Change of Plans



“I personally believe we developed language because of our deep inner need to complain.”  — Jane Wagner

In some respects, the need to blog fits this idea above about language.  Specifically, why wouldn’t one blog, unless they needed to get something off of their chests?  Or, for that matter, if they couldn’t find the language, where would the blog posts come from?

And sometimes, life happens so fast, that finding the time to reflect upon them becomes as scarce as the time it takes to blog those thoughts that arise from the reflection.

That’s kind of what happened.

As John Lennon expressed: Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.  

But plans have changed.  I can’t even begin to explain why, or how.

We are back.  Today I have to introduce my newest crop of 5th Graders to their Writer’s Notebooks for the year.  Part of the deal is that I have to share mine.  My “notebook” hasn’t had anything put in it since my last post in April.

It’s a good enough excuse to post something this morning then.  

Welcome back!


New Home

This is where I’m choosing to spend my time these days.

My previous lack of thought can be found here:

Repeat Offender!

The last time I attempted to type in something, I was so taken aback by the response by a former high school classmate.  I was shaken by the fact that the vitriol directed at me by this classmate was not in response to anything that my first blog posting had mentioned, but in some sort of anger directed upon me by things I had done while in high school! 

I am not the person I was then.  Thankfully.  Going away to college was the first step towards a more broadened horizon that my old high school newspaper adviser had recommended.  Still, it would take another 15 years before I finally figured out who the hell I was.  And Facebook offered that opportunity to share out the weird stuff I enjoy.  But while I will wear my political leanings on my sleeve, and initially would get on a soapbox when I found something, I wanted to post stuff up on a blog that was not necessarily political, but rather reflective.  While I follow politics with an “inside baseball”-sort of mentality, I know that rambling on without a coherent take, or by simply doing a “me-too” from other blogs I read, would be a waste of time for myself as well as anyone bored enough to read this thing.

But back to the personal attack by former classmate, which I kept as a comment to my original post.  I decided to not answer it, although my wife and I did contemplate a personal visit to his real estate office in South Orange County to confront him in person and see if he would man up enough to repeat that crap in public.  Suffice to say, I was sufficiently disturbed that I immediately decided that it was best to stay away from my high school’s reunion that year, for the simple reason that it made no sense to spend time with people that I legitimately wouldn’t enjoy being around.  While I missed out on the chance to see some friends with whom Facebook has allowed me to resume contacting, the anger he demonstrated is indicative of all that is wrong about the political process these days.  And, sadly, he knows even less about American history than even some of the struggling 5th graders I used to teach. 

Anyway, I wanted to start this project over again.  Let’s see how this goes.  I intend to touch base about the innocuous, share some views about my end of the school day wars, and post long form comments that make no sense on a more general Facebook page.  Ok, then. 

From one of my favorite films, Raising Arizona:

Parole Board chairman: They’ve got a name for people like you H.I. That name is called “recidivism.”
Parole Board member: Repeat offender!
Parole Board chairman: Not a pretty name, is it H.I.?
H.I.: No, sir. That’s one bonehead name, but that ain’t me any more.
Parole Board chairman: You’re not just telling us what we want to hear?
H.I.: No, sir, no way.
Parole Board member: ‘Cause we just want to hear the truth.
H.I.: Well, then I guess I am telling you what you want to hear.
Parole Board chairman: Boy, didn’t we just tell you not to do that?
H.I.: Yes, sir.
Parole Board chairman: Okay, then.