Halloween! Scary Mary is baaaaack

This little video cost me at least two sips
of coffee through explosive nasal ejection.

I'll pay for this moment of fun..... I'm sure

So, I started a blog for my class. Nothing special, as begun.
Just a short description of the program, a few photos, and
a list of work due from the students.

I wanted a quick and easy way for parents to see what's up
and what their youngins are working on.

Being generally of a law abiding character, I E-mailed a link
to the Great Whazoo for an opinion and Ok.

A day later, his opinion was that the IT director says ditch the
blog and stick with our 'Moodle' webware. The package
that's so complicated I can't figure out how to enroll my
students and not one parent has been able to get on.

Again.... generally being an easy going guy, I deep sixed the
offending blog and asked for training on how to use Moodle.
Answer... the IT guy might have time to talk to me on the
phone next week, maybe.

So wheres the fun I'll pay for some time in the future?
That came today.... with one last jab of an E-mail.

I wrote to the Great Wazoo with one more point....
The idea for a class blog came from THE SCHOOL WEB SITE,
which links directly to an article in a professional zine extolling the
virtues and values of having a CLASS BLOG SITE.

Who posted the link to the &$&#ing article? The same IT genius who
says we can't have a blog.

Right on the school intranet web site is the article title, asking if
we have our blog up and running yet.............

Truly a pointy haired manager of the most classic type......
May his roids grow in direct proportion to the brain
cells that die of embarrassment and loneliness.


For any of my students/parents reading this.....
Due before the Thanksgiving break: Resume, cover letter, references,
all CEW work finished, and the two page engine report with photographs
and charts. That is 16 school days! Get to work! RIGHT NOW would be good!
Also, all engines need to be back together by the end of the week and you'll have three chapters of new homework by weeks end.

We PAID for this! What lawmakers do after their brains die.....

Just a few goodies.... true examples of legislative insanity from my home state of Pennsylvania. Laugh if will, but your state has some whoppers too.. I promise you.

The real point is... not that some moronic law maker had such a cranial/rectal inversion, but that the public put them in office and left them there long enough to dream this crap up!

The American public truly gets exactly what it deserves.

Real laws from Pennsylvania:


• Though you do not need a fishing license to fish on your own land,
a hunting license is
required to hunt on your own land.

• Witchcraft was first legalized in the colony of Pennsylvania.

• You may not catch a fish by any body part except the mouth.

• You may not catch a fish with your hands.

• You may not sing in the bathtub.

• Morrisville: It is required that a woman have a permit to wear
cosmetics.

• Motorized vehicles are not to be sold on Sundays.

• Newtown: Every outlet or switch (which can be purchased for 59
cents) that is installed requires an electrical inspection fee of 1 dollar
and 33 cents.

• In the Mount Pocono region any group of 5 or more Native Americans
are to be considered a raiding party
and may be killed on the spot.

• In York, Pennsylvania, you can't sit down while watering your lawn with a hose.

• It sounds like the title of a rock album or something, but "Coasting on Beaver Street" is illegal in Edgeworth, Pa.

• It is contrary to Pennsylvania law to discharge a gun, cannon,
revolver or other explosive weapon at a wedding.

• It is illegal to have over 16 women live in a house together because
that constitutes a brothel. However up to • 120 men can live together,
without breaking the law.

• It it illegal to sleep on top of a refrigerator outdoors.

• In Bensalem, Pennsylvania it is illegal to race mufflerless go-karts after 6PM on Sunday.

• In Harrisburg, Pennsylvania it is illegal to have sex with a truck
driver inside a toll booth. (???????)

• In Hazelton, Pennsylvania, there is a law on the books that prohibits
a person from sipping a
carbonated drink while lecturing students in a
school auditorium.

• Danville: All fire hydrants must be checked one hour before all
fires.

• Dynamite is not to be used to catch fish.

• Fireworks stores may not sell fireworks to Pennsylvania residents.

And finally: In Lancaster city, the city plows snow off the streets and onto the sidewalks, and then fines homeowners for not clearing the snow from their sidewalks. Homeowners may not shovel snow from the sidewalk onto the street, as it's against the law.

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Fred Thompson's statement regarding the UN plan to disarm civilians

Last year, the United Nations Sub-Commission on the Promotion
and Protection of Human Rights declared that international human rights
law requires all nations to adopt strict gun control laws. These
“minimum” provisions are much more restrictive than any of those on the
books anywhere in the U.S. and would almost certainly violate the
Second Amendment of our Constitution.

Besides concluding that all nations are obligated under
international human rights law to control the small arms and light
weapons to which its civilian population has access, the UN report
remarkably denied the existence of any human right to self-defense,
evidently overlooking the work of Hugo Grotius, the 17th century
scholar credited as the founder of international law, who wrote, “It is
to be observed that [the] Right of Self-Defence, arises directly and
immediately from the Care of our own Preservation, which Nature
recommends to every one. . . ,” and that this right is so primary, that
it cannot be denied on the basis that it is not “expressly set forth.”

