Unhinged

Sitting on my front porch, I'm looking at the trees desperately trying to bud out so their leaves will grow and prosper, or is it me...am I desperate for them to show up? I'm beginning to think I'm coming unhinged. Desperate is probably not the right word, frustrated is. I'm frustrated that spring is so late this year, I mean, really, almost mid-May and awaiting the leaves on the trees? Living in Minnesota Twins Territory isn't so hot either, Mauer is no where to be seen, Morneau shows up and that is about it. . . .what's going on?
Years ago, a therapist told me that I was arrogant, I knew what was right for my parents and brother...well sister, turns out I was right, tragically right. But ever since, I've worked on burying my thoughts as to not be arrogant. Sometime it works, sometimes it doesn't. Today, it didn't. I'm on a committee at the high school, which struggles with making decisions. Now I know that Minnesotans work hard to discuss things completely and not to hurt anyone's feelings, but oh my Lord, we think we have a plan, and then we don't. Things are not brought out on the table, people sit quietly and nod heads in agreement. But what is actually happening is the fine art of passive aggressive behavior.
So today the Jersey Girl came out. I called it as I saw it, I said what I meant and meant what I said...and perhaps became unhinged. . .perhaps became arrogant...but I gotta tell ya...it felt good.

Mind and Body

An article in last Sunday's Star Tribune was quite candid. According to the article, health care costs are simply out of sight because we want to live too long. Instead of meeting our maker in our late 60's and early 70's, we want to hit the longevity jackpot and stay around, well, forever, but at least 90 will do. I do agree somewhat with the article's author, but I don't want to be the first on my block to give up the life prolonging drugs or surgeries or other medical miracles that will come my way in the not too distant future.
The next day at school, I shared with my fellow teachers in the EBD Suite 1202, what I read. We quickly moved the conversation what would worse, the body or the mind going first. As we talked, I got up to get a cup of coffee, mindful of the PAIN my legs, back and feet as I moved slowly to the coffee pot. At that moment, my vote was the body. As the day progressed and my body stopped screaming at me, I forgot about our conversation. After the students went home, the second part of the day began...paperwork, lots and lots of paperwork. There are lesson plans, grading papers, IEPs, Evaluation Reports, progress reports.
I finished an IEP and sent it off to the printer in the teacher's workroom. In the workroom are the bathrooms and a kitchen, along with mailboxes, and lunchtables. I gave the printer a few minutes and walked down to the workroom. I walked in and oooooo, the woman's bathroom was open. Better do my business while its free. All done, I walk back to Suite 1202, get to my desk..ugh, forgot the IEP. I walk down the hallway, hang a left and walk in the door directly facing the kitchen and printer off to the side. Ooooooooo, there on the kitchen counter was fresh bread and butter for the taking. I zip over and slather up a piece of bread and walk back to Suite 1202...I get to my desk and realize, no IEP. Standing with my fists on the desk and my head down, my fellow teacher asks what's wrong. I said, "I change my vote, I'll take the aches and pains..give me my mind."

Bert and Dick, not Bert and Ernie--although I miss them

I waited with bated breath throughout the week of March 27, not because my 58th birthday was four days away, no, it was because on April 1st, Bert and Dick were going to be nightly guests in my family room. Bert Blyleven, the newly minted Hall of Fame pitcher and Dick Bremer, a career calling the plays guy are the announcers for the Minnesota Twins.

While I have always enjoyed watching baseball, having spent many of my days watching Yankee baseball and listening to Phil Rizzuto exclaim "holy cow" for every great play made by the Bronx Bombers, Bert and Dick make the world seem right. While Phil always praised the Yankees and jeered the competitor, Bert and Dick call a game purely on the merits.

Twins catcher, Joe Mauer hits a home run, Bert and Dick sing his praise, Jose Posada of the Yankees hits a home run, they cheer for him as well. ( I use the Yankees not only because I was weaned on them, but as I write this, our Twins are sinking in Yankee stadium.) In other words, they call what they see in good baseball, no matter what uniform the player wears. They love the game and the skills and talents needed to play the game...they are silent though on the big bucks involved.

And they are characters. At the beginning of the season, Bert will let us know how many days there are until his birthday on April 23, and for the rest of the season he will continue the countdown until the next April. He uses the teleprompter to "circle me Bert"where people bring signs to Target Field and when they prop them up, Bert will put a big old circle around them. It's pure joy to hear Bert say, "You are hereby circled!" They always get the trivia questions right, somehow. They use their California math to figure out how many hits a player may have during the game. They give each other a hard time...all in good fun. They are just fun to listen to. They have an honesty and simplicity of friendship that comes across during the telecast...just like Bert and Ernie. You know Bert and Ernie, a friendship ended tragically through the efforts of the uber-right.

