Dribble Pop

I am a Raving Rabble Rouser...

How funny is the beginning of the song Age of Aquarius? I imagine the singer on a ladder about to lose her balance, swaying back and forth.

What is old people's obsessions with little crystal figurines? I was in a random truck stop driving home from New Orleans the other night and saw an entire glass case of such figurines. There were a variety of dolphins, small animals, medieval swords, dragons and guitars. Who goes into a truck stop and sees the case and says to myself..."Oh my Lordy! I've been searching truck stops across America, from Chatanooga to Alberquerque, for that little porcupine with the beady black eyes! Here it was all along, sitting in this glass case right outside of La Place, Louisiana! Thank my lucky stars. You know that at some point in that individuals lifetime, there will be a comical event ivolving some uncoordinated doof taking an awkward step and instantaneously smashing the priceless/worthless collection of little figurines. I must admit though, the crystal porcupine feels so cool, all prickly-like in your hand. It's better than those chinese soothing yin-yang balls. Let me tell you!

The New Orleans Saints will be returning to the city for the 2006 football season. The ten Saints fans who still live in the city were exstatic. They even went as far as erasing "Owner Tom Benson is a black- hearted, glue-sniffing, soul sucking, douchebag cock sucker" from all the refridgerators still lining the sidewalks. I sadly predict the Saints will be relocated by 2007. Honestly, how can a devestated city support a professional football team? Say it ain't so, but so it goes.

I once was the pig who built his house of straw. Now I am the pig who builds his house of bricks.

After I saw the movie Jaws, I was terrified of stepping into a swimming pool let alone the ocean! First that thirteen year old phenom gets her arm bitten of and is back on the wave the second her rehabilitation finished. What a soldier! And another guy, when being threatened by a shark, punched the fish in the nose. Damn, don't mess with a surfer...um...don't mess with a surfer. That doesn't sound right. Unless he's Patrick Swayze from Point Break. If I robbed a bank, I'd definitely wear a mask with the likeness of Dubbya, or Cheney.

I lost the volume increase button on my Laptop due to Jack. He also ate my cell phone charger. Dog's are expensive. But even when he's biting my arm, he's too damn cute. I'm just waiting for the hormones to kick in. I hope he's not one of those dogs that humps people's legs.

Identify me...The only celebrity I've been told that I look like is Jason Schwartzmen ( the guy from Rushmore). I've also been told that I look like I come from Italian heritage. I am pure russian, baby. My Great Great Grandfather was a blind clarinetist. My Grandfather was the second best ping-pong player in America. My dad is the greatest Jewish Pimp with perpetually tanned skin in America. What will be my legacy?

I was given a Nintendo Entertainment System when I was three. I just finished my game of LifeForce yesterday. I used to have to go to the bathroom and then hold it. Sometimes I couldn't hold it, but I didn't stop to go to the bathroom. I remember one of my favorite movies in the eighties was the movie "The Wizard." Fred Savage played the older brother of aseven-year-old autistic Video Game prodigy who ran away from home to join a gaming tournament in California. The two highlights of the movie were as follows: Lucas, the thirteen year old villain, who used "The Glove" to kick ass in the game Rad Racer...and second, the final competition in the tournament using the video game Super Mario Brothers 3 BEFORE it came out for distribution across the country. I was mesmorized.

I tried to save my favorite article of clothing, my Punxy Phil hoodie from the grasp of Katrina mold. It was soft. It was blue with yellow writing. It was one of those pieces of clothing that everyone commented on. I got it in Punxatawny, Pennsylvania on Groundhog's Day in 2003. Rest in peace hoodie. You did not survive. I will never forget you.

I have yet to induldge in the latest craze of the podcast, webster dictionary's word of 2005. Are they entertaining? Please tell me.

Have we figured out what to call the decade we're living in yet?

If smell-o-vision was technologically possible, would there be a demand for it? Do you actually want to be able to smell most of the stuff we watch on T.V.? I think not.

Do you think Bronze has an inferiority complex to Silver and Gold, or is it one of those rare metals that doesn't care what other people think of it?

I find it a bit frightening that nanotechnology will be the next step in computer chip functionality. It will not be long before people will hear the suggestion of getting a computer chip implanted into their brain and not cringe.

I believe we are truly moving towards an Orwellian state. The next presidential election will greatly impact the future/direction of our country. We've been living in a Bush world for so long that we've forgotten about what used to be "normal."

Alcohol should be illegal. Period. Cigarettes should be illegal. Period. Fast Food should be illegal. I know this is a free country, but I would be so greatful...Then again, pot is illegal and that hasn't stopped me, just made me poorer.

"Yo, man, where can I get a Big Mac?" I said. "Dude, shhh, not so loud, you know how rare those things are these days?" "I'll give you fifty bucks for one." Can't do it man. The NSA have been coming down on everything fomr McNuggets to McFlurries. They're probably listening in right now. It'll cost you one hundred."

I wish there was a cartoon town like in the movie "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" I'd like to meet Apri from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles...and Michaelangelo for that matter. Even though I've always been partial to Donatello, Mikey always seemed like more fun.