There is another disturbing aspect to this call for
international global gun control. Throughout modern history, the forced
disarmament of people by its government has often been accompanied or
followed by that government’s commission of often massive human rights
abuses. In fact, no genocide in the 20th century occurred when the
victim population still possessed small arms, legally or illegally,
with which to defend themselves.

So now the UN wants to disarm civilians? Where was the UN when
the massacres in Rwanda occurred? What did the UN do to protect the
victims of ethnic massacres in Bosnia? Disarming civilians under the
guise of international human rights law will only lead to more such
genocides by ensuring that civilians can never defend themselves! It
would be funny if it weren’t so perverse.

Thankfully, the Framers of our Constitution recognized this
potential peril to our liberty, and enshrined in our Second Amendment
the more basic right of self-defense. The U.N. can say what it likes
about other countries’ citizens’ possession of small arms being a
violation of human rights law, but so long as the United States is a
sovereign nation governed by its Constitution, its words will have no
effect here. And I am glad for it.

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This guy is a hoot!

I know Uncle Jay has been seen all over the blogsplat, but
here he is agin............

Another 14 hour day

Sigh..... another looooong day. Leave the house at 6:30, back home by 9:30.

Good news.... got a 94 on my midterm (special needs children class).
Good news..... handed in a paper and did a presentation in the same class this evening.
Nice to have it done. No one threw anything at me, nor fell asleep.

Bad news.... one of my high school students is failing bad, and is now working on taking others with him. We have tried to reach him, only to discover he hears but just doesn't care. His goals are alien to the program we teach. To be blunt, he wants to play and cause trouble all day while doing no actual work, and if lies get him through today then tomorrow can take care of itself. Not stupid, just doesn't care. I HATE losing one, but I won't sacrifice the rest of the students just for his sorry butt. Junior is going to be attending some meetings he's not gonna like.

One of my solaces when the day is rough around the edges is to read blogs. I've never met any of them, but some feel almost like family. Skywriter alone can change the whole nature of my day, usually for the better. Her writing is beautiful and haunting and thought provoking. Just the ticket to drag me away from my petty worries.

Squeakie writes about her life, and lets me leave my own for a moment or two. Talk about strange..... how about a middle aged male school teacher trying to understand and commiserate with a young female college student?

You can figure I drop in on most of the blog roll most days.... and thus maintain my sanity and a tiny bit of perspective.

Global warming..... called off

Another pic of the pick of the peppers we picked.

As I write this, I can smell these
now roasting inside a chicken, all nestled
within the dutch oven. With balsamic vinegar
poured over it and big chunks of garlic shoved
here and there.... the odor is swirling through the
house like a gypsy dancer. Slowly it begins... then
builds to a crashing glory as the oven is opened
and the lid removed. There is not a word spoken
as the golden treasure is revealed......

Are you a teacher? A student? A parent? Watch this.

A desptop image for you....

While I wait for her highness..... a desktop image I'll share.
I'm too lazy to have a decent garden, but not too stupid to
turn down a big peck 'o peppers from a friend!

Why follow the rules? (repost)

I am reposting this for a reason. Of all the Google searches that land on my blog, this is the most frequent. Usually from outside the USA as well. I don't know why that is, and I'd like to hear comments from those who search it out.

**************************************************************************

Why should we obey the rules? They don't!

As a teacher, one of the biggest hurdles is
class discipline. Getting students to behave
well enough that education can go on, that
can be a difficult task.

Working with high school seniors, the old
statement "Because I told you so!" just
does not cut it. That's a sure fire way to
encourage rebellion.

Why? Because the students don't trust
us, that's why. They don't trust us as adults
or instructors to be fair, honest, or even handed.
They don't trust us to have their best interests
at heart.

The simple fact is, they are not really stupid, just
unchallenged. At the core most of them are able
to think just fine. They can tell when they are being
lied to just as well as you or I can. Better, in fact,
as they are more experienced than we old farts,
at least with being lied to.

Teenagers live their lives with double standards.
One for them, and one for the adults. Adults live this
way too but usually choose not to notice. If noticed, most
adults let it pass.

Teenagers still think 'Life is supposed to be fair'. and
they get angry and confused when it's not. Most
mature adults realize that life is not fair, it just 'is'.

A case in point from an adult viewpoint: A senior judge
was just caught at the Detroit airport trying to smuggle
a loaded weapon in her luggage. Judge Sylvia James
was released and probably will never be charged with
the federal offense she committed. Had that
been I, or anyone I know, we would still be in jail.
Is that 'fair'? Is that 'right'? Not by any means.
Is it the reality? Do I realize there are
multiple standards and multiple levels of law
enforcement in this nation? Yes, I do.

