I just got back from taking the kids trick or treating. It was a cool Oklahoma night, a pleasant evening, and the kids loved getting their loot. Patrick was a most enthusiastic vampire and Aubree was quite cute as a friendly ghost. I've inspected their candy and turned them loose to munch away. The sugar levels at this house will be at an all time high for the next few days. They've negotiated their exchanges....Aubree trades most of her chocolate for Patrick's sour candies.

We went downtown where several city blocks in the business district were roped off and businesses passed out treats. This little slice of small town Americana saw hundreds of kids getting candy while the crowd danced in the street to "Sweet Home Alabama" and "Rockin in the Free World." We dropped by the fall festival at the local church. Then I followed them while they walked my old neighborhood, knocking on the same doors I knocked on as a child. Patrick wore out after awhile. He sat in the car with me as I followed Aubree, my niece, and her friend. He leaned back, relaxed, and said, "Dad, I'm done for the night. I'll just sit here and do trick or tricking." I noticed that not nearly as many houses pass out treats as when I was kid. When I knocked on those doors as a child, the people who answered them knew me by name or at least by sight.

When I was their age it was all about the candy. I was never terribly consumed about having the right costume. I just wanted that big bag of candy. I knew the lady in the neighborhood who gave out candy apples and popcorn balls. That was a house you hit early in the evening, because once it was gone, she turned off her lights and retired for the evening. I loved those popcorn balls. We roamed my neighborhood, up and down the streets, trying not to miss any house. By the time I was Aubree's age (10), my parents didn't go with us anymore. We just roamed freely on those autumn nights, reveling in the idea that you could actually get candy just by knocking on doors.

When I was a little bit older, we combined mischief along with the trick-or-treating. We'd make water balloons and assault the unsuspecting neighbor kids. I'm pretty sure that an egg or two found its way into our hands. That grumpy lady down the street who put a sign on her door on Halloween that said, "Don't take candy from strangers"? Somehow eggs ended up on her house. We sprayed each other with shaving cream. In between our mischievous deeds we found time to get our sack of candy.

Then of course, there came a time when we were too old to trick-or-treat. The year before the adults gave us a fishy eye when we showed up at their doorstep, towering over the little kids who competed with us for that candy. It was also starting to have a slightly uncool feeling. Who wants to wear a Superman costume when you are battling zits and trying to impress girls?

One Halloween evening I picked up a few of my friends and went for a drive in my pickup. Someone brought a bag of very ripe persimmons. A few cans of shaving cream were strewn about the old truck along with a few cartons of eggs. We were gonna go out there and have a wild evening! We drove my truck up and down the streets of the small town where I attended high school. Other teenage revelers pelted my poor truck with eggs or shaving cream. We fired back. The town was a silly teenage war zone that evening. We pulled the truck to a stop when we saw a couple of guys that had messed with us early in the evening. I jumped out and fired an egg at the fleeing boy. It missed him but landed perfectly on the windshield of a parked car. Uh oh...time to get outta there.

We drove to a local car wash where I used the hot stream of water to wash the debris off of my truck. I got it all off and still had some time on the clock and I switched the water off. My friend came around the corner, both hands full of shaving cream, a big grin on his face. He ran toward me, I took one step, flipped the switch to turn the water back on, and sprayed the cream all over him, drenching him in the process. So sweet! He was telling that story twenty years later.

Halloween is an interesting holiday, isn't it? It is tied to ancient traditions, but has evolved in the modern world as something unique. We dress up to be something or someone else and engage in silly revelry. I enjoy seeing the autumn colors, the leaves blowing across a quiet street, children running excitedly from door to door, and a sense of openess and community that you don't see very many other times in the year. When else can you feel safe to knock on a stranger's door and be greeted with a smile and a treat?

Happy Halloween everyone!
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It may not seem like a grand statement, but I'm feeling almost normal. Normal? So what? When I compare where I am today to where I was a year ago I can tell such a huge difference. I'm starting to feel more like me. You know what? Thats a really good feeling. I'm caring about the things I've always cared about, enjoying the things I've always enjoyed, and casting an eye to the future. I like the feeling.

There is something to be said for being who you are. This doesn't mean my world is hunky dory or that I'm walking around giddy. Its not and I'm far from that. I have significant challenges ahead of me to face and some really huge issues to work through. Whats different is that I feel capable of facing them. I look at my kids and think to myself, "you can do this. You can raise these children into adulthood, by yourself if that is how it works out." I look at my career challenges and think, "you can handle this, big guy. This and a whole lot more." I look to opportunities to further my writing and think, "maybe, just maybe you've got it in you." I think about relationships and think, "I've got another one in me. I can be loved for who I am and feel the same about someone else. " None of it will be easy and I may stagger along the way. But I've got the tools I was born with, life experiences, and a good education to carry me through the hard times. I had them a year ago, but felt paralyzed and defeated. Existence and survival aren't good enough. Making it through the day isn't enough anymore. Living in the past doesn't work for me now. I'm moving on with my life. Such a trite expression. I never really understood what it meant until now.

Let me give some examples. I've been a football fan for my entire life. Last year I really could've cared less. I watched very few games, and when I did watch it wasn't the same. When my favorite teams lost I just yawned. It didn't matter. Nothing much mattered when I was so absorbed in myself. Now? I'm enjoying the games again. I feel the passion I always enjoyed when watching high level athletic competition. That is normal for me.

I did things with the kids, because even through the fog I knew it was important. I went through the motions at Halloween, buying costumes, taking the kids trick or treating. I wanted them to enjoy it but I couldn't find any enjoyment myself. This year? We've had a blast searching for the right costumes. We sat on the front porch carving a really cool pumpkin. I can't WAIT until we go trick or treating. I want to see the costumes and I want to enjoy this childhood experience with the kids. That is normal.

I'm taking on more challenges in my professional life with gusto. I'm loving that. I savor the feeling of getting up in the morning, knowing I have a big day ahead of me, and knowing that there are things that will happen that I can't anticipate. I enjoy the feeling that my experience has prepared me for this and a whole lot more. This is much more me than I've been in a long time. My professional future is incredibly bright and I can't wait to make it happen. That is normal for me.

I'm taking more chances in my romantic life. Affairs of the heart always carry a measure of risk. I'm strong enough to take a setback if that is what happens. I'm optimistic enough to think about a future that involves someone in my life. Come what may, I feel like I'm ready to face it. If getting dumped again is the worst thing that ever happens to me then I guess I can count myself lucky. That is normal for me.

The holiday season is approaching and I'm actually looking forward to it. I'm not thinking about how to survive it. I'm thinking about how to enjoy it and make memories for myself and those I love. Last year at Thanksgiving I slept the entire afternoon away in my parent's chair. Part of that was fatigue, but part of it was just not wanting to face people and interact with them. Christmas? I made sure it was good for the kids but I hated the feelings that surged through me. Not this time baby. We're going to celebrate these holidays and celebrate them with enthusiasm. That is soooo normal for me.

Feeling normal feels so damned good. Hey world? Its Brian and he's back. He doesn't have it all figured out and maybe he never will. He is facing challenges instead of ignoring them. He's not always looking for the safe way or the road with the least risk. He wants to live. He doesn't know what his destiny is, but he's ready to face it. He is rediscovering old passions and finding new ones. He knows that this life is too short to do anything else. His time is now. That is normal for him.

Feeling normal doesn't mean that I won't feel down, won't get discouraged, or won't hit walls that fail to move for me. But it does feel like I'm me again, with a full toolbox to confront whatever comes ahead. My hands are on my destiny and I'm not looking back.

I feel normal. Anyone got a high five for that? *SLAP*
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Its Halloween weekend. Boooo!!! Scared? Nah, I didn't think so. Before you go trick or treating, pass out candy to munchkins, or getting into trouble, I thought you might like to peruse the scary excellent posts I came across in my blog travels this week.

Irina was sleepwalking through her day. Colleen was trying to sleep but had bad dreams.

Aka Monty got to compare her school behavior to that of her daughter. Joan got to show off some of her wedding pictures.

Annabel Lee doesn’t like the U.N. Breazy doesn’t like getting undeserved tickets.

Margaret enjoyed her parent conference night. Trucker Bob enjoys sharing some of nature’s beauty.

Bec was looking for a miracle. Walker was looking at travel plan options.

SonSon wants to know if it is ok to read a kid’s diary. Simply Satisfied wants to take a bite of Eve’s apple.

T. Marie was pondering Wilma’s destruction. Bsoholic was pondering his new work duties.

Joe is happier than he’s ever been. Amanda was quizzier than I’ve ever seen her!

Fly Girl thinks about a lot of things….sometimes. Mind of Me thinks about his alcoholism.

Veronica will miss her friend. Cheryl remembers a friend who was right about stretching.

Andie celebrates her third blogiversary. Sleeping Mommy celebrates her son’s first birthday!

Keb reports on her defensive driving class. Lime reports on her RIF book distribution.

Jack is feeling a little beat up. Lisa felt like writing about sex.

Mary Lou shares her little house of horrors. Mona shares her thoughts on mantras.

Karen actually enjoyed her visit to the dentist. Lu enjoyed her time in the great outdoors.

Pat tells us how her blog got its name. Seshat tells us about and shows us a cute little girl.

Sarah shares an intriguing soundtrack playlist. Melanie shares the two new guys in her life.

Is it really a marriage if you don’t live together? Check out Chicky Babe’s thoughts. Is rock n roll dead? Not if you ask Trusty Getto.

Buffi remembers a scary night. Stationery Queen remembers some Halloweens past.

Thomai reminds us that the majority is sometimes wrong. Mercy reminds us of the difficulty with stepchildren after a divorce.

Steel Cowboy went to a Halloween parade. Babs went a little panicky when her son brought a mouse into the house!

Ellen had lunch with an old friend. Monica made up with a friend of hers.

Teresa comments on the day’s headlines. Roselle comments on the legacy of Rosa Parks.

Jules translates pre school lingo for the rest of us. Robin shows us what a week of blogging can do to your desk.

Anne called her little brother. Stacey took a friend to the hospital.

Pearl shares some ideas for Halloween costumes. Leslie shares some tips about genealogy research.

The Funky Cowboy reports on how his diet is going. Asp reports on putting her bra on backwards.

Hillbilly Mom remembers a trip to Ketchikan. Jac remembers a swimming test and shares the beauty that came from it.

Ginger and her new TV boyfriend are happy together. Kathy is happy about wishes coming true.

Vickie shares some information about the history of Halloween. Phoenix shares a photographic walk down memory lane!

Feisty Girl wasn’t terribly pleased with her mother. Dawn was pleased to be able to sleep.

Laine got a hickey. Trick got to meet a fellow blogger.

Lil Bit does some female bashing. Susan does some reflective blogging from work.

M_D talks about family holidays. Tish talks about the remodeling going on at her place.

E was up at 4:30 a.m. The Real Me was waxing poetic about eyes.

Stephanie was wondering a few things. New Wave Gurly was wondering where her year has gone.

Restless Angel heard a funny line this week. Redneck Diva had to deal with mean people.

Poopie shares her philosophy on life. Boo shares a picture of her destroyed mailbox.

Have a fantastic weekend my friends. Boooo!!! Still didn't work did it? Ah well.
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I have written here often about the friendships I've made, the relationships I've built, and all I've learned from the blogging community. All that is so very true. I have come to appreciate and know such a diverse group of people and been lucky enough to count a great many of them as friends of mine. We share so much of ourselves out here and it is amazing to me the bonds that can be created.

But there is a flip side to everything, isn't there? I've successfully avoided "blog feuds" for the past two years, and if I have my way I will continue to do so. I don't thrive on drama, don't need it, and have no desire to engage anyone in a war of words. But I've seen people I respect devote energy and time to what I think of as senseless feuds. Its really a simple concept. I tell kids at school almost every day, "Don't like that person? Then don't go around them. Don't talk to them. Leave them alone. If you continue to perpetuate the argument, you are the problem. It doesn't matter who is right or who is wrong. Stay away!" I try to take my own advice to heart. If your blog offends me in some way I just don't read it. I don't offend very easily, so this situation hardly ever comes up.

I have real life issues that can cause me stress, take my time and attention, and make me need a good stiff drink. I don't come here for those things. I blog because I like to write, because I feel a need to express myself, and because I enjoy the interaction and sense of community that I've found. We write about and discuss difficult issues but I've always viewed this community as being a support network. Lets say that someone writes about cheating on their spouse. I think its perfectly reasonable to comment that you think cheating isn't a great idea for a variety of reasons. I don't think its appropriate to engage in name calling or petty insults. We don't have to be cheerleaders but neither do we have to be catcallers. If I write something here that someone disagrees with, I would encourage them to make that known in a comment. Explain their reasoning, educate me, allow me to see it in a different light. Thats what its all about. Gratuitous insults? Count me out.

There is also a gossipy side to the blog community that gets under my skin. Sometimes it feels like junior high school. I'd like to say that I possess angelic innocence in this area, but that wouldn't be the truth. I do try to catch myself if I find a conversation going in that direction. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Some of it is natural and harmless, but I've seen it in a petty and destructive way that only serves to harm people. Is that what any of us really want?

It may be the "online world", but the relationships, friendships, alliances, jealousies, and rivalries can mirror their real world counterparts. I'm not advocating for bunches of warm fuzzies where we sit around and sing a virtual "Kumbaya" all the time. I guess I'm advocating for civility, restraint, and a respect for the huge diversity of opinions and ideas based on the vastly different lives that so many of us lead. I've seen some superb bloggers just give it up rather than be mired in an unpleasant war of words. That is a shame.

I want to make it clear that these are general thoughts and not directed at any one person or situation. This post has been coagulating in my head for months.

For myself, I came up with Brian's Blog Rules. Since I've been reading a book about "Seven Steps", I made seven of them. Feel free to join up if you're so inclined, disagree, or add something.

1. I will never lower myself to name calling. I may think it but I'll never write it.

2. I will respect the opinions of others in a way that I wish my own to be respected.

3. If I can't be polite, I'll click my little mouse to another location.

4. I will try to understand the difference between liberty and license. I'm free to write anything I please here or in someone else's comments. That doesn't mean I should always do it.

