The End of an Era

For reasons I shall not fully divulge here, today will be the last day I post on Hopelessly Uncool. If you have enjoyed reading, give me a call or send me an email and I'll direct you to my new site (as yet uncreated). Thanks for following my life for these past 6 years. Goodbye.

Waiting for Muffins

That's not some cryptic, symbolic title. I'm literally waiting for my breakfast to finish baking. And so I've been to the other blogs I read. I've checked on the weather (we're going to have some days in the middle of the week that go back over 100 degrees). And I sit. I wonder.

I don't have anything to say. I could say I don't have anything to do, but really there is plenty. I just choose to rest. To sit and think. But part of me longs for something to fill this moment. I don't feel lonely. It's just...curious. I'm not sure I've ever felt this before.

The Tooth of the Matter

Life has been a bit hectic this past week, so please forgive how long it has taken me to relay this tale. Although...I was tempted to wait another week to write about it, but that's only because I like to use the word "fortnight".

A little over a week ago, Aydan was headed to his final day of the first week of school. Due to a drought, the drainage area between a dammed portion of Bear Creek and the bridge for Bear Creek Drive was dry. It's a big cement area that looks a little like this: \____/. Well apparently in the mind of an eleven-year-old boy THAT looks like a half-pipe. So since he had time before school started, Aydan dropped into the half-pipe for a little jump.

When he called me I was just dropping Brennan off at his school. The tears and the mention of pain and blood caused me to hurriedly shoo Brennan out the door and race home. I was a little angry, truth be told, that Aydan had messed around on the way to school and caused a minor injury which was now going to make both of us late. Fortunately I cooled off very quickly when I realized how serious it was.

Well first of all, his tooth was gone. The blood was pretty minor, so I wasn't worried about that. I was a bit concerned about what his smile would look like if the tooth couldn't be put back in, and, let's be honest, how much the dentist was going to cost. But the main thing that concerned me the fact that he couldn't remember where his bike was. Again, I got a little angry, because the boys will often conveniently "forget" things when they did something wrong, rather than confess that they messed up. When he asked me, "How did I get here?" though, I knew something was wrong. Pretty soon, he started asking, "Did you find my bike?" and when I had explained to him that I had not, he responded by asking, "Did you find my bike?"

So I knew he had a concussion. I called out athletic trainer at school to figure out what to do. After he calmed down and the pain had decreased, we went to get his bike (the front fork was bent away from the intended 90 degree position relative to the handlebars) and actually found his tooth as well. From the evidence, I pieced together that he did not pull up on the handlebars when he hit the upward wall of the drainage basin, and his tire stuck, he flipped over the handlebars and smacked his face into the cement wall.

He had a few minor scrapes and bumps. His canine tooth was knocked out, but thankfully it was a baby tooth. The concussion was a concern, but he recovered quickly and didn't have any dizziness or vomiting so we were less worried. Now, after a week of not being able to participate in recess, PE or football practice he is eager to go to the doctor to get cleared to play again.

And what can you say to all of this but, "Boys, eh?"

Finality...and Uncertainty

I just (re)watched the series finale of "Scrubs." I won't lie to you--I wept like a little girl. I'm serious: shaking, uncontrollable, hard-to-stop sobbing.

Now getting emotional was probably NOT due to the show itself, although it has played an important role in my life these past few months. I've processed thoughts, received affirmation, and been allowed to escape through laughter by watching this show. But more importantly, I've been watching it as I scanned pictured, and captured analog video, and basically electronically documented the last 12 years of my life. That life is over in many ways. My time recalling it and mourning it is over. And now, I have re-watched the entire "Scrubs" series--all 8 seasons (season 9 doesn't really count)--and that, too, is over.

What I particularly appreciated about the finale of "Scrubs" was the concept J.D. was wrestling with: finality and uncertainty. His time at Sacred Heart came to a close, but life wasn't going to stop there. He wanted his goodbye to be significant and he came to realize that it was largely due to the fact that he didn't know what was coming next, and he wanted to savor the warmth of the memories before facing the chilly, uncertain and scary future. But he concludes the show by basically saying, "The future is whatever I make it." I'm a bit more Christocentric, so I would say that the future is whatever God has in store for me and will be shaped by how I respond to what he is doing now. Still, I am sad for a great many things. I'm even sorrowful about what is likely to come, even if it might be considered "a good thing" or "what I wanted." But I have embraced the pain of those moments, I have said my goodbyes, and I am now ready for whatever lies ahead. It's scary to say that, because I'm not really ready. How can I be so confident that I will live well in the face of what could be very hard or tragic? Yet I trust that whatever comes through God's hand is for the good of everyone involved, and I am certain that he will provide (as he has always done) everything he asks or requires.