My realization that I live not under double standards,
but multiple levels of standards, (many for sale), does not
prevent my functioning in society because I don't
expect life to be fair. I know for a fact that most of the
police cars that pass me well in excess of the speed limit
are not on emergency missions. They drive fast and
illegally because they can. That's not fair, it just 'is'
what it is. I know for a fact my state's governor
will never be charged with the two dozen times
he was clocked going over 100 mph on the PA
turnpike. He's earned his nick name of
'Fast Eddie' Rendell. Is it fair he'll never be charged
while 175,000 other folks in this state got cited
for driving over the speed limit last year?
No.... it's not. It is what it is.

Closer to home.... in our own school, an edict
went out that food was allowed only in the cafeteria,
never in the classrooms. This was supposed to
fight mold, of all things. In a school with over five
hundred students and dozens of instructors and
staff, enforcing this was difficult, especially as
the school sells food in the cafeteria never meant
to be eaten there.

In a letter to the administrator, I asked how I was
supposed to explain and enforce this rule when
my students only had to walk into the
administration offices to see food laid out
on the tables and snack bowls on every desk?

Some people would think it common sense, but
the reality is the admin staff simply never thought
the rules applied to them. They marched to a
different standard. Just like the judge, just like
the governor, just like the police, just like
Congress, just like.......

I'm sure the point is clear.

How do I explain to my students why rules
should be followed? With two simple
points.....

1) Sometimes rules are made for good reasons.
Look for the reason, and obey the rule because it's
a good rule with a purpose, not just because some
two faced bozo tells you to. Be smart enough to see
the reason for the rule.

Like speed limits in town.... 35mph makes sense
when people are walking around and cars are pulling
out without looking. I drive 35mph in town
because it's makes sense, not because it's "Da LAWwww".

2) One day, you might be making all the rules, and for
reasons that make a lot of sense to you. Do you want
your rules to be followed or ignored? Start a trend.

Many of my students will one day own or run business's.
They know they will be making rules, or are at least hoping
they will. This makes sense to them.

How would you explain to a teenager why rules and laws
should be followed, when all around us the privileged,
the important, the wealthy, and the deranged are
held to no, or different, standards?

To quote a student of mine:
"Why should I follow the rules? The principle doesn't!"

So the one student said...

At the end of the school day, I was reading a post about
a raccoon that had wandered into a shop and encountered a
man eating his lunch. The description was hilarious and
I laughed quite a bit.

Then one student said....

"That's the first time I ever heard you laugh when it
didn't sound maniacal and scary!"

Proper image in place.... Check.

Can you guess what we are working on in class?

Engines parts everywhere!

The place looks like a rebuilders delivery truck vomited all over our benches.

The engines must go back together and spin to finish the section. We TELL the students we come in at night and randomly swap small parts around, just to keep it interesting.

So... this implies that........ Awe CRAP

Watch this. Think about this. Tell me what it means.

I think I know what it means..... but....... the implications
are so large it's scary. And awesome. And..... very cool.

Rifle match today!

Who's da King, baby?

Ok, maybe not me... but I did shoot my personal best score and
was only about 30 points off top score. Me shooting my $100
Turk Mauser against them shooting $1000+ AR match rifles.

Made my week!

Image, Video, and note here on my other blog.

This song is stuck in my mind...... what does that mean?

It's just repeating in my head...... Arrg....

Alan Parsons: Psychobabble

Tell you 'bout a dream that I have every night
Tell you 'bout a Dream that I have every night
It ain't kodachrome and it isn't black and white
Take me for a fool if you feel that's right
Well I'm Never on my own but there's nobody in sight

I don't know if I'm scared of the Lightning
Trying to reach me
I can't turn to the left or the right
I'm too scared to run and I'm too weak to fight
But I don't Care it's all psychobabble rap to me

Tell you 'bout a dream that I have every night
It's in dolby stereo but I never hear it right
Take me for a fool well that's alright
Well I see the way to go But there isn't any light

I don't know why I'm scared of the lightning
Trying to reach me
Help me to find what I don't wanna know
You're taking me There but I don't wanna go
I don't care it's all Psychobabble rap to me
Psychobabble all psychobabble
Psychobabble all psychobabble
I don't care it's all psychobabble rap to me

You're readin' my mind you won't look in my eyes
You say I do things that I don't Realise
But I don't care it's all psychobabble rap to me
Psychobabble all psychobabble
Psychobabble all psychobabble
You're lighting a scene that's faded to black
I threw it away cause I don't want it back
But I don't care it's all psychbabble rap

Outdoor life wants to see your guns

Outdoor life has gone pro-gun rights!

Whoda thunk it? The flap over the Zumbo incident apparently woke them up a bit,
and they have responded with typical bloggery... as in.... they now have a
pro-gun, pro-rights, and especially pro-customers blog site.

I'll give 'er a go mate.... and check back pften to see what they come up with.

To start with, they have called for photos of our favorite firearms. I sent along
one of my M+P 9c carry weapon, and gave them permission to take anything
they like from my Carteach0 blog site. In honor of Zumbo himself, I'll probably send along a photo of myself shooting my AR180b.