5. I'll try to keep reminding myself that other people's experiences are different from my own, and that before I'll cast a judgemental eye I will remind myself about walking in other people's shoes.

6. If I feel the need to gossip, I'll stand up from my chair, walk to my bookshelf and read one of the books there that can enrich my mind or provide a pleasurable escape.

7. I like a good debate as much as anyone else. Maybe more. But I'll confine my debate to ideas or philosophies and not personalities.

There now. Another post that has been rolling around for awhile finds its home in print. I feel so much better!

P.S. I'd like to thank my wonderful friend Carol who sent me some books about writing. She's a gem, and I hope to put her reading material to good use!
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Its Wednesday already and my week is flying by me.

I've been studying and reading the "Seven Steps to Effective Instructional Leadership". I've been making notes in preparation for the next session of the principal's academy tomorrow. I think I'm ready to discuss the book after I make a few more notes tonight.

An angry parent called me a "motherfucker" after I suspended her daughter. Separated from the girl she was having a conflict with, she went after her again in my presence and I had to physically restrain her. That earned her a suspension. Mom didn't agree. She threw a hissy fit, called me the name, and stormed out of my office, leaving her daughter there with me. The girl looked at me wide eyed. I just shrugged. So did the girl. After a couple of minutes mom came storming back in to take her.

My vice principal friend who always teased me about moms giving me hugs last year now had a new reason to tease me. He said, "the honeymoon's over baby. Welcome to my world!"

One of the things the mom chewed on me was that her daughter got elbowed in the face during the basketball game the night before. She said, "she got elbowed in the face. What do you call that?" I said questioningly, "basketball?" Getting elbowed is part of the game. She'd better hang it up now if that is going to be an issue.

Patrick has decided to be a vampire for Halloween. We have the vampire makeup kit ready to go. He loves the blood red amulet that came with it. He's also been threatening to suck all my blood and steal my soul. I told him I'd rather keep both. Aubree is going to be Tinkerbelle or some kind of little fairy.

Its Red Ribbon Week at school with a different them every day. Today was "crazy hair day". That leaves me out, right? Not quite. The people I work with wouldn't allow me to get out of it that easy. This guy got loose in the building to everyone's amusement.



So how is YOUR week going?
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Patrick walked in last night and said, "Dad, do you know what the opposite of darkness is?" Quickly, I said, "light of course." He laughed, rubbed my head and said, "no silly, the opposite of darkness is love." Love? "Yes dad. Just like darkness is infinite, so is love. There is no darkness when you have love." I asked him where he'd heard that and he said, "a movie." Of course, a movie. Then he expanded beyond the movie lines to talk about the infinity of love. "Dad, if you love me, then I love you twice as much. Then you love me twice as much as that. It can go on forever!" My son, the philosopher romantic. Where could he have gotten that from?

Is darkness the absence of love? I'm a sappy romantic in many ways, so the idea has merit for me. I'm trying to picture a world in which I neither give nor receive love. Is that even possible? Don't we all love someone or feel loved by someone? I say that and then I think of some people I have known who seem to have a loveless life. How tragic is that?

I think that you need to give and receive love to be a whole and complete person. Remember the movie "Castaway" and Tom Hanks' relationship with "Wilson" the soccer ball? I don't know if you could classify that as love, but Hanks poured out his emotions and feelings to that soccer ball. He even empathized with it and imagined it communicating back to him. Prisoners of war have written how the love of their families and friends help sustain them through the darkest times. They'd lay in their filthy cells an imagine those mundane exchanges we all take for granted. Kissing their wife goodbye. A family picnic. A night out on the town with their friends. A hug from a favorite aunt. Playing a game of chess with the kids. We express love in those simple events and gestures almost every day.

Patrick is right. Its love that shines light into our dark corners, nourishes us when we are ill, and provides the sunshine to our souls. The way romantic love can make you tingle and make your heart sing. The way that love of your children can make you feel warm when the world seems so cold. The way that the love of a good friend can help fill in the tiny holes that you just can't patch. The way that loving whatever God you worship can nurture your spirit. The way that even lost love, however painful, can help you grow in ways you never thought possible. The way that the love of a precious family pet can touch you in such unexpected ways.

I used to ask my students to define "love" and always enjoyed the responses. I think its like what a Supreme Court justice said of pornography: "I can't define it but I know it when I see it." I'd paraphrase that a bit. I may not be able to define it but I know it when I feel it. I feel it when my kids kiss me goodnight. I feel it when a good friend and I work through a problem in a chat or phone call. I feel it when the romantic interest in my life tells me she thinks I'm special. I feel it when I have dinner with an old friend. I feel when I sit around my parent's kitchen table and talk about life. I feel it when I help a kid work through an issue. I don't have to look for it. Its all around me.

I feel it and I know that what Patrick said is true. Without it there is only darkness.
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Its Monday history post time. I generally avoid doing posts on American presidents, but this one seems to call out to me to write about. He was the seventh president of the United States. His picture graces the twenty dollar bill. His name was Andrew Jackson. He was among the most complicated of presidents. A president of the common man. A persecutor of Indian peoples. A military hero. A founder of what would become the modern Democratic Party.

Jackson was born in the backwoods of the Carolinas to a Scottish immigrant family and grew up in poverty. When the American Revolution began he joined the Continental Army as a courier at thirteen years old and was captured by the British army. While in captivity he refused to clean the boots of a British officer and was slashed with a knife, leaving a scar that was visible his entire life. His mother and brothers died in the war and the experience left him with a hatred of the British and a strong distrust for people of aristocratic backgrounds.

After the war he moved to Tennessee and became a frontier lawyer. He was known for his brilliant mind and fiery temper, fighting several duels over matters of "honor". He was a popular figure in Tennessee and served the state as a congressmen and senator when it became a state. He returned home and became a judge on the Tennessee Supreme Court and was also appointed a colonel of the Tennessee militia. It was his military exploits that brought him fame.

Jackson's militia waged war on the rebellious Creek Indians in the "Red Stick Wars" and imposed a treaty on the Creek nation, taking 20 million acres of land for white settlement. Sam Houston and Davy Crockett served under his command. He was regarded by his soldiers as being "tough as hickory", earning him a nickname that would last a lifetime. When the War of 1812 broke out he again fought Indians who took the side of the British. He was sent to defend New Orleans from British attack and won a major victory. Jackson Square is a major landmark in New Orleans to this day.

Jackson was ordered to take his army into Florida in 1817 to fight against Seminole and Creek Indians who it was said were attacking American settlements and sheltering runaway slaves. In this "1st Seminole War" Jackson occupied the state and the facts on the ground forced Spain to give up Florida to the United States. Jackson was appointed as governor of Florida Territory.

Jackson's military exploits brought him nationwide fame and he ran for president in 1824. He received more popular votes and electoral votes than any other candidate, but failed to win a majority, throwing the election into the House of Representatives. John Quincy Adams was chosen president by the House and Jackson spent the next four years railing against what he called the "corrupt bargain" that installed Adams in office.

He ran for president again in 1828 and won an overwhelming victory as the candidate of the new Democratic Party. In many states this was the first election that non-landowners were allowed to vote, and they voted for Jackson in large numbers. He was the first president that was not from one of the original thirteen colonies. He was the first president to come from a "common" background. He was the last American president to have been a veteran of the Revolutionary War and the only president to have been a prisoner of war.

Jackson was enraged that questions about his wife had been brought up during the campaign. He married Rachel in 1791, believing that she had been divorced from her husband. However, questions about the legality of the divorce forced them to marry for a second time. Jackson killed a man who insulted his wife's virtue in a duel and threatened many others. When his wife died shortly after he took office, he blamed his political opponents and never forgave Adams.

He threw open the doors of the White House for an inauguration party that lasted for days. A gigantic cheese was laid out for visitors to carve from. Kegs of beer flowed freely. Drunken revelers passed out in the hallways of the president's house. Jackson himself became ill and spent several days at a nearby hotel. The aristocracy of the country was aghast. He was demeaning the dignity of the office, they believed. How could a such a ruffian be president? The elite that ran the nation's financial and business affairs found themselves for the first time at odds with the president.

In those days the White House did not have the black fence that you see today. You could literally walk up and knock on the front door at any time of the day or night. Many people, seeing Jackson as their champion did just that. The White House staff was small, and it was not uncommon for the president himself to answer the door. People came and asked for jobs. Women came to complain to the president about their cheating husbands. Salesmen hawked their wares. Citizens lodged a complaint against a government agency. Can you imagine people having that kind of access to the president today?

Jackson fought a battle with Congress and the nation's financial elite over the Bank of the United States. Federal money was deposited in this bank which also made loans to the government and private industries. Jackson believed that the bank was undemocratic and favored the wealthy elite. He refused to deposit money into the bank, instead placing deposits in dozens of smaller banks around the country. He vetoed the reauthorization of the bank and succeeded in killing it off.

When the leaders of South Carolina threatened to "nullify" or ignore federal tariff laws, a national crisis appeared to be in the making. Jackson's own vice president, John C. Calhoun, supported the effort of his home state to ignore federal laws that they believed violated their rights. Jackson threated to personally lead an army into South Carolina and hang the leaders. Although sympathetic with his native South, he strongly opposed the idea that states had a right to secede from the Union. The arguments that ensued were echoed thirty years later at the outbreak of the Civil War.

Jackson supported the Indian Removal Act of 1830 which authorized the president to negotiate treaties with Indian tribes to exchange their tribal lands in the East for land west of the Mississippi River. He ignored a Supreme Court decision that stated that Georgia could not forcibly remove Cherokees from their land. Jackson's actions resulted in the "Trail of Tears" in which thousands of Indians from the "Five Civilized Tribes" died during a forced march to the newly formed "Indian Territory". Millions of acres of tribal lands were opened to white settlers as a result. Many Creeks felt personally betrayed by Jackson, having fought beside him during the Red Stick Wars and the War of 1812.

Jackson was the first American president to have an assassination attempt made on his life. David Lawrence, an unemployed painter pulled a pistol on Jackson, but the gun misfired. Incredibly, he pulled out a second pistol which also misfired! President Jackson proceeded to beat his assailant with a cane.



After eight years in office Jackson retired to his Hermitage estate in Tennessee. He died there in 1845.

Jackson was a complicated man and so is his legacy. He made great contributions in the expansion of democracy and including the common man as a voice in national affairs. He was a bulwark against the elites who tried to run the country no matter who was in office. His strong stand against secession averted a possible breakup of the country. He was a skilled military commander and a strong leader of men.

His brutal treatment of native tribes tarnishes his legacy. The greedy land grab of historic tribal territory is a blot in the history of this country and a blot on Jackson's reputation. How do we square the good and the bad? How can someone who was such a champion for the poor have also been an owner of slaves until his death? Does the good done on one hand redeem the bad done with the other?

This is of course a question asked about many presidents. Lincoln saved the Union but shredded the Constitution during the Civil War, Johnson pushed through historical civil rights changes but got bogged down in Vietnam, and Nixon achieved great diplomatic successes but squandered it all in a burglary coverup.

Jackson was one of the most fascinating of all presidents. Colorful, controversial, opinionated, strong-willed, and sure of the righteousness of his actions. Over 150 years after his death historians are still trying to figure him out.
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I mentioned in previous posts that I had a friend coming this weekend. What I didn't make clear was that this was a female friend and that she was going to meet my kids for the first time. Furthermore, I was going to meet one of hers. They came in Friday evening and left this afternoon.

I've written here many times about the trepidation I've had about allowing the women in my life to meet my children. Given everything they've been through, my heart aches at the thought of them becoming attached to someone and getting burned again. I feared they'd fall for her and then it wouldn't work out. I feared they would'nt fall for her and I'd be looking at a situation of having feelings for someone that my kids didn't care for.

I've been dating for over a year and the only woman who met the kids was someone they already knew. The other women were practically unknown to them. When I'd go on a date I would dodge questions about who I was seeing. "I'm just going out to the movies with a friend", was a common reply. What friend? "Just a friend." Whats her name? "Dont worry about it. You don't know her."

So why the change now? Why did I allow her to meet them? This has been on my mind for some time now. First, I thought I was being overly paranoid in the cautious direction. Its not like I'd be saying, "hey kids, meet your new mommy", or anything like that. I'm introducing them to a friend, someone I'm interested in, someone whose company I find enjoyable. I decided there was nothing wrong with the kids being part of that. Second, this woman is someone I've got to know well enough to get a strong sense that it would be ok. It just felt right. I've also come to believe that before I can really get serious about anyone I have to see them around the kids. I suppose I just decided that if I didn't make a big deal out of it that the kids wouldn't either.

A woman coming to my house? Operation "Clean The Pit" was in full swing for a week. Nooks and crannies got attention they hadn't seen for awhile. She tried to assure me that all that wasn't necessary. I thought it was. The kids were good sports about helping out with the knowledge that a weekend of fun was lying ahead of them.

How did it go? I'd have to say that it went great. We had a fun time at the movies on Friday night. We came back to my house and the kids collapsed in exhaustion after a big day. On Saturday we went to Oktoberfest, spent some time at two local parks, had a nice dinner out, and came home. I was trying to wear the kids out, but it was me who had to take a nap for awhile! Today it was back to the park again and the kids played outside with our dog.

The kids seemed to like her. Patrick told her that she had, "nice buttocks" and "the face of a 20 year old." My son, the charmer. Of course, he also knocked a drink out of her hand swinging a blanket around and farted in the car. Aubree had a magnificent time with her daughter. They stayed up last night, giggling and watching movies, until late at night and were practically inseparable for most of the visit. Patrick played with both of them in the park and at home, and that seemed to go nicely as well. I found her daughter to be a lovely girl, charming, funny, feisty, and good with my kids. Everyone seemed relaxed and at ease, and that includes me!

