Inside Out Reflection

    Whoa, this is a heavy set of baggage when it comes to movies. It’s heavy emotion wise for me, both movies, actually. 

   I know I usually have some witty starter to my entries, but I don’t really feel witty of late. It’ll come back, I am sure, hopefully soon, because writing about “heavy” stuff isn’t my usual style. Of late, I have been bogged down with a lot of emotions. All I can say of that is, IT’S ABOUT DAMN TIME!

   For a long time now, I can’t even pinpoint exactly when it started, I have had an emotional wall around me, a strong one that kept a lot inside. I think it was designed to protect myself from, well, whatever. Not a lot was getting out except a few moments of anxiety, frustration, and anger. But once those moments were gone, the wall repaired itself. 

   I was not even aware there was a wall. I should have been. Looking back on the recent past , I see where I wasn’t being myself, not opening up to people who are important to me, especially my own family.

   Then I saw “Inside Out 2”…and a few days later I saw the first one. The wall crumbled. Slowly at first, but a week later I rewatched some parts of both and after a talk with my counselor, I began to understand that I was finally beginning to feel liberated in terms of feelings.

   I’ve been crying a lot at odd moments. Lots of thoughts, Lots of reflections.

   In the first one when Riley is finally able to tell her parents she is sad, wow, I think that moment will elicit tears from me every time I see it. That’s ok, that’s my personal connection. Really, I see that moment in the movie and I want to hug that girl myself and let her know her feelings are normal and right to have. The fading of Bing Bong is also a biggie, though I appreciate Richard Kind’s perfect voice for a character created in a toddler’s mind. It made his fading away all the sadder just like the fading away of all young children’s wonderful imagination.

   Some might think it’s only a Pixar movie, why am I getting so worked up and emotional? I guess the answer is that it had to happen. I have been reading and watching videos online about these movies and that I am not the only one reacting this way.

   The main musical theme in Inside Out is also a touching one for me, evoking a lot of emotions about my daughter and the carefree innocence she once had before becoming a "moody" teenager. Believe me, I feel that sense of loss now regularly. I know that childhood innocence and fun is an era I will not feel again, nor see again in Natalie. Another sad feeling, but one I really have no choice but to accept. Thank heaven for all the recorded bits we have of her!

   A lot of sadness and grief in a short time. Playing catch-up I guess, and it is YEARS worth. That's ok. I feel more alive emotionally than going through the motions.

   I am happy to be experiencing these feelings again and to be enjoying a better relationship with my family and myself. So if a couple of animated movies got the tear ducts going, so be it. 

Inside Out

    Whoa, this is a heavy set of baggage when it comes to movies. It’s heavy emotion wise for me, both movies, actually. 

   I know I usually have some witty starter to my entries, but I don’t really feel witty of late. It’ll come back, I am sure, hopefully soon, because writing about “heavy” stuff isn’t my usual style. Of late, I have been bogged down with a lot of emotions. All I can say of that is, IT’S ABOUT DAMN TIME!

   For a long time now, I can’t even pinpoint exactly when it started, I have had an emotional wall around me, a strong one that kept a lot inside. I think it was designed to protect myself from, well, whatever. Not a lot was getting out except a few moments of anxiety. But once those moments were down, the wall repaired itself. 

   I was not even aware there was a wall. I should have been. Looking back on the recent past , I see where I wasn’t being myself, not opening up to people who are important to me, especially my own family.

   Then I saw “Inside Out 2”…and a few days later I saw the first one. The wall crumbled. Slowly at first, but a week later I rewatched some parts of both and after a talk with my counselor, I began to understand that I was finally beginning to feel liberated in terms of feelings.

   I’ve been crying a lot at odd moments. My biggest moment, though was to my daughter. With my wall up, I was sharing things with her that a teenager did not need to hear from her dad. I apologized for that. A moment in the second movie when the main character Riley was having a panic attack struck me immediately and I made the connection to Natalie’s own struggles as a teen. I had no right to add to them.

   And in the first one when Riley is finally able to tell her parents she is sad, wow, I think that moment will elicit tears from me every time I see it. That’s ok, that’s my personal connection. Really, I see that moment in the movie and I want to hug that girl myself and let her know her feelings are normal and right to have.

   Some might think it’s only a Pixar movie, why am I getting so worked up and emotional? I guess the answer is that it had to happen. I have been reading about these movies and that I am not the only one reacting this way.

   The main musical theme in Inside Out is also a touching one for me, evoking a lot of emotions about my daughter and the carefree innocence she once had before becoming a "moody" teenager. Believe me, I feel that sense of loss now regularly. I know that childhood innocence and fun is an era I will not feel again nor see again in Natalie. Another sad feeling, but one I really have no choice but to accept. Thank heaven for all the recorded bits we have of her.

   A lot of sadness and grief in a short time. Playing catch-up I guess.

   I am happy to be experiencing these feelings again and to be enjoying a better relationship with Natalie. She is the best thing I ever created and the best part of me. So if a couple of animated movies get the tear ducts going, so be it. 

Transitions

    About six years ago, I looked at all the rent I paid to landlords over 16 years. It came to about $150,000. What I got from that is, hey, I wonder if we were able to buy a house, would we save some money? Strangely enough, we found a person who worked the numbers and found a way for us to get in someplace. After a very brief search (1 day), we found a house that appealed to us, and after all of the signings and applications and what not, we were homeowners in early August of 2018. In fact, we presented it to Natalie as her big 9th birthday present. Of course, we bought her some other presents, but this was the biggie. 

   And of course, for a few years our mortgage payment was higher than our rent had been so we had to negotiate that with one income. On top of that, our AC unit was old and rusted and needed replacing. Another expense. Plus, the water was crappy, so when a water softener company came knocking, we opened the door and bought. 

   I have no regrets about ANY of this, because I know after a little while, the rent would have become more than we could have handled. I have known for a very long time that with Vickie's health problems she would likely not be able to work again in a traditional job. 

    Having said "no regrets", I think new anxieties came up as a result of the new home dynamic and I did not deal with it well...meaning I did not deal with it in a healthy way at all. My anxieties were turning into sarcasm and anger and Vickie and I fought frequently as a result. And going from a fairly cramped apartment to a decently spacious house, I was able to find some space to "get away" here and there, and often that getaway was on the computer with the headphones on with Vickie watching TV in the same room. We had not fully utilized the loft yet so we were downstairs a lot.

   I am beginning to understand now that my walls were coming up big time at this point. I think I had a similar though shorter-lived period after I got married. Married life was a new thing to me for the first six or seven months, for Vickie, too. We had not talked about the changes we would have to deal with. For a long time, she had the partly negative, partly funny nickname "bachelor teacher guy" for me because even though we were living together for months before getting married, I still had a lot of habits and behaviors from years of being single...MALE single. I still looked up porn on the computer and lef tclothes all around and also said things offhand which I thought were mildly funny but I had not realized made her upset. It was a long period of adjustment. 

   Also in those early days we realized we had something else big in common: bad spending hsbits. I don't remember how many times our bank account got in the negatives back then but it was often, and a fuel for argument, especially at Christmas time. I remember one argument we had after Christmas about funds and I think I moved my body in a way that she thought I was going to hit her and she moved back a bit. I would never have done that to her and it changed a bit how I approached arguing...but not exactly in a healthy way...I just chose to let little bits of anger come out when I felt them but did not find a full release mechanism.

   Coming back to new homeowner days, I was withdrawing without knowing it by early 2019. I was also eating quite unhealthily and not moving a lot. Somehow through all of that I was getting some good blogging done. 

