Day 27: The Questions for My Future Self

 I feel like I’ve written about this topic before, but since I can’t find that other hypothetical post I think I’m clear to use it tonight.

My 5th graders, distance learners or not, are now in the single digits as far as days remaining in their elementary school careers. An activity our social worker has done with 5th graders toward the end of many past school years has been to get each of them to write a letter to their future self, in a time capsule sort of way. It gets them thinking about the person they are right now, and who they might become by the end of middle school, or high school, or later in life -- whenever they choose to read the letter they wrote. He gives them a list of ten questions to write about, then has them choose four. This year I wrote down the ten questions. I’ll be answering them tonight, thinking ahead to the day that will come in ten years or so, when all of this school business will finally reach an end for me. So here we go. Just remember these were originally questions for children, so I may go outside the lines on a few of them.

#1: List three words to describe yourself. 

The best description I’ve ever heard about myself actually came from a former principal. I don’t remember the context, but she said, “I don’t know if I’ve ever met anyone so willing to take too much credit for things and not enough credit at the same time.” I heard that and thought: Wow. That is entirely fair, and I like how complex it makes me seem.

#2: What are your hobbies?

Hobbies are interests you pursue during your idle time, so it doesn’t seem like they can have anything to do with professional pursuits. Unfortunately, that doesn’t leave too much for me once teaching and writing are taken off the table. I like playing games and solving puzzles. Relaxing in front of the TV with some shows or movies to watch is pretty cool. I have a few favorite podcasts I listen to, often in the middle of the night if I wake up and want to try and lull myself back to sleep.

Other than that…walking the dog? Self-doubt? Anxiety? Do any of those count?

#3: Who are your friends?

This is kind of complicated, so I’ll explain a few things about my perspective. First off, as far as honest to goodness friends go, I only have a small circle of them — it’s an introvert thing. Beyond that, I think of friendship in three wider circles. The next closest would be those you have the most proximity with, like, in my case, people I work with and see every day and have connected with on some level. Outside of that would be the people that I still have some degree of relationship with, even if our paths have gone in different directions and I don’t see them very often (the Covid Year being an exception in the time length here). If we stay in touch at all in some real way instead of some pretend crap like social media "friendships," I would still think of you as a friend, and very likely I miss not having you as directly in my life as you once were. If you’re someone I know but haven’t even really spoken to in, say, the last three years? Well…Circle 3, aka Acquaintance Town. It should also go without saying that everyone, with a few exceptions in that tightest, smallest circle, will have to line up behind Freddie in terms of importance.

#4. What do you want to be when you grow up? 

I’m unconditionally grown up. But keeping in mind I wouldn’t open this time capsule letter until after I retire, the only ambition I’d have at that point would be to have achieved the level of working author.

#5. What technology do you think will exist?

Human augmentation, which will include direct mental connections to some new organic form of the internet once the Singularity is reached and surpassed.

#6. Who do you look up to? 

Outside of the obvious answers that practically everyone would list (parents, sister, John Petrucci), I’d rethink this one as people I admire: The musicians and writers who can bring magic moments into being and make it seem effortless when the truth is far from that; the colleagues I work with who have so much more patience than I do and display boundless compassion so easily because it’s a part of who they are, and/or keep showing up in their classroom even when it feels like the world around them has been temporarily engineered to kick their ass. People who get vaccinated.

#7. What are your hopes and dreams?

For the people in my family to have long, happy, and healthy lives. To be able to retire as a working writer, and have a happy and healthy life that stretches out long enough for me to enjoy that. To not be alone.

#8. What positive skill could you develop or behavior you could change that would help you reach those dreams?

Once the pandemic has faded into relative obscurity and my brain is no longer caving in, I really want to get back into a regular writing routine. I know I can do it. I have before, for long stretches of time. This past year though, and all the baggage that came with it between Covid and distance learning? It was too much. I allowed it to be enough that I was developing an idea instead of actively writing a story. 

#9. What are places you hope to visit? 

Top, top of the list is to get back out to the PNW. Other than that? Iceland would be interesting. So would New Zealand, I think. Really though, I’ve always felt that travel is less about the destination and more about who is with you on the journey.

#10. What advice would you give your future self?

If you haven’t yet learned to live with the idea that people don’t necessarily define you by your flaws and failings and might see worth in you that you don't always recognize yourself, you should probably start wrapping your head around that idea. You’re an old man, dude. It's seriously time to get over yourself.

Day 3: Building a Mini-Bucket List

During an early morning Target run this past weekend, I bought a new package of Post-It Notes to use on my fridge this summer. If you’re new to the idea, I’ve spent most of the past few summers turning the front of my refrigerator into a massive To-Do list of summertime activities, with each note listing something else to do, which I peel off and throw out as I complete them. Hopefully by the time school starts again in the fall I’ve finished off at least most of the things I had listed. It’s a good cure for the days when you can’t think of anything to do.

I didn’t do it last year, because the options of what to do seemed so severely pandemic-limited and the only thing really on my list was stay home and not die. However, the world seems to be regaining some of its equilibrium. Even though Covid is hardly resolved (and seriously, if you think it’s gone or will end anytime soon you have some real self-searching to do), life does feel slightly less dangerous than it did a year ago. I’ve gotten pretty good at managing a safe lifestyle, and I’ve had both of my shots. Maybe the occasional measured or controlled risk wouldn’t be completely inappropriate? After all, as I mentioned in the previous paragraph — I did actually go inside a Target store, and buy things. Clearly I’m ready to live on the edge.

In all seriousness I have no plans on going crazy with the “open world” idea. But I love my vaccines and the increased security I’ve learned to feel with their 95% efficacy. I think getting out and doing a few things might not be so bad under the right conditions. After a year of isolation, there are a lot of things I’ve always enjoyed, particularly in the summer, that I missed after holding back from doing them.

There are things I’d like to do that I’m not ready to yet, and even some bigger, more adventurous things that I’d like to try someday. But in the short term? There are the things I’ve missed being able to do. There’s stuff I’d like to try, projects I’d like to attempt, things about my life I’d like to work on trying to change, for real. People to see. Skills to develop. The kind of unremarkable but still unusual and potentially memorable experiences to be collected that would be worth the investments of time and effort. 

I think a lot of people might see life this way now, divided between Before Covid and After. Speaking for myself, living through an existential threat (shut up, science deniers) gives you a watered-down version of the perspective that I imagine people who’ve experienced near misses with illnesses or injuries probably feel. They survived, and come out the other side with an appreciation of the opportunities, the potential, and the promise life still holds.

I’ve never really had an official Bucket List so much as some things I hoped I’d get to do or see someday. I’m not thinking in terms like that here, at least not exactly. Instead of putting together a checklist of things like exotic places to visit, I’m thinking of smaller things, sort of like the things that really I could have done at almost any point but never took advantage of the opportunities to do. The smaller things. It seems to me as I start thinking about another summer with my fridge hidden beneath a layer of Post-It Notes, this might be a summer to try and accomplish some of those things.

For example: I’ve never been big on spending a lot of time in the city. Really, it’s just not my thing. I was brought up in small towns, and I’m relatively comfortable here in the blandness of the suburbs. But I’ll admit I can enjoy the energy of the city when I’m there, at least if I'm not trying to steer a grade level through a field trip. Maybe taking the commuter train downtown to meet up with a friend for lunch sometime could be a nice little fun-sized adventure. Of course I’d have to feel comfortable about riding the train, which is far from a lock right now, but we’re really just throwing around hypothetical spitballs here, so why not consider it for the list.

I’d like to give my dog a chance to see more of the world around him than he has; he likes exploring the neighborhood, so he might like getting out a little further. I have friends with dogs he could meet. It could make for a fun evening to go visit with some of them some summer evening, and maybe sit outside for dinner. I’ve been a writer for so long, and my best friend is a professional musician. We’ve talked for decades now, literally, about trying to collaborate on writing at least one song. I know he’s game for it and is just waiting for me to have an idea. Maybe this could be the summer to really try. A few years ago a friend of mine and I joked about making a day trip up North to visit a mutual friend with an alpaca farm and shop. That could be fun. I'm almost certain it would be.

The way I see it right now, I have a little over a month to really zero in on what would be the things that could both enhance my summer and help me fill in some of the overall life gaps I’d like to close while I still have the chance. Even if I only managed to address some of them in the end, I think it'd be worth the attempt.

Day 27: Look at the Clouds

My sister has a big wooden swing in her backyard. It used to be more accessible than it is now, since the tree it rests under has grown into something enormous, hiding the swing to the point it can be easy to forget it’s even back there. 

