Compromising Victory

I’ve held off on this post for over a week.  Not because I was too busy celebrating over the major sweeps Democrats made…though I was celebrating.  Repeatedly, with no sign of a diminishing enthusiasm.  My team won, cleaned up in almost every section of the state, and won the presidential election with room to spare.  Fantastic…now go lead.

After looking at this election, my thought is simple: what’s really changed?  We have a senate minority leader who still thinks he’s in the majority, a House of Representatives that is still in lock step amongst party lines, and neither part of congress can seem to agree on what’s going to be done about anything.  A week has gone by, and I can visualize two-hundred-plus weeks in the future of the population asking why are we paying taxes?  For the honor of hearing a hundred senators say something must be done and then sit there?  Have a president demand reforms the populace agrees with, but will never pass because they don’t poll well enough nationwide?

We are a country divided.  First off on that note, good.  Differing opinions rock, that’s how policies are refined.  If we can have two positions on an issue, I’m sure we could find a third.  But we are not looking at differing policies, but two mountains staring at each other across a valley.  They won’t move any which way, just stands as the wind blows by, confident of their own self-importance.  Meanwhile the world goes on.

We are facing huge and immediate dangers in this country.  Foremost is the fiscal cliff, President Bush’s tax cuts are set to expire at the end of this calendar year.  Suddenly everyone will turn around and notice that their money isn’t theirs anymore, but it’s with a government that has no clue about what to spend this new money on.  President Obama is demanding that people making over a quarter of a million dollars a year should pay more taxes.  Congressional Republicans claim the president has not given congress a viable plan.  Rock, hard place, and the American people are caught right in the middle.

This isn’t a simple decision.  Is there a need for more taxes on the extremely wealthy?  Yes, if only so we can start balancing a budget, get our country back where it belongs, and start removing the national debt from our minds.  But at the same time, there are entitlements that need to be removed, reformed and restructured.  So both sides are right, and both sides are wrong.  How this economic decision is made isn’t the simple decision.  But making that decision, actually committing to doing something other than complain that nothing is being done, that is quite simple.  Politicians weren’t elected just so they could be on TV twenty-four seven and have a cool letterhead.  They are expected to make actual decisions.

We have a fantastic government, capable of extraordinary things.  But first it needs to stop screaming at itself.

Stay strange.

“Democracy is the worst form of government…except for all those others that have been tried.”

-          Winston Churchill

Diary of an Unemployed Wanderer, Part 10

Three weeks.

I’ve been gone for three weeks.  I haven’t touched a computer for three weeks.  Holy…something.  If anyone is keeping up with this thing…sorry.  I’ve been busy.  Doing what?  Being alive.

I never realized how hard that statement really is.  Society never really takes into account all the things we do for ourselves.  The things we do not for anything more than it’s right.  Things like food.  Water…flu shots…yes, I’ve been out for three weeks with the flu.

I caught it in the middle of October, and thought I’d be out for a couple days.  Have a nice story about how interesting it is to actually have the flu.  And then I realized that I was roughing it along the Mississippi river.  In Iowa.  In October.  The stupid award goes to me, I know.

But enough about illnesses.  I’m back, and showered, and I’m finally feeling better.  And still unemployed.  No, the ID thing has been on hold.  I realized that a flu-stricken English teacher was not exactly the best resume to hand in.  So now I’m here, raring to go.

And unemployed.  And running out of illegal money.

I need to do something…

How do we Break the Roles we've chosen?

Why does a drop of water follow the riverbed?  Because that is all it has ever known, all it will ever know.  It will follow that riverbed clear to the ocean, until it is swallowed up by the sky and sent down to begin its life again.  And we are all drops of water in riverbeds of our choosing.

Careers.  Relationships.  Personal hobbies, interests, even sports teams are all roles that we have chosen to fulfill in our lives.  To become part of something greater, we define ourselves as part of a group, rather than as an individual.  To do so grants each and every one of us power, the power of the majority, of belonging.  And deprives us all of choice.  And what is more important: the power to follow, or the choice of nothing?

We all must make our decisions of whether or not to be a part of society, of society’s rules.  Follow them and you have untold opportunities in the field of your ability and stomach for boredom.  Break these rules and you will be cast out, free in your insanity and ramblings against the status quo.
Society only works if we understand how to best facilitate it.  But our individualism demands that we don't simply settle into a role.  While I personally love to be known as an individual, I also love to help everybody, and sometimes I must set aside my differences in deference to order.

I am rambling.  What is the point of this diatribe, to challenge what is?  No, simply to reveal what we know to be true.  There are roles that we all fill, and we must understand what they are if we are to overcome them.  To overcome, not to break away from or distance ourselves.  If we understand our roles in society, we can fulfill our self-imposed destinies and in doing so fulfill our greatest dreams.

Why does a drop of water follow the riverbed?  What would it do if it tried to leave?  And what would happen if it had help?

The ramblings of a radical citizen.

Teaching Parents: How We Understand Children

Parents, how do you understand your kids?  Honest question, with a very unclear answer.  How do you figure out the best way to be a parent?  It seems you can’t.  Your child isn’t even born yet, how could you possibly know how to be the best parent to the kid?  Maybe it’s impossible to tailor yourself to the future, but I believe it is possible to better understand the youth in all its forms.  The answer: go back to school.

I wish new parents would spend time in school.  Not night school, but around children.  Not just middle school or high school or elementary school, but every type of school.  Public or private, parents need to be around kids.  The reason why is simple; we understand more about people we share experiences with.  Being around kids of all different age groups would help you know what a kid is like, what kids are doing, what they want to do.  Being around kids is getting to know them.

“But I’m bad around kids”.  I’ve heard this around college, around the workplace…people thinking that they aren’t the best thing for kids.  Not that they are bad role models, they just haven’t found a way to be around children.  My response is be around them.  Children love to teach adults about what it means to be a child.

