Survivors

Sixth period today I was visiting some with our new mascot while another student drew her.

She's been in foster care until she was 18. She's 19 now and lives with a friend she calls an "aunt." She transfered to Boyer Valley from an urban school in Omaha this year as a Senior. Last week she and her aunt moved to my Charter Oak, where I live, but she's still attending BV. She'd rather play basketball but they aren't allowing her to since she's a 5th year Senior.

She was born 3 months early with her internal organs outside her body. She never knew her Dad and doesn't talk with her biological Mom. She's an aspiring rapper. The youtube video of one of her raps says that she's a guy trapped in a girl's body.

She's not exactly a stellar student, but I know she's got a good heart. Here's how I know.

Part way through 6th hour someone came into my room and announced that "one of your cheerleaders is crying in the bathroom." Right away a Junior girl who had cheered for football season asked if she could go check on her, so I let her go. Word came that a Freshman boy had commented on how the Freshman cheerleader looked fat in her uniform. The Senior Mascot know the boy, asked me if she could go comfort the Freshman girl in the bathroom too. I let her, but instead, she went and calmly but authoritatively summoned the boy from his study hall, admonished him and demanded that he apologize to the girl, which he did.

Hall Duty

Crazy mornings are the best. 

Stress helps you think better; 

lethargy and apathy aren't options

You just get going and keep going

The wind howled all night long

the storm windows rattled

not that I sleep well when my wife is gone anyway.

My alarm didn't go off.

I woke up more than an hour later than usual

I scrambled to get ready

pack lunches for the kids

roust them out of bed to get them going.

I didn't get breakfast

didn't make coffee

reminded everyone to dress warm

and what work to get done when they get home

The car stalled at the corner

I noticed it was low on gas

it stalled again as I pulled up to the pump

I went inside to pay and grab some coffee

I grabbed an egg sandwich and a bottle of gas-line antifreeze

I hurriedly paid for it all

and slammed into the door with the sign that said

please use other door

About a third of the way to school

my cell phone rang

I looked forward to talking to my love

but instead heard my middle daughter in hysterics

Something about snow pants

the wrong snow pants

little sister not listening

put your sister on

listen carefully,

wear the ones in your bag

let your big sister wear the other ones

Ok? Ok. Love you Daddy, love you too

Back to the middle girl

still hysterical

But they don't fit either

and I can't find mine!

I'm already a half hour behind

I'll get to school late

and I have hall duty

I wish I could help you

Can you just calm down

it will be okay

it's just one day

stay inside

And whatever you do,

don't call Grandma

This is not that big a deal

breathe, Honey, just breathe

My cell rings again

this time it is my wife

Excited about your conference?

I hope it goes well

I love to hear her voice

It almost makes it worth missing her

Just call to say good morning?

No, one of the kids called, what's been going on?

Nothing

No big deal

We got it handled

Everything's okay

I run into school

and head out to the hall

ten minutes later

than I'm sure my principal would've liked

Hall Duty can be tedious

standing in one place

for a half an hour

keeping students from loitering before the bell rings

It's a slow morning

not so many kids

probably all late

because of the cold

I visit with a a few

congenial and calm

playing the role of the

steady and positive adult influence

I read my book of poetry

and look out down the hall

past the lunch room, through the windows out front

and see that the snow has started to fly

Do I sound like him?

Ever notice how when you're with someone
who has an accent
you can't help
but start to unconsciously mimic their accent

If you catch yourself you try to stop
because you don't want them to think
that you're making fun of them
but you just can't help it

You creep into matching their cadence, meter, and inflection.
I know that lots of times when I see a movie
I come away wanting to talk like Matthew McConaughey
Or Sean Connery or Liam Neeson

Today, for whatever reason
Having read some poems this morning
I want to write like Billy Collins
with quatrain stanzas

Entwurf von Scheiße: some loose ideas

Anne Lamott says that having lots of ideas brewing for a story is like having tons of boxes of ornaments but no tree to hang them on yet. Thats kinda how I feel about this whole new "Wolfmädchen" project.  I don't know if it's tonight's full moon or just that having finally gotten around to post those last to pieces got my juices going, but I'm having a hard time sleeping. So, here are some tree ornaments before before I forget:

• Sheep in Wolves' clothing
• Sheep dogs
• Coyotes
• No chickens were harmed in the production of this video
• whats up with a guy who carries around a King James Bible in his backpack but has nothing but Slipknot and Black Veil Brides on his iPod?
• Alpha dog
• Chew toy
• Canis dirus (dirus=abominable)
• Fox, dog, bitch, mama grizzly

Wolfmädchen; Waking up in Doctor Doolittle-Land

I was so dead to the world tired and achy. I just wanted to sleep forever. And I had the biggest headache of my life. But I couldn't fall  back to sleep  because I kept hearing these voices.