Not many years ago, I used to occasionally hang out in the swing and talk with my cousin’s wife when she was in town. Usually we'd talk about the things happening at the schools where we taught, how they affected us, and how we felt about them. This almost inevitably led to a fair amount of griping, because even though we’re both very committed to our jobs and we’re pretty good at them, there are unavoidable stressors that come with being a teacher, just like there would be with any other job. Having jobs so similar meant we were able to understand and appreciate each other’s complaints about frustrations and grading and social politics at a level many other people couldn’t. 

Eventually we’d get fired up after sharing these stories, which was counterproductive to sitting in a big wooden swing in the spring or summer or fall and just relaxing. When we realized how we were letting our frustrations encroach on our time away from school, one of us would cut things off, settle back in the swing, and say, “Just look at the clouds.” It became a code after awhile, reminding us to move on from the complaining, let the problems exist unto themselves for the time being, and to take advantage of the opportunity we had in the moment to recharge.

I have eight days of school left this year — I’m counting it as eight because I typically don’t count our work days, when students aren’t at school and I can get things done without trying to manage the behaviors of 30 kids, most of whom would prefer to not have their behaviors managed in the final days before summer vacation. Those final days can be a time when all emotions are heightened. This is especially true for the students, who can be feeling anything from excitement over a summer vacation about to begin to a pervasive fear of facing three months with not having the daily security and routine in their lives that school provides.

For anyone starting their summer with a laundry list of unknowns, or struggling through the final days of a school year, or really experiencing any kind of a trial that might bring on unnecessary anxiety, today’s post is just a friendly reminder. You might not have as much control over every aspect of your life that you’d like to, and there could very well be things going on that are difficult for you right now or will be in the near future. Just remember, you have it in you to decide how you will manage a lot of what you’re feeling and how you react to things. 

Sometimes the best thing to do is just pause for a few moments, and look at the clouds.

The April 2018 Version of 10 Good Things

We had a record-setting and history-making blizzard in the Cities this past weekend. Getting snow like this so late in the season feels like adding insult to injury since the weather hasn’t been the greatest for the past four months or so, not to mention that things at school have felt slightly off-kilter as of late (and it hasn’t just been me feeling that way).

When things have kind of dragged in the past, I’ve found it helpful to remind myself about some of the good things currently going on in life. That slight shift in mindset can make a difference in how I see things overall. In the hope of returning to school tomorrow after our unexpected snow day with a brighter perspective, here are ten of the good things I’ve got going on right now I'd like to share: 

1 - One most spring mornings, I can go into my classroom and open the blinds to fill my room with the morning sunrise. This is so much more welcome than starting the day with the dark and gloom of winter.

2 - State testing will be done in just a few weeks, and the most stressful part of the school year will come to an end. We’ll be in the homestretch at that point, and even though that usually introduces different kinds of stress, it also has some nice highlights, and is usually my favorite part of the school year.

3 - I’ve recently discovered Bai Andes Coconut Lime flavored water, and it’s incredible.

4 - Even though I don’t see my nephews as frequently now that only the youngest is still in high school and the older two live in another state, they all seem to be happy in their lives. Which makes me happy.

5 - I’ll be making a long overdue visit to my Pacific Northwest family very soon. Few things are as relaxing as being around this group of people, who are as happy to see me as I am to see them.

6 - Over the course of the school year so far, I’ve quietly dropped just over thirty pounds.

7 - I recently went back to read an older manuscript, which I hadn’t looked at or thought about very much for a few years. It was the first time I was able to read it as a book instead of a collection of chapters or a work in progress. I was astonished and relieved and proud about what I had somehow managed to accomplish in writing it. I feel optimistic about its future.

8 - "Avengers: Infinity War" opens in just under two weeks. I've been looking forward to seeing this movie for years. I'd love to make it a Friday night movie event, but I'll also be perfectly happy to see it on my own as a Saturday matinee.

9 - I have a package arriving in the mail today. It’s nothing huge or life-changing, but it’s given me something to look forward to for the past few days.

10 - The snowfall from the weekend may extend an already prolonged winter by another week or two, or possibly three, but eventually it’s all going to melt.

I’m assuming. 

All That's Yet to Come

The past few days have been filled with deep thoughts for me, coming from several different directions.

Most of the things I post on Facebook usually fall into one of two categories — either pointless jokes to try and make people smile, or more thought-provoking topics that might generate conversation. I made two posts this past week that sparked the kind of discussion I’m usually hoping for in that second category. One was contemplating the nature of true friendship, while the other evolved into a lengthy chain of exchanged compliments.

Following that, there was an evening this past week, after the end of the school day, when I was caught up in a deep conversation with a colleague. She had spent much of the past year working through a serious illness, and apparently a comment I made had helped precipitate a small emotional breakthrough for her. We spoke about it for quite some time, comparing our experiences from different perspectives, and considering how seemingly random occurrences can become formative influences in how we think about our lives.

Yesterday was kind of a big day, being the birthday of a close friend. It was a milestone birthday of sorts, since it’s the second one to have come and gone since he died last year. Similarly, today is also kind of a big day, because it’s a milestone birthday for a very close cousin, one who is more like a sister to me, and I know the idea of her birthday will be a presence throughout my day. 

Last night I finally made time to watch a new music DVD I have, the video of a concert I attended with one of my best friends a couple summers ago (we were even in one crowd shot for nearly two seconds!). It was a performance of one of our favorite bands reuniting to play one of our favorite albums live, for the first time ever. It’s an album that holds great personal meaning to me beyond just enjoying it musically, because it provides so many connections to experiences and memories related to the time my sister was dying.

Later today I’ll be at the visitation for the mother of a friend and colleague. Knowing this is coming up gives the time before the vaguely mournful feeling that follows the passing of any loved one, but as my friend has said repeatedly over the past few days, her mother had lived a long life and was ready when it was finally time. I try to see situations like this as, at least partially, a chance to celebrate the life that has passed instead of grieve it, but the fresh pain of the loss and the pervasive sense of absence that follows always carries unavoidable moments. I know she’ll be feeling some of those in the coming weeks.

So, like I said, it’s been a week of deep thoughts. This got me wondering: Why is it people tend to associate the idea of deep thoughts with things more related to death and sadness than happiness and life? Maybe when life is going forward as we expect it to, we don’t have to think about it. We don’t have to question what happiness means because we’re just caught up in how it feels, and we’re glad to be in that state. We know we’ll eventually have to navigate more challenging times, but in those better moments it’s enough to know that happiness is defining our present, whether or not we take time to acknowledge it. I think that’s why the compliment post generated the reaction it did. I don’t know if we typically allow ourselves the chance to either appreciate the things happening to us in those better moments, or the positive things that the people surrounding us bring into our lives. We just get used to accepting they are there.

On the subject of birthdays, and of over-reflective thinking, I’ve got my own landmark birthday coming up this spring. It doesn’t have me feeling old or spinning off into an age-related crisis of any kind; I’ve come to think of getting older as having another year of life my sister never got to experience. Birthdays are usually low-key and relatively unimportant to me, at least when they’re mine, but this one feels like there’s intrinsic meaning beyond what I would assign to it. I’m not sure it means I have to celebrate it with a fancy sheet cake covering three square yards or anything, but (much to what I’m sure is nobody’s surprise) it has me reflecting. Not so much contemplating things like missed opportunities or regrets, even though many of both are scattered throughout my younger days. Instead I’m thinking more about the time ahead. I don’t believe so much in the idea of a bucket list, but I can certainly think of life experiences I would still like to have, that because of procrastination, hesitation, inhibition, self-doubt, or circumstances at least partially outside of my control have eluded me so far. I’m hoping to make this year into one that could start me on the path of exploring more of those things.

Maybe achieving that could be as simple as proactively deciding for things to be that way. Maybe it could come from having been alive long enough to reach the point where I finally know better. 

Maybe it will come down to being bold and vulnerable enough to do things outside of the norm, like purposefully acknowledge the better moments, or just offering people the compliments they deserve which would usually remain unspoken.

The Night Billie Joe Armstrong Brought Me Back to Life

With only days remaining in 2017, I can say it was a year of extraordinary personal highs and lows. 

Things started rough. I had lost one of the best friends of my adult life in mid-November of 2016. If that trauma wasn’t enough, something he shared with me during one of our final visits led to an existential tailspin that haunted me for months after. I essentially skipped the entire Christmas season. I lost both the motivation and interest to write, so I simply stopped. Despite several subtle nudges of encouragement, I didn’t bother with my ridiculous Christmas elf story until someone literally left a stuffed dog and a writing prompt at my front door, and thank God for that because I had no idea how badly I needed it.  