It's spring, sort of in Minnesota, it's Twins Baseball, and it's a full spring, summer and fall filled with Bert and Dick...the sun and moon are aliened and the stars are shining bright. Thanks Bert, thanks, Dick, you are always welcome in our family room.

It's nice to get birthday wishes

I think I'm really coming to terms with this beyond middle aged life. It became apparent yesterday as Ted and I walked into the Pioneer Art Museum in Fargo. I sighed as I did the older lady waddle walk because my hips were hurting as I ascended the large marble steps to the reception desk. The young lady at the desk welcomed us and told us about the exhibits on the upper three floors, smiling sweetly she pointed out the elevator. Somehow I knew she didn't do that for the younger crowd. She continued that the admission was $5.00 for adults but if we happened to be over 55, it was $4.00. Without hesitation, I slapped Ted's arm and said yippee. It was the first time I didn't scowl when someone mentioned the double nickel number to me in relation to age.

Today is the magic day, the day I turned 58. It's kind of no man land in the aging cycle. Beyond that easily made fun of 55 and not quite 60, another heroic age marker. So what is it that 58 years of living brings to mind? First, any projection beyond 30 years, say, all the oceans will sweep over the earth because of global warming, gain a response of "don't care won't be here and if I am, I think I'll be more concerned with being able to climb stairs."

Second, my generation that was determined to change the world, did indeed but not in the way many of us imagined. I see missed opportunities, not just how the world would have been different without the problems provided by my parent's generation...Vietnam, assassination of the Kennedy Brothers and Martin Luther King. But those missed by mine, the election of Regan who in my mind is one of the worst Presidents ever. I saw Walter Mondale one day this summer as I was in the middle of getting my eye exam. With my eyes dilated open, trying to see what I looked like in several pairs of frames, I saw a man walk up to the clerk behind the counter and ask to have his glasses adjusted. He looked like Walter Mondale and sounded like him but I wasn't sure. When the clerk returned with the glasses, and the recipient said thank you, I knew it was him. I turned and stared at him and he looked at me. I wanted to run to him and tell him that I had voted for him all those years ago. That I had believed in his message that we were headed in the wrong direction, that we needed to work for the common good and not only for our own wallets. I wanted to tell Walter Mondale how sorry I was that he hadn't won and in how we all lost in 1984. Instead I nodded to him and he to me and he walked away.

Third, I've started to let go of what could have been. I still get frustrated and angry, especially now at the selfishness of our legislators, the right wing nut jobs out on the stump drumming up hatred and thanking those in New Hampshire for their fight at Concord and Lexington. Need I write any more? I get infuriated at the MN legislature where being a teacher is equal to incompetent, yet none of these folks are teachers themselves. But they all went to school and therefore are experts....hmmm...I've read a lot of legal mysteries...can I join the MN Bar? And while I can still get revved up and will still state the case for the common good and decency, I am also looking at a smaller stage.

I look at the journey I've been on so far and am so very grateful. I have wonderful children who are working hard to be a positive influence in this world. The gals are married to wonderful guys and the lone guy is finding his way through those tough early 20's years. ( Just like high school, I'd never want to go back there, not even for the pain free body.) I have a wonderful husband who took me on a trip this week for rest and relaxation. My idea of time away is reading, sleeping and reading some more. Despite how bored he is, and he is, he is hanging in there with me. I have an extended family I truly adore and friends who are thoughtful and kind. I've been blessed, not sure why but I'll take it. Thank you to all for the birthday wishes and let's all keep on keeping on.

A New Year's Resolution

Over the past few days, I've spent time reading and listening to news accounts about the issues and needs in the US over the past decade, 2010 and the coming year and years. Several things I found humorous, several disheartening, some uplifting and overall they gave me an idea about a resolution for the new year. I'm not a New Year's resolution person but I think this one is worthwhile.

One that I found humorous was an article in the January 1, New York Times. On the front page one of the first baby boomers to reach 65 was highlighted. The writer took well deserved jabs at Baby Boomers. As I read the article, I chuckled because it was exactly what Lance Morrow an editorial writer for Time magazine, wrote 25 years ago about the self absorbed, entitled feeling, whining Baby Boomers. According to the New York Times writer it still holds true. Morrow, a greatest generation member and the New York Times writer, a millennium, book end us, the Baby Boomers and both wrote with disdain. We baby boomers started off well, we wanted to change the world for the good, but we got hoodwinked in the 1980's...greed became good, we tasted and never looked back.

