A Workman's Dream--Snippet 6

....So, I walk to work. It has become a part of me now. I actually look forward to it most of the time. The walking is not what gets to me though. It is the things I see and pass along the way that really get me thinking things I shouldn't be or wishing for things that will never be again, or for that matter, just ever be. All the things I see used to make me angry or bitter, but now they make my loneliness a little deeper and harder to bear. It is liking staring at the sun for me, except without all the adolescent bravado and only the stinging and burning left behind.

    I guess I am making it sound like I make the trek to Mecca or the pilgrimage to Canterbury each day, but its not like that at all. It's really just a three street walk that encompasses only about a mile and a half, or that's at least what I got a friend to measure out for me on his odometer last time we had a downpour here about a month ago when I had to ask for a ride home. I really dislike asking for rides, but people always like to offer; especially married guys with kids. They are always looking for a reason to stay away from home for a little longer, or at least the guys I work with are.

    Even though, it isn't far. it is still a journey I make everyday. And these journeys are things I have been making my whole life. Sometimes, they take me far from what I know, but other times they take me to places I know so well that I miss what I could see because I am only using my own eyes to look around. I know this sounds silly, but it is always traveling. And the traveling may have nothing to do with actually leaving a place. Sometimes, I can be standing in the back of Sears and see an old, red pickup pass by and it instantly takes me to when I was 16 and three states away. I can remember everything about it. I remember the feel of the early morning air, the tingles on my back as I first saw the truck and realized it was mine, the shouts of delight from my sisters and mom as we drove around the block, the reassurance of my father as I jostled the gears and ground them into the column, etc. This remembering is a curse and a blessing for me. It is the driving force for all of my journeys. Maybe, I could say that this is really my story. It is a story of journeys that drive me so deep inside myself that I begin to suffocate on the recollections and only resurface to the present when something shocks me back into it. It is always violent or I would probably never come back because the past is so much better than the present and the future is terrifying.

   Like I just finished saying, its not the actual act of walking that bothers me. It's the things I see along the way.....

Enjoy and be on the look out for Snippet 7,
   David

Me and My Roku

      I know the grammar in the title is incorrect, but there used to be a song on Sesame Street called, Me and My Lama, and I really liked it. Strike that, I still like it. I still sing it to Mel and insert many items in the plce of llama. I would imagine that you could find it on YouTube. Heck, even Helen Keller and the real King George VI are on there. I digress. I am pretty good at that. Ask Mel or my students, but don't ask Jack and Lady. They don't listen. They're over my little stories and anecdotes.

      This is a picture of a Roku player and it leads us all to a confession. Hello, my name is David Dark and I am a Roku addict. Making this confession is not as easy as it reads. It really is the latest card in my house of cards. Admitting I am addicted to Roku leads me to some other confessions that I am not ready to give up as of yet. I pretend I don't like watching t.v. I then sneak home and watch my Roku.This is one of many. Try to keep it on the down low though. It will ruin my street cred with the couple of Hipsters I know.  I'll throw you guys another bone though, one of them is my feigned dislike for air conditioning. It has some truth to it. I lived many years of my life without it and grew to know I like life without it and can live without it. However, I love cranking the A/C down and feeling the cool air come straight out of the vents; especially during the hot, Georgia summer which lasts from early April till mid-December. And...I digress even further.

      I am addicted, but only most recently found this out. Our Roku player died. I did everything I know how to do along with everything that Nada and Raul from India told me to do. They were great. They taught me everything I never wanted to know about our machine and our wireless network. They even asked about the weather in Georgia and what time I went to work, but all of these parlor tricks and pleasantries didn't bring my Roku player back to life. However, a warranty did. My heart skipped a beat. It may have been heard throughout the city streets and parks of New Delhi.