I rolled over on my side to try to make out who was talking and what they were saying. That's when it dawned on me that I was all alone and outdoors. I was so stiff and exhausted I didn't really care. Somehow I still had the costume on. I must've imagined it was my blanket on my bed at home.

It was still dark out, just before dawn, I heard someone talking again and instinctively flinched into a crouch and looked toward the sound- only to come face to face with a terrifying sight. At first all I could make out was fur, and a horrible stench. But I didn't hear any breathing but my own. Maybe it was dead, whatever it was. I gingerly reached out to touch the carcass to make certain it was just some kind of road kill. Instead I felt long, cold teeth, made out of polyurethane.

Whew! It was just my head.

I was relieved as when you go careening off the road into a snowbank in your car in winter but realize that thankfully you didn't hit another car. But I was still on my guard.

"What are you? What are you?" came one of the voices again. This time there was something furry and alive coming toward me. Again I was relieved when it was just a raccoon sniffing at me? Ordinarily you'd expect a 14 year old girl to be wigged out by even small wild vermin, but for some reason, I realized that I didn't have any reason to be afraid.

Unafraid as I was still didn't know who kept talking.

"What is it? What is it?"

"What are you? What are you? Are you a people or a dog? People or a dog?"

"Bugs, bugs," another voice said from a few feet away.

"Mmmm, good. Mmmm, fruit, mmmm, good" said another, I thought from up above.

"Are you a people-dog?" said the raccoon, looking up at me?

"What the hell?!" I said, "Are you- are you talking to me?"

"Who else? Dog-breath people-girl?" said the raccoon.

"Holy shit! This is too much. Somebody must have snuck some LSD into my Powerade at half time.

"Do you understand me, little guy?" I asked my new subsentence.

"Do you have any food?" it asked.

"Uh, no, sorry."

"No food? What good are you?" it snapped back, and started walking away.

"No wait! come back! How can you understand me?"

"Don't mind him. His kind all have one-track minds. Food food food. Not very smart at all." came a dry, superior voice, from above me. I looked up into the ash tree I apparently had fallen asleep under but only saw a crow.

"Excuse me," are you a crow?

"Corbin Corax is the name, and I happen to be a raven," he explained with some offense in his tone, "larger and much smarter than any crow."

"Great, I'm talking to a big black scavenger bird with a superiority complex. I still don't know if I'm cursed or just crazy, but I know I must be both."

"Perhaps, Dog-Girl, perhaps you are indeed a little of both."

"Oh Geez, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Maybe I'm just dreaming. Or maybe somebody really did drug me as a prank or something. I just want to get home and sleep it off and wake up and have life go back to normal."

Then as if on cue, quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

Wolfmädchen; Fish Breath

"So, you're a 'werebear?!'"

"You make it sound so dorky," he complained. Obviously I hurt his feelings.

"Well, who ever heard of a werebear? You gotta admit, it lacks that certain goth vibe."

"At least I don't eat people." Ouch, way to hit a girl where it hurts. Time to lighten things up.
"Yeah, how's that diet of berries and walleye treating you?"

"Pffff, I wish there was some walleye around here." I couldn't believe it, instead of dishing back, he got all reflective on me. "Pretty much nothing but crappies and bass around here. What I wouldn't give for some salmon. I wish my parents would get jobs in the Pacific Northwest."

Why is he always so damn serious? "God, no wonder your breath smells like it does."

"Hey at least I don't chase cats."

"Good one Pooh Boy."

"Pooh? Like Winnie the Pooh? I'm 6' 4", 320 pounds and like you, I transform into a hairy beast with massive claws and teeth and you STILL think I'm just 'Mr. Nice Guy,' all sweet and gentle."

I didn't think it would be a good idea to point out that his name was Ben at that moment.

"You'll have to forgive me, if I don't find you intimidating. After all,  I am the bearer of a thousand year old gypsy curse, tormented by demons, libel to get chased down by a mob of villagers with torches and pitch forks any day now."

Wolfmädchen; the concept

As I noted when I started this new blog, writing guru Anne Lamott says that it's important to allow yourself some "shitty first-drafts."

For a long time now I've had these ideas rolling around in my head for a book about a teenage girl werewolf. At first my concept was a cheerleader. But of course the market is glutted with paranormal teen romance gobligook. I was afraid it would be too Buffy-esque.

