Central Standard

Puppy Concerns

2009-12-10T10:37:00.002-06:00

I really can't explain it, but, just as Monkey and I headed to bed for a long winter's nap, we got the news that school was canceled again, today. I know that three days off is going to play heck with the end of the term (especially since this is an already too-short eight week term), but, like I have said before, we'll just have to deal with that. The residential streets are still pretty hard to navigate, and the temperature at 9AM was still only two above zero, so I can see why they might have erred on the side of caution. I am still surprised.

Today, I am taking the opportunity to get the puppy dog a vet appointment. He seems generally okay, but he has lately been hacking a lot, like he has some bad chest congestion. Monkey, a concerned parent, as always, is worried, so, I am taking him to see his doctor this afternoon. Maybe she'll tell us to "put some 'Tussin on it," in the immortal medical advice of Chris Rock.

Other than that, since I have already had two days to catch up, I have little to do, really. I suppose I'll do some reading. Boy, it's been tough to be me this week.

It's Wednesday. It's Not Dark. It's Not Snowing.

2009-12-09T13:29:00.003-06:00

The blizzard has passed. The driveway is cleared. The walks are cleared. The cars are dug out. The sun is shining, making it abundantly bright and clear what makes us love snow, even when we are humping our three thousandth shovelful onto a pile as tall as our head.

The dog has carved out a thin path from the backdoor to an acceptable post, but the depth of the snow has made him reticent to explore more. Monkey and I have taken this extra time off to get some holiday-type chores accomplished. We hope to venture out later today to pick up the TV we paid for on Saturday.

We will most likely be back to normal tomorrow, but, with winter break coming at the end of next week, I must selfishly say that I have truly loved having these two days to get my head right. I hope that we can finish the next ten days stronger, more focused, and more pleasantly than things were shaping up after the Thanksgiving weekend.

Bring it on!

It's Tuesday. It's Dark. It's Snowing.

2009-12-08T17:19:00.002-06:00

Snow day is drawing to a close. Spent the day reading, sitting by the fire, shoveling the drive way--you know, those sorts of snow day things. Monkey and I are currently watching AWAY WE GO (Monkey has taken a snack break). No word on tomorrow, but I expect we'll be back to school tomorrow.

*****NEWS FLASH*****

Monkey just checked the LPS website, and they just posted that we have NO SCHOOL tomorrow! This is unbelievable. Awesome. Troublesome when we finally do get back to school, but we shall let that simmer until Thursday.

And now, back to the video.

It's Monday. It's Dark. It's Snowing.

2009-12-07T22:15:00.003-06:00

It has been snowing for only a few hours, but LPS has called school for tomorrow. That is a nice treat, knowing about a snow day ahead of time. It's also nice to have a snow day on the day after PT conferences. It's a long day, and I appreciate not having to scurry around to get things ready in the morning after having left the building less than 12 hours before.

Monkey made a scrumptious butternut squash and peanut butter soup. It is a great recipe, especially since it has no iodide in it, making it ideal for Monkey while she is on her diet. But, it is so good, it is a good recipe for anytime.

Beside those two wonderful things, I am making myself crazy watching the Ravens-Packers game. I think if I never see another yellow penalty flag in my life, I will have seen enough in this game to last me.

Anyway, I'll be sleeping in tomorrow.

It' s Sunday. It's Dark. It's Snowing.

2009-12-06T17:55:00.006-06:00

December arrived determined to wipe away any memories of a balmy November. Global warming is not on any one's mind today, here in Cornopolis. It's pretty chilly out there, and the snow has been falling slowly since about ten this morning. The next couple days could bring us six inches or so, all told. It probably won't close schools tomorrow or Tuesday, but it might be enough to make Parent Teacher conferences pretty poorly attended tomorrow night. You know how much I love PT conferences, eh?

It has been a pretty good weekend. The Florida-Alabama game was enjoyable. It wasn't a great game, but I was pulling for the Crimson Tide. I don't know why, but I have always liked Alabama, even as a tyke. And, equally inexplicably, I have never been a fan of the Gators. But, now that I think about it, that's probably Steve Spurrier's fault. Anyway, the Big 12 Championship game WAS exciting (unless you like offense), and unexpectedly competitive. Monkey asked me before the game if I thought it was going to be ugly. I told her I thought it would be, but I didn't mean ugly in the way it turned out.

