Looking at my last post, it reflected what goes wrong. This week was another one of those weeks, but instead of what goes wrong, it was filled with what is so very right. I was privileged to be part of and witness the power of passion.
Farmington is a QComp district and at FHS, we work to make the most of the program. One part of the program are Professional Development Plans and Portfolios. The Plans are ideas, concepts and action plans teacher want to use to improve student achievement, the portfolios are the data and artifacts. A small group of us review both and what we saw amazed us. Teachers at their innovative best, doing great things in their classroom and students responding. It was breathtaking.
As we read the documents, the air in the room became charged..."read this!" "Look at that, we need to have that shared with the whole staff.!" We couldn't stop reading and we couldn't stop talking. The dedication of the FHS staff to the achievement of 1,900 students is simply inspiring. It was for us a day of celebration.
This brings me to the larger picture. I spent many a day in meetings during my tenure in Corporate America. Virtually every meeting was concerned with how to get other companies to buy what they probably do not need because that meant higher profits and bigger salaries and bonuses. They were mind-boggling exhausting. I never, ever found a greater purpose in those meetings.
What has thrilled me since I entered the teaching profession 11 years ago is the fire and passion teachers have for their students, for their subject area, for being creative and collaborative...all to bring the best out in each other and in their students. Teachers do not do what they do for money, they do it for the greater good. They do it despite being criticized in person, in public and as fodder for political gain. They do it because they recognize the need for an educated civil society. Our society will not be sustained by ipads and iphones, 24/7 news, reality shows and unadulterated greed. Our society will be sustained by citizens knowing and doing for the greater good, using their amassed knowledge to discern the truth, having compassion and understanding for EVERYONE within our borders.
It is May and some people will begin the chant of teachers have the summer off..how lazy. What I see are teachers stretching to reach students as the final days of the school year race across the calendar. I see teachers looking to next year already. I hear all over FHS teachers looking at the summer as a time to get together to improve, to innovate, to collaborate all in order to educate. That is passion, sweet, sweet passion.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Friday, April 20, 2012
Then there are those weeks....
As we march our way through any given school year, there is a glob of time that moves along. The alarm goes off on Monday morning and the next thing you know it's Friday night. Not a good week, but not necessarily a bad week, it was just a week. Then there are those weeks....
It started off innocently enough but there was a hint of uneasiness. At first I thought it was the upcoming MCA testing extravaganza. Two fabulous days of testing our students on their mastery of reading, writing and math. We reminded them to get sleep Monday night and eat breakfast on Tuesday morning. Standing in front of gittery students our words of comfort went something like this, "Just think every 9th, 10th and 11th grader in Minnesota will be writing and bubbling along with you this morning. In other words, you are not alone in your misery."
Testing over, 9th grade students got back to business the next day. I commend the Civics teacher with whom I am honored to be with twice each day. She has unbridled faith in 9th graders, that is that they can read and comprehend, organize thoughts, use higher order thinking skills, put it all together and communicate effectively. Her faith was sorely stretched. For several days students researched the issues in the Minnesota legislature...racino, Vikings Stadium, Right to Work, and Gay Rights Amendment. Students were to debate the issue. First up was Right to Work. Lined up in desks in the front of the room were three students taking the position for the Right to Work, three others again it. First question out of the box...what is a union? Silence followed.....more silence.....more silence. Finally one student muttered...people pay dues to the company to buy gas....more silence.
Staying with gas, let's move onto gasbags. We all know those folks, people who prattle on and on and your job is to try and figure out what they are talking about and exactly the point of it all. I tend to get a massive headache. At a meeting Thursday morning, our resident gasbag walked in late. Looking up I reminded myself of my prayer on Sunday mornings to not be harsh, not be cruel, not be condesending. 1.5 seconds into his whining I launched in, fist on table and raised voice. A bit later our principal had to call time out. It was not nice...I know what I'll be doing Sunday morning.
What sapped my strength though was drugs and neglect. Drugs derailed a student who I thought was going to make it to graduation in June. I watched a steady decline over the past month. Hoping every day he would turn the corner, he didn't. Next week it is off to treatment, graduation and future on hold. I boil inside knowing we can stop the drugs flooding into our communities, our homes, our schools. But we won't because there is too much money to be made by too many people. A professor I had in college once said, "Big, big business is bad, bad, bad." Drugs are big business.