Existential Fireworks and Urban Planning

Last night was a blast, literally. Headed into New Orleans around dusk to meet up with my good friend Jacob. Before the trip, I stopped at one of the fireworks tents that has popped up around La Place and invested in a nice little arsenal of black cats, parachutes, and roman candles. Finding a place to set them off without drawing attention proved to be tenuous, but we trekked over to the barren neighborhood where I my old apartment stands and set up shop. After realizing the precarious postioning of power lines that gridded the street, we picked a relatively safe spot, placed our wine bottle/ launching pad on the ground and lit up the night sky. All in all, it was a good time.

When we returned to Jacob's house in mid-city, we spent an hour engaging in beautiful conversation. I've been feeling quite intellectual lately and thus have jumped at any opportunity to initiate philosophical and political dialouge. He told me about his adventures in Morocco and Egypt studying anthropology in the Middle East and the surrounding areas. I can't admit being surprised when he explained the intense hatred that accosted him from the local citizens regarding his membership to the mailgned country the good old U S of A. I'd assume that most people who travel these days would find themselves embarrassed by their association with our country. We are greatly detested and deservedly so. Jacob and I had fun running wild with the School/World analogy for a bit. It was another one of those infrequent conversations where the vulnerability of intimacy is deglected for the greater value of getting to know someone on a deeply personal level. Jacob's friendship is becoming increasingly important to me. After our discussion we retired into his house to watch the movie I Heart Huckabees. I've been really burying myself in the philosophies of existentialism lately. The basic tenets being:

-People are inherently not good, sharing and generous, but are conditioned to be these things through societal conditioning.

-Mankind has free will.

-Life is a series of choices, creating stress.

-Few decisions are without any negative consequences.

-Some things are irrational or absurd, without explanation.

-If one makes a decision, he or she must follow through.

Therefore, we are at our best when we struggle against the contraints of existence and not allow ourselves to be complacent with our lot in life. We are responsible for our choices whether they have good or bad consequences. If we detatch from our problems, we are attempting to avoid responsibility which is impossible. All of our experiences and decisions are subjective based on personal experience. Even though there are moral and ethical guides that influence our choices , we have the freedom not to follow them. Since we are free to make our own subjective choices, resposibility is thrust upon us. This ideological pathway leads some existentialists to claim that we are "condemned to be free." I Heart Huckabees struggles between the ideas that everything is connected and nothing is connected. The dialectic between pure being (existence without thinking) and the unescapable draw of human drama forces us to rally like a ping pong ball back and forth. The movie resolves with a resolution between the two trains of thought. I personally believe everything is connected, but find it near impossible to be aware of this idea in the day-to-day. I'll leave this thought as an ellipsis...

A recent article in the Times Picayune detailed a few of the ideas that are floating around the local government that would begin to revive the city. A light rail service that would travel from the Louis Armstrong Airport to downtown New Orleans seems to be the most riveting. I was enthralled by the education proposals. Mainly, since the population seems to be hovering around 200,000 people and will not increase dramatically in the next three to four years, politicians want to make huge changes in the education system that transform New Orleans public schools from a boon of the city to a draw. The architect of the Philadelphia school system recently spoke to lawmakers expounding how they had their pick of any superintendent in the country, because the opportunity of a fresh slate could not be overlooked. One plan flowing through the veins of the rebuilding committee involves the construction of mini school campus facilities that would be utilized by the community. Four schools would be placed on a campus and would include, medical, entertainment, community centers and a variety of other buildings. These mini communities would increase parental and community involvement. Studies have show that parental involvement positively impacts education. Such communities have already been founded in Wisconsin with incredible success. I want to be a part of this! I think that after I've been teaching for another year or two, I could dedicate my efforts full-time to the future planning of New Orleans education. Once the actual plans take shape and the process begins, I need to find out how I can get involved and help steer the direction of the future of the New Orleans public school system. I get excited just thinking about it...time will tell. And I'll do my research.

Microcosm-Macrocosm; School-World

The day after Christmas and all through the house, Breanna and Alyssa were stirring, so was a beagle-pitbull-catahoula pup named Jack. I don't know Jack's official birthday, but I know that I got him around the first or second week of February when he was already six weeks old. So I am declaring today, Jack is one year old (or seven in dog years)! Last night I enjoyed a wonderful dinner with the Iannone family, the wonderful people I've been staying with. We had a beautiful array of salad, meatballs, eggplant parm, lasagna, orange cold drinks, and pumpkin pie for dessert. After dinner, Jon, Mr. Cici, and I engaged in a fairly intense intellectual discussion spanning religion and politics. Breanna and Alyssa were desperately wrestling for our attention. They already had the pretty princess board game set up. Jon kept saying how this was the first adult conversation he had had in the house for months and they needed to be patient. We were a regular multicultural melting pot, the three of us. Jon is a Christian from Connecticut, Mr. Cici is a Muslim from Mali, Africa, and I am the Jew from Dirty Jersey. Too often, when the big discussions of faith and politics arise, people want to run for the hills. So I always appreciate when people of different cultures and faiths can get down to it. Throughout the discussion, Jon would preempt his comments with "I don't want to offend you, but..." then he would throw out an honest question. He's very endearing in that way. He demerits his own intelligence, and doesn't allow himself enough credit for his own thinking. The most fascinating part of the conversation revolved around the Iraq war. Mr.Cici and I banded around our belief that the war was not necessary. We realized that our main point of contention with Jon was the claim of the existence of WMD in the desert. We all understood that we did not know for sure one way or the other, but my inclination was that there were not WMDs, and he believed that they were possibly buried somewhere before we could find them. We skittered around the United States involvement in forgein affairs. I explained how I thought that we should stop meddling and acting as the world police. I think that should be the responsibility of the United Nations. Then Jon alluded to a brilliant analogy between world politics and a regular school. I jumped on his analogy and used it to iron out my own view of how world politics should be run. Let me try to articulate:

Imagine a public school as a microchosm of the world. The United Nations would serve as the Principal. Their responsibility would be to make sure that the world run smoothly facilitating in "classrooms" where problems were arising that effected the entire "school." They would intervene and provide support, and if necessary provide a blue print for successful management. Each country could be seen as a teacher and their citizens be students. The teachers would manage their students and if a few bad students were found to be negatively effecting the entire school and it was beyond the teacher's control, the principal would aid in reprimanding and handling the student. Now, in terms of the Iraqi war, imagine that I am a the teacher representing Iraq, and I choose to run my classroom in a way that other teachers frown upon. I use corporal punishment on my students excessively. I am having difficulty managing my students, so another teacherfrom the other side of the school, we'll call him "Mr. Sam" decides that it is his responsibility to enter my classroom without my permission and tell me how to run my class. Not only am I offended by his presumptuous actions, but I feel that the Principal should be the one to help me, whether or not I ask for her help, not another teacher...especially one that I hate. Now, I realize the analogy has holes in it. But I feel that it still works fundamentally. One of the breakdowns is that the "principal" or United Nations needs to gain more power over the school with the support of all the teachers. Countries need to restrain their own infringement and rely of the judgement of the principal. Now the United States has too much pride to accept the judgements of the United Nations. We have to accept that there will be times when we disagree with their judgements. But that's part of democracy. I disagree with the President Bush, but I understand that the majority of my country voted for him and so I must accept the public's and the president's decisions. I won't necessarily silence my opinions, but that is how democracy works. Until our country accepts the decisions of the United Nations we will not be truly serving democracy. Looking back on my argument I am aware that it is full of errors based on my lack of knowledge in the realm of political science. I'd appreciate any help in understanding the faults of the argument. And I have plenty more to say that was discussed, but for now I will say that the conversation I had last night was quite enjoyable and I will now return to my preparations for the second half of the school year.

With the free time I have...I will probably revisit the blog again today.

Mothers, and it's not even mother's day...

My mother used to remind me of Carolyn Burnham, the mother character from the movie "American Beauty." Even though the woman, played by Annette Benning, is a contemptible representative of Americana circa the late 90's, I never made the connection between her and my mother with any contempt. I was just aware of a professional ambition that catered to a pretense for fake presentation. Never in a million years would my mother admit her superficiality in earnest, but I sensed that her maudlin marriage to my father always seemed fragile and combustible in her opinion unless a spotless image was maintained. I inherited her need to be accepted. It's not something I am proud of, yet it can feel consuming. That's one of those things I would have difficulty saying out loud, but purging of it through writing seems safer, even if I know anybody could read it. Living with a cut-and-paste social network down here, I feel even less burdened by it. My mother has gained persepective over the years. She's a brilliant woman. She can be self-depricating in her regrets of not going to college. She attended nursing school, but deep down, I don't believe that she considers those years on par with "college." After her divorce with my father, she went back to work. Initially she resumed her career as an RN at a local OBGYN. Mom's always been a saint when it's come to children. Her heart busts open when an infant or toddler enters a room. We'd be in conversation and her eyes would drift to the youngster. Her connection sometimes led her to deep pain at work. She'd aid mothers who couldn't have children without the help of artificial insemination. Many mothers would endure the hardships of unsuccessful trials or miscarriages. This took a toll on my mother. Finally the clinic began making budget cuts and preemptively she began searching for another job. Through a friend's connection, even with a lack of sales experience, she got hired for Bristol Meyer Squibb in pharmaceutical sales. What she lacked in organization and experience she made up for with determination and incredible people skills. Working admingst MBA Harvard grads and young bucks attacking the field, she quickly jumped up the pinnacle ladder. Pinnacle, being the major selling incentive for the company. Those who had numbers within the top fifteen per region went on business vacations to Hawaii, Italy, Cruises, etc. In two years, she was consistently winning these awards. She had a knack for the job. She thrived. Over the years she acquired impressive organizational skills, a supportive husband, and a proud son. She even became interested in politics, launching her opinions and intiating discussions with me that we never could have had before. Maybe I've grown up a bit, but it can't be mistaken that she's grown too. She's taught me, through her actions, that no matter what stage of your life you are in, you can always change and become who you want to be. Who you see yourself as. Nothing's perfect. We still have our disagreements. I haven't talked to her in two days because I'm avoiding a responsibility to sign a paper that she needs to fax to me. I do love her. I've never been a momma's boy. But it will crush me if I were to lose her. I love you mom.

