This weekend I witnessed a sight that I haven't seen in about 28 years, a state basketball game. In my early years at Ortonville as a young teacher, I followed every game, hung on every shot, cried at every loss, and celebrated every win. Winter 1982, Ortonville went to the state basketball tournaments. We were beaten in our first game by Chisholm ( interesting that I still remember that). While it was devastating, what it did for our community was what every trip to the state tournament does for every community. We put aside our differences, and we became one.
This past weekend I was once again caught up in the proud community swell that is the state basketball tournament. This time we owe Coach Willie and the boy's basketball team from Columbia Heights for that great excitement that is the post season in any high school sport. What we really owe them is a debt of gratitude for uniting the community together behind something so significant as this ballgame. The Target center was a sea of blue and yellow for the three games this past week. Work did not allow me to see the preliminary games, but I know a bus was filled with people from our community, students on spring break got to see the game without missing school, and our fan support base was amazing.
In a sometimes divided community because of our immigration and diversity, all of the that seem insignificant as we cheered our team as they entered the arena to play that game. In my 15 years as a school board member, I have not witnessed such unification of our community even though we have tried, often with limited success, over the last few years. We have had pockets of small gains, but nothing as large as this game. We were not different groups of people, we were Hylanders. We bled blue and yellow. The past few efforts of collaboration will be testaments to the this series of games: when all is said and done, we love our kids, we love our school, we love community. You have heard our Mayor talk about it, you have heard our board chairs and superintendent talk about it, but nothing is as clear as standing together all in one cheering the rouser!
So thank you Willie, you believe in our students and our school. We are grateful and thankful for you and your leadership. Thank you Hylander basketball team and all teams, athletic and academic, you continue to give us reason to be proud of you and of our community. Let's remember the lesson of this weekend. No matter what color or language or place we come from, we are Hylanders and that is enough to believe in. We're going to fight for you our honor, our team so strong and true.
And that's the game!
Keith
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Got your nose......
This last weekend, Louise and I were lucky enough to escape the cold and snow to spend some time in Florida. While I could rant and rave about how beautiful the weather was, or that how cool it was to smell smells outside, or see a bee hovering through hibiscus plants, I noticed other things that I thought were more important to write about. When you were little, did your dad or mom play got your nose with you? You know the trick: an adult goes up to a younger person, pretends to grab his/her nose with two fingers, puts a thumb through the two fingers, and tells the little person "got your nose". The little one reacts for a moment, usually laughs after the adult releases the fingers, and for a short moment thinks this is a cool thing.
Always one to observe behaviors and wonder how it all fits into things, I saw this parent/child game happen many times on my visits to Universal Studios and the Magic Kingdom this past weekend. It was usually some parent who didn't anticipate a 45 minute wait to see Winnie the Pooh or ride Dumbo. The child was antsy in the stroller and dad tried to keep the youngster occupied by simple games, rarely successful for more than 20 seconds. Once in a great while, the child would respond in kind to the adult by doing the same with the adult pretending to be shocked at the loss of her/his nose.
Here is what is really cool about the whole thing. The amusement parks in Orlando are microcosms for the world. I can't tell you how many languages I heard in the days we were there. All of us waiting to ride something that would stretch our imaginations or put us on the edge of fear ( OK not the Jaws ride), all of us patiently in line for that great 10 minute escape.
The really remarkable thing on so many levels was that parents of all shapes, ages, genders all had one thing at the fore; they wanted their kids to have a great family memory. For many of us, it started with "got your nose". I can't tell you how many times in those days of visiting I saw "got your nose". I marveled at its universality; it knew no ethnicity. Pacific Islander parents go the nose of their children as did African parents as did Hispanic parents. There were so many noses lost the days at the park that had it been for real we would have generation of kids looking like Voldemort.
So I thought what a marvelous revelation. No matter where you are from, who you are, what you speak or look like, you are part of the silliness that is common to all of us. In the wake of the Japanese Tsunami, the trouble in the Northern Africa, the concerns for issues of the economy in our country, we are all united in a wonderful child's game that made us for a moment giggle and laugh. How cool is that?