In addition, the Steelers lost to the Raiders today. I feel a twinge of guilt, getting joy from others misery (see Florida, as well), but, when it comes to the Steelers, I know that their fans get as much satisfaction out of watching the Ravens flounder as we get out of their losses. But, in a less spiteful vein, Pittsburgh's loss (which is kind of inconceivable...as well as their loss two weeks ago to KC) opens up one more door, ever so slightly, for Baltimore to make it into the playoffs. Of course, the Ravens need to win on Monday night, and they need to keep winning, and they need Jacksonville to slip up at some point, but, with Pittsburgh's loss, they have an opportunity to move closer to the wild card.

Okay, no more sports talk.

Except to say that I jammed my finger playing b-ball this afternoon (not in the snow, in the church gym), and now I can't get my wedding ring on. Monkey is distraught, but I am wearing it on my right hand, and hoping the swelling subsides sooner, rather than later.

Okay, no more sports talk.

Except to say that the local ESPN radio station pulled my favorite talk show off the air this week. It was a show called THE SPREAD, and it featured former Husker All American Jason Peter. I liked the show for several reasons. One, it was on during my drive home (when I drove), so it became part of my routine. Two, Peter, a former defensive tackle who played a few seasons with the Carolina Panthers, was an unpolished, but thoroughly entertaining radio personality. And, three, Peter, a New Jersey native, had one of those East Coast accents (and attitudes) that used to make me a little homesick. Why the show was canceled, no one knows, but one day they were on the air, and the next day, they were gone. That happens in radio a lot.

Okay, no more sports talk.

Saturday, Monkey and I bought a new TV. But, they didn't have it in stock, so we have to pick it up Tuesday. I was thoroughly bummed, since we were going slightly larger, slightly more 16:9 aspect ratio, slightly more 1080p, and slightly more 120Hz. In sum, we were moving into the 21st century of TV receivers. I was thinking we would bring our shiny new LCD TV home on Saturday, hook it up, watch the Big 12 Championship, and then, on Monday, we could dig on the Ravens' Monday night appearance in all of their bright and shining (in black and purple) glory. Unfortunately, that ain't gonna happen. I got over it, but Monkey will tell you, I was one grumpy dude at the grocery store. At least I can watch the Army-Navy game (Go Navy!) on Saturday on the new tube.

I know, that non-sports item was awfully sporty. And, I haven't said a word about NCAA basketball.

We Have a Winner!

2009-11-28T16:08:00.002-06:00

Well, I don't know what I will do with myself for the rest of the month, but I am finished with this year's awful first draft! Just made it to the end, and, if my last novel-in-a-month is any indication, this one needs about five more years of work before it even makes sense.

So, maybe I will be blogging a bit more frequently. Take that as a promise or a threat, but for today, I am tired of writing.

The Hair of November

2009-11-25T22:01:00.004-06:00

As I furiously try to catch up from my unproductive (writing-wise) weekend, a fortnight ago (I hope to sail past 40,000 words tonight and continue until I am at least on schedule, or ahead--time is getting short), I thought I would take a short break to update you on the one thing that I am able to do simultaneously with writing--growing facial hair.

This picture was taken yesterday. I decided to go with the smiling picture. The other one makes me look too much like John Bell Hood.

Dead or Canadian?

2009-11-18T06:50:00.003-06:00

The fatal injustice of it all. The true end of an era. The cosmic angle CA to Michael Jackson's AB and John Hughes' BC. The rule of three (sorry, Farrah, but you were of a different time). I refer to the startling news this morning that Ken Ober is dead.
Yet, Colin Quinn lives...go figure.

Significance That Signifies Nothing But More Work Ahead

2009-11-17T21:00:00.003-06:00

Hey! As I said earlier, I have been dedicating my writer muscles to NaNoWriMo, but I thought I would send out an update to those who might wander by here while I am occupied. This evening, only two days behind schedule, I reached the mid-point of this year's writing marathon. At 25,000 words, I don't know if I am at the midpoint of the novel itself, but I am at the midpoint of the prescribed monthly word count quota of 50,000. And, since I must say, it feels good!

