The Last Post

153 Sundays to go.

The Bible tells of the Apostles going fishing and catching exactly 153 fish.

     California governor, Jerry Brown signed into law a measure that will make it easier to fire teachers in California.     This law will effectively end this blog.   I cannot take a chance that I will get fired over anything said in this blog.  I have spoken of recovery in this blog and my past alcoholism could be construed as dangerous and I should not be around children.  Despite the fact that my alcoholism was always conducted away from school in the evenings and on weekends. This is just another in a series of moves that the right wing and the super rich have orchestrated to get rid of the “evil teacher unions.”    Proponents will argue it was necessary to take away the rights of dedicated hard working teachers to be able to quickly punish the tiny, tiny few who do admittedly horrible things and should be removed from teaching and punished.
       But the real reason for the law is to begin to systematically get rid of the teacher unions.    They will first go after the brave union leaders.   They  will find small things, blow them out of proportion and with the help of the corporate media further undermine the profession.    In short time, public education will be privatized for the profit of the super rich which is the eventual goal.  Without a strong union, teachers will be working for a minimum wage with little benefits and no hope for retirement.    Teaching will no longer be a career.   Our young people will be taught by people without the rigorous training now required.    Who is going to get a 4 year degree and endure another 2 year teacher credentialing classes to make minimum wage?     This teacher credentialing program will be ended because they won’t be able to find enough qualified teachers.   Then they will institute their own watered down credentialing program, for profit of course. A quality education will be a thing of the past.
       I publish this last blog to establish closure with the few of you who were reading.   I will not delete the blog in case someone suffering might find something helpful.
     Good luck to you and may everything go your way.

Tinge of Agression

154 Sundays to go.

Shakespeare wrote 154 sonnets. I’ve read 0 of them not even the Cliff Notes. I appreciate lines like “full of sound and fury signifying nothing” which will be on my tombstone. I know people who say they love Willie once they took a class and someone explained what was going on. I don’t want to work that hard.
Up until 1961, Major League Baseball played 154 games before increasing to the present day 162.

I began a daily meditation practice of 20 minutes this week in the evening while my wonderful wife was watching her favorite show. I don’t do the full lotus, or even the half lotus because its too painful. I can’t get my legs into that position. I remember seeing my 8 year old students sit on the floor and sitting on their butts. Then they put their legs underneath them into an “M” shape. That’s a flexibility I never had even as a youth 50 years ago. I tell that to my students and tell them about the “M” shape and half of them immediately flop into it beaming at me as I stare in amazement. I used to sit cross legged on a meditation cushion but now I don’t even do that. When I get up 20 minutes later I’m stiff and hobbling. If I thought I would loosen myself up eventually and get used to it, I would persist but I tried and it doesn’t get better. So now I just sit comfortably on my bed with my back straight. Again, I don’t want to work that hard. The Buddha called it the middle way. Why torture myself?

The first day went fine, boring but fine. But that’s the meditation, to be aware of the boredom and be ok with what is happening. The second day, I realized about 5 minutes into it that I forgot to send an email and spent another 3 minutes conceptually thinking about the email. I knew I could just do it later but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I tried to be fine with not being able to do it. I tried being fine that I was uncomfortable with not being able to do it. Then I just got up and did the email. Hell, its just one day. Later I thought that’s how, in my alcoholism, I used to confront wanting to drink. I would tell myself all the reasons why I shouldn’t but then I would still find myself driving to the liquor store getting alcohol. Oh, well. I’ll just have a couple. A couple turned into another vicious hangover and all the regrets and bad feelings that come with another alcoholic ass kicking.

The next day, right before I went in for meditation I started thinking about a recent situation where I was wronged and what I should have done and said. It was too late to turn it around but still mind was racing and the angry feelings of martyrdom were percolating. I went in and sat with it. I felt the feelings and then about 3 minutes later I realized I was not meditating but deep in martyrdom and wasted the last 3 minutes. I got back in and was OK with not feeling OK but a little while later had gone back into the “land of what’s not happening” and quit. I knew again I should just ride it out but saw myself getting up rather than confront what was really happening. I was “not content with what I was experiencing.”

I read a column in Shambala Sun by Sakyong Mipham, the son of Chogyam Trungpa. He said, “…you are experiencing a tinge of aggression, which manifests as a feeling of disharmony and uneasiness. We are not content with what we are experiencing.” I was not content with being bored, not being able to do the email or the feelings of being wronged.
He goes on to say we have a natural ease and clarity. I stumbled upon this when I used to use Thich Nhat Hanh’s method of a half smile during meditation. Sounds ridiculous to be smiling like an idiot when you’re by yourself with nothing obvious to be smiling about. But, you know what? It works. Turns out subconsciously you know you have lots to be smiling about. Conceptual mind or ego blocks it out. Ego survives on being in turmoil. It was easy and natural and is always instantly available.