Has this been a problem, not understanding our children?  Of course.  There are kids in this country who don’t know about our government.  There are kids in this country who don’t care about anything more than getting to the next level of Halo.  I personally don’t care if a student is not the brightest, or the strongest, or the fastest.  But the desire to learn more about the world, the emotional capacity to live in this country as a productive member, we aren’t born with it.  We learn how to be good people from our parents.  And parents are duty-bound to honor this, to become teachers of civility, of society.  Parents are our first teachers.

I’ve spent the last two months teaching high school English.  Not a long time by any means, but the experience has been illuminating.  I have had some great students so far, and teachers that floor me almost daily with their abilities.  They aren’t worried about one or two kids, but twenty.  And they do it with integrity and intelligence.  We need parents like we need teachers.  Compassionate, with just enough discipline to make sure our students stay on the right path.  So parents, be teachers.  Be around kids.  The best teachers, are always learning.

Diary of an Unemployed Wanderer, Part 9

October 14, 2012

I feel like I’m in hiding.

I didn’t post last week.  Not because I was running from the law, and not because I was in fear for my life.  I was somewhere along the Mississippi river, and it was cold.  I’ve been walking a lot more since it’s way too cold to fly very high around populated areas.  And I’ve still had a ton of time to practice flying.  Unfortunately, to practice it I’m finding I have to stay more and more not just under the radar, but completely out of the radar’s scope.  I hadn’t seen someone for three days before I almost smacked my face on this truck stop.  Hadn’t looked where I was going, and I hadn’t seen a wifi station this far west for about ten days.

People don’t realize how unpopulated America really is.  We think of the crowds of New York, Chicago, L.A. and D.C., and we think this entire country is just fit to burst apart at the seams.  But there are whole seas of grass and forest that are populated only by an asphalt road and the wildlife that haven’t seen a man in years.  I can hide, I can be away from anyone, simply because America is freaking huge.

I’ve never been here before.   I might have to buy a compass or something…what am I talking about?  I’m either turning and going south for the winter or using the rest of my cash to hunker down in some cabin or other.  I still have no clue.  Do I want to experience homelessness in frost or fire?

The truckers have been here.  Simple, uncomplicated view on life.  “In front’s where I’m going, behind’s where I’ve been, and the beer is in the back.”  I’m not giving a pastoral view of truckers, they also have some pretty ignorant views of…well, everything.  But I think when you look at a person, you’ve got to acknowledge what they are, not despair at what they’re not.

This is way too philosophical for a truck stop.  Comes from a deprivation of a classroom I suppose.  I miss the students.  I miss the teachers.  Not just the actual students and teachers I was with, but the archetypes.  The students, bright-eyed and eager; the teachers, just enjoying their jobs.  I know it’s not always like that, but just being there does inspire.

…maybe I should find a school and lecture.  I’m going to need an ID… 

Hatred is Stupid, Hatred is Here

A presidential election is coming up.  For the first time in American history, we have an African-American incumbent.  We have a Black President.  And he’s losing in the polls.

The American public is about half-Democrat, half-Republican with just enough Independents to make it interesting.  In 2008, Senator Barack Obama became President by a healthy margin, and started to fulfill an agenda that most political pundits would call compromising and moderate.  And he is looking at the very real possibility that he will not serve for a second term.

Why?  Why is President Obama in danger of losing?  I am not saying this merely as a self-proclaimed liberal, but on his record as President of the United States.  Here are some of the highlights from his presidency.

Passed a stimulus bill that helped save big banks, impeded the rise of unemployment, and placed money in the hands of the populace.

Nominated and confirmed Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor, the first Hispanic woman to the highest court in this country.

Signed the most comprehensive Health Care Reform bill in thirty years.  This started the beginnings of a government option for health care, extending the life of Medicare, and requiring private insurance companies to not deny coverage on the basis of a preexisting condition.

Repealed “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”, allowing gays to serve in the military and can be open about their sexual orientation.  Also, the President has gone on record as being for gay marriage.

Ended the war in Iraq, has a solid deadline for pulling out of the war in Afghanistan, and has ordered the death of Osama Bin Laden.

He’s done all of this, while supporting two daughters who have not reached high school, and even quit smoking whilst in office.  He has not been involved in a personal scandal, and has produced every document that the American public has asked for.  So again I ask, what has the President done that has been so terrible that he does not deserve a second term?

There is something not many people want to recognize about this election, something inherent in it.  Many if not all will deny this is a factor in the election, but I believe that it is so.  That factor is racism.  A big word, a harsh word, something that we hoped had been banished from our hearts.  But it is still here, and I believe it is working to stop the President from serving a second term.

I don’t want this to be true, but there are too many inconsistencies.  No white man would have been asked to show his birth certificate to the American people.  No white man would ever be considered Muslim unless he shouted it from the rooftops.  And no white man in the history of this government would be unilaterally denied his entire agenda by the opposition under the banner of preventing him from having a second term.  These are facts that cannot be ignored or described as Republicans and the American people just don’t agree with the President. 

Racism is real, it is here.  We have measures to stop it in the law, but we cannot banish it from our hearts.  Every single person has to consider why they are voting.  If you believe in Mitt Romney and Paul Ryan, vote for them.  If you do not believe in President Obama’s policies, don’t vote for him. 

But if you are voting against President Obama because he is a Muslim, he is not.  If you are voting against President Obama because he is not a citizen of the United States, he is from Hawaii.  And if you are voting against President Obama because he is an African-American, then banish that thought from your mind.  We are a nation where all men are created equal.  Let us prove that today and forever after.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."

-Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr.

Apathy, Thy Name is Youthful

Politics nerd. 

Too intense. 

Lame.

Loser. 

Just get a life.  This is the response nowadays from youth to interest in politics.

If you’ll look to your right, you’ll notice by my picture that I’m not exactly out of the youth spectrum.  But I’ve always prided myself on being abnormal, and my interest in politics, sadly, is no exception to my abnormality.