   Not only was I emotionally withdrawing, I was also feeling anger and frustration at work that summer as my bosses did not know what I would be teaching until 3 weeks before we reported back. I was also fearful of a kidney stone procedure coming in late August. Not long after that, we took in a 2 day old kitten that we needed to feed like a newborn, menaing many late night feedings and resulting lack of rest for a month. 

   And then months later COVID came. I was trying to get healthy by eating better and exercising. While this produced some good results, it was creating distance between me and Vickie. She supported what I was doing but she also knew I tended to throw myself head on into things and then crash and feel down about it. Well, time took its toll as I went about my health mission. We slowly got more distant. Well, I got distant, she reacted by buying lives and power-ups for games on her device and buying what seemed like the entire Amazon warehouse. 

   I reacted angrily to those instances which were many and I retreated into many social media platforms and posted and respended to others' posts, really just trying to get attention that I should have been seeking from Vickie. Not necessarily sex but just good 1 on 1 honest communication. She had seen some of what I posted and got very upset, understandably. Natalie had seen me be sneaky on the computer or phone and it affected her as well. And all of my harmful shenanigans were taking a toll of Vickie's relationship with Natalie, resulting in many dinner table arguments and storming off. I did not know how to deal with any of this, how to referee. I shut down even more.

   Bigger shutdowns were happening in 2023 when a debt relief program I had signed up for two years before was showing it had failed and creditors were coming after me. On top of that, an old friend from my early teaching days was drinking herself to death and reached out to me for some kind of help. I had many long phone conversations with her just to keep her alive. She finally went for treatment in late July. When she was fully back on her feet, our conversations continued, but now I was sharing a lot of my grief in life as I saw it then. Once again I was talking to someone else but not my own wife and it was Vickie I was talking and complaining about. My mom was worried about Vickie hurting Natalie and my own frustrations made me lash out about that, too.

   In late November, everything came crashing down as Vickie told me she had seen messages between me and others, particularly the friend and my dad. It was a definite fork in the road on my birthday: sell the house and go our separate ways or work on things just the 2 of us. We chose to work. I was still doing things on social media, not thinking anything of it being damaging, but that was dealt with down the road as well, my need for attention. 

   Wow do I need help!

COVID

    I don't think there has been an era in my life that had as much of a negative effect on my life as the COVID did...or have. I leave that last part ambiguous because I am not entirely sure the whole thing is over.Most people say it is and that there are a just few cases here and there. 

   Either way, it put life into a strange sort of emotional vacuum for me. Well, not an entire vacuum. It left me with feelings of anxiety, obsessiveness, anger, and a good amount of withdrawal. Maybe the better thing to say is a HAPPINESS vacuum.

   Before the whole debacle began, I wasn't doing all that great, either. It's not like the pandemic suddenly thrust me into hell, I was kind of there to start with. My weight was not good and I looked horrible. The summer of 2019 had me diagnosed with a kidney stone and an uncertainty of  what I would be teaching in the fall. Not much exercise going on, either. In fact I remember a photo taken of me and Vickie at the Christmas party at a colleague's house. I looked atrocious. In fact, now when I see a photo of me anytime between 2012 and 2019, I feel a bit sad that I let myself get to that point. Very carb addicted, no self control when there were sweets in the house...and I sought them out at the store. Strange that about 15 years before, I was going to the gym and for a time was looking damn good. Also we had spent a good part of the fall raising a rescued baby kitten from two days old, menaing late night feedings. That had an impact on health as well.

   Right before the 2019 Christmas break, some people at work decided to lead a Biggest Loser challenge for the staff. I figure what was there to lose (except weight). I had already gotten an iWatch for my 47th birthday. The trick was to how to start things right. Someone from back home in Pennsylvania gave me a tip on low carbing my diet. I let the rest of 2019 roll by, getting the bad stuff for the last time for a while. 

   After some early stumbles in terms of my body adjusting (including a bout of gout when I didin't monitor my beef intake), I finally got into a groove of good fats, protein, and low carb snacks. 

   I preface the COVID era with all this because it was what had a major impact for the next few years. 

   In late 2019, I was 226 pounds. By mid March of 2020, I was 202 pounds. A triumph for sure. 

   And then COVID came.

   Well, let's back that up. The various sketchy news reports were starting in early February, translated by Trump as a "no problem, carry on" thing. 

   On March 13, nobody knew what was happening as more cases were reported nationwide and worldwide.

   On March 14, Vickie and I were given tickets for Billy Idol that very night. Not seats, right on the floor standing about ten feet from the man himself! Vickie and I took photos of each other ready for a good time. I was looking so much better than that Christmas party photo already! We had a great time!

   On March 15, Natalie had learned that school was canceled for the next week from her friend's mom and the news came within an hour of that officially.

   The next week was nothing except making sure we had good supplies of necessities in the house. I remember people hoarding water and toilet paper. I just wanted good food in the house.

   For the next two months aside from Spring Break week, we teachers were checking in with our kids weekly, sometimes giving assignments that mattered not whether they were done or not. It was already weird for me. Aside from the well checks and occasional Google Meet, I was doing puzzles and going to the store and watching whatever on the tube. My good eating slipped a bit but not badly.

   After the impromptu "drive thru" 5th grade graduation ceremony in mid to late May, I began what I now consider the insane walking program. It started with some simple walks to the mile-away Starbucks and back. The walks slowly increased to five miles, then six, seven, eight, and finally just one time a ten mile walk! I did this a few times a week, alternating with a "foot rest" day doing practically nothing. 

   All the while, I was still eating pretty well....wait! Not so fast. In my quest for low carb goodies, I got into a bad habit of listening to and reading ads for "healthy low carb" food and snacks. What I did not realize was that many of these snacks were filled with salt, the pork rinds in particular. Still, by July I was down to 185, my lowest in 16 years.

   I had also shaved my head in April, the reasoning being that I hated hair maintenance and if COVID was the end of times, I wouldn't be worrying about hair care. This look would continue for two and a half years.

   Mask mandates began in the summer. They are not missed.

   Our nice next door neighbors moved due to being kicked out unfairly by their landlords.

   In August, we were getting ready for a virtual school year, learning to combine "synchronous leanring time" with "asynchronous learning time" along with creating templates for a system called Canvas that wasn't really used until the next year. For the next three months I taught my kids for small bursts of time on Google Meet, then have a lot of nothing in between. I was sitting in my classroom alone, sometimes going outside for a quick stroll.

   Masks and daily health checks online were mandatory for work.

    And I walked and walked and walked, sometimes going into a short jog for a few feet. I am understanding better now that this was due to a lot of anxiety about myself. One of the things keeping me sane  on the work end was my weekly coffee rotations and brief chats with my friend and colleague Candice.

   In November, on our 14th wedding anniversary, I found out that with the COVID cases on the high rise, all of the teachers were being sent home to work from there for the time being. This was not to be the best time. We had two warring cats that I cussed at in front of my Google Meet. Coffee with Candice was also done as a result until we were all back at school.

   Alex Trebek passed.

   We got new next door neighbors who smoked regularly on their front porch, just 10 feet from our front door. It was to be an acrimonious year and a half.

   My stepdad Don passed on New Year's Day 2021. The odd thing still, to me, is that I shed a few tears when watching Alex's final Jeopardy episode and had not shed a tear over Don.

    In January, Vickie and I got 2 bikes for a total of $100 from an independent seller.

   And a new kidney stone from all of those salty snacks. Tried decaf for a while. Not fun.

   The day after that stone blast, Vickie had a hysterectomy. A week off for both recoveries.

