From a Friday Night in Bullhead...

My students tell me I should title my autobiography (a primary source) "How is this my life? A Field Guide to Teaching Middle School on Purpose"

They tell me Chapter One should be "What did I do to deserve this?" and Chapter Two should be "What do you want?"

I am totally ok with this. The students who tell me this have scores of 95%+ in my class.

So I come home in two weeks for Christmas.

I got back to Bullhead from thanksgiving two weeks ago, roughly. Thanksgiving was great. I love being able to be home and to make a general nuisance of myself in the kitchen. I even cleaned the bathroom. Yeah, being home was nice.

There are a lot of things that really make this place incredible. Red sunrises through my classroom window, making me wonder about Northeastern Maritime Tradition and Superstition. These absolutely stunning sunrises reflected in fleeting clouds before the sun crests the top of the Arizona mountains. It’s pretty great. Being at work so early has the benefit of allowing some time to reflect on my lesson plans, their effectiveness and the strategies I can employ to make my class more fun, more effective, and more relevant to my students. Sunsets, mostly orange and pink, that silhouette the Nevada mountains and highlight them like a slash across one of my students’ papers. Good friends. Great coworkers.

In a lot of ways, I am truly blessed here.

But it’s difficult, too. Being away is still a daily struggle for me. Knowing some of the people I care most about are struggling with things while I’m 2500 miles away is difficult. Not that I think I can solve these problems, but it would be nice to be able to share them, toss back a beer or two and talk and just be around.

Feel more effective.

Feel more relevant to the lives of the people I care most about.

Eric was able to swing by my little apartment in mid-November…that was nice. It’s always good to see him, good to catch up, good to let him know I plan to play squatter in his home for some of the short summer. Looking forward to tossing back a few at Christmas time, by the way.

Colleen will be coming out here with me when I return home after the holiday. I feel both excited and very nervous. I want to see her happy…and though this is a TBD (the party goes till ??) amount of time, I am pulling for her to find the employment she so deeply desires. Weird position to be in…to want to spend more time with her, but also be pulling for her to land a job in Nowhere, Arkansas (or any other reasonably named backwoods place in the middle of nowhere).

Such is my life, and I kind of love it that way.

Incidentally, I recently bought a fake Christmas Tree. While I am not proud of this, I didn’t want to throw away a real tree before Christmas (as I’ll be coming home) and didn’t want to come home to five million needles on the floor…(cue jokes about Needles, California, which is not far from me).  I had sent my mom and my sister a picture of my sad little undecorated tree, and independently of one another they sent me ornaments.

Blew me away, a little bit. I love stories, and I have more than a few ornaments, now, that will always have a story attached to them, and a little bit of love.

Appreciated. Much, much appreciated.

We roasted pumpkins. Because it's fall.

It was good to be home.

Just arrived back in Arizona after a two week return to New Jersey. 

Some highlights (in no particular order):

1. My family and friends

2. The day I subbed. Haha.

3. Bagels

4. Porkroll

5. Pizza

6. Charcoal grill

7. Yeungling

8. I do, in fact, like stout

9. Picking up hours at the store

10. Moe’s Burritos at Mccarren Airport

11. Watching the Gangnam Style video with Colleen

12. Sitting with Colleen while she graded

13. Brewing pumpkin beer

14. Colleen’s pumpkin lasagna

15. Football with Jayden

16. Golf with Dad, Smithbauer and Morgen

17. Falling asleep in Colleen’s office…under her desk

18. Sitting in on her classes. I learned things!

19. Trees with fall foliage

20. Football at Abby’s

21. Delicious Orchards with Colleen and Jay

22. Delicious Orchards Apple Cider. Wow

23. Driving the Jeep.

24. Finding marathons of bad television shows with Colleen

25. Harold’s

26. A cheesesteak in the airport

27.   Jayden's picture of a fall tree

28.   Pumpkin Ice Cream

Friday was rough. Headed out to the airport early to hang with Katy for a bit, and about 1/3 of the way there realized I’d left my keys at home. So there was an added hour.  Colleen dropped me with Katy and headed off, and Katy and I hung out with her roommates for a bit before heading to the airport. My flight had already been delayed an hour. It took almost an hour to get to the airport because of traffic, but I was able to sit in Chickie & Pete’s for a bit and have a cheesesteak and a Yeungling. Or two. Then we boarded, and sat on the tarmac for an hour, then decided we didn’t have enough fuel, and sat for another hour. I got to my car a little after 2 am yesterday morning, slept a few hours, and got back into life as I know it. It was  a long, long day. I hate flying. I’m basically anxious the entire time, and I really don’t like not having control of the situation. And sitting. And sitting and sitting and sitting hoping to take off. 