Don't look now, got your nose!
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
Keith
Always one to observe behaviors and wonder how it all fits into things, I saw this parent/child game happen many times on my visits to Universal Studios and the Magic Kingdom this past weekend. It was usually some parent who didn't anticipate a 45 minute wait to see Winnie the Pooh or ride Dumbo. The child was antsy in the stroller and dad tried to keep the youngster occupied by simple games, rarely successful for more than 20 seconds. Once in a great while, the child would respond in kind to the adult by doing the same with the adult pretending to be shocked at the loss of her/his nose.
Here is what is really cool about the whole thing. The amusement parks in Orlando are microcosms for the world. I can't tell you how many languages I heard in the days we were there. All of us waiting to ride something that would stretch our imaginations or put us on the edge of fear ( OK not the Jaws ride), all of us patiently in line for that great 10 minute escape.
The really remarkable thing on so many levels was that parents of all shapes, ages, genders all had one thing at the fore; they wanted their kids to have a great family memory. For many of us, it started with "got your nose". I can't tell you how many times in those days of visiting I saw "got your nose". I marveled at its universality; it knew no ethnicity. Pacific Islander parents go the nose of their children as did African parents as did Hispanic parents. There were so many noses lost the days at the park that had it been for real we would have generation of kids looking like Voldemort.
So I thought what a marvelous revelation. No matter where you are from, who you are, what you speak or look like, you are part of the silliness that is common to all of us. In the wake of the Japanese Tsunami, the trouble in the Northern Africa, the concerns for issues of the economy in our country, we are all united in a wonderful child's game that made us for a moment giggle and laugh. How cool is that?
Don't look now, got your nose!
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
Keith
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
If You Lie With Dogs...
I have had dogs my entire life. If they weren’t living with me, I was close to friends and family that had them, or my own immediate family had dogs as pets. They were all shapes and sizes, old, young, large, and of course, the yippee small ones. It dawned on me the other morning when I get up and my younger dog had nestled himself into a block of lead against my leg that dogs really bring so many of life’s lessons to you. You have to listen of course.
We got Leo after Zach graduated from high school for many reasons. One reason we looked for another was that our older dog Susie had been with Samson most of her life. When he was no longer around, we thought it would be nice for her to have another companion during the long days when no one is there. Another was the concern that Dad would be lonely without the guys around the house. I think that was and still is probably true. I love my sons, and they have enriched my life more than I can possibly write about. I looked and looked in the paper, on line, at the animal shelter websites, and about any other place I could find. I decided I wanted a dog like Susie, our schnauzer-poo, because her temperament is amazing, she sheds little, and is a smart dog. After several attempts, we stumbled upon Leo who was an Iowan farm flood survivor, only 7 weeks old, and very, very small. Zach thought the name Leonidas ( leader of the 300 doomed Spartans) would be fit for a little puppy that had survived so much already.
Enough of the history; here is what I know about what I have learned from my dogs. Samson was our first dog with the boys. A border collie black lab cross, Sam taught me grace in old age. His last few years of life were difficult for him and for us as well as we had to make decisions about the quality of his life. Sam was gentle in the face of pain. He would sleep in the same spot and wake up and wag his tail no matter what. When we made the decision to put Sam asleep, it truly was the most difficult thing I have ever had to do. Having buried both of my parents, losing my first dog was heart wrenching. The afternoon when we returned home, the day was full of Sam stories. A fitting tribute to a great dog. The lessons: when you leave, make sure people speak well of you and love is patient.
Susie has always been of great temperament. Even as she gets older and more and more the velvet tube (as she is fondly called after grooming), she hears the garage door go up, immediately senses Louise is home, barks at the top of here lungs, and wags the tail so vigorously that anything close could be battered! She adapted quickly to Leo invading her space and comfortably spars with him over the stuffed toys Rick brings home every now and then. No longer able to jump up on our bed, she has her spot in the hall, back to the wall where she guards all three bedrooms in our house. She has this great floppy eared terrier look that instantly can cheer up the gloomiest of days. As she gets older, we all pay attention to the little changes in her knowing that she has blessed our days with her loyalty and unflinching love. The lesson: love bears, believes, hopes, and endures all things.