This feels like a milestone of sorts, a marker that I haven't been able to force myself to meet before. After a fantastic weekend, I think I made the right decision. No one can ever be certain about the future, but I do know that the kids and I were able to enjoy the company of a lovely woman and her daughter. Whats wrong with that?
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It looks like a cool autumn weekend. We have visitors coming. We plan on going to Oktoberfest. Schnitzel, streudel, or sausages anyone?

But before I consume any Bavarian pretzels I thought I'd stroll around the blogworld. What a week its been! Here, take my hand and go for a walk with me. See over there? How about over here? Keep looking.....

Restless Angel is ready for the rain to go away. E was ready for her headache to go away.

Aubree is happy about her new frog. E is happy that her son got through surgery and is just fine.

Chicky Babe wants to know if chocolate is better than sex. Boo wants to know what will make her not feel so overwhelmed.

Feisty Girl’s breasts have slain many a bra. Karen’s essay will make you think. (scroll to “What Doesn’t Kill Us”)

Breazy had a spiritual experience. Want to experience a work of art in progress? Check out this post from Veronica.

Irina misses some things about the country of her birth. SonSon wishes she’d missed out on the book series she’s been reading.

Margaret wonders if her daughter is too old to trick or treat. Walker wonders why a man should go to jail for having a cell phone.

Cheryl’s son changed his mind about his Halloween costume….with a little of mom’s help. Phoenix’s son was born twelve years ago but not without a little drama!

Ellen has been checking out National Geographic’s wildcam. Babs was checking out nature.

Hillbilly Mom just rocks. Trick just needs to let off some steam.

New Wave Gurly is thinking about Wilma. Lewis is thinking about the definition of peace.

Keb is nursing a sore boob. Pat is rolling her eyes at Madonna’s plans to bring back disco.

Shirazi discusses the earthquake’s impact on Pakistan’s economy. Monica discusses her different selves.
Simply Satisfied has some cravings. Dwayne has a clean garage.

Sally went for a ride on a four wheeler. Steel Cowboy is taking a coworker for a ride.

Teresa shares 100 things about herself. Robin shares her thoughts on letting her kids cuss.

Lime introduces us to her kids. Roselle introduces us to “her song”.

Joan thinks Halloween is getting a little carried away. Pearl thinks those serendipitous moments had their purpose.

Kathy reports on a “ride for kids”. Scorpy reports on her new job!

Colleen has a confession to make. Justin has a new place to eat lunch.

Janine has some thoughts on hazing and bullying. Buffi has some random thoughts of her own.

In this corner Bsoholic has a fighter. In this corner you’ll find Vickie, a dreamer and a fighter.

Mel just returned from Bali. Lori just took the road less traveled.

Seshat is taking a vote on what to write about. Ginger is getting desperate for “Desparate Housewives” to get better.

Darla shares pictures of the South Carolina sky. Thomai shares her thoughts about the “spark” that some people have.

Stacey got rid of a toenail. Chrissy got rid of sodas.

Maddy wants to know how people turn away from the horror. Frani wants to know how to keep burglars out of her home.

Mercy remembers being lost. Tisha remembers when people weren’t thinking of suing fast food restaurants for causing obesity.

Lil Bit writes an ode to the fall. Chosha writes about a man who reported a missing car but not his missing son.

Leslie has the washing machine blues. Bec had the restless blues.

Wanna see Fly Girl when she’s worn out? Wanna find out about Lu’s true lies?

Jules shares some snippets from a day on the job. Rachel shares thoughts about being a failure.

Jazzy had a lover’s lunch. Melanie had some rotten eggs and a most interesting conversation about them.

Mind of Me talks about a narcissistic coworker. Betsy talks about taking advantage of being offline.

Aka Monty liked this description of her blog. Asp likes Mark Darcy.

Dawn is trying to improve her sleep. Sarah is trying to be a better boss.

Mystic knows how she likes it. Anne knows what her needs are.

Mona discusses being open to new things. Anica discusses a lot of things about herself.

Michael discusses the death of Rick Nelson. Stephanie discusses her dad’s birthday and fathers past and present.

Trucker Bob is thinking about a trip to Florida. Lisa was thinking about finding the right deodorant.

M_D’s blog was taken over in a very canine way. John wishes someone else would take over the New Orleans Saints.

Lisa’s husband got a new job. Someone might need a new nose if they don’t stop messing with Andie while she’s in her tae kwon do outfit.

Stephanie reports on a guy who faked being a doctor to pick up girls. Wanda reports on things she hates.

Amanda is so over playing the lottery. Annabel is featuring a “song of the day”.

Kim reports on a mansion on wheels. Christine is reporting on Wilma and how it might affect her plans.

What a stroll eh? Don't forget to wave and smile and let them know how great they are. Because they really are......and so are you.

Have a fantastic weekend my friends!
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Fulfilling a long made promise, I took Aubree to the "Build A Bear" store to let her have a stuffed animal. She was so very excited and her excitement must've infected Patrick because he chose to spend his money on a bear as well. She picked out a frog, selected a heart, got her stuffed and outfitted, and chose to name her "Jenny". Jenny the Frog. Patrick chose to name his bear "Junior".

I watched as the syrupy sales girl had them rub the heart against their own before it was sewn into the stuffed animal. I watched as air and stuffing blew the stuffed animal to life. I watched as the kids found the clothing and accessories to make their creation personal. I watched as they printed out a birth certificate with their new loved one's name. I watched their delight as they hugged them for the first time.

My mind has a habit of going the strangest places at the strangest times. In the midst of this very bubbly kiddy store I started thinking about genetic engineering. I thought about articles I've read that outlined a future where parents could choose their children's eye and hair color, eliminate genes known to cause cancer, alcoholism, or homosexuality, give them that extra boost of athleticism from an athletic donor, or an extra dose of intelligence from some PhD student.

It would be a "Build A Kid" world. Perhaps some perky nurse would show you all the possible selections in a nicely colored brochure. For enough money your kid could be a dynamo, a cross between Michael Jordan and Albert Einstein. She could be beautiful and long-legged and not have to worry about dying her hair. He or she would have all the necessary characteristics to make you proud. Go through the checklist, get out your checkbook, and your tailor made child would be ready for you soon.

This got me to thinking. If I was going through a checklist like that, would I have chosen to have a son with autism and ADHD? I'm guessing I wouldn't have. Would I have picked my daughter to be exactly as she is? Probably not. I would've wanted all those same things people dream of when they think of having children. My kids would be smart, attractive, and the envy of their peers. Thats the nirvana, isn't it?

But then I thought some more. I thought what I would've missed out on. I would've missed out on a son who can't walk by me without kissing me on top of my head. I would've missed all those funny things he says and all those magnificent inventions he's created. I would've missed out on the way his eyes light up when he sees me come in the door. I would've missed out on my daughter and her unique personality that I adore so much. Perhaps she wouldn't laugh the same way or have that way of bouncing when she walks. Maybe she wouldn't run with her hair flying in the wind the way she does now.

When I think of it that way, perfection isn't so desirable. What matters to me about them is their heart. Just as their little stuffed creatures had a heart sewn into them, my kids were born with a unique nature that I treasure. They aren't something to be built to standard. They are human beings to be nurtured and loved just as they are.

I'd like to think that I've metaphorically rubbed my own heart and given them a small piece of it to carry with them, just like they did with their bears. I'd like to believe that I've given them the best of me and that they will shed the worst.
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Its Wednesday. Yay! Not only is this the middle of the week, but it feels like Friday. There is no school for the next couple of days. Gotta love a long weekend!

My apologies to all who have had trouble commenting the last couple of days. Just when I thought my comment problem was permanently cured, they start appearing and disappearing at random again. I'll be damned if I understand what the problem is. Hopefully it will clear up soon!

I've been remiss in not mentioning the terrible earthquake that hit Pakistan, home of my friend Shirazi. Look at some of the pictures he has chronicled here. Thousands are dead and many more have lost their homes in this beautiful nation. This site is taking donations for the relief effort.

One of our low functioning students has a propensity for groping the female staff members that assist him. They lower their guard for a moment and his hands are where they definitely shouldn't be. They asked if I'd like to assist them today. I told them I regretfully had to pass.

Another low functioning student decided to pee where he wasn't supposed to. In the handicapped bathroom we have a plastic trashcan with gloves, wipies, and extra clothes. He walks right past all the urinals and lets it fly into the container, ruining the supplies and causing us to have to wash the clothes. Argh!

Patrick is hyper charged about the upcoming Halloween festivities. He so LOVES Halloween. Sometime in the next few days we'll get his costume together. Aubree? She likes to trick-or-treat but the costume thing is just the price she pays to get what she wants....free candy!

This time of year tends to pass quickly for me. A fall holiday this week, work a few weeks, Thanksgiving, a few more weeks, and then Christmas holidays. Its the spring that seems to last forever!

I'm looking forward to the weekend of course. We are having a couple of visitors whose company I know we will enjoy!

I have a little light reading ahead of me in the next week. "7 Steps to Effective Instructional Leadership" is my assignment for next week. I've read about half of it and actually enjoyed some of the ideas. I may even write a post about it.

We have a school policy against having cell phones in the classroom. Kids may bring them to school, but during the school day they must remain in the locker and turned off. We had a mom that instructed her daughter to carry her cell phone with her at all times. I explained the policy to her. She said that her daughter needed the cell phone in case of emergencies. I asked her to explain what emergency she was going to have in math class that would necessitate her having to use a cell phone. No good answer, but she didn't trust that it wouldn't be stolen out of her locker. Well, then don't bring it to school! This was a nice cell phone. I really don't understand the logic of sending a $300 piece of electronic equipment to school with an eleven year old. The odds of it actually ever being truly needed? Almost zero. The odds of it getting her in trouble, getting broke, or being stolen? Fairly high.

After crawling on my hands and knees through my mother's attic tonight and laying on my stomach covered with old insulation to diagnose a roof leak, I came to a conclusion. I'm too old for this shit! My knees are still throbbing from planting themselves on ceiling joists.

So how is YOUR week going?
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I was reorganizing and dusting off my bookshelf a couple of days ago. Yes, I do try and do that every now and then! I picked up my high school yearbook from my senior year. Every so often I do this and go back and look at the pictures. I can’t really call high school my “glory days” like many people can, but I did have some great times and some great friends.

What I rarely do is look at the inscriptions. This time I paged through the book, reading what classmates had written to me twenty six years ago. I was amused by some of them and others gave me some warm fuzzies. I thought I’d share a few here and respond to them.

Steve: I know its tough to put up with kids like me. You have a good sense of humor and helped make this a good year for me. Good luck in college!

Thanks Steve. You weren’t really all that bad. On a pain-in-the-ass rating I would’ve only given you about a “5”. You really shouldn’t have put that glass of water on the top shelf of my locker and got me wet. That was uncool!

Lori: You are really a sweet guy and I’ve enjoyed being in 2nd hour with you. You’d make a nice “Paw” and you make a really cool friend. Remember us when you grow up to be a famous coach or maybe the president. OK? Your friend always.

Lori, I remember that 2nd hour class very well. You were a pretty decent “Maw” yourself. (Lori and I co-starred as hillbilly parents in a school play). I’m not famous, I’m not a coach anymore, and its safe to say that I’ll never be president. I did have a crush on you. Its too bad that play didn’t have any kissing scenes in it.

Bart: I’m really glad we got to know each other. We’ve had so many laughs together. I hope for the best in your life Brian and I know you’ll go far. I hope you catch the biggest fish every some day.

Bart! My man! You were one of my favorite people in school. I loved how you could climb anything…the rock wall of the school, the flagpole, or any fence in existence. I remember our baseball field trip where you talked one of the girls out of a pair of her panties, climbed the pole at the other school, and hung them from the top. All the adults were mad, but none of them were willing to climb up and get those panties down. They all knew it was you but couldn’t prove it. It was so cool that you graciously volunteered to climb up there and get them down. No surprise to me that you went into high wire construction and made a fortune. The last I heard you married my prom date from our senior year. Hope all is well with both of you!

Eilena: To a sweet “man”. I’ve enjoyed sharing the fun of P.O.D. class with you and wish you luck. I know you will succeed. Love, Eilena Marie (not Sue)

Eilena, I was thrilled to see you finally acknowledge my manhood status at last. I know you teased me enough about the difference between being a boy and a man. That’s only fair I guess. I teased you about our trip to the state capital and that senator standing right in front of you with an unzipped fly while you sat on his office couch. I had a mega-crush on you. (Did I have a crush on every girl?) Remember when you worked at Wal Mart and I was always coming in? I must’ve spent every minimum wage dollar I had in that store so I could “bump into you”. For some reason I always thought Sue fit in better with your name. Tell you what…you call me a man and I’ll get your middle name right. Deal?

Ben: I’m sorry we couldn’t get to know each other better. Too bad we couldn’t go on a date (just kidding!). You were a great friend when I first came here and you helped me out a lot. I thank you for that.

Ben, I’m glad you put that just kidding thing in there. You had me worried just for a second. I remember your first day there at school. Dude, you had some serious hair! I remember your mom paying me gas money to bring you home from basketball practice each day. She financed the gas and the cold Coke I just had to have every day. I never saw you after I graduated and I hope things have worked out for you.

Larry: Its been real fun going to school with you. We’ve had some real good times playing jokes on people. Remember when Craig kissed that girl?

Larry, you had to bring up my practical joking past. The never-ending locker jokes…cups of water (and worse) in lockers, super glue, and tacks. The tools of the trade. It wasn’t me who let all the air out of Ricky’s truck tires. I thought that was you! That Craig-kissing-the-girl thing? I just contributed a couple of bucks like a bunch of others did. It was her first day of school. We paid Craig to walk up to her in the hall and kiss her fully on the lips. We laughed when he got slapped right in the face. Yeah, I was laughing too. Kids are so damned mean, aren’t they?

Rebecca: To a totally nice guy that I like a lot. This year has been fun, just talking or smiling when we see each other in the hall. Good luck in the future.