January and February have never been my favorite months of year, so trudging through the winter with mountains of doubt and self-loathing, as so many worst-case scenarios about the country were being realized daily, didn’t help. As tightly as I thought I was keeping a lid on everything, signs of concern from people around me kept coming up; I’m a classic introvert so I dismissed them, telling myself I’d survived harder times before and I’d endure this as well. As winter dragged into spring, it was looking like any resolution that might happen would be coming much later than sooner.

One break from the routine I was looking forward to came on April 1st. Green Day was coming to St. Paul. A huge group of my cousins started planning to see them when the concert was first announced, but the tickets vanished before we were able to secure enough for everyone. My cousin John managed to get a block though, and offered me his final unclaimed ticket.

Green Day had always been one of those ubiquitous bands for me, the kind of auditory wallpaper immediately recognized on the radio, even before “American Idiot” became one of the albums I relied on the most to clarify the pain and rage I felt following my sister’s death. Their most recent album, “Revolution Radio,” had come out back in October, and was doing its best to drag me through my ongoing melancholia. I hadn’t seen them live before but they had a reputation for good shows, so I knew it would at least be a distraction from the empty routine of the past several months. I was looking forward to seeing my cousins at least as much as the show, enough to drive two hours out of the Cities just for a few hours more with them that afternoon, and then to spend the night at their house afterward. I needed cousin time. 

We got back up to St. Paul in time to have dinner at a Thai place my cousin Sarah and her soon-to-be husband Tyler knew. Our seats in the arena were in the higher altitudes, but gave us a great view of the stage. I don’t remember who the open act was, but after they finished their set my cousin Dennis and I agreed they’d been better than a lot of the other warm-up bands we’d seen before.

When Green Day came on, I was immediately brought into that zone that can happen at a concert when you’re seeing a band you’ve known forever. They played through many of their classics, proving why those songs were classics in the first place. They played some songs I’d always been lukewarm about, revealing more depth and power than I had noticed before. They played through many of my lesser-known favorites, even reminding me of some songs that had been favorites long ago and had since fallen back into the mental archive, with the vitality of live performance bringing back why they had been so important to me. 

The singer and guitarist, Billie Joe Armstrong, was on his A game. When we were in the car after the concert, I posted this on Facebook: “After tonight I can write this here without hesitation: As far as front-man live performance goes, Billie Joe Armstrong has reached the same level as Freddie Mercury and Bruce Springsteen.” Coming from me, this is no small amount of praise. He didn’t stalk the stage so much as attack it, belting out each song as if the life and love of all the world hung in the balance, taking control of the anger and frustration that had come to define the times and redirecting it with an angered positivity, refusing to allow for the idea that the current state of society had to stand as it was, not just encouraging the audience to do what they could to make things better, but demanding it. He worked the crowd so effectively it was, without question, the loudest audience I’ve been a part of in my thirty-four years of concert-going.

When they played “Still Breathing,” one of my favorite songs from the newest album, something broke inside of me. The combination of the music, how I had personalized the lyrics in that way people tend to do with favorite songs, and the power of hearing it live was an epiphanal moment. I faced down the issues I’d been struggling with for the previous six months and realized I could be stronger than they were, even as they compounded each other. The possibility that I could take back my life and make it what I wanted began to feel real again as tears filled my eyes and I sang my throat raw. When they played another new favorite, “Forever Now,” near the end of the show, I may have temporarily left my body. By the time the song ended, I felt purged. And cleansed. And ready to move forward again.

Days later, I had turned an idea for a new story into an outline that only continued to grow throughout the spring, and became the first new legitimate manuscript I’ve written in at least five years. During that same spring, I took on something else I’ve avoided my whole life — one of those things that wasn’t big in the grand scheme, but was big for me — and conquered it. Other hurdles came and went as the summer went on, leaving me in a place where the sources of most of my anxieties were conclusively put behind me — some through circumstance, some through my actions.

The coming year promises to be a big one for me, since it will be the year I turn 50. On one hand it’s just another age and not any more significant than any other age, but, like I said earlier, I’m a classic introvert, which means among other things that I spend a lot of time in personal reflection. Because of this, I can see how almost everything that happens to me this year will somehow be filtered through the idea of turning 50. 

The surprising thing about this, though? The way I’m facing it. I’m not starting the new year with any sense of low-grade dread, or the ongoing acceptance of an established and occasionally unfulfilling routine. I don’t see any reason to anticipate life taking a turn for the worse, or even going sideways on me. I look at the new calendar I just bought and see the days and months still to come as being open instead of empty.

This year, there’s only optimism.

Still Breathing

Lessons from 2016

Generally, I’m a pretty reflective guy. This usually means I spend some time in the final days of each year looking back at what happened and what I’ve done, and seeing if there’s anything I can learn that might help me with the year to come. I’ve discovered one good way to do this is to review my Facebook posts, looking for patterns and seeing if anything noteworthy stands out. Here are a few of the things I’ve found out after surviving 2016. 

January 3: School starts back up tomorrow. I'm not looking forward to keeping up with my email inbox, or waking up early on cold and dark mornings, or deciphering nonsensical spreadsheets, or attending meetings on mornings when I have other things I need to do, or second-guessing half of the decisions I make, or feeling completely used up at the end of far too many days. But I am looking forward to seeing my students and my friends again.

LESSON: I refuse to fall back on the insufferable and empty educational cliché of “doing it for the kids,” but, in all honesty, the only parts of my job that have any real meaning for me anymore are the parts that directly involve my students. 

January 16: Just want to point out that it's the 16th, the temperature is going to be below zero for the next 70 or so hours, and I haven't complained about it being January even once.

January 17: Maybe I'll just leave it all behind, move to Hawaii, and start a nice little papaya farm.

LESSON: Eventually the worst parts of winter, and January specifically because it’s such an awful creature, are going to get to me.

February 2: Read aloud is one of my favorite parts of the school day. I make it a point to choose books that I'm confident will capture the imagination of my students. I'm lucky to have a class that so readily and completely engages with the books I read to them. Today we finished a childhood favorite of mine, "A Wrinkle in Time," and tomorrow we'll be stepping into new territory as I begin reading one of my own manuscripts in class...for the first time ever. I've always felt to do so would be too self-serving, but the kids want to see if I've got any game after hearing so much about my writer life. So tomorrow while they sit down after Phy. Ed. to eat their snacks, we'll be starting Chapter 1 of the most recent revision of "The Ghost of Lake Emily." I fully expect the whole thing to feel weird.

February 11: Lake Emily read aloud, Day 7: I've basically lost storytelling perspective. If I could get away with it, I'd keep a notepad in my lap to make a list of all the things I discover while I'm reading that I want/need to fix.

LESSON: Even when essentially performing my writing, I can’t separate myself from it enough to appreciate what I’ve accomplished without still finding things that could be better. 

February 21: I'm working on conference notes right now, and I just came up with a line that both makes me proud and a little sick of myself. Instead of calling out a girl for being bossy when working in groups, I said she "frequently tries to assert herself in noncooperative ways.”

February 22: During the drive to school this morning I heard "Back in Black" on the radio. On the way home just now I heard "Hell's Bells." In between I had a 12-hour day that included parent-teacher conferences. If this doesn't all mean something, it feels like it should.

LESSON: Parent conferences, and particularly the extra long days that accompany them, are not my favorite time of the year. However I’ll admit that they’re still more useful and productive than some other parts of my job.

April 11: I wish it was possible for all of the uncertainty and anxiety about the next school year to disappear, and that whatever changes happen would leave people feeling energized and optimistic.

May 20: A field trip to a world-class science museum is a day worth being dead tired at the end of it.

LESSON: In the world of public education, there’s a bad kind of worn out and a great kind of worn out. 

July 10: I just saw 2016 will have a leap second added to it to keep atomic clocks set correctly. Which is great, because if there's ever been a year when everything has gone so well for the world that we'd want it to be longer, it'd be this one.

LESSON: 2016 was barely half over and already it was sticking its neck out to be recognized as a historic crapfest.

September 7: While driving to school the past two mornings, I've approached the intersection where I need to turn and thought, "What if I didn't turn, and just kept going straight east instead, with no destination in mind? Would that be a better decision? What adventures would await?”

LESSON: The road not traveled doesn’t always get to be explored once you’ve committed yourself to a certain path. But that doesn’t mean you can’t wonder about it. Maybe someday it will lead somewhere.

October 21: Here’s a glimpse into how deep the rabbit hole can get while revising a manuscript: "I used this unusually descriptive word on page 52. Can I use it again on page 110, or do I need to find a different one to keep it from standing out and distracting the reader?”

