1000 Things I Hate: #6

#6. WAL-MART, A.K.A. SATAN'S ANUS

     Cameron and I went shopping last night. I only needed about 10 things, so I mistakenly decided to go to Wal-mart for a "quick in-and-out." (Yes, apparently I have early onset dementia.) There were a few red flags that I threw aside haphazardly. 
 

#1) I found a parking spot close to the door. We all know that feeling of triumph as we pull into one of those coveted spots designed to keep fat people fatter and to make the entitled feel like they have claimed their rightful throne in the Kingdom of Rejects.
 

#2) Upon walking into the checkout area, I notice that there are no less than TEN self-checkout stations open. All are currently at capacity and hold lines of approximately 10 people each. Also, these stations are being 'managed' by a girl who clearly didn't drive to work, as it is illegal for 14 year olds to drive in Tennessee. (Yes, nit-pickers, she could've had a hardship license.... STAY FOCUSED!)
 

#3) The other checkout lines were AT LEAST 10 people long; ALL with full buggies! Oh, I nearly forgot to mention: When I said "other checkout lines," this means BOTH of the other checkout lines... Yes, two of them. On a Saturday night. In Cleveland.

This list could go on for another hour... nearly as long as my in-and-out took. I only got 12 things, people! I waited for 22 minutes for TWELVE ITEMS. I have spared you the details of the fashionably challenged, the socially troubled, and the parents who failed to give their children any hope for being functional parts of a society. With that, I will say, "I HATE YOU, SAM WALTON".... and leave you with a few representations of my visit that are eerily similar to my experience.

 

1000 Things I Hate: #5

#5. PEOPLE WHO USE KID LEASHES BECAUSE THEY ARE      CRAP PARENTS WHO SHOULD'VE JUST HAD DOGS

Let's just get something out of the way: If you use a leash to control your kid, or your vicious pack of wild children, then this may or may not be a good read for you. Please don't try to give me a good reason for why you do it. "But, Derrick! It's just so stressful when we go out in public!" "I'm just afraid that my kid may spontaneously run out into traffic!" Well, to you, Madam, I say, perhaps Darwin was onto something...


<------   Check out this uber example of douchebaggery to your left. "Life is sooo hectic. I mean, how could I ever walk my dog AND take my kid out... while I'm trying to order takeout? You can't expect me to make a phone call, walk my dog, AND pay attention to my kid all at the same time, do you?" No. No I do not, you cerebrally-challenged wad of incompetence. What I do expect is you to prioritize you life starting with leaving the damned dog at home, get off your fucking cell phone, and pay attention to your kid. I understand you probably went through the drunken trouble of all of 4.5 minutes to create that life, but it's here now and you are expected to be some kind of responsible for it.

Seriously, I know it's a hard-line stance here, but it just takes some common sense. Nearly every single person I see using these damned things are people who are too self-important, too concerned with what THEY, and not their child, are doing, or people who are just too lazy to put forth any effort to paying attention to their kids. Like the two winners posted below.
NOTE: These picture were not taken at or near a local Wal-Mart, but I couldn't argue a case that they were near one.

My point for this being a "Thing That I Hate" is this; kids are beings who need to be shown attention. By attention, I am not talking about the whoring, goin' clubbin' every night to find a hook-up, my-daddy-didn't-love-me attention that some of their parents need. I'm talking about attention that goes into explaining life's intricacies. Kids do not know until they are told. Take some time to tell them WHY you always say "please" and "thank you." Tell them HOW the magic doors open at the grocery store without having to use a handle or push a button! Talk to them about WHERE they would like to go, whether it be the zoo, or McDonald's, or a visit to Papaw and Granny's house. Discuss a time WHEN you made a mistake, recognized it, and corrected it (hopefully, it was that time you read this and decided to take off the leash that you had on them). And most importantly, talk to them about WHO they want to be when they grow up, not what they want to be. Being a compassionate, caring, loving, helpful, and responsible person is far more important than just letting them tell you they want to be a fireman. (That's a blog for another time.) Don't say I didn't warn you. One day you may be the next internet meme:

 

 

1000 Things I Hate: #4

#4. PEOPLE WHO CAN'T UNDERSTAND HOW TO USE THERE, THEIR, THEY'RE

We all know that person who is completely incapable of using the words they're, their, and there correctly. If you don't know anyone like this, then YOU are the friend who can't use it correctly. (Sorry.) It really is one of the most annoying things I see. I debated about ranting on this because I have a lot of friends who do this. However, I have a few who don't hesitate to call me out on my misuse of the language (I'm eyeballing you, Jim Davis), so I decided to move forward.

I actually get angry when it happens. It's an easy thing to remember. I mean, where the hell were these people during English class when teachers were going over this?



I'm gonna break it down so that you can share this with your friends who apparently were eating glue and shoving crayons up THEIR noses while THEIR teachers were trying to get this across in third grade.

RULE #1: See the orange highlights? That is the appropriate use of the word THEIR. When using the spelling THEIR, it is in reference to something that belongs to someone else; it is THEIRS. This is the toughest of the rules to learn, admittedly. That being said, I taught this to 3rd graders with very little issue. People who choose not to learn this rule, should have THEIR ability to type, text, and write horribly mangled love notes to THEIR significant other taken away from them.