Neglect and verbal abuse are something you can't see...it leaves no visible marks. You only see the results. One of my students hasn't been home for a while. We held onto a sliver of hope because while not going home, she came to school every day and she tried. This week she didn't until today. Quickly putting emotional support bandaids on as fast as we could, all we can hope is they last until Monday. If they do, she will be back. We've called in Dakota County Social Services. I don't understand the meager response. I do know funds in the county were cut to the bone.
Don't even get me started on the Vikings Stadium and the megabucks the Legislature is about to bestow on the purple and gold. It's been one of those weeks.
It started off innocently enough but there was a hint of uneasiness. At first I thought it was the upcoming MCA testing extravaganza. Two fabulous days of testing our students on their mastery of reading, writing and math. We reminded them to get sleep Monday night and eat breakfast on Tuesday morning. Standing in front of gittery students our words of comfort went something like this, "Just think every 9th, 10th and 11th grader in Minnesota will be writing and bubbling along with you this morning. In other words, you are not alone in your misery."
Testing over, 9th grade students got back to business the next day. I commend the Civics teacher with whom I am honored to be with twice each day. She has unbridled faith in 9th graders, that is that they can read and comprehend, organize thoughts, use higher order thinking skills, put it all together and communicate effectively. Her faith was sorely stretched. For several days students researched the issues in the Minnesota legislature...racino, Vikings Stadium, Right to Work, and Gay Rights Amendment. Students were to debate the issue. First up was Right to Work. Lined up in desks in the front of the room were three students taking the position for the Right to Work, three others again it. First question out of the box...what is a union? Silence followed.....more silence.....more silence. Finally one student muttered...people pay dues to the company to buy gas....more silence.
Staying with gas, let's move onto gasbags. We all know those folks, people who prattle on and on and your job is to try and figure out what they are talking about and exactly the point of it all. I tend to get a massive headache. At a meeting Thursday morning, our resident gasbag walked in late. Looking up I reminded myself of my prayer on Sunday mornings to not be harsh, not be cruel, not be condesending. 1.5 seconds into his whining I launched in, fist on table and raised voice. A bit later our principal had to call time out. It was not nice...I know what I'll be doing Sunday morning.
What sapped my strength though was drugs and neglect. Drugs derailed a student who I thought was going to make it to graduation in June. I watched a steady decline over the past month. Hoping every day he would turn the corner, he didn't. Next week it is off to treatment, graduation and future on hold. I boil inside knowing we can stop the drugs flooding into our communities, our homes, our schools. But we won't because there is too much money to be made by too many people. A professor I had in college once said, "Big, big business is bad, bad, bad." Drugs are big business.
Neglect and verbal abuse are something you can't see...it leaves no visible marks. You only see the results. One of my students hasn't been home for a while. We held onto a sliver of hope because while not going home, she came to school every day and she tried. This week she didn't until today. Quickly putting emotional support bandaids on as fast as we could, all we can hope is they last until Monday. If they do, she will be back. We've called in Dakota County Social Services. I don't understand the meager response. I do know funds in the county were cut to the bone.
Don't even get me started on the Vikings Stadium and the megabucks the Legislature is about to bestow on the purple and gold. It's been one of those weeks.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Sending Them Away
Almost every day I like what I do, working with special education students. I find that most of the time they have a better perspective on life than most adults. They are keenly aware of the human failings because they are the victims of those failings. Some retreat within themselves, others rage, all are wounded. They are doing their best to navigate the expectations, rules, regulations and demands of growing up. Once in a while a student comes along who despite our best efforts to support him, cannot navigate, cannot reach out and hold on, cannot "fake it till he makes it." Today I had to send that student away.
I don't like sending students away, not because of a sense of failure but because I don't like to see a student in such mental anquish, tortured life at this time in his life. As I sat at the meeting and Mom tried to lash out at our failings, tried to put digs into the school for not being up to the task of helping her child. I knew what I had to say and I knew it was going to hurt. Yes, I replied, we are not up to the task. Your child needs more mental health services than we can provide, he is that deeply hurt, in that much pain, is so very lost. With that, Mom put her head down, silent, staring off as we concluded the meeting. She shook my hand at the end, each of us nodding quietly acknowleding the depth of her son's needs.
I walked downstairs into my 1st hour class, looked over at a small, impish 9th grader who has just arrived from another state. He has told me he is not right in his mind. I think he right. I looked at him and thought, we will work hard for him, but how long will it be until I have to gather everyone around the table and send him away.
I like what I do, but not today.