     We received our new Roku player in the mail today. We opened the box and marveled at the wonder of technology and how bright and shiny it all is. We were headed out for a walk. We shut it down; the walk that is. The new Roku machine called out to me and it had to be set up. It is. 24 is on. The movie, Catfish, was on. Everything is back to being ok in the world. Libya has settled down. Oil went back down and OPEC said they would bring it down to 1998 prices because they already have too much money. Obama found more than two Motown artists to attend his Motown Party. The teachers and other public employees in Wisconsin decided it was only fair that they have to pay for some of their retirement funds because most other Americans do. People with just one kid have decided to just drive a station wagon because they are cool again. My students instantly understand radioactive decay. The Roku player is back and so much better. Mel and I are back to saying things like:

  "Ready to Roku?", "Let's Roku that.", "Let's just  Roku for a little while.", "We are so going to Roku that.", and "I need to do me a Roku.", etc.

Life is back to normal. The Roku player is streaming. Jack Bauer is back to saving America from the world and itself. May our Roku never bite the dust again. Hope you will start "Roku-ing" soon. In my RA meetings, they say "Roku-ing" alone is the first sign of addiction. Let's have one last look, shall we?




David


 

  

Tonight, I Celebrate My Love For You..... #1

  If you know me, you know that I am not afraid to share my opinion about certain things. If you don't know me, then now you know something about me. This can be good or bad. This is something I am trying to do less of. The older I get the more I cringe when I think about opinions that I shared with folks. Hopefully, they don't remember. I wish I didn't. Several years ago, my students ask me if I hated everything and if I ever had anything that I liked. I then realized two things: 1) I shouldn't comment on things high-schoolers love because I am not in high school; we will never agree and, 2) I should occasionally mention things to people that I like, or love. I even went so far once to go make a list of 100 things that I love and I shared them with the class. I am an extremist. It is in the genes. (I know this is my second comment in a short amount of time about genes. They're on the brain. I am teaching about Genetics in my Biology class) But do not worry, I will not force that upon you. However, I thought I could occasionally add to this series and maybe some of you could let me know about things you love. This list is in no order of importance. Of course Mel should be #2 and the members of the Trinity should be #1. We all know that. So....

Tonight, I Celebrate My Love For You..... Nike Air Pegasus

    This is the Nike Air Pegasus +27. They are my favorite running shoe. I have tried many other brands: Adidas, New Balance, Asics, Somnio, and most recently Brooks. They were all good for a time, but in the end, I came crawling back to the Air Pegasus. There are many reasons that I have come back. Nike has been making this shoe since 1983; a magical year for many out there (My lovely wife was born in 83 and my little sis, Armanda No-Poles was too). Like most products, there have been great years and there have been years we would all like to forget. As I have said, running is like any other hobby in that there are cycles where certain gear is hot and then it disappears from sight; except for the occasional male or female who is trying by themselves to bring said item back. I have been that guy before. It is lonely, but all good causes are, right? They have gone through many aesthetic changes over the years, but overall, the shoe has remained a good all-around running shoe. It is for folks that need a neutral shoe. The Air Pegasus is good for short runs and long runs, they are good for track and hill workouts, they are good for road or trail runs (your socks will get wet, but I am not big on this.)

The 83' Air Pegasus



  One of the best things about the Air Pegasus is the price. It remains a constant price as well. As most shoes keep getting pricier and pricier, the Pegasus remains about the same. It is really good when you can find last year's model and get it for 40-60 dollars. When they first come out every year, they are supposed to sell for $90, but I have never paid that much. The most I have paid is $69.99. Not too bad when, most folks are paying between $90-150 for a good set of running shoes.

   Talk of how much a shoe costs brings something else to mind for me, "how long will they last?" When you are running, they say you are supposed to replace your shoes every 350-500 miles; depending on how often you are running, where you are running, your weight, etc. I like to try and get 350-400 miles out of each pair I buy. I'm not so keen about paying $70 for a pair of shoes that Nike built for $1.25. The Pegasus always last me quite a while and I run in a variety of places and run them through the mill! (Pun Intended) and they still last for a long time. After I retire them, they also last quite a while as yard shoes.

   Several other aspects that I like about the Air Pegasus are these: it is compatible with the Nike Plus system and website, they are great shoes right out of the box and do not have to be broken in (ran a 9 mile run right out of the box and didn't have any blisters), they truly last 300-400 miles, each new model rights what went wrong with the last model, and they have never, never hurt my feet!