Though it is something of a diversion, I also want to make mention of a few other reasons why I was moved by the finale. One is that I like J.D. Don't mock me for feeling a connection with a fictional character--I already know it's weird. J.D. prays that his son will have an unhealthy affinity for musical theater. In 2009, J.D. asks Turk if "SportsCenter" is a new show. He is dorky and sensitive. He's skinny with a big nose. He's me. I can only hope that I am ever fortunate enough to have a friend with whom I am as close as J.D. and Turk. I hope that one day I can be in love with a girl--and have her love me in return--like J.D. and Elliot (and I like the show because their relationship gives me hope: on again, off again; hurting each other but always pulled back together). I long for a mentor like Dr. Cox. I want to make a difference in people's lives and teach students how to do the same. I know it's ridiculous, but I see a lot of positive value in J.D. in particular, and in "Scrubs" in general.

And finally, I know I cried because Peter Gabriel's version of The Magnetic Fields', "The Book of Love" was playing as the background music to J.D.'s "slideshow" of the potential future (and no, the irony was not lost on me that the culmination of my compiling a digital "slideshow" coincided with the same happening in the show, though mine was past and his was future). That song is very meaningful to me, and therefore very moving. And I know my words will never communicate the thoughts and emotions I had when watching the show, not anymore than they could tell you how I have felt during the past few months as I watched it, but I'm hoping the song might. In fact, here is the soundtrack to my life recently. Maybe listening to it will give you an insight into who I am and what life is like for me right now.

Summer Highland Falls (Billy Joel)

Out of Love (Toto)

I'll Be Over You (Toto)

Stop Loving You (Toto)

I Dreamed a Dream (Les Miserables)

Wild Horses (Charlotte Martin/Rolling Stones)

Sigh No More, album (Mumford and Sons)

Stay or Leave (Dave Matthews)

I Want You to Want Me (Cheap Trick)

Beautifully (Jay Brannan)

I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You (Colin Hay)

Right Here Waiting for You (Richard Marx)

It Don't Matter to Me (Bread)

Graceland (Paul Simon)

Slip Slidin' Away (Paul Simon)

What Might Have Been (Little Texas)

It Don't Matter to the Sun (Chris Gaines/Garth Brooks)

She's Gonna Make It (Garth Brooks)

Chalice (Phil Keaggy)

Rachel Racinda (Lost and Found)

Fix You (Coldplay)

Black Snake Moan (Samuel L. Jackson)

The Stranger (Billy Joel)

America (Simon and Garfunkle)

Hearts and Bones (Paul Simon)

The Longing (Andrew Osenga)

I'm Going to Go Back There Someday (The Muppets)

Try and Love Again (The Eagles)

Lying Eyes (The Eagles)

Pippin, musical

Out of Tears (Rolling Stones)

First Day of School

I have always loved the first day of school. Even when I was a student, I looked forward to going back, seeing old friends, and learning new things. I still love the first day of school, and in some ways it is now doubled for me. Last week we had teacher's inservice, and it is always so much fun to go back to work and see old friends and catch up. Then today classes started, and I enjoyed seeing former students and meeting new ones.

Highlights of the day include:

1) Named AP Teacher of the Year--I found out that my AP Art History students absolutely CRUSHED the exam at the end of last year. I had a 95% passing rate (the next closest teacher was at 78%), and was also mentioned in two other categories (third in greatest increase of students enrolled in the course, and second in greatest increase of students taking the test). Even more, the students did not "just pass" (the final score ranges from 1 to 5, with 3 being a score that is typically accepted by universities as "passing"); I had never had a student score a 5 prior to last year, and I learned that at least four did so, and everyone else I talked to earned at least a 4. That is absolutely amazing! And I'd love to be cocky and say that I'm some great teacher, but really it just shows the quality of students I was able to work with last year.

2) A student walked out of my class.

First he was tardy. Then he refused to work. Then he started texting and when I attempted to confiscate his phone, he refused. When I informed him that an administer would be coming to take it from him--and then made the call to the office--he bolted. He was later found and dealt with. I'm curious to see if he'll be back in class tomorrow. I could joke and say, "I'm sure great times are ahead with this kid!", but instead I've been praying for a way to interact with him and see what's going on in his life.

3) These two little buggers.

My sons were far and away the biggest highlight of my day. They had on their LeBron t-shirts, their new shorts and shoes, and they were ready to go.

Brennan started 3rd grade today. It amazes me how big he's getting.

Aydan is now in 6th grade (his last year before jr. high/middle school!) and wanted to ride his bike up to school by himself, as usual. He did consent, however, to me following him and taking a picture in front of his school.