From the moment we brought Leo home, he has curled up and nestled against any body that is available. Louise contends that he was weaned too soon and needs that reassurance that his siblings in the litter provided. Every morning when I wake up, Leo is nestled close to me, not matter how many times I may have shoved him aside in the middle of the night; he is faithfully there. From the times when he was a puppy, there has been no other dog that can melt a heart like Leo. He knows how to pose for the camera, has a playfully mischievous look, and can make your day a whole lot better with a simple tilt of his head. He stands guard at the window watching the house like a sentry with a shrill bark. He can take Susie from a complacent older dog to a dog with vigor and gusto by simply grabbing the toy she has, tugging it and running away with it. He has added years to many of us. The lesson: love is not arrogant but perserveres.
The unique thing about dogs is they do all this without being taught to do it. They are inherently loyal, energetic, emotionally manipulative, and undyingly loving. In Marley and Me, John Grogan writes, “A dog has no use for fancy cars, big homes, or designer clothes. A water log stick will do just fine. A dog doesn't care if you’re rich or poor, clever or dull, smart or dumb. Give him your heart and he'll give you his. How many people can you say that about? How many people can make you feel rare and pure and special? How many people can make you feel extraordinary?”
WOOF
Keith
We got Leo after Zach graduated from high school for many reasons. One reason we looked for another was that our older dog Susie had been with Samson most of her life. When he was no longer around, we thought it would be nice for her to have another companion during the long days when no one is there. Another was the concern that Dad would be lonely without the guys around the house. I think that was and still is probably true. I love my sons, and they have enriched my life more than I can possibly write about. I looked and looked in the paper, on line, at the animal shelter websites, and about any other place I could find. I decided I wanted a dog like Susie, our schnauzer-poo, because her temperament is amazing, she sheds little, and is a smart dog. After several attempts, we stumbled upon Leo who was an Iowan farm flood survivor, only 7 weeks old, and very, very small. Zach thought the name Leonidas ( leader of the 300 doomed Spartans) would be fit for a little puppy that had survived so much already.
Enough of the history; here is what I know about what I have learned from my dogs. Samson was our first dog with the boys. A border collie black lab cross, Sam taught me grace in old age. His last few years of life were difficult for him and for us as well as we had to make decisions about the quality of his life. Sam was gentle in the face of pain. He would sleep in the same spot and wake up and wag his tail no matter what. When we made the decision to put Sam asleep, it truly was the most difficult thing I have ever had to do. Having buried both of my parents, losing my first dog was heart wrenching. The afternoon when we returned home, the day was full of Sam stories. A fitting tribute to a great dog. The lessons: when you leave, make sure people speak well of you and love is patient.
Susie has always been of great temperament. Even as she gets older and more and more the velvet tube (as she is fondly called after grooming), she hears the garage door go up, immediately senses Louise is home, barks at the top of here lungs, and wags the tail so vigorously that anything close could be battered! She adapted quickly to Leo invading her space and comfortably spars with him over the stuffed toys Rick brings home every now and then. No longer able to jump up on our bed, she has her spot in the hall, back to the wall where she guards all three bedrooms in our house. She has this great floppy eared terrier look that instantly can cheer up the gloomiest of days. As she gets older, we all pay attention to the little changes in her knowing that she has blessed our days with her loyalty and unflinching love. The lesson: love bears, believes, hopes, and endures all things.
From the moment we brought Leo home, he has curled up and nestled against any body that is available. Louise contends that he was weaned too soon and needs that reassurance that his siblings in the litter provided. Every morning when I wake up, Leo is nestled close to me, not matter how many times I may have shoved him aside in the middle of the night; he is faithfully there. From the times when he was a puppy, there has been no other dog that can melt a heart like Leo. He knows how to pose for the camera, has a playfully mischievous look, and can make your day a whole lot better with a simple tilt of his head. He stands guard at the window watching the house like a sentry with a shrill bark. He can take Susie from a complacent older dog to a dog with vigor and gusto by simply grabbing the toy she has, tugging it and running away with it. He has added years to many of us. The lesson: love is not arrogant but perserveres.