    I finally met all of my kids in person in April. I had met with one over Christmas break at Starbucks. It was a fun almost two months. Even though we were online most of the year, that was one of my best groups ever.

   Another drive through graduation in May.

   With lots of Federal COVID money available, summer school was offered for all of June. I took the whole month for a good amount of pay. Deprived me of a full summer, which in hindsight might have been a mistake. I transitioned from walking to bike rides, including a massive 22 miler one morning, similar to my 10 mile walk a year before. Once again something to prove to myself.

   With that extra money, Vickie and I finally had a chance to stay at one of the Mt Charleston cabins for a night. We also went to Laughlin with our friend Kimberly for a couple of days.

   The new school year began in-person in mid August. Same mask crap, same daily check ins.

   And a new kidney stone from apparently not enough lemon water. Switched back to caffeinated.

   It was around this period, mid to late 2021 that I wasn't acting like myself. Spending way more time online, longer bike rides, avoiding quality family time. Natalie was changing from cheerful kid to  preteen, kind of like Riley in Inside Out.

   In early December, I accidentally backed into the neighbor's car as he was backing into his driveway. Nothing like adding fuel to a cold war!

   In early 2022, all the anxieties over masks, online checkins, available funds and what not, adding in my increasing withdrawal from life, was causing a depression. A few free sessions with a therapist over the phone hit at the iceberg's tip but really didn't resolve anything. My Dad reached out with some money for a fun Spring break and an offer to help with a new car, which came in June.

   Final drive through graduation in May. Mask mandates has gone away unless otherwise directed.

   Only three weeks of summer school offered and taken. 

   Asshole neighbor moved away. Left a bag of cigarette butts in my backyard as a memento.

   In the fall, the daily check-ins went away.

   You'd think with all of that strange hell leaving that I'd be feeling better. I wasn't. In fact, the worst was to come in 2023. 

   I am sure I am not the only person by far who this COVID era traumatized. 

   But then I am also figuring out things started further back than I realized. And it's helping to know that. I'm turning 52 this year and whatever time God has allowed me to have, I want to enjoy that time with my wife and daughter. Before we know it, Natalie will begin to drive and then down the road, leave the nest. I do not look forward to that. 

   Then again, how many parents do?

   To those who made it physically but are struggling emotionally from the COVID era, my heart is with you and wishes you peace. 

   

   

Celebrity Price is Right

    I will admit right here and now that I am a huge fan of game shows, always have been, right at the age of two. Yes, I have vague images of that, watching Chuck Woolery host the original version of "Wheel of Fortune". I also loved "High Rollers" as a kid. That show introduced me to Alex Trebek. Other early loves were "Hollywood Squares", where I saw the comic genius of Paul Lynde's bitchiness and the hosting mastery of Peter Marshall; "Joker's Wild", where I got a glimpse of what slot machines were, and "Tic Tac Dough", which used early computer graphics on a tic tac toe board. 

   An old favorite which has since grown stale for me was "Family Feud". What I really looked forward to as a kid was the fast money game, the rest of the show was just filler...kind of like the old "Ultraman" shows were...the first 2/3 of the show was filler until Iota turned into Ultraman to defeat the episode's threat to Japan...er, Earth. Back to Feud, as an adult, I watched the John O'Hurley and and Richard Karn versions with Vickie. When Steve Harvey started, it was pretty cool but as the years have gone by, it's like the answers got dumber and/or raunchier just to get Steve's famous facial reaction and retort.

   One show I did not watch much as a kid but caught more of as an adult was "Match Game". I enjoyed this one less than Hollywood Squares, at least the 1973-82 version. Lately, Vickie and I have been watching the Alec Baldwin era, which is raunchier but funnier and has a better rotation of celebrity panelists than the 1970s version.

   Of course, we have to mention "The Price is Right", a favorite for any kid home sick or faking sickness to stay home to avoid PE. All those pricing games are classics, along with the wheel and showcase showdown. I am old enough to remember when Bob Barker kept his hair artificially dark until I was in 9th grade. The natural gray only helped his ratings and the old ladies loved him even more than they already did.

   And then there is the classic "Jeopardy". I never caught the 1964-75 years with Art Fleming except in rare YouTube clips. To me, there will never be a better emcee of this straight out quiz show than Alex Trebek. His passing still saddens me as I grew up wth the man, as a viewer anyway.

   Sometime in the 1990s, there was a new trend of game shows...letting celebrities be the contestants instead of crap-shoot panelists. I say crap-shoot because it was obvious to me that some celebrities were out to make sure a contestant they did not care for lost. Now, if a contestant had made a pile of money already, this tactic made sense. There was no social media or other media hype of game show contestants back then, so there was no viewer pressure. There was a bit in Peter Marshall's book about Squares when there are times when Paul Lynde didn't like a contestant and he was brutal...of course he was often several drinks in anyway.

   Incidentally, if I ever had the opportunity, I'd host a local version of Squares, with local celebrities. Peter Marshall, John Davidson, and Tom Bergeron always looked like they were hosting the greatest party in the world. That's an enviable gig!

   The first celebrity contestant experiment was Jeopardy, and this was often funny to watch. Quite often we associate actors and reporters as larger than life, but when they try to buzz in or are wrong when they so confidently gave the answer in question form, it made them just a bit more real and down to earth. Of course, the money won went to a favorite charity.

   We also had Celebrity Family Feud when it was on ABC. Lots of retro shows and soaps "battled" it out for charity. The laugh here was seeing our old favorite show actors older.

   Here's what I would like to see...Celebrity Price Is Right! However, there's a catch. These celebrities need to be down-on-their-luck has-beens who never did their own shopping until recently. Also, we need a bit more sarcasm to fit this kind of show. As much as I love Drew Carey, I think Joel McHale would do well here, both as host and announcer.

"Mel Gibson, come on down! Nicolas Cage, come on down! Lindsay Lohan, come on down! Kim Basinger, come on down! You're the first group of has-beens on The Price is Right!"

   I can just picture their difficulty at guessing how much common consumer products cost. I would imagine Donald Trump having the same kind of difficulty and he’s always been well-off.

   Now, as these are has-beens who have experienced financial troubles, they would be their own charity, but having been at the top, the prizes would need to be more humbling. I can just see it:

   Joel: Come on up, Nic. Ready to win something for a change? 

   Nic:Hey, I won an Oscar, asshole!

   Joel: Yeah, 20 years ago. Now you're the king of straight to video.

   Nic: Enough already!

   Joel: Well, let's see if you'll feel enough for a USED CAR!  (an old tan sedan is rolled out) Yes, it's the 1980 Chevy Citation! Shakes when it goes past 55, an AM only radio, and a ceiling that sags on your head. This can be yours IF the price is right!

   The showcase showdown would have none of the frill of what we see daily. "The first showcase is for Mel...where does everyone like to shop? You guessed it: Wal Mart! Enjoy a $500 Wal Mart gift card so you can enjoy the everyday wonders of waiting behind two women in their pajamas arguing over ramen flavors while texting, making your wait for a week's worth of soup dinners interminable. And for Lindsay: the same Chevy Citation that Nicolas Cage didn't win, plus a cash prize of $5,000, which will go directly to those you owe money to."

   Too over the top? Maybe. Too humiliating? Perhaps. It really doesn't matter since this is all fantasy. Just remember to gets your pets spayed or neutered. Bob IS watching!

   

Darnell

    Well, with all good (and bad) things in life, all eras come to an end, and I am currently at the end of a big one. A 13 year era in fact. Of course, it doesn't hold a candle to Johnny Carson's 30 year reign as the host of the Tonight Show, but hell, that guy was only working a couple nights a week anyway in his last decade.