Also, a shout out to Boring Election, who is also endeavoring to complete a 50,000 word marathon this month. Wish us luck, folks (and think about giving it a try yourself, next year)!

November, The Bastard

2009-11-04T17:18:00.003-06:00

November is a month without a rep. The Great Pumpkin has forsaken us again, and left us drunk, wet, and cold, shivering in the pumpkin patch to welcome All Saints' Day alone. Kris Kringle is still many weeks away, with his thin reeded pipe, his coal-black boots, his snowy evenings, and his merry freaking self.

What does November have? The broad-breasted white turkey? Perhaps one of the stupidest birds around, bred only for the bodaciousness of its white meat? The hand? That which we all, as children, transmogrified into a rainbow colored version of the aforementioned whitey?

Really, it's not much.

So, as I spend most of this month making up sentences to turn into a novel that many people don't believe is possible, I won't be posting much. After all, what is there to say in November?

It's The Time Of The Season

2009-10-29T22:05:00.004-05:00

Our recent trip to visit the Ambassadors took us to several rural-type spots, as well as the more metropolitan haunts of the Twin Cities. One particular spot, Aamodt's Apple Farm, in Stillwater, was a festival of apples of many kinds. We couldn't help but bring back sacks full of Honeycrisp and (Monkey's new favorite) Keepsake apples, and we also loaded up with new candidates for pie-making, the Haralson.

This evening, Monkey and I sampled a fresh Haralson pie. It was awesome. I usually mix two apples together in my pies, one sweet and one tart. Haralson's are mostly tart, but this single apple pie is a winner.

We have enough apples for at least one more pie, which I may make next week. I might try a sweeter crust recipe. You know me...always experimenting.

Stay tuned for the results.

(Apple photo courtesy of Ms. Huntington's Webpage.)

Tires, Fowl, and Taxidermy

2009-10-27T19:38:00.003-05:00

As I am on Fall break, it was a better idea for me to take the Civic in for new tires than for Monkey to do it. After all, when I checked my calendar, today yawned with a galactic emptiness. When Monkey checked her calendar, she had an eye doctor's appointment (and some other stuff). Of course, that all changed when a co-worker invited me out to lunch with a crew. Mind you, this was no ordinary lunch, either, we were all bound for Unadilla (home of Unadilla Bill), for a chicken dinner at The Bar. I would meet my lunch mates at a local restaurant parking lot, from which we would make the not-too-long drive out to the east.

So, I drove up to the tire place to have four new tires (that Monkey had already ordered and paid for) put on the car. Lo and behold (I am still not completely clear on directions and locations around here) the tire place is right next to the restaurant where I was to meet up with everybody. I figured I could just roll the car from one little parking lot to the restaurant's big parking lot with little fanfare and be off when the time came. I dropped off the car and walked over to a coffee shop/bakery for a croissant, some coffee, and an hour of reading.

Two pages into my reading material, Monkey called me. The tire place had ordered the wrong tires. I'd have to come back some other time. I finished my coffee, marked my page, and picked up the car.

In hindsight, I could have stayed in the coffee shop for a half hour and then went to get the car. Then, I could have simply rolled over to the restaurant. But I didn't do that. I drove home, sat around for twenty minutes, and then drove back out to the restaurant. Stupid and wasteful, I know.

At the parking lot, I piled in with five other teachers and we rolled over to Unadilla (pop. 350ish). The Bar (the actual name of the bar where we had the chicken) was hopping for lunch. And we were by far the youngest patrons on this bright and breezy Tuesday. And the food was good and cheap. Where else are you going to get three pieces of chicken, mashed potatoes, corn, lemonade, lemon meringue pie (not awesome) and a cup of coffee for $8.50? That's right, some other small town in Nebraska. But, today, we got it in Unadilla.

And, in a touching (for me) extra to the day's journey, as I paid my tab at the cash register, I saw, above me on a shelf of honor, the preserved carcass of Unadilla Bill, the most famous groundhog in all of Nebraska. It was a beautiful moment, I must say.

Photo from The Omaha World Herald, accessed at http://www.flickr.com/photos/25702639@N02/2417277608

Time Flies Like an Arrow (Fruit Flies Like a Banana)

2009-10-20T17:47:00.002-05:00

The title of today's post is attributed to a master of linguistic humor, Groucho Marx. Another favorite of mine from him: "Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read." Funny, huh?