Bustin' some Trustin'

I find myself tete-a-tete with a moral quandry that I am not at liberty to divulge. A classic struggle of intellectual rationality versus emotional irrationality. The answer seems simple when presenting it in its purest simple form, but my heart still challenges me. The consequences of making the right decision would be minimal. The wrong choice would lead to a path of inevitable deceit. I don't like secrets yet I always feel like I am buried in them. My family has a lot of skeletons, some dead, others ongoing. It's not healthy to grow up in a house of secrets. The ability to trust someone who hides secrets is a difficult task. I don't want to be someone who people cannot trust. To be able to trust somebody is perhaps the deepest form of communication. Trust cannot be handed over with kind words. Trust needs to be earned over a great deal of time. Through ours' and others' actions we gain or lose that trust. I hate those things that are so valuable to us yet so fleeting. We can spend a lifetime building and maintaining our trust in other people, but with one faulty step the ground, one mindless action the ground can fall from beneath our feet like an Indiana Jones movie. I think that is so scary. The ease from which we can betray another's trust. I believe most everyone has had such an experience. Where, at the right time at the right place, have said that most singularly wrong remark and lost a deeply personal, well esblished connection with another person. That one action or comment that changes everything. When there's no going back to "how it used to be." I'm rummaging through my brain for the last such episode I have endured. I lost a minor friend before Hurrican Ivan. We had been hanging out a whole lot when I slipped the old "I am attracted to you" into conversation. She stopped speaking to me for a while and even though we have cordial conversation on occasion, it's never been the same. I wasn't too messed up about it, because we hadn't gotten incredibly close, but all it took were those famous words. That situation seems pretty common, where one individual admits attraction or feeling to the other and when it is not requited the relationship walks the plank. The last time I lost the trust of someone I loved was back in college. No regrets though. That one wasn't meant to be. Still slightly painful though. Is that pathetic or what?

I spent a good two hours today playing a b-ball and baseball with my landlord and two kids from the neighborhood. I've never been a superstar at sports, but I've always been able to exceed folks' expectations of my capabilities. We tied Jack up to a tree and just let loose. It was a beautiful day out, surprisingly warm.

A fireworks tent popped up right by my house last week. I'm feeling the id in me commanding me to go buy a whole slew of them and have some good old boyhood fun. I remember some crazy friends of mine who would shoot roman candles at each other for fun senior of college. They'd play tag with the fireworks. It was an accident ready to happen, but they provided hours of entertainment. Let's just say my roommate who was studying for his LSATs didn't quite appreciate it. Tomorrow night, I will go down to the levee to see the mile long line of bonfires that they set up every year. Should be a spectacle. That's it for now.

It's Brisk Baby!

Finally the anticipated day has arrived. The beginning of the Christmas vacation. I specifically say "christmas vacation" because that is purely what it is. Signs around the school read Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. We have no politically correct inclinations. We are a christian society and proud of it. You can imagine my apprehension in breaking the news to my students that I am Jewish. It went fairly well this year. We were watching a small video about Kwanzaa and then another about Channukah. I became dismayed when my kids talked through the videos. I sternly explained how important it is to appreciate other people's cultures because you never know when you may be offending someone. Then I dropped the bomb. Naturally they had questions. Cameron remarked that I didn't look Jewish. I won them over when I explained that Channukah was eight nights long which resulted in eight nights of presents. You see, you have to relate to kids on their level. They didn't understand that I didn't believe in Jesus as the massiah. Without going into a lengthy diatribe I merely explained the similarities between Christianity and Judaism, and moved on to another topic.

Tonight I had the priveledge of attending the annual faculty Christmas party. We did not celebrate the occasion at Bull's Corner a local bar, like last year. This year we enjoyed a feast of home cooked dishes consisting of gumbo, fried turkey, cream cheese and bacon crescents, among other various goodies. The blatant segregation between the black and white teachers that was prevelent last year, seemed nonexistent this year. I gathered my teachers manuals and left in style.

After a night of rest and relaxation, I will embark on a cavalcade of coffee shop trip to prepare for next semester. I intend to be hard at work for a smooth spring. I will do my best to be organized, even investing in one of those large desk calendars to fill with excessive long term planning.

Tragically, the new friends that I am excited to spend time with have all gone home for the holidays, but I am not amiss. I will be ready for they're return.

On a final note, my class passed today's principal's challenge. The students read a total of 85 books in less than two hours. Kudos to them! Also I found out that the St. John Police chief has recently been busted for selling drugs across the street from my school. What a sad state of affairs.

I feel good. Even with the cold weather, I myself feel brisk, like Lipton Iced Tea.

Oh...and I have a secret crush. Love is in the cold air.