RULE #2: This is an easy one. THERE is a reference to a location, place, or state of being. "I parked my car over THERE." "We'll see you THERE." "THERE are some things we need to talk about." An easy way to tell your friends about this one is that the word HERE is hidden in it! Ooooo! Aaahhh! Here AND there are places. So, use the word that has HERE hidden in it when referring to a place.

RULE #3: THEY'RE gonna love you for teaching them how to use this awesome contraction! THEY'RE is a contraction that brings together and shortens the two words "THEY ARE." The easiest to learn is THEY'RE. When your friend wants to use this word, make sure they break it down and see if it makes sense. "THEY'RE asleep during language class" can be translated as "THEY ARE asleep during language class." If it works, you've got it!


I know what you're thinking; "Man, Derrick is being a dick about
this." Absolutely. Ignorance, I can forgive. Stupidity, I can't. Knowing the basics of your own language is a must. We are the only major, industrialized country that doesn't have a national language. It's ridiculous (and another topic for another day). That being
said, it doesn't give people the excuse to look like fools when they don't know the rules of their native language. Just remember; it's one thing to not know any better. It's another thing to be stupid and choose to not learn. Just ask Ron White. He'll tell you, too

1000 Things I Hate: #3

#3. THE NEW YORK YANKEES

It's not that I am against winning (after all, I DO like Charlie Sheen). It IS, however, that I am against buying wins. Steinbrenner was a genius. He had it all figured out: Make a ton of money by any means necessary, have a decent team to start with, and plug holes by paying an asinine amount of money to players to fill said holes (many of which are mediocre at best). The Yankees are the most celebrated team in baseball history. Much of that they have earned. Mantle, Gehrig, Berra, DiMaggio; all true Yankees from the system up. I can respect that. What I refuse to respect is paying to win. I do get some joy out of the Yanks' deep pocket blunders. Signing Carl Pavano a few years ago (just to keep him out of Boston) cost them $40 million. He won 4 games in 26 starts. They would lose the bid to Daisuke Matsuzaka (also to the Red Sox), but would shell out $20 million for 5 years to Kei Igawa (Who?... Exactly.). He would go on to a 2-4 record and an ERA over 10. I suppose there are some small joys in life.

If you are a Yankee supporter, and can sleep well at night knowing that if you had the bank account of say, the Brewers, you would be terrible, then good for you. I'm happy for you. However, I feel it necessary to agree with my little friend here...

1000 Things I Hate: #2

#2. PEOPLE THAT SAY "LIKE" BEFORE EVERY WORD

There is nothing more annoying than talking to someone who spends 13 minutes telling a 4 minute story. What makes up the other nine minutes? A small word. A word of comparison. A word expressing similarity. That word is: Like. We used to make fun of the stereotypical Cali girls who would be, like, so annoying. Somewhere, as a culture, people assimilated this word into their everyday conversation. I am of the opinion that there are a few reasons why people, like, say like, like, waaay too much.



Easy on the eyes. Hard on the ears.

Reason 1: People need a placeholder to think of what they are going to say next. Think about how many times during speeches that people use "Umm," "Well," and other useless sounds to create a gap to think about what they will say next. Some even use it in conversation.

Reason 2: People, like, seriously have, like, nothing interesting to say. Some people feel as though adding words and making what they have to say longer, makes them sound more important. It doesn't. You sound like a fucking idiot. "Like, dude, like that really hurt my feelings. I'm, like, a little mad that you feeling, like, like that about me." Don't be mad. Get a dictionary, something interesting to say, and come talk to me. I'm sure we'll patch things right up.

There's probably another reason or seventy-three. If you have one, feel free to tell me. Just don't, like, use 'like' to get your point across. (See above.)

1000 Things I Hate: #1

  I'm not sure how to start this out. I am quite sure, though, that I do indeed hate one thousand things. I will be updating this frequently (hopefully). We'll see where it goes.


#1. WAKING UP 3 MINUTES BEFORE THE ALARM

       Seriously?! This has got to be one of life's biggest practical jokes. You're right in the middle of quite possibly the best dream ever. THE most amazing thing is about to happen; you're watching Batman ride a mechanical unicorn over a sea of playful dolphins, about to finally make out with Milla Jovovich, watch Kobe Bryant actually go to jail for ass-raping that chick in Colorado...

You get the idea. It's all about to come together, then... your eyes fly open, you lay there looking around, wondering where you are, and you quickly glance at the clock to see if you've overslept!

Well, you avoided that bullet, only to then have another though cross your mind: 'Maybe if I close my eyes fast enough, I can go back to the dream!' Just as you are about to go back under... 

WHA!-WHA!-WHA!-WHA! DAMNIT! Now the alarm is blaring and you have to pee like you've held it for a month. /sigh

On top of all of that, I feel exhausted just from waking up...

Winds of Change

     Change is difficult. For some of us, it's more difficult. We like routines, schedules, a sense of normalcy. We like having, meeting, and being able to meet expectations. We like knowing that, when everything around us falls apart, the steadfast routines that we've created as part of our lives will remain in tact and give us something to hold to until the winds of the storm die down and we can come out of the shelter we've taken refuge behind. So, what happens when the change is not the approaching storm, but the shelter that we took comfort in knowing would protect us?