This is the last week of term one. Finals begin on Thursday. It has been a whirlwind start to the school year, some of which has been documented here. I will be glad to have a full quarter of the school year behind me, and I look forward to a week-long break (which includes a short trip to Minneapolis this weekend!).

As well, Sunday next brings us All Hallows Eve, the night before, yes, that's right, my friends, the beginning of National Novel Writing Month. I will be playing along, again this year. I invite all three of you to join me. It really is a wonderful thing to just zone out and write...try it!

That's all I got for now. Dinner time is upon us, and I am in need of some grub.

O Captain, My Captain!

2009-10-15T06:43:00.004-05:00

This is not the kind of news to start a day with, but I must make note of the passing of 80s wrestling icon (and video actor) "Captain" Lou Albano. Growing up, I don't think I ever saw Albano actually wrestle, he just barked into the mike and made wierd faces at the camera, but he was a huge personality in that world. In addition, he forever linked himself with 80s pop icon Cyndi Lauper, appearing in her video for "Girls Just Want to Have Fun."

Just add Lou to the list of pop culture icons heading to the big mansion in the sky, lately.

A Grover Day

2009-10-14T18:53:00.002-05:00

I can't help but feel like this some days.

A Psychedelic Presence Shining in the Park

2009-10-12T17:31:00.003-05:00

In the chill of an early October morning, dark except for the glow of streetlights and their reflections on the low-hanging clouds spitting rain above, a vehicle navigates its way through the desolate streets. Its headlights peel back the night before it, as it passes a hedgerow on one side and a burnt out lamp on the other. Suddenly (as is always the case) a small brown rabbit leaps from the hedge, looking to make it safely to the other side of the street. It swiftly penetrates the cone of light before the vehicle, and, in that moment, frightened and naturally skittish, it realizes that the large black tires of the vehicle are about to crush it. In a split second, it redirects its course just enough to avoid being pancaked, but its back leg has been caught. The momentum of the wheel spins the rabbit up and over, around at a blink-of-an-eye speed. It lands flat on its chest and rolls away from the car. It hops, at first, back toward the hedge, then, realizing that is not its intended destination, it again turns abruptly and zigzags across the street. Safely in the grass, it surveys the damage: a broken leg, broken ribs, probably some internal damage. The prognosis is not good.

Is the moral of this story that we should stay committed to our intentions, even if it means getting crushed under the balding treads of fate? After all, the rabbit’s end is the same—perhaps quicker under the tire than panting in the grass. Or is the moral that we should look both ways before we cross? Is it that speed kills, or that a five pound rabbit has little chance to survive an encounter with a 1000 pound vehicle?

Whatever the metaphor, Matt Bauer might not only see it for what it is, but he’d most likely turn it into an atmospheric song for voice and free time banjo.

Opening for Jolie Holland last night at the Waiting room, Bauer and banjo (or guitar) lulled the audience into attentiveness with an achingly earnest voice and minimalist fingering that sketched metaphor after metaphor involving buffalo, horse, fox, and mouse, alike. Joined for three numbers by Holland and her musical partner Grey Gerston, Bauer’s fleshed out compositions were no less starkly beautiful. And Holland got into the animal act by regaling the small crowd with an amusing joke about two whales sitting in a bar.

Bauer finished his set solo, then thanked the crowd for listening. Unlike many openers, he’d captured the attention of the crowd for his entire set (except for the sloppily drunk quartet in the corner who had lost the ability to modulate their voices at all); this may have been a function of his imposingly shaved head or his fiercely long beard, but, most likely, it was his heartfelt songs, his dancing cascades (or soporific drones) of notes , and his Bonnie Prince Billy-like ability to tell a story of rending from which we can not turn our ears.

After a brief pause for Gerston to tune a few instruments and stock the stage with water and wine, the headliner took the stage—just she and her musical mate—to play a languid and low-key set. The musicians had driven themselves from Denver, where they played the night before, and they looked a bit road weary, but the endearingly partisan crowd was full of encouragement. The set list, about an hour-long, included “Littlest Birds,” “Goodbye California,” “Old-fashioned Morphine,” “Alley Flowers,” and a few others, old and new. In addition, Holland played a cover of David Dondero’s “Real Tina Turner,” and a pair from Michael Hurley (one of which Gerston took the vocal lead on).