Addressing the Address

Before watching Family Guy this evening I endured the Presidents address to the nation. Now I have declared before that I am not a fan of W., but I felt obliged to give him credit for the speech. I don't consider myself a "defeatist," and I didn't agree with the war in Iraq in the first place. One criticism of I had of the Bush administration has always been the constant evasion of culpability. Tonight I felt like even though he didn't account for all the mistakes he has made in office, and I believe there are many, he did express that he was aware of the consequences of the decisions he has made. If I were Dr. Phil, I'd give the old guy a big hug and tell him how much progress he made in his benediction this evening. I understand that once our country did commit to the affairs in Iraq, we could not very well just leave the vulnerable new governtment to the dangers that would inevitably exploit it. I was pleased that the President at least slightly articulated a plan to deescalate our involvement as the safety of the country was assessed. Maybe his vision of a democratic Middle East has it's pluses, but I never would agree to force feeding it on them. It needs to be their own choice. I do feel that we have begun a new "cold war." I am only referring to the cat and mouse games that the United States and the Soviet Union played with those countries that hadn't yet chosen the course of democracy nor communism. Only this time we lack a monolithic advesary such as the Soviet Union. This time we wage war against the countries' own ideologies. I sadly predict many more Viet Nams and Iraq at our doorstep. The only questions are who will be next and how long with the people of America sit idly by and condone our actions? The Republican takeover of Washington seemed inevitable with the impeachment trials of Bill Clinton. I am hoping that a democratic backlash will be the result of Bush's antics. We have to wait until 2008 though. Hopefully the democratic party can get their act together by then. I don't merely want a democrat, but an organized, intelligent individual who not only uses the support system around him/her but acknowledges mistakes and in turn takes responsibility for them.

Barrels and the Tender Trio

I used to have a seminal theory involving the two films "Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels" and "Snatch." I had interrogated many a movie-goer as to which film they enjoyed more. More often than not, the first of the two that had been seen would be their personal favorite. There have been a few tempremental individuals who sabotaged my theory, yet the initial prediction would usually be upheld. The theory is inconsequential, but I cite it, because I recently saw the latest production of Matthew Vaugh, "Layer Cake." He actually helmed this movie in his directorial debut. While the characters' dialects make it difficult to understand at times, I found Layer Cake to be on par with his two previous endeavors. The movie was smart and cool highlighted by the same cinematographic nuances and sentimental grittiness that epitomizes Lock Stock and Snatch. I highly recommend it.

This weekend consisted of two pilgrammages to the Big Easy. Friday night, I hit up Frenchmen Street accompanied by a few first year Teach For America folk. We swanked around in the tight confines of the Apple Barrel bar until my friend Justin and I heard that Galactic was playing a free concert across the street. We naturally hightailed it over and caught the last hour of the show at d.b.a. Galactic flaunts a funk sound that just sends your soul a-dancing. They are original New Orleans cats that annually host a swinging shindig at Tipitina's every New Years. Also, the drummer always looks constipated when he gets going. Is that just a mean trick God played on drummers? Drummers are the porn stars of the music world, always performing their coital acts on display for everyone to admire. Last night I had one of those nights where the conversation flows like the Courtyard fountains of Pat O's. The type of night where you commence with acquaintances and complete with friends. I dearly enjoyed the company of Abby, Jake and Andy as we frolicked from the Old Absinthe Bar (with the courteous popcorn baskets, gratis), to Razoo (home of the bouncer beatings), to Pat O's (under the warmth of those amazing heater stands), to Shilo (for a brief TFA reunion of sorts and the last ten minutes before the 2 a.m. curfew went into effect) ,and finally back to Jake and Andy's (under the glow of Aqua Teen Hunger Force). All in all, it was a successful night to be remembered and I am giddy at the idea of spending more time with my new tender trio.

Bon voyage! The holiday season is upon us. The hum of christmas themed CDs hover over the coffee shop. Haven't decided if I'm gonna tell my kids I'm Jewish yet. But we will learn about Hannukah and Kwanzaa tomorrow...Break will be here before I know it.