I watch political talk shows.  I listen to debates.  I have an hour-long commute starting before six in the morning every day.  Do I spend it listening to sports recaps or music?  Nope, NPR.  I’m the extreme end of the political interest spectrum (though I never was elected to anything besides Historian).

I know I’m weird, but I am also bewildered.  I spent four years at college with people who just got the right to vote.  Many people in my graduating class voted in their first election their freshman year, mere months after becoming eligible.  Isn’t that supposed to be fantastic?  I am now a vote.  I matter.  Even if I am one of ten million votes, I am the 9,708,642^nd vote, dammit!  And you’d better make sure it counts.

So why when we get this new right, this right to affect change, do the youth say “whatever”?  I spend way too much time on Facebook, and I see the posts. 

“Why should I choose the lesser of two evils?  They don’t know anything about me.” 

“This guy started talking to me about the upcoming election.  I pointed him to someone who cares.”

“I just made my decision!  On November sixth, I’m going to actually do something productive instead of waste three hours voting!”

Are you kidding me?

I am a part of the most apathetic generation in the history of United States voting.  My friends and classmates don’t care about voting, because it doesn’t matter.  No matter what, everything just stays the same.

And they’re right.  My generation is right.  If they don’t vote, if people my age do not drop the xbox controller and go to the polls, nothing is going to change.  Politicians are never going to care about the rights of our youth.  Why should they, we’re not going to vote against them.  We’re not going to vote, period.

Voting is a right and a weapon.  If even half of 18-30 year olds voted in this country, wouldn’t have alternative energy plans, we’d already have solutions.  Our deficit and debt wouldn’t be so high, and we’d be invested in our education at more than 2% of the federal budget.  Why would all these be realities?  It’s not because politicians will suddenly become more idealist, better people if younger people, quite the opposite.  Politicians pander to those who will show up.  Ask yourself why gutting medicare and social security is so unpopular in Washington.  It’s because seniors vote, and they want their benefits.

We have options in this republic of ours.  Choose not to vote in protest.  Choose not to vote because you believe every single person in American politics is scum, and you won’t support a failed system.  But if you don’t vote because you think that your vote doesn’t matter, it does.  Because you will be a statistic that people look at, and understand as importance.

Maybe someday I can be voter 12,645,027 of the youth population.  Maybe not.  But I want to try.  Do you?

“Decisions are made by those who show up.”

-          C.J. Cregg, Press Secretary

The West Wing

Diary of an Unemployed Wanderer, Part 8

September 30, 2012

I’m squatting in an abandoned building.

I’m stealing internet from the apartment complex next door.

I’m squandering what little power there is in this building for a blog post that probably isn’t being read by anybody.

…that’s a lot of ‘s’ words.  S has this sort of sound that just sounds sinister.  We use the s sound all the time.  And most of the time it gives a sort of evil…sly connotation.  Smack, slither, smoke, it just rolls off the tongue in a sort of onomatopoetic manner.  And now I’m thinking about onomatopoeia.

I’m an English teacher, and I’m in the middle of nowhere, southern style.  My books, god my books, are probably being ignored in some evidence locker.  If there are people interested in finding me since I fled town…well, I’d like to thank you if you’re reading this blog.  You’re quite likely the only people doing so.  All I’m doing right now is writing words.

Writing words.  Again, the sound of ‘w’.  We never think about the sound of our words.  They were invented, something we so commonly forget.  But down the line somebody saw a man scratching out lines in the sand and called it writing, because it sounded correct.  And it did, it does.  As human beings have evolved…not just by millennia, but by years, days, even hours…we have made decisions that create new words, eliminate others.  These are ideas in action, and I am missing it all because I am not in the classroom.

Damn it all, I’m not in the classroom.  I don’t deserve to be, no one deserves to be in the classroom.  I don’t know of anyone that deserves to walk into a room and declare themselves to be an authority on anything other than what they did within the last five minutes.  But teachers are able to circumvent this, and start thinking about not being authority figures, and instead be facilitators of learning.  I wish I was a facilitator of learning.  Right now I’m just a facilitator of internet comments and the story of “guess which homeless guy I met today”.

Teaching is a full-time job, and one of the most rewarding out there.  For those of you who are still reading this, I apologize for disgracing the profession.  Hopefully you can make it better.

Thanks for listening.

Diary of an Unemployed Wanderer, Part 7

September 24, 2012

A day late and a dollar short.

That’s not completely true.  I’ve got dollars, tons of them actually.  I’m more a day late and…well, a house short.  Yesterday kind of sucked.

Couldn’t fly because of rain.  I need to invest in some rainwear, and then just pack myself down in clothing to prevent a chill.  Of course, that would go into my food fund, and that’s already starting to show a ‘healthy’ dip.  One benefit of having an actual house…having an actual stove.  I just spent tonight just trying to get a fire going, the natural way.  Sticks, stones and prayers, that’s all the natural way is.  Stole some gasoline and a match, kicked the natural way’s ass all the way up the column of flame that shot out.

Don’t get me wrong, I love nature.  If I didn’t, wandering around would be terrible.  But I like the trees, and the nice chill that comes in at dark.  I’m so glad when I cut out that I decided to grab all my warm clothes and some undershirts more for just…well, because.  And it’s getting colder, I can definitely feel it.  I now know why birds fly south for the winter.  I knew it was so they don’t freeze their tail-feathers off, but not having the guarantee of a bed, you understand it a lot more.  Especially after last night.

Last night was cold.  And wet.  And thunderstorm-y.  type of thunderstorm where I found myself a cave in the Appalachians a few hundred yards up a sheer cliff face and just hid there.  I wasn’t getting out, and I had no intent to try my luck against fate.  I just sat there and relaxed.  While freezing.  Relaxing and freezing really don’t go hand in hand.