While Grey Gerston moved easily from solid-body to hollow-body to bass guitars, Holland was doing the same, as she occasionally laid her beautiful flat black Epiphone down to scratch beautifully on a uniquely-shaped fiddle. The instrumental variation aside, the key instrument to the evening was Holland’s voice, a slurry, sultry, trembling trademark that sounds less like it comes from her lungs than directly from her heart. And last night, despite the bone- and road-weariness, Holland’s voice sounded flawless. She has a sweet gift.

As well, she seems a sweet human being. In between songs, as she tuned her guitar, Holland mentioned that last time she was through town someone had given her a bracelet. “Kim?” she asked to the crowd. There, two rows back, Kim raised her hand. Holland was still wearing the bracelet. And, as can happen at some shows, this sweet exchange stayed a constant.

As Holland stumbled twice through the beginning bars of “The Future,” a song she clearly doesn’t play often live (and is played originally on piano—not guitar), but was, she said, “A request,” the crowd was at its most snuggly sweet. Holland apologized, only to be greeted from a shout from the crowd.

“That’s okay—just more show for us!”

Holland finished up her set and thanked the crowd for being “so freaking sweet.” After whale jokes, smoked-honey-dripping melodies, and earnest musical gaffes, the crowd had the same to say about her.

Free Breakfast!

2009-10-11T10:06:00.002-05:00

Monkey and I are off to local restaurant, Venue, to sample their new breakfast menu...for free. Our reservations are for 10:30, so I gotta go. I'll give you a review later, perhaps.

Hooray for free breakfast!

Are You Kidding Me?

2009-10-10T11:27:00.002-05:00

This was the view from our back porch this morning (notice the white stuff covering the grass).

Bad Sports

2009-10-09T18:15:00.004-05:00

A rough day for Missouri sports fans yesterday, as Matt Holiday booted the game-ending out, giving the Trolley Dodgers a chance to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. Being down 0-2 with your best pitchers waiting their next turn is not a good position for the Redbirds to find themselves in. Let's hope they can mine Busch Stadium for some comeback magic of their own.

As that game was coming to a drastic close, the Tigers were taking on the Huskers in a deluge of biblical proportions. The conditions, perhaps, led to one of the worst three quarters of football I have ever seen, albeit three quarters at the end of which the Tigers held a seemingly solid 12 point lead.

Then, the game took a turn the likes of which I may have only witnessed one other time in my life (2000 NFL season--Jets comeback from 30-7 4th quarter deficit to win in OT over Dolphins), as the Huskers scored three times in three and a half minutes to take the game from a Mizzou team that played really good defense for 45 minutes. Unfortunately, they were playing a team that played really good defense for 60 minutes.

The baseball result is hurtful, but, I must say that the football result really made my life easier. There was a moment, during the 3rd quarter, with Nebraska playing terribly on offense and trailing 12-0, when I thought about calling in sick today, since I didn't want to be around a bunch of miserable people. A Nebraska victory, even one preceded by 45 minutes of ineptitude, really put a spring in my co-workers' steps. So, I hope that my friends in CoMO can be magnanimous enough to see the positives in last night's stunning loss.

And, as I have said before, Sunday, I am going to see Jolie Holland!

Arts and Humanities and Man's Inhumanity to Man (In the Form of a Sporting Event)

2009-10-07T18:02:00.006-05:00

A big weekend is brewing here at Central Standard. After navigating another week of shepherding the churlen through the world of critical thinking, close reading, and developed writing, Monkey and I will be heading to a local book store to hear former US Poet Laureate Ted Kooser read from his latest. Monkey is especially excited about this, since she has been desultorily stalking the diminutive Mr. Kooser since we landed in this burgh. Since it is Friday, this reading will most likely be followed by an 8pm "lights out" call and some fitful sleep. Aging...it's so tragic (for us, not Kooser...although it might be tragic for him, I don't know).