Education Revolution

So I'm feeling a bit controversial. Here is my proposal for the future of education. Let's implement a radical regiment of computer integration into the public school system. Kids spend as much as eight hours watching television or playing video games these days. Society is becoming increasingly sterile to basic intimate communication, oral conversations, face-to-face interaction, etc. Why shouldn't we sacrifice social development altogether and utilize the teaching power of computer programs. Developments in technology could design scripted interractive programs that aid in learning and are far more effective tools than the dinosaur age human teacher method. Students would be enthralled by the computer screen as many already are only they'd be learning. The programs could introduce new material in a variety of ways that address the different learning styles, visual, aural, kinetic. I'm imagining more than just a computer station, but a fully functional manipulative equipped cubicle prepared to facilitate science experiments, worldwide exploration, theoretical practice and practical application. This would allow each child to proceed with their education at their own natural intellectual pace. Those who were advanced would excel through the grades like the roadrunner, "beep beep," and those who needed more practice and clarification could complete the courses when the time was appropriate. Grades would be eliminated and when the child had fulfilled the obligatory learning curriculum for each grade they would have a personalized graduation ceremony. They would then be invited to join the work force with the computer data analysis proposing the job they are most suited for. Or, they could continue their education at a collegiate level for realms of higher learning. For those naysayers that cry to the heavens about the lack of emotion and sensibility that will result in such an education, I propose the addition of "social enrichment." While these classes could potentially be technology driven as well, they could (if absolutely necessary) be led by a real human being. These classes would be much like the Barclay classes I took as a fourth grader. I remember learning the fox trot, the cha cha, leading a girl to the ballroom floor, offering to get a drink for her. She would sit there petrified with her white gloves and legs gracefully crossed at the ankles. Substitute the dancing for basic social skills like saying "thank you" and learning to problem solve when encountering an adversive social situation like somebody calling you a name would be the focus of the classes. The would be divided not by age level, but by ccomputer determined social maturity. This would eliminate many schoolwide problems that are evoked by the consequence of integrating students of highly differentiated social levels. Now, such an education would give each individual the best possible education adhering to their capabilities and eliminate many of the social dilemmas that arise over the course of a child's school experiences. Eventually the general self esteem of our nations youths would be increased dramatically because they wouldn't have to encounter the tribulations and adversity that can be associated with schools. The workforce would be fulfilled and fruitful, because people would be prepared for their future occupations and succeed at their skills with confidence. This is not to say that people should be forced into a specific job, but should have the option to pursue any computer program they fancy. They will merely be explained the psychological effects of such a life choice. Organization, dietary, excercise and other healthy habits could be incorporated into the curriculum to ensure the physical well being for our future population.

All of these ideas seem promising and to be completely honest, I cannot decide if I am being satirical or honest. You make that decision for yourself.

Oh...and Happy Birthday to me. 24...weird.

Forgotten ruins and broken levees

A friend sent me a recent article from the New York Times. http://www.nytimes.com/2005/12/11/opinion/11sun1.htm . The article did an excellent job articulating some ideas that have been floating around in my head. No one will deny that both the federal government and local and state governments are at fault for the lack of preparation and response to the disaster. My biases still remain with Mayor Nagin. Even though Nagin made a variety of huge errors in his lack of preparation and does not deserve re-election, I have more of a problem with Governor Blanco and President Bush. In discussing the situation with my mother and the lack of action by all the governmental bodies, she pointed out the political corruption that has tainted the city of New Orleans forever and still remains in the forefront of the American psyche. The New Orleans levee board that voted to build a ceremonial fountain as opposed to putting that money towards the levee is inexcusable, is a prime example of such political inadequacy. In light of the reality of the situation, that has limited forward progress in unifying the coasts levee boards and thus creating a more safe and reliable allocation committee, I believe the federal gov. should take a more proactive stance and take the first step in initial action. Now, I was not a political science major and I do not know the laws regarding legislature that provides financial support in the case of a natural disaster. Can the feds overstep the boarders of the Sportsmen State and implement the restructuring and strengthening of the levee system? Whether they have the power to act, the federal government is allowing New Orleans to rot with the food still festering in the moldy refrdgerators that litter the city street curbs. I personally am burdened by the blatant hypocrisy on the part of our current President. His main selling point in his bid for re-election was his staggering ability to protect our country. My questions stands: Is this protection limited to military action in the defense of terrorism? Don't we need protection from the devestation caused by entities other than Osama Bin Laden and Saddam Hussein, like a hurricane? The article in the Times reveals that our greatest fear would be the loss of one of America's major cities. This may seem insensitive, but just because a plane didn't fly into a building or a nuclear weapon didn't go off doesn't mean that we should take immediate and definitive action in the face of such destruction. We can justify spending 300 million dollars on a war that does not make us more safe, but potentially more vulnerable? I'm not saying that the government hasn't been generous in its distribution of money, but where is the visible progress that needs to be made? It's been three and a half months and the rebuilding has seemed slow and gorged by beuracratic red tape. Meanwhile, as stated in the article, people are establishing roots in other states out of necessecity and abandoning the dream to return to their original homes. Who can blame them? There's no guarantee that it will be less than ten years before the city will be bigger, stronger faster, or at least comperable to what it was prior to the events of Aug. 30th. And I want to stay! I've decided recently. I have the will to continue my commitment at Garyville Magnet. It has been harder than ever, but I feel strongly that I can do it. That being said, I still have to reconcile the reality of New Orleans. The decision still looms unresolved by practical reality. Please sirs and madams, help me stay.

Pics

I added some pictures of New Orleans from last weekend. Notice the hedge picture. You can actually see the line where the water crested.