     Life is fluid. For some of us, it's more fluid. We can't all hold the same job for 30 years and retire taking solace in the fact that we scraped by, did what had to be done, and were able to hand the reins over to the next kid to do our job for the next thirty. Some of us marry early thinking that we've got everything figured out and that this is who we are supposed to be with forever. It works, until one of you decides that the paint on the white picket fence doesn't shine quite as brightly as it used to. Not everyone is gets to forge lifelong friendships wherein they see and meet with and enjoy the company of their friends and their friends' families as the calendar pages turn year after year, building memories and sharing more stories than could ever be remembered and told while sitting around a campfire. People change, friends move, both physically and emotionally, differences arise, and those we held dearest to us often become those we have pushed farthest away.

     Love is hard. For some of us, it's harder. We are closed-off. Our walls are high either by choice or because someone has caused us to build them higher every time someone has broken them down. We all aren't optimists. The good in people is more difficult to see; it's easier to find ways and reasons to keep people out than it is to let them in. That is our rock and our comfort; knowing that we are in charge of who gets in and out. The hardest part of love is figuring out what to do when the person who tears down the walls was the person you willingly let in and not the person trying to get in. Once they're in, they know you; your likes, dislikes, secrets, regrets, hopes, dreams, aspirations, feelings, what you're thinking when you run your hands through your own hair or chew on your fingernails, what you worry about when you lie in bed, and, though you've said nothing and tears are racing down your face and into your pillow, how you like to have your back rubbed or just a hand on your head to let you know that they know.

     In the end, we all travel our own paths. Some of us walk the road, paved by the millions who've gone before us. Others cut their own through the fields that no one else bothers to look twice at, unafraid of what lies ahead. Neither path is wrong. And, in the end, they all lead to the same place; a hole in the ground and a stone headpiece that no one will care about in 30 years.

     Henry David Thoreau said, "The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it." Some of us, metaphorically, live more expensively than others. Some will die penniless and wonder why we spent so much on so little. Hopefully, when we look back, we'll all know that what we paid for life was worth what we got out of it.

For a Friend

     This post will not be funny. It will not be witty. It will not be sarcastic or hard-hearted, as per my usual. This post is a way for me to get some things out of my own head that I often keep in too much or hold onto for too long before they eventually are the root cause for me overreacting to a situation or blowing something entirely out of proportion, as I'm sure many of us are apt to do.

     In fact, this will be a post of expression; expression of something I haven't considered a great deal until the last few days.


     With the very recent passing of a friend, I was confronted with a situation I haven't ever put much thought into: "How am I going to react when I lose someone I truly care about?" I'll be honest. The list of people that I genuinely and whole-heartedly care for is very small. In fact, I would say the number is less than 10, which in and of itself is a sad state of affairs. That being said, this entire situation has me rethinking much of how I handle the people in my life on a day-to-day basis.

     I think, as a society and as a people in general, that the world fosters a lifestyle that makes it much easier for us to treat people in the same manner in which we would treat batteries; we don't think much about them while they're viable or until we need them or they're no longer useful. It's easier to make up a reason to not answer a phone call or to go out to dinner with a friend. I am probably the most guilty person on the entire planet of this. It's not that I don't enjoy the company of others, but, rather, would stay in and be selfish with my time. Not that my time is any more or less important than someone else's. However, in staying in and blowing off an invitation from a friend, how many times have I denied them the opportunity to get something off of their chest that no one would listen to? How many times have I thrown away the chance to create a new memory with someone? How many times have I ignored what was a call for help when all someone needed was a friend to hear about a heartache or when they just needed the company of someone who they knew they could trust?

     Recent events have made me confront this question and so many others. When I die, what will my friends say about me? That I was egotistical? Funny? Understanding? Inconsiderate? While people make the procession around the coffin, will they be stoic and uncaring? or will they be smiling through the tears as they reminisce about a memory that we'd shared just last week or 10 years ago? Who we are is defined inevitably by what we do, how we live, and, arguably most importantly, how we treat both those we care about as well as those that we do not.

     Am I saying that I will, from this point forward, answer every call, respond to every text, and be a saint to my fullest ability? Absolutely not. It's not in my DNA. If you know me at all, you definitely can attest to this truth. What I am saying, however, is that I'm forced to reconsider who I am and the actions that come along with being me. I think if we all look deep, we could see that every one of us could use some adjusting now and then. As much as I'd like to think differently, I am just as guilty as anyone.

     So, after reading this, if you find yourself considering my words sitting on the couch tonight, or if it sparks a discussion with your significant other, or if you simply decide to smile at the deli clerk tomorrow at the store because it looks like it could change their day, then I have done what I've set out to do.

As far as those few friends that we all hold nearest and dearest to our hearts; instead of tossing out those batteries, maybe it's just time to recharge them and make them a useful and meaningful part of our lives again.


[This post is specifically dedicated (and hopefully I have done her some justice, in some shape, form or fashion) to Sheri Lynn West. You will be missed, but not forgotten. My heart goes out to Josh West, their three beautiful children, Jeri Ann Moody, their parents, and their family and friends.]

Growing Pains

      Cameron walked into Kindergarten today, on his own, for the first time. I pulled up to the awning, handed him his backpack and his lunchbox, kissed his cheek, and told him I loved him and hoped he had the best day. As I'm pulling away, he stood unphased with a smile on his face and waving. As he turned to walk inside, he yelled, "Hey dad!" I turned back to look, he waved and said, "I love you" and walked on inside.

