Why, Oh, Why?

O.K., so I probably should steer away from this whole death theme, but Junior Seau's death has been on my mind a ton this week.  Here was a guy who was my favorite football player up until his first retirement.  I've always been a fan of linebackers, it was my favorite position to play and coach, and my favorite player right now is Ray Lewis.

So here is this Samoan guy who is considered amongst the toughest of the tough guys.  Someone who has been widely admired and beloved by millions of Americans, and yet not tough enough to beat depression.  Depression is a nasty and mysterious beast.  So many of us do battle with it at different levels.

That's right, I said us.  I've been butting heads with depression since before I knew what it was.  Like many men, I don't like to admit it sometimes has a grip on me, and definitely don't like to admit I can't handle it on my own.  For me, it rarely takes the form of real sadness, but rather an over-whelming feeling of just not giving a shit.  Fortunately, I have a great family and a few wonderful, close friends.  My job also helps enormously, it's hard to stay apathetic when your surrounded by the high-octane energy of middle-school kids all day.

My heart goes out not only to Junior, but especially to his family.  They now have to tackle the grief, and the endless questions of whys and what-ifs.  I'm praying for the Seaus and all of the other families who are left with the untimely death of a loved one.

Two Forward and Three Back

R.I.P. Steve



Well.....

What a long strange trip, indeed. That last entry sounded so full of promise. The previously mentioned blonde is still a friend. The whole passion aspect of our friendship quickly left, which in hindsight, was definitely a good thing.

Not too long after that I met another blonde and together we reached heights of passion I had not known before let alone known I was capable of at my age. Turns out, it was an intense, but short-lived fire. You can't make someone happy if they don't want to be happy. You can't completely trust your heart to someone you can't trust (deja-vu, right?).

Shortly after the predictably nasty break-up, one of my best friends passed away from a quick-hitting cruel disease.

I've pretty much been lost since.

Now, life in many ways has been great at times, but here I am on my ass again, the return of El Gordo. So I had the urge to write here again in hopes that the tide back to fitness and all-around scrappiness will rise again.

Wish me luck.

Still Crazy...

Here I am, 23 years into this profession, 29 years working with kids. The little darlins can still surprise me and I can still get choked up. This morning my plan was head on out right after school for a weekend in the mountains. I'm heading out in a few minutes.

Yesterday I played this kinda corny video for the kids. They really liked it. Today, my afternoon gang asked if I'd play the video again. They started singing and dancing around. It was spontaneous and sincere, not obnoxious, like you often get from middle-schoolers. It's moments like that which remind me why I got into this profession and why I'm still at it.

During the last couple of weeks I've debated whether or not to even to continue this blog. The blog's title doesn't really apply anymore. Thanks to a good talking-to from my doctor late this spring, and thanks to a few weeks this summer with a certain blonde someone who brought passion back to my life, I have lost 35 pounds, am in the process of losing many more, and have ten times more energy than I've had in over five years. It's been like waking up from a long, hazy dream. I'm no longer so interested in parking my ass in front of the computer, and after this summer, I don't think anyone besides me will read this here blog, anyway.

For some reason after our sing-along today, I felt compelled to get this down as soon as I walked through the door. This might be the last hoorah of Days of Sloth and Gluttony, if so, it's not a bad way to go out. If anyone reads this, I hope you like the video.

Happy Trails,
Ken

Symphony of Science - The Poetry of Reality (An Anthem for Science)

It's $#&@ing Fall!

Fall has arrived! School has started and the first king salmon of the season are now in the freezer.

"Best of all, he loved the fall..." Those timeless words were written by Ernest Hemingway in a eulogy to a friend who had died in a bird hunting accident. It was 1939 when Hemingway read the eulogy in the cemetery in Ketchum, Idaho. Those words have been etched in my mind and heart since I first read them when I was living in Ketchum, more than fifty years later.

Winter has the snow and winter steelhead. Spring is the return of the sun, trout fishing, and track season. Summer is two months of freedom. But fall is life at its peak. The bugs are gone, the nights are cool, the fishing is the best, and hunting season is in full force. To me, fall is the true beginning of the year, from a professional view as well as a natural one. It is the time of year when I don't want to waste a single day, minute, second.

This weekend was full of grouse hunting, deer scouting, and trout fishing over in the Methow Valley. So here's to barbecued king salmon, fresh corn on the cob, fresh peaches, grouse pesto pasta, elk steaks, and cold beer. Don't waste a second of it.