Rebecca, we never quite got it together did we? You were crushing on me big-time when I was a sophomore. All those notes you wrote and your friends telling me, “she likes you!” Alas, I was crushing on someone else at the time. Then I decided I liked you but you had a boyfriend. Then you decided you liked me but I had a girlfriend. All those notes, all those times in the parking lot, all the little glances we exchanged. We somehow managed to like each other for several years and the only thing that came out of it was a few kisses at the band contest and me playing Yahtzee with you and your mom that time. I do sometimes wonder how you’re doing. Is that weird?

Derek: Its been cool going to school with you and we had a lot of good times. If you ever need a good laugh just think of the time we cheated in P.O.D.

Derek! My long haired California friend. I could use a good laugh, so don’t mind if I do dredge up the P.O.D. (Problems of Democracy) cheating episode. I actually knew that material pretty well, but you and my other friends didn’t. Our class was in the same room where math was taught the rest of the day. The board was full of algebra problems. So I converted all the test answers to mathematical formulas. Need to remember that the president made 200k a year? I wrote on the board “PxS=200,000”. Brilliant but devious if I do say so myself! The teacher never even noticed all the odd math equations on the board. Almost everyone made a perfect score on that test. We got rewarded with a free day of Cokes and playing poker in class.

David: Stony, haha! I’ve enjoyed going to school and playing basketball with you. Keep practicing and maybe you’ll be able to slam dunk like me! Good luck with your Dodge. Maybe you’ll actually get it running right one of these days. Keep straight and stay in touch with the Guy in the Sky.

David, you were just one of those people that was impossible to dislike. Such a funny guy! No one has called me “Stony” for more than 25 years. Unless you grew six inches after high school I doubt you ever got to the slam dunk stage. Of course, I can’t do it now either! My Dodge wasn’t THAT bad. It ran. Do you remember that Halloween night when you and some other guys were riding in back? We passed the local hangout and the guys in the parking lot starting pelting those of you in the back with bottle rockets and persimmons? You weren’t happy that I stopped and let you guys suffer the barrage while I sat safely in the cab of the truck. But you had a sense of humor and got over it quickly! Hope you’re doing well my friend. Something tells me that you are.

I wonder what I wrote in their books? Something witty and impressive I’m sure. When I watch kids signing yearbooks I sometimes remind them that their classmate’s grandchildren might be reading some day, so please be nice!

Why is it that I can read those words and feel instantly back there? Perhaps I really haven’t changed all that much. I’m older, wear better clothes, and don’t have the funky hairdo. But I can see myself in everything I read. I hadn’t had the successes or the failures I’ve experienced in life. But my essence, what makes me unique, was the same then as it is now.

I don’t play practical jokes like that anymore. Much.
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History isn't all heroes. Today's history post will discuss one of the best known criminals in American history.

His brazen act shocked a nation. The big sigh of relief that had been spreading turned into anger and grief. He was at the head of a plot to decapitate the government of the United States. He shot and killed a president. His name was John Wilkes Booth.

He was born in Maryland, son of a well known and respected Shakesperean actor. He attended boarding school in the winter, and was encouraged by his often absent father to indulge himself in the classics. He studied and memorized Shakespeare and the best known literature of the day. He was known for his ability to recite long passages from memory. Like his brothers he set out to be a famous actor.

During tours of the South he fell in love with the courtly customs, rituals, accents, of the southern states. Considered quite handsome and dashing, he had a string of lovers across the South. He met influential and wealthy people and began building a name for himself. Never before political, he began to strongly sympathize with the southern states view of sovereignty, economics, and slavery. He felt that the wealthy, industrial northern states were bullies, oppressing a proud and tradition-minded southern people. He joined a local militia in Richmond called the Richmond Greys. When abolitionist John Brown was hanged after his raid on Harper's Ferry, Booth attended the funeral as part of the honor guard. He felt the fire burn within him. How dare Brown and others try to impose their views on the South and threaten to use force?

Booth's acting career continued to soar. By the time the Civil War broke out he was one of the best known actors in the nation. His name on the playbill was a huge drawing card. He was making over $15,000 a year, a princely sum for the time. He wore finely tailored suits and moved in high society circles. His reputation as a womanizer continued to grow as well. He was rumored to have a lover in dozens of cities.

When the Civil War broke out, Booth continued his acting career rather than joining the Confederate Army. He'd promised his mother that he would avoid combat but he wanted desperately to help the South. So he used his connections, wealth, and ability to travel to carry messages between the Confederate government and its sympathizers in the North. Even though his sympathies were well known, he continued to draw large crowds in northern cities. He even played in Washington, D.C., and in the audience was Abraham Lincoln, the president of the United States.

His network of spies and sympathizers carried on their activities throughout the war. By 1864 things were looking bleak for the South. Lee had suffered a devastating defeat at Gettysburg and Sherman was marching through the South and setting it afire. Booth and his friends devised a plan. They would kidnap the president of the United States and hold him for ransom. The ransom price? Release of Confederate prisoners. A large sum of gold. Perhaps an end to the war itself.

He assembled a network of associates to pull off his plan. John Surrat, whose mother ran a boarding house in Washington, D.C., Lewis Paine, George Atzerodt, David Herold, Samuel Blaine Arnold, and a few others were at the core of his conspiracy. They met and plotted. President Lincoln was to attend a play at Ford's Theatre in January, 1865. Their plan? Turn out the house lights, enter the president's box, knock him unconscious, lower him on to the stage, drag his body out the back door, load it on a carriage, cross the Potomac River, and make for Richmond, Virginia. There was only one problem with the plan. Lincoln decided not to attend the show that night. The plotters were frightened that someone had been tipped off and left town quickly.

Lincoln was re-inagurated president in March, 1865. Guess who was in attendance? Booth's privileged status enabled him to have a front row seat. He watched, seething in hatred, as Lincoln gave his second inaugural address. He could've easily pulled out a gun and shot him right there, but was still focused on the kidnapping plan.

During this time he courted Bessie Hale, the daughter of a northern Senator. He gained her father's approval for marriage and she became his fiancee. The wedding would be put on hold for awhile while Senator Hale took up his new position as ambassador to Spain. In spite of Booth's southern leanings, the Hale family was thrilled that their daughter was engaged to such a well known actor.

Then everything changed. On April 9, 1865 Lee surrendered to Grant at Appomattox Court House. The war was over. Washington, D.C. erupted in celebration. Parties were thrown and people danced in the streets. Booth and his followers watched as Lincoln appeared on the balcony of the White House and gave a victory speech. An angry Booth came up with an entirely different plan.

He and his followers would decapitate the northern government and throw it into chaos. Four assassinations were planned to be carried out on the same night. His followers would kill Vice President Andrew Johnson, Sec. of State William Seward, and Sec. of War Edwin Stanton. Booth cast himself in the starring role. He would kill the president. Booth believed that this would throw the government into chaos and hearten the South. Maybe things weren't really over. A rejuvenated, revived Confederacy would not lay down their arms after all.

Booth read that Lincoln would attend the Ford's Theatre production of "Our American Cousin"on April 14, 1865. Sending his other agents to slay their targets, he went to a bar near the theater and had a couple of drinks. Booth was familiar with the play and knew that only one actor would be left onstage at a certain point in the show. The crowd was roaring in laughter as actor Harry Hawk stood onstage belting out his lines. Booth climbed the stairs, opened the door to the presidential suite, and stepped inside. He drew his 50 caliber derringer and fired a bullet into the back of Lincoln's head. After a brief scuffle with Henry Rathbone, Lincoln's guest, Booth stood up on the edge of the balcony. The crowd was still laughing. Booth leapt off the balcony, but his foot caught on the bunting that decorated the presidential box. He landed awkwardly on the stage, instantly breaking his leg. Hobbling to the center he looked at the crowd. Many were still laughing. Is this a surprise? The great Booth making a guest appearance? He yelled out, "Sic semper tyrannis", Latin for "thus always to tyrants", hobbled across the stage on his broken leg, and exited out the back door to his waiting carriage. No one knew anything was wrong until Mrs. Lincoln's screams pierced the air.



His friends? They all failed. Atzerodt got drunk and never even tried to kill the vice president. Herold knocked on the Sec. of War's front door and left when a police patrol seemed to eye him suspiciously. Paine succeeded in getting into Stanton's home, cut him with a knife, but was forced to flee. He spent the night in the Washington cemetery as the rest of the conspirators rode south.



There was an all out manhunt for Booth and his friends. Paine and Atzerodt were caught as was Mary Surratt. Dr. Samuel Mudd was arrested after admitting to tending Booth's broken leg. Federal soldiers cornered Booth and Herold in a tobacco shed. Herold surrendered but Booth dared the soldiers to come and get him. The soldiers set the shed on fire, and violating the orders they were given, one of the soldiers fired into the shed, killing Booth.

A few months later, Paine, Atzerodt, Herold, and Mary Surratt were hanged in a public ceremony. Several other conspirators were given life sentences. Booth, in death, went from being one of the most popular men in the nation to among the most reviled. An assaassin and a killer.



The South didn't rise again. Northern soldiers occupied key southern cities for the next ten years. Slavery was abolished. Lincoln became a martyred president, the first of four to be assassinated while in office.

John Wilkes Booth achieved the fame he had always strongly desired, but it was not the kind of fame Junius Brutus Booth had hoped for his son. He goes down in history as a killer who greatly damaged the ability of the country to come back together after a bloody Civil War.
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Doctors have patients that die on the operating table. Lawyers lose big cases in court. A psychiatrist's patients sometimes commit suicide. Marriage counselors can't save every marriage. A house burns in spite of a firemen's best efforts. A preacher can't save all the souls they reach out to.

I often write of my pride in former students of mine. Not that I claim any responsibility. But you have the privilege of teaching them or working with them, see their potential, and do your small part to help them move along their path. I have former students who are in their late 30's now. Is that really possible? Some have been neurosurgeons, N.F.L. football players, lawyers, teachers, scientists, state political party chairmen, stunt men, actresses, or military officers. Some have settled into happy lives as husbands, wives, partners, or parents. When I run into them or hear from them I am thrilled. See there? I always knew it! There is a small measure of validation that balances out the frustrations of my profession. Kids grow up and achieve success. Its a thrill to think that you were even a tiny part of that.

Then there are those kids that you know are destined for trouble. You can see it when they are 11 years old. The kids you work so hard with. You see the path that is before them and you desperately want to help them avoid it. But you know that the odds are against you. You see the anger. You see the totally dysfunctional family situation. You know about the drugs.

A man recently substituted in my building and we were chatting. He noted that he grew up in the rural area of my hometown and had relatives living there. He told me his name and it rang a bell. I told him that I once had a student by that name. He said, "thats my nephew." I asked how he was doing. He said, "he's in prison now." Big sigh. This was a big kid, a good athlete, who struggled in the classroom. His father had died a violent death and his mother had big problems. He was being raised by his grandmother when I knew him. He fought everything and everyone around him.

I went home and looked him up on the Corrections Department offenders website. When I click on his name a man stared back at me in the picture. Currently incarcerated on a charge of shooting with intent to injure. Gang tatoos. Drug and firearm convictions. I look into the hardened eyes of a 23 year old man who ten years ago spent many hours in my office. Almost always it was for fighting. A young guy practically bursting at the seams with anger at the world. Albert would sometimes challenge me to tetherball games during lunch. He loved playing basketball and football and I leveraged that to try to get him to do better in the classroom. He would tell me, "I can't be weak. I can't let anyone diss me." I told him that violence wasn't the answer, that there was another way to live your life. I remember telling him, "Albert, if you act this way when you're out of school you'll end up jail." His chilling reply is clear in my mind to this day. "Mr. S, it doesn't really matter. I'd rather go to jail than let anyone mess with me."

I felt depressed looking through his photos and reading about his convictions. I could see this back then. I told his grandmother that I was very concerned about his anger. She didn't want to see it. She loved the boy, always made excuses for him. He always had a good reason for what he did in her mind. She refused my offers of counseling services and interventions. It could've been different for you Albert. A tiny part of me feels like I let you down.

This made me think back to other students I was sure were heading for trouble. I looked up five kids. Four hits.

Chris was a student I spent a lot of time with. I've been in his house numerous times, driving him home when I suspended him or was just giving him a "time out" for the day. His dad was a long haul trucker and rarely around. His mother was a hysterical woman, unable to really exert much control over this very angry teenaged boy. I walked in a classroom once and Chris had the teacher pinned behind her desk and was throwing pens and paper clips at her from the desk. He wouldn't stop and I ended up tackling him to the ground. I held him on the ground, talking to him, trying to calm him down. You could feel the anger just seep out of him. Then he cried and pulled me back when I attempted to let him go. I saw his father backhand him once and knock him over a chair. I reported it but nothing was ever done. Chris lived not far from me and would come by sometimes and stop to talk. A tough kid. Once he came by with a friend on skateboards. We talked for a few minutes and I invited them to have a soft drink on my porch on that hot summer day. You could see the boy in him still. He liked comic books and skateboards. Now I look at a picture of a man in his twenties, hardened by years of meth abuse and with five criminal convictions. It just breaks my heart.

Then there is Tracy. I worked with him during the same years I worked with Chris. They were friends, got in trouble together quite a bit. Not as physically aggressive or volatile as the others were, but seriously troubled. He was also very childlike in many ways. I used to keep baseball cards and candy in a desk drawer. When he was having a good day he would be rewarded by a trip to my office. I'd give him a card and a piece of candy. Sometimes that was a great motivator and sometimes it didn't work at all. You never knew with Tracy. He was a sneaky guy, smarter than many people thought he was. I once caught him with cigarettes secreted in a toothbrush holder, stuck in his shoe. I think of him back then, smiling when he came into my office to show me a "good note" from his teacher and waiting for his reward. How we talked once about the designated hitter rule. The way he would hang his head when he knew he was in trouble. I see that he was recently released from prison after serving time for grand larceny. It so fits the pattern I saw in him as an early adolescent. Very sad.