Meg

After producing my morbid post yesterday, I received startling information that a friend of mine from college had died in a car accident. Meg had come down to Louisiana from Maine a couple of months ago to help in the post-Katrina relief effort. She had rounded up some do-gooders who intended to commit their services in Mississippi, Alabama and finally Louisiana. All thirteen had come down in a vegetable oil running van and probably had a blast of a road trip. Traveling down Poydras, the van swerved indecisively onto the I-10 on ramp. My other good friend Peter was on the van and suffered some injuries. I still don't know the extent of his condition. My heart goes out to you,

I had known Meg in college and spent a good deal of time with her my Junior year. I'd like to share one of my favorite memories of her. It was founder's day at Vassar, a festival of spring where the collegiate population of the bubble in Poughkeepsie released their hedonistic needs by the pleasantries of sunset lake. I remember tripping with her on one of the grassy knolls under the shade of a white blossomed tree. The weather was perfect, blue and green and speckled in layered shadows. We were sitting on a blanket enduring the waves. She had been sporting a fantastic pair of blue lensed sun glasses. I myself had those stylish five dollar orange tinged aviators. We sat cross legged facing each other preparing for our newly discovered game. We closed our eyes and fumbling in our own personal darkness removed our glasses, traded them new opoosing colors and all, and reopened our eyes. Struck by the magnitude of a world in a new shade of hue, we laughed and rolled around and did it again, and again, and again. Meg was a contagious smiler and exuded affection. Never allowing herself to fall into laziness, she always pursued one selfless cause after another. Many will miss you Meg, and many more would have if they got the priveledge to meet you. I'm sure many are indebted to your emotional and spiritual generosity. I hope you're speckled with layers of shadows on a grassy knoll under the love of a white blossomed tree.

The Mystery of the Safety Pin

There is a fascinating tradition for birthdays in Southern Louisiana. When it is an individual's birthday, a safety pin is attached to the shirt of that paerson. Friends and family then contribute one dollar bills that are placed on the pin. I've seen various children and adults participating in this ritual. I've been searching online for some insight into the origin of the tradition, but have yet to find any success.

Jumping around in the bouncy castle in my head

I've admittedly fallen into a rut. The blank screen has been staring me in the face the last couple of days and I've seen care bears running across. I remember being younger and when people would tell me to clear my mind, I'd imagine a great white blanket like a polar bear in a blizzard and then ever so randomly tiny little care bears of all colors run across the whiteness trailing little cartoon clouds of dust. When I clear my mind, that is what I see.

I guess my malaise centers around the approaching winter break. With only a week and a half until it arrives, instead of being excited about it, I'm already thinking about how quickly it will pass. I have ambitions for this much needed time off. I intend to use it as a planning period for the next semester. I feel that if I get a head start, I will be ready for the district and state tests that my students will need to embark on. I will be staying in Louisiana for this reason. While I will be able to catch up on sleep, I will fill my days with focused work and my nights with curfew beating pleasure. A few of my friends will be in the area and there are a couple of events that I'm anticipating. On Christmas Eve the parish has a tradition of lighting a series of bonfires along the levee. Even though it was bitter cold last year, it's still nice to walk from fire to fire. On that note, let me extrapolate how the cold weather in Louisiana is dramatically different than that of the northeast. Up north, the temperature drops much further than the south, but it feels like a dry, break-your-ears-off cold. Down here, due to the humidity in the air, even if it's forty degrees, the weather chills you to the bone. Now I'm not going so far as to say that one might be worse than the other, but both are excrutiating in their own ways.

This past weekend has been amusing. Friday was pretty much uneventful, but Saturday was a different story. After spending much of the day in the city, attending a professional day provided by Teach For America, I accompanied a friend of mine to the mall. I am not a fan of malls to begin with. For me, the only purpose they serve is for the life long pleasurable tradition of people watching. A good friend of mine wrote an extensive thesis on malls in America and I find the subject to be interesting. They represent a focused nebula of commerce deformed by capitalist propaganda. Stepping into a mall I feel like I'm entering a hallmark card written by George Orwell. Around the holiday season, gift-giving become a obsessive focus of many warm-blooded Americans. Yet the task of finding a gift that can be appreciated and treasure seems nearly impossible. Instead of taking the time to use our own repressed creativity by making something, we resort to the phenomenon of the gift card. "I don't know what the hell you want, so why don't you go figure it out on your own." The sad thing is I myself find it hard to know what I want around this time. I've always been very needy around present time. But for some reason this year, I don't think I truly want anything that can be "given," materialistically speaking at least. I'd like a correspondence in the form of a phone call or email. My upcoming brithday always coincides with the holiday season. Maybe it's because I'm "making"(a southern idiom) twenty four, or maybe it's because I'm so far from friends and family. But my birthday doesn't seem that special this year. If that's the unavoidable result of growing older then I don't like it. Dreams always seem to come true on my birthday. I mean, it was easily my favorite day of the year. As I grew older I'd always treasure those folks who would remember without me even mentioning it to them. I find this to be an impossible task, because I never remember anyone's birthday with the exception of my family. Dad: Oct. 21; Mom: Jan. 30; Corey: Sept. 17. When my sister turned 15 my grandmother passed away. I was never really close to my grandmother, and I felt more remorse for my sister, because she was devestated that she had to attend a funeral on her magic day. A year later, we attended my grandmother's grave unveiling. I don't mean to sound callous about my Bubbi's death, but I don't like seeing my sister feel sad. Death can be a confusing entity when it involves a person you either have no feelings towards or worse when you actively dislike that individual. Sometimes the emotions cause guilt, when we are expected to seel empathy. Sometimes they lead to anger, when others expect sadness. Are those deaths just as difficult to process as those of our dearest love ones? I guess not, because the impression of a person who had an emotional connection to us will most like outweigh those who we feel the opposite.