 Storm broke at about ten this morning, and I had had enough.  Packed my wet clothes, pointed my way south and just kept going till I found heat and people.  God do I love heat and people.  Right now I’m at a truck stop (with an internet café…please don’t ask, I’m not entirely sure myself).  I can tell you right now, have fun with nature.  Be out there in the woods, and just let go of restraint.  But hang onto your cell phone and your car keys.

As for me, while last night sucked, I’m betting this week will turn around.  I honestly do think…

A biker gang walked in.  Wonder if I could beat them in a race?

Does Decorum Mean Anything Anymore?

Attack ads.  Smear campaigns.  Snide remarks.  They are so much fun.

Admit it, you love when someone makes the one up remark.  I’m not afraid to say that I love it.  It’s the witty comeback, the retort that comes in at a second’s notice that puts your opponent on his respective ass.  When you are in a conflict, sometimes the best way to play defense, is to play offense.  And that’s how politics are played.

But does a conflict have to be cheap?  I’m from Massachusetts, and was watching the senatorial debate last night.  I am a full blue-blooded liberal and didn’t expect to be swayed away from Elizabeth Warren’s campaign ideas, but I wanted to see a healthy debate.  I wanted to see the good retorts, the fantastic stats that would be used against one another to help prove the points.  I wanted some animation.  What I found was depressing.

Senator Scott Brown had the beginning remarks, and a question: what does he think about his opponent’s character?  Senator Brown first thanked the station and the debate for allowing this opportunity, and then proceeded to demand that Elizabeth Warren release her personnel files on herself.  Apparently, Elizabeth Warren has been marking herself down as a Native American, and been taking advantage of affirmative action in order to get better jobs.  And, in the Senator’s words, “As I can see, you are not a person of color.”

I had my retorts.  I was screaming my retorts, I was absolutely furious.  We’ll give you her personnel files when you give us Romney’s tax returns!  I wanted to shout that to the highest heavens (instead I posted it on the internet).  But no, Elizabeth Warren didn’t use a snappy comeback, nothing to turn the comment on its head.  She calmly replied that her mother was part Cherokee, and it is a heritage she is proud of.  She will not be releasing the files, for the privacy of other individuals that are a part of her life that wish to maintain their privacy.

I thought this was weak at first.  I’m just sitting there watch this woman get called out again and again, four separate instances where Senator Brown demanded to see her files, and just calmly reply no.  And I realized I’m a part of the problem.  I love the drama, I love the fast and loose politics seen on the talk shows.  I wanted that debate to be two degrees removed from a rendition of Fight Club.  What I got instead was a debate.  Candidates who were not going for glamour, but substance.  Repeating themselves not just to have themselves be heard, but to make sure the message was out there.

Do we want decorum in our debates again?  It’s not exciting, it’s not edgy, but it’s policy.  It gets things done and decorum is above all else respectful.  It is going up to your hated enemy across the aisle and saying I hate you and everything you stand for, but we have a country to build so let’s get to work.  Isn’t that how we want our government to be run?

Diary of an Unemployed Wanderer, Part 6

September 16, 2012

I don’t know where I am.

I guess that happens when I’ve been wandering for a week.  And yes, I mean wandering.  No car, no phone, nothing to give an indication besides license plates that I keep passing.  I think I’ve been heading west since I’m always facing the sun at sunset, but other than that, everything I know from wilderness survival could be read in Hatchet.  I am well and truly lost.

It’s actually kind of reassuring, satisfying even.  I’m alone, completely, and yet I’m not too worried about what’s going to happen.  I’ve been passing through a couple orchards, working for a meal here and there…and yes, lifting a few apples when I could get away with it.  I’ve slept in barns, in trees, I’ve even slept in a shelter when the night dropped below freezing.  I’ve changed clothes twice this week, and my showering has been a stream last Thursday.  I should be miserable, but I’m not.  I guess I’m a bit insane, just enjoying the solitude.

I met a farmer this past week, just off the highway.  I hadn’t seen anyone yet that day (been testing out flying, and the trees are the best way to avoid people), so I landed in her wheat field.  Yes, farmers can be women too.  She glanced at me as I walked up to her, and I could tell that she wasn’t expecting to meet anyone today either.

“You lost?”

“Yeah.”

She threw a pair of gloves to me, pointed out a weed and told me to get to work.  I’ve never weeded before, and she smacked me a few times before I started getting the difference between a weed and wheat.  It was dark before we headed into her house…house.  It was a kitchen, a bedroom and an outhouse.  Houses these days have less lawn than brick.  Hers didn’t qualify.

We had dinner together.  She made the bread herself.  Who does that?

Right now I’m typing this out on her laptop computer (no bathroom, but wifi…America).  There’s a bundle of blankets on an air mattress, and I’m getting a pillow that’s probably older than me.  Last month I was set for making fifty thousand this year.  I had my own car, my own house, and now I have two changes of clothes.  So why am I happier now then I was back then?

I’ve lost everything, and that is truly liberating.  I don’t need to worry about what my reputation is.  I don’t have one anymore.  I don’t have a job, so no need to get up in the morning.  And above all that, I’ve got nothing to tie me down.  If anyone ever finds out about my flying, I’m gone.  I’ll be across state lines before the cops or men in black can ever find me.  I’m well and truly free.

Yay.

You get what you need?

            Every single person will fail.

Spectacularly.  Unequivocally, in a manner that will redefine the word failure.  That is one of mankind’s greatest achievements.  No matter what, our failures will be our own.

I’ve just graduated college.  I’m looking out onto the world with the hopes of continuing my writing in a manner of ways.  Hopefully professionally, and even more hopefully widely read/experienced/enjoyed.  And of course I’m hoping to lead a full life.  I want to backpack through the Appalachian trail, maybe even on horseback.  I want to see my Steelers win a seventh Super Bowl (hopefully in person on the fifty yard-line, but I’ll settle for an endzone seat).  Heck, I maybe even want to get married and have kids.