I knew A.J. would be there. He was perhaps the most volatile, violent adolescent I have ever worked with. During his two years at my school I was called on to restrain him probably twenty times. He could explode at anything and you never knew when it was coming. He was believed to have fetal alcohol syndrome and was adopted when he was a year or two old. I was called once to get to his classroom in a hurry. When I entered there were two male teachers holding him down on the ground. He'd apparently attacked another child and the teacher. These two grown men were having a hard time restraining this 13 year old. I joined them and tried to talk to him. He was so angry that he couldn't speak. Eventually, four of us held him on the ground, each taking an arm or leg. For almost an hour he fought against us. His parents and the police were called. When the police arrived they rolled him on his stomach, handcuffing his legs and hands together. Even trussed up like this he continued to fight the cuffs, his arms bleeding. The police were sure he was on PCP or something like it. His father arrived and tried to talk to him. Nothing worked until he finally just collapsed of exhaustion. His jeans, shirt, and socks were completely soaked in sweat. He was taken away in an ambulance, an IV running for fear of dehydration. A.J. had several short stints in the hospital but always came back quickly. The reason? His parents had no health insurance. They were in the famous "middle", blue collar workers who didn't make enough to afford insurance but made too much to qualify for state aid. In his second year with us I was able to persuade a friend who worked for a local hospital to take his case up the ladder. We got him free treatment and counseling but it was difficult for everyone.

A couple more A.J. stories. I once took him to his mother's workplace when he was acting out. This was a procedure we sometimes used with him. She was expecting him, waiting by the door. As soon as I stopped my car he jumped out and bolted. We spent the next couple of hours looking for him...me, his parents, the police. When we found him we took him to a local branch of the hospital, staffed by therapists. His therapist, his mother, and I were talking to him in the lobby when he suddenly produced a rather nasty looking knife and calmly began scraping mud off his shoes. We all asked him to hand over the knife. He kept scraping. I looked at the therapist who nodded impercetibly. I reached over quickly, grabbed his arm, and after a brief struggle, wrestled the knife from his hands. He didn't get angry. He just looked at me and said, "I'll just get another knife."

Twice in one night I was awakened by the police calling. The burglar alarm at school kept going off. The third time they found out why. A.J. had not gone home that night. He was sitting in his classroom, eating candy bars and drinking cokes pinched from another room. He said he just didn't want to go home. He'd even actually done some of his schoolwork while he sat there that night.

I'm saddened to hear that A.J. fulfilled the prophecy that was so clear back then. He was such a challenge to work with, so difficult to reach. I still held out hope that with proper support he would be able to function in society.

Robert was another child I was quite familiar with. He was so familiar with my car that he always noticed when I got a new cassette tape to listen to. I walked into a room one day and he was being restrained by our wrestling coach. He was kicking, fighting, and cussing, and I very warmly said, "how its going Robbie? Whats the problem?" He looked up and said, "fuck you, you bald headed bastard." All the people gathered around gasped in shock. I smiled and said, "Robbie, I really resent being called bald headed." Then they all laughed, including Robbie.

He was very physically aggressive with other kids. He just couldn't seem to keep his hands off people. Devious and cunning, he always had a semi-plausible story for almost everything he did. But like some of the others he could go off on a moment's notice and have a fit of total rage. I remember him stabbing a girl in the arm with a sharp pencil because she wouldn't stop hiccuping. I also remember calling his bluff once. I happened to be in his classroom once when he was angrily explaining why he didn't have his work done. He left it at home! Indignantly, he told her, "let me go home and get it then!" I said, "ok, lets do it then. Come with me." I loaded him in my car, drove to his house, and waited while he went inside. No homework of course.

Robbie is currently serving 10 years probation for rape by instrmentation. How does someone just get probation for a crime like that? He probably still lives somewhere in this area.

You always think about the fish that slipped off the hook or the girl that got away. These kids are some of the ones who got away. I picture them sitting across my desk as angry young adolescents. I remember them when you could see the dark side of human nature draining out the last vestiges of childhood innocence. I remember thinking there was still time to save them. I remember being frustrated that every tool I had in my box couldn't reach them.

Now I look at the faces of young men in their 20's, hardened by years of experience on the streets or in prison. It didn't begin with that first stolen car, that first hit of meth, or that first rape. It began long ago with dysfunctional family lives, undiagnosed mental illnesses that went untreated for years, bureaucracies, and a system that didn't know what to do with kids like this. A system that still doesn't. It should've been obvious to anyone with a pulse that these guys were headed in this direction while their classmates were still learning how to do long division. Everyone blames everyone else. Mounds of paperwork are dutifully filled out. The juvenile justice system is a cruel joke. Every one of these boys had a juvenile record. None of them were even a blip on the system's radar. When I begged for one of them to be placed in a treatment facility, the probation officer laughed at me. The pitiful number of beds available for the most violent of children are so limited that you practically have to commit murder to get in. The kids know it too and are happy to share it with you. Parents in are in total denial, never wanting to believe what is so obvious to everyone else. Schools are understaffed and teachers are undertrained to deal with kids like this. Hospitals run them through 30 day programs and dump them back out once insurance is exhausted.

I read all the time about the construction of new prisons or the expansion of old ones. This country imprisons a higher percentage of its population than any other country in the western world. How about we take some of that money and pour it in to early intervention and aggressive treatment of kids like this? Its like we just watch helplessly as they glide through the system, committing crimes, getting suspended from school, using drugs, and defying their parents. Most of these kids RUN their houses by the time they are 13 years old. Parents mollify them in every possible way just to have peace at home. Schools can't wait until they move on to another grade. The courts wag their fingers and tell them not to do it again. But no one DOES anything other than wring their hands and play the blame game.

Then they become adults and do what they've been destined to do for most of their lives. Now that they are the magic age we take notice. We incarcerate them at enormous cost to society. We 're proud of being so tough on crime. The greatest anti-crime program would be to aggressively identify and treat children who exhibit early signs of being at risk. Its many times cheaper than locking them up as adults. Adults should be held accountable for their actions but doesn't it make sense to attack the problems earlier? It pisses me off that we are so short sighted.

I hope that somehow these young men are able to turn their lives around and live peaceably in society. I'm sorry that I wasn't more help to them. I'm sorry that they made such terrible choices. I'm sorry for their victims. I'm sorry that I see others following in their footsteps. I'm sorry that I won't be able to stop some of them from ending up the same way.
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She showed it to me with a tinge of pride in her voice. "Dad, its a song I wrote. Its for my band." Your band? "Yeah, my friends and I are going to make a band and perform. I've been trying to write songs for us."

Christmas Eve
by Aubree

Its time to get the party up
So don’t frown
Just touch the ground
Its time to open presents
So mama don’t be late tonight
Cause its Christmas Eve!

Mama, why you leaving?
My life is hard
Cause I lost someone of my life tonight
She didn’t want me or that’s how it seemed to be
She left me when I was 10
Now she’ll never come back for me again.

My life had a full heart
But now I have one question
Mama why you leaving?
I can’t go on without you so please answer my question
Why you leaving?
Please tell me

Why?

She then performed part of the song musically for me. In something of an R&B beat she belted out the words as we stood alone in her room. I hugged her and told her it was beautiful. The good thing about hugging is that she couldn't see the tears that formed in my eyes. I asked her if she was feeling sad. She shook her head and said, "no, but when I think about Christmas Eve, this is what I feel. I know I'll be thinking about mom."

I could feel the sadness and the emotion in the written words, but thats not all I felt. This was good for a ten year old girl. Really good. One of Aubree's strengths is her ability to express how she feels very clearly and her ability to talk about it. I've met few children her age who are as articulate and in touch with their emotions as she is.

She's a "because" kinda girl. "Dad, I'm mad at you because...... ". I love you because......". "That movie makes me sad because......". "I don't like that boy because....." "I don't want to go to my friends house today because.........". I think its a gift. She's better at it than I am.

A lot of kids, and for that matter a lot of adults, have a hard time with the "because" part. They bury it somewhere down deep or just aren't comfortable discussing it. "I just don't like him." "I'm pissed off. Don't ask me why." "I just feel uncomfortable around her." Maybe we're afrad of someone's reaction. Maybe its just too personal. Maybe we have a difficult time pinning down what exactly it is that we're feeling.

We have a long road together, my daughter and I. We've laughed together, cried together, played together, done homework together, argued and fought, and talked about life. She's been through a lot for someone so very young and tender. I've learned from her. She isn't satisfied with simple evasive answers from me. She wants to know the "because".

She is still going strong. I met with her teacher yesterday and picked up her "straight A" report card. Her teacher told me she was a remarkably mature girl for her age. She said, "when the other kids are acting goofy, Aubree will look over at me and roll her eyes. I roll mine right back." I sometimes worry now that she is too intense and too serious. Then she'll say or do something in such a ten year old girl fashion and I'm reminded of her essence.

She told me that when she's a big star she'll record Kiss' "Beth", a favorite of mine, and dedicate to me. It won't fit in well with the R & B style she loves, but hey its for her dad, right? She'll do it

because.....

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My weekly stroll through blogland unearthed some real gems. Put your feet up and dig into the delicious posts you'll find below!

Pat discusses WWII era slang. Greek Shadow discusses conference day at school.

Feisty Girl wants to feel at home. Irina wanted to feel dry and a white knight helped her out.

Dawn had a case of the “blahs”. Collen had a bad week.

Faith wonders how she is going to reconnect all her technology after she moves. Vickie wonders what life would be like without “Missy”.

Lewis wore mismatched shoes. SonSon has an idea for keeping socks matched.

Buffi tells a cooking story. Caren tells the story of her ride.

Sleeping Mommy had a pizza delivered with white sauce. Kyra had a wonderful time with her husband. Check out the picture!

Thomai writes a divine post. Walker writes about a pet peeve.

Wanna be in Hillbilly Mom’s class? There are things you just don’t do. Wanna know what its like to be a single parent? Steel Cowboy paints the picture.

Keb shares how she met her husband. Mary Lou shares some lovely pictures from the Diablo Pass.

Karen had a case of insomnia. Lime had a case of retro-dressing.

Scorpy has been packing. Christine has been wondering how to replace her husband.

Sarah is celebrating Yom Kippur in a secular way. Leslie wasn’t celebrating getting flooded.

Becky wonders why some people don’t have common sense. DL wonders when she’ll be able to get ready for her trip.

Rachel muses about Adam and Eve. Ellen muses about priorities.

Teresa remembers one of the most difficult days of her life. Susan remembers meeting her “hunky stud muffin”.

Stephanie has some needs. Pearl has some answers.

Aka Monty is taking applications for Prince Charming. Stationery Queen is walking and fighting her worst enemy.

Wanna play at Chrissy’s house? Sure thing, but you gotta follow the rules. Would a cat bite your toes off? Chosha tells the tale.

Lu has mixed some lies in with the truth. Margaret spent some time just sitting in her daughter’s room.

Boo shares why it’s a good idea to read the fine print. Angel shares some things she’s been thinking about.

Restless Angel remembers her grandmother’s passing. Michael probably doesn’t want to remember this day.

T. Marie discusses the language of the sexes. Michelle discusses a very challenging student.

Breazy had one of those scary parent moments. Justin had one of those moments where he didn’t feel well enough to go to work.

Annabel Lee is enjoying some leisure. Che is welcoming the fall.

New Wave Gurly didn’t think she had sins to atone for. Joe thinks that February sounds like a good time to get married.

Chicky Babe discusses “Casual Friday”. Skunk discusses the crushes he’s had.

Monica thinks women should lay off their men when it comes to football. Andie thinks she needs to have a weekend that is a lot better than her week.

Veronica shares a piece of her vintage Halloween postcard collection. Jennifer shares her 100 things.

The Real Me wonders what her art says about her. Mona wonders about similarities and differences.

Jewel is shutting down her blog. E is tired of moping.

Trusty Getto’s blog cat is out of the bag. MD has some ideas if your blog is in a rut.

Trucker Bob reminds us that being retired has its downside. Phoenix reminds us that a non-traditional pet can still be loads of fun.

Angie’s car got broken into. Liz’s chickens got taken away.

Carol is feeling a change. Mercy was feeling happy about her daughter’s clean room.

Jack discusses the A.C.L.U. Edge discusses how people he cares about our suffering.

Penny shares what her bedroom looks like. Lil Bit shares some things about men.

Trick wants some adult entertainment. Bsoholic wants his wound to heal.

Splendid got a new computer and shares some wisdom. John’s patient got a new job!

Pauly doesn’t have anything in common with his hairstylist. Chuck doesn’t understand why people get married so young.

Babs is blogging the wireless way. Will Ginger be blogging from New York City next spring?

Darla wonders why about a few things. Fly Girl wonders how you can stop at just a kiss.

Anne doesn’t stop trying when it comes to relationships. Mystic doesn’t think much of Catholic funeral services.

Redneck Diva shares how people got to her blog. Stacey shares what it was like to break her fast.

There now....wasn't that fun? I hope you enjoyed and let everyone else know how much you enjoyed their posts.

Have a fantastic weekend my friends!

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Midweek came in fast and low. I barely saw it coming! Nonetheless, its here and its time for me to meander and muse a bit.

Aubree to me: "Dad, a boy hit me in the arm after school"
Me to Aubree: "Thats not very nice. Why did he do that?"
Aubree: "I don't know Dad"
Me: "He didn't just walk up and hit you for no reason did he?"
Aubree: "He's girl crazy and he won't leave my friend alone."
Me: "Ok, but what does that have to do with him hitting you?"
Aubree: "I walked up and told him to leave my friend alone and I kicked him."
Me: "So you walked up and kicked him and then he hit you. Do you see the problem here?"
Aubree: "FINE Dad. I can see you're not on MY side." (Storms off in a huff)

I walk into the kitchen and see that the new box of cereal is gone. Wait, its not gone, just the box is gone, the plastic bag of cereal seats neatly on the shelf. Ditto for the macaroni and cheese boxes. Did I ever mention that my son has a thing about boxes? He LOVES to make things and he can't wait for the box to be used up. What was it that he made? I had to ask you know. His reply, "Dad, this is a hyperfrequency modulator." To think I just thought it was a bunch of cereal and macaroni and cheese boxes.