     I lost it.

     So many times I have wondered what I could have done better or looked at all the things I have probably done wrong. And then I see him. I don't deserve him. He's the happiest, most energetic, polite, tender-hearted, intelligent little boy I have ever known. He is resilient beyond all compare. No matter what we or life have ever thrown at him, he waits, analyzes, and adjusts accordingly. I do not know how he does it. Everything to him is just another stride in life's walk. How I became the dad of this guy is beyond me. Of all of the people who deserved to have him as a son, I was chosen. It's not fair to him. Yet, every day, without fail, whether through words or actions or some memory of something that he has done or said in the past, I smile daily. He is the only thing I have ever done completely right, and most of that isn't even on me. It's as if he just knows that I need him to be so amazing because I fall so short, so often. I just want to hug him and apologize for not being as good as the the dad he deserves.

    I could tell him that. But he would just look at me, smile, and say, "That's ok dad. I love you." It's just how he is, and I never want to take that for granted.

   

PROJECT: TOO HOT HONDA





 



 

This is my ol' girl. She's tough, dependable, reliable, and, well, old. She's a '97. She's got 202,000 miles on her. In fact, her only flaws are cosmetic. Ladies, you understand. She's got...



dings and dents

parts falling off

a deteriorating interior

even a bullet ricochet acquired years ago.

However, unlike every other girl I've ever know, she's never given me one, single problem... until yesterday.  On the way home from picking up Monk from daycare, she decided she would pick up a smoking habit. Mad? No. Concerned? Yes. After making it home, as she has for 13 years, I popped the hood for a peek. Coincidentally, a 'peek' is actually my most advanced mechanic move that I have acquired. After immediately seeing the problem, which was cleverly hidden by a smoking crack that was spitting lava-hot engine coolant, I did some research. Research, while not always an automotive skill, I can do and do well. 

After watching 15 YouTube videos, reading countless 'how-to' walkthroughs, and even studying some graphs of a radiator, I decided that I'd try my hand at some radiator maintenance. That being said, I would be completely remiss to not acknowledge some key sources (plus, it's just poor academia not to do so). To anyone with a Honda and considering undertaking a radiator change, I would highly suggest the following:

This is Part 1 of a two part video. This will help you get the radiator off.

,This is Part 2. This helps getting the new radiator in.

This E-How was awesome:  http://www.ehow.com/how_6088156_honda-civic-radiator-install-instructions.html

Finally, this diagram was a nice addition for finding the drain plug and fan make-up:

Cleaning Up

 I made this a while back and am just now getting around to posting it... I'm lazy. Anyway, I read a long time ago about people making their own laundry detergent and dismissed it as some kind of new-age, hippie bullcrap. Turns out, the hippies are onto something. It's quick, relatively easy, and will save you some serious dough in the long run. I'm going to try and make this as simple as possible and try to not leave anything out. Here goes:

What you will need:
1 bar of Fels-Naptha soap
1 55oz box of Arm & Hammer WASHING soda
1 72oz box of Borax
1 16oz tub of Oxyclean (I use Dollar Tree brand)
a microwave-safe plate or dish
a cheese grater with a fine (not long) cut
a container to mix ingredients
a 2tablespoon scoop
a container to store finished product

1) The first thing I did was cut my soap into fourths. then, one piece at a time, heat them individually for 35-45 seconds. It will transform from a block to the blob you see in the picture to the left. It was so awesome to watch that I had Monkey come and watch me do the rest. He loved watching them transform.

This process also fills your house with a clean smell from the soap, so it's a two-for-one! Don't worry, it doesn't stink up your microwave for weeks afterward. It goes away quickly. :)

LET THE SOAP COOL! Very important unless you are a sadist who enjoys melting the skin off of your hands.

2) Then, grate the soap using a fine grater. I grated 1 bar of soap for a small batch. I'll list the ratio at the end in case you want to make a larger batch (which I did because it worked so well!). You can also substitute Ivory soap for a different scent. I've also read that some people think Ivory works as a fabric softener. I need to try that to find out.




3) Next, mix in 1 cup of Borax.
     (Yep, that's my hand.)


Very important to MIX WELL when you add each ingredient. Remember: all of this stuff will be working together.











4) Mix 1 cup of washing soda. As stated before, mix well.

5) Mix 3/4cup - 1 cup of Oxyclean. I use the Dollar Tree brand called Awesome Oxygen. Exactly the same, but it costs ONE DOLLAR, not six dollars...

Remember, mix well... See the theme?

When all of the ingredients have been mixed (mixed WELL, that is), this is what you end up with. A clean smelling mixture that works amazingly well.







I bought this container at the Dollar Tree when I bought the faux-Oxyclean. Also, in the jar is a small 2 tablespoon scoop. Yes, you read that right. It only takes 2 tablespoons to do a load of laundry! In the end, this detergent costs about $.05-.10 PER LOAD. To give you an reference point, the average cost of laundry per load of store bought detergent is $.20+ per load. Your total cost of ingredients is roughly $9.00 and if you spend another dollar for soap, it's about 6 months of soap for $10 bucks! If you can get this stuff on sale or use off-brands to get them cheaper, your savings are going to be even    greater.