I don't like sending students away, not because of a sense of failure but because I don't like to see a student in such mental anquish, tortured life at this time in his life. As I sat at the meeting and Mom tried to lash out at our failings, tried to put digs into the school for not being up to the task of helping her child. I knew what I had to say and I knew it was going to hurt. Yes, I replied, we are not up to the task. Your child needs more mental health services than we can provide, he is that deeply hurt, in that much pain, is so very lost. With that, Mom put her head down, silent, staring off as we concluded the meeting. She shook my hand at the end, each of us nodding quietly acknowleding the depth of her son's needs.
I walked downstairs into my 1st hour class, looked over at a small, impish 9th grader who has just arrived from another state. He has told me he is not right in his mind. I think he right. I looked at him and thought, we will work hard for him, but how long will it be until I have to gather everyone around the table and send him away.
I like what I do, but not today.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
The 4th of July and an American Tradition--Class Warfare
Summer has finally arrived in Minnesota. Today is warm and sunny, the sky is an amazing blue, there is a hint of breeze and the birds sitting in the trees are quietly conversing. It is the 4th of July weekend and most folks are relaxing with friends, puttering in the yard, fishing, or camping. Camping is popular in Minnesota and people flock to the state parks to enjoy the outdoors. Say what? The state government is shut down? No camping in state parks? That's right, no camping, no full functioning government. The doors are locked, the boys and girls of the legislature are in their home districts for the weekend explaining why the other side is bad, bad, bad.
We are in the midst of class and regional warfare. People say that we aren't and if we are it's a new thing. Really? Anyone care to wander down the American history trail with a little twist? For starters, how about the division in the colonies. While a great many leaders came from the privileged landowners, the division between Tories and Colonialist centered on economic lines. Most Tories were loyal to the Crown because it suited their economic needs, for the Colonists, the Crown was strangling their economic prowess. Oh, yes of course there was that thing about freedom and self rule, but when the contest was won, who ruled? The landowners. The Constitution provides for direct election but with the caveat of the Electoral College, to save the country from the stupidity of the common man.
Let's skip along to the election of Andrew Jackson, the first of the common men to hold office. He reveled in breaking the back of the Bank of the United States because he was determined to slow down the power grab of the wealthy in the US. He was hated and despised by the wealthy but he was one tough son of a bitch and he prevailed. Move along to the Civil War.
The Civil War was the in ultimate regional and class warfare and it was steeped in a moral issue, slavery. The North made its money in manufacturing, the South in agriculture. The North used all the immigrants living in poverty and squalor to man its factories, the South used slaves. Men in the North could pay for someone to take their place in the ranks. (We will see that come again about 100 years later.) The war cost hundreds of thousands of casualties in the wounded and the dead.
Entering the Industrial Revolution, men like Andrew Carnegie worked the men in his steel plants six and a half days a week for 264 days a year. The only day they got off was the 4th of July. Men worked for pennies and he made millions. When men tried to unionize for decent pay and working conditions, he brought out the police thugs who beat the strikers. It was the unions working to organize men to fight for basic working rights and it did take enlightened leaders such as Theodore Roosevelt to force change. (there are always those who are contrary to their social class...Eleanor Roosevelt was another such wonderful person.) It was only in his later years, with the meeting with his Maker coming up did Carnegie start to give away his money, but even then his name had to be plastered on everything...just so the common man knew who his benefactor was. OK, kids still with me? Jump to the 1960'
The 1960's are a subject all its own with civil rights, assassinations and Vietnam, but I'm going to take just Vietnam for this. Vietnam was regional and class warfare. How? On both coasts the determination to protest was huge. There were marches and campus sit in and daily discussions in the high school hallways and every kitchen table about stopping the war. In the midwest, a more conservative region of the country, and the south which is even more conservative, the support for the Vietnam War stayed the longest. While the men fighting the war came from across the country because of the draft, it was predominately fought by the poor and minorities. A deferment was given to men going to college and they went by the thousands. I met one guy who was a student at Farleigh Dickinson University for seven years waiting out the war. When the war ended in 1974, he graduated the following spring.
Jump 15 years to the 1980's and Ronald Reagan and trickle down economy where the wealthy trickle their wealth down to the rest of us and you have it, class warfare out in the open for all to see. The rich became tremendously wealthy and the rest of us tried to tread water.