LESSON: Writing, and especially revising, is a lot like trying to complete a jigsaw puzzle with the lights off. 

October 26: I realized today that, in the educational setting, it's much more common to see inspirational quotes from coaches and athletes than from artists. I'm pretty sure I don't agree with the statement that makes about priorities.

LESSON: I’m seriously tired of being immersed in a culture that worships athletes as role models and treats coaches as wise philosophers, when artists are looked upon as divergent freaks who fell back on different interests because they couldn’t throw a ball far or skate fast enough.

November 9: Have you ever wondered what would have happened if Voldemort and the Death Eaters won the Battle of Hogwarts, and the dementors had been turned loose to freely roam the countryside?

LESSON: Okay, look: I didn’t vote for our incoming president. I acknowledge that a lot of people did, either because they thought he would do a great job or was simply the lesser of two available evils. If, four years from now, the state of the union is a thriving utopia, I’ll be the first to happily admit I was wrong to underestimate him and will feel both relief and respect for all he's accomplished. But those of you who voted differently, whatever your reasons might have been, I hope you'll be ready to own that decision if things don't work out.

November 14: Really, Facebook? Are you just putting the question in a blank text box as a prompt for me to share some happy anecdote from my day, or do you really want to know what's on my mind? I'm thinking about how an hour ago I took my students outside for dismissal, and even though he hasn't been at school for over a year I felt absolutely alone because there will never be any kind of circumstance when my friend and his always-present Minnesota Gophers sweatshirt will be out there with me again. And now I'm thinking about how great it will be if I can manage to sleep tonight.

LESSON: I’m tired of death, and the games my accumulating residual grief plays with my state of mind. I’m really tired of it.

November 17: Somehow my glasses managed to slip from my face and land in the sink while I was brushing my teeth. I can only hope this isn't foreshadowing for the rest of my day.

LESSON: This seems more like a fitting analogy for the entire year.

December 3: I did my Christmas decorating today. It took eight minutes.

LESSON: Sometimes it’s best to save yourself the trouble of going through the motions when the only reason you would be doing something is to go through the motions. 

December 21: Tonight will make the 5th viewing of "Love, Actually" in the past two weeks. Clearly something is going on here I haven't figured out yet.

LESSON: Five viewings eventually became seven; when everything around us becomes too much, we all need safe places and happy moments for retreat.

Here’s hoping 2017 will provide us all with a few. 

Day 28: I'll Never Let You Go (but I Might)

There are two weeks left in this school year. When the next one starts, things at the building where I teach are going to be different, but not necessarily for the better: Due to several dramatic turns of events taking place all at once, our staff is losing a significant number of people, and it’s likely we’ll lose even more before all of the dust settles. It doesn’t stop there, though. The domino effect of this is that some people who have been colleagues and friends for any number of years will have more separation in their days than they’re used to. The shifts this year generally have more to do with changes occurring in building programming instead of being anyone’s fault, but the end result still means many of us are going to be losing our friends. And even though it’s a part of how the system works and we’ve all seen things like this happen before, it’s still sad. 

Friendships develop as people find common threads between them, such as shared personal interests, or mutual appreciation, or just discovering ways they fulfill some kind of need in each other's lives. Intangible bonds form around these threads, and we find ourselves drawn to the people who willingly accept whatever it is about us we can offer. 

I think it’s fair to say that many friendships formed in a school are heightened by the emotional and stressful nature of the work that goes on there. I don’t agree with the platitude of calling a school staff a “family,” but there is absolutely a tone of “we’re all in this together” woven though the connections between people there. The overall purpose to which we’ve committed ourselves, as well as the tremendous time and energy we’ve invested in our work, can be a powerful uniting force. 

But what happens when that unity is broken? What happens to relationships held together by shared goals and common interests and simple proximity when external changes either break them clean or start wearing them away? How long will those friendships hang on once the strongest reasons that kept them together are removed?

I can think of so many people I’ve lost when they’ve gone to other schools, from even just the past five years. Back when those people and I were parts of daily life for each other, we had a lot of life intersections. Circumstance brought us together long enough for us to become important to each other, but then paths diverged. So many of these relationships slowly faded into something less as we became people we were happy to see at district meetings, or people we stayed networked with over social media, but didn’t preserve much of a connection beyond occasionally liking a photo or punctuating a comment with “Miss you!” From that perspective, social networking has become a convenient way to collect the memories of people who have come and gone through our lives, and were too important to us to ever completely set aside. Instead of being the immediate friends we see every day, we become the people who say they’ll stay in touch, or agree to get together sometime, even though we both know how likely it is that might not happen. Everyone has a life away from school to go back to, and we all are going to be more concerned about the people in front of us each day than the ones from way back when that we don’t really see anymore.

For my friends who are already leaving, or still might be as the summer unfolds, I’m not happy about losing you. If you’re moving on to something better that will bring you happiness, I wish you all the best. If we’ve had any kind of a bond that went beyond a working relationship, I’ll be sorry when you aren’t around to be a part of that anymore. I’m glad we shared as much of our lives that we did. I appreciate all you did to make my life better, and for accepting me as I am and for who I try to be. I know you’ll find new friendships along whatever road your life follows, just as new people will be passing through my life as well. It’s just a little sad to think that we used to be those new people for each other, and then we discovered we got along, and then we became friends, and now that’s moving on for us. 

We’ll have to be sure to get together sometime and catch up.

Day 26: Tales from the Big Desk

I tend to get reflective about teaching as the school year begins drawing to a close. As I was thinking about topics to write about here for the end of this year, I began browsing through older school-related posts, to try and stay away from writing about any themes I've covered before. I noticed most of my teacher posts had gone up either close to the beginning or the end of the school year. 

Since several of my teacher friends are 'Summer Vacation' readers and they enjoy the school posts, I've collected ten of my favorites here. You may have missed some of these the first time around since some go back a few years, but now, if you like reading the funny or thoughtful or inspiring posts about school life, you might connect with something here. Click the title of the post if you'd like to read more. 

In chronological order: 

Like vs. Love vs. Pity vs. Hate - May 25, 2010

This was about how you can have so many mixed feelings for your students, and regardless of how frustrated and angry they can make you, it's impossible to hate them.

Snowpants in June, or the Last Day of School - June 9, 2011

A glimpse into the carnival of chaos that makes up the last day. 

Episode 4: Paying Back Karma - July 22, 2011

From a series of posts when I was reflecting on the events in my life that influenced the direction of my teaching, and when my 6th grade teacher taught me about second chances.

Just Got Back - Sept. 11, 2011

Some detailed and telling reflections on the beginning of the school year. 

Graduation Day, Part 2 - June 4, 2012

Based on the reactions there were to it, one of the most emotionally charged I've written, telling the story of when I went to my nephew's high school graduation and had some incredible surprises.

My Life as a Talk Show Host - March 28, 2013

In which I made comparisons between the structures of late night talk shows and a typical day at school. 

Day 6: Human Sudoku - May 6, 2013

From my first year of May posts, when I gave a glimpse into how much thought has to go into effective seating charts, which also shows how much thought has to go into some of the smallest points of the school day just to make everything work. 

Day 29: Planting the Seeds - May 29, 2013

Reflecting on responsibilities of teaching, how difficult they are, how important they are, and how unfortunately open-ended the results can be.

The Compendium of 5th Grade Zen - June 8, 2014

All the Zen moments started in 5th grade. Some of my favorites came from those years. Here was a list of them all on what was, at the time, my last day as a 5th grade teacher. 

Everything You Need to Know About Teaching 3rd Grade - Sept. 4, 2014

If you've ever worked with 8-year-olds, you'll recognize so much of this as true. 

If you've got some time tonight or over the long Memorial Day weekend (which is promising lousy weather, at least in these parts), come on back and give some of these a look!

Day 19: Blue Sky Clarity, or 100 Minutes of Meditation

If you’ve been following the progression of the May posts this year, you might remember how I was standing on the edge of burn out earlier in the month. Thankfully I found my way out of that, and I’m now in a place where I can look ahead to the rest of the school year, and beyond, with more optimism and less dread. Back when I was knee-deep in the stress though, I was actively looking for things I might be able to do that would help my fight that off.

Sometime around then I was listening to one of my favorite podcasts, Stuff You Should Know. During a break the hosts did an ad for an app that is supposed to give users an introduction to meditation. It starts out very gently, guiding you through a series of ten minute sessions, once daily over a ten-day period.

I’ve never seriously considered meditating before. It all looks like quietly sitting to me, and any time I’ve tried to do that my mind takes off in nine different directions. However, our school social worker recently completed a series of lessons about mindfulness that really impressed me. When I looked up this app, I saw that a lot of what it presented was based around the idea of mindfulness. At that point I didn’t think I needed it as much for immediate stress relief, but I was still curious enough to see what I might be able to get out of it. Since the first ten-day cycle was free, I gave it a try.