We had a naturalization ceremony at our school today. Three federal judges convened court in our auditorium. The ceremony was to begin at 11:00. The new citizens-to-be began arriving at 8:30. About 55 of them with with their families sipped punch in a reception in our school library. Our kids have been decorating for a couple of weeks now.

The new citizens came from a wide variety of countries....China, Pakistan, South Korea, Mexico, Guatemala, Nigeria, Vietnam, Thailand, Syria, Trinidad and Tobago, Peru, Brazil, Germany, Canada, India, Bulgaria, Turkemenistan, Iran, Iraq, Czech Republic, and the United Kingdom. They had their families and friends with them and milled about nervously and excitedly. Twas to be a perfect morning ceremony. Right?

Not so fast. Cue "Mission Impossible" music. Aprroximately 40 minutes before the ceremony was to begin, the bell rang and classes changed. I went to my familiar hall duty post and my nostrils were assaulted by a peculiar odor. Kids were coughing going down the hall and covering their faces with their shirts. I asked one of the teachers, "what the hell is that smell?" The answer? Fart spray. Yes, fart spray. Some boys and taken it into the bathroom and sprayed it and then sprayed it out in the hall. The entire wing of the building smelled...well, like shit. In about fifteen classrooms students sat covering their faces. The middle school intelligence network gives me a couple of names.

I have them in my office, search them and their lockers, and they are the faces of innocence. Fart spray? Whatever could Mr. S. be talking about? Then they began to crack a bit. "Maybe I saw someone with it." "I held it for a few seconds but gave it to someone else." More students called in. Where is the damn fart spray? Fifteen minutes until showtime. The TV cameras are there and running in the auditorium already.

My nightmare? A few puffs of fart spray going off in the middle of the ceremony. The auditorium having to be cleared. Three federal judges running gagging from the room. Its THAT bad. I push the kids harder. Finally, one of the boys asks if he can talk to me privately. He gives me a name..the person he handed it to right before I scooped him up in my dragnet. I go to the auditorium. Cameras are whirling, the band is already playing patriotic tunes, and the honor guard is ready to march down front. I snag the kid and drag him into the hallway. "Where IS the fart spray?" He starts to deny everything and I stare at him. He says, "ok, but I hope my friend doesn't get in trouble. I gave it to him." Back in I go. Everyone is seated and I'm roaming the aisles in front of all our guests. There he is! I motion him to the side, get him outside and ask the question. Three minutes and counting. He gave it to someone else right before they got inside. WHO? He doesn't know his name. He and I go back in, walk the aisles again, and pull ANOTHER kid out. Bingo! The can is in my hand just as the court clerk opens the ceremony. Disaster averted.

End "Mission Impossible" theme.

They all crack quickly now that I have the can. In minutes I have the whole story. A suspension, some detentions, and some butt-chewings later, I go catch the ceremony. Its quite an impressive thing to watch. They take the oath of citizenship. They recite the Pledge of Allegiance for the first time as American citizens. They sing the national anthem for the first time as American citizens. A lot of eyes in the house are not even close to being dry. Mine is one of those.

So how is YOUR week going?
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There comes a time:

When you realize that what you've believed for a long time isn't true.

When you have to do what is right for yourself and your kids.

When you aren't even totally sure that it IS right, but believe that it is and have to push ahead anyway.

When you wish things were different but accept that they aren't.

When you have to make difficult choices and hope you are doing the right thing.

When you know the choices you make can affect others negatively and you hate that.

When you have to do it anyway.

When you understand how fully how the other person feels and know you would feel the same in their place.

When you feel guilty but relieved at the same time.

When you can' t just tread water another day.

When you have to face cold, hard facts and not just wave them away anymore.

When you own up to your weaknesses and your past mistakes and try to set a course to correct them for the future.

When you realize that failing doesn't make you a failure. It makes you human.

When you realize that isn't an excuse for failing over and over.

When you understand that your past irresponsibility has negative consequences.

When you for the first time let it settle in that perhaps it was never meant to be.

When you accept the past for what it was and not for what you glamorized it to be.

When you honor that past but promise yourself not to live in it.

When you understand that love means different things for different people.

When you realize that won't change.

When it dawns on you that the power to love is the power to hurt.

When you know you've given and received that hurt.

When you have to let things go that you've held on to so tightly.

When you try to accept yourself for the flawed, imperfect, person that you really are.

When you do that without beating the hell out of yourself on a regular basis.

When you want to FEEL again without applying a 20 point test to protect yourself.

When you want to build a life and not just maintain one.

When you want to dream again.

When you temper those dreams with the realities of your life.

When you can have smile on your face that is matched by a smile behind it.

When you are ready to take a chance or two.

When you really understand that your blessings overwhelm your curses if only you'll let them.

When there comes a time.
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My subject for the Monday history post was not a politician, a wealthy businessman, a military leader, a sports star, or a famous writer. But he was one of the most influential men of the 19th century. His name was Thomas Nast.

Nast's cartoons would help shape American culture, expose corrupt officials, and define urban life for millions. How could a cartoonist have such an impact?

Thomas Nast was born in 1847 in Landau, Germany. His mother came to the United States in 1846 with Thomas and his sister. His father was not able to join the family for several years. Enrolled in public schools, Thomas struggled with the English language, detested schoolwork, and was on the verge of flunking out of school before he entered puberty. There was one thing he loved and that was drawing. He drew all the time and was often in trouble with his teacher for drawing when he was supposed to be writing. He dropped out at age 12 and enrolled in art school, but financial problems would force him to leave school and attempt to find employment. This was difficult because he couldn't read or write.



Nast wanted to use his only marketable skill....art. Illustrator positions could be had at city newspapers, but these positions required a long internship before one could even be considered. Nast was turned down flat but didn't give up. He waited for the publisher's secretary to leave for a moment, walked boldly into the office and asked for a job. The publisher laughed, and just to get rid of him told Nast to go to a local ferry landing and draw the rush hour crowds. Nast returned the next day with a drawing that impressed the publisher enough to hire him on the spot. He would go to work for Frank Leslie at the Illustrated newspaper.

After being laid off, Nast accepted a position at Harper's Weekly, the leading weekly newspaper of the 19th century. After leaving briefly for the New York Illustrated News, Nast became a regular feature illustrator at Harper's, where his work would be viewed for over 20 years. He would have a profound impact on American culture and politics during that time.

Nast first became famous for his Christmas wood engravings. His wife read him Clement Moore's "Twas The Night Before Christmas", and he would use his imagination to create the Santa Claus we know today. Santa has appeared in many forms over the centuries, but it was Nast who would put it in the visual form that our kids delight at to this day. The fat, jolly, old elf, the reindeer, and the stockings were brought to life by Nast's work. He invented the concept of the North Pole and a hive of busy elves helping Santa prepare his toys for a Christmas Eve run. His version of Christmas became the accepted one for millions as he glamorized the holiday in a way that had never been done before.

Nast's version of Santa adorned store windows and displays. Newspaper and magazine advertisements used Santa to sell Christmas gifts. The practice of sending Christmas cards became commonplace. The holiday grew from a mainly religious one celebrated in local churches to a national one that was celebrated widely with a secular component added to the tradional relgious foundation. Among Nast's other Christmas ideas that caught on were the idea of bad children not receiving gifts and sending a letter to Santa at the North Pole. He also popularized the European concept of kissing under the mistletoe.



Much of the second half of the 19th century was chronicled in pictures under Nast's artist's pen. The Civil War. Railroads connecting the east and west coasts. Scandals and corruption. The industrialization of American cities. Poverty. The invention of the telephone and the light bulb. The birth of the labor movement. The explosion in immigration. The battle in the West between the U.S. Army and Native American tribes. Mega-millionaires such as John D. Rockefeller and Andrew Carnegie. Reconstruction in the South and the Jim Crow era that followed. All were fodder for Nast's engravings and sketches.

Nast has been known as "the man who brought down Tweed." William "Boss" Tweed was the leader of New York City's Tammany Hall political machine. He and his organization ran the city, grafting millions of dollars in bribes and kickbacks. No one got a job with the city, a construction contract, or a political appointment without Tweed getting a slice of the pie. Nast ran cartoon after cartoon showing a fat, corpulent Tweed crushing the city under the weight of corruption. Tweed famously asked Nast to stop with the pictures, saying, "I don't care what you write about my in the paper. My constitutents don't read but they can look at pictures." Tweed ended up in jail as Nast's crusade prompted officials to stop looking the other way.



In almost every election for thirty years Nast picked a presidential candidate to support and drew cartoons promoting the candidacy. His preferred candidate never lost. Nast created the "donkey" as the symbol of the Democratic party and the "elephant" as the symbol of the Republican party. Politicians scurried to gain his favor because one devastating Nast cartoon could sink a prospective officeholder's career. Now THAT is power.



After leaving Harper's Weekly Nast founded his own newspaper, Nast's Weekly, which he published for a few years. He continued his sketches and also got into oil painting and was often sought after by young artists and cartoonists eager to learn from the master of the craft.

He was appointed as the United States ambassador to Ecuador in 1902. While there he contracted yellow fever, a common killer of the time, and passed away a few months later.

Nast made a lasting impression on American culture that can be easily seen today. Who would've thought that small boy who stepped off the boat in New York could've wielded such influence and much such a difference in American life?
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Its been quite a few years since I've been to the fair, but so much seemed the same. We went in the same entrance I always did before. You walk in and the sights and smells are so familiar. Patrick and I battled with water bumper boats, the girls rode the merry-go-round, and "The Sizzler" made it a challenge to keep my dinner down. We munched popcorn, chatted with some of my students that we ran into, and perused the big stuffed animals at the midway games.

Some observations and happenings:

• The smoked turkey legs have been sold from the exact same spot since I was a child. I don't think I've ever seen anyone eat a smoked turkey leg anywhere but at the fair.
• The kids were grossed out by the booth that advertised "cheese curds on a stick". They quickly became known as "cheese turds on a stick". No one was brave enough to try them.
• They didn't think much of my offer to buy each of them a big plate of fried green tomatoes either. Kids, there is no pleasing them!
  
• Aubree loved the guy in the water cage who shouted insults at the baseball-throwing spectators who tried to dunk him. She thought it quite hilarious when he called one guy a, "twinky assed momma's boy" and another a "pimply faced drunken redneck".
  
• She wanted me to throw a ball or two at the guy but I declined. I don't think I'm fond of the idea of being called a, "chrome domed pansy ass" or something like that.
  
• My shoes got filled with water playing water bumper boats. If anyone tells you that you won't get wet on that ride? They lie!
• We enjoyed feasting on "elephant ears" and one of those lemonades with all the lemons floating around.
• We avoided the midway games. Too pricy, too cheesy, and lousy odds of winning anything. I told the kids I'd be better off taking them to the store and buying them something than spending $30 to win a $5 stuffed animal.
• Going to the fair when you don't have much money to spend is a creative challenge. The whole enterprise is like a big money-sucking machine, the G-rated equivalent of a strip club. High priced food and drink. Ridiculously priced games. A three minute ride that costs the equivalent of a fast food meal.
  
• As mentioned above I ran into several of my students. They acted surprised that I would be at the fair. Kids sometimes think I must live in that school.
• When we were ready to go we had two ride coupons left. There were no rides that took any fewer than three coupons, so my mom said, "I'll just give these two to someone." She turned around and there was a guy standing with his family only a few feet away. She walked over, tapped him on the shoulder, and the next thing I know they are hugging. He turned out to be one of my brother's best friends, a kid that spent half his childhood at our house.
  
• I looked at a 2006 Mustang convertible in one of the exhibit halls. *Sigh* One of these days.
• I was reminded of going many years ago with friends to this fair and being teased unmercifully because the "lady with 1000 tatoos" kept staring and winking at me. I wonder how many tatoos she's up to now?
  
• Aubree got tired and wanted to ride on my shoulders like she did when she was younger. She is getting too big for it now! Ten minutes and my shoulders are killing me.
• Aubree insisted that she had to see the gigantic pig. Who can resist a 1200 pound porker? Only a dollar and you walk up the stairs and are allowed to peek into his pen. She came back down talking about how big and cute he was. I made a remark about all the bacon and pork ribs that could come from a pig like that. She said, "hush Dad, he's too cute for that!"
• Then there were the two guys standing out in the midway holding two parrots. They caught Patrick's attention, let him pet the bird, and placed the very compliant parrot on his shoulder. The girls had to get into the act too of course. The other guy whips out his Polaroid camera and offers to take their picture for only eight dollars. Had to pass on that one.
• I like ferris wheels and roller coasters, but none of the kids wanted to ride one with me. I tried to bribe them but to no avail. Party poopers!
  
• I saw a lot of people pushing strollers, changing diapers, and comforting babies. I was glad I wasn't them.
• I made the long trek to get the car while everyone waited by the entrance. Why does it seem like the walk is so much longer when you're going back to your car?

A good time was had by all. Maybe next year we'll make it over to the petting zoo.
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It’s a little later than usual and perhaps a little shorter, but I’m proud to present some excellent posts for your perusal.

Sarah had her church singing debut. Penny had a snowstorm.

Lil Bit answers some questions about her blog. Restless Angel does the same.

Mona discusses things greater than ourselves. Vickie discusses the road not taken.

Stacey is preparing a feast to break her period of fasting. Phoenix is feeling depressed.

Colleen focuses on having a focus. Chrissy was focusing on “hormonal hell”.

Breazy wondered if someone had put a curse on her. Irina wondered if the U.N. youth conference was anything more than platitudes.

Dawn was up early and her husband was at a NASCAR race. Hillbilly Mom was answering her student’s questions.

Buffi pays tribute to a blog friend. Bsoholic pays tribute to pilots of another era.

Lime wonders if her real life experiences would make good thesis topics. T. Marie wonders what her fortune cookie meant.

Stephanie has been crying quite a bit. Veronica has been trying to pamper herself during her bout with the flu.

Trick hates furniture shopping. Carol hates high utility bills.
Darla lets pictures tell the tale. Seshat lets a picture describe her feelings for her husband.