The unique thing about dogs is they do all this without being taught to do it. They are inherently loyal, energetic, emotionally manipulative, and undyingly loving. In Marley and Me, John Grogan writes, “A dog has no use for fancy cars, big homes, or designer clothes. A water log stick will do just fine. A dog doesn't care if you’re rich or poor, clever or dull, smart or dumb. Give him your heart and he'll give you his. How many people can you say that about? How many people can make you feel rare and pure and special? How many people can make you feel extraordinary?”
WOOF
Keith
Monday, February 28, 2011
"What's guh-guh-guh-guh—...what's happening?
Only the immortal words of Porky pig could put it so well. For most of my life, movies have provided a great escape. I will be the first to admit, while I enjoy a wonderfully well-put together classic film, I am a sucker for a Transformers or a Tron. I am looking forward with great anticipation this summer to Thor and Captain America. While the movies have provided an escape for me, once in a very great while, a film comes along that strikes a nerve and really touches my soul. For me this year, The King’s Speech was that film.
The life struggles that King George VI encountered because of his stuttering are so well played and so close to home that the film for me was a kind of cinematherapy.
I was a stutterer in grade school, and that stuttering and “stammering “ as Sister Mary Margaret called it needed to stop. If you see this marvelous film, you see the impact of stuttering on George’s life. He was content to marry, be in the King’s Navy, and raise his girls all in the shadow of his father and older brother. Quite a shy man, the thrust in the limelight at the abdication of his brother threw him into a position he was not emotionally prepared to enter. The film beautifully shows the brotherhood of George and his unorthodox speech instructor.
As I say to my students, enough plot; get to the discussion. Hi, I’m Keith and I stutter. While this is not a testimony for my stuttering, which I still do upon stressful situations, it is a chance to talk about the importance of the film, and what I can do to help those millions of people who stutter or stammer. Perhaps it’s unique that I ended up being a theatre speech major with my stutter. It really was more pronounced in elementary school where I would stutter, and of course, kids would tease. It wasn’t long that I found one of my best adolescent friends Tom, who stuttered and stammered worse than I did. Sister told me that my brain thinks too fast. That you can’t physically keep up with all the thoughts that you have to say so you stutter because of an intellectual “clog”.
The impact of the time of my life is dramatic. Combine the stuttering with the need to be the center of attention for others reasons provided quite a conundrum. I was taught to make a “square in the air” with my forefinger making the corner of the square a syllable of a word or a single syllable word. The concentration of making the square would slow the brain down and get me to enunciate every syllable of the word, slowing me down to make my speech regular. It was amazing how successful this technique was. I have no clue if Sister Mary Margaret was trained or if she just knew what to do; whatever that reason, it worked.
I still have coping skills for my stuttering in my adult life. It doesn’t happen too much anymore, but my wife jokingly calls it going into my “stage voice”. Yup, that would be one way. Another way I have learned to deal with this is by singing. Singing has set beat pattern and rhythm that keeps you from “ going too fast”.
King George puts it this way in the film:
Lionel Logue: What was your earliest memory?
King George VI: I'm not... -here to discuss... -personal matters.
Lionel Logue: Why are you here then?
King George VI: Because I bloody well stammer!
Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-... That's all, folks
Keith
The life struggles that King George VI encountered because of his stuttering are so well played and so close to home that the film for me was a kind of cinematherapy.
I was a stutterer in grade school, and that stuttering and “stammering “ as Sister Mary Margaret called it needed to stop. If you see this marvelous film, you see the impact of stuttering on George’s life. He was content to marry, be in the King’s Navy, and raise his girls all in the shadow of his father and older brother. Quite a shy man, the thrust in the limelight at the abdication of his brother threw him into a position he was not emotionally prepared to enter. The film beautifully shows the brotherhood of George and his unorthodox speech instructor.