And so here we are today, the Minnesota Legislature couldn't pass a budget bill. The Republicans who mostly represent the rich and business class won't raise taxes, they only want to cut spending. Most of Minnesota's spending is on education and health and human services. In other words money is spent on those are not old enough to have money and power and those who are too old and/or are disenfranchised to have any power. The Governor wants to raise taxes on only those making a million dollars or more, so that tax would come out of discretionary money; unlike me, a new tax would come out of my milk money. So I say, thank you Governor Dayton for holding the line, sometimes there must be a clash in class warfare and something has to give...it's not just time to take a realistic view on spending, it's time again in our American way for class warfare. I'm not saying it's right or good, I'm just saying it's not new.
And for those living in another state, hold on, you too will have the chance to watch this play out as we march towards August 2, and the need to resolve the issue of the debt ceiling. Listen carefully to the debate, the Sunday morning gasbags, the politicians....there it will be...class warfare.
We are in the midst of class and regional warfare. People say that we aren't and if we are it's a new thing. Really? Anyone care to wander down the American history trail with a little twist? For starters, how about the division in the colonies. While a great many leaders came from the privileged landowners, the division between Tories and Colonialist centered on economic lines. Most Tories were loyal to the Crown because it suited their economic needs, for the Colonists, the Crown was strangling their economic prowess. Oh, yes of course there was that thing about freedom and self rule, but when the contest was won, who ruled? The landowners. The Constitution provides for direct election but with the caveat of the Electoral College, to save the country from the stupidity of the common man.
Let's skip along to the election of Andrew Jackson, the first of the common men to hold office. He reveled in breaking the back of the Bank of the United States because he was determined to slow down the power grab of the wealthy in the US. He was hated and despised by the wealthy but he was one tough son of a bitch and he prevailed. Move along to the Civil War.
The Civil War was the in ultimate regional and class warfare and it was steeped in a moral issue, slavery. The North made its money in manufacturing, the South in agriculture. The North used all the immigrants living in poverty and squalor to man its factories, the South used slaves. Men in the North could pay for someone to take their place in the ranks. (We will see that come again about 100 years later.) The war cost hundreds of thousands of casualties in the wounded and the dead.
Entering the Industrial Revolution, men like Andrew Carnegie worked the men in his steel plants six and a half days a week for 264 days a year. The only day they got off was the 4th of July. Men worked for pennies and he made millions. When men tried to unionize for decent pay and working conditions, he brought out the police thugs who beat the strikers. It was the unions working to organize men to fight for basic working rights and it did take enlightened leaders such as Theodore Roosevelt to force change. (there are always those who are contrary to their social class...Eleanor Roosevelt was another such wonderful person.) It was only in his later years, with the meeting with his Maker coming up did Carnegie start to give away his money, but even then his name had to be plastered on everything...just so the common man knew who his benefactor was. OK, kids still with me? Jump to the 1960'
The 1960's are a subject all its own with civil rights, assassinations and Vietnam, but I'm going to take just Vietnam for this. Vietnam was regional and class warfare. How? On both coasts the determination to protest was huge. There were marches and campus sit in and daily discussions in the high school hallways and every kitchen table about stopping the war. In the midwest, a more conservative region of the country, and the south which is even more conservative, the support for the Vietnam War stayed the longest. While the men fighting the war came from across the country because of the draft, it was predominately fought by the poor and minorities. A deferment was given to men going to college and they went by the thousands. I met one guy who was a student at Farleigh Dickinson University for seven years waiting out the war. When the war ended in 1974, he graduated the following spring.
Jump 15 years to the 1980's and Ronald Reagan and trickle down economy where the wealthy trickle their wealth down to the rest of us and you have it, class warfare out in the open for all to see. The rich became tremendously wealthy and the rest of us tried to tread water.
And so here we are today, the Minnesota Legislature couldn't pass a budget bill. The Republicans who mostly represent the rich and business class won't raise taxes, they only want to cut spending. Most of Minnesota's spending is on education and health and human services. In other words money is spent on those are not old enough to have money and power and those who are too old and/or are disenfranchised to have any power. The Governor wants to raise taxes on only those making a million dollars or more, so that tax would come out of discretionary money; unlike me, a new tax would come out of my milk money. So I say, thank you Governor Dayton for holding the line, sometimes there must be a clash in class warfare and something has to give...it's not just time to take a realistic view on spending, it's time again in our American way for class warfare. I'm not saying it's right or good, I'm just saying it's not new.
And for those living in another state, hold on, you too will have the chance to watch this play out as we march towards August 2, and the need to resolve the issue of the debt ceiling. Listen carefully to the debate, the Sunday morning gasbags, the politicians....there it will be...class warfare.
Monday, May 9, 2011
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.
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.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
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."
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."
Monday, April 4, 2011
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.
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.
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