Are you going to jump in the game as well?

Re-post on compromise... because it came up today in class.

Compromise is always a good thing....... isn't it?

Momma always used to tell the kids: "You will have to
compromise and share", like it was just the right thing to do.
'Good relationships are all about compromise' (manly shudder).

Well.... maybe in some cases, and certainly not in others.
The cases where it's a good activity are manifest and well
noted by every feel good counselor in the world.

These words are not about when we should compromise, but
when we should not.

Some people look to a compromise as the way to settle everything.
Especially politicians, as in the sickening words:
'Bi-partisan compromise'.
Perhaps that's fine in some cases, but a slavish devotion
to the almighty idea of meeting in the middle is a poor
way to run a government. It's an especially poor way
to run a life.

An example to illustrate the point is in order.
Find a compromise in this case: Your goal is to
live your life in peace without injury. The goal
of the deranged drug addict who just broke into your
home is to kill you. Ok? Got the terms?
Ready..... set...... Compromise!

What.... you think living your life in peace is a
perfectly valid goal and you aren't willing to be maimed,
let alone murdered, in the name of compromise?
How about just beaten senseless and left for dead?
Kicked in head a few times? No?

My, how counter social an attitude!

This extreme case does illustrate the idea that not every
situation can be solved by splitting the pot. Sometimes
compromise is wrong. It's generally in these cases
where you'll find 'principles' coming into play.

Principles are tricky things. One key point about
principles is they usually won't survive a compromise.
Once even a bit of a principle is given away in the bargain,
it's all gone. All that's left is a a convenient attitude, but never
a principle.

Give this idea some thought.....

What are you willing to compromise on?
What is beyond compromise for you?

Understanding that bargaining with principles means losing them,
apply that concept to some basic questions in life, such as:

• Who is entitled to your possessions?
• Who is entitled to the fruits of your labor?
• Who is responsible for your safety?
• Who is responsible for your happiness?
• What are you willing to give up for the above?

Don't let this keep you up at night................

Now THIS is funny..

I needed a good laugh tonight, and Jeff Dunham is up to the job!
If I ever meet this guy, I'm gonna shake his hand and buy him dinner....

Times past, common sense lost.....

NY public library has old images on line

Worth taking a look at if you like old images.

Searchable database with half a million images.... more than kewl!

Democrats try to smear Rush, so he uses it to raise money for Marine charity!

This is precious.... just precious....

A bunch of Democrat senator critters tried to smear Rush Limbaugh with
a campaign of lies regarding a remark he made about 'phony soldiers'.
As anyone who has heard the audio or read the transcript can clearly hear/read
Rush was talking about actual phonies.... people who lied about being soldiers.
I guess it's no surprise that every single one of these fakes has spouted the Democrat
party line regarding Iraq.

Anywho.... 41 of these morons in the Senate signed a letter demanding.... well.... who the hell knows... They probably wish it would all go away by now.

What did Clear Channel and Rush do? Made a huge joke over it, then put the letter on E-bay! It's being sold to raise money for a Marine Charity! As I write this, bidding is at $40K with 5 days to go.

Hilarious.....and fitting. Since Mrs. Bill saw fit to sign on (literally) to the lie, I hope we can expect to see lots of this letter in the near future.

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Renault....... a french word that means the same thing as ...

A car techs story:

Many years ago, in a former life, I picked up a job as head tech in a small shop. The place was in St. Petersburg, florida, and was owned by a Palestinian immigrant named 'Sam'. His real name was unusual to an American and it took me days to learn to say it correctly. Once I got it down pat, he beamed at me and said "YES! That's my name! Do you like it?". I said "NO! It's a pain in the butt! I'll just call you Sam like everyone else!"

Getting to the Renault part of this story..... when I began working for Sam, I noticed a Renault out behind the shop, all lonely like. Now, the general public may not know this, but car repair shops sometimes collect unusual cars for unusual reasons. They break down and the owner can't, or won't, fix them. Sometimes parts are impossible to find. Sometimes it's just the wrong phase of the moon. When this happens the car can become a 'lot lump' and just sit there.

This Renault had a story. Sam knew it,and somebody who owned the car knew it. The person who did not know it, and did not want to know it, was me. There were enough Renault stories haunting my nightmares, and one more was not welcome.

This car sat back there a year, and I was quite happy to leave that bear in his cave.
Until.... Sam called me to his office.....

"There is a Renault out back.. I just bought it......."

I knew what was coming. I stuck my fingers in my ears and started singing my favorite opera, and I HATE opera. La LAALAA Oh LAAlooo LOOOO lAAA.....
He literally had to pull my fingers from my ears and wave money to make me pay attention.

The story: The car had been towed in several years before. It had overheated and lost a head gasket, but not before it had tossed a timing belt and bent most of the valves. At the time, the engine was taken apart for diagnosis and estimate. The owner of the car, when given the estimate, had fainted dead away, only to wake up cursing in French, a language he swore he never knew before that moment.

