Out of My League

http://gbicknell.blogspot.com/

My first cell phone weiged about 5 pounds and I left it in my car everyday. It wasn’t too big or bulky, it was just heavy. I could use it to make phone calls.

My latest cell phone is the most incredible communication/media device that I have ever owned. Yes folks, I have gone to the DARKSIDE! I now own an Apple iPhone!

I would write more… but I need to check out some apps. 

I had the pleasure of listening to the musings of David Warlick today. He also had the pleasure of entertaining a few of my questions. CLICK HERE to listen to the podcast. 

Today was information overload… digest the following before listening to his words…

“We are spending too much time in our classrooms teaching our children how to use paper.” We need to teach them how to use digital media.

“I’m not preparing children for my futrue… I’m preparing them for their future.”

I’m sure over the next few weeks I will have more to say as I take apart what I learned… until then…

redefine

literacy

warlick

Growing up I thought my Dad could do anything. Yes, my Dad could beat up your Dad. My Dad could run faster than your Dad. My Dad married my Mom… your Dad didn’t. My Dad was a winner. My Dad never cried. My Dad was good at everything.

I have no illusion that two of my kids think I am invincible. They don’t. They are teenagers and they get it… most of the time. They know that I can’t do everything. They know that there are people out there that can beat me up (John Cena, Stone Cold Steve Austin – I do get cool points for Steve as we went to college together). I can run faster than many Dads… just not all of them. I cry at sad movies and the national anthem. I am not good at everything.

My 5 year old still thinks I can do anything. That is tough to live up to. But I try.

I have a friend that meets many of those criteria. Many of the same ones that I would have liked to have been. He’s big. Bigger than life itself sometimes. He takes over when he enters the room. He is hard to miss. He played football at two different colleges. He plays basketball the same way that I do. Find someone and lean on them… call for the ball… take it to the hole. Like me he has a wife and kids. He has a good job. And he loves basketball.

He calls me at least once per month to check in and to let me help him cover some miles. He travels quite often. Texas has many wide open spaces. Spaces that can get monotonous. I try to help whenever I can. Giving him anywhere from 5 to 30 miles of conversation. Helping him get home safely. Helping the time pass just a little faster.

He called me the other day. He needed a phone number of another friend. I didn’t have it but I tracked it down for him. No questions asked. He said he would call me. We needed to talk. Not unusual. He said he would call me back.

Several days passed and he called. He told me that he had some news for me. None of this was unusual as he always has a story to tell. I was not ready for this one. I was not prepared. I was floored.

He has cancer.

He is only two years older than me… and he has cancer.

It was a punch to the stomach for me. I was sick. We have been friends for 20 years. 20 years of having another brother. 20 years of life spent helping each other. 20 years of laughs. 20 years of competing with each other. 20 years… half of my life.

Like usual for him he has consulted the best. He has several options and he has a plan. A plan to live.

My friend is mortal… but he is a fighter… here’s to 20 more years of laughs… and playing on the low block.

Monday, Janurary 12 my Dad would have been 78. I miss him. 

My youngest will be six in June. He never knew his grandfather… he was born after my Dad died. 

My Dad was a hat guy… looked good in them… wore them often… this is for you Dad…

hats

I had to leave work for about two hours yesterday. I had to go home to meet the delivery people. I didn’t realize that this trip would lead to me earning back part of my man card. That stems from a post that I wrote a while back. One of my Kinder teachers said it should be revoked. Back to my story…

My lovely wife and I bought a new washer and dryer on Saturday. Money off and 18 months no interest. We opted for the new and modern front loading washing machine and the paired dryer.

The machines are a little larger than our old ones. I was afraid they wouldn’t fit and we would have major issues. But, alas, the fit was perfect. The guys ran them through a short test to make sure they worked. One of the installers gave me the review of how to use them. Not quite the same as the slick sales guy at the store. I smiled and nodded… knowing I would have to read the manual… which I have done… kind of.

You are reading this and wondering when am I going to get my man card back… isn’t laundry a woman’s job? Not in my house… I do the majority of the laundry… except for Tyler’s… he is on his own… that is a blog in itself. Back to the man card.

When Riley and I got home we had to tryout the new machines. I asked him if he wanted to play a game or put laundry in the washer. The washer won. The new toy. We loaded the washer with towels. We read the directions together. Put soap, yes High Efficiency (HE) soap in the dispenser. Riley dialed up towels on the display and pushed start. It was on.

I got a stool and we sat and watched the washer run… for 54 minutes. 

Yes… the two of us on a stool… for 54 minutes… watching clothes tumble and spin. What a spectacular show it was.

When the last spin cycle finished the washer played a song to let us know it was done. The door unlocked. Riley opened and removed the towels placing them in the dryer. He spun the dial to towels and pushed play.

He wanted to watch the towels dry. The estimated time was 54 minutes. I don’t think either of us could have sat and watched 54 minutes of towels tumbling.

Riley went to bed with the visions of precision machinery cleaning our clothes. I’m such a proud father.