   I have been a classroom teacher for an entire 22 years now. Well, if you include my northern California subbing years, it's actually 26 1/2 years, more than half my life. Yet, the subbing years were not an every day thing at first. The consistent 5 days a week gig began when I moved to Las Vegas in August of 2002.

   In that time, I have worked at 3 schools. The first one was Tom Williams Elementary for an 8 year period. It was a good school with a lot of diversity in its student population and boy did I learn a lot of lessons there. The big lesson was to not try to get promoted to a position where I had no competence. Lots of teachers were promoted to a position known as "Title I Specialist"...and their main job was to infiltrate teacher conversations and report anything suspect back to the boss. Other than that, they looked to buy things with title money from the Federal government that eventually were stored and no longer wanted or used, especially technology.

   My second school was also good. It was Gilbert CVT, a magnet school focusing on the arts. If circumstances had been better I could have done well there, but life threw me some monkey wrenches before I even started at Gilbert, and the result was not being prepared for good classroom management and coming into constant conflict with the boss. I lasted precisely a year and a month and a half there.

   And then we come to era number 3: Darnell Elementary. This place has been my home for 13 years and it is a bittersweet departure...sweet with some things and bitter with others. But with any long period at a workplace, that just happens.

   I arrived at Darnell in October of 2011, still shaken from my time at Gilbert, which had just ended a day or so before. I was assigned to 4th grade, a classroom where a long term sub had been teaching for over a month. A lot of people working there were not sure about this new guy at first. Neither were the bosses and they soon decided to get this traumatized guy some help and encouragement, and by the year's end...my 10th one in the Clark County School District...I was feeling much better about myself and more confident in my teaching.

   In the next year, I was put in a different classroom (with windows) and now doing 2nd grade. I was also with a solid team who helped me get on the right track quickly. Later in the year, I was invited to take part in a school play, part of a series actually, that helped kids to learn life skills. I was so eager to get into it that I MEMORIZED my lines, not realizing that it was readers theater and that I could have my script in my hand. I'm not sure if I impressed or scared my colleagues then, but the play served as a good way for all of the staff and kids to know who Mr. Moore was.

   In that same year, my wife thought it would be a good idea for the kids to write letters to the namesake of our school. The day before Christmas break of 2012, my class and I got a visit from Dr. Marshall Darnell and his wife, thanking us for our letters. It was then that I knew that I had found my new happy home. On top of that, our art teacher Frank who led the televised morning announcements, wore black on my 40th birthday and told everyone to bow their heads in respect of my 40th!  I will miss Frank next year dearly!

   The following year, I was asked to move classrooms but stay in the same pod. I would teach second grade in that windowless room for 3 years before being asked if I would move out to the portables. Thatwas a good move because the portables had great and controllable AC! I would teach 2nd for two more years and then first for one year.

   In all this time I became a de facto producer of the life skills plays as well as a co-producer of the televised announcements before the studio shut down in favor of intercom announcements in 2015. As a lot of the school's TVs were breaking down ne by one, this was a good move. The life skills plays were pretty much fizzling out due to staff reluctance to participate and I had to cancel our early 2019 show...that one was a bummer. I also became the intercom announcer in the fall of 2018, a position I'd cherish for the next 5 years. During COVID I recorded announcements and shared them with teachers to play to their class.

   In 2019, I was asked (2 weeks before teachers reported back to work) to take on 5th grade in a class rotation among 3 teachers experiment. I started in the portable, but by October it was clear that the system did not work in the switching of classes so I moved into the 50s pod. It was still a disastrous system, but we stuck by it right up to March 13 before we all went out on COVID. For the 2020-21 school year, I moved into the room 2 doors down that had windows, evne though I would be the sole occupant for the next almost 7 months. When COVID cases got really bad, we all had to teach from home starting in November. We were allowed to come back in by late January if we followed the pandemic protocols.

   In 2023 I went back to first grade by my request for a younger grade. In terms of the kids, it has been a good year, but a lot of factors were in place that made me decide to seek a new school. One of them was a desire to be closer to home and my daughter's high school, since my morning commute was 17 miles this year. Another was the opportunity to finally teach 3rd grade. As for other factors, well, they are not for public eyes.

   In all this time, I had the pleasure of having my daughter Natalie at Darnell for 5 years. She had some really great teachers during that time, her favorite being Mr. Games. Everyone who worked at Darnell got to know her since she was 2 years old and often coming at the end of the day.

   When I first came to Darnell, Mrs Cobb was the principal. She was a warm, friendly boss who accepted me for who the quirky person I was. The assistant principal was Ms. Ivey until 2013, then Dr. Fisher from 2013 to 2015, Mrs. Durham from 2015 to 2019, Mrs. Ivey again from 2019 to 2023, and then Mrs. Cano from 2023 to the present. I would say the assistant principal I had the best relationship with was Ms. Ivey.

   Mrs. Cobb retired in late 2022 (she gave us a week's notice as it was right before Christmas break). An interim boss came in for a month or so while a search commenced. In February, Ms. Gray was our new principal. She was a lot firmer and more direct than Mrs. Cobb...and with our school population of kids and parents, this was an asset. 

   In all of these 13 years, I have met and worked with some good people. Of course, not everyone is a friend, at least outside the school walls. With some I have met for lunch, had drinks at a local bar, did trivia, practiced acting with a local improv group, came to their house for a holiday party, and once even came over just to swim. With most others, I worked with them, and that was it, much like any other workplace.

   I shall walk away form Darnell knowing I spent some good quality time of my life there, and now I look forward to a new adventure.

   

Valley of Opportunity

   

When one hears the name 'hidden valley', they might assume someone is on a salad dressing kick. Of course, there are many valleys that are hidden because they are off the beaten to death path. Often they contain no paved roads and just might be home to a person of means who wishes to eschew general human contact. There are times I envy those who can attain that kind of freedom.

There is one sort-of hidden valley in the Mojave Desert that is of some note. It holds a town that Vickie and I like to frequent when we can afford it. Before a couple of major developments in the 20th Century, this valley was quite barren of human activity...once again, not such a bad thing. This valley is known as the Colorado River Valley.

Aside from the presence of the indigenous Mojave people of the region for centuries, construction of the Davis Dam on the Colorado River between 1942 and 1953 required an encampment of workers, similar to how Boulder City in Nevada housed the workers of Boulder Dam, later renamed Hoover Dam. That settlement would later grow into a town called Bullhead City in Arizona. Davis Dam is another cross-river connection between Nevada and Arizona, much like Hoover Dam 70 miles north.

The other major development in the valley began in 1964 when Minnesota-born Don Laughlin, fresh from selling his 101 Club in North Las Vegas, flew over the desolate valley and saw an opportunity. He bought a boarded up old motel in an area then known as Tri State (California-Nevada-Arizona) and within 2 years remodeled it to have a small restaurant selling 98 cent all-you-can eat chicken dinners and a small group of slots. Within decades, Don Laughlin had built that small outfit into a major hotel-casino boasting many slots, table games, fine restaurants, a top notch bowling alley, and 6-screen movie theater as well as a venue for top comedy and music artists. The town containing his casino, Laughlin, was given its name by a fellow Irish postal worker who said the place needed a name so Don could receive mail. The town of Laughlin, Nevada now holds several casino-hotels on Casino Drive and has expanded to a small but growing desert community outside the casino row, although many residents work in the hotel-casino business as do residents of Bullhead City.