Ok, I'm jumping around like a jumping bean. I've never seen a jumping bean jump. I'd like to see a jumping bean jump. And are all jumping beans Mexican?

Watching a tree grow and counting the rings

Some people can spend weeks at a time without talking to another person. Some people can handle pressure and tension building up like a balloon ready to burst. Some people can cry at the drop of a hat. Earlier today I said "thank you" to a person, and it meant more to me than it ever possibly could have meant to her. My voice seemed to be synchronized with my purpose, which rarely happens, and I felt genuine.

Sometimes I set my phone alarm and something goes wrong. The phone runs out of batteries. I set it for P.M. when I meant to set it for A.M. There are times when I sleep through it by accident and other times when I sleep through it on purpose. In television and the movies, there always seems to be a definitive turning point, an unmistakeably identifiable event, that leads to a timely revelation or well placed epiphanie. I find that those same moments rarely happen in real life. Often, the changes occursover a period of time that's invisible to the naked eye. It's like the never ending process of growing. Each year the tree adds another ring to the trunk and you wake up one morning, living over a thousand miles from your family, responsible for the education and emotional welfare of twenty-four innocent children who desperately want your attention, but can't find a meaningful way of obtaining it. It's true that many of the barriers we establish ourselves are imaginary, but it is our choice to either stay in the cage or fly out the window. Last night I flew out the window.

I won't pretend that something incredible happened last night. I didn't find any real answers to any of the problems that are floating around in my head. I certainly did not encouter anything out of the ordinary. I just had fun and when it was time to go, I didn't want to leave. When the hurricane happened, I'm not denying that I freaked out. I had many hours of doubt and uncertainty. But I handled it. I made what seemed to be the right decision, knowing that I could possibly be in the situation that I am now. I've been lonely. Last night, even when I drove an hour back to my small bedroom alone, I didn't feel lonely. So today I called someone to thank them, and it felt good.

Minicourses and invisibility

When I was in middle school, every January we'd have one special week that outclassed every other week across the entire school year: mini-course week. There were eight different themes to pick from and we'd spend the week doing various activities that revolve around the assigned theme. The week would end with an epic field trip unprecedented in the realm of middle school. In fifth grade, the theme I was assigned was flight. It happened to be on the bottom of my list. We learned about airplanes, rocket ships and even competed in a kite making contest. I made a massive kite using balsa wood and a black hefty bag. It was as majestic as a falcon, but being the fifth grader that I was, I had little to no chance of placing in the competition. I suffered minimal disappointment already knowing my predetermined fate. In sixth grade, I got a gem of a mini-course, Amish Country. The thrill was snuggled away in the disguise of the field trip. We had a fantastic dinner at the home of an Amish family. We milked cows. I remember buying an enormous bar of chocolate at the general store. Seventh grade was the highlight of my mini course experience. The whole week for Colonial times centered around the field trip to Williamsburg. We danced in a colonial ballroom. Got lectured by the folks people dressed in traditional garb. Meandered through the town perusing the churning of butter and useless gift shop paraphenalia. Eighth grade happened to be just as satisfying as seventh. We studied the sixties. We drank Tang, made tie-dye t-shirts, studied the music of Jimi Hendrix, and learned about the Vietnam War. I would advocate that mini-course week should be implemented in middle schools across the country. Viva la mini-course.

I think it'd be a lot of fun to be invisible. I've always been a little bit skeptical about the logistics of it though. If I were invisible, would it be the kind where my clothes would be invisible too? I mean would they be invisible because I touched them or because they were made invisible when I was? If the latter was the case, I'd be stuck wearing the same clothes all the time. I don't believe there would be any invisible clothing stores. If the clothes became invisible because I touched them, wouldn't everything I touch become invisible, or would there be a proximity rule. If this was the case, I wouldn't have to worry about the conundrum of eating or drinking. I always thought'd it be gross to have to watch the food or liquid be digested and watching smoke inhaled would probably be depressing. I'd never want to be high while being invisible though because not only would I get extremely paranoid that others could see me, but the whole ideology of invisibility would be a complete mind-fuck. I guess, if all these side issues were solved, I'd love to take advantage of being invisible, but somehow I doubt the scientists would be able to answer all my questions. I know for sure that if it was irreversable, I'd absolutely refuse becoming invisible. If you could become invisible though, I'm sure it'd be advertised on the internet. The world already can be a pretty sketchy place, but I think it'd be a bit more fucked up if invisible people were roaming around. There might eventually be some social reaction to the "invisibles." They'd be rounded up like cattle and put into a room and spend the rest of their lives constantly bumping into each other mumbling "excuse me" and "sorry, I didn't see you there."

Okay, weird post tonight. To be honest, it felt damn good to be weird.