But weirdly enough, I also want to experience the sorrows of this world just as much.  I want to get my heart broken, if only to know that it was given to someone else.  I want to feel the loss that others feel, so I can be there for them.  And most importantly, I do in fact want to fail.  As myself, on my own terms, I want to fail.

I want my writing to be labeled in as many four-letter words as are onomatopoetically possible.  I want my first five chances at a relationship spin widely out of control to the point where both of us are running out the door.  I even want to get pelted with rotten fruit once or twice (hasn’t been rotten yet, but I’m working on it).

The reason I want these things is so I can grow.  I am looking out on a blank slate that is my future, and I know that only I can truly and irrevocably screw it up.  But it is also only me that can make it a life for the ages.  Maybe my writing isn’t as widely reviewed as I want it to be, but it could start having an effect on people’s lives.  Thirty years after I’m dead, maybe someone will pull up this site and think ‘who is this guy, and why does he sound like my life?’  that would probably be the coolest thing ever, and I’d roll over in my grave and shout ‘repeat that again, I wasn’t paying attention.’

Live, laugh, love.  For me, writing is a part of that, and failure is all four.  Experience the highs of this life, people, and laugh at your woes.  If nothing else, they are truly yours.  If only because no one else wants them.

Stay strange, folks

“You can’t always get what you want…but if you try sometimes, you find, you get what you need.”

-          Mick Jagger, modern day philosopher

Diary of an Unemployed Wanderer, part 5

September 9, 2012

I’m not in jail.

I’m not at home, but I’m not in jail.  It’s a weird series of emotions that I’m in right now.  On the one hand, I’m torn from…everything.  I am gone from my house, the people I knew, the food that I felt so familiar with.  In that sense I’m bereft.  But at the same time, I’m actually accepting some of it.  I’m not in jail awaiting a trial I know I’d surely lose.  I’m not being hounded by a mob of reporters anymore, with my face plastered on the six o’clock news.  Best of all, I’m alive.  And I wasn’t so sure of that last week.

I did try to rob that bank.  I thought I had it all planned out.  During the day, it’s amazing how many people go up on a roof to smoke.  They don’t look around the roof, they don’t try to spot anything unusual, just need a dose of nicotine, and then it’s a piece of gum and leave.  I just had to make sure the door didn’t close, and put some tape on the lock.  Went back, all dressed in black, and ready to make some money.  Or steal it, I don’t know what the phrase is…

Anyway, I’m getting ready, all set up to walk in, when I hear this screeching noise.  It’s tires, and I turn around to see this minivan start screaming down the street.  I know, my first thought was that I finally saw a minivan go over 55, but it’s…it’s…it wasn’t right.  The van was fishtailing, driving all over the place, and oh, my, God…someone’s driving a minivan wasted.  Again, another first for me.

I step to the edge of the roof, hoping to get a good look, and I see this father just slamming down a bottle of liquor.  I mean, all windows are down, I’m pretty sure if I were on the street I could smell the Russian oozing out of him.  And that’s fine by me.  you know, whatever man, you want to get drunk and drive, just don’t do it around my house.  Or what used to be my house.  I’ll read about you in the arrest reports later.

He starts going past me as I’m turning and all of a sudden I hear another scream.  Another quick look, and he’s got, you know, a child in there.  Backseat, and the only smart thing this bastard has done was put his little toddler in a kid seat and strapped her in.  and he’s getting faster.

I’m not a superhero, so get that out of your mind.  I’m not planning on donning tights and a cape and zooming around the night sky stopping robberies.  That’s a great way for me to get shot.  And I was about to commit a robbery so I could, you know, sympathize.  But there’s some innate human-ness…thing, that won’t just let a child get hurt.  There’s something about the scream of a child that turns a bastard into a saint.  I jump off the roof and I’m soaring after that minivan.  Slide up alongside the car, undo the child safety belt, and grab her right out of the car.  The guy was so drunk he didn’t even see me.

I walked her over to the nearest police station, and gave the plates.  Best thing I did was tell them if he got shot, he was probably so drunk he’d laugh.  I hope he finds some nice people in prison.

And then I robbed the bank.  Took about fifty thousand dollars, and just left.  I have a couple days’ worth of clothes and the money in a duffel bag.  I’m at an internet café, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.

Do those actions cancel each other out?  I mean, it’s a big bank, they have insurance, they’ll be covered, right?  On the other hand, what did that little kid have?  The hope that plastic would hold up to a crash at sixty miles an hour plus.  I think the balance there is a little in my favor.

I’m going to walk around for awhile.  Maybe find the odd job, maybe just try and get my head straight on what happened last month.  All I know is, I’m different.  And that’s okay.

Cooperation isn't Surrender

“I have learned two things from politics…nobody is right all the time, and a broken clock is right twice a day.”  Bill Clinton at the Democratic National Convention spelled out the foundation for politics, and the reason it is so fractured right now.  As the Presidential Election comes closer and closer, I am struck more and more by the politics of hate.

I go on tirades, and I say terrible things.  I look at political pundits who I believe in my heart are lying through their teeth, and the first words out of my mouth are “You’re not allowed to do that.”  but again and again I find ladies and gentlemen from either parties say things that are untrue, can easily be checked, and yet continue to hold the lie up as if it were truth.

Right now there is an ad from the Romney campaign condemning President Obama’s Welfare plans, saying that the President is trying to get rid of the work requirement.  When the ad was proven to be false by independent organizations, the campaign was asked to remove the ad.  From one of the political movers in the Romney campaign, “We’re not going to have our campaign defined by fact-checkers.”  Defined by fact-checkers?  They are proven to be lying on national television.

This comes once again to the theory of cooperation.  The filibuster has been used in the 110^th senate more than any congress in history, because legislation is not the most important goal for politics right now.  It is deciding whether or not President Obama will be a one-term president.