Hoping your next shoe will be a Nike Air Pegasus,

   David
  

    

A Workman's Dream--Snippet 5

......I hope not one of you who are listening to any of this are to the point of feeling sorry for me because that is also on the list of things that really get to me. Once you get labeled as someone to feel sorry for, it seems to stick and stick for good. Everyone then spends their time patting you on the back and telling you things will start looking up a little bit farther down the road, or how things always get bad before they get good, or some other crazy nonsense that someone who hasn't given a second thought about what they're saying to you because if they would have, they wouldn't of said it. The thing that really gets me the most about people mopping around for you is they're always talking about times in life when black clouds of bad luck seem to just follow you around, but the only real black clouds in my life were the ones talking to me about my current case of bad luck.

      I guess all of this is leading me up to what I really want to talk about and that is I'm lonely. I know that sounds small, but it isn't to me. It's been working on me pretty badly lately; gnawing at me like some parasite that's been deep inside me, but has now out of hunger made it to the surface. I think it's mostly because Spring is here. The azaleas don't really get to me anymore, but the dogwoods and honeysuckle get me every time. It wouldn't be that bad and Spring wouldn't weigh that heavily on me, if I didn't have to spend so much time with it, but it's really not a choice I get to make anymore. It's been made for me.
    
      I walk to work and then back home. It takes about twenty-five minutes one way, but I rarely walk that fast; especially on my way back home. It's not so bad most of the time, but sometimes I hate it so bad that I can't see straight. I start wishing everything would have gone differently and that I lived somewhere else, but mostly just that I'd have a car. Guys with cars don't know what they've got; even the ones with crappy cars that are covered in rust and stickers that don't belong to them. Everyone thinks people that walk are homeless or some sort of deviant and that's a whole new can of worms that gets me so steamed, but I've already jumped around so much that I think I'd better tie up some ends before you quit listening altogether. I'd hate that because you can always tell when someone quits listening to you. They start fidgeting or looking around and they try to stop you when you come to some brief pause. You can see them going crazy inside trying to find something, anything that sounds plausible about why they would need to leave at that particular moment. I know this sounds stupid, but I always end the conversation for them. I'll look at my watch and act surprised and then rush away saying something about having to be somewhere, but if you really know me, I haven't had to rush anywhere in a very long time.

   So, I walk to work. It's sort of become a part of me now...

Keep writing or shut it down. Fitzgerald is said to have had 10,000 false starts. Is this one of mine?
   David

We Interrupt the Regularly Scheduled Story to Ask, "When and Where Does the Insanity End?"

*This post is for those that need a break from reading the story.

This has been a hard week. It has been ONE of those weeks. It has actually been ONE of those months. But this is not a post about how hard my life is because I know each of you have really hard areas of your life too. Everyone does. However, this post is about INSANITY!

   Over the last couple of weeks, I have noticed almost too many things that I am having trouble understanding. Maybe you do. I am asking for help. Understand that it is not easy for me to ask for help. I'm a Dark. It's all in the genes. Here they are:

1. Yesterday, there was a large article in the Macon Telegraph about Facebook. I got the article, but also didn't get it. It was about how the largest demographic for Facebook are people who are 34-46. I get that. It makes sense. But the main part of the article was about how more and more kids are not "friending" their parents and how frustrated their parents are about it. Am I insane? Since, when do you get to decide to let your parents into your life? Since when do you, as a parent, "friend" your child and patiently wait for them to accept you? Whose computer are they on? Who paid for it? I don't have the answers. I mean, I know the answers, but this is insane.

2. This has to do with Cam Newton. I understand what a great football player he is. I know some of you are Auburn fans. But the other day on the Internet, I saw a story about how Newton just signed the largest endorsement ever given to a rookie NFL player. The sum was undisclosed, but he turned down a $90 million deal from Nike. This part I understand, but then the article went on the describe the "trials" that Newton has had to go through. In high school, he got in a large amount of trouble for being given a new Hummer to drive by a school to play for them. He signed a large money deal as his first act as a NFL player. BUT? BUT? He was and is completely innocent for trying to get money to play in college? Does this make sense?

3. This has to do with Verizon Wireless. Everyone month, I go through the same motions with Verizon. I will call it our Wireless Waltz. Every month, they mail me a late notice about my bill. Then about three days later, they mail me my bill. During the three days between my late notice's arrival and my bill's arrival, folks from Verizon call me every hour and want to know what am I going to do about my late bill? I have no answer for them. Why? Because I haven't gotten the bill yet. I do not understand this. Maybe you do.