Day 1: The guy doing the talking has a mostly pleasant British accent. He starts off speaking conversationally, but when it’s time to begin the mediation he sounds purposefully sleepy. There are a lot of prompts about breathing, noticing how the body feels, being aware of the sounds in the room, things like that. Within minutes of finishing, out of nowhere, I have AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell” playing in my head. Weird. Maybe I didn’t internalize it all so much.

Day 2: I sit down to meditate right before bed, thinking it might help me sleep, even though falling asleep isn’t really a problem. Maybe I’m just making an excuse for sticking this into the very last moment of my daily routine. In a few minutes I’m relaxed enough to fall asleep sitting up, and missed half of what I the British guy was telling me to do.

Day 3: Once again I try this right before bed. In fact I tried starting in bed, thinking if I fell asleep again I’d be all set, but then got up and decided I should probably do it sitting up like I’m supposed to. Brit mentioned the idea of problem solving in life, about not running into the traffic of our problems and trying to make them all stop at once, but sometimes just stay off to the side and and being aware of them; not in the sense of ignoring the problems, but knowing you can’t solve them all and being mindful of where you are instead of trying to do everything at once. This is hard for me. If I’m idle when I feel there’s a problem I need to solve I start feeling depressed very quickly, like I have to always be moving forward to justify my existence. This was difficult to wrap my head around.

Day 4: I took the advice of Brit and moved my meditating to right away in the morning. It helped my focus. I like having things to do in the morning. Walking, reading the newspaper, eating breakfast in the kitchen instead of inhaling something quick at my school desk has always helped me frame the day as being more complete than going straight from alarm to getting ready for school to school. It was calming to take that ten minutes to not think forward, and just be.

Day 5: My first Saturday, which usually would be the day of the week that would find me the most calm and clear-headed already. There was a short animation to watch today, about how sometimes too much effort can be counterproductive. This marked the second day in a row of reaching the end of my ten minutes without sleeping, so I figured I should probably do the rest of my sessions in the morning. Plus that way it doesn’t cut into my Hogan’s Heroes reruns.

Day 6: My first Sunday. I’m slipping into the steps pretty naturally now, just because I’ve heard the prompts enough times to know what to expect. There are some mentions to the effort that goes into trying to force things to change, but as far as what I’m doing to meditate the routine is the same thing each day. Nothing really noteworthy. 

Day 7: My first Monday morning, which should really be the most useful time since Monday is not my favorite day of the week. Another animation talked about how the calm blue sky always there above us, even if we can’t always see it through the clouds. These ideas are introduced without any direction to reflect on them other than a brief mention at the end. I try to bring the ideas into my reflections when I feel I’m supposed to, but when I’m told to “just let the mind wander” it always goes somewhere else. Maybe I’m meant to keep that idea with me throughout the day.

Day 8: I got up too early and fell back to sleep halfway through, only to wake up at the end. I wasn’t ready to turn myself over to the process today, and stood up at the end with a mindset of “Okay, that’s done now. What’s next?” Nothing internalized.

Day 9: Early again. I’m prompted to think about letting the mind clear and rest so I can access the thoughts below the surface; what good things would you find there, and what would you find that needed to be let go? The 10 minutes went fast today. I actually pulled myself from some completely random train of thought that was building and back to focus once without being reminded. When it came time to let the mind wander, it went into this surreal vision of peaceful collapse that evolved into a slowly exploding color pattern, which brought itself to a dead stop and became almost like a painting. I stood up and ignored my usual routine of getting ready for school right away, and instead sat down to write. I left the morning news off, I didn’t play any music, I just sat and thought and let the ideas present themselves. I took an hour to let morning be an independent part of my day instead of a prologue to school. If felt really good, taking away the stress of pre-anticipation and letting myself just be. Did that mindset come from meditating? I really don’t know.

Day 10: The last day. I started off strong, knowing the routine pretty well, but soon I was fighting off the urge to think about writing this post since I was all too aware of how this was my last session. My mind kept going back to that instead of focusing on this, feeling that, appreciating, or noticing things but not doing anything with them. I caught up with the routine again just as it ended. I had wondered where my mind would go when I cut it loose to wander on this last day. Today it didn’t really go anywhere. 

As far as growth experiments go, I was glad I tried it, but I’m not necessarily convinced it made such a difference that my life is now in the first steps of a brand new path. If anything, my biggest takeaway was that I now have a better idea of what goes on when people talk about their own meditation. 

Will I continue working on this, now that my free ten days are over and I would have to start a subscription? 

I really don’t know.

Day 11: Another Round of 10 Good Things

Today was a pretty stressful day at school, one of those days when a lot of stress which has been building for a while reaches an inevitable tipping point and crashes down to scatter all over. We're going through some changes at our building, and it would be fair to describe the shift we experienced today as seismic. For about an hour tonight I was seriously considering writing a post titled "Your Stress is Stressing Me Out."

I decided I didn't want to go that way, though. Instead I decided to think about the good things in life right now and focus on the positive. I've done lists like this before, and sometimes they help. We all get our butts kicked by life sometimes. It doesn't hurt to remember that as bad as some things are, there can be a lot of good things happening at the same time. Here's my list of ten. And the thing of it is, after I brainstormed for a bit, I had enough things on my list to where I had to narrow it down to these ten. Here we go:

1. This spring I’m in the habit of waking up a few minutes before my alarm goes off, which makes getting out of bed much easier.

2. My father is making great progress in recovering from his knee replacement surgery. I’m happy knowing how much easier navigating the golf course will be for him this summer.

3. I have a literary agent, and she’s amazing. This isn’t exactly news, and I’m sure there are people who have grown tired of my bringing it up, but I’m still so very happy about it because working with her is nothing less than a dream come true. Plus the excitement isn't just because I have an agent, but because I have her. Whenever I read something online where she refers to me as one of her authors, it puts a little fluffy cloud of happiness in my head.

4. "Captain America: Civil War" is awesome and still in the theaters. I plan on seeing it at least two or three more times before it gets nudged out by other big summer movies.

5. My cousins are going to be in town this weekend and next weekend. I’m really looking forward to spending some time with them.

6. I recently discovered the podcast “How to be Amazing with Michael Ian Black.” It’s a series of long form interviews with people of distinction from different professional or artistic areas, and it’s usually fascinating.

7. Justin Cronin’s book The City of Mirrors comes out in just a couple of weeks. I’ve been waiting for this one for nearly four years.

8. Fallout 4 has a huge piece of downloadable content being released at the end of the month. I’m not saying I'm going to play video games all summer, but it will be nice to have something new to explore when I need time to clear my head.

9. I recently found out I’ll have one of my best friends as a teaching partner next year, and we're already bouncing ideas off of each other.

10. The orange chicken I had for dinner tonight was delicious.

How are things looking for you on the bright side?

Day 1: Introducing the Narrative and Fighting off the Burn

Welcome to another month of daily posts here at ‘Summer Vacation.’ In what could best be described as either an experiment or a goal, this year I'm trying to link each of my thirty-one May posts into a form of loosely-connected narrative. You see, normally once the calendar flips to May, there are reasons to celebrate: springtime weather has arrived, bringing more daylight and warmer temperatures; we’re down to the last full month of the school year, with the tantalizing promise of summer in the not-too-distant future; my birthday even shows up this month, for anyone who might feel that’s important (which isn’t necessarily me). May is when the world seems to open back up for real as the cold, gray, damp, dark depression that has plagued our lives since probably November finally fades away. 

This year, however? Not so much. This year I’m finding that as we step into the first day of May, I am just a few degrees away from being pretty thoroughly burned out. 

Without elaborating, it hasn’t always been a warm and easy and comfortable year at school. For numerous and varied reasons, this year has presented a number of unusual challenges, particularly in recent months. Stress is high and morale is low, and I think everyone feels it to some degree, and there’s so much coming and going from different directions that it couldn't be pinned on any one person or source. Suffice it to say that our school is on the verge of what promises to be the most transitional year we’ve had in well over a decade. I can’t imagine how anyone on our staff, from the teachers to the custodians to the principal to the office staff to the playground supervisors, would be immune from the tension and stressors these changes are bringing into our lives. We have a good staff, though. And we’re all coping with things the best we can. All of the uncertainties we’re will eventually straighten themselves out, and I’m confident we’ll be ready to move forward into whatever the next school year will be. 