4 weeks until I’m home again.

"It ain't rare to hear the streetlights"

“Call themselves stars”

That about covers Vegas. Wow. But we’ll get there.

Left Flagstaff in the morning and headed to Hoover Dam…and found a Dunkin Donuts in Kingman! I was thrilled.

“Mmm, perfectly circular eggs…”

Thanks, Colleen.

But it wasn’t terrible, although the NJ bagels are better, even at Dunkin. Sigh.

On to the Hoover Dam. I’m not a big man-made structures guy…I prefer woods and mountains and things like that over eleventy billion tons of concrete, but it was alright. Wasn’t crazy about the charging for everything part of the Dam experience, but it was ok. Lake Mead is cool.

From the Dam, we headed on to Las Vegas, hitting a Del Taco on the way. It’s like Taco Bell but less gross…not that that’s a challenge. We made it to our hotel, Circus Circus, around two in the afternoon and checked in. It was a far cry from America’s Best Value Inn in Flagstaff…which was a dive. This place was really, really nice. We took a cab down the Strip and wandered around the Flamingo, the Mirage, the Bellagio. It was total sensory overload. Noise, lights, smells…we hit a Mexican place inside the Flamingo, and the food was good. The waitress was pushy (of course) and tried to give me food I didn’t order and then charge me for it, but that didn’t end well for her. After dinner we wandered around and eventually found a brew pub, where I tried my second stout in as many days…and enjoyed my second stout in as many days. I’m becoming concerned about my tastes. After that, we watched a couple of the fountain shows at the Bellagio and then headed back to Circus Circus, totally exhausted.

I cannot accurately describe Las Vegas, like I cannot take pictures of the Grand Canyon that will do it justice. Suffice to say that for a guy whose ideal night is a pine forest and a campfire, the constant sensory bombardment of Las Vegas is overwhelming.

I took Colleen to the airport at 5 this morning and made it to work by seven. 5 weeks until I’m home.

"Charismatic Geo-what?"

So there’s this hole in the ground…

Colleen and I went to the Grand Canyon today. We left Bullhead about 2 AM and headed north east to the Grand Canyon, which put us there about 5:15. Driving through the park, in the dark, on a road with no street lights was wild. I turned off my headlights (briefly) and was astounded at how dark it got, as the sky was covered with a layer of clouds I’ll reference in a few. But as we were discussing the dark, and the difference between the Canyon (at 7000ish feet) and Bullhead (at 500), I realized what the real difference was.

“Colleen…TREES!”

We were both shocked. It’s funny how fast you get used to scrub brush and rocks and not trees and shrubs. We kept on the lookout for elk, but were disappointed as we were much too early to really see anything beyond my headlights. We parked at the main lot, just off of Mather Point, which Colleen mentioned to me is a great first view of the Canyon.

Boy…was she right. Even before the sun came up, Mather Point and the Rim Trail on the South Rim were breathtaking. We positioned ourselves with about fifty to seventy other people to watch the sun come up through the clouds and illuminate the Canyon, and then all of us snapped away wildly for a few moments before the sun disappeared behind the clouds again. I’ve seen some great sunrises…LBI at the lighthouse, the various prairie sunrises on my way across the nation, Talbot Island State Park in Florida, the Atlantic Ocean from Smithbauer’s boat…but this one was hard to beat. After the sun came up, we headed back to the car, had some breakfast and prepared to hike down the Rim Trail for a bit.

**Before the sun came up, after we had been at the Canyon edge for roughly five minutes, Colleen uttered my favorite line of the day. My eyes were glued to the giant hole in the ground, trying to take it in and understand the scale…and I catch Colleen out of the corner of my eye staring the opposite direction at a scrubby little juniper. “I love this tree,” she exclaims. I find her difficult not to like**

Our hike along the Rim Trail was certainly two things…breathtaking and wet. It rained. A cold, cold rain that was often sideways, so I hid my camera under my Rowan cap and soldiered on through it. We stopped to identify a few trees along the way, and check out some little tuft eared squirrels that were running about, and made it Pipe Creek Vista just in time to realize that the Canyon was full of fog and the rain wasn’t going to stop. Thankfully, a shuttle (free inside the park) pulled up just after we snapped a picture and we were able to ride back the mile rather than hike. This led us to a little café shoppe, some coffee and tea, and a veggie breakfast burrito that really wasn’t bad at all.