I love President Obama, and I think he has done a fantastic job.  Please disagree with me, and I will happily debate the issues with you (it may get heated, but all’s fun in politics and good humor).  But the goal of any party cannot be the destruction of another’s candidacy.  It is to uphold the values of your constituency, to promote the progression of America, and defend the ideals you hold within your heart.

Cooperation has been taught to every individual in this country since the second grade.  Ever since your teacher plucked the fingerpaints out of your hands as you squabbled with your classmate, the first words out of her mouth were “Share”.  We all have ideas about this country, how to better it, how to protect it, how to make this country a beacon for the world stage.  But most importantly, we all live in this country.  Let us all share it, not scream out when our turn has been taken away.

“Our best thoughts come from others”

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Diary of an Unemployed Wanderer, Part 4

September 2, 2012

I’ve got to make this quick…

You wouldn’t believe how easy breaking into a bank is.  I’m doing it tonight, and everything is planned out perfectly.  I think.

I know what you’re thinking, and I wish there were any other way.  I spent the past week begging for jobs, begging for unemployment, even begging on the street.  By the way, quick note, I should apologize to any and all beggars I have snubbed.  Except for the ones I knew were going to do drugs.  That sounds like a good promise.  Anyways, last week kind of really sucked.  I was kicked twice while begging, and thrown out of an interview while the receptionist screamed pervert at me.

I’m almost out of cash, and I’ve already gotten out of my apartment.  This is from an internet café.  I don’t even know why I’m keeping up this stupid journal.  What has it gotten me?  Absolutely nothing.  But I’m here, and I’m writing, and I’m confessing to a crime in the middle of an internet café…I need to turn my life around.

I’ll start with cash.  To any cops, this WILL NOT BE A BANK ROBBERY!  I DO NOT CONDONE THIEVERY ON ANY LEVEL, IT IS WRONG AND EVIL AND…not nice.  This is so full of b.s. I don’t even believe it.  And I’m writing it.

Whatever, the point is, tonight is the night.  You’d be amazed as to how many security systems don’t take flying as a security risk.  Actually, that kind of makes sense, but that means kudos to me for being the first to test it out.  I’m just going in and out.  Nothing bad is going to happen.

Trust me.

5 Questions, Your Answers

There are questions every day.  Some are simple, such as “Is it a right or left turn to get to school?”  Others, not so much.  “What’s better for me, a movie ticket to see the Avengers or the perfect Reuben?”  Difficult choices, as you can easily see.

I think about the tougher questions, and try to puzzle them out.  The usual reason why is I have too much free time on my car rides home and everything random usually filters into my head, but there are other reasons.  I question what is right for me, my school, even the country.  So I’ve got five questions here that I’ve been puzzling over, and hopefully have answered to a degree.

1.    “Do you trust people enough to give them more freedom?”

This one’s a toughie for me.  As I’ve said, I’m an unabashed liberal all the way.  I believe that individuals have to choose for themselves what’s right for them, and given enough time and guidance, human beings will generally make the right choice.  I believe it, but I doubt this more in practice on a grander scale.  When human beings are separated from each other, until the point where we don’t even recognize what we are paying money for (i.e., taxes), we are generally mistrusting of where our money goes.  Instead of putting money towards the common good, we invest in ourselves, putting our funds in bank accounts instead of public projects.  So in answer, I believe in this person, but I think we don’t need more freedom from taxes.

2.    “Entertain or Educate our Youth, can we do it at the same time?”

I find this question easy.  After four years of high school, four years of college, and now being back in the classroom as a teacher, I can definitely affirm that we can do both.  Are there areas of learning that can seem boring?  Yes, and they need to be taught.  But overall the goal of teaching should be making the connections between education and entertainment to the student.  If a student is enjoying their work, then the achievement is all the more precious for them.  It may have been difficult, but education must always be relatable and intriguing for students to be engaged.

3.    “Is there a God?”

Yes.  Next question?

I come from a line of faith.  Christianity is all I’ve ever known, and after all my time and (continuing) adolescence, I still believe in Christ, God and the power of faith.  And it is against reason.  Faith is supposed to be against reason.  If it could be quantified, if humans could convince each other of its validity, then religion is not a belief, but an argument and point of persuasion.  Faith combines the surety of reason with the fluidity of the heart and soul.  Believe, don’t know, that there is a God.

4.    “What are you willing to give up for others?”

Ouch.  Um…maybe my room, if I could get a bed elsewhere?  I don’t want to give up my house, I don’t want to give up my stuff.  Is that what I will need to do to help others?  I will easily give up my time to help others, as well as anything I can personally do.  But I recognize that I have possessions, that I have come from a place of wealth.  I may not have been born with a silver spoon in my mouth, but I certainly have never had to suffer the way others have.  I don’t know how to deal with this, and what I would have to give up to help others in a meaningful way, or even what my line is.  What won’t I do?  What will I do?  That’s still a question for me.

5.    “Who would win in a fight, Batman or Superman?”

Batman, hands down.  He rocks; more intelligent, better costume, more money, better villains, ruthlessly pragmatic, and the Nolan movies have kicked serious butt.  Superman…I like reading about him most when it’s proven that he can be beaten.  Sorry Superfans, but Batman would take this one no sweat.

So that’s my thoughts on some serious (And not so much) questions.  Your response?

Diary of an Unemployed Wanderer, Part 3

August 26, 2012

Dear Journal,

School starts tomorrow.  Kids are going to be in school, in my…in the classroom, and I won’t be there.  I guess it’s just hitting me now that I am unemployed, that my career as a teacher just isn’t happening.

The week has been…okay.  That stupid article from last week was only a distraction.  Went to my hearing, Manny was really just understanding about everything.  He helped me with the charges, and as you can see, I’m out of jail.  My account is five thousand dollars lighter thanks to a fine, but I’m out of jail.  And out of work.