As I say to my students, enough plot; get to the discussion. Hi, I’m Keith and I stutter. While this is not a testimony for my stuttering, which I still do upon stressful situations, it is a chance to talk about the importance of the film, and what I can do to help those millions of people who stutter or stammer. Perhaps it’s unique that I ended up being a theatre speech major with my stutter. It really was more pronounced in elementary school where I would stutter, and of course, kids would tease. It wasn’t long that I found one of my best adolescent friends Tom, who stuttered and stammered worse than I did. Sister told me that my brain thinks too fast. That you can’t physically keep up with all the thoughts that you have to say so you stutter because of an intellectual “clog”.
The impact of the time of my life is dramatic. Combine the stuttering with the need to be the center of attention for others reasons provided quite a conundrum. I was taught to make a “square in the air” with my forefinger making the corner of the square a syllable of a word or a single syllable word. The concentration of making the square would slow the brain down and get me to enunciate every syllable of the word, slowing me down to make my speech regular. It was amazing how successful this technique was. I have no clue if Sister Mary Margaret was trained or if she just knew what to do; whatever that reason, it worked.
I still have coping skills for my stuttering in my adult life. It doesn’t happen too much anymore, but my wife jokingly calls it going into my “stage voice”. Yup, that would be one way. Another way I have learned to deal with this is by singing. Singing has set beat pattern and rhythm that keeps you from “ going too fast”.
King George puts it this way in the film:
Lionel Logue: What was your earliest memory?
King George VI: I'm not... -here to discuss... -personal matters.
Lionel Logue: Why are you here then?
King George VI: Because I bloody well stammer!
Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-... That's all, folks
Keith
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
A Winter's Day....
Ok there is great quote from Father Perrault in Lost Horizon that says, “Look at the world today. Is there anything more pitiful? What madness there is! What blindness! What unintelligent leadership! A scurrying mass of bewildered humanity crashing headlong against each other, compelled by an orgy of greed and brutality. The time must come, my friend, when this orgy will spend itself, when brutality and the lust for power must perish by its own sword. For when that day comes, the world must begin to look for a new life. And it is our hope that they may find it, a way of life based on one simple rule: Be kind.”
One of my all time favorite books and movies (yes, even the dismal 70’s musical version has some merit), Lost Horizon talks about a world where we should all be kind and what the future could be for us. With the crisis over collective bargaining in WI that seems directed at certain groups not for the good of all, the shooting in Tucson not long ago, the turmoil in Egypt, Bahrain, and now Libya, a dissertation about the New World Order is in order. But, not today. Today I am going to talk about how a camera can give you an interesting perspective on life via the viewfinder.
President’s Day 2011 was a snow filled day. While the world swirled all over with conflict and turmoil from Wisconsin to the Middle East to North Minneapolis, the snow swirled here as well. Dropping nearly 15 inches of the white stuff on the land where a spring melt took away at least that much. Snow depth at our house can be measured by how much of St. Francis’ statue is exposed. While the day took me to the Minute Clinic (an amazing idea and one worth its own blog) and Target, I took some time in the late afternoon before making supper to take some pictures with my new SLR.
It’s been a great while since I took pictures for the sake of taking pictures. My older brother is a professional photographer with a great eye and much knowledge and has always said I was blessed with a good eye. On that affirmation (along with a few trips coming up), I bought a new SLR. I still have my old Canon AE1 which probably still takes great pictures. I used to love to just go and take pictures with it; yesterday, I did just that.
Driving back from taking Zach back to college after the Minute Clinic visit, I saw this great view of a street in the town where I live. The trees were landscaped so that they created a border for the street in the neighborhood. With the large snowflakes falling, it was this beautiful peaceful winter scene. I had to get my camera and come back. I did just that and took several. I went farther down the road and experimented with the focus and the depth of field getting several views of the same thing. Something we don’t take enough time to do in our real lives. I shot a stark tree as the branches crept toward the gloaming. I captured three light posts that looked like alien periscopes rising out of the snow-covered park. I went quickly home, downloaded them and sat back and just relaxed in the peacefulness of the pictures. It was sort of cool that way. I took one and played with it and messed with its light and shades, capturing an antique look in the same picture. It’s been a really long time since I enjoyed just doing this electronic art. My friends, Mara and Kevin know about pictures and capturing everything. My friend, Lisa who took a picture every day and launched them on facebook knows the way, and I, I put up the serene street scene and a picture of my dog (hey every guy has to have a dog).