The guy went away and the car.... just...... sat....... there.

Until the day Sam called me to the office.

Sam wanted me to put it back together and make it run.
......
......
......
.. .. ..BWAHAHAHAHAHahahahah......... BWAHAHAHAHAHahahaha......

I lost my breath for a while. What Sam was asking for was a miracle.
Not only are Renaults hard enough to work on, as they generally break faster than anyone can repair them, but this one had been taken apart years before and left in pieces. That's a possible death blow to even a good car, let alone this Franco boat anchor.

Sam was serious. He had just bought the car for scrap value, and wanted me to put it together so he could make a serious profit. Sam was serious about money. He paid me serious cash every week, and we never joked about money. Seriously.

Ok.... I said to myself: "Self, you have to blow Sam off this idea he's going to make money or he will never let this go".

Out back we went, to look over the Renault. Parts in boxes, parts on the seats, parts under the hood, milk cartons full of bolts....... "Gulp....."
"Sam, it needs the head rebuilt at the machine shop. It needs all the exhaust valves replaced. It needs a head gasket set. It needs a timing belt. It needs a serpentine belt because it's missing. It needs oil, filters, plugs, and wires. It needs a thermostat. It needs........"

Sam: "I already have that stuff on the way and the machine shop will have the head back on Monday".

CRAP.... SHAZBAT..... MERDE!

Me: "Ok.... Sam.... I didn't take it apart. It's a 1.7 liter engine and we have
no documentation on it. It's a night mare from the word go and will take
me days to put together. I'll have to figure everything out as I go, and....
I'll do it for three times book". (that means three times whatever the labor book says the job should pay).

Sam: "DONE!" without a blink.

DOUBLE MERDE! He was ready for that. I should have said five times book.


It took me one day to make it run. (There was a time when I was really, really, good at this stuff).

Now, I told you all this stuff just so I could tell you this last part, which is classic Renault.

Remember when I said the serpentine belt was missing, and I hadn't taken it off?
Well.... it took me one day to make the car run, and run sweet. It took me another half a day to put on the belt, and that should have taken five minutes.

No matter what I tried, the belt would not fit right. A serpentine belt is called that because one belt 'snakes' around all the pulleys. In this case, it was seven pulleys in a very tight space. No matter how I put the belt on, it would not fit.... and there was no book to look this car up in. I ordered a new belt, figuring the one I had must be wrong. No soap. I mapped all the pulleys, including which way they had to turn, in reference to the ribs on the belt, and tried the belt in the only two possible ways it could possibly fit.

I...... TRIED....... EVERYTHING....... and it beat me senseless.

By lunch time I was looking at my tool boxes wondering how hard it would be to just move them back home and quit. I went to lunch completely defeated.

Over an adult beverage with lunch.... I talked to myself. It wasn't pretty, and other people moved away. Far away. Some left the restaurant altogether.
It really was not pretty....... Till it hit me.

Like a ton of great big buttery French bricks, it HIT ME. I was going about it all wrong! I was approaching it all WRONG! This was a RENAULT!!

I should not have been figureing out the best way to put the belt on.

I should have been thinking of the STUPIDEST WAY TO PUT THE BELT ON!!

I tossed a twenty next to my plate and left my uneaten lunch behind. Racing back to work, I pictured in my head the most ignorant, stupid, utterly impossible way to put that Renault belt on that ignorant, impossible French engine.

Five minutes after I drove my car into the next bay, jumped out (leaving my car running) ...... I had the belt on the Renault and I was leaving on a test drive.

The car was finished. I was done.... and I WON!!

Then...... Sam..... sold.... the... car...... to.... our..... office.... girl.......

It was never going to leave.

%$#@!$% Renault.

Neighbors, that's why

This afternoon I bopped on down to the firing range for a few minutes to test this bit of work out. On the way out the door, I saw my neighbor at work on his home. On a ladder, he's working on some siding. The man just never stops.....
As we neighbors do, I stopped a few minutes to pass the time and commiserate on growing old... blah blah.

Arriving back home a short while later, I see the ladder skewed at an angle and no neighbor in sight.

Oh. Crap.

I take a trot next door... look in his garage.... look in his house.... and finally find him sitting behind the house yacking on a cell phone.

"Richard, you Ok?" I ask.
"Yup, why?" he says.
"Your ladder out front fell over and slid sideways on the wall" I say.
"Oh. Thanks Carteach! I'm fine" he says.

Notice he didn't ask why I was over there, or what matters if a ladder is sideways, or anything else. He understood why I was there and what I was worried about.

He would have been looking for me if he saw my ladder sitting sideways on the front of our house too.

That's what neighbors do... they look out for each other.

I like living here.

They just don't make cartoons like this anymore!

Here is what Mrs. Clinton wants to do to our health care system

A brief article about a specific situation involving the health care in a nation with socialized medicine.