I walked out of the courtroom, and who was there, but Kelly.  God, Kelly.  I hate her so much because she is right about so many things.  I know I’ve been, well, hating her for the last few weeks, but the look on her face just floored me.  She was there, she was at the court, to see me.

I said hey, we sort of stumbled our way through how everything was going, and I suggested a lunch to celebrate me not being in handcuffs.  She agreed, and we started to talk.

Maybe this will make more sense if I describe Kelly.  Kelly Bentz was my old boss, and became the first woman to become principal at the high school, at the age of forty-two.  No, there is absolutely nothing sexual there.  She’s forty-two, I’m twenty-eight.  She’s just fantastic, a brilliant mind and a heart that’s only for the kids.  Which is why she’s not giving me my job back.

I tried to explain, and realized I couldn’t.  I was out cold for hours, missed everything, and I couldn’t even give a reason.  For all she knew I was getting high or drunk or even gambling away my livelihood.  She was a bit more comforting than I expected, was even willing to help me compile my resume, but the message was clear.  I’m not going to be in school.

After that, the meeting became awkward.  I just wanted out, she wanted to be gone, but neither of us wanted to be rude.  When the waitress came by with the check, Kelly offered to pay, and I had to leave.  I was abrupt, but I didn’t want her to think I was helpless.  So I just flew away.

No, she didn’t see me.  That’s probably the only thing that I’ve been careful about the past couple weeks.  But I don’t want anyone to see me, take a video, and suddenly I’m the freak on Youtube with federal agents knocking on my door.  So I take off from the woods, or from skyscraper roofs, and I just go.

It’s a feeling, to fly.  It starts straight in the legs, the feeling of the wind between my ankles, and it just keeps going.  Suddenly I feel like I’m being wrapped up in a shell of air, whipping me around yet still in full control.  I can feel the nothingness of air, and yet nothingness is so powerful.

I’m actually writing this on top of the school roof.  The school isn’t tall, only three stories, and this is probably a very stupid idea.  But until tomorrow, until the new year officially starts, I can still trick myself.  I can pretend that I’m just grabbing a bite, taking in the view from my school.  I’m delusional, and I know it’s a dream.  Once those kids walk in and sit down in their seats, I know it’s lost.  The man at the board won’t be me, they won’t be reading Shakespeare from me.  I’m unemployed.

I’ve been out of work for two weeks now.  And though I haven’t been jailed ever, I now have solicitation on my record.  No one is going to hire me.  I’m going to end up homeless unless I do something drastic.

I’m thinking about robbing a bank or something…

Enjoy Partisanship, Enjoy Being Different

I spend a lot of time thinking about politics.  It’s an election year, and people are taking sides, dividing the country up into different little groups they can easily identify.  In the next couple of weeks you’ll soon be identified as a Democrat or Republican, pro-life or choice, everything will be a decision on who best suits your individual values.  What a great system.

I love politics, and I adore partisanship.  It’s completely corny, but this country is built upon the right to disagree.  We each have individual ideas on how to improve society, whether it’s a need for more funding for the arts, or education, or even defense.  And these ideas need to be fleshed out, expounded upon, and then they must be debated.  We can have real debates from idealists, from realists and cynics, in the attempt to discover the facts and how our decisions could impact the future.  We can have a confluence of ideas, simply by being informed, opinioned and vocal about both.

One of the most overlooked aspects of partisanship, however, is informed.  In the information age, where we could easily get specifics, track plans and implement ideas through the internet, our candidates refuse to give accurate and complete information.  Campaigns are being boiled down to “I will create twelve million new jobs in my first year,” or “My opponent’s plan will actually add trillions to the deficit.”  These are mind-boggling statistics, and yet I have no idea where they come from.  If this candidate is elected, what will he do?  He’ll fix the economy, but how?  And is this the right thing to do?  If it turns out to be a disastrous plan, how will we know?  I’m speaking in generic terms myself because I don’t have any data from these campaigns, and I want information.  I want to know what programs will be cut to help pay for others. 

For a hypothetical instance, cutting defense funding in deference to education is a difficult pill to swallow.  But not paying for missile defense programs that are proven to be ineffective and extremely costly could save millions each year, which could hire new teachers, or put more computers in public schools, or possibly even fund some national art projects.  And maybe my stance of for education is completely wrong, that this hypothetical missile defense system is just a short step away from becoming the backbone of a defense program, but I want to know how I’m wrong and why it is important.  Information breeds opinions based on facts, not mere speculation.

We all have difficult decisions to make this coming election.  My advice is simple: research.  Research the candidate, what he says his plans are and his track record.  Research what these plans could possibly mean for the country, and whether or not you agree with them.  And most importantly, research yourself.  What do you believe in?  Odds are you won’t be simply defined as Republican or Democrat.  There are dozens of issues to consider, and only you know what you stand for and how important this stance is to you.

After that, it’s simple.  Pull the lever, cast your vote, and enjoy being yourself.

Rape is Rape is Rape, Guys. Stop telling Women what to do!

I broke my trend already.  I'm sorry, but I felt I had to.

This year is turning towards the bizarre.  Campaigns seem to have focuses.  In 2004 it was the two wars we were in.  During the 2008 it was how do we get ourselves out of this mess we seem to be in.  This campaign, there seems to have been a bit of focus on women and their…womanhood lately.  Last week, I wrote about the personhood laws that have been circulating the media, having been defeated in both Colorado and Mississippi.  I thought the ideas of personhood were beliefs held by some Americans, and that they had the right to do so.  Unfortunately, the issue has spun out of control.

In case you haven’t heard, Representative Todd Akin lately talked about the difference between rape and “legitimate” rape.  According to Todd Akin’s science, it is biologically impossible for rape victims to get pregnant.  Their bodies simply will not allow them.  Therefore, rape ‘victims’ who are pregnant are biologically proven to not have been raped!

