All Hail the Librarian and the Teacher!

That's right.

We had fainting goats and silly videos. We had announcements and updates and all that jazz. Now it is time to pay tribute to two of the greatest professionals in da woild!

The Librarian and the Teacher.

Did you feel that? Did your skin prickle? Mine did. Every time I talk with a librarian or a teacher I'm almost moved to tears. They are amazing. They work their knuckles to the bone to secure the future of books and reading. I've met many throughout my career. Yes, some of them fall in line with the stereotype. The grey bunned hair (bunned is not a word librarians, I know this.) Bespectacled. Ornery. Addicted to silence, with index finger permanently pressed against pursed lips (check out that alliteration, teachers. Booyah!)

But most of the librarians and teachers I've met wander inconspicuously among us. Observing. Calculating their next move to ensure our youth develop a burning love of mind-expansion. They deserve our praise. Our money. And in the very least, our attention. They know which books matter. They know it is not only all about the classics in literature or the controversial pieces that make a difference. They know sometimes a good book requires a little flatulence, a little tomfoolery, a little talking cockroaches. Yes, they know. Because if a doubting child can somehow pull through to the end of a book and feel that amazing sense of accomplishment, something ignites within them. So the librarians and the teachers endure the lows of book recommendations not containing the words "Ere" and "Yore" from time to time.

In my writing world, the librarians and teachers reign supreme. They make all the difference. They are the Mrs. LaDukes and the Mrs. Bennetts and the Mrs. Paschals and the Mrs. Haymonds. They are the Mrs. Nociforas and the Mrs. Nguyens and the Mrs. Perrys. They are so many and yet so few. Whoa now, we just got deep. Philosophical even.

So, in tribute to some of the greatest beings on this planet, I give you a contest. All you have to do to enter is make a comment showing your praise for the librarians and teachers of the world. That's it. Comment as many times as you like with as many pearls of praise as you desire. I'll hold a drawing in one week from today and randomly select one of the commenters to win a signed copy of the NYTimes Bestseller, Paranormalcy, by Kiersten White.

Even if you don't want to win this fabulous prize, you should still shower some kind words to those who quietly mold the future of our kids.

Yet another rerun but a cool one

So I'm in this kinda retro mood; looking back at times past and things that I blogged about and I have to do another post on my cool son Jackson. Jackson has proven to be quite determined when it comes to his karate. Now of course there is some gentle persuasion that us parents had to do to convince him to stick with it, but really we haven't done much. When he says he wants to quit we generally say that's fine, but by the time practice rolls around the following week he's ready to go.

We did have a set-back a few months ago when he tested for his purple belt. He had passed the first two relatively easily, but really struggled with this test. Jackson, hadn't had that much rejection in his life and when he discovered (in front of every one's parents in a gym... brutal) that he did advance, but not to the purple belt (just to orange second degree) he was devastated. After that, it was pretty clear he didn't want to go on and what could we do but support him. He said that he was finished with karate and that he would do something else instead. It seemed as though his mind was set, that was until he was watching Kung Fu Panda later the next evening. I love that show on so many levels! As the show neared the end and Po stuck with his training (don't worry, I won't spoil it,) I mentioned to Jackson that Po kept going and look what happened. Jackson, looked at me and Heidi and said I'm not quitting karate. And he didn't. This past Thursday after another tough three month session, Jackson advanced to the purple belt! What a stud and an inspiration! Way to go pal!

Tribute to Previous Posts

Yeah, it's an odd posting, but there's been a lot happening as of late that seems to be somewhat Deja Vu. Do you ever feel like you're caught in a vicious whirlpool, down spiraling to a sudden doom? It's kinda like a toilet.

Today my family went to Wal-mart. Not once, but thrice. (see post - Conspiracy Theory #1 06/29/08)

I went and watched the movie Monsters vs. Aliens, and although my kids loved it and I found myself chuckling a bit, they insisted on using inappropriate language. What gives? Are there honestly people out there sitting in an animated move right now that are frustrated that the giant cartoon mouse isn't swearing more? Are these people the same sort that I have to literally yank my steering wheel in the opposite direction in order to avoid smashing them into the cart corral at Wal-mart? I think so. (see post - Time for A Rant o1/20/09)

I had another sleep episode while on my trip to Yosemite. No one was there to wake me? No sweet little wife around to call me names and tell me to go back to sleep. So, I tried for a few solid minutes to break into the adjoining hotel room through the door. Poor suckers. Thought they'd get away from it all and enjoy a nice vacation in nature. Thought they'd be safe from the crazies of the outside world. I repeat, poor suckers. (see literally every other post on this blog.)

I realize I don't know how to get off the telephone with someone. What typically should be an easy process of... goodbye, sends my mind spinning. What do I say? I'm done talking and now I wish the phone would just disconnect, but in all honesty that would be horrific because then I would be forced to call the person back and apologize for the bad connection, thus putting myself back into the same awkward situation as before. Only this time I'd have nothing to talk about. When I talk to family members it usually takes me several attempts to find the right words to end the conversation. Here's an example. The little (...) have been put in to indicate the other person talking.