4. This has to do with the Grammy's. I didn't watch them. We don't have cable. However, the Internet is full of stories about the best dressed and the worst dressed. Most of it, is about the worst dressed. They seem amazed and go on, and on, and on about it all. This I don't understand. The main purpose of an actor/singer/entertainer is to get your attention and make you talk about them. The more you talk, the more money they make. Right? How much would you talk about Gaga if she wore a normal dress and sang songs about loving her husband of 20 years? How many pics of Yo-Yo Ma at the Grammy's were there? He was there.  The answer is zero. I just don't understand the outrage.


5. I love going to the movies. I love watching movies. I credit this love to genetics and my wife. My mom loves going to the movies. My dad loves, or at least used to love watching Univision late at night with the sound off and coming up with lines for the actors to say in English. We once did this together during the 1992 election when things were headed south. It is one of my favorite times I have had with my dad. It was when I discovered he also was funny and probably once really enjoyed talking about silly things too. Mel loves movies almost as much as she loves Coke. However, what is up with almost, every new movie's almost complete dependence on CGI? Am I the only one who can tell the action scenes, airplanes, sunsets, etc. are all fake? Why did all the actors that I grew up with actually do what I got to watch them do; or at least get a stuntman to do it for them, but now all I get is something someone pretended to do in front of a green screen and then some techy-fellow added everything else. I almost can't take it. It is too fake. I feel like I am forever in the SOARING ride at Epcot, but I am the only who remembers that we aren't really hang gliding across the world in two minutes. Well, and Mel does too! And Jack and Lady just want more churros and to do Test Track for the 10th time in a day.

6. Don't worry, this is the last one. It is about the Boston Marathon. The Boston Marathon is the most prestigious marathon in the USA, maybe the world. The reason for this is because it is exclusive. You have to qualify for the race; something I will never be able to do. I understand all of this. What I don't understand is this: before they had qualifying times, no one besides those in MASS. wanted to run the race. Then they added qualifying times, hard ones. Then it spread like wildfire. This coming version sold out in eight hours. I mean T. Swift or CHER don't sell out in 8 hours. GARTH does, but they don't. This made the BAA (Boston Athletic Assoc.) very upset. So, in order to solve the crisis at hand, they.....A) got rid of the standards in order to make someone not really care about running it, or B) increased the hardness of the qualifying standards to make it even more exclusive and more desirable? What would you do? But you know the answer, this is a post about what I don't understand. Maybe you do. Here are the new qualifying times. It looks like I will have to keep running into my 80's in order to get in. Or maybe I should just settle for a local race that offers a chicken biscuit, if I can finish three miles in a little more than an hour. The biscuits are very good, expecially when you grab two and eat one at the race, go home, shower, sleep for two hours, and then wake up to a chicken biscuit! I am sure I burned at least 1000 calories running, right? You don't have to answer. I know it. The answer is yes and I need to eat something sweet and drink some choco. milk to wash it all down!

For 2013, there are new qualifying times


Age Group Men Women


18-34 3:05:00 3:35:00


35-39 3:10:00 3:40:00


40-44 3:15:00 3:45:00


45-49 3:25:00 3:55:00


50-54 3:30:00 4:00:00


55-59 3:40:00 4:10:00


60-64 3:55:00 4:25:00


65-69 4:10:00 4:40:00


70-74 4:25:00 4:55:00


75-79 4:40:00 5:10:00


80+ 4:55:00 5:25:00

Just trying to understand the world around me, but not doing such a good job,
   David

PS: Just heard a radio story about how the FDA has discovered that drinking Coke or Pepsi is not good for you. Who drinks a Coke or Pepsi because they are good for you? I just don't understand. How do you get a job somewhere that you can get paid to come up with "scientific" results like the above. Call me and I will apply!

