you must know) that we've been saving from the travel package Mike and Maggie's put together for our trip out here, we realize that we were saving them all summer for a time when we would have something to celebrate. I guess Brad heading back to the land of trees and freshwater is as good of an occasion as any.

You win Colorado. But know that no one would care about your hollow victory if you weren't beating Michigan's finest.

It's been a long summer. A long, sweaty, sticky summer

P.S. Thanks for the cookie Jose.