At one time, people had to cross the Davis Dam and then head south from Arizona to reach Laughlin, but Mr. Laughlin funded a modest highway bridge to funnel traffic across the Colorado River in 1987.

However, Bullhead City and Laughlin are just the northern end of the Colorado River Valley, if the most populated. On the Arizona side, AZ highway 95 in Bullhead stretches a few miles south and then passes through Fort Mohave. Miles south, the area is still populated here and there, though not centrally, until AZ 95 crosses a modest bridge over the river into Needles, California.

Ah, Needles! Sadly, this is what I consider to be the armpit of the Colorado River Valley. California holds only a small part of the valley and does not appear to value it in terms of state and/or county government. Another aspect of Needles is that it is a relic of the old route 66, a ghost that is more supported and honored in Arizona. When I 40 supplanted 66, much local business was hurt, and the interstate bisects the town into 2 equally run-down parts. The funny thing is that the locals of Needles don't get their gas in their own overpriced town, they get it in Arizona, where the nearest station is about $3 a gallon less.

Actually, if one follows 40 into Arizona, the first exit is for old 66 into its original roots of Topock and Golden Shores before heading northeast into the high hills for Oatman, a dangerous road that was rerouted to safer areas in 1953. From Golden Shores, there is a small network of roads heading back to AZ 95, connecting that part of Arizona well.

On the Nevada side, NV 163 takes drivers from US 95 (AZ 95's parent route) just north of the CA-NV (within a mile in fact) to Laughlin. Just west of Laughlin, there is a turnoff for Needles Highway, a really neat unnumbered desert road also leading to the armpit town. The Nevada portion is well maintained, the California portion is bumpier. Along the way, the Needles Highway passes through the residential portion of Laughlin. Also, there are two access points to the Avi resort/hotel/casino. Vickie and I stayed there a few times, not bad in terms of a place to stay and play, but away from the wide part of the river that we love so much.

So what is it about this valley that I find so fascinating? For one thing, the people in the whole region seem friendlier than in the more metro Las Vegas. Definitely there is a more pronounced population of the "desert rat" so commonly mentioned by those who pass through and stupidly buy the gas off I 40. Also I just find this "hidden valley" so full of potential riches in terms of story. The scenery on all sides is spectacular, with many of the mountains so ruggedly carved ages ago by the then-wilder Colorado River.

Vickie and I love taking the Celebration Cruise every time we go to Laughlin. It gives a rich history of the river and Don Laughlin (a man so worth a movie by himself) that I never tire of. We play slots sometimes but I know I am a horrible gambler while Vickie often finds small luck. We also cross into Arizona to fill up at the Sam's Club so visible from the Laughlin hotel rooms and swing into central Bullhead to the Pizza Hut where one can still sit and dine. Bullhead lacks a distinct center, and sometimes just driving down AZ 95 is a joy in itself.

The valley is just 100 miles from Vegas via NV 163 and US 95, 132 miles from Vegas via AZ 68 and US 93, about 33 miles from Kingman AZ (a great 66 mecca!) and if you feel adventurous, 30 miles from Oatman, a home to burros and 66 history and good souvenirs...and if you absolutely need to see Needles, by golly go see it. The Wagon Wheel Restaurant is pretty good.



In closing, I highly recommend this area as a desert side trip or even main event as there is a lot to see, do, and just experience and enjoy. Where you get your gas is your own business.

6 Days of the Redford Madness

       When you hear the name Robert Redford, what comes to mind? Now, those born in the late 1980s and beyond will probably think he is some obscure guy who ran for President or even WAS President ( go with me on this one, I have had many a student who thought Martin Luther King Jr was a President as well). To folks in my generation (born 1972-75) know Robert Redford as a pretty fun actor to watch, even when he is trying to play darmatic.  Unlike Dick Clark (the guy who explored the Louisiana Territory with a guiy named Mary Weather), Redford let himself age gradually and still retain an air of youth.

   Redford's big time was in the late 1960s to about the mid 1980s before Adam Sandler redefined fun. His style was to either smile the pants of off his female audience (which he likely did often) or to look blank and baffled and still get the pants off. Thankfully for his SAG dues, he could also say his lines pretty well.

   I like a lot of his films. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, The Sting, The Great Gatsby, All the President's Men, , Brubaker, The Natural  Legal Eagles, and his sleazy horny millionaire flick An Indecent Proposal. Some duds (in my eyes) were The Way We Were and The Horse Whisperer...but those were due to his female pairings, not Redford himself.

   However, there is one movie that stands out a little more to me....and that I didn't list above...and that was adapted from a book (CURSE YOU MOORE, YOU DID IT AGAIN!).

   Sneaky bastard, aren't I? 

   The movie was Three Days of the Condor (1975), where he plays Joe Turner, (codename Condor) a CIA researcher working with other researchers to find plot and character elements in books and magazines and see if the CIA has either used them or could use them. One day when he is out getting lunch for his colleagues, a hit squad led by a cold  master assassin named Joubert, played by a stoic Max Von Sydow (and he still shines here in his calmness). Turner tries to get the CIA to bring him in, but corrupt agent Wickes in the Agency intercedes and tries to kill him in an alley. Joe later takes pretty Kathy Hale (played by Faye Dunaway) hostage to find shelter and they eventually have a fairly awkward fling before she helps him to begin unraveling the truth. He meets Agent Higgins (Cliff Robertson) who plays ambiguous good guy well here. You don't know if Higgins wants to help Joe or set him up to see who is behind it all. Using what he knows, Joe learns of Leonard Atwood, Deputy Director of Operaitons for the Middle East and confronts him, learning that one of Joe's submissions was too like a plot to take over oil fiield that Atwood was in charge of, so Atwood had Joe's entire team killed to cover it up. Joubert intercedes and you think he will kill Joe (he tried once previously), but ends up shooting Atwood instead since he was an Agency "embarrassment". Joubert assures Joe that he no longer has a contract to kill Joe, but that Joe is also now an embarrassment, and that the Agency will try to kill him through a friend or trusted associate. In the final scene, you can see that setup in play when Joe meets Higgins in Times Square, but he has already planned for that.

   The movie appears to have been quickly adapted from its 1974 parent Six Days of the Condor. I really enjoyed the book, mostly because the print was large enough for these aging eyes and it was only 192 pages.

   What baffles me is that aside from a few minor characters, all of the major names were changed for the movie. Joe Turner evolved from Ronald Malcolm, Kathy Hale grew from Wendy Ross, Joubert was originally Maronick, Leonard Atwood was originally Robert Atwood, and there is no direct source evolving into Higgins, though a man named Powell who is working with the liaison group 54/12 comes close.

   Aside from names, the plot remains mostly the same except for the story motivation: instead of a book plot about oil being too close to the Agency's plans, it was about 2 missing book boxes that the new accountant couldn't find and he trtagically reported it. The missing boxes (as Maronick explains to Malcolm) contained hard drugs form southeast Asia. Also, Wendy Ross almost immediately (after her initial scare) befriends Malcolm and theyt have sex often. Unfortunately, when she aids Malcom in a game of disguise cat and mouse, Maronick spots her  Malcolm when her wig falls off and shoots hewr nearly fatally.

   Instead of Malcolm infiltrating Atwood's house, he is ambushed there, then drugged to get the truth out, then taken outside to be killed. However, Maronick on Agency orders kills Malcolm's would be killer and leaves Malcolm to do with Atwood what he likes. Maronick is much colder in the book than Joubert in the movie, and advises Malcolm to stay in research as his luck is running out. Malcolm, seeking revenge for Wendy's shooting, kills Maronick at Washington National Airport.