After breakfast and a foray into the visitor’s center and bookstore (where I bought a new map for my wall…) we headed the opposite direction down the Rim Trail. More stunning vistas followed, and we made friends with a few people from around the world who were amused by the fact that I was taking several photos of Colleen’s boots on the edge of the Canyon (including tying them together and hanging them from a scrubby little pine that was clinging to life) for her. Our ultimate goal was the trailhead of the Bright Angel Trail…because that’s the place to go to look for the California Condor, a critically endangered scavenger in the vulture family. And while we did not get to see one up close, we did see one soaring over the Canyon…and had to debate for a few moments whether it was a Condor halfway across or an airplane all the way across. Then it flapped and came close enough for us to be sure. Very, very cool.

We hiked the Bright Angel Trail just a little…by that point we’d hiked almost five miles and were more or less exhausted. So we headed up to the shuttle stop and prepared to head back to the visitor’s center and drive on to Flagstaff. Except, along the way, the driver spotted a bull elk.

I will repeat that. The driver spotted A BULL ELK.

We hopped off the shuttle and rushed over to see him. Un. Real. Huge. So huge. Huge rack. He fed along one side of the road, decided he was done, wandered across the road, fed there, and then knocked some branches down with his antlers. As he fed he worked his way away from the road, and we wandered off to leave him in peace as well.

After that it was on to Flagstaff, a great brew pub, and a questionable motel room. Tomorrow, we strike out for Hoover Dam and Las Vegas, and I prepare myself to drop Colleen at the airport Tuesday morning and make it down to MVJH in time for work.

Arizona gets a little more (forced) sunshine

So Colleen has been here for over a week. I take her to the airport Tuesday...and I’m really not looking forward to it. But that’s another matter, and another post.

Tonight I’d like to focus on the drive up to Las Vegas to pick her up. I watched her flight information rather closely, and shot up to the airport to be there just before she arrived…which turned out to be a half hour early. This fact did not make me sad.

So at 10:15 on August 24, I was sitting at baggage carousel fifteen at McCarren airport in Las Vegas when she disembarked. It was very, very nice to see her face…and it has been very, very nice to have her here.

The drive itself was ridiculous. Just over an hour and a half from Bullhead, the drive starts with a quick up and down through some mountains (which were a little surreal at night) and then a long, fairly straight drive up to the airport through open empty desert. The spread of stars was absolutely incredible, and I almost stopped more than once just to look at them. But I pushed on.

The first thing that struck me about the drive was the little town about halfway to Las Vegas. It appears suddenly, out of nowhere, slows the speed limit, charges too much for gas, offers casinos, and then disappears again as rapidly as it appeared.

Then the glow that is Las Vegas appears on the horizon…hidden behind mountains, there is still no doubt what you’re seeing. The desert is so dark, and so totally bleak at night, that the glow on the horizon (which couldn’t even be distinguished in New Jersey, I’m certain) draws you in.

It does not, however, prepare you for the first vista of the city itself. You pass a casino, then back into desert, then come around a hill and BAM…the city of Las Vegas and the lights are laid out before and below you. It’s like looking at the sky upside down. I actually exclaimed something to the effect of “Woahhhawwooowwww,” and then looked around the empty car to make sure nobody had heard me. It was wild. A sight that I’ll never forget.

And certainly a good reason to be going up there, as well. 

Let's write the rules five times each...

Well. I’m about two weeks into teaching, and it’s been a bit of a culture shock. After working with middle school students for several years, I thought I knew what to expect…

The differences in expectations between the East Coast and here are kind of amazing. I came from a building that expected me to give homework, and a lot of it, every night. Here, thirty minutes of reading is all that’s expected…and I find myself doing loads of extra prepping with all the free time this has given me. I still arrive about an hour before I’m supposed to, but instead of grading homework and writing assignments, I’m prepping PowerPoints and getting ready to facilitate group work on a scale that’s a little new to me.

The kids, too, are reeling a little bit from my style and my expectations of how hard they’ll work. They’re in a new school, and adjusting to things like lockers and switching classes is an exciting thing, sure. But they are still learning that the elementary school nonsense isn’t going to fly in middle school…especially with someone who cut his teeth as a substitute teacher on the East Coast. They’re working harder daily than I think they expected, and I can already tell the students who are applying themselves, embracing the material, and extending their knowledge…and the ones who are fighting it and thinking that teachers are like the T-Rex…if they sit still I can’t see them.