So, that's that. I hope this helps someone. I was tired of spending $20 bucks a month or every 6 weeks for detergent; especially when for $9 I could make enough to last me for 3 months. Try it out and see what you think. :)

 

The Soundtrack of My Life

     I have been meaning to get around to this for a while now. I'm not sure that any list like this can stay permanent, but this is what I could think of tonight. There were a lot of good songs that I wanted to add, but didn't have a category for it (or else the list would've been forever long). I added links to all of the songs on YouTube, if you want to hear any of them. I'm always up for suggestions or thoughts. Or even post your own on here. I'd love to see what you all listen to. Enjoy!

-Opening Credits:  Boston "Peace of Mind"   


-Waking Up: PANIC! At the Disco "Nine in the Afternoon"


-Falling In Love: Ben Harper "Not Fire, Not Ice"  or Foo Fighters "Everlong"


-Fight Scene: Linkin Park "One Step Closer"


-Breaking Up:  James Blunt "Goodbye, My Lover"  or  
                    John Mayer "Slow Dancing in a Burning Room"


-Make Up: Jason Aldean "Why"


-Secret Love: Derek and the Dominos "Layla"  or  Adele "Love Song"  


-Life's OK: Nitty Gritty Dirt Band "Fishin' in the Dark"


-Mental Breakdown: Evanescence "Lithium"  or Flyleaf "I'm So Sick"


-Driving Scene:  Allman Brothers "Midnight Rider"  or 
                       Tom Petty "Runnin' Down a Dream"


-Flashback: Jim Croce "Time in a Bottle"  or Seether "Careless Whisper"


-Happy Dance:  Blues Traveler "Run Around" 


-Regretting: Seether and Amy Lee "Broken"  or Crossfade "Cold" 


-Long Night Alone: Ben Harper "Another Lonely Day"  or 
                           Duke Ellington and John Coltrane "In a  Sentimental Mood"


-Final Battle: 30 Seconds to Mars "The Kill"


-Death Scene:  Johnny Cash "Hurt"  or Dave Matthews "Gravedigger"


-Final Ending: John Mayer "Gravity"


-End Credits: Frank Sinatra "Fly Me to the Moon"

RANT [ON] OFF

     Wow. I'm here on the couch, minding my own business, perusing the news and come across a story titled, "Chicago Teacher Sues for the Right to Use the N-Word." It sounds unusual, so I bit. Once I got to the link and read the story,  I  was actually offended! The teacher involved intercepted a note being passed during class, which included the word, and began to explain why the word is perceived as negative and how hurtful it can be even when used by blacks. At this point, his principal passed by his door and the teacher was immediately suspended without pay for 5 days. WTF?! No due process, no questions asked at all; removed and suspended. This lit a fire, so I continued on through rhe education news feed...



    My next encounter was with a story where MULTIPLE schools systems want to or already are paying students for attendance and behavior. WTF?! Are you kidding me right now? And one of these instances occurred at a charter school, where they can basically elect to remove you from the school for not performing to their standards. If public schools were allowed to remove students based on behavior and performance, there would be no argument about why American schools are falling behind. It's usually those 3 jackasses we all have in our classrooms that make it difficult for the other 18 to learn anything! NOW, they are trying to PAY them to do what should be expected of them in the first place? Sweet 8 pound 6 ounce baby Jesus, I was livid after reading this!

     I took a second to breathe, then sat back to think about some of the things that happen daily and closer to home. (Who has two thumbs and is apparently a glutton for depressing, profession-related news? THIS GUY!) In our county, there's this ridiculous unwritten rule that we aren't suppose to give kids below a 59 on anything. Of course, since it's unwritten, I refuse to follow the notion that we should give kids 59 points of credit for turning in absolutely nothing. The thinking behind this ignorant policy is that it is easier to recover from a 59 than a zero grade. No shit. That's the point of a zero, though. If you get your zero and it effects (or affects; I can't ever figure that one out), then next time you will put forth the afore mentioned effort. Somewhere along the line, parents stopped giving a crap about their kids' grades making this a pointless endeavor for 70% of my kids who struggle.

     My next biggest problem is tardy students and those with high-absenteeism without a doctor's note. So, my dear friend Google clued me in on a story from California where they actually have a law in place to prevent this. Here is the quote from the article:  "California’s new attorney general, Kamala Harris, tested the law out in San Francisco and said that it was responsible for cutting truancy rates in the city by 32 percent. Harris addressed the issue in her inaugural speech yesterday:

We know chronic truancy leads to dropping out, which dramatically increases the odds that a young person will become either a perpetrator or a victim of crime. Folks, it is time to get serious about the problem of chronic truancy in California. Last year we had 600,000 truant students in our elementary schools alone, which roughly matches the number of inmates in our state prisons. Is it a coincidence? Of course not.
And as unacceptable as this problem is - I know we can fix it. In San Francisco, we threatened the parents of truants with prosecution, and truancy dropped 32 percent. So, we are putting parents on notice. If you fail in your responsibility to your kids, we are going to work to make sure you face the full force and consequences of the law."