   What is so good about the book is that it was so easily adaptable into a movie. I can understand why the drugs in southeast Asia plot had to change, since Vietnam was a dirty subject when the movie was being made. I am baffled by the name changes. The parts where the 54/12 string pullers were trying to bring in Malcolm or set him up ran a bit long, but Malcolm's parts move fast. I can easily see Redford in the Malcolm role as I read it.

   When Bryan, oh when will you spare us these book/movie comparison-reviews? 

   Not as long as I can keep typing.

Uh, The 90s, Like, Suck, Dude! No Way!!

    

   I used to think the 90s sucked.

   This morning, I looked outside upon waking up and saw how rainy and gray it was. A perfect day to lounge about and stay off my feet. Since I had a toenail removed Friday, a healing day made sense. Then came in our daughter who complained that we never take her to our favorite breakfast place anymore. As I didn't feel like making eggs or anything else just yet, I acquiesced and put on my Beavis and Butthead pajamas...Lou's Diner workers know me, so nobody to impress today.

   Upon arrival, there was the usualy 15-20 minute wait since Lou's is quite popular these days. While I sat waiting and Natalie and Vickie went to the antique shop to wait in warmth, a guy sitting near me noticed my "trendy" pajama pants with admiration and I mentioned my recent acquisition of all episodes dating back to its 1992 pilot. I also mentioned us listening to Denis Leary's classic "Asshole" song from 1993. As the brief nostalgic dialogue ended, I sat for a few more minutes and thought a lot about that period of life as I saw it.

   I was, and am currently, generally not what people would consider hip or cool, at least not when it comes to crowds. Individuals will compliment me on a shirt I am wearing, but then I defer to Vickie's good sense of me and realize that if it weren't for her, I'd have probably 2 pairs of pants and a few solid polo shirts along with a month of underwear and socks. 

   In fact, I never was really cool as a person, definitely not in childhood, even less in high school, maybe a tad cooler in college in a place where nobody really knew me yet and I could fake them out temporarily. This was especially true when it came to music and the current trends. I didn't really watch MTV much, so I didn't get into the music video thing regularly. So if you were to ask me what the coolest songs of 1987 or 1988 were, I'd probably name songs from movies like Top Gun or Dirty Dancing. I was that way for some time, being several cars behind the cool pole position of life.

   Sometimes, though, there is a magical moment where one is suddenly caught up on a few things. This happened in late 1993 for me. I had just turned 21 and was looking for a brief respite from San Diego. I had just recently started back at school upon establishing a year of residency with a lot of go-nowhere part time jobs and a ton of loneliness. School helped a bit with that but I was looking forward to a "going back home" feeling so to speak.

   My high school buddy Tris said there was room at his house since his mom was out of town, so I had asked for my big Christmas present to be a trip back to good ol Reading, PA.

   Wait...where? some of you are asking. You wanted to go away from comfy-in-the-winter San Diego to visit wintry hell eastern Pennsylvania?

   In a word, yes! San Diego did not feel like home at all...and quite frankly it would never achieve that status, neither would Sonoma County for my 8 year residency up there, though I will say that in terms of scenery, I do have a place in my heart for Northern Cal. The problem is, aside from parents and aunt and some scattered family, I had no people in San Diego to speak of, no lasting memory to this day of peers who warmed my heart for a lifetime. I then think of Berks County and a flood of memories, good and bad, come to me, and that is where I will ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS think of as home, even though I know 30 plus years have passed since I moved away and things definitely changed.

   In late 1993, I know of a lot of people who were still there: Tris, Jeremy Bitz, Derek Coller and his then girl Kelly Beissel, Zach Hunchar, and several old classmates I had known for years. Not all of the classmates were precisely friends but I knew who they were and what they were about, and I felt safe with them. Even if they joshed around with me about my lack of with-it-ness at times, I felt I could be myself with them.

   Now, during this visit, I came into contact with some pop culture elements that I had heart faint rumblings about, but did not actually experience. Like I said, I hung out with about nobody except my parents, and they were not exactly people I wanted to be around much of the time, especially as their marriage was in the early stages of deterioration.

   These pop culture elements were Beavis and Butthead, Denis Leary, and The Jerky Boys. I would definitely get more into Beavis and Butthead when I went away to college at Sonoma State, since a lot of us would watch it at its 11:00 time slot nightly. On New Year's Eve at Rick Klingaman's house, I got a taste of Denis Leary's stand-up and The Jerky Boys' prank calls. I bought some when I got back to San Diego and my dad found The Jerky Boys absolutely hilarious. So did more than a few college friends later on. Somehow that kind of comedy was so east coast that many of the west coasters found it funny but also not their precise style. 

   I am still east coast and will remain so.

   Apart from that little awakening, I still missed out on a lot of 90s in terms of music. I was listening to a lot of classic rock and oldies for much of the decade. The Doors were and still are a major favorite. It actually was not until I met Vickie that I got more acquainted with Pearl Jam, 9 Inch Nails, Alice in Chains, Foo Fighters, Weezer, No Doubt, Metallica, and Stone Temple Pilots, among others. I am still behind the times, but after listening to what is out there now, I am quite glad to be stuck in the past, even if it is 30-40 years past. I can live with that easily.

   The 90s didn't really suck, they just had to wait a while for me to catch up.

A Shepherd's Pie Story

    Back in December, I saw that the classic film A Christmas Story was playing in one of our many smoke-filled local casino movie theatres, and Vickie was quite up for it. I did not get a chance to see it in 1983, opting for multiple viewings of  Return of the Jedi that year. 

   There is something about catching a movie one has seen a few thousand times on TV in the actual theatre, or seeing a classic you saw in the theatre years before (the original trilogy and Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan come to mind. And as it was just a week before our greatly anticipated Christmas break, the timing could not have been better.

   There was a short documentary before the film started, with a bit on creator Jean Shepherd and his radio and writing career. And of course, in the opening credits, there was a "based on" notation about a book called In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash. Of course, I knew I wanted to read the book. I ALWAYS want to read the book!

BRYAN, you son of a sea jackal, you TRICKED us into reading another one of your book reviews!

Yes I did, and nobody forced you, so now that you are here...

   The book, published in 1966, tells a LOT of tales, some short, many long and extended. One thing I noticed was that despite the American movie classic taking place in 1943, Jean Shepherd as his semi-autobiographical character Ralphie, grew up in the Great Depression, and would have been 22 in the movie's setting.

   The setting itself is in fictional Hohman, Indiana, a substitute for Hammond, even though Shepherd openly writes that Hohman is in real-life Lake County, Hohman is a true industrial town where the air is congested with all sorts of chemical fumes and the local water from regional lakes to the southern tip of Lake Michigan are all quite unworthy of human touch even though the locals have nothing else so they partake in boating and fishing...both activities are excuses to get drunk on beer.

   As the book begins, adult Ralph Parker is returning to Hohman from New York after what is assumed to be more than a decade away on a writing assignment for work about "returning home"...a topic I visit many times myself. Ralph's first stop is Flick's Tavern, where his childhood friend Flick is owner, having taken over from his dad. The reader gets no sense of Flick ever being a gullible kid who gets his tongue stuck to a frozen pole. Rather, I got the idea that Flick is from Hohman and will die in Hohman when his time comes.

   I think we all know people like that, though. Just about every town in America (and around the world, too) have their characters who never leave the 20 mile radius of home for more than a week unless forced to. I know of a lot of my friends and classmates in Berks County who really never got out...and when you are in a place where all of the creature comforts and close people are near to you, why would one leave?

