It works everytime

Remember when Billy Dee Williams was the epitome of cool? That slick texturized hair. That too cool mustache. That look that of constant I-am-way-cooler-than-you-could-ever-even-imagine look. Those cool clothes.

Remember when you used to see commercials for malt liquor on television?

Well, I guess Colt 45 is trying to bring some of that suaveness back to their merchandise. Today, while driving down Forest Park Parkway, I saw an ad on a bus stop for Colt 45. Here's the advertisement:
I guess they are trying to give The Most Interesting Man in the World a run for his money.

Too bad Billy Dee doesn't look like this anymore. Fortunately, most of the people who still drink Colt 45 still try and look like him, though. Well, unfortunately for all of us who have to look at them, but fortunately for the company.

WTFXUP?!

I've always been a fan of the English language. I like to look up new words and learn the meanings of them. I also love editing people's writing.

Apparently, that is not a love that all people have. Today there is a prevalence of text-speak. It has grown so much that I actually have students turn in work with some of the words written as though they are text-messaging a friend.

It doesn't stop with the children, though.

If you are looking for a new church, the one behind my house always seems to have a lot of people. And they just got one of those electric signs that has words moving across it.

The sign welcomes people to their "santuary."

I guess that might be a room adjacent to their sanctuary - maybe where the choir practices before they come out and sing to the congregation.

Let them eat cake

Another season of track behind me. Of course, there always has to be some kind of drama associated with the trip. This time it was the school's credit card being declined when I go to check in at the hotel. What?! Yes. Declined. It was already after school hours, so calling the AD didn't help much. Thankfully, though, he put the total on his card over night and called the school people in the morning to straighten it out.

Friday at the track, I had a moment where I almost reverted to anger over the old school State drama.

Sat talking with some of the people I coach summer track with. The guy who used to interview me when I was at the old place came up and sat down with the crew. Of course, he remembers me and asks if I saw how the old school did. I said yes. I was there the first day and checked in the second day to see how it ended up. He asked if I was mad I left so soon, I took a deep breath and told him that I had to leave for teaching reasons (sanity) and that I even though BG doesn't tell other people that he gets his ideas from me, I know, the other coaches know, and the kids have to have some sort of an idea. I told him that that team is like a cake. I made a home-made cake -- picked out the ingredients, made sure they all went well together, threw out the bad stuff, kept the good, baked, tasted, rebaked, until it was all good. BG has not just taken the pre-made batter, but still has the original cook adding the icing on the top.

My analogy that brings me peace. Cheesy, but it works.

The weekend was great. Even though I had just one kid competing, I had his brother come along. The kids are so awesome. Had me cracking up constantly. Coaches were cool too.

To top it all off, I was privileged to witness the high school national record holder for high jump. (Sucked that the year I get a high jumper through to state, there is a kid who has jumped 7'5 3/4" and is ranked #9 in the world.) Very nice to see.

And the summer track girls I help coach from the various schools did great. The high school I graduated from won the whole thing on the girls side.

And I didn't have to come out of pocket on the trip -- first time in years.

Now just one more day of school. Then a teacher work day. Then summer vacation. (My mantra and goal is to do like the munchkins (little people) from "The Wizard of Oz" -- "We get up at twelve and start to work at one. Take an hour for lunch, and then at two we're done. Jolly good fun."

Calgon... (or anyone) take me away!!

There is something about coming back to school after Memorial Day that is really irking me this year. That along with the fact that the authorities at this school are making going to State way more difficult than it needs to be -- especially considering that I am taking one competing athlete.

The children don't seem to understand that their finals start on Thursday and that my giving them three days last week and a long weekend to work on their projects was so that they wouldn't be frantically working during the time I had planned to review today.

There is no air conditioning in the room -- which is a problem when there is only one 2x2 window that leans open in the room.

We are to have a track banquet after school that is also causing way more drama on the side of the admin than is necessary.

Get me out of here.

More bitter than sweet

Throughout this track season I have had some days when I question my decision to leave my last coaching position. I guess it wasn't a choice to leave that job, more to leave the teaching position and all the b.s. associated with it.

As the season progressed and I continued to see my old kids excel, it got even harder. As my new crew of kids try to adjust to actually working out and having to sweat, occasionally hurt, and learn new form, it got harder. I still love my old kids and wished them the best.

The current coach called, emailed, or texted me weekly to get ideas for workouts and who to put in which events and what orders to run the relays. I even helped my replacement when he had questions about how to work with the lady-coach that is there. It was like I was coaching two teams.

This past weekend, they won the State championship. Awesome, right? I worked 5 years to get them to that point. Got really close last year - 4th place with very few kids at the meet. I went to watch them the first day. Saw them break some meet records - awesome. Even was texting and calling one of my all-time favorite athletes during my drive to Jefferson City giving him advice after he asked my opinion on how he should run his race that day.

I was still coaching him through his final meet.

I proceeded to help the coach see what he could tell his kids about that evening so they would continue to run well the second day of the State meet.

He did awesome. Won the 100, 200, 400, and a relay. They won the whole meet. Set a new record for their class for the most points scored in the State meet.

Sweet.

I want nothing more for those kids to do well. They deserve it. They work hard for it.

Yet bitter. I have rejoiced with them, but at the same time I am bitter that it will not be my name in the records for coaching them. I am bitter that I am not the one being interviewed. I am bitter that the current coach, who has been blowing up my shit to get advice, has not once mentioned me in an interview. That bothers me. And the main guy who interviews the coaches at the school knows me and what I have done to bring the program up. The other guy will be anointed coach of the year in the fall when we have our state conference of coaches. I doubt if I will get a shout out there, either.

Bitter.

What makes it even harder is that I've only got one kid who made it to our State meet for next weekend. I understand and accept that I have taken on a greater challenge at this school. I understand that the competition is way harder here. I understand that I am starting over just as I did at the last school and that it may take another four years to build a competitive program. (Seriously, I am working with kids of such unheard of levels that I had one boy run a 400 and pee on himself during the race (while running a 68-second quarter), I had a kid think he was a superstar 100m runner and then run slower than all the girls at a meet that occurred elsewhere in town the same day, I have had guys quit the team, kicked kids off the team, had kids who preferred to go get an oil change rather than work on handoffs leading into the District championship, and so much more that I may get into another time.) I understand that I am at a bigger school and that that provides me an opportunity to (possibly) do even more than I did at the last place. I have what has turned out to be some pretty awesome colleagues (though some of them complain about stuff like little punks). But it will be hard to get to the point where we are truly competitive in the conference and state level where we are positioned. I accept that.

It upsets me that I am so upset by all of this. I am not usually bothered. When I coached at the other school, I never really did it for the accolades. Right now, I am definitely not doing it for attention - if anything, at this point, I am not ready to let people know who is coaching the 15 second 100m runners, and the 11 foot long jumpers. I take pride in my work, I have some kids who have drastically improved over this season, but I'm still not ready to be sporting the team colors and logos all over my clothes.

Question is, why am I letting myself get so bent out of shape about this?

Not sure.

I am hoping that after this weekend, lots of sulking, some venting, very few congratulations, some over indulgences of various kinds, and continuously laughing at the Mike Tyson-singing-Phil Collins preview to the movie "The Hangover" I will finally be over it.

I don't like feeling bitter.

Wanda Sykes: White House Correspondence Dinner

Not sure why they had someone like her there, but she had some funny moments. Some low blows, but some good comedy in there, too. Not sure they will bring her back again.





President Obama gave a good speech and had some funny moments himself. He (or his writers) got some good jabs at a bunch of folks as well. Even had himself cracking up at a few points.