The towels dried in twenty minutes. In the words of Mike Rowe, “Let’s get dirty” I have a new washer and dryer to use.

I was driving home from work the other day with two of my boys. As we drive into my neighborhood, my twelve year old cries foul. I ask him what he is talking about and he says, “It’s still September and people are putting up Halloween decorations.”

Now I’m not one to run from Halloween. I think it is a great day. One of the best of the year. It’s not great because of the candy or the costumes (wait… maybe that part is good). It is great because it is my birthday… I digress.

What gives people the right to put up the Halloween stuff before October? Most of what I have seen was put up before the official beginning of fall (that was Tuesday). So… tomorrow… I’m going to take some pictures of the offenders work and post it here… you be the judge.

Wait… what is that noise… is Walmart putting up Christmas decorations already?

Why does it happen? You are sitting at a great place, enjoying a great meal, and always enjoying great company, and then it happens. One of your kids spills something.

If records are kept in the spill department, the raining world champion is my oldest son, Drew. Not once… not twice… but three times.

My oldest brother Gary and his “girlfriend” (I put that in quotations just in case Big Daddy is reading this… and believe me… that is a blog in itself) had gone to Colorado for vacation. The problem was his car became unusable during the trip. My Dad called me and asked if I would mind going to get him. I could take his conversion van and take the kids… and my wife… and his credit card.

Being the devoted son and brother that I am I said yes. Picked up the van (and the credit card) and headed northwest. It took us two days to get there… and what an adventure.

At our first stop, a pleasant restaurant in Wichita Falls, Drew ordered a soft drink and a hamburger. Within minutes of the meal being ordered and the drinks being served, it happened. Drew knocked over his drink.

The waitress was so happy to replace it. After being embarrassed at his clumsiness, he proceeded to take great care in nursing his drink… for about two minutes… then it happened again. Drew knocked this one over as well. The next drink came with a lid.

We traveled on, stopping in a town just inside the border of Colorado from New Mexico. It was late and we were all road weary… and hungry.

We checked into a motel and then tried out one of the local establishments. After placing our orders (Drew ordered a hamburger) and getting our drinks… it happened for the third time that day. Drew knocked over his drink. The next one… and all subsequent drinks on the trip had mandatory lids.

Fast forward about eight years. Last night we were eating dinner and my middle son, Tyler (12), knocked over his drink. We chuckled… because every time someone in our party knocks over a drink… we are reminded of the trifecta that Drew completed.

What made it so special last night was that the waiter cleaned up the mess… brought a replacement for Tyler… a regular sized glass… with a lid and a straw.

I know you had to be there… but it was funny… very funny… and the waiters tip was increased appropriately.

I get to go back to work tomorrow! I don’t have to go back to work… I get to go back to work. Okay… I have to go back. Wells Fargo and my wife say I have to go back.

That is not why I go back… I go back because I get to. I get to do what many people on the face of this earth only dream of… I get to make a difference.

Four years ago I was standing in the hallway of Birdville High School talking to a parent of an incoming 9th grader. He didn’t know me… I didn’t know him. He wanted some special treatment for his daughter. He had spoken to her counselor and her assistant principal… and didn’t get what he wanted. I was his next stop.

He only wanted his daughter to take six classes instead of the required seven. With her selection of classes this would not allow her to have an open class at either end of the day… the opening would be smack dab in the middle. He only wanted her to take six classes because that seventh one… the one in question… she couldn’t find anything that interested her. I felt for her.

I told Dad that school board policy required all 9th graders to take seven classes… but I would look at her schedule to see what we could do. Before I got the chance… he called me a paper pushing bureaucrat… A PAPER PUSHING BEURACRAT…

Obviously Mr. Man (not his real name) had never been to my office… paper wasn’t pushed… it sat… gathering dust… until it was needed… or there was nothing else to do. I was not a bureaucrat… I see the world in shades of gray… not black and white… policy smolicy… we have to look out for the best interests of kids. He didn’t know me…

No… he didn’t know me… but he just assumed that I was just some old has been coach who got into administration… I was never a has been coach… I made a difference in the lives of kids on the athletic field… bureaucrat…

I tried to find a solution for Mr. Man… couldn’t find one that was acceptable to him… couldn’t find one that would fit for his daughter… but I looked… I looked hard.

As I start my second full year at the helm of my elementary school… I continue to have that hope… that I can make a difference in the life of a kid… or 450 of them.

I GET to work with a wonderful staff. Count them all up and there are about 70 of them… I hired 1/2 of them… not 35… half of one. In my time there I have hired only a part time position. No one ever leaves!

I GET to go to school and make a difference. I don’t push paper… (it just sits on my desk… unless you are reading this Dr. Waddell… it is filed neatly and in triplicate where applicable)… I am not a bureaucrat.

In my district we love to look at data… we add it up… we subtract it… divide it… use some weird formulas to figure stuff out with it…

One thing that data doesn’t have is a face… the kids have faces… and for that I am truly grateful…

I GET to go back to work tomorrow… and I am so excited… I can’t wait…

… let me give you about twenty thousand words…