"Well, I had better go," ... "Yeah, the kids are screaming," ... "Well take care," ... "I'll probably call you sometime later this week," ... "well take care," ... "Uh huh," ... "Ha ha ha, yeah, you too," ... "mmm hmmm," ... "I will," ... "tell everyone hi for me," ... "You too," ... "Ha, yeah, I'll see you," ... "OK," ... "Mbye." That's painful! Like lemon juice in an open wound! (see post Stress 01/31/09)

I think the Wall-Knocker is on vacation. I haven't heard he or she in quite a while. I'd almost venture to say that I miss him or her. (see post Nostalgic Moment #15 09/27/08)

Life is one big circle. Either that or I am just out of new material. Yeah... that could be it.

Tribute

It's hard to believe it's been 4 years since I lost my best friend Wen. Not a week goes by that I don't miss him. He taught me a lot about music and made me a fan of the Beatles, the Eagles and all the greats. As a tribute, I've changed my playlist to some of his favorite songs.

I still remember all those weekends in High School when we had plans of meeting girls and taking them to the movies, but only ended up going by ourselves. In fact when I met his amazing wife Suzie, I introduced myself as Wen's weekend date. I love you pal! I'm sure Heaven sounds a little better now that you're there.

"Mom look what followed me home," (Wen talking to his mom the first time I came over to his house.)

A Tribute to Mom and Dad's White Carpet

Why they chose white carpet, I'll never know. Especially when there was still a Cole Boy living at home (Michael). To this day we can't eat a meal without a good chunk of it splattering on something important. Plus they have a dog, scratch that... they have a neurotic dog, but I guess that doesn't matter because the dog rules the house. Michael and I had to take off our shoes whenever we walked into the house and it was taboo to remove the pillows from the couch, but the dog could roll around in you know what and still earn the most comfortable spot in the room. That carpet... oh man... that carpet.

I remember it was a month or two before I got married and I was back home in Bama with my brother. My sister also came in for the week with her kids so we could all catch up and have a good ole time. For some reason, Mom and Dad decided that it would be a wise choice to pick up some KFC plus the works (baked beans, mashed potatoes, Cole slaw, etc.) and eat it in our kitchen. Never mind the fact that we were flanked at every corner by beaming, celestial white carpet.

Needless to say, the baked beans ended up on the floor and no it wasn't my fault. It didn't matter whose fault it was, mom and dad morphed in a matter of seconds into 2 strange beings. They frantically dove to the floor and started siphoning up the sauce with an almost demonic zeal.

Michael sat casually on a bar stool, munching chicken and opting not to watch the whole ordeal. As he chewed on a leg he glanced up at me and my sister, Jen, and offered us a whispered warning.

"Don't offer to help," he murmured under his breath.

Why wouldn't we help? After all, our parents were getting up there in their years (sorry folks,) and their hyperactive behavior could prove deadly. So we both got down on our knees next to them and proceeded to mop up the slop with them.

I remember feeling very cold, as if all of the heat was sucked out of the room from some unearthly force. Mom's eyes, I kid you not, glowed red.

"Back away from the carpet!" she growled, sounding more like a gargoyle then a sweet little grandma. We glanced at dad, who said nothing, keeping his head down and glued to the floor. After that little encounter with my mother, Jen and I slowly backed away and allowed them to continue their mantra. Michael never moved from his stool, but bore a look that said "I told you so," on his face.

Later that evening, after the tension dispersed, the three of us kids went out for a drive. Jen and I needed to know what just happened, so we probed Michael for more details. He then recanted what he believed was one of his most frightening experiences in all his life.

It was a few months prior to the KFC fiasco, and the carpet had just been lain. Mom and Dad couldn't have been more proud of their newest purchase. Michael had a friend over for the night, and after renting a few movies for their entertainment, they stopped by the McDonald's drive thru for some food.

Back at the house, they devoured their meal and then popped in the first movie. Disaster struck, as Michael was reaching over to place his towering cup of Hi-C orange on the television when his friend shut off the lights and Michael accidentally dropped the drink all over the carpet. As if summoned by the unknown, Mom appeared in the living room and proceeded to scare the living crap out of Michael and his friend. Both boys (17 years old mind you,) were sent to separate rooms for the rest of the night.

When we asked Michael to be honest and tell us how angry our mom had gotten, Michael replied solemnly. "Oh, I saw banshees that night!"

Imagine if you will, a small woman (my mom stands 5'2 on her tip toes,) with wild hair and worse, wild eyes, conjuring up banshees from the afterlife. Although, I wasn't present for Michael's memory, I sometimes wake up at night, clutching my pillow in a fit of ice cold sweats from the image he created.

Don't get me wrong, I have the best mother in the world. She is so giving, that she will chase missionaries down the street flinging corn bread muffins at them from afar. She'll go sleepless for weeks just to ensure that her children are well. Just don't mess with her white carpet.

Tribute to the one of the Greatest undiscovered authors

He'll probably hate me for it, but I have to do it. People gots to know about Michael Cole. He's been compared to a doped up Sheil Silverstein. A lyrical wizard. It's rare for me to catch the humor in people's writing, and even rarrrerrr (got carried away...) to find myself laughing hysterically from something I've read. Michael has that ability. Like so many authors out there (myself included) we just need a chance, a break, someone to give us the opportunity.

(excerpt from Confessions of a Moonshine Addict by Michael Cole)

Bacon bits and cheese
Pepper makes me sneeze
Underwear is itchin’
Gofers in the kitchen
Wooden diaper needles
Viper-eating weasels
Took another swig
Guzzled like a pig
Fire in the lungs
Tingles up the spine
Drinking sweet potatoes
Eating barrels full of wine.