The highlight on top of this highlight was the moment when Aydan turned to go into school and Brennan called his name, ran after him and gave him a hug. It was so good to see, because they've been getting on each other's last nerves as the summer ended, and it made me realize how crazy I am about them and how I couldn't be more proud.

I did not remember to take a picture of me in my first day outfit, but I am not ashamed to tell you, dear readers, that I was indeed looking pretty fly.

My "Half" Summer

This summer has been...interesting, to say the least. It has also felt like the summer of halves. Let me share some of these with you.

Thing Half Done This Summer:

Paintings

This one was meant to be decorative and I intended to finish it quickly. It's a design by Charlie Harper (genius), but the precision got to me and I never finished (but I will).

This one is also an homage, but it also serves as an example for a project we do in my art classes. It's David's "Napoleon at Saint Bernard Pass (or, Napoleon Crossing the Alps)." I may have stuck with this one had I not finished Napoleon and been instantly frustrated. I'm sure even the most casual observer can see the fatal flaw that I did not take the time to stop, analyze, evaluate and correct: the two halves of his body are in different scales. The end result is that he looks ridiculous, and I'm ashamed of it. Definitely not my best work.

I'm not sure if this one even counts. I can't remember if I worked on it this summer, and it's been half-finished for over a year. Anyway, here's what it looks like now.

Marriage

I don't really know how to elaborate. It's been weird.

Books
Certainly one of the more entertaining half-read books from this summer.
This one had some good thoughts that hit me at the right moment.

And this one was nice, but for some reason I didn't feel like I needed to finish, since it was just a collection of short stories. Regardless, it's my own fault that I didn't finish any of these books. What sane person tries to read three books at one time?

I have one day of freedom left, and then summer is over. I return to a classroom without a working projector (which is kind of a big deal, especially for art history), lacking the cart of 30 Macbook Pros (I hope they don't dock my pay to compensate for their mysterious absence), and ready to receive 39 students (my largest class ever). And you know what's crazy? I'm actually looking forward to it.

Boys Like Huck Finn

I think of Huckleberry Finn as a carefree boy, daily seeing what mischief he can get into and never missing an opportunity to head to the creek and catch a fish. This summer my boys have caught that same ethos, especially the part about catching fish. They fish almost daily and have gotten astonishingly good. When we go to Walmart they don't beg for toys or candy--they want lures and worms. And its a great pastime to indulge: giving them knowledge, skills and practice, connecting them with nature, and getting them outdoors. This last one I marvel at even more than their ability to pull sizable fish from a very tiny (and even more so with the lack of rain) creek. They can go out for hours at a time, even in the middle of the day, and contentedly fish. Currently, we are on a 40 day streak for consecutive days over 100 degrees. If we get over a hundred into mid next week we will break the streak, established in 1984, of 42 days. Still, I'm sure the boys will be out in it, living it up and snagging fish left and right. I think it's awesome and it makes me smile.

I'm No Superman

When I was in junior high I loved comic books. They were one of my main artistic influences, and for a time I thought that "when I grew up" I would be a professional comic book artist.

Then, in high school, the Superman "S" became a convenient emblem for a warm-up shirt I wore to track and field meets. It was convenient because it could have stood for Shelby...but really, it was my way of expressing to everyone how great I thought I was.

The "Superman thing" became something of a gimmick, and provided easy presents from friends in high school and college (I remember receiving Superman lunch boxes, puzzles, mugs, etc.). I still clung to what was really my own ridiculous identification with the Man of Steel: I was invincible.

But I remember reading a graphic novel called "Kingdom Come" when I lived in Saint Paul. In it, Superman retires permanently to the Fortress of Solitude after he was unable to save Lois Lane from being murdered. The story deals with former heroes--disillusioned, washed-up, burnt-out, exiled--and the aftermath caused by their absence.

Since that time Five for Fighting has sung, "I can't stand to fly. I'm not that naive. Men weren't meant to ride with clouds between their knees. I'm more than a bird, I'm more than a plane, I'm more than a pretty face beside a train and it's not easy to be me." Lazlo Bane sings, "I can't do this all on my own, no I know I'm no Superman."

I have come to realize (and this is really no great shock) that I am not, in fact, Superman. Just as society has started deconstructing the myth and looking at how hard it would to be him, I have seen my life experience tremendous challenges, and I have experienced my own weakness and inability to do the right thing time and time again. Superman may not even be a superman, and I certainly am not.

Disappointed? Sure. Clouds cleared from my eyes and able to see clearly? Absolutely. Hopeless? Hopelessly uncool, hopelessly flawed, hopelessly frail, hopelessly needy...but not without out. Because I am unconditionally loved, I am irrevocably saved, I am endlessly strengthened, I am constantly facing death so that Christ's life may be made manifest in me. Even if all is stripped away, including the Superman machismo, it is well with my soul.