They have another thing coming. Case-in-point: They had to practice walking down the hallway four times today because they couldn’t a)stop touching lockers b) walk in a straight line c) stop touching lockers.

“I guess the fourth time’s the charm, isn’t it,” I asked them.

Nobody answered. Good thing. : )

So we are all learning about each other, and what to expect from each other, and testing each other to see just how well (or poorly) this year could go.

I’m confident it’ll be great.                 

Leap of Faith

Well.

Sorry its been so long, but I just got internet this morning in my apartment. I now live in Bullhead City, Arizona! Today it was 118, and the low was 106.

Here is how warped my world has become. I woke up at about 6:30 last Sunday morning and headed out around seven, seven thirty to acquire some things. When I walked down to my car, the thought “wow…I love these cool clear mornings, it’s nice out here” popped into my head.

When I drove by the bank, it was 90 degrees.

Welcome to the desert, I guess.

And desert it is! Spectacular views of mountains and plateaus frame my drive to work every morning, as do frequent sightings of roadrunners (!!) and quail. The low brush and rocks are stark, but very beautiful, and the sky is ridiculously clear. Now, if only it would drop below 90 degrees at night…

Sometimes I feel totally insane for taking this leap, motel hopping across the country, and trying to both get set up with a place to live and competently perform in my job teaching 7^th graders at the same time. The rest of the time I feel like this is the best idea I’ve ever had, and deeply appreciate Colleen for both encouraging this and supporting me through the ups and downs of this journey.

And it isn’t just her support that’s gotten me through. So many people have supported me, and reached out to me to offer assistance, both at home and since I’ve arrived, and I’m totally humbled by it. I teach in a place that nobody is from…the question around the building between teachers is “how far did you drive to get here?” It’s kind of like college all over again.

I plan to find some time to take some decent pictures that aren’t on my phone, so they should follow soon.

One final day of hauling across America

Day 3

I don’t want to call this the end…maybe the beginning. I shot out of Amarillo, Texas before the sun came up today, and was into New Mexico before it decided to make its appearance. The American Southwest is spectacular, and I’m excited to be living here. At least through June…

Observations from the road:

1.       Awesome spread of stars this morning, Texas!

2.       The sunrise in New Mexico was amazing. The sky stayed cream sicle orange around the sun for far longer than it had any right to. And the light on the red ground…great.

3.       New Mexico itself was spectacular. Buttes, canyons, washes, ravines, plateaus, mesas…startling to look at for a New Jersey boy.

4.       It’s clear why they call it Red Rock Park.

5.       Mystery road kill! Can’t figure out what might kind of look like a deer but be black.

6.       Elk signs everywhere…no elk…I’m afraid we may be looking at another moose situation.

7.       Five or six small deer…or antelope…or whatever they are here. Smaller than our white tailed deer though.

8.       After the fourth hour of it, I got tired of driving through mountains. I think my car did, too.

9.       The Rio Grande!

10.   The Continental Divide!

11.   A twelve mile, 6% downgrade that brought me down several thousand feet just before I reached Bullhead City…a place I’m aiming to set up shop.

12.   Needles, California, where I’m spending at least one night.

13.   Authentic Mexican food outside of Flagstaff.

Song of the day: How Far We’ve Come (Dawes)

Meal of the day: Since I only had one, I’ll go with the tacos…shredded beef wrapped in a fried tortilla. Delicious.

Tomorrow: Off to the school in which I will teach to meet my new boss, see my classroom, be productive. Off to hopefully see some apartments.

Tonight: Learning how to iron! Should be fun.

Day 2...belatedly

Day  2 began before dawn in Indiana. I woke up early, hoping to push past Tulsa and make some killer time, making the last two days of my trip easier.

It worked.  I stopped for ice, for my creative coolering, and at Waffle House for lunch before leaving Missouri. I have had a short but passionate affair with Waffle Houses. Colleen made noise about how great they were back in March before Sean and I visited Eric for the first time, and the Eric, Sean and I hit one in Mechanicsville before we headed back to New Jersey. I was hooked, forever and ever, and Colleen and I have made it our business to find them in our travels, as have I each time I’ve been to Virginia.

