Confessions of a Conversational and Political Idiot

Awhile back, I decided it would be a good idea to become more involved in some local environmental issues beyond just sending in the annual check to some of my favorite causes.  I've been kind of easing into it by doing some field work with the kids at school and putting in some time with some local folks who are already involved with trying to turn around our declining runs of local salmon and steelhead.

My lack of political knowledge has become hugely apparent, at least to me, and probably a few of the people I've been hanging around with.  I sat in on a meeting today of the American Alps Legacy Project.  This is an organization whose goal is to expand the North Cascades National Park into some areas that should have already been included in the park when it was formed in 1968.  A worthwhile endeavor, for sure.

One of the people I had a chance to meet was Polly, a woman in her nineties who has been involved in environmental advocacy for over fifty years.  She and her late husband John were instrumental in forming the very first Sierra Club chapter in Washington.  Polly told me a story of how she and her first husband met in Alaska during WWII.  So how often do you get a chance to have a conversation with someone with this kind of life history and is completely clear-thinking at that age?  I was at a loss for words or questions.  Same yesterday, when I was sitting down with Rawhide, the father of a close friend of mine.  Rawhide (yes, that's his legal name) was one of the first smoke-jumpers in the world.  He was also a seasonal ranger in Yosemite and the Tetons during the fifties, sixties, and seventies.  And yet there I was again at a loss for words and questions.

I just absolutely suck at conversation, and not just small talk.  And later I always think of a ton of things I would have liked to have said or asked.

When To Be Stubborn and When Not To Be

I am stubborn.  Anyone who has ever spent time with me will quickly agree.  I'm not as stubborn as I used to be, however.

Sometimes stubborn is a good thing, especially when you stand up for something you feel strongly about.  Recently, in a state-test induced terror or stupor, I'm not sure which, a few of my colleagues came up with the bright idea of making their students do two hours of math each day, instead of one, and just not do science.  I would rather have had a root canal than be one of their students, at least a with a root canal, it's over in one day.  They said it was the only way they could "cover" all of the material before the test of doom.  Then, they reasoned, they would teach just science after the test, to make up for lost time.

Brilliant!  This way, their kids can get bored to comatose levels before the test, and then after the test they can go four months with out doing any math.  Mr. Stubborn took a pass on that one.  I couldn't do that to my students, not even the ones that are often a pain in the neck.

Sometimes it's not good to be stubborn, like when my doctor decided we should increase the dosage of my thyroid medication.  I am still kind of pissed off  at my former doctor in Idaho for not telling me that when he put me on the medication it would be for life, and that I couldn't go off the stuff because my thyroid wouldn't function without it anymore.  Aahh...what's up with that, Doc?

So my new doc informed my that stubbornness was not always a good substitute for knowledge, and that the increased dosage might actually increase my energy level, which has been awfully low the past year-and-a-half.  At that point, a thought was slowly making its way into my battering ram of a skull - one of us has completed med school and one of us just has a random masters degree, and that the one who has the medical degree just might know more about medicine.  So I started on the new dosage, and you know what?  Doc was right. Imagine that.

What the Hell is Going on Here?

I had one of the girls in my class pass ME a note the other day.  She said, "You gotta look up this song, especially the lyrics."  The song is called "Young" by a band called the Hollywood Undead.  I watched their video first, and was really unimpressed.  Just a bunch of tatted up white guys with masks yelling into a microphone - how original.  But when I read the lyrics I was absolutely blown away.

So this is how this generation sees my generation?  I can't blame them.  Right now, in education the politicians and so-called educational leaders really don't give a rat's ass about these kids.  They are just test-taking machines as far as our elected officials are concerned.

Look at the priorities of our politicians in this state.  "Uh, sorry we can't manage the tax money you gave us.  What the hell, we'll cut education and social services but spend millions and millions on roads and bridges so we can get to cocktail hour on time."

Only the  kid's test scores matter to these people.  And the kids know it.  And the other sad part is many of my own colleagues are buying into it! "Tests, tests, tests, standards, standards, standards!"  What about the kids, you bastards?!

What a completely different environment than the one I was fortunate to go through in the sixties and seventies.  Here's an idea - let's get back to giving a shit about the kids first.  Naaah, that won't get anyone reelected.

Anyway, here are the lyrics, without permission, though.  If the band wants to sue me they can have my house payments and car payments.



"Young" - Hollywood Undead

We are young!
But we have heart
Born in this world as it all falls apart
We are strong
We don't belong
Born in this world as it all falls apart

I see the children in the rain like the parade before the pain.
I see the love; I see the hate; I see this world that we can make!
I see the life I see the sky. Give it all to see you fly...
Yes! we wave this flag of hatred, but you're the ones who made it!!
Watch the beauty of all our lies passing right before my eyes.
I hear the hate in all your words all the wars to make us hurt
We get so sick, oh, so sick; we never wanted all this
Medication for the kids with no reason to live!

So we
March to the drums of the damned as we come
Watch it burn in the sun - we are numb!

We are young!
But we have heart
Born in this world as it all falls apart
We are strong
We don't belong
Born in this world as it all falls apart

As we walk among these shadows, in these streets, these fields of battle
Take it up, we wear the medal, raise your hands with burning candles.
Hear us whisper in the dark, in the rain you see the spark
Feel the beating of our hearts fleeting hope as we depart
All together, walk alone against all we've ever known
All we've ever really wanted was a place to call our home
But you take all we are; the innocence of our hearts.
Make us kneel before the altar as you tear us apart!

So we
March to the drums of the damned as we come
Watch it burn in the sun - we are numb!

We are young!
But we have heart
Born in this world as it all falls apart
We are strong
We don't belong
Born in this world as it all falls apart

We will fight or we will fall
'til the angels save us all

We will fight or we will fall
'til the angels save us all

We will fight or we will fall
'til the angels save us all

We will fight or we will fall
'til the angels save us all...

We are young!
But we have heart
Born in this world as it all falls apart
We are strong
We don't belong
Born in this world as it all falls apart

We are young!
But we have heart
Born in this world as it all falls apart
We are strong
We don't belong
Born in this world as it all falls apart

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.