Since adoption of this law, it has been ratified because the fine was $350. They are considering reducing the fine, but adding an incarceration clause to it. I think that's GREAT. Why shouldn't parents be held accountable for their own children? It seems the only people ever responsible for these kids are teachers who have to play mommy and daddy while real mom and dad are asleep on the couch all day or have no parenting skills to deal with their kids in the first place. If you can't muster up the initiative to get your kids to school or be semi-involved in their lives as students or as a growing person, then don't have them! I know what you're going to say; "But, Derrick, where would we get that government check from if we didn't have kids?" It's a tough question. I guess I'd answer it with... A JOB. Just a thought.

     I know our education system is flawed. There are just some things that we, as teachers, can't be held accountable for. Raising other people's children is not our job. If you didn't want to deal with them, you should've kept it in your pants. I can't be responsible for that, either. I have so much more to say, but MY SON AND I have a Lego car to build... together. If we fail at that, I promise I won't call his teacher and sue for his inability to manipulate tiny objects or follow written directions. Wish that was true for everyone.

Rant ON  [OFF]



http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/02/17/lincoln-brown-chicago-tea_n_1285750.html?ref=education

http://colorlines.com/archives/2011/01/new_law_could_spell_jail_time_for_california_parents_whose_kids_miss_school.html

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/02/15/ohio-high-school-paying-s_n_1280227.html?ref=education

I'm Thankful For...

     Ah, Thanksgiving. My absolute favorite, unparalleled, tantamount holiday of the entire year. Throughout the year, I am angry, disappointed, depressed at times, cynical, and a smart ass. However, on this one glorious day of the year, all of that is forgiven; and I get to eat A LOT. So, that being said, and because I don't do it most of the other 364 days of the year, I give to you my list of people I am thankful for year-round, but only think to publicly discuss it about once a year... kind of like my tax return check...

I am thankful for, but in no particular order other than that's how they popped into my head:


1. My Wife: Jenny and I are unrecognizable to each other from where we started, and, as a wise, jail- time serving craftswoman says, "That's a good thing." I don't know what I'd do without her
listening to me bitch and moan about everything. She's a great mom and wife and I couldn't be more proud of her. Every day I am thankful for her... even when she beats me at Scrabble.






2. My Son: Cameron is absolutely, bar-none, the most amazing thing
I have ever been a part of. He is smart, funny,
and as handsome as, well, we all know who his dad is... He
makes me smile by just being Cameron. I am the luckiest dad
in the world. (One day, he'll get me for this picture!)

                                                                                                                             3. Papaw and Granny: Where would I be without them? Maybe even more importantly, who would I be? They are there for everything that I have ever asked of them. Everything from borrowing tools and showing me how to run an outlet to the breaker box to taking Cameron to experience things like feeding fish, always making sure that we "have everything we need," and being the two most dependable people I have ever known. I love you both.

4. Mom & Dad: I don't get to speak to either of them as much as I'd like or as much as I should. I love them both. Always supportive in the classroom and on the field, I was allowed and encouraged to be whatever I wanted; I tried to be everything. I want Cameron to have the same opportunities, both academics and athletics. Along the way, I somewhere developed a sense of humor that I will attribute to them both. But only because they say I'm their combination of smart-ass: Mom's smarts and Dad's wit. :) I'll take em both!





5. My Friends: I'm talking about those people who, instead of coming to bail you out of jail, would be sitting right there beside you in jail. My list is short. That's mostly my fault. I'm kind of an asshole and make it hard to be around long enough to become true friends with. You know who you are, and to save you the embarassment, I won't put your picture or even mention why Jim and Delisa Davis, Jason Streun, Paul Anderson, Alice Smith, Trudi and Jeremy Brack are not listed.

6. My Other Family:  Paul and Rhonda Jolley, Ryan and Becky Howe, Stephanie and Preston Armstrong. You guys have all become such an intricate part of my life. I can't tell you how blessed I am to have each of you to call family. I love my outlaws, err, inlaws and couldn't have asked for a better group of people to be associated with. I have always been made to feel like I am part of the family, right from the beginning. After what is creeping up on 5 years (eek!) of knowing you all, I have been able to see that this is just who you are. I am so appreciative of each of you because of who you are: Papa, the only other-guy-in-the-house-I talk-to with all those women around. Nana, the best wordsmith I have ever met. Steph, the always there to lend an ear sis. Becky, the life of the party as soon as she speaks! Ryan, the best damned river-floatin' drinkin' partner you could ask for. And Preston... what can I say about the guy who says everything about himself... I love you, man. Staying out til all hours for a game release or XBOX session, just chillin and talking about life, or just trying to change brake lights at 1 in the morning with no clue at all what we're doing; you are a beast, my friend.


I am thankful for these people year-round. I hope they know it. Partly because it's true, but mostly because I probably won't think to say it again until next year. BRING ON THE FOOD!

NBA: Greedy Sons o' Bitches

Fuck you, NBA. I'm not a die-hard NBA fan. I could care less, actually, about 99% of the time. However, instead of actually doing your damned jobs and PLAYING a GAME, you are haggling about not getting enough money?! Seriously? Somewhere in your tiny, steroid-fertilized, egotistical, "we deserve to get paid" heads, you decided you didn't get paid enough? You play 82 to 90 games a YEAR. Divide that into the $5.15 MILLION the average, not great, average, player earns, and you receive about $55,722 PER GAME!

Why the hell would you feel that we would remotely have any sympathy for you assholes? You make my ANNUAL salary and a half for 60 minutes of work...