This piece of science fiction, I wish I could say I was surprised about it.  Sadly, I am not.  For the past couple of months, I have been aware of a large number of Americans that seem to think they know more about women and their bodies than the women do.  And no, I am not talking about Republicans.  I am speaking about men.

Yes, I’m a guy.  Looking at my picture to the right of this blog kind of reveals this fact, but it is a fact.  But seeing the horrors unfold around these issues makes me want to ignore my gender, to cry out against the stupidity that my sex has done.

The Todd Akin is just the latest in a long line of men ‘being men’ about women’s issues.  Sandra Fluke, having the courage to talk about what birth control has done for her friends in Georgetown?  Rush Limbaugh congratulated her with the title of slut and prostitute.  During the nomination of Sonia Sotomayor to the Supreme Court, many men joked she shouldn’t be given decisions while menstruating, she could get emotional!  And of course, who could forget both sides’ use of the male favorite about the top two women in the previous Presidential campaign?  “If you put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig.”

Abortion is a serious issue.  I can’t talk about it, because I have absolutely no ideas what it entails, and what are the ramifications, either ethically, philosophically or spiritually.  But I can speak to the men about this issue, and I hope that we can all take this to heart.

Do not claim that you know more about women’s bodies than they do.

Do not legislate on women’s bodies until we let them legislate ours.

Most importantly, men, do not consider yourselves better than women.

This is still an issue.  We think of ourselves as the protectors, the bread-winners, the go-getters.  The man is king, master and commander of his fate and household.  But women are overtaking college admissions.  Women are working just as hard as men.  And yes, women know their own bodies as much as men know their own.  Maybe even more, considering all the media that’s been done about the female body lately.  Time to allow them to make their own decisions.

Women, I apologize for men.  I know you’ve been apologizing for us long enough.  Give guys a chance, and maybe even forgive our nutjobs.  Just get them out of office.

Diary of an Unemployed Wanderer, part 2

August 19, 2012

Dear Journal,

Something strange is going on.  I haven’t been able to write for a week, and that in and of itself…you know…bothers me.  I mean, I have superpowers, and yet I can’t even write once a day?  Why can’t I keep up with a diary…I mean, journal?

I think the reason is because I’ve been experimenting.  I know I said last week I have superpowers (AND I DO!) but I haven’t been able to figure out everything they do.  So I’ve been trying to teleport (ended up falling off the bed), put my back into super strength (and I haven’t been able to get my back, well, back)…I even attempted to use x-ray vision (and that girl really didn’t understand…by the way, I have a court date on Tuesday).  So what kind of superpowers do I have?

Oh, right, maybe I should introduce myself.  Gary Plummer, high school English teacher…former, I should say.  And no, I haven’t been able to find work as of yet, but here’s hoping!  I officially have flight under my list of skills on my updated resume, and I think that’s going to be a deal-breaker.  I mean, come on, look at candidates.  One applicant has a degree from Harvard?  Big whoop, there’s new Harvard Graduates each year, and they don’t seem to be stopping.  I can freaking fly.  Top that, Crimson boy.  Yes, Kelly Bentz went to Harvard.

Kelly Bentz, AKA my boss, excuse me, former boss.  She made sure I wasn’t going to be working there anytime soon.  I’m sorry I missed the meeting, but I was in the middle of getting exposed to radiation!  Or something else, I don’t know…it was glowing.  But you know all that.  And for how much I hate her, and yes I totally do, Kelly did kind of help me figure out I now have superpowers.  How?  Well…it involves drinking.  A lot of drinking.  How much is a lot?  Here’s the article.

Ex-Teacher Taught a Lesson

Gary Plummer, former teacher at Fresdale high school, is facing a $500 fine for soliciting a bouncer at a local bar.  Manny Trempkin, the bouncer, apparently was asked if he wanted to go back to Mr. Plummer’s place to talk about a tree.  “In his words, it was glowing,” said Trempkin.  “I could already tell he’d had a few too many to drink, so I just called him a cab.”

Plummer, having been fired for showing up four hours late to mandatory orientations for teachers, has been showing a remarkable lack of decorum for someone charged with the responsibility of education.  “I think it’s sick,” said a concerned parent who wished to remain anonymous.  “You show up late to school, get fired, and then go solicit a man? If you ask me he should’ve been shot.”  Again, this parent asks to remain anonymous.

Gary Plummer has been contacted several times the past two days since his firing, but has declined to respond to inquiries to the reasons behind his firing, solicitation, and disappearance.

Disappearance…I was in the stratosphere!  Well…maybe not the stratosphere.  I think I need to go over the spheres again, since I’m spending so much time up there.  I do remember I was in the clouds.  Before you ask, I did solicit Manny.  Moral of the story: don’t mix vodka with tequila, rum, scotch and everclear.  Bad things will happen.  After I asked him back to my place, Manny did probably the best thing for either of us.  He threw me out of the bar.  Yes, literally threw me, out the side alley, and so hard I hit my head on the dumpster, thank God.  I started to get woozy, and the next thing I know, I’m hanging out in the clouds with a flock of geese screaming at me!  Geese!

Was I flying?  Yes.  I could do anything I wanted up there.  Soar, zoom, dive and twirl to my heart’s content.  All I had to do was picture it, and I could do it.  I never have to pay for travel fare again, or even my car!  My transportation is basically assured.

On the other hand, I’m still fired.  And as much as I love adding flying to the resume…what can I do with it?  Fight crime…I don’t think I’m going to look that good in tights.  Steal?  Don’t be ridiculous.  Get a new job…I don’t think that defying gravity is on the list of possible job qualifications.  What am I going to do?

This is the first time I’ve been back to my house since I last posted.  It’s gotten too hectic, and I don’t blame anyone.  The public think I’m a drunk, a deviant, and I used to be teaching their kids, I’d want to shoot me!  But I need to think right now.

Who needs a flyer?