This is what Mrs. Bill wishes upon us...

Notice in the article... the answer their medical industry comes up with, after ignoring the problem for several years and almost 100 deaths? Their answer... ask sick people to stop coming to the hospital.

Oooo... that sounds like a good answer....

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I feel sorry for the other winners....

Algore won a part ownership of a Nobel prize. Thats being plastered all over the media, as it should be.

Here's my two pounds of carbon footprint on the matter:

My first thought was..... Old man Nobel must be up to about five hundred RPM in his grave. Any reading of his will thats reasonable shows this award to be five bricks short of a stack. The idea that Algores self serving political farce movie, backed up by his self serving highly polluting political life style, has anything to do with world peace is just.... nuts.

My second thought.... was a memory. Long ago, working as a tech, I made it through GM training. I made it to the level where I was tested and came away a GM certified master technician. To be honest, I thought I was hot crap on a bun... the biggest swinging wrench that walked the earth.

I thought so for about a week..... till I learned our dealership's service writer had tested the same day and made 'certified technician'.

The man could not change a tire without frying the vehicle computer and losing two fingers in the process.

His achieving the 'certification' took mine and turning it into utter bupkis. I tossed the laser engraved wooden memorial plaque in the trash and used the certificate as a coffee coaster on my tool box. Mine was worthless because he had his, and he was an idiot.

I know what the other Nobel prize winners must be feeling right now, since Algore got his 1/2 a prize.

Sad.... very sad....I feel sorry for them.

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I do this because....

I'm a teacher.

It's more than what I do, it's what I am.

After a few years in the saddle, there come moments where reflection rears.
Why do I do this.... that is chief among the questions.

It's not the "Why do I do this to myself" kind of query, said in exasperation after a horrible day. It's the "I need to better understand why I do this, so I can be better at what I do" kind of question. These are tougher to answer.

When I was a kid, I attended Vo-Tech. Back then we still called it that. The school was usually treated like a red headed step child, and used to dump students who were not going to make it in a 'real school'. To me it was way... way... way... better than 'real school. It was a place that made sense and actually taught something we could use, instead of underwater Latin basket weaving like the high school majored in.

The instructor was smart... very smart. When he wasn't teaching, he was working in his family business. When he wasn't doing either of those, he was helping the Air Force figure out how to drop missiles off air planes without blowing them up.
(Apparently it takes more than gravity). He was also kind of a hero of mine.

After I graduated and began working in the field I trained in, I stopped back to visit the class. It was.... fun. I wasn't there ten minutes and I was helping some of the students with their tasks. I showed them how to assemble a mechanism the right way, then to their dismay I took it right back apart and said "Now YOU do it!".

It took me another twenty years of working in the field, training the odd tech here and there, till I made the move to teaching. I consider it my own training period... I was mastering a skill to pass on.

One day, I stopped on the way to work and bought coffee and a paper. Unusual for that day, I read the classified ads. There was a small advert looking for a long term substitute teacher in my trade. By the end of the day I had an interview arranged.

My loving wife... who knows me better than I know myself... never hesitated. She knew up front it meant a large pay cut. She also knew the sub job could end and no full time job be offered. She knew I was shooting for a rare position.... there are only a few hundred people in this state who do what I do now.

My wife supported me all the way.

Now, with some years under my belt.... I can pause to reflect.
Why do I do what I do? For the love of it, and for my students.
Answering a post once on dream jobs, I could truly say: "Exactly what I am doing now. I am a teacher". There is nothing else I would rather do.

For my students.... it's like a drug. You can actually see it in their face.... when they finally grasp a concept and it all goes clear for them. When.... they find out they can do it.... and they are good at it.... It's like nothing else.

I do it... because it's worth doing. As an instructor I can change lives. I can actually do something that will change the future.... I can touch the future.
I make a difference. I do something that matters. It's so solidly real as to be almost painful.

Working with kids... everything matters. Every word, every gesture, every plan, every day. Reaching inside their heads and grabbing them... in a way no one else can. Not every kid, and not every day.... but enough to make it worth everything.

I do it... for the ones I can reach. For them, I go to work while many other folks are just getting out of bed. For them, I work hours past the 'union' quiting time.
For them..... I'd move mountains. To reach one and be a part of his life, that's greatness. To reach one... and save him... that's gold.

Kids don't know how to say thanks, nor do they need to to. They 'say' thanks by giving me their effort.. by believing in themselves when they never have before.
My students say thanks when they show up at the class door a year or two after they graduate... just to say Hi... and tell me how their life is going.
This happens almost daily now.

Teacher is not something you do... it's something you are.

AArrrggg.....

Here I sit, an hour and a half into testing an adult class....

And there he sits... at the computer.... driving himself and me nuts.

Why is there always ONE in every class??

The person who reads a simple question and adds in twenty pages of pure BS that have nothing to do with the question.....

"This question can't be right! It doesn't tell me what part of the state we are in, what phase of the moon it is, and what color my underwear is! How can I answer this question!!"