I know that out of all the question marks people at school are facing right now, mine have to be among the most insignificant. Still, as someone who too often lets my empathy get the better of me, it’s difficult to watch people who are important to me struggling to cope or try and figure out what they want from their futures, and that itself can take an emotional toll. Which it has. 

I don’t like being a person who wakes up wondering which problem will dominate the day, or what new ones might surface. I don’t like seeing my friends living with so much uncertainty. I don’t like spending the first two hours of my work day wishing I were somewhere else. I don’t like wondering who I can trust or who trusts me, or if I’m inventing trust issues that don’t really exist in the first place. I don’t like being this person directly, or even indirectly, dealing with these things when I know the class I’ve worked with for the past two years deserves more. They’ve been a good group, and, predictable and petty gripes and frustrations aside, they deserve a strong finish to this year if it’s going to be the end of our time together. Not to mention I think I’ve been in the game long enough now that I’ve probably earned the right to end my school year on a positive note, instead of limping out to my car to drive home feeling used up on that last day.

So I’ve decided not to be that person. Or at least take as many steps as I can in the effort of fighting that person off. 

Getting back to that connecting narrative I mentioned in the beginning? Each of my posts this month will somehow reflect on what I can try or what I am doing, at least tangentially, to fight back this feeling of being burned out. What are the positive things I have that can help me find more balance if I focus my energy in different directions? How can I be more of a help to the people around me going through the same things? How can I reconcile whatever changes are coming my way, and are there any positives to find in them? What good do I have that I should refocus on, or what are some new levels of good I can explore? How can I get myself to the end of this month and be mentally, physically, spiritually, and emotionally ready to send my students off into their summer vacations and futures with positive and memorable closure?

This is only Day 1. Stay tuned and find out. I know I’m curious to find out what will happen.

Being Happy, or Good Enough

I try to think about happiness on a sliding scale instead of as an either/or balance. I don't think anyone can truly be happy all the time, and I'd be highly suspect of anyone who would claim they were. For my part, there are a lot of things about my life that are very good. I've been blessed in many ways, big and small. But there are also things in my life that are not good (again, both big and small). Most days involve trying to reconcile this difference and find some gray area to live inside between the two.

Because of this, I don't think of "good enough" as a compromised version of happiness. The good moments will come as they do, more frequently at some times than others. Most of the problems we have eventually reach some kind of resolution, but there will always be new problems taking their place. None of these highs or lows we experience will ever be constant.

I tend to see things as contradictory absolutes too often. The day went well, or it didn't. I like this shirt, or I don't. I feel secure, or I feel some degree of threat to that security. I'm prepared to face the week, or I'm expecting the week to slap me upside the head for seven straight days. I feel helpless when I can't exert some control over the situations around me, and I feel like a failure when I don't live up to my own standards. A lot of my happiest moments aren't fist-pumping triumphs, but rather quiet and appreciated moments of relief that things simply worked out for the best.

Last Friday as people were sharing their plans for Easter weekend, I kept telling them I was just going to have a typical Sunday. Usually this was met with either tempered pity (and sometimes not terribly well-disguised) or semi-curiosity. When I'd explain that my father just had knee surgery and was scheduled to go home on Sunday, and that my sister had taken a shift at work for holiday hours that day (hospitals don't take days off, which I guess applies in both cases here) and we'd be celebrating the following weekend instead because we also had two family birthdays we'd be bundling in, then it made more sense. So while so many other people around me were engaged in holiday celebrations with family and friends, I had a pretty typical Sunday, outside of driving out to my parents' house early in the morning to pick up their dogs before my father got home from the hospital. I read the paper, did some laundry, caught up on school work, took a stab at some writing, and took a nap with the dogs. Not such a bad Sunday, but not exactly what most people would think of as a memorable Easter.

But the way I saw it, it was a nice quiet pause in what can otherwise become a complicated life. And I could still celebrate the holiday with both my mother and father next weekend, because my father made it through his surgery successfully. And I could still celebrate my sister's birthday, because she didn't die when her car was destroyed over a year ago. And I could have taken a nap today anyway, but today I got to do it with two dogs curled up beside me. And when I took the dogs outside after dinner, the sun was still out and the air had the temperate cool feel of early spring.

So, as far as I'm concerned, today was easily good enough.

Day 29: My Life in 15 Songs

Sometime in the past year or so, Rolling Stone magazine began an interview series with artists called “My Life in 15 Songs,” in which they review their musical careers and highlight fifteen songs that were significant in some way. When I saw the article the first time, I thought it was going to be more like the artists listing any fifteen songs that had been important to them. It got me thinking it would be fun to try, so I started a list.

The only rule I made was that the song had to have some significant tie to my life that went beyond the song or artist itself; you won’t find any “I heard this the first time and checked out the band and then they became one of my all-time favorites” here, because that would be too easy. I don’t know if all the songs I’ve included would be the fifteen most definitive of my life or would even come close to making my list of favorites, but, as you’ll see, they’ve all attached themselves to specific and important moments. Some were related to formative experiences, some are tied to very specific memories, and some relate to things so deeply personal I’m a little surprised I’m even writing about them here. But, you know -- Day 29 of the month of daily blog posts. Ideas are running short.

Usually I’d preface a song list with “In no particular order,” but tonight I’ll try to be as chronological as I can:

“Dancing With Myself” by Billy Idol: In the time before cable television reached the rural emptiness where my family lived in the 1980s, the only time I could ever see MTV was when we visited my cousins Chris and Amy. Twin Cities radio was sadly generic back then, so some of the songs from the early MTV videos seemed like they came from outer space. When my family caught up and had cable installed, this was the first song I watched MTV specifically hoping to see. I loved the way the guitar sounded just a little too tightly wound, then buzzed into so much distortion as the song progressed that the whole thing sounded like it was in danger of coming apart.

“Every Little Kiss” by Bruce Hornsby: Bruce Hornsby’s album “The Way it Is” was one of the first CDs I bought. If I ever mention to one of the younger people on the staff at school that I own CDs older than they are, this is one of them. As cut off as I felt from my friends while growing up in the middle of nowhere, and as much as I thought I wanted to put my hometown behind me, this song helped me find an appreciation for it. The vaguely country-tinged pop sound of the album reminded me of a slower and usually simpler rural life as I got further into college. The whole album, and this song in particular, was probably one of my very first nostalgia triggers. When this came out I could still kind of almost play the piano, and I’d bought the sheet music for “Every Little Kiss” just to try and learn the evocative piano solo in the first thirty seconds. It was well above my ability even at my peak, but I was proudly able to piece most of it together.

“Where the Streets Have No Name” by U2: I remember the big deal that was made about “The Joshua Tree” coming out in early 1987, and how everybody at college suddenly claimed to be a huge fan of U2, even if the band had been little more than a glorified “college rock” band before that, with the exception of one or two recognizable hits. The two guys who lived in the east corner room on my floor in my freshman dorm had this album almost right away, and local radio was playing this song as an album track long before it was a single, so we all recognized it. The song opens with this resonating chord progression that sounds like a melody created by the engines of an interstellar spacecraft. The guys in the corner room would play this song over and over just for that opening part. Since they had the loudest speakers on the floor by far, the sound could make your teeth vibrate from the other end of the building. This didn’t sit well with the metalheads and hippies on our floor, but the rest of us, who were so tired of listening to their music being played too loud, loved it.

“She’s the One” by Bruce Springsteen: Specifically, the performance of this song from the Tunnel of Love Express Tour at the Met Center in Bloomington, MN in May of 1988. When the E Street Band launched into this about mid-show, supported by a full horn section, it came together in a moment that stood as the single greatest musical moment of my life for a long, long time.

“Edge of a Broken Heart” by Bon Jovi: This was one of my first “holy grail” songs, the ones I would only hear on the radio and never had any luck finding in music stores. It only appeared on the soundtrack to the movie “The Disorderlies,” staring the 80s rap group The Fat Boys. Never saw the movie, but the song was getting a lot of airplay in the peak of Bon Jovi’s popularity. It’s a good pop-rock & fairly generic Bon Jovi sound, but it had hooks I couldn’t get out of my head. So many years later the song was included on a Bon Jovi greatest hits boxed set, and since the iTunes store would let me download individual tracks, I finally tracked it down. It sounded just like I’d remembered even if I hadn’t heard it in over two decades.

“Driving the Last Spike” by Genesis: This song became important to me in two different ways and at two different times for the same purpose. It’s a ten-minute epic that tells the story of the hardships suffered by the men who worked on constructing England’s railway system. I didn’t relate to that directly, but I connected to the struggles while I was out looking for my first teaching job. The job market back then was a waking nightmare for teachers, so there was a lot of frustration involved in that search. I learned to lean on this song as a source of perseverance.