 I hit Tulsa around 1 pm, after the time change at St. Louis, and there was no way I was stopping then. I set my sights on Amarillo, Texas. Google told me it would take 5 hours. It took 3 hours and 45 minutes. No I didn’t speed THAT much. But I did manage over 900 miles today after managing over 800 yesterday.

One note on Day 1: I-70 in West Virginia is a lot like I-95 in Delaware. I liked it for that.

Things I saw today:

1.       A Midwest sunrise. Beautiful. It was neat to see the sky ringed all the way around with pink and orange and purple as the orange and pink in my rearview mirror intensified and the sun exploded over the plains. Well done, Midwest.

2.       The Muddy Mississippi

3.       The Gateway Arch and Busch Stadium.

4.       St. Louis kind of smells like ribs. Just saying.

5.       Watching the topography change in Missouri from plains to the Ozarks and back to plains as I entered Oklahoma.

6.       The plains of Oklahoma

7.       Road kill armadillos everywhere! And those things splatter!

8.       The vistas of the gullies and ravines and washes in the Texas Panhandle. Stunning

9.       A town with 2 water towers, one that said HOT and one that said COLD

10.   A flatbed with a new McDonald’s sign on it.

11.   More tow trucks towing tow trucks.

12.   A burned out husk of a car.

13.   Signs for the steakhouse I hit in Amarillo starting in Oklahoma.

Song of the day: Sweet Annie (The Zac Brown Band)

Meal of the Day: Toss up.  I had a killer prime rib with fried okra (for you, Colleen) and a baked potato at a steakhouse in Amarillo. Best part of the steakhouse? Also a brewery, so I tried their Rattlesnake IPA (really, really good. On par with the Ickys) and also a pale ale with my steak. Hard to beat. However, this morning I took a biscuit from the continental breakfast at the Days Inn I slept in last night. It was hard as a rock, so I Ben’s Ladder Listed* it in Indiana before the sun came up.

Tomorrow: Original plan was Albuquerque, New Mexico. Now hoping for Flagstaff, Arizona.

*One of the redshirt summer staff on the Walpole Island Workcamp was our Tool Guy, Ben. When youth groups check in, often times they will give ladders to the Tool Guy for crews to use during the week. The week before Walpole Island, Ben had eighty-some-odd ladders to account for…and his list got sucked out the window one day while he was driving. So that’s now a verb meaning accidently (on purpose) losing things out of windows.

Writing my Future

Wow. Where to start?

I thought July was a whirlwind when I returned from the Outer Banks. Turns out it wasn’t done yet!

Early Wednesday, I interviewed for a 7^th Grade Language Arts position in Mohave Valley, Arizona. After an angst filled day, I received positive news, and some interesting news.

I got the job. The first day of school is August first.

Excitement!

Serious, major, super downside: I don’t get to see Colleen before she returns from Canada. Crushed. Glad we had those three weeks out of four on various trips.

ROADTRIP!

I left New Jersey this morning around 6 AM, driving out Route 70 (it was nice to say goodbye, temporarily, to the pitch pines), up the Turnpike and then into Pennsylvania. I took Rt. 76 (yes, I listened to the G Love and the Special Sauce song) to Rt. 70, and was on 70 the rest of the way. I’m now in Terre Haute, Indiana (about an hour southwest of Indianapolis) for the night. It was a long day, but an exciting day, and I have 3 more ahead of me.

Some observations from the road:

1.       Eating alone in restaurants is weird.

2.       Goodbye Pitch Pines and Wawas (and that surprising field of lilies hiding in a gully by the side of the road) for now.

3.       Pennsylvania is what it is. Everytime I’ve driven across it, it has been the same. Although, I do like driving THROUGH the mountains. Couldn’t decide which was scarier: a mountain tunnel collapsing on me or an underwater tunnel collapsing on me. Probably about the same.

4.       Ohio did not put its best foot forward. I went to Ohio, once, with the Scherm clan and the state itself bored me. Then I went there again in high school, with the same result. Driving through it with Colleen and Katie was ok, because I was with Colleen and Katie. But this time Ohio dropped the ball. Rain. Traffic. ALL THE TRAFFIC. “It’s just like New Jersey without the beach.” Thanks, Uncle Bill. I thought I’d managed to avoid the BENNY traffic this year. I guess it was relocated to ALL OF OHIO.

5.       Indiana…maybe it’s just the Midwest. It was so sunny I couldn’t see without my sun glasses on, and it was also pouring. Really?