The uplifting was the heart that average Americans showed through our wallets to help those suffering in Haiti. So much was done wrong because of bickering between agencies and ineptitude of the Haitian government, but American's always knowing that we must help those in need, poured forth monetary help and many who could, went to the front lines and assisted.

The list of disheartening was unfortunately very long. The BP oil spill and all the cost cutting measures that led to the disaster and the haughtiness of the BP CEO were unbearable. The news crews have left and at the end of the year, I'm wondering how our fellow Americans are faring. The mid term elections were foretold but that didn't make it any easier to swallow. OK, this is where my political bias comes in. I find it difficult to understand that with only two years under the influence of Democratic rule, Americans were ready for a change. Perhaps it's difficult for me to grasp because I felt I was in the wilderness for eight years. American wages have stagnated and actually declined in the past decade. I know what I'm talking about.

In 1976, I was able to buy a small Cape Cod house, had two new cars, a house full of new furniture and had a combined income of $18,000. Even taking into account inflation, you can't say things are equitable today. The first day of my first job in August of 1975, the payroll person told me I was working one day for the government and four for me. Now it's 2.5 for the government and 2.5 for me. And let me remind folks that in all my working career it's been Ford, Carter, Reagan, Bush I, Clinton, Bush II and Obama. That is four Republicans to two Democrats. I remember the last words of the 1980 Presidential Campaign. Reagan stood before the American public and asked one question. "Are you better off today than you were four years ago?" With that he won by a landslide the next day.
Looking long term over the past 10 years, are we better off? Now I know my Republican sisters could enlighten me about why the change in Washington and St. Paul are beneficial and may save us from dropping into the drink. The one thing I think we can agree upon is having our representatives not glare across the aisle, but look across the aisle and see a partner in governing and problem solving for the betterment of all.

This leads me to my New Year's Resolution. With the changing of the guard at both the Minnesota state capitol and House of Representatives in Washington, I will email my State and US Congressmen and Congresswoman once a month. My question will be targeted at the issue with one constant question. "What are you doing to cross the aisle and work to solve our problems?". I won't accept an answer about what the "other side" is doing wrong, or how if it weren't for the Tea Party or the liberal left. I will demand to know how my representative in government is finding common ground. Now I have no control over their response, if I receive anything coherent, but it will be my duty to ask...my resolution to question and prod. But I do have to keep in mind the great line from Gone with the Wind. Scarlett and Pork are engaged in a conversation about the taxed on Tara. Scarlett exclaims she is going to ask Ashley for the money. Pork states he doesn't have that kind of money. Scarlett replies she can ask if she wants to and storms out. To which Pork says with a heavy sigh, "Askin' ain't gettin." No it is not, but I'm going to ask anyway.

I'd be Thinkin'

It's that time when most folks are writing their year in review. Syndicated columnists, local journalists provide us with reflections on the doin's...Obama got lost, Obamacare is headed to the dumper, Nancy Pelosi, that evil woman drove the liberal agenda...the new Speaker of the House cries a great deal and what does that mean for the average citizen? The gas bag guests on PBS News Hour politely disagree with each other...we do know where Bin Laden is, no we don't, Pakistan is our friend, no its not...no matter, let's keep heaping billions of dollars upon it anyway.

Oh, and let's not forget Education! Secretary Duncan sees a place of great despair, but having states bid for money will make it better!! Just you wait and see. According to Arnie, schools do a shabby job of educating students, but under his plan, they will become a bastion of higher order thinking, a community where everyone will come together for everything...it will replace the community at large...bye, bye City of Farmington or Northfield, hello School Central. And it is with that I write my year end thoughts.

My perspective can only be based on what I know. I could recite the frustration felt by teachers when continually criticized by the public, government agencies and media. What's up Superman? I could explain the exhaustion felt when students come to school under the influence and the best thing the school can do is send them home. It cannot demand and certainly not request parents to get involved and help their students with their drug and drinking problems. I could outline the heavy weight of a hurt heart when a teacher works so hard to raise the standards, provide meaningful lessons, holds students accountable for their work, only to be torn to shreds in a nasty email. Parents want high standards, meaningful lessons and accountability for every student...but their own. I've walked with teachers down the hallway who were in tears because all their work, all their effort, all their commitment was challenged and then dismissed.

Many of my colleagues anticipated the Christmas break, yes, that is right, CHRISTMAS break, as much as the students did...and those of us who were honest enough admitted it to our students. We talk about the break in terms of renewing our strength, rejuvenating our minds. One thing you learn in education is that it is a human institution like no other. A class does not make it or break it on the curriculum...it does with the relationship, the atmosphere in the classroom. That is the hardest part of education...how do you connect with 35 students in the classroom? How do you talk to them, how do you get them to follow you and how do you provide an atmosphere where students feel safe. And mind you, not safe from the teacher, but each other.