Karen has a romantic dream. (scroll to “Just One”) Kyra is having a romantic weekend.

SonSon is going to learn how to knit. Leslie is going to college if she could find a way to pay out-of-state tuition.

Keb wishes her husband a happy birthday! DL wishes her husband would stop patting her on the ass.

Janine thinks her visitors were being deceptive. Walker thinks that Thanksgiving is upon us.

Lewis waxes nostalgic about his beloved jeep. Greek Shadow waxes nostalgic about one of his college professors.

Thomai notes that being a parent can be frustrating. Dwayne notes his 7000th visitor.

Scorpy has Georgia on her mind. Kris had music in her ears after attending three concerts.

Tish thinks she could be on the Supreme Court. Ellen thinks its great fun to watch the animal cam.

Feisty Girl had a headache. Joe had the perfect song.

Monica didn’t name her daughter after a hooker. Honest. E didn’t mean to stand someone up.

New Wave Gurly is scared of the word “love”. Margaret is turned off by hypocrisy.

Sleeping Mommy is celebrating her blogiversary. Angel is struggling with some questions.

John thinks New Orleans’ pulse is showing signs of life. Chosha thinks parents should be consistent with their children.

Mel had a pamper party. Andie is going to have fun playing a drinking game.

Steph reports on a man jumping off of a bridge. Amerloc reports on blogs that don’t like Hotmail addresses.

Joan is gearing up for winter. Susan doesn’t have to gear up too much to sing karaoke.

Mary Lou strolls down memory lane. Pauly has a hard time with his memory when it comes to seven digit numbers.

Stationery Queen is wondering. The Funky Cowboy is telling a funny story.

Grace has been working more. Mercy has been having dreams.

Lack of ambition makes Safiyyah angry. An jerky ex husband makes Snow angry.

The Real Me keeps replaying a conversation in her head. Pearl doesn’t want to replay her eye injury.

Jack plans to have a conversation with his grandfather. Annabel had a conversation that was very interesting.

ChickyBabe has some answers. Kathy has some great pictures of what looks like a great time!

Pat was baking a cake. Teresa was enjoying autumn.

Inky shares some odd things about herself. Gentleheart shares a connection with another writer.

Trick doesn’t care for spiders. Aka Monty doesn’t care for mowing her lawn.

Shirazi has some thoughts on the online community. Redneck Diva has some whiny thoughts.

Give’em some love. They sure deserve it.

Hey everyone? Have a wonderful weekend!
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The weekend roundup will be posted tomorrow dut to my attendance at the Tulsa State Fair. The kids and I are putting on our jackets, picking up my mom and niece, and heading out for an evening at the fair. It should be a lot of fun!

I haven't been to this fair in a long time. It used to be an annual thing when I was a kid. My dad would take us, my mom would take the night off, and he would always end up losing one of us. Hopefully, I'll have better luck!

Enjoy your Friday evening!
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Yes, I know its not Wednesday, but I'm writing my midweek post today!

Thank you to all who joined my "party" for the last couple of days. I am humbled and gratified by the huge response. Even if you toss out my comments the comment record for any post I've ever written was shattered easily! You just made my day!

Aubree insisted that I take her school fundraiser catalog to my work to try and sell Christmas decorations. Its a good cause, but I tried to explain to her that school people are really hard to hit up for things like this. Our school has its own fundraisers. The staff's kids have their own school fundraisers. Not much left for someone else's kid and their desire to win cool prizes. Still, I will try!

You know how I've been complaining about the heat for what seems like forever? It was chilly today! Overcast, windy, and cold, I was slightly chilled doing lunch duty. I may even have to turn on my heater for the first time this evening. I think I just had the air conditioner on just a day or two ago.

Stink bombs. Yes, stink bombs! A middle school student set off a stink bomb in class a couple of days ago. This happens every year when the state fair comes to town. A vendor or two at the fair sells these tiny little glass stinkbombs. You throw it down on the floor, the glass breaks, and the whole room stinks for hours. This particular kid got the stinkbomb from someone else at lunch and tossed it on the floor of his science class at the beginning of the day's last class period. The two boys ended up in my office, the class had to be moved, and two kids went to the nurse...one complaining of a headache and another with asthma problems.

The central office sends out one of their employees out to our school to shadow the administrators for a day. This gentleman spent the day with my colleague and I, watching us work with kids, do lunch duty, and handle a variety of problems. At the end of the day he said, "I had no idea. We don't have to work with kids over at the service center. I can't believe what you guys do." True enough! Teachers sometimes note that a principal hasn't been in the classroom in many years. Principals note the same thing about central office people. Some of the people making the big money and big decisions haven't worked directly with students in over 20 years. Its all about perspective, isn't it?

My school is hosting an immigration and naturalization ceremony next week. About 70 people will receive their American citizenship in our school auditorium. A federal judge will actually set up shop on our stage. The kids have been decorating and the band and chorus are preparing tributes to our newest citizens. We did this last year and it was way cool!

Aubree called me from her friend's grandparent's house last weekend. She told me that she had been riding on the back of a four wheeler. I said, "WHAT? You wouldn't ride on the back of one of those with me, but you'll ride with someone else? Don't you trust me?" Her reply? "Dad, I trust you about a lot of things but you like to drive too fast!"

A student approached me today and said, "Mr. S, I've never seen you wear a tuxedo before!" (I was wearing a black Italian silk suit). I explained that it wasn't a tuxedo and told him what a tuxedo actually was. He took it all in, nodded, and said, "to me its still a tuxedo!"

So how is YOUR week going?
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We're having a party here for the next day or two. C'mon in and join the fun! The beverage of your choice is right over there. Maybe I should call Walker and ask if he can bring some of his culinary specialties. Make yourself comfortable. Tell a few jokes. Grab a partner and dance to the music. Flirt all you want but try not to get into too much trouble. Not familiar here? Grab a name tag and post a comment. I don't normally respond in comments here, but on this occasion I will respond to each and every one.

Today marks my second blogiversary. I have been posting here almost daily for 730 days. Over 800 posts later I still come here and pour myself into this little corner of the internet world. I've received over 6000 comments and have received over 100,000 visitors from every corner of the globe. Those numbers boggle my mind. In my wildest dreams I never imagined that it would be like this when I started blogging.

I was a news addict and there were articles about blogging that I came across from time to time. I started a blog once, posted a few times, and let it die. I started up again two years ago and my expectations couldn't have been lower. I'd indulge that part of me that wanted to be a journalist or a writer. I'd link to an article here or there, write a few witty sentences, and move on. At best, my blog was a distant choice from my wife, kids, online gaming, web browsing, schoolwork, and most other things. I amused myself with the notion that I was some kind of journalist, poet, or writer. I thought I'd have some fun with it for a few weeks and then move on to other things. After all, I didn't really have much to say.

Then my world came crashing down on me. I sat crying alone in front of my computer trying to find something to ease my anguish for the moment. Something. Anything. I wrote this post while I was literally sobbing and at perhaps the lowest point in my life. I'd never done anything like that before. I'd never opened myself up to strangers that way. But writing seemed to put a small salve on a gaping wound. This began a transformation that I still feel like I'm going through. I was for once in my life going to let it all hang out. My blog went from a trivial hobby to self therapy. I wanted to write it all as I was feeling it. Blogging wouldn't solve my problems, but it was an exercise in trying to make sense of it all.

When the rest of my world was in tatters all around me I could come here. Sometimes I would think I just want to write about it and then delete it. Most of the time I would end up holding my breath and clicking "publish". Guess what? The world didn't come to an end when Brian opened himself up. I wrote and wrote some more. This place became a part of me.

What I didn't expect was the community of people I came to know. People from all over the country and all over the world. I knew that people commented on each other's blogs. But I didn't realize how relationships would form, friendships would blossom, and how many of us would grow to respect and love each other. We become invested in each other's lives. We listen, we give advice, a shoulder to cry on, and a place to lean on. We celebrate each other's triumphs and share in each other's joys. I learned that I wasn't the only one out there struggling. I learned how much we all have in common. Black or white, married or single, straight or gay, rich or poor, we share so many of the same triumphs and anxieties. I've grown to care about many of you who come here to read my daily musings and observations.

Let me wander around the room, tell some of my story, and point out some of my friends.

Its not all been serious of course. What fun I've had! I had my first blog crush on the lovely Faith and grew to regard her as a dear friend. I've bantered with long time readers like Dawn, Ellen, Mary Lou, Phyllis, Leslie, Brenda, Flax, Ginger, Steph, Kim, Stationery Queen, and John. I've giggled at the wit of Aka Monty and was privileged to meet her and enjoy some laughter and fun. I had a reunion with long-time friend Kathy and she is still a treasure to me. I was lucky enough to become friends with the ultra-talented Jen. I've cheered at a college football game with my good friend Steph. Love ya kid. I've had margaritas with the very gifted Leslie. She cheers for the wrong football team, doesn't make real chilli, and can't hold her wine, but I very much enjoyed the time I spent with Monica. I've partied and played pool with Scorpy and had a blast!

After one year things just picked up steam. I disciplined myself to write something almost every day, even if I didn't publish it. I continued to make friends and expand my horizons. I marveled at the writing ability of an Edge, chuckled at the irrepressible Joan, and flirted shamelessly with hotties like Karen and T. Marie. I talked about appletinis with Redneck Diva. Seeya at the blog awards next year! I was thrilled to receive and read Sally's book. My blog got a makeover from Ginger. I formed special friendships with New Wave Gurly , she of the great voice and quick wit, and Lisa, Canada's #1 export. They mean a lot to me. I came to love and admire Vickie, who is a living definition of passion and inspiration. I teased with Chaotic Serenity and was titillated by Bored Housewife. I came to admire and envy blog couples like Chuck and Stephanie and Walker and Lisa. I marvel at the grace and wit of Sue. Reading her blog is like a refreshing swim.

If you weren't inspired by Laine's love story you just haven't read it. If the passion and sexuality of Fly Girl doesn't grab you, I need to check your pulse. If my blog brother Joe's poetry with words doesn't inspire you, we need to talk. If DL's honest portrayals of the struggles of every day life don't resonate, you live a much different life than I do. I dare anyone to read Jack for a few days and not have two things happen: You will learn something and you will laugh. Want to really know what marital love is all about? If you do, you must read Kyra and read her often. Want to see an example of class and great writing? Like I do, you should read Babs often. Need to read someone who takes life's punches and keeps on coming back? You should read Inky. Need a dose of raw honesty and angst? You should get to know Seshat. Want to see a relationship grow before your eyes? You should read the saucy Lu. Just be warned, she'll suck you into her loaded questions game and she is hard to say no to! If Paul doesn't make you spew your drink at least once, you aren't reading him closely enough.

I've shared life's ups and downs with Janine. I've commiserated about life with Darla. Thanks darlin...you're the best. I've played drunken commenting with Bec. I came to deeply admire Saffiyah. The world needs more people like her. I've watched Sleeping Mommy display her writing talent and her outlook on life. I've enjoyed the wit of Trucker Bob. I've shared a love of sappy, romantic music with Stacey. I read Annabel Lee's dating adventures and empathized with her about the single life. I've chatted with Carol and wanted to scream, "YES. THATS IT! You're saying what I'm trying to say." I'm profoundly grateful for my friendship with her. If they ever make a play about my life, I want Nameless to direct it. Feisty Girl always seems to live up to her name. Susan can brighten my day with tales and pictures from Canada.

I've come to love and respect Veronica, a talented artist and marvelous human being. I've found myself in awe of Thomai, a beautiful woman who makes me think and challenge previously held assumptions. I've read Sallie and thought to myself, "this is someone who REALLY understands a lot of what I'm going through." I've found myself wondering what Chosha's voice sounds like. Her blog always puts a smile on my face. I've thought that I'd love to spend an evening over drinks with Splendid just talking about life. To give proper credit, my subheader, "an enigma wrapped up in a tie" comes from her. I've wondered if Stephanie or Stephanie would have the patience to teach me how to dance. I've seen Simply Satisfied fight for a cause she believes in. Her every post absolutely oozes passion for life and the pleasure and pain that goes with it. You may agree or disagree with Wanda, but you always know where she stands. I like that. I've watched Grace and Red Headed Gal try to change their lives and admired their courage. I've also admired Teresa, a really cool single mom who doesn't let life keep her down for long. Who couldn't possibly enjoy reading Lewis, a former attorney who has a thing about keys?

I've only recently come to know Lime, a new blogger with an outlook on life that makes me smile. I always have to put on my thinking cap when I go visit Irina. I've very much enjoyed reading Lil Bit, a funny and flirty girl who always says what is on her mind. I'm quickly growing to appreciate Mercy, even if she does post pictures of me! ;) When I need a good laugh I go visit Bsoholic who never disappoints with his wit and his camera. When I think of the beach I can't help but think about Chrissy. The picture on her blog is a favorite of mine. E is a recent addition to my blog reading and I absolutely love the way she writes. The Funky Cowboy's picture themed posts never fail to amuse, and I enjoy the way he looks at the world. The poignancy of Rachel's writing sometimes takes my breath away. Muse's words tell her story in a way that makes me envious of her talent. I'm thankful for Okie Doke and his attempts to build the community of bloggers in my state. I like reading NYOkie Sue, who blogs away not far from where I am. I've enjoyed every single word that Phoenix has written, and I consider her a true friend. I'll some day be able to say that I knew Tisha and Jennifer before they became rich and famous. Maybe I should ask for their autograph now and bank it for the inevitable Ebay auction.

Christine has shown with humor and superb writing why its important to be careful when you pick your mate. Buffi has shown what a cool mom and woman is like when she faces life with humor, grace, and a smile. Chicky Babe shows what happens when you place a keyboard in front of a talented writer who says with wit what many of us struggle to say at all. Jazzy shows me a lot about how to face life in all of its imperfection. SonSon shows me a window into her life and I always enjoy the peek. Mystic shows that its possible for the same person to inspire you, make you reflect, turn you on, and put a smile on your face. Shirazi shows that the blog revolution is touching every corner of the globe and he continues to spread its gospel. Prince Charming shows the challenges that those of us who have gone through a divorce and entered the single world face.