   It is apparent that Ralph has been out east for some time and has lost the slow easy way of the Midwest chatter, and somewhat rudely interrupts Flick on one occasion so he can say what he wants to say.

   A few tales from the classic movie are in the book, such as the Red Ryder BB gun pursuit, the Little Orphan Annie decoder ring/Ovaltine story, the infamous leg lamp, the fight with the yellow-eyed neighborhood bully, and a brief bit on the wax teeth that the teacher takes away from the class. Apart from that, there are other stories contained within that tell not only of Ralphie but of life in the Depression. Much of it is funny, but other parts are fairly sad...yet all well written. I learned a bit of narrative style from Shepherd these past few weeks (I generally read at night and often fall asleep mid chapter so it takes me a while).

   One sad part was a brief mention of Schwartz's plane going down over Italy during what is assumed to be World War 2 and Schwartz not being found. Another was a bit on the local assessor, who came into homes and took inventory of a home's furnishings and laid an overall tax value to be collected. Ralphie's family was spared, but another family, a close neighbor, had defaulted on his taxes and his complete furnishings from furniture to tools were auctioned off by the sheriff. The family moved away and never returned. I guess the eerie part of this is that during the Depression, the various local and state governments didin't care about the people. I also took from this part that it was during the Hoover era where nobody knew what was what just yet...just conjecture.

   I am glad that I requested this book as a Christmas present. As I said, it was a great lesson for me in narrative style and telling honest growing up stories with a twinkle of the eye. Shepherd seems to me a person who felt lucky to get out of the industrial life he would have been prisoner to if he had stayed in Indiana. As for me...I have other tales to tell, so don't be impatient.

 You are hereby released!

   

   

   

Basement Generation 2.0

    A long time ago I wrote a piece called "The Basement Generation", based entirely on a conversation I overheard with 2 colleagues. It wasn't far off, and was based on the premise that the youth of then (2013) would be doomed to live in their parents' basements...that is, for those who are fortunate to have a basement to live in.

   When I think of a functional living quarters basement, I think of 2 places. One is my childhood friend Jeremy's house in West Lawn,Pennsylvania. There was sufficient moving around space, a small bar, TV setup, mini fridge, and computer area...plus his dad's generous Playboy magazine collection. The other is my cousin Craig's house in the UP of Michigan. Almost like Jeremy's except it actually has a bed...not sure about the magazines.

   Sadly, the western states tend not to have much in the way of basements in their residences. Even more, I think the youith of the western states are more prone to be living with the folks well into their late 20s or even early 30s.

   As I have seen and heard much more in my profession in the last 11 years, I have come to the non-scientific conclusion that the kids are victims of an overprotective system that somehow evolved from a tougher atmosphere that eroded throughout the decades.

   "Bryan, you are full of it!", you may say. Hell, my wife says it frequently, so I am used to it. All of that said, there is so much environmental evidence out there to support my claim.

   Now, before I begin, I should defend that "western states" bit from earlier. To me, the western states are the Rockies and west from there. I could even narrow it to the 50-100 miles of land heading east from the Pacific coastline, but I've met a few from Idaho and Colorado and certainly from Nevada to broaden the scope. 

   Back where I grew up in eastern Pennsylvania, there was a general toughness and not giving a shit attitude about a lot of things, at least when I was there. I can't speak for 32 years later. Nobody really fought over politics or gun rights or anything that infects society today...until you spoke badly about Penn State football. If you had the cahones to do that, you were lucky to get a ten second head start before you lost somet5hing vital, the least of which was your bladder. 

Parents generally kicked you out of the house after breakfast and did not expect to see you again until at least 4pm if not later.

Playgrounds and parks had a metal-based system of swings, monkey bars, merry go rounds, and slides that supported emotional and physical growth. If you flew off, you flew off. There was grass. You dusted yourself off (if needed) and went back to it. If you sustained a head or extremity injury, it might have been a few days before try number 2.

The schools had a pretty easy system to figure out. If you sat and listened and took notes, you had a shot at some good grades. If not, it was likely because you were talking and/or dicking around. An A was 90-100%, a B was 80-89, a C was 70-79, a D was 60-69, and an E/F was the lower 59%. I will be honest here, in my 12th grade classes, I was not really into the school thing anymore and therefore tuned out trigonometry and physics...getting Ds regularly in both classes. On a few trig tests I received a generous 20% and knew why.

Given all of that and knowing that I was far from the toughest bunch, I managed to hold my own. I didn't go out of my way to piss people off, but due to my nerdish nature I was a pretty easy pick-on target. Yet I never had the crap beat out of me or had my head put in the toilet for a ceremonial swirly. In all, I had a good time of it growing up, and was fairly prepared to take on adult life later on...fairly being the key word.

Let's fast forward about 7 years after graduation, when I was a new substitute teacher in Sonoma County, California. I noticed a general trend of what I considered odd behaviors, with both kids and their parents. Now, I was a fairly sensitive guy (and not the kind women purportedly go for) but I was getting a hint of OVERsensitivity. Even third and fourth graders seemed to have a shield at 30% strength. Some parents kept their kids home if they knew there was a sub. More than one parent came up to me and told me how the day would go for their darling kid, damn the others, and if I stepped one little bit out of focus, the principal would be notified. Out of my 4 1/2 years of subbing in many elementary schools in many districts, I was taken off the list of only 2 schools and that was in one district (Santa Rosa City Schools). Otherwise, a good track record.

Once I was truly immersed in the education system as a full time teacher in Las Vegas, I saw so many changes. 

The once vibrant playgrounds had evolved into a plastic mesh of just a small spiral slide and some climb-across bars...usually accompanied by an oil-based spongy base so there would be no owies. The little ones are generally ok with this, but by 3rd grade it's a waste of space and offers little in the way of physical and emotional growth.

Even if a kid receives one of my classic trig test grades, the minimum I can give is 50%. Not sure who this helps in the long run.

And then comes the tech, and here is where it gets what I consider tragic.

I've never been a supporter of being best friends with one's child. It is good to have a healthy and positive relationship for sure, but when discipline erodes in favor of making sure your kid likes you no matter what, it infects the child's growth as well as the parent's own well being. On the flip side, making what is essentially a public utility a parental substitute is also damaging.

I lead the tech bit with that because the tech has become of very essence of many children's lives. We go into restaurants and see some kids and their families interacting, and other kids playing on a device while the adults talk or be on their own devices. 

30 years ago the Internet was an new thing, now kids are planning a career as a web influencer or professional gamer or professional Youtuber...thinking it will make them millions instantly based on what they see on various social media sites.

And on top of the tech, there is a growing society of fear. Fear of COVID and germs in general is what I have noticed especially. Fear of their child being labeled as having something like ADHD. School shootings and the public threats of such have not helped matters any. 

I wish I could go into the "nonbinary" realm, but I know so little I will just stay in my lane...but much of that controversial realm fits what I am getting at.

I have seen social media posts that say parents and schools should not try to prepare their kids for a world that no longer exists...and to a large extent that world of the child growing into a mature adult ready to take on the world in their early 20s does NOT exist, with a few exceptions, those being privileged expensive prep school students who are just waiting for their turn in line to control government or industry or both. Or, there are the kids who have firm goals in mind for when they get out of high school and plan ahead. Those cases are getting rarer and rarer, but they do exist.

As for the rest, it will be a tough road, for even the parents who work for lucrative companies and/or industries are finding more and more that the employer contributions to retirement and/or health care are getting slimmer and slimmer due to trying times or just plain corporate greed. Add to that just plain inflation. And if the kids are living in the basement or just never left their room, supporting them just with food and health care will be a tough cookie to crumble.