Finding peaceful diversions to relax is a script for the busy world. Like Father Perrault, in my viewfinder, I can find that Shangri-La he is talking about and keep an archive of things for my future about my past. “So take the photographs, and still frames in your mind. Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time. Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial. For what it's worth it was worth all the while”
Smile! Click!
Keith
One of my all time favorite books and movies (yes, even the dismal 70’s musical version has some merit), Lost Horizon talks about a world where we should all be kind and what the future could be for us. With the crisis over collective bargaining in WI that seems directed at certain groups not for the good of all, the shooting in Tucson not long ago, the turmoil in Egypt, Bahrain, and now Libya, a dissertation about the New World Order is in order. But, not today. Today I am going to talk about how a camera can give you an interesting perspective on life via the viewfinder.
President’s Day 2011 was a snow filled day. While the world swirled all over with conflict and turmoil from Wisconsin to the Middle East to North Minneapolis, the snow swirled here as well. Dropping nearly 15 inches of the white stuff on the land where a spring melt took away at least that much. Snow depth at our house can be measured by how much of St. Francis’ statue is exposed. While the day took me to the Minute Clinic (an amazing idea and one worth its own blog) and Target, I took some time in the late afternoon before making supper to take some pictures with my new SLR.
It’s been a great while since I took pictures for the sake of taking pictures. My older brother is a professional photographer with a great eye and much knowledge and has always said I was blessed with a good eye. On that affirmation (along with a few trips coming up), I bought a new SLR. I still have my old Canon AE1 which probably still takes great pictures. I used to love to just go and take pictures with it; yesterday, I did just that.
Driving back from taking Zach back to college after the Minute Clinic visit, I saw this great view of a street in the town where I live. The trees were landscaped so that they created a border for the street in the neighborhood. With the large snowflakes falling, it was this beautiful peaceful winter scene. I had to get my camera and come back. I did just that and took several. I went farther down the road and experimented with the focus and the depth of field getting several views of the same thing. Something we don’t take enough time to do in our real lives. I shot a stark tree as the branches crept toward the gloaming. I captured three light posts that looked like alien periscopes rising out of the snow-covered park. I went quickly home, downloaded them and sat back and just relaxed in the peacefulness of the pictures. It was sort of cool that way. I took one and played with it and messed with its light and shades, capturing an antique look in the same picture. It’s been a really long time since I enjoyed just doing this electronic art. My friends, Mara and Kevin know about pictures and capturing everything. My friend, Lisa who took a picture every day and launched them on facebook knows the way, and I, I put up the serene street scene and a picture of my dog (hey every guy has to have a dog).
Finding peaceful diversions to relax is a script for the busy world. Like Father Perrault, in my viewfinder, I can find that Shangri-La he is talking about and keep an archive of things for my future about my past. “So take the photographs, and still frames in your mind. Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time. Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial. For what it's worth it was worth all the while”
Smile! Click!
Keith
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
The Times of My Life
I’ve had the time of my life.
After listening to the new Black Eyed Peas song The Time, it made me reminisce about the original song and the memories flooded back of the summer I moved to the cities and “ Nobody puts Baby into a corner”. It made me reflect on how important music continues to be in my life and how there are milestones in our lives that we can “ stamp” with a song. The first chords of All About Soul by Billy Joel draw a gigantic smile to my face not just for memory but because it’s one of my all time favorite songs.
A while back I posted on Facebook asking people to list their favorite Christmas songs. The radio stations had just gone 24/7 in October with Christmas music, and I thought if I have to hear Feliz Navidad one more time, I would have to commit Hari Kari. Putting the positive spin on the issue, I asked people to list the Christmas music that they could hear over and over again. My number one choice was The First Noel. It has always been and continues to be my favorite of Christmas songs. As a child I was fascinated with the Shepherd part of the Nativity. All these smelly, dirty sheep farmers were in the inner circle. It certainly makes more sense to me today.