So then a friend of mine (who happens to be a former mascot) suggested she be a mascot. Could you imagine how funny it would be that no one would ever see her turn into a wolf, because she'd be in a dog suit anyway?

I had started thinking she was like a couple of different cheerleaders I had out in LA. But while they were both funny and pretty, neither had really developed senses of irony. In fact, while they weren't totally innocent, I think they were pretty much guileless.

So then who popped in my mind was a girl who actually came out for mascot this year, but then only did it for one game. She has this kind of conspiratorial, perpetual soliloquy thing about her. A little like in the movie Juno- but not nearly as bitter. Someone with enough sarcasm to be a great narrator, but who is still someone you could identify with, and care about.

So, anytime you see an entry tagged "Wolfmädchen" (Wolf-Girl) it will be one of many scattered, fragmented, unordered little "Entwurf von Scheiße" (shitty first draft).

I want it to be about all that difficult adolescent stuff, change, alienation, angst. But hopefully it will be funny. Just like Lon Chaney Jr's 1941 Wolf Man, I don't want her to be a sociopath (not that there aren't a lot of teenage girl sociopaths out there).

I know it's pretty pretentious to think I'm gonna write the great American novel. These days everybody and their brother wants to write a book. It may be that nothing ever comes of this, I'm pretty scatter-brained (not to mention busy) and I haven't got a lot of self-discipline. But these ideas keep popping into my head, so I thought it was high time that I start writing them down somewhere.

Ode to Jasper Johns

Here's a new watercolor painting with a touch of 9/11 in it. I worked it over with a lot of surface techniques so as much as I want it to be like a Jasper Johns, it has plenty of Jackson Pollack in it too.

Grateful for great girls this season

Over the years plenty of people have told me that I'm either some kind of saint, or certifiably crazy. There is certainly no shortage of egos, drama, tension, silliness, and annoyances. But most of the time it can be very rewarding. I believe God has taught me a lot through it (certainly patience) and I hope and sometimes think that He has used me to help teach and mentor the girls on my squads.

It can be stressful and I have a handful of friends, colleagues and former cheerleaders (including my wife) whom I can vent to when it gets hard- but I usually feel guilty about it because I'm constantly trying to impress on my cheerleaders the importance of being positive and because I don't want the people I'm venting to to conclude that it's a terrible hardship or that I dislike it and would rather get out of it.

So I would be remiss if I didn't take the time to thank God for the kids I have on this year's basketball cheer squads. Three of the four junior high girls are new as are three of the seven high school girls. A lot of coaches of ANY sport might tell you that it's hard to lose a lot of veterans because you have to go back and reteach the fundamentals. They'll often call it a rebuilding year or a growing year.

The thing about rookie cheerleaders is that they tend to be more coachable, more open to teaching and instruction. Girls who have been cheer for a few years start to get fiercely independent. It's good to be able to trust them to know what they're doing, but they can be less open to correction and and more likely to challenge your coaching. Which is okay, that's natural and all part of the process. But it's nice to be doing more actual coaching, and not merely advising or being just a sponsor again. Sure, it can be more work, but that just means more direct and deliberate interaction with kids. This is when teaching happens and when the relationships are established which will offer opportunities for mentoring later on.

So, I want to thank God for Lexis, Jarlin, Cathrine, and Jamie on my MS Squad and for Brittney, Shannon, and Jasmine on my HS Squad. 

Although, I still want to thank Him for those hard working veterans who know what they're doing too. I have no rhythm and can't remember most of our cheers. I'm not a dancer. I coach best when I'm coaching the fundamentals. Cheers and chants are passed down through oral tradition. This year, so far, I've been very blessed with girls that seem to work well together and get along- much less drama than some past years. So, I should also thank God for Renea and Tiffany, Brenda and Kayla- and for Cammey who comes inn to help me teach even though she's not cheering this season.

A wonderful chat with an old friend

A Man Without a Country by Kurt Vonnegut

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


I've always enjoyed Vonnegut's imagination and sense of humor in his novels, but I never knew how much we thought alike politically or philosophically until I read this little gem.

It's not an autobiography by any means and I'm not sure you'd call it a memoir. The blurb from the New York Times reviewer on the back cover says that it is "like sitting down on the couch for a long chat with an old friend." That's probably better than I could explain it.

It's not a big political rant, as the title may suggest. It's about lots of different things, from family to technology to WWII to how some of the nicest, smartest people come from the Midwest.