Sadly, much of this was avoidable years ago when the biggest tech advancement was the DVD. Yet so many "easy" roads were offered since then in the way of affordable tech and participation trophies and what not that the instant gratification was practically pre-destined. In fact, the kids I taught 21 years ago are parents now, and the trend I saw the seeds of then are fully grown with their kids...and those roots are so firmly entrenched that unless there is a "world code" depicted in "Escape From L.A." where Snake Plissken shuts everything down with one button push, the problem will no longer be a problem...it'll be just life.

Remember my dream about returning to 1972? It has not disappeared.

The Grandest of Grandparents, part 1

    Lately, I've been getting quite introspective.Well, I've ALWAYS been pretty inner as a person, but a few life circumstances and such have gotten me trying to comprehend the why of it all. Hey, I recently turned 51 and had a pretty shitty year being 50. Given that, I have been thinking about relationships in my life. I realized that some of the best ones I had growing up were with my grandparents!

   I was pretty lucky to have 2 sets of grandparents who lived an easy 5 minute walk from each other in residential Royal Oak, Michigan. Ah, Royal Oak! After we moved to Pennsylvania from Michigan in 1976, we took fairly frequent trips, especially during the holidays, to see both grandparent sets. And those trips were LONG! Why were they so long? If some of you 20th century folk may remember, there was a roughly 14 year period when the top speed limit on divided AND single lane highways was 55! I can Sammy Hagar now! 

   And when the drive from Berks County to Royal Oak was just over 550 miles and with food and gas stops, it was about a 12 hour trip. I will always remember knowing we were almost there when we passed the Shrine of the Little Flower at 12 Mile and Woodward, then crossed under the Grand Trunk railroad bridge, I didin't care which house we were going to, we were seeing my favorite people in the world then!

   There were, as I said, 2 sets: one on Alicia Court and the other on Vinsetta Boulevard. Let me begin with the Alicia Court set, my mom's parents.

   When I was a little kid, they were referred to as Monny and Bompa (my sister called them that when she was little), but I dropped that when I was 13 and called them Grandma and Grandpa. Their house had a reddish exterior and was a single level with a basement. A decent size living room was where we opened Christmas presents and watched TV. Down in the basement was my grandfather's workbench and tools, a ping pong table, and a little "cocktail lounge" complete with bar and cash register. Oh, the fun my sister and I had there!

   My Grandma Jo was a good person, but definitely had no patience for kid nonsense. I remember her smacking me once or twice for something, but that was as negatrive as it got. I remember liking anything she cooked and eating in the dining area set off from the living room. On that same table we would play card games after dinner. We would often go to the store together for something or another. When I was with both her and Grandpa when I was little, I was allowed to sit on the fron armrest between them.

   Grandpa Fitz (full name Leighton Deck Fitzmorris) was probably my favorite of all. We just had good talks about pretty much everything. Like my grandma, he also had a short patience for nonsense but generally smiled at my silliness. 

I remember this brand of peanut butter being in their pantry. I think it was a Michigan brand like Saunder's chocolate because I have not seen it in decades. By the way, Grandpa Fitz had a regular diet of bread and peanut butter, often eating it in place of what was being served. Oh, and Grandma Jo's potato chip cookies and her French toast! I can almost taste it all again!

   The Fitzmorris's were often our caregivers when there was serious business at the Moore household...which to this day seemed more often than not. When I went with my dad to check on how Bompa Moore was doing in the hospital in 1978, Grandma Jo and Grandpa Fitz watched over me most of one day. When Nana Moore passed in 1981, they took care of us. At that point it was easier as Grandpa had retired the previous year. They took us to the Ren Center in downtown Detroit, Belle Isle, and a short turn into Windsor, Ontario. 

    Many a visit with them also included their good friend Gerry Matter (whom I called Aunt Gerry), who lived about ten minutes away in a condo complex that had a swimming pool. Gerry accompanied them on trips often, especially to our house in Wernersville. Later on in life I came to wonder why she was with them and got more than the hint of a love triangle, but I'm not the National Enquirer and only deal in facts...as far as you know.

   If we were visiting in the summer, Grandpa would fire up the grill and put on chicken, and we'd eat at a picnic table in an enclosed porch. 

   Frequent visitors to their house were Gerry, her daughter Pat, and sons Mike and Richard. Friends Becky and Clayton Hardenburgh also came along with Aunt Phyllis and Uncle Bob, Tim and Mike Fitzmorris, and various members of my grandma's fellow soap opera watchers in the afternoons.

   But that is just the Michigan end of things...

   Grandma and Grandpa often came to Pennsylvania as well. When we lived in Wernersville, they slept on the fold-out sofa bed in the family room and if Gerry was accompanying, she slept with Kristin. Sometimes if my mom and dad were away together, the grandparents would come and watch us. 

   When I was 4 and 5, when they were visiting, Grandpa and I would go the airport and watch planes land and take off for a bit, then sit in the airport bar where I would have a soda and he would enjoy a whiskey sour. A few of them, actually. Then he and I would drive more. I can see the shock and horror in your faces but he was a functional alcoholic. He stopped drinking in 1978. The bar visits were replaced with McDonald's sundaes.

   After Nana Moore died, we stopped our Michigan Christmases, ad the Fitzmorrises came to us in 1981, 1982, 1984, and 1986. We began a new Christmas Eve tradition where we invited our friends the Kirkners over and had snacks that included peel and eat shrimp from the local Adelphia seafood market. I was glad my grandparents got to share in that for a few years.

   Just like in Wernersville, they would watch us in our Whitfield house whne my parents were away, sometimes the both of them, other times just Grandma Jo. On one of those visits, I came down with pink eye and she got me to the doctor and got some meds and took care of me for the week. She really was a good nurse when the opportunity came. 

   In late 1986, my grandparents decided they didn't want to upkeep a house anymore so they sold it and moved into an apartment in Troy, just 4 miles up Crooks Road ("Where all the crooks live", Grandpa often joked). I saw the place for the first time just after they moved there when Bompa Moore died. That was a tough time for me at 14, but my grandparents really took care of me on that one.

   In mid 1988, Grandpa Fitz was diagnosed with cancer. It took him within 6 months, and I got the opportunity to see him one last time before he passed in October.

   In years since, I've come to understand there was a darkness to their marriage as years passed, but 46 years isn't all roses for many others, either. What we see in others and experience within ourselves is often quite polar...and at the same time connective if we think it right. 

   A year or so after Grandpa Fitz died, Grandma Jo was reunited with a high school beau named Bob Shade and got married to him in June of 1990. Bob was ok, and after I began teaching, we began to have some commonalities to talk about as he'd been an instructor in the Navy.

   Grandma and I continued to be close right up to her death in early 2011. She paid for my return to school in 2000 to train to be a teacher. After I graduated and went through a depressed period of not looking for teaching jobs and going back to substituting instead, she sent me a SCATHING email that snapped me right out of it and got me actively looking. I think that email, along with the French toast and nursing me back to health, are what I smile about when I think of her.

   When Vickie met her at Mom and Don's wedding, Vickie told her that she was adopting her as her grandma as Vickie's had long passed. You could not have seen a happier smile from Grandma Jo! 

   She got to see Natalie a few times when Natalie was an infant, but passed away when Natalie was 18 months, so my daughter has no recollection of her great grandma.

   I miss those two people a lot. Grandpa Fitz will definitely be a role model (of many) when and if I become a grandfather.