6.       Things I saw, in no particular order:

a.       Huge storms

b.      A tow truck towing three other tow trucks. I saw this more than once

c.       A van driving down the interstate with its side door open. And its occupants not caring about it.

d.      Two small deer. ONE, TWO. I guess I’m beating myself at that game.

e.      Lucas Oil Stadium

f.        A lot of farms.

Song of the day: 3 way tie between 1-76 (G Love and the Special Sauce, for obvious reasons) Bonita and Bill Butler (Alison Kraus and Union Station, because I drove through Wheeling, West Virginia) and Fly Over States (Jason Aldean, because I have driven through Indiana…expect a repeat performance of that one)

Meal of the Day: Chicken and Dumplings with hashbrown casserole and mac and cheese from Cracker Barrel

Tomorrow: Tulsa, Oklahoma, and my first time zone change

July (Part 2 of 2)

Following the week in Irwin, Colleen, Katie and I surprised our high school youth by showing up as camp staff for their mission trip to the Walpole Island First Nation Reservation in Ontario, Canada. Along the way, we hit a Waffle House in Ohio, the Toledo Botanical Gardens, a new state for me (Michigan), and a ferry across the St. Clair River onto Walpole Island. Upon arrival, we checked in with the summer staff for the camp and then soon after set out to retrieve the fourth member of our Red Shirt team from PCTR, John Forsythe. Aside from the fact that a two hour drive back to the island took more like four because “just go straight” isn’t a very good direction when a road ends and you HAVE to go left or right, it was a pretty incredible experience to serve with John, who had been one of our leaders ten years prior when we were high school youth. I feel very blessed to have had the chance to serve alongside him and have gotten to know him more.

While Colleen was being utterly spectacular as Worship Leader, playing her guitar and leading the camp in music for the week, Katie and I were teamed up as site coaches, going around to different work sites and making sure things were progressing the way they should. It was, to say the least, frustrating. It felt more like a week of reprimanding adults who didn’t want to listen to advice and sound technical judgment than actually helping crews complete tasks like building porches. Some highlights: One crew whose adult insisted they had enough lumber to complete not the 6x8 porch they were assigned but a 10x10 and then didn’t finish building anything, really; The crew that framed a porch with 2x4’s and then panicked when they were told that was wrong; and, from one of John’s sites, the crew that hung 2x4’s in joist hangars meant for 2x8 and then swore that she needed longer nails to nail the decking onto the porch. It boggles the mind.

The positive upshot of the frustration? Hanging out with Katie, which was awesome, and getting to watch Colleen with the music every morning and night. Truly the best part of the week and many times all that made the week tolerable.

Coming home from Walpole found us in Niagara Falls, Canada. Not my first time at the Falls, but very cool, and very enjoyable to spend time there with Colleen and Katie, and run into our high school youth on their time at the Falls. After crossing back into the USA to head for a hotel near Rochester, NY, we got onto an interstate that led us right back to Canada. This bummed me out. Quite a bit. I do love me some America and I just didn’t want to end up back in Canada, but we spent the night in Niagara Falls, Canada and headed for Utica, New York the next morning. The next two days we spent driving around Adirondack Park looking for moose (which don’t exist) and jumping into Seventh Lake in the Finger Lakes. We ate at a place called The Moose Tooth Grill, where Katie had eaten before (which she didn’t tell us, no matter how vociferously she claims she did) in the town of Lake George, and headed home on Tuesday, July 10^th.

The fifteenth found us heading south down Rt 13, over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, across the Wright Brothers Memorial Bridge and to the Outer Banks for the family vacation. It was great to be able to spend a week with Eric, both of my nephews, and Colleen, as well as my parents and grandmother. Swimming with the little guy was great, as was the Colleen induced nerd fest on Thursday: a tour of the Army Corps of Engineers Field Research Facility, a trip to the Wright Brothers’ Memorial, lunch at Pigman’s BBQ, a short hike in Nags Head Woods, a stop at Kitty Hawk Kites for Fudge, and then, for me, a nap.

My adventure culminated with a truly fantastic dinner at Paul and Laura’s with Colleen and Morgen, and then a solid night’s sleep in my house and a nap the next day.  A change of scenery truly does help sometimes.

July (Part 1 of 2)

So this is really my first opportunity to sit down after a whirlwind of a month that saw me in 9 states, one Canadian Provence (more times than I’d initially hoped for, but more on that later), and one First Nation Reservation.  Until Saturday, I had spent exactly 5 nights of July in New Jersey, and including last night seven nights in an actual bed. Pull out couches do not count.