The last time the NBA went through a labor stoppage, the fans' collective hearts were breaking [insert sarcasm HERE] over statements from Patrick Ewing like,"We might make a lot of money but, we also spend a lot of money." Really, jackass? We didn't realize that.

Players are upset because the NBA is trying to implement a system to keep them financially viable. The NBA front office stance is that just because another year has gone by, doesn't mean you should get paid more money. Sometimes the market can't hold a certain inflation level. If you want to see the end result of continuing to spend money that you don't have, just ask America how her credit rating is these days. Players are complaining because they think that owners could raise prices of gates and merchandise to supplement new, higher contracts for players.

Let's not place all of the blame on the players. After all, who is it that charges $54 for a nosebleed seat at an NBA game? Who is it that allowed players to sign unrealistic and unfounded contracts in the first place? Again, I refuse to feel pain for someone who OWNS a team and has let it run amok on them.

I hope this season gets cancelled. Players don't get paid if there is no season. Owners lose money. Many fans will lose interest in the players and become apathetic to the NBA. Players who go overseas: Break a leg... and an arm, and your liver. The only question worth asking at this point is, "Who's playing hockey tonight?"

p.s. Remembering all of the times that Patrick Ewing choked when it counted, reminded me of these memories:

THIS is what you get paid for?

Common Mistakes People Will Make During the Zombie Apocolypse

     With one of my favorite new television shows beginning it new season, The Walking Dead, it prompted me to think about some of the events that often happen in zombie movies and/or t.v. shows. Many of us think we know what we will do when Z-Day occurs; not IF... WHEN. It will be the goal of this post to better prepare some of you to survive a little longer. Some will need this information more than others. Make no mistake about it: You know who you are, so pay attention. I don't want to have to be the one yelling at your dead body after I've just removed your ignorant head... Nothing looks worse than a guy yelling at a dead body after he just decapitated it, regardless of how the body got there...

The following helpful thoughts are in no particular, but equally important order. **NOTE** Some of these images are graphic. Not apologizing, just letting you know. **




1. PAY ATTENTION! - This should be Rule Numero Uno. Unfortunately, people on television and movies often seem to think that they are safe after any given event or if nothing is happening immediately around them. Use your ears and eyes on this one, folks. Zombies moan and shuffle and drag their often broken legs and feet around with them. They're uncoordinated and will run into nearby objects. Listen for the tell-tale signs. Word of advice on this one: Most of the zombies who are now attempting to turn you into fast-food, made this same mistake when they were alive. If they were indeed paying attention, then maybe they fell victim to tip #2...




2. ZOMBIES DO NOT REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE! - Classic mistake made in novels and cinema. If your dear spouse hungered for you during life, they will still want to ravish you after becoming a Z, but it gives new meaning to the phrase 'love bite.' Cousin Roy isn't going to see you, snap out of it, and ask to borrow a wet-wipe and a toothpick to remove Aunt Ruth from his teeth. Zombies are reduced to the primal instinct of eating. YOU still have a working brain, USE IT. There will be plenty of time for crying later; just do it quietly. I'm not getting eaten because of your crush on the neighbor living in 3C.



 3. BOOM! HEADSHOT! - One in the head ensures they are dead. Zombies' internal organs no longer function, thus they have no pain synapses to fire when you shoot them in the leg or chest. The only part of the brain that is still working is that small area with the hunger instinct and some semblance of basic motor control. The only way to kill an undead stalker is to pierce the brain, preferably at the stem. DO NOT waste time shooting or stabbing it anywhere else.While you are bashing Patricia Pinata with your broomstick, another Z is likely to join your party and begin its own party by gnawing at the back of your neck... I've seen it a million times... (See photo #1)



 4. DO NOT SAY, "Did you hear something over there?!" AND GO INTO THE DARK, SPOOKY, AND CREEPY AREA!- This also happens way more than it should in movies. I mean, come on. If you've seen a zombie movie in the last 20 years, has anything awesome EVER come out of taking this action? I assure you that NO ONE has ever uttered these words and then followed it with, "Hey! I just found the winning lottery ticket!", "OMG! A double rainbow!" , or "SURPRISE! The zombie apocalypse was just a joke. Well, we had to actually eat your friends and family to make it seem believable, but it worked! You shoulda seen your face!"

Basically, if you encounter a space like this:                                        You should do this:

There is no shame in NOT investigating a strange and eerie space, no matter what those assholes Velma and Fred say.

5.  CHOOSE APPROPRIATE WEAPONS! - For the love of everything good and holy, do not wait until you come across a belt-fed Vindicator BF1  to decide on a weapon. A revolver of almost any make, a handgun with a magazine, or even a rifle will do equal damage if you put the time into learning how to use it properly! (I do advise against anything without a silencer unless it's absolutely necessary. The noise will draw any other Z's who may be near.) All I'm saying is that if you HAVE to use a Louisville Slugger, it'll work. I wouldn't advise it, but it would work. Chainsaws, scythes, katanas, machetes, and many other handheld weapons will do the trick. PLEASE remember to keep the zombie blood out of any open wounds, eyes, mouth, etc. It can pass just as easily this way as it does via saliva. Be smart. Use ranged weapons when possible, but don't get killed simply because Macy's didn't have an automatic AK47 in your size.