On the day I started this job.... I was carefully and repeatedly told that I may NEVER strike a student except in self defense. I wondered for the longest time why they were so sure to drum that in.... it sounded like common sense. Who would hit a student? It would be insane!

Now..... I understand. I know why the experienced educators who coached me along made sure to warn me in advance about this.

Oh Son OF A B%$#@! He's asking ANOTHER question!!

I wonder if mental self defense would count..........

(all this is said in jest... sure... thats it... making a joke.... right)

Flu pandemic? Anyone following this?

This is a topic I will be studying.

Points to consider:
* Better than 50% mortality
* Recently discovered mutated to more communicable strain

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FLASH TRAFFIC: Fresh off the wire! Liberal Democrats like Hillary Clinton!

In a shocking trend taking everyone by surprise, Progressive and Liberal Democrats are now reporting their grudging acceptance of Mrs. Clinton.

Former Dean supporters and other party centrists are warming to the idea of a candidate who's finally promising a real sharing of the wealth in exchange for a few measly votes.

Says one New Hampshire politico: "We sort of lost direction after the Communist party was overrun by the Democrats, and Dean fell prey to the Republican conspiracy, but now Former President Clinton's wife is looking like our kind of candidate!"

Fueling the amazing turnaround is Mrs Clinton's campaign promise to take money away from those who don't vote for her, and give it to those who do. While this has been a plank in the Democrat platform for generations, only Mrs Clinton has had the fortitude to make it the centerpiece of her campaign.

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Cardio-political (yelling at the radio again....)

Have you ever driven along, listening to the news radio...
Yelling at the radio like it could hear you?

Have you ever seen anyone doing that, and thought they were nuts? Bats in the outhouse? Not the sharpest brick in the stack?

Maybe that was me you were looking at....

I was doing it again last night, driving home from another stinkin fifteen hour day. When I'm tired and driving alone, I do one of two things: Play music really loud and get into it, or listen to talk/news radio and think about what they are saying.

Last night, they were speaking to Nancy 'crypt keeper' Pelosi about the S-chip program. The new bill the Demolitionists introduced in an effort to make the republicans look bad. There was no other reason, as the bill is outrageous and no president in their right mind would sign on to it. It is, in fact, another shot at socialized medicine and does nothing more than subsidize health care for wealthy people at taxpayor expense. The Dem poster child they trotted out is from a family with $400K home and pays $38K a year for private schools. With full major media compliance the Dems know they can get away with the sham and make the republicans look bad; their goal in every case.

After all, they will welcome anything that draws attention from their approval rating, which is simply this: Nine out of ten people think they are doing a lousy job. Stalin had better public approval than that.

What was I yelling at the radio? Try this on for size:

"Want to make sure kids have health coverage?? Do Ya??
How about you stop stealing their parents money in taxes and let them keep it!!
Give a 100% tax credit for health coverage premiums for children!!
NO!!! Can't do that!! That wouldn't give 'Wrinkles' Pelosi control over the money, would it?? People are too stupid to do what you think is right, ain't they??
Wish we would all just shut up and pay our TAXES, Don't YA?!?!"

That's what I was yelling.... and no, it didn't make me feel any better.

watch

50 caliber cannon!

This is what my bride thinks 'fun' looks like. At the least, this is what she bought me at a gun show so *I* could have fun with it.

She understands that boys need toys to play with.

My first instinctive thought was: 'That's silly, I made one in shop class when I was 15 and lost interest after shooting it a few times.

Now that the itty bitty beastie has sat on the kitchen counter a few days... it's looking more interesting. Maybe if I make a little carriage for it, and maybe if I can keep the cannon balls in the back yard by aiming for the shed, and maybe.....

Silly bugger I am, I admit it. I'll post pictures when we shoot it the first time.

Sigh..... she knows me.

Mrs. Clintons voters will not care about this...

My first thought...... You can't make this stuff up. it's just too... too.... I can't find the words.

My second thought: The folks who will vote for Mr's William Clinton will not care about this. The idea of her hiring Sandy Bergler as an adviser won't hold any special meaning for them.

My guess.... the bulk of those who would vote the "Gimme my five grand" ticket won't even know why others will consider it a problem.

They .....just.....won't......care.

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Not up to the challenge

One of my regular daily reads, 'Skywriter', has a seriously good way with words.
She doesn't load the place with snark and complaints, instead writing small essays on life. In each there is an echo, sometimes a shout, that resonates within.

Yes, she will probably read this post... and no I'm not just being nice. I'm not that nice a person and don't go far out of my way to flatter anyone. My idea of being nice is to hand you a bandage while I laugh.

I've only been blogging for a short while.. months really. Some have been doing it for years. I think Jerry Pournelle invented the concept before AlGore ever dreamed up the internet, in the days of Arpa-Net.
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I'm putting this off.... because it's hard to write. It's slightly easier knowing this blog is read less than an Amish technology web site, but that makes it only slightly easier.