The last week of June found me in Irwin, Pennsylvania, a little town outside of Pittsburgh on a home repair Mission Trip with our middle school youth. To characterize that as an awesome experience would be a little overdone, since I say that every year. There were a lot of elements to this year’s trip that made it more rewarding than some in the past (last year’s stress-fest comes to mind). For one, I was lucky enough to be teamed up with nine great youth from all around the country, and two other great adults. It wasn’t long until we realized we were “that crew”…the loud ones, the ones who had a ton of fun and gelled very quickly into a cohesive unit. We finished our project, painting the exterior of a home, with a little time to spare, which made things even better. On top of that, the resident of the home was one of the most incredible people I have ever met. At 102 years young, she showed so much verve and life; she had more life in her than some of the 20-somethings I know.

 Upon meeting her, she’s been blind since the mid-nineteen eighties, she asked us all to shake her hand, and then corrected those who did not give her a good handshake. I was relieved to have passed the test (credit to my Dad). Someone then asked her what the secret to living to reach 100 years of age was, and her response was so simple it’s forever locked in my memory. She told us, “Smile when you wake up, smile again when you go to bed, and if you can’t laugh you might as well push up the daisies.” She truly embodied that mantra, as she was often laughing and sarcastic and really just a joy to be around for our short time with her.

Most incredible thing about her? Her best friend is also 102 years old. Seriously.

California/Nevada: An Addendum

Writing the first few posts that centered around an interview in Reno, Nevada was bizarre for me.  It was strange being so open about things, it was strange trying to describe the immensity of the redwoods, the angst before the interview, how much I hate taking off and landing. Strange putting pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard, as the case may be) and seeing “I” over and over again when describing the events of the journey.

I was lucky enough to share that experience with Colleen,  who has been a very, very good friend of mine for a very, very long time, and I kind of generally think that she’s the greatest. I’m a lucky guy to have her in my life.

Also, her reaction to the redwoods was epic. : )

By May 10/ Richmond had fell...

Shot out of Toms River about 11:00 yesterday with Brian and Morgen, heading south to Mechanicsville, VA. After having planned to leave at about 04:00, and then that falling through, it was nice to get a full night's sleep before leaving for somewhere. I have a propensity to leave for places at what I like to call 0'Dark:30. Or what others call Stupid O'Clock. The trip was straightforward and easy until we hit traffic just north of Fredricksburg, where we got off of 95, skirted around through Nowhere, VA, and then got onto Route 1, which parallels 95. This gained us exactly no time, as when I got back on 95, I ended up behind the same car I was behind when I exited. Seriously. That happens. But the rest of the trip was easy and we wound up pulling in about five minutes before Eric did, which was kind of incredible timing, seeing as he was coming from Tennessee and we were not. The first thing we did was eat the berry pie that was so graciously sent along with us, and then go to the Barbecue Hole for dinner. It's good to be here.

From San Francisco...

In a word? Epic.

The past three days have been a whirlwind of experience I didn’t expect to have at this juncture of my life. Especially considering that before Monday, the farthest west I’d been was Ohio in 2003.

Aside from the first minute and a half and the last minute and a half of the flight from Philadelphia, which terrify me, traveling west was a nonfactor in the tale of the journey. Once the plane hit the tarmac inSan Francisco, very smoothly I might add, it became very clear to me just what type of ridiculous this trip was going to be.

Knowing that I wanted to be in Reno, NevAda (short A,please) by ten pm local time at the latest, I set off to do the touristy San Francisco things. I parked in a public lot and wandered around Fisherman’s Wharf for about an hour that included a trip back to the car to retrieve the camera that I’d foolishly left behind. Touristy would be the best word to describe the Wharf, full of brightly colored shops (one of which was loaded with Rainier Cherries which were delicious) and overpriced restaurants…but the sea lions were cool, as was the view of Alcatraz. And the college/pro shop that was there was clutch, because it was in the mid-fifties and lightly hydrodizing and I’d left my raincoat in New Jersey. So I acquired a gray 49ers long sleeved shirt to wear under my T shirt and carried on. Oh, and coffee. That’s going to be a theme.