It's a collection of essays toward the end of the life of one of the funnest, funniest, sharpest, sweetest wits ever to come out of Indiana.

Having finished it, I am grieving, the same way you do when that long, warm conversation with an old, dear friend finally has to end and one of you has to go home and go to bed so you can get up and go to work in the morning. I wish this book didn't have to end.



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Purple Blues

Good Grief

Second week in November. We've been practicing in preparation of  basketball for a week now already.
This Senior girl comes to me and wants to be on squad. She's already 6 months pregnant.
Why wait until the last season of you Senior year?
I dunno?
Why do you want to cheer?
It'll look better on my college applications.
Uhuh.
And my probation officer wants me to do it.
???!!!

Almost there

I'm not quite sure what else I need. I don't want to go too far, but it hasn't told me that it's finished yet.

What I did on my lunch break

A veritable potpourri of pictures. Very therapeutic.

Day Three

It will be interesting to see where this painting takes me tomorrow. I know that it's not where it needs to be just yet. I know his eyes need to be darker. At least I'm getting some serious layers, range, contrast, and density- these are what a monochromatic painting should demonstrate. Check in tomorrow afternoon to see what happens.

19 yr old Senior's eligibility ran out

I wrote this to a Senior who cheered for football this year, who hasn't been in school for a week or more.

Hey kid- get well and get back to school.

You were making so much progress in Drawing, I'd hate for you to regress in skills.

I'm really looking forward to having you mascot for me too. You're awesome at encouraging the crowd, I think you'll be a great mascot.

Take some Vitamin C or echinacea or something.

Nasty rumor going around today that you're so despondent about not being able to play basketball that you're thinking about dropping out. I sure hope that's just a rumor. You're way too smart for that. Plus you can't play basketball in college if you don't go to college and you can't go to college if you don't graduate from hs.

You know you can always talk to me about anything. I'm here to listen. I know Ball meant a lot to you. Hang in there.

Lots of love, 

Coach Mal

Unfortunately, the email bounced back-

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Presidential Painting

Here are the first two days' progress on a new watercolor painting I'm doing. The assignment I gave my students is to create a monochromatic portrait, and include a value scale along the side.

I tried to find a fairly serious photo of the President. I wanted to avoid cheesy, overly exuberant, or angry. I think the one I found was pretty somber- although I suspect that my own disappointment in yesterday's mid-terms may  be intruding because he looks particularly melancholy. I was looking at the photo upside down, trying to render it as clinically and visually analytically a manor as I could. It will be interesting to see how this one progresses through the week.

Vote for Culver to Get the Job Done

Thanks to state investment under Democrats, Dubuque now is top city in America
DES MOINES – Forbes Magazine came out with their latest rankings on the best small cities to raise a family, and topping the list was Dubuque. They found that it is large enough to have a thriving business environment, yet small enough to not be overcrowded.

Under Governor Chet Culver, the state worked with local leaders and officials at IBM to bring the multi-national technology company to Duqubue. Thanks to the Iowa Values Fund, our successful public-private partnership, we were able to bring 1,300 good-paying, technology jobs.

“My administration has worked hard to bring new jobs and new opportunities to communities large and small all across Iowa, and no place highlights the success of our efforts more than Dubuque,” said Governor Culver. “We brought 1,300 jobs to this community with IBM. And through I-JOBS, we are improving the infrastructure of this community and laying the groundwork for future growth with an $8.1 million investment in 32 projects in Dubuque County. This new ranking confirms that the Culver/Judge Administration is getting the job done.”

The ranking by Forbes is one more top national ranking for the state of Iowa. Thanks to Governor Culver’s leadership, Iowa is now ranked:

1st in children’s health care thanks to our investments in HAWK-I and Medicaid

1st in renewable energy

2nd in fiscal situation

3rd best-run state in America

3rd best employment outlook in the nation

Top financial rating with a AAA bond rating

Iowa is the 6th top state for doing business

Iowa’s economic performance is the 8th in the nation thanks to I-JOBS

8th lowest unemployment in the nation

Des Moines and West Des Moines both rank in top ten best cities to relocate in America by Sperling’s


“When you rank in the top ten, why would you throw out the coach?” said Governor Culver. “Terry Branstad says that our record speaks for itself, and it certainly does. Under the Culver/Judge Administration, we have become one of the top states in America for kids, financial strength, and business. We are working hard to make our state the best in America, and I respectfully ask for your vote today so we can continue to move Iowa forward.”

---

Paid for by the Chet Culver Committee.

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