Scully at Skywriter has been working through some personal issues in a public and soul searching way. Each blog entry has it's own bit of human beauty to it.
The strength of character it must take to do this is beyond me, and I respect it.
On the other hand... it carries a challenge as well. The challenge to face one's demons and stare them down. To overcome them and move beyond them.

Sometimes... in life... there is a pain that is just too much to deal with. People react in different ways to it. Some change into different people, and deny to themselves their own history. Others drift off into space to escape, and never come back. Many of us.... and I am one.... wall it off and never deal with it at all.

About twenty years ago... we had two sons. About twenty years ago.... we suddenly had one son. An illness, a doctors mistake, young parents not realizing how serious it was....

Reading Scully's writing is inspiring.... and challenging. The challenge is to tear down the wall and deal with it.

I sat here this evening to write about what happened, what I felt, and what I locked away. I dug out a picture.... and the two decades evaporated.

That's a vault not ready to be opened. Nothing has changed. I have to get up tomorrow and deal with the day, just like I did that morning twenty years ago. The day after tomorrow I go to work and help 50 young people on a daily journey to maturity. There is no time budgeted for me to fall apart.

Damn it.... not yet.... just not ready yet..... and not up to Scully's challenge.

Meet the furrier children

Meet Tigger.

Why? Because Tiggers bounce.

When Tigger came home about 13 years ago as pup in my sweater, he bounced into my sons arms and our families hearts.

Still there..... just doesn't bounce as high these days.

Tigger is 110 pounds of Lab/Rottie mix... must have been a heck of a blender.

While his bark can shatter windows, and he has dragged railroad ties across the yard on occasion when we were silly enough to tie his lead to one... he is gentle as a kitten.

He is, in fact, scared of kittens and will hide behind us if one visits.






The little white thing... that would be 'Daisy', AKA 'Rat Dog', AKA 'Terror Bitch', AKA "That %^$#%@ bit me again!'.

Daisy is a Cairn Terrier, which is some ancient breed bred to guard trolls in caves and such. I'm not sure what Trolls have to fear, but Daisy could surely handle it.

Daisy came to us at an undetermined age, but it doesn't matter. I suspect she was mean and crotchety at birth. She is twenty pounds of attitude in a ten pound body. Don't feed her what she wants? Your dinner will do nicely then. Not at the door when she wants to go out? Fine... she'll crap where you are sure to find it... in the dark.

Daisy is a pound mutt, and my wifes' therapy dog. She loves my wife dearly... puts up with me.... allows our children to live here, and usually attacks anyone else who dares to walk in without permission. Her permission, not ours.

We have one more dog.... my youngest boys constant companion. She's a 'jug', part pug and part Jack Russel terrier. Strange little alien space creature of a dog that actually thinks Daisy wants to play. No matter how many times little white rat dog turns into the Tasmanian devil, Cinder still wants to play.

No picture of Cinder the jug (AKA 'Da WoodChuck') because they are all a blur. Cinder has two speeds..... WZZZ WZZZ WZZZ or hide under youngest sons chair.
She can lap the living room five times without touching the floor, rebounding from furniture to wall and back again. Weird. Space. Alien. Creature.

Every morning she greets me as I come down the stairs.... she's learned not to come up the stairs, as that is Daisy land. Learned the hard way.

She greets me every morning with the complete inability to contain her excitement that I am still alive, much as she greets everyone else who breathes. I know she can't help herself, but I've often wanted to hold her still a few moments... just to see what pops off when the pressure builds up. I wave my hand in circles and she spins like a top to watch it... just in case my hand does something really amazing this time, like turn into a rabbit or something.

I can't recall living without dog for any significant part of my life, and we had dog as long as we have had kid. Sometimes we have forgotten which is which. Their manners give them away... the dogs are better behaved.

Teaching an adult class tonight, I said.....

Second evening of a four night class certification class.
I tend to be animated, opinionated, and just generally very hard to sleep through.

Leading off tonights class..... I started with:

"So, who had a crappy day today?"

At least half the hands went up, with some smiles of recognition, expecting a story of my own day to be told. Instead, they got this:

"I was just reading a news story. It might be the most disturbing thing I have read in a long time. In Mesa, Arizona an old man was hit by a truck while waiting for a bus. Somebody drove through the bus stop, hit this poor old man who had just been grocery shopping, and drove off. The man died."

The class reacted with predictable disgust. I went on:

"Yup, the driver killed the old man, then left. While the old man lay there dying, the people around the bus stop stole his groceries."

Silence in the class.

"So, who had a crappy day today?" No hands went up..... not a sound was heard.....

"Kinda puts things in perspective, doesn't it?"

Little of late....

Sorry I have been blogging little lately.

Dealing with theft amongst my students, as well as 12 hour days.

It's just..... draining. I started the day trying to think of
better ways to handle this situation... just like I have for the last week.

I'll have more later.... when I have time to process.