There was also a weekend around that same time when one of my cousins had a graduation open house, so the whole extended family made the road trip and congregated for it. The first night there turned out to be one of those exceptional times that I think can only happen when you’re young enough: My cousin Jeff and I were set up with sleeping bags in the family room for the night and were just catching up before going to sleep, when Jeff’s sister Kelly walked in and joined us. The three of us wound up talking until about five in the morning. That night, and the rest of the weekend that followed, gave me a big push of confidence as I kept on driving around the state looking for a teaching job. I’d remember what an extraordinary family I came from and how many remarkable people I had in my corner supporting me. I kept reflecting on this each time I heard the song when one particular line came up: “They’ll never see the likes of us again.”

“Manhattan Project” by Rush: This is a song about the creation and use of the first atomic bomb. It’s a great song, but again, I assigned a separate personal meaning to it that became more important than the intended context. When my sister Jenny was pregnant with her first son, she overshot her due date and was understandably frustrated. One night, after we had all gotten together at her house for dinner and everyone who lived further away had gone home, I went out walking with Jenny, her husband, and their dog, to try and get things moving along. It was a beautiful spring evening, and this song kept playing on repeat in my head. I didn’t understand why at first, but after my oldest nephew Ben was born, I finally figured out it was because of one line that unknowingly had become some kind of a personal mantra for me during those events: “All the powers that be / and the course of history / would be changed forever more.”

“Primal Scream” by Motley Crue: No story here -- this is just my all-time #1 song to listen to while working out. It deserves a spot on the list just for that.

“Champagne Supernova” by Oasis: I have a decent-sized list of songs with bittersweet tones to them that always seem to work into my usual music rotation close to the end of the school year, the kinds of songs you might expect would fit over the closing credits of a movie after the story had ended and the characters sadly had to go their separate ways. I don’t always have the same misty feelings about the last day of school like I used to (because I’m just cranky and old and jaded and unpleasant now) but sometimes cracks will form and I can feel how much I will miss my kids and the place the had in my life for so long, particularly when I taught 5th grade and those kids would be moving on to different schools and I knew I wouldn’t be seeing most of them again. “Champagne Supernova” is one of the heavy hitters on that list of songs, and really only for the musical feel it has. The lyrics are so brilliantly nonsensical they allow you to easily to attach your own interpretation.

“We All Need Some Light: by Transatlantic: This is very possibly my favorite song, in that I can’t think of another one off the top of my head that would be able match it for that title. It’s a beautiful song, both so powerful and understated it could almost be mistaken for a prayer.

“Surrounded / Mother” by Dream Theater (& Pink Floyd): This song eventually tied “She’s the One” as the best musical moment of my life. I heard Dream Theater play “Surrounded” on their Chaos in Motion Tour, with an extended guitar solo that left my jaw hanging open. When a live album was released after the tour, I bought it just to have this song, and the version of “Surrounded” on that has probably become my all-time favorite solo. It’s tough to describe, because it’s played in such a quiet and slow part of the song but is as fast as anything else you could imagine, and somehow it all comes together perfectly. At the end, John Petrucci incorporates a recognizable passage from the David Gilmour’s solo in Pink Floyd’s song “Mother,” which on its own was also in the running to make this list. “Mother” was one of the emotional turning points from Pink Floyd’s “The Wall,” which was an album I listened to over and over and over for months while I was trying to piece together how I felt about my aforementioned cousin Kelly being deployed to Iraq in 1991.

“Soldiers of Misfortune” by Filter: I’m sure I’ve mentioned writing playlists on ‘Summer Vacation’ before. A lot of writers use them to capture certain tones or feelings while they work. This song, as much as any other, had a very important role in my writing Following Infinity. I had to reinvent the context once again to apply it to what I needed, but it suited that purpose very well.

“You’ll Be Bright (Invocation Part 1)” by Cloud Cult: The first song I heard in my car on the way home from the vet’s office after taking in my dog Spencer for the last time. I can’t hear this song anymore without remembering how that felt, and it has me choking up almost every time.

“A Letter to Georgia” by The Airborne Toxic Event: A very simple and beautiful love song, but absolutely heartbreaking. The type of song that makes you think about and remember people who were once in your life but aren’t anymore, and how the pain of not being able to have them with you fades over time but never truly disappears.


“Drops of Jupiter” by Train: One morning in the months after my sister Erin died, I had a dream that I was at her funeral. It wasn’t her actual funeral but a dream version of it, the kind that made sense in the dream but wouldn’t have anywhere else. I was looking at her body in its casket and saw the casket slightly shift. Afraid it was off balance and about to fall, I hurried over to stabilize it, but before I could get there my sister sat up. She was a child now, a child that didn’t look anything like her childhood self, but I knew it was her all the same.

She smiled widely at me as I hurried over and I was slightly taken aback. “I’m dreaming right now, aren’t I?” I said to her, and she nodded, still smiling. As soon as I realized that I knew the dream was likely moments from falling apart. “Well, you look happy,” I said. She didn’t say anything in reply but just laughed. I tried to think of what I would say to her or ask her while I had the chance, but couldn’t put it together in time before I abruptly woke up.

I sat up in bed so quickly I startled Spencer, heart racing, immediately alert, on my feet, wondering over and over, “Was that just some weird dream or did that really happen?” It was easily as vivid of a dream as I’d ever had; years later I can still remember so many details, down to how the pale yellow paint on the walls in that room had been old and just beginning to chip.

Now that I was out of bed and the sun was out, Spencer figured it was time for a walk, and began dancing around my feet. I robotically led him downstairs, put him in his harness and leash, and let him guide me down the block. As we walked, “Drops of Jupiter” started playing in my head. It reminded me a lot about Erin, since there are several lines in it that seem to wondering about what somebody the singer had lost was doing now that they had moved on. It stayed in my head until we were home and I went back upstairs to shower. Once in my bedroom I turned the radio on, and of course “Drops of Jupiter” was playing. My body broke into goosebumps that were almost painfully tight.

Since then, the song has come on at several other opportune moments, usually when I’ve been worried about something and needed reassurance or encouragement that things were going to work out. I don’t listen to the radio much anymore so that takes away from the chances I might randomly hear it, but I still remember the last time it happened: I was driving to pick up some take-out I’d ordered, for a little celebration dinner after first learning I had a full manuscript request from the woman who would become my agent less than a month later. True story, all of it. Promise.

And that brings us to fifteen songs. Definitely a longer post, but an important one to me. Thanks for sticking with it if you got this far.

Day 20: Q & A, Round Three

After three years of blogging every day in May, there have been a few post topics I've repeated each year, just because they're fun to do. For one of them, I put out the call to my Facebook friends to see if anyone has questions they'd like to ask. I leave this very open to whatever they might come up with and always do my best to come up with actual answers. Here's the crop from this year:

Are there any individual TV show episodes that you either go back to rewatch or just consider the pinnacle of a series?
Skip this if you don't like spoilers, but since all of these shows have been around and over for awhile I think it's fair to say the statute of limitations on spoiler accusations has expired.

Breaking Bad: The episode where Walt finds a way out of Gus's employment by blowing him up in a nursing home.
The Walking Dead: Tougher for a definitive episode because it's more about moments for me on this show. But if pressed, I'd go with the episode when the Governor couldn't pull back far enough to see reason and killed Herschel. That set a lot of things in motion for the following seasons.
Freaks and Geeks: When Daniel played Dungeons and Dragons with Sam and his friends.
The Office: Michael's proposal to Holly. The arc that defined him the entire series was perfectly resolved in that moment.
The West Wing: Two Cathedrals. Period.
Star Trek: The Next Generation - Best of Both Worlds. I was surprised I felt strongly enough to include this one, but it really was great.
Community: The party at Troy and Abed's apartment that spawned the alternate timelines. Genius.

Will you retire to Florida with the rest of us?
My friend Dax used to live in Florida. When he’d tell me about the unusual things that seem to frequently happen there and I’d react with any amount of disbelief, his response, which evolved into a catch phrase for us, would always be, “And yet somehow Florida still surprises you.” So, I'm not sure about Florida. Plus the hurricanes. And for all we know, by the time I reach retirement age half of the state will be three feet underwater.

Pancakes or French toast?
Pancakes.

Do you think there will ever come a day when electronics is considered archaic technology?
Short answer: Yes. Longer answer: Unless humanity finds a way to destroy itself first. Side answer: Interestingly coincidental question to ask. I’m currently preparing a series of synopsis ideas to send to my agent for her input about which of those ideas might be the strongest for the next book I start writing, and one of them has a pretty big plot point involving a technology that could be the next step beyond electronics, or at least serve as a bridge between electronics and whatever would come next.