6. PACK ONLY THE NECESSITIES! - People often mistake deodorant, toothbrushes, or soap as a necessity. WRONG! You aren't going to the Orlando Holiday Inn, people. Zombies don't need to be attracted by your awesome new perfume to find you. The fact that you are simply alive is reason enough to put you on the menu. In the movies, survivors almost always focus on weapons, which is a good start. However, think a little more into the future. I suggest you pack a bag ahead of time. Though a complete list (or very close to it) can be found in Max Brooks' The Zombie Survival Guide, I'll list some of the more important items: primary weapon and ammo, gun cleaning kit, secondary weapon and ammo, knife, flashlight, emergency flares, signaling mirror, full canteen, 2 ways to make fire, hiking boots, bedroll, daily rations, and two pair of socks. This is an abbreviated list. Keeping these items in a backpack will help you whether you have to stay put or get on the road.

I'm sure I'll get back to this subject later on. It seems like me and zombies go together like Jack and Coke, ham and eggs, Cagney and Lacey, well, you get the idea. Stay safe, keep your bug-out bag handy, stay alert, and we'll meet up over at the old Johnson farm when the shit hits the fan.

The Lawnmower Man

   About 2 months ago, my lawn mower decided to take an unscheduled, unexcused leave of absence. Luckily for me, Tennessee suffered through a fairly dry summer. My front yard is basically rocks underneath about 3/10 inch of dirt, so the baked grass was manageable. However, the backyard is apparently the original site of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon and I could still grow pineapples out there in the middle of winter... It's ridiculous, annoying, and is more trouble than trying to keep a fucking Kardashian happy.

   Anyway, the downside to being a teacher (don't you like the fact that I say it as though there were only one downside to being a teacher?) is that I am at work during the normal operating hours of any other business. The exception is that they actually get paid for being there... So, since this is my Fall Break, I decide that this week is THE week to get my mower fixed. In doing so, I made a few observations that I had not expected, and one or two that I did. In no particular order, they were:

Observation #1: People who have no REAL JOB, shouldn't put out signs stating that they are capable of taking on the responsibilities that come with having a real job.

If I pass by your sign daily that says you do small engine repair, I am under the impression that this must be your job. If I call your business line and you answer the phone because it just woke you up
at 12-fucking-30 in the afternoon, take your sign down (if it doesn't "mysteriously burn on the roadside overnight." Yes, I can light a match.) This is exactly the kind of people who raise children to
think it's acceptable to lie on tax returns and turn old toilets into garden planters. I'm not asking for much; just a little truth in advertising. When I ask you if you are still doing small engine work (because, now, I'm wondering if your sign is a cover for a meth ring) and your response is, "Maybe. Depends on the engine," I am doubting your ability as well as the fact that when I return to pick up my mower, I'd like to not have to be told, "Dude. That was yours? We just turned it into a garden planter..." (Yeah, I used that damn reference again. In my defense it's only to reiterate the size and scope of societal deviant we are discussing here.) I hang up the phone, annoyed, but confident that there has to be someone else who can do what I need done.


Observation #2: People who have a real job, should NOT (in most cases), attempt to perform that profession while inebriated.  



I reckon I could take a gander at that engine...
Mmmm hmm.

I decide that Option 1 isn't going to work for me since I would enjoy actually getting my mower back, after being fixed or not.  I move on to Option 2: Look in the phone book for someone who performs this task openly and confidently enough to advertise. I need to go on record here with something. Yes, I enjoy drinking. Do I normally drink with the intent to forget several hours of my life? No. Drinking has its place in my life. It fits comfortably between work and writing research papers with a few other exceptions. Within SECONDS, I realize one of two things: A) This guy is about to write a thesis on the origins of internal combustion engines, or B) He has mistakenly passed out by the phone and my ringing it caused him to forget where he was an answer it. This is a multiple choice test I'm pretty sure I passed. After being unsure about how to tell me to find his shop (I HAD to ask. Call it 'double-checking my answer'), I got pissed and hung up the phone in the middle of what I can only imagine was the last, futile, drunken attempt to regain control of his voice. This observation leads me to believe that there are indeed people capable of performing their jobs, but just don't give a shit anymore. I can only relate this to burnt out teachers, politicians, the managers at ANY Applebee's, and, well, lawn mower maintenance professionals.




Observation #3: Some of the last few people we can count on are the same group of people that we have always counted on: the mom and pop shops that actually still have pride in their work.

The only people we can depend on is the generation that won't even exist in 15 years. This is something I have known for a while now. I finally called the LAST NUMBER in the phone book, which is an established business that's been around for over 47 years. Shame on me for not calling them first. After calling and talking to the most kind older gentleman (who was flat honest with me: "Just bring it on in. We'll get to in in 3,4, 5 days and letcha know what it'll run ya." I like it. Be there tomorrow.

It's painful to watch us collapse as a people, but imagine how hard it must be for that generation to watch. They have had to endure the constant nagging and bitching of the last 2 generations about how their cars aren't as good as their neighbors and how it's such a nuisance to wait on an email to arrive, especially when I know people who walked to school, yes WALKED, and couldn't afford the STAMP to get a letter to someone they wanted to talk to. This nation is becoming/has become a society full of entitled, codependent, do-nothings. Maybe I should move to Canada... eh?
Until next time, RANT ON [OFF]