But come next Monday, January 3, while we may enter the school groggy and with a sense of just what happened? We are back already? When the masses start coming in and we hear the chatter, our blood will start pumping. We'll begin to rev up our engines, look over the lesson plans and get ready to go. Oh, we know that first day we'll be faced with the huge wall of apathy...that's OK...we'll help our students take it down. We will be excited to get going again..no matter what Arnie, or the experts at the state department of education, or the critics may do...we may get bruised but we'll still love what we do. That is the wonder of being a teacher and being part of the great institution of American education.

Buying that Mother of the Bride Dress

Yesterday, that is Saturday, August 14, I bought my dress for Megan and Jason's wedding three weeks from now. For several months, friends have asked what kind of dress I bought, to which I answered, haven't done that yet. Even on a trip back East where I had the great opportunity to visit with a friend I hadn' seen in 18 years, one question she posed, "So what does your dress look like?" "Haven't bought it yet." She tried not to show a reaction but the crinkle of her brow said it all, "What!?"

Yes, many mothers of the brides would have purchased that bedazzling dress many moons ago, but not me. First and foremost, I hate shopping....a virtually life long distain for walking through perfume clogged air, florescent lights, racks and racks of clothes and tile floors. It goes back to the days of Mother calling me from a friendly game of stickball on the street, to "go shopping." Ugh, I'd trudge up the street into the 1959 Ford and off we'd go to Lord and Taylors or Best and Company. There I'd stand for hours as Mother stood at the glass counter case purchasing perfectly formed nylon stockings. The retail clerk, turning to an array of drawers, opening one and taking out a box filled with tissue papered nylon stockings. (Mother always paid more for the ones without the seam down the back.) The clerk would hold a pair up for Mother's inspection and as she pondered the right color and quality, I slid down the glass case front exhausted from standing for eternity and utter boredom. Purchase made but never carried home, that was for the UPS driver to do, we'd move onto MAKEUP...I can't relay what happened at that counter, forever blocking it out of my memory.

But yesterday, I knew it had to be done and so with my wonderful husband, off we went. After pulling into the Burnsville Mall parking lot, I handed the keys to Ted.

"Why give them to me? It's your car, you drive."

"No I don't want to drive home, I'll be too frustrated." With that he took the keys. Entering the mall, he reminded me that this wasn't shopping, it was a mission. Shopping is when you go out with your girlfriends and spend the whole day either buying everything or nothing. Really? My friends and I sit and buy coffee and laugh. Who knew?

Going from one department store to another it became apparent I would have to go to a specialty store. The taylored, simple dress I envisioned for my mind's eye 30 something body wasn't there. Not even the taylored, simple dress for the really almost 60 year old square body wasn't available. It was back in the car and off to David's Bridal and another world.



Opening the door to David's Bridal, I was almost stampeded by five young women laughing and cahorting as bridesmaid do, they too had probably just purchased dresses they will wear again... sure they will. As my eyes adjusted to the light and all the white wedding dresses, I heard Paul Anka telling me this was the time of my life. Ted and I made our way to the rack of mother of the bride dresses for bigger mommas, we did spot some very nice ones. Whew, it would most likely be the last stop. After discussing a few, I chose two to try on. A very nice young lady escorted me to a dressing room and waited outside with Ted. I liked the feel of the dress, a soft green with beading and a three quarter sleeve jacket. The full length skirt felt a bit snug but I liked the movement of it. Stepping out of the room and up onto the platform I looked at the woman in the mirrors, yes that's right mirrors. From every conceivable angle I saw...me. The young lady continued to chatter with me, I kept looking at Ted for a reaction. He sat motionless for a few minutes and finally said, "I like the dress on you, perhaps the next size would look better, it would flow better."

"Ah, you mean, this is too tight and shows all my rolls?" At that the young lady excused herself to "get something."

My husband, my dearest husband stepped up to me, took both my hands in his, looked at me with his wonderful blue eyes and said," I'm going to order that Chuck Norris exercise equipment, now that we have room for it since we cleaned up the upstairs hallway and you're going to exercise like crazy to get down to that girlish size 14. You know we haven't exercised all summer and all that ice cream and stuff we've been eating...."

"I can't believe you are saying that to me now...I mean, and I trailed off.

"I'll go get the next size", he whispered.

He did and I tried it on and after alterations to take it in which cost more than the dress, plus the slip and the shoes, the shopping, I mean the mission was done. Everything will be picked up Sept. 1, plenty of time for the wedding three days later.