Will Cinnamon and Evil Barbie be back for next holiday season?
No spoilers. But I’d follow the remaining May blog posts closely if you’re curious.

What is your favorite place to visit?
My happy place is probably spending a temperate evening walking through downtown Poulsbo, Washington with my adopted PNW family, just visiting, enjoying the evening, looking out at Liberty Bay and knowing I have absolutely no responsibilities for at least a few days. And even though it’s probably more of a necessary evil to the people out there than anything else, I still love the novelty of the ferry ride into or out of Seattle. I don't know if it's a "favorite," but it's the first place that came to mind and it did so quickly.

Will you be my friend?
As long as I don’t have to clean up after the alpacas.

Are you truly a Gemini or a Taurus?
Gemini, dammit. There is no either/or at play here. Once upon a time it was May 21st. The end.

Do you find that every year you have a student that stands out to you in class, not academically?
Honestly, I don’t. Not every year. And I attribute that to specializing, just because there are so many more kids I work with each year now and I don’t have the chances to build the same kinds of relationships with them as I did when I worked with them all day long. But every so often some will stand out, for any number of reasons, in either positive or negative ways.

What is your funniest moment teaching?
I couldn’t possibly isolate one moment, but I’m sure when I sit down someday to think over my career and plan out my definitive work of literary fiction that will show exactly what teaching in 21st century America is like, it will probably be in there somewhere.

What one thing would you find life much harder without?
My huge, unusually close extended family. Just because there are so many people I rely on for so many different things in life, and I would be lost without them.

Why do you write middle grade and not YA? Is it because that’s what you teach?
Short answer: Yes, it’s mostly because that’s what I teach. That’s what I have in front of my face every day, and those are the people I think about as ideas begin to form. Longer answer: I personally believe that middle grade literature is more important than young adult, in a formative sense; I’m sure I’m oversimplifying this, but I think most YA books are written with specific, built-in audiences in mind. If you read YA in any genre, you have things about it that you crave, whether you’re 15 or 25 or 40. I think middle grade can be a harder sell because so many readers are still emerging and determining their preferences. I see a lot of kids read the same book over and over, not because they necessarily love it, but because they haven’t found better options for themselves yet. I want to be a part of providing those options. I have nothing against YA though, and I wouldn't rule out writing at that level someday if I found a story that needed telling. In fact, one of the synopsis ideas I'm preparing for my agent right now would be better suited as a YA novel just due to the subject matter. I'd call it a dark horse as far as winning the title of Next Project anytime soon, but it's definitely earned a spot in the queue.

Dog or cat? And why?
Dog. Because they’re better and I’m not as allergic to them. Having said that though, I can spend days staying with my friend Dax, his wife Melissa, and their pets -- one of which is a cat -- without any real kind of reaction, even though we're all pretty vigilant about keeping Kitty out of my lap. Some dogs don’t bother me at all, while some dogs (Toby) can just lick me once and fill my arm with enormous red insanity welts.

As much as I love dogs, I still put it at very long odds that I’ll be getting another one any time soon (I'm measuring that in years). There are different reasons why, but ultimately what I went through before broke me in half, and there are still too many wounds that will rip open on me with very little provocation.

Who has been the most influential in your writing style and do you share that with your students?
That’s really tough. Back in high school and college I got a lot of Stephen King comparisons, mostly because I wrote so much friggin’ horror. And then like ten, fifteen years back it was more Garrison Keillor -- not because of the goofy small town stories but more about striving for the same authenticity of voice in his more sincere moments. Now I mostly try to be like any number of writers I read who can come up with such a perfectly crafted line in their work that I don’t have any other choice but to be pulled out of the story to pause and admire it. (Justin Cronin is one who comes to mind.) Middle grade-wise, I love the way Katherine Patterson's "Jacob Have I Loved" does such a perfect job of creating characters and a realistic sense of place; I don't know if I'd call her specifically a favorite, but I've probably put as much time into studying that book as I have reading it. As far as sharing with the students...I don’t teach anything to do with reading or writing. Some people see this as a head-scratching irony, but that’s just how things settled. My students know about my author side and are well past thinking it’s any big deal anymore (though I did have to clarify for them once what the difference is between having an “agent” and a “spy”). The only way I could share anything to do with writing with them would be if I used something I wrote as a read aloud in class, and I would never do that. I’m too introverted to do it comfortably, and see it as far too self-serving.

If you couldn’t be a writer or a teacher what would you be?
I have never seriously considered anything else. However, to answer the question the best I can, other people have said before they think because of my reflective nature, the insights that follow that and perspectives I've shared, I would have been a good therapist. Not sure about that one myself....

If you could only eat five foods for the rest of your life, what would they be? Bacon. Smoked salmon, only from the PNW. Tortellini alfredo. Thanksgiving turkey. Soft, heavily-chipped chocolate chip cookies.

Is there a dream or goal that you have (outside of being a writer/teacher) that you are working towards? Outside of the whole “become a published author” thing, my ambitions for life have all been fairly modest. I suppose I still would like to get married someday, though admittedly this isn’t the easiest prospect for an off-the-charts introvert like me. Not to mention that as the years roll by, it seems to become less and less likely I’ll be able to find a woman willing to put up with this defining collection of idiosyncrasies I have that take the place of any kind of personality. (That’s just a self-deprecating joke, Mom -- calm down).

Do you want to keep living in Minnesota? Where will you probably retire?
I’ve never seriously considered living anywhere else, though the past few winters have me realizing there are some things about living here that I truly hate (January and, to a lesser degree, February, to be specific). I haven’t thought much about retirement other than a recently planted seed of hope that I might be able to do it sooner than I've always thought. It’s a fun little game to listen to people at school speculate how many years are left before I'll be able to write my way out of the classroom (which, trust me, is not guaranteed to ever happen anyway). I could easily see myself settling in the PNW, but I’m not sure how the whole cloud and rain thing there would work if it were more permanent.

Do you have any underrated movies in mind?
YES!! 1. "Mystery Men." 2. "Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang." 3. "True Romance." Probably even more if I took the time to think about it. Maybe this year I’ll have a staff underrated movie marathon party/open house in the middle of summer. I’ll provide a schedule and people can show up to see the ones they’re interested in, and that can be a big fun summertime staff get together. Or maybe we can do it at someone else’s house. If they have a pool or something....or maybe I'll just lazily forget about the whole thing. Good chance, that.

If you could go back and go to college again, would you go to the same place or some place else?
I’ve always said if I had the chance to relive any month of my life, I would choose any random month I spent in college. I don’t think it had so much to do specifically with St. Cloud though. I think it was more about experiencing the way the whole world seemed to open up around me while I was there, which probably would have happened to most people wherever they may have gone to school.

Can you identify characteristics of dog people or cat people?
Dog people are probably just better in several ways because dogs. Cat people either seem a tiny bit off to begin with, or they surprise me because I can’t imagine why someone would choose a cat over a dog. There’s just no sense in that. Sorry, cat people. I won't be playing on your softball team anytime soon.

Best lines from movies, or books:
I took these from my Facebook quotes section:

"If we were not islands, we would be lost, drowned in each other's tragedies... we draw our lines around these moments of pain and remain upon our islands, and they cannot hurt us." --Neil Gaiman

"It's a wonderful thing to push on alone toward the horizon and have it be your own horizon and not someone else's. It's a good feeling, lonely and magnificent and frightening and peaceful..." -- Garrison Keillor

"It is easy to say you believe a rope to be strong and sound as long as you are merely using it to cord a box. But suppose you had to hang by that rope over a precipice. Wouldn't you then first discover how much you really trusted it? The same with people." -- C.S. Lewis

Movies are tougher since there are so many lines I could quote. A current favorite is probably from "Avengers: Age of Ultron," when Captain America tells the rest of the team in a battle, “You get hurt, hurt them back. You get killed, walk it off.”

What is your favorite metal, and why?
Vibranium, because that’s what they use to make Captain America’s shield.

What are your five favorite commercials, and why?
Sorry, Paul. I thought about this and really tried to reward you with a clever answer, but I can't think of any commercials that have me lighting up with excitement, or even acquiescence, when they come on.

What is the book that made you want to write?
I think the writing was ignited by two things happening in very close proximity on my personal timeline: In 4th grade or so, I first read "A Wrinkle in Time" within months of seeing the original "Star Wars." Imagine that pairing being presented to a hyperactive young imagination that hadn't yet found the creative outlet it didn't know it needed. 

Why is your sister, Jenny, so sexy?
I can think of no good way to answer this. Ask her husband.