A Workman's Dream--Snippet 4

...Truth be told, I dislike the break room more than any other room I have ever been required to spend time in, in my whole life. It is a place of silent torture. I dread going there, but we aren't supposed to go anywhere else during our breaks, or I would. I used to hang out front and watch people coming and going and try to imagine where they came from and where they were going, but my supervisor said it looked wrong; so I quit. I then tried hanging out back, but the store backs up to a vacated Wal-Mart building and it gets the best of me, so I don't go there either. There are too many reasons why I hate going to the break room, but the main one is that I really dislike pretending I'm tired from doing nothing all day or that my job description should require less and should include more pay. I hate sitting there pretending I am solving world hunger and finding a cure for diabetes when all I am really doing all day is selling vacuums and mower parts. I hate all the small talk. I hate how people get so riled up about things that really have nothing to do with them, but that is how it goes. People, at least the ones I work with, love becoming consumed with everything that surrounds their lives. It helps them forget their own, I guess. It makes sense, but I don't do that. The only thing I don't get is that if you hate your life so much, then, why don't you change it. We do that with most everything else. I changed mine. It was like changing shirts or the t.v. channel. It just hurt a little, but the pain didn't last too long. It has been dulled along with my imagination.

     Now, believe when I say I don't mind talking, but its the small talk that really gets to me.  I don't care too much about politics. Can't think of a lot that politicians do for me or vice versa. I don't care too much about television shows. Can't think of much that t.v. has given me except to highlight my loneliness and my lack of possessions. I don't care too much about sports. Can't think of a lot that the pro players do for me. My line I always go to that gets a couple laughs every now and then is that I will start caring about whatever their talking about when they start mailing me a paycheck for caring. I used to swing by the convenient store on the way to work every morning and read the headings to all the top stories in each section of USA Today in order to stay relevant, but I don't do that anymore. It helped because people don't get any deeper than the headlines, but it got exhausting. However, the longer I work here, the less I feel like I have to try to be relevant in conversation. I know this makes me sound weird, but its not that I hate talking, but I hate the small talk. It makes me feel like I am about to suffocate. Maybe this makes me weird, that's fine. It wouldn't be the only thing people have said that is weird about me.

  I'm not complaining about anything, of course. I'm only telling you about how I think. I hate complaining and those who are always doing it. Now, don't get me wrong, I only used to do it all the time and now I'm sick and tired of it. It didn't really get me anywhere. Well, I say that, but it did get me home a little more quickly because I was so bitter about how everything has turned out and how unfair life has been to me, but home is no place to rush back to. I live alone.....

Be on the look out for Snippet 5, (Starting to feel like the singer who put out the hit, "Cha, Cha Slide", who for the last 13 years has been promising a remix, but I have yet to hear it. Sorry.)

   David

A Workman's Dream--Snippet 3

...I try to be positive about my life. Its hard, but that's what they say you're supposed to do. Or at least that's what the magazines in the break room say. Some of those magazines spend a lot of words talking about finding purpose and your place in the world. To be honest, I got into all of that last year. I even hitched a ride from one of my co-workers to the local bookstore and bought several books about purpose and having life goals. I quit after the third one though.They all started sounding the same and I just started feeling foolish for wasting my money on them. Well, it was more anger than direct foolishness. Fools don't know better, but I should have. I was actually pretty angry about the whole thing for several days because I didn't have any real goals or purpose in life except getting to work on time and making it to payday every two weeks, but all of that anger got transferred to the books themselves because there are few things worse than paying for someone to tell you something you already know. However, all of that fisseled out in a couple of days. I even went as far as to write out a couple of goals I made up to fill in one of the workbook sheets that came with one of the books. I hung them up next to my bathroom mirror. They're still there, but I know them by heart, so I don't look at them anymore. I made them up. They still feel fake and don't think they ever won't, but I don't have the heart to take them down; even realists dream when no one is watching or listening.
      I guess the only thing I really learned from those books is that if I wanted to write a book that sounded almost identical to one that already exists, it'd probably sell a million copies, but I don't want to do all those news shows. I can just see the captions now. I'd be up there talking all this junk about whatever my book was about and how it is so new and groundbreaking and below me on the screen it would flash that I used to be a Sear's employee, but now I was some big-time writer. Then they'd ask what was next for me and I'd probably forget my new life and answer something dumb about how April is our half price month on all our lawncare products. I'd rather be dead or forgotten than an overnight sensation and that's what I'd be. My whole story would be one of those flash in the pan, heartwarming, rags to riches stories that everyone at work talks about during our breaks or lunch. I don't really listen to them anymore. That's why I started reading the magazines. That's really the only reason I look at them because if I sit real quiet and pretend to read, then I don't have to chime in with some cliche that everyone shakes their heads to and then goes back to work feeling  all cheery and wishing the rags to riches story was ours. I can't think of many things I hate more than that....