I STILL like the picture on Diana's blog and think of her as one of the most gifted bloggers I've ever read. I STILL treasure my friendship with the lovely Shelli who has been reading me here since the early days. I STILL like peeking in on the ever bubbly, now pregnant Sweety, who commented here while I was still losing my blog virginity. I STILL like visiting Melanie. You never know what she's going to say! I STILL love going by and seeing Maddy and being exposed to some of the most gut-wrenching, emotional writing you'll find anywhere. I STILL love reading Breazy and her humorous take on life. I've been reading Christine for over a year and STILL love the way her words jump off the screen and grab me.

Maybe I've had too many margaritas, but I think I'd like to start my own school one of these days and work with Ginger, Margaret, Cindra, Erin, Penny, Greek Shadow, Janet, Michelle, and Cyn. Now thats what I call an all-star faculty. I'd try to lure Amerloc back into the classroom for a last hurrah. Trusty Getto could be the president of the school board and keep me in line. Just think of all the fun we'd have!

Just when I think I've found all the good ones, people like Pearl, Michelle, The Real Me, and Keb come along and spark my interest. The web expands and grows and I'm exposed to more quality writing, new friends, and new inspiration.

Bloggers have come and gone during my two years out here. I don't see much of Veda, who turns song lyrics into poetry. I wonder what ever happened to Didamo. I always enjoyed Charkey and was sorry to see her go. Jen doesn't blog anymore, but her site is still up. I can't help but stop by and visit sometimes, even though I know there won't be anything new.

If I missed mentioning someone, please excuse me. I assure you its not purposeful. Blame it on the margaritas! Come over here and I'll buy you a drink and make it up to you!

Hey everyone? I'd like to step up on a table and have a word with you all. Grab a glass and join me in a toast?

I want you all to know what you've meant to me in the past two years. Some of you have been here most of that time and others are recent arrivals. But you've joined with me to form this community. You've helped me get my head on straight when my thinking has gone askew. You've supported me when things were going badly. You've taught me things I never knew. You've inspired me to be a better person. You've showed me courage and strength. You've been there for me time and time again.

I saw another blogger use this once, and in the finest blogging tradition I want to swipe it for this occasion. The immortal Louis Armstrong's song "What A Wonderful World" has these lyrics.

The colours of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people going by
I see friends shakin' hands, sayin' "How do you do?"
They're really saying "I love you"

Two years and going strong. I just want to say to everyone....how do you do?

*Clink*
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Its Monday, and therefore its time to talk about history. I chose for this week's post a slave who wanted to be free.

His name was Dred Scott, born into slavery in Virginia in 1799. As was the common practice, he never learned to read and write. He was the property of the Blow family and spent his early life working on the family's plantation.

The United States purchased a huge swath of land from France in 1803, land that today makes up much of the central part of the United States. The question of slavery was instantly controversial. Would slavery be extended to America's new territories or would it continue to be restricted to the South? A huge debate ensued in Congress and the threat of southern secession was brought into the national dialog.

The Missouri Compromise admitted the state of Missouri as a slave state, Maine as a free state, and drew a line across the nation at the 36' 30 parallel. Slavery would be permitted south of that line and illegal above it. The nation breathed a sigh of relief as civil war was temporarily averted.

The Blow family joined the great western migration, moving to St. Louis in 1830. Scott moved with the family and was sold to John Emerson, a military officer stationed in St. Louis. Over the years Scott would follow Emerson from post to post, serving as his personal slave and servant. During this time Emerson was posted in Illinois and Wisconsin, both free states. Scott was allowed to marry Harriet and they would have two children. Emerson returned to St. Louis with his slave and passes away in 1843. Mrs. Emerson hires Scott and his family out as slaves to other families in the area.

Scott decided to take Mrs. Emerson to court and sue for his freedom. Through an attorney he filed a lawsuit in the federal court of St. Louis. His claim? Since he had lived for years in territory defined as "free" that he had ceased to be a slave. Once in a state of freedom he could not be returned to a state of slavery. This was a terribly risky move for a slave to make. If he lost he could be sold to anyone, his family could be completely split up, and he would be open to retaliation for daring to challenge the system.

Scott lost his first case, refiled it, and a jury ruled in 1850 that Scott was a free man. Mrs. Emerson appealed to the state supreme court which ruled in her favor. Scott's attorneys took his case to the United States Supreme Court. A nation awaited its ruling. The stakes were high on all sides. A winning verdict for Scott would take thousands of slaves into a state of freedom and would prevent the spread of slavery. A losing verdict would make it very difficult to stop slavery's expansion.

In one of the most studied and infamous decisions in its history, the Supreme Court ruled against Scott in 1856. The court stated that Scott had always been a slave and was regarded as personal property of his owner. Property cannot file lawsuits, and he had no right to even be in court. Chief Justice Roger Taney wrote that as a black man:

"had no rights which the white man was bound to respect; and that the negro might justly and lawfully be reduced to slavery for his benefit. He was bought and sold and treated as an ordinary article of merchandise and traffic, whenever profit could be made by it."

The court also ripped apart the compromises reached in 1820 and 1850. It ruled that Congress had no right to restrict slave owners from taking their slaves anywhere they liked. A slave owner could take their "property" into free territory and keep them there in a state of slavery. The concept of a "free state" was wiped away. No longer could northerners ignore slavery as something that went on "down there". The court's ruling prevented any more "compromises" from being reached and is regarded as one of the most important events that hurtled the nation into Civil War.

The story does have something of a good ending. Remember the Blow family that Scott was born into? He grew up as childhood friends of the Blow children. As adults they helped fund his legal fees, and after he lost his case they purchased him from Mrs. Emerson. Once they owned him again they gave he and his family their freedom.

Scott lived the final year of his life as a free man before dying of tuberculosis in 1858. He was buried in St. Louis, never living to see the national abolishment of slavery that would occur a few years after his passing.

That same year an Illinois lawyer would refer to his court case in a Senate debate. He would note that, "this nation cannot endure half slave and half free. We will become all of one thing or all of the other." Two years later Abraham Lincoln would be elected president of the United States and a long, bloody civil war would free millions of slaves.

Who could've thought that a man born into slavery could have had such a dramatic impact on the history of a nation? That a mere slave would have his case argued in the highest court in the land? That his cause would help set forth a chain of events that would free millions of his fellow slaves? That his simple desire to be free would be a long sound on freedom's clarion?
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"You bitch", screamed the irate mother minutes after I arrived at work. Clutching a baby in her arms she tried to struggle to get past the female teachers to get at the object of her anger. Cursing and screaming she tried to maneuver around the teachers until I arrived to stand in her path. I took me a few moments to register who she was so angry at that she would try to assault her while clutching an infant in her arms. She was going after a 13 year old female student.

She tried to tell me about it, standing there in the hall, still screaming and cursing. I kept saying, "we need to talk about this in my office", gently guiding her there. She burst into tears once inside, telling me the story of why she was so angry. Her daughter and this other girl have been having words. Neighborhood arguments and phone calls. Calling each other names. Making accusations about who was having sex with who. The two mothers cursing each other over the phone and cursing at each other's daughters. This mother was going to whip this girl herself to "put a stop to it."

I told her she was a hair away from going to jail. Had she managed to lay one finger on that girl, the police would've been called and she would've been charged with assault on a minor. Is this what she wanted? She replied, "no, but this other girl has made my daughter cry for the last time.". I said, "I think your daughter would cry more if she had to see you during visiting hours."

It didn't take long for word to spread. Another student whipped out her cell phone and called the other girl's mother to let her know of what happened. Mom #2 was at school in minutes, screaming and cursing at one of my colleagues in the parking lot while I was calming mom #1. Mom #2 has been known for this kind of behavior herself. Last year she threatened to "kick the ass" of another girl her daughter had been suspended for assaulting. Quite a pair, these two ladies. We sent both girls home along with the girl who made the cell phone call.

Last year at a different middle school in my district a mother came to eat lunch with her daughter. Her daughter had words with another student and the mother held the other girl's arms behind her back while her daughter beat her savagely. She went to jail and is awaiting trial.

I'm seeing this more and more. Parents should be involved in their kid's lives and stand up for them when they need it. But the kids don't need another buddy to "back them up" and go after their enemies. My daughter has come home from school upset about what other girls have said to her. I could not in my wildest dreams imagine confronting the other girl. Its a terrible idea to inject yourself into your kids' relationships at that level. Aubree and I have spent hours discussing what she should do when other kids are "mean" to her.

This mom and the others I see are teaching their children that violence is the only way to solve their problems. How could this mom ever discipline her daughter again for this kind of behavior? Mom #2, mentioned above, stopped other kids and adults from pulling her daughter off of another child so that she could beat her up some more. The savageness of what happened and the mom's attitude led me to suspend her daughter for 45 days for an incident that happened off campus. (Yes, we can do that but don't very often). Honestly, sometimes the child is more mature than the parent. Isn't that sad?

There is another mom I'm thinking of who is always in the parking lot after school. Her daughter and friends swarm around her. I stood and watched one day as she flirted shamelessly with middle school boys. She ran her fingers slowly across a teenaged boys chest and said, "you're going to be something else when you grow some hair here." Her daughter and other girls standing there watching the whole thing. She wanted to BE one of them, one of the kids.

The baby that mom #1 clutched to her chest was not hers. It was her daughter's. Her 7th grade daughter's. One of the roots of this girl spat? A fight over a 16 year old boy, the father of the child. Both mothers WANTED their daughters to be able to see this boy and for the other girl to leave him alone. What a great reason to come to school and make an ass out of yourself.

Kids need parents. Not "homies". Not buddies. Not fighting partners. They need parents who will help them learn to deal with conflict. Its not easy being a kid in this day and time, and its even more difficult when your parents get confused about what their role is. This doesn't mean you shouldn't be involved or that you should ignore things that are upsetting your child. All of us hurt when our kids hurt. All of us want their path to be smooth.

We'll have a meeting sometime next week with the two mothers and our resource police officer. We'll discuss the situation and hopefully come at least to a temporary resolution. What I really want to tell both of these women is, "GROW UP! Be a parent. Help your daughters learn to deal with this now because its not the last time they'll face conflict in their lives. They need your help, not your right hook. Just GROW UP!"
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The roundup is here a bit later than usual. Last night was a stormy night in Oklahoma. Booming thunder, spectacular lightning, and pouring rain made up Friday evening. I chose to turn the computer off. This ended up being the first storm in awhile that DIDN'T knock out my power for awhile. It was also storming quite a bit this morning.

But here it is! I turn the spotlight on some of my favorite posts this week. Enjoy!

T. Marie observes that small touches can make the plain into the delectable. Joe observes that a lot of people won’t look into your eyes.

Penny had a birthday. ChickyBabe had a blog vacation, but now she’s back!

Irina reflects on her experience as an immigrant. Great post. Colleen reflects on her feelings about the fall.

Janine has to make a financial decision. Vickie has some thoughts on wishes.

SonSon’s daughter had to let her grasshopper go. Lu’s daughter had a birthday.

Buffi had to channel her pioneer spirit. Karen is channeling some of her mother’s traits. (scroll to “I’ll Never Be Like Her”)

Breazy shares 101 things about herself. Chrissy shares what she is most proud of and most embarrassed by.

Keb has that homesick feeling. Mystic has that submissive feeling.

Veronica loves to play “dress up”. Dawn loves her brother’s hand-me-downs.

Splendid gives here thoughts on utopia. Thomai gives her thoughts on dance auditions.

Stephanie shares some things about herself. Inky shares her thoughts on “The Butterfly Effect”.

Monica pays tribute to a special friend. Steel Cowboy pays tribute to a fellow biker.

Aka Monty had a flashback. Stacey had a husband in a great deal of pain.

Lewis is going to the Gulf to offer his help. Teresa is going to homecoming.

Hillbilly Mom gives us a glimpse into her office politics. Lil Bit gives us a glimpse of her eyes.

Mercy is wondering how to spend her vacation. New Wave Gurly wonders about loneliness.

Christine vents about her first husband. Amerloc vents about a Texas politician.

Roselle equates rain and sex. Joan equates this weekend with…drum roll….her birthday!

E’s mom tries to make her feel guilty. Lime’s son tries to climb into bed with her.

Rachel ponders her faith. Carol ponders her thoughts on grief.

Chaotic Serenity meets a disembodied voice. The Funky Cowboy meets his weight issue head-on.

Chosha reports on a girl who copied an entire “Harry Potter” book…by hand! Margaret reports on her daughter’s college experience.

Seshat’s husband secretly recorded her. You might want to record Jack’s song list.

Angel shares what makes her cry. Cindra shares the “Senility Prayer”.

Jennifer wants to be involved again in foreign student exchanges. Susan wants more moments like this with her sister.

What makes us who we are? Ask Pearl. What makes a stunning picture? Look at this one from Bec.

Gentleheart talks about the orgasmatron. DL talks about her home and the seasons.

Greek Shadow gave a test on ancient Rome. Erin has been substitute teaching a lot.

Sleeping Mommy answers a few questions. Trick answers the question: what does she already have done?

The Real Me wants to be in control. Sarah wants to keep her pharmacist under her spell.

Stationery Queen still feels like a newlywed. Kathy felt like celebrating a special girl’s birthday!

Maddy is thinking about a storm. Redneck Diva was thinking about shower mildew.

Restless Angel tried Indian food. Steph tried posting without a title.

NYOkie Sue is focusing on health, teeth, and fine running machines. Tisha is focusing on penile enlargement.

Babs wonders about blogging and real life friendship. Walker wonders about having a “last hoopla” before quitting something.

Faith has been losing weight without trying. Sara has been trying to replace a lost hubcap.

Darla was thinking about how someone can lie straight to your face. Frani was thinking about sleep thieves.

Stephanie tells a funny story about McDonalds.Trucker Bob shares a funny picture.

Stop by and spread the love a little. I'll appreciate it and I'm sure they will too.

Have a marvelous weekend my friends. Y'all rock!
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