The joy of listening to the oldies station is that it becomes your passport to the timeline of your life. I once remember a radio station whose logo was “ the Music of Your Life” and it was. How did they know I secretly jammed to Crocodile Rock when I was 7th grade, or that Jive Talking drove me to college. Carrying my Rufus albums and Marvin Gaye records to high school parties where no one had heard Mercy, Mercy Me or Sweet Thing let alone even know what R and B was
My life was lived according to American Top 40. I was there when Michael and the brothers hit the chart, when Mary McGregor recorded music as a folk singer on Motown, the premiere R and B recording studio. Klaatu and Carpenters introduced me to Aliens in Calling Occupants and of course the monumental impact of the Beatles A Day in the Life.
College brought me to the bar with Disco and my divas Donna Summer, Cher (her third of five recording careers), Gloria Gaynor and one of my all time favorite songs, I’m Doin Fine Now by NYC. U2 got me through my first years of teaching along with the Boss and REO. Jokingly, I suggested we name our first child (gender unknown) Kyrie after a Mr. Mister song popular at his birth. Lucky for him, his mother was not to be swayed by pop radio. The stories go on for at least all of the years I have lived.
Please note that not every song has the great AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH moment attached to it like Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl). I turn anything off that is by the Eagles and Nickelback. I just don’t have the time to waste on those songs. Trust me, there are others.
Thanks to the radio and recorded music, my life has been a tapestry of rich and royal hue- thank you Carol King for the great words. You and James have been there the whole time. As I slowly go to Carolina in my Mind, I can bless my 100 years of Wanna Be Startin Something . I am truly a Juke Box Hero who has had The Time of My Life.
You Spin Me Right Round.
Keith
After listening to the new Black Eyed Peas song The Time, it made me reminisce about the original song and the memories flooded back of the summer I moved to the cities and “ Nobody puts Baby into a corner”. It made me reflect on how important music continues to be in my life and how there are milestones in our lives that we can “ stamp” with a song. The first chords of All About Soul by Billy Joel draw a gigantic smile to my face not just for memory but because it’s one of my all time favorite songs.
A while back I posted on Facebook asking people to list their favorite Christmas songs. The radio stations had just gone 24/7 in October with Christmas music, and I thought if I have to hear Feliz Navidad one more time, I would have to commit Hari Kari. Putting the positive spin on the issue, I asked people to list the Christmas music that they could hear over and over again. My number one choice was The First Noel. It has always been and continues to be my favorite of Christmas songs. As a child I was fascinated with the Shepherd part of the Nativity. All these smelly, dirty sheep farmers were in the inner circle. It certainly makes more sense to me today.
The joy of listening to the oldies station is that it becomes your passport to the timeline of your life. I once remember a radio station whose logo was “ the Music of Your Life” and it was. How did they know I secretly jammed to Crocodile Rock when I was 7th grade, or that Jive Talking drove me to college. Carrying my Rufus albums and Marvin Gaye records to high school parties where no one had heard Mercy, Mercy Me or Sweet Thing let alone even know what R and B was
My life was lived according to American Top 40. I was there when Michael and the brothers hit the chart, when Mary McGregor recorded music as a folk singer on Motown, the premiere R and B recording studio. Klaatu and Carpenters introduced me to Aliens in Calling Occupants and of course the monumental impact of the Beatles A Day in the Life.
College brought me to the bar with Disco and my divas Donna Summer, Cher (her third of five recording careers), Gloria Gaynor and one of my all time favorite songs, I’m Doin Fine Now by NYC. U2 got me through my first years of teaching along with the Boss and REO. Jokingly, I suggested we name our first child (gender unknown) Kyrie after a Mr. Mister song popular at his birth. Lucky for him, his mother was not to be swayed by pop radio. The stories go on for at least all of the years I have lived.
Please note that not every song has the great AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH moment attached to it like Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl). I turn anything off that is by the Eagles and Nickelback. I just don’t have the time to waste on those songs. Trust me, there are others.
Thanks to the radio and recorded music, my life has been a tapestry of rich and royal hue- thank you Carol King for the great words. You and James have been there the whole time. As I slowly go to Carolina in my Mind, I can bless my 100 years of Wanna Be Startin Something . I am truly a Juke Box Hero who has had The Time of My Life.