My next stop was Lombard Street, with its well-manicured gardens and ridiculous curves and five miles per hour speed limit. After parking at the top, taking pictures, walking down to the bottom, taking pictures, and walking back up, I drove down in the Little Kia Rio I rented. Next, I headed across the Golden Gate Bridge and parked on the north side at a little vista that overlooked the bridge, the bay and the city and then drove to the Golden Gate National Recreation Area. To get there, you have to drive through a one lane tunnel with a five minute long red light at each end, and then up a curvy mountain road. After driving in and out of a cloud I came upon great vantage points from which to see the bay, the bridge, the city and off in the distance the Pacific Ocean. On a clear day, the view would be breathtaking;on a rainy day, the view was still spectacular. In fact, while I was there, the mist lifted off the bridge for about a minute and a half of frantic picture taking, and then resettled and obscured most of the view.

To Reno...

From Golden Gate National Recreation Area, I drove north about fifteen minutes, up and down several winding roads, and into John MuirWoods. Why visit the west coast and not see the famed redwood trees? It was mind blowing. Coming from New Jersey, the Pine Barrens especially, I’m stuck with the notion that pines are scraggly, unattractive, gnarly things that only reach forty feet in height. Don’t get me wrong, I love the Pine Barrens and I love our Pitch Pines, but it is totally mind boggling to see a tree that tall, and that straight, and that big around…it’s kind of breathtaking. And on the way there, passing mountainsides covered in Lodge Pole Pine…even their little pine trees are huge. And straight. 

By now it was almost two o’clock in the afternoon Pacific Time and I’d been awake for fifteen hours, on the west coast for a scant five, and had lived the hours of 9-12 twice. That may not be exactly correct, but you get the idea. It was time to start heading east (strange since it was away from the ocean) to Reno, Nevada.

Before I left, my Dad told me that there was nothing in California that reminded him of the New Jersey. I agree totally with that. I headed east on I-80, across the Napa Valley (with a stop at an In-N-Out Burger that did not blow my mind) and into the Sierra Nevada mountains. I hadn’t considered that I’d have to traverse mountains when heading to Reno (mostly because I just didn’t think) and my Little Kia was up to the task. The mountains were covered in Lodge Pole Pines and, as I got higher in elevation, snow. In June. At one point just west of Donner Pass, I noticed that the temperature was 36 degrees. I had not been prepared to travel to this interview via the Oregon Trail…but I made it, nobody died of cholera, nobody had to shoot rabbits with square, 8-bit bullets, and I did not have to ford any rivers. Coming out of the snow covered peaks of the Sierra Nevada Mountains into the high desert, sage brush having, Nevada side was another shock. The ecosystems, and their abrupt change, were something I won’t forget. By the time I had eaten dinner, showered, and crawled into bed it was a 23 hour long day…and it was still only 11 pm, and I was able to get a full eight hours of sleep and still be up early.

And Back to San Francisco

My stay in Reno was uneventful, as it mostly consisted of me getting all worked up about the interview, going to the interview, and then coming back from the interview feeling really good about how it went. And I should have. I passed the first round of interviews and have been placed into a pool of eligible candidates for any K-6 job that comes open in Washoe County, Nevada. I’m hopeful.

On Wednesday, it was time to leave with the sunrise. I needed to be back in San Francisco for a 1:45 pm flight, and wanted to pass Lake Tahoe on the way. A quick 3,000 foot gain in elevation outside Reno put me at 8000 feet…much higher than the meager 7227 of Donner Summit two days earlier. The town of Tahoe was rather touristy, but to see the lake ringed by such high mountains was neat. I don’t want to say that I was desensitized to the beauty of it by the time I got there, but by that point Tahoe needed to blow my mind to be truly noteworthy on this extravaganza. It didn’t, but that might be because of some vistas of Lake Dunmore in Vermont. Other than Tahoe, there wasn’t much to see on the drive back across I-80, except where 80 ended, which was kind of cool because I can say I’ve been to both ends of that particular interstate highway. 

The final notable thing about this trip, including the drive home from Philadelphia International, was Thomas. I have no idea what this man’s real name was, but he struck me as the kind of guy who would not go by a shortened version of his name. If he was Thomas, he was never Tom. If he was Robert he was never Bob nor Rob. So I decided to call him Thomas, and Thomas talked literally from the time we got on the plane (and had probably been talking before that, but I can’t verify that) until the time we landed. I was afraid the oxygen masks would fall just because of all the air he was using. The only times he stopped were so the Dutch sounding woman he was talking to, who he was not with, could get a few words in edgewise, but I only noticed that happening maybe once an hour. At first I was aggravated, but then decided I wanted to shake his hand. For even I could not talk for five hours straight without breaking.