Be on the lookout for Snippet 4,
   David

   

A Workman's Dream--Snippet 2

...I work at Sear's and Roebuck. Its not such a bad job, but it isn't exactly what I'd dreamed of doing long ago when dreams were realities and realities were strangers only to be feared in the darkness of night. I guess that isn't what you're supposed to do. They say you're supposed to enjoy the present or you'll miss it, but I don't think whoever said that lives near me. I know people judge me by my vocation. I can see them looking at me, then at my name on my shirt, and then lastly at the silly shirts we all have to wear. Then they look past me as if their minds have come to some logical conclusion about me and how all my hopes, dreams, and desires have brought me to this place of work. But they do not know me and never will. There is this great yearning in me that they will never, never ever understand. It drives me to come to this place each day because most of those who judge me could never work more than a week here being treated the way I am. Many of you will think that is what this is all about, but to be blunt, it may be that you do not even understand yearning in itself; at least the yearning that is inside me. It is not different from what lives inside you, but mine has been something to me like being nauseated. It has driven me to look far past what I wanted to see. It has sent me on journey after journey, but this moving about will cause the rest of you to think that this is what I'm really trying to talk about and you'll brush it aside and say that I'm just restless, or even worse that I just like to travel, or that I'm just not comfortable with being in one spot, but those who think that are even worse to me than the others. I long to be still. To revel in a universe that swirls around me while I am moving; cirlces within circles, moving, rotating, axis within an axis, round and round till I forget where it started. I long to be the axis instead of on the outside of a wheel, but this is not what is set out for me. I have been given this unquenchable yearning. I have tried to kill it, but it will not leave me or let me leave it. It is as much a part of me as my heart that pumps the red blood through my veins. It is in there with all the rest of me. I can feel it move around in me. It is unquenchable. It is the force behind all of my stories. It is my story. It is a story of yearning, but it didn't start out to be this way. It couldn't have. I am 30 years old and I work at Sear's...

Hope you enjoy a little more. More to come.
   David

A Workman's Dream--A Story Snippet (Remixed a Little)

    I am told that not too long ago that people told each other stories. Now, not everyone was good at it, but I have also heard that there were many who could do it so well that they could suck you right out of the present and have you breathing 50 year old air in less than a sentence. I am sad that no one does much of this anymore. I've seen advertisements for story-telling competitions and folk festivals that feature it here and there, but have heard that it is more about trying to keep alive whatever is left of an oral tradition in America. But its been a long time since I've heard a good story and can't say I know a good teller.

   Now, I don't claim to be one of those tale-tellers for I haven't heard many good stories that deserve to be retold. In fact, adding to them would make them worse than they already are. I think most of the real good stories are gone forever. We've dressed them so much that we've forgotten that the story is inside there real deep. We've forgotten its true color. I have no idea how to see it. There aren't any teachers out there anymore. We are all students with no real teacher. In fact, I think we've lost more than just good stories or story-tellers these days, but we've lost our imaginations. I'm not sure I'd even be able to recognize a 50 year old breeze blowing through what little hair I have left; much less be able to imagine breathing it. I know I've already said it makes me sad and I don't believe much sadness needs to be spoken of twice, but sometimes thoughts like we are losing our imaginations drives me out into the night for long, lonely walks when all the sounds that I notice are the solitary humming I hear from the street lights. Sometimes, I feel as if this is where I always am. I am always the young boy walking underneath the streetlights. It is as if these lamps are where my story begins and ends. The humming is all I really hear within my ears, swirling, twirling, decibel upon decibel, constant wave upon wave of sound filling me up and then leaving as if my ears were my lungs. I wonder if I will forever be walking towards the next streetlight and hoping that it at last is my journey's end and I have finally come to an answer that will be sufficient and let me rest, but after 30 years, I feel that there just may not be this final answer and that I will always be out there somewhere between awake and asleep, walking, wandering, yearning to get to that next streetlamp and rest for a short while beneath its soft and precious fluorescent glow. It is as if I am an ill-contented moth and will never find happiness in one streetlamp alone.