Sunday will take us to Omaha, where we will see the unique-voiced Jolie Holland at the always intimate Waiting Room. It will be our first opportunity to see Ms. Holland live. She came through last year at about this time, but previous travel plans made it near to impossible to see her. I anticipate this show with the same eagerness that I might await Okkervil River...yes, I like her that much.

Of course before all of this, there is the big showdown tomorrow night, as the Huskers travel to CoMO to take on the alma mater in a little American football contest. I am sort of torn about this game. Obviously, for reasons of personal pride, I'd like to see the Tigers continue their winning ways against the scarlet and cream of Nebraska. However, the devastation that such a loss might cause among the Husker faithful in these parts makes me kind of hope that Nebraska prevails. It will make dealing with my co-workers a much less maudlin experience.

But, either way, I am seeing Jolie Holland on Sunday, so it's all good!

Jolie Holland photo from: One Way Magazine
Ted Kooser photo from: Writing Time

A Most Brilliant Plan!

2009-10-06T18:20:00.005-05:00

Another long week (and it's only Tuesday) got me to thinking about alternate plans...

New Things...Old Things

2009-09-30T18:26:00.003-05:00

Tonight, I am picking up a new bike I just bought! Okay, it's not new, but the guy I am buying it from bought it in April, so it's practically new. It's a Giant FCR1, a flat bar road bike. I think I am going to love it! The guy I am buying it from is a friend whom I play basketball with. He is moving back to Philly (shout out!), and he is only taking what he can carry in his Jeep. So, I offered to lighten his load by one bike. I got a hell of a price on it.

And so, my bike history comes full circle, as I bought my current Giant Iguana from a friend (whom I never played basketball with) who was moving from Baltimore to Mechanicsburg, PA. I just love to buy bikes from guys who are moving to Pennsylvania.

Another thing: tomorrow is this blog's four year anniversary. That is cause for celebration, I guess. However, lately, I've been thinking about bringing it to a close. Honestly, any opinions? Suggestions? Donations? Coupons? Whatever.

Three Fridays and Retro Frankfurters

2009-09-24T16:35:00.004-05:00

On Wednesday, as you recall, I woke up thinking it was Friday.

This afternoon, as I left my classroom, I had a "V8" moment, realizing I forgot to hand out something to my students that they were going to need to do their reading OVER THE WEEKEND. Yup, I thought it was Friday, again.

Finally, tomorrow will be Friday, and this interminable week will be over. I'll probably spend all day thinking it's Monday.

On Saturday, Monkey and I are attending the Husker game against LA-Lafayette. We haven't been to a game since the first year we were here. That was a bad season to attend games--unless you enjoy watching Nebraska get embarrassed. But, Saturday should be kind of cool, since it is the 300th consecutive sell out at Memorial Stadium. That is a streak unmatched (as far as I can find) in current pro or college sports. I am certain that there will be a lot of fan fare, commemorating players and fans since 1962 (the season of the first of the 300 sold out games). The game shouldn't be too exciting (in the competitive sense). Too bad hot dogs won't be specially priced to reflect 1960s prices...that would be AWESOME!

Babies Are Not Trains

2009-09-23T17:38:00.004-05:00

A good number of rail road tracks run through Cornopolis. Many of them are still in frequent use. A corridor through the north of town is a high frequency rail stretch, and residents have been complaining about train whistles for some time.

See, these trains, they cross a number of roads in the area, and, each time they approach an intersection, the trains sound their whistles to warn approaching drivers to stop. But, last week, after a year plus of reconfiguring several crossings, the area became a horn-free zone at certain hours. Residents now don't mind as much when a train comes rumbling through their neighborhood, because now, it's doing it as quietly as possible.

That's good, when residents concerns are responded to by the city and the companies of the area. I have a noise issue I wonder if the city elders might address. There's this baby outside, and it's been crying and whining and whatnot for like an hour already....

(Angry baby head photo from Evil Beet Gossip)

September Meetings

2009-09-23T17:26:00.003-05:00

Parent-teacher meetings were on Monday of this week. Ugh. A long Monday makes for a long week. Probably another reason why no posting.

I was busy with meeting for three solid hours after school, but that helped the time to pass quickly. Unfortunately, I think it also had something to do with me thinking that today was Friday when I woke up, this morning.

That's a nasty trick to play on oneself.