You Spin Me Right Round.
Keith
Monday, February 7, 2011
A Bowl of Lucky Charms
Some of you know this and others not yet because I felt if I let the cat out of the bag, I would somehow jinx the success of my venture. I have been losing weight since last May 17. It started as a lark with a desire to have some vegetables in my lunch. From there it sprang into a full fledged attempt. To this date, I have lost 41.7 pounds. While that is cool, more amazingly cool is the fact that I am not using insulin in the mornings, and I have diminished my evening use by half. That in itself would be great, but even more is the fact that I am following through.
While it looks like I am probably going to write about that, wrongo! I am going to write about the hope that springs forth in times of need. The reference to the bowl of Lucky Charms is this: while I deprived myself of many of my favorite things during the last eight months, I decided to give myself one of my favorite all time foods, Lucky Charms cereal. Sunday night after a long day of catching up from my speech trip to Duluth, I poured myself a heaping bowl of Lucky Charms, added just the right amount of milk to be colored by the marshmallows, and ate away. It was truly magically delicious.
While all that seems really silly, eating the bowl of cereal was really rooted in many of the things I noticed last weekend at the speech meet in Duluth, which can easily be summed up in "hope springs eternal". I moved forward with eating the beloved cereal because hope says that one foray into the world of yellow moons and green clovers was not going to halt the direction I had been traveling for so many months. That realization came after hearing so many kids who didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of breaking finals saying, " I'm gonna final today."
For those you not privy to the nomenclature of speech, beyond taking first, breaking finals is about as good as it gets. It puts you in the elite group; the group of the best. They believed that even though the odds were insurmountable, they were going to final! Next week, the same will be heard echoing through other hallways as the kids make their way to their rounds, "I'm gonna final this week." even though they didn't come close the weekend before.
Hope springs eternal. What a valuable lesson for us all. In those times that try us, hope springs eternal. When we are not sure what we're doing, hope drives us on to the right path. When we've run out of hope, hope like a phoenix rises to carry us through.
Tonight as I finish my second bowl of Lucky Charms, feeling quite good about the whole thing. I can't help but buoyed up that message.
On another note, Henry Oertelt died last week. A notable Holocaust survivor, Henry's book, An Unbroken Chain, has been a part of my curriculum for many years. Via his podcast on iTunes and his well written book describing his survival of concentration camp life, many of my students learned that one thing from Henry and his ordeal, hope springs eternal that the world will NEVER know the atrocities of the Third Reich ever again. Rest in peace Henry!
Over and out.
Keith
While all that seems really silly, eating the bowl of cereal was really rooted in many of the things I noticed last weekend at the speech meet in Duluth, which can easily be summed up in "hope springs eternal". I moved forward with eating the beloved cereal because hope says that one foray into the world of yellow moons and green clovers was not going to halt the direction I had been traveling for so many months. That realization came after hearing so many kids who didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of breaking finals saying, " I'm gonna final today."
For those you not privy to the nomenclature of speech, beyond taking first, breaking finals is about as good as it gets. It puts you in the elite group; the group of the best. They believed that even though the odds were insurmountable, they were going to final! Next week, the same will be heard echoing through other hallways as the kids make their way to their rounds, "I'm gonna final this week." even though they didn't come close the weekend before.
Hope springs eternal. What a valuable lesson for us all. In those times that try us, hope springs eternal. When we are not sure what we're doing, hope drives us on to the right path. When we've run out of hope, hope like a phoenix rises to carry us through.
Tonight as I finish my second bowl of Lucky Charms, feeling quite good about the whole thing. I can't help but buoyed up that message.
On another note, Henry Oertelt died last week. A notable Holocaust survivor, Henry's book, An Unbroken Chain, has been a part of my curriculum for many years. Via his podcast on iTunes and his well written book describing his survival of concentration camp life, many of my students learned that one thing from Henry and his ordeal, hope springs eternal that the world will NEVER know the atrocities of the Third Reich ever again. Rest in peace Henry!
Over and out.
Keith
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