  I say all of this because I would like to try and tell you a story. It's not too good and I am not a true teller. I haven't let the tales I know sit in my head and fester long enough to earn some meaning, but I'm trying. Like I mentioned, I've neither good stories to retell nor a great imagination. It's sadly been dulled quite a bit. The only real story I know or have is my own. So if you have time for a story, I'd like to start at the very beginning.

 And if, I'm gonna tell you about everything like I think you want me to, then you'd better know some things about me first. I work at Sears.....

Hope you enjoy. It will be continued someday. Or should it?
  David

Thursday Night Run Group

   Running is a great activity, but it can also be something much, much worse. Running by yourself can really highlight those bad things that running can seem like. At times, it seems like you could never run again and no one would even notice. Other times, it seems that no matter how hard you are working each day, that all you are getting is slower and weaker. You begin to wonder if those other hobbies that many of your friends partake in are not so much better than yours. Expensive golf or sitting in a cold, wet deer stand seem to start appearing so much more appealing when you can't remember the last time you finished a run and were amazed at your self. I am saying all this to put my hand out in an offer to help. I do not want your running to continue on in loneliness. I don't want you to hang up your spikes. I would rather you come to 286 Hines Terrace every Thursday at 7:30 pm and run with me. I am starting a little run group. It cost nothing. I am may even throw in some cold water.  It has one purpose and that is to remember why we love running. That is it. I don't care about pace, mileage, routes, etc. I just want to run and come back happy. I want to have to stop because I am laughing or because I just want to quit. If we have to slow down in order for you to keep up, fine. Next week it may be me that holds people back.  If we have to turn back and try a route with less hills, fine. I will just be happy to be roaming the Macon streets in a pack. It will scare all those negative thoughts and have them stay far away.  So...please come to my new run group. Anyone is welcome. Anyone.

David

From Synthesizers to Keytars

  Being a teacher is unlike any job I have ever had. There is something everyday that students will say, or ask, or mention that is from so far into left field that it catches me by complete surprise. You would think this couldn't be true after seven years of teaching, but then you might expect children to follow regular patterns of thought and reasoning. But I am afraid this couldn't be farther from the truth. This always makes me laugh inside, but it also makes me a little fearful of the future. I say this because I am always hearing this, "these children are the future." I think if people really thought about that, they would say it a lot less. Here are some examples of what I mean:

Student: "Mr. Dark, is it true that if I hit my fingers together, they will get shorter?"
Me: "No, I don't believe that's true."
Student: "I heard it from my friend and he is really smart."
Me: "Think about what you are asking. Do you think it makes a bunch of sense that each time you hit your fingers that they would get shorter. Would anyone have long or even normal-sized fingers?"
Student: "I guess it does make sense. I bet it is true."

*In an attempt to explain synthesis reactions, I asked my students this:

Me: "Do you guys know what a synthesizer is? Have you ever seen one being used"
Students: "No, Mr. Dark, I've never even heard of that word."
Me: "You guys have never heard or played a synthesizer. It is a big keyboard that you can make sound like almost any instrument."
Students: "Nope, never, ever."
Me: "Are you serious?"
Student: "Mr. Dark, did you mean to say a keytar?"
Me: "No, I do not mean a keytar and just never mind."

And lastly, from a recent track practice:

Student: "Coach, I better take it easy for the rest of practice."
Me: "Okay, but what seems to be the problem?"
Student: "Coach, when I was little I had to have pins put in my left leg and I think they are getting loose and going to start falling apart and I don't want my leg to fall apart."
Me: "Okay, just run a little more slowly. I am pretty sure you will be okay. I don't think your leg is going to start falling apart from running 200s. You will be just fine. Why don't you jog over and grab some water."
Student: "Sounds good, coach. Thanks."
Me: "You're welcome."

Hope you hear something odd from a child today, or at least hear someone talking about keytars,
  David