I was armed to use that the next day in meditation. I was going to smile when I felt like getting up. I never got the chance. The meditation went off without a hitch. A little boring in spots but then I’m trying to get over that sometimes life is just what it is and it is just is sometimes. In fact it always just is. Smiling and being happy is easy. When I do it, I sometimes just disappear and become the happiness. I feel the boundaries of what I take myself to be expanding. There is a pressure in my head and a feeling that I am expanding my physical space. It is a little scary. I wonder when I do it if it could be dangerous. Maybe I won’t snap out of it and will disappear.

I remember once having an out of body experience when I was in high school after smoking a lot of pot. I was lying in my bed and I had this sense that I was above myself. I sensed my family around me talking about me as if I had died or that I never snapped out of the high and I was just lying there as a vegetable. It was scary and it bothered me for a few days after. Maybe the memory of that still lingers when I do that meditation. I’ll lose what I take myself to be. From what I read and hear from the masters that exactly what I should want to happen. Still its a scary proposition turning away from exactly what ego has built to protect itself. Ego wants it to be scary.

I will keep it going. No word yet on when I’m going to start my daily guitar practice again. First things first. At least that’s what I’m going with.

Summer Boredom

155 Sundays to go.

Kate Middleton’s phone was hacked 155 times by a News of the World reporter. http://time.com/99781/kate-middleton-phone-hack/ This is how far journalism has degenerated. Also the length the corporate media will go to report celebrity scandals instead of how they’re screwing the middle class.
Here’s a video giving a taste of what it feels like going 155 mph in a Lambborghini. http://www.cbsnews.com/news/what-it-feels-like-155-in-a-lamborghini/ I didn’t watch it. Wasn’t interested. Going 80 makes me nervous.

Always takes me awhile to fully comprehend that the school year is over. I know it conceptually.   Obviously I don’t have to devote time to preparing lessons for the next week but mentally I’m still there.   I find myself pulling weeds in the garden thinking, “I wonder if I tried this with Geraldo if he’d catch on.”    Then about 5 minutes later I realize a) I had no idea I just pulled up a couple of things that weren’t weeds because I was off in educational la-la land and b) I don’t even have a kid named Geraldo.     Then I go off again into another mental time zone while I try to replant the flower I pulled up by mistake.
I also think about difficult challenges as if they are happening in the present moment and feel the physical energy angst that arises with negativity.    I’m not in the present moment.   I’m back in the “land of what’s not happening” as recovery guru, Paul Hedderman likes to say.   I snap out of it, try to enjoy what is actually happening but soon I’ll be time traveling again.
The first week or two is very nice but then I start to get a little bored.    I don’t usually tell people that because rather than having sympathy for me they get pissed off.   And who wouldn’t?   Who’s going to feel sorry for someone laying around the house bored while they’re working their ass off? They wish they could be so bored. I try to remember how I am in September when I’m trying to control a group of kids and get them to concentrate.   I’m running around like a chicken with my head cut off and it doesn’t seem to be going anywhere.  I get pissed off thinking about how I was bored sitting around doing nothing. So where would I rather be?   Back in September wanting to scream out loud or bored because I’m not having going-to-Disneyland fun.   A good portion of my alcoholism stemmed from my perception of being “bored.”   Being really, really drunk was more fun than real life.
This summer like every summer I have plans to fight the boredom and accomplish something.   I’m a hack guitar player who isn’t very good because I don’t play enough.    So why not set a goal to play for at least 30 minutes a day?   So, I do but I then realize why I stop.   It’s very frustrating because I want to be Eddie Van Halen but I’m having difficulty smoothly playing easy pieces.    But I just have to fight through it and remember the goal is to play for 30 minutes whether I’m terrible or not.    This year I thought I could also combine it with my awareness exercises.   While playing be aware that I’m playing and notice the negative energy while I’m playing that causes me to stop.   I stop because subconsciously I don’t like the negative energy.    I will play and while playing notice the energy and play through it.   Notice it is not me but is just energy. I’ll get better while consistently playing for 30 minutes a day.   Playing the guitar will once again be fun.
I can watch baseball and practice awareness.   I like baseball but start getting frustrated because I don’t like the way it is going.    So what?   What do I have to do with the game.   Accept that the outcome is not going the way you want.    Feel the energy and let it ride itself out.    Appreciate that I’m home lying on a couch watching baseball instead of being captive and stressed out at work.    Rest into the feelings and feel them completely.   Enjoy that your home watching great players play a great sport.
I also want to start a daily meditating practice again.   I meditated for years but stopped.   I got into Advaita.   The advaita masters say they’re basically in meditation all day long by being in awareness.    I used that as an excuse because the reality is that meditation is difficult.    Meditation done correctly is not just zoning out.    It’s being aware totally without conceptual thought.   But when I meditate, conceptual thought keeps creeping in.    It creeps in so insidiously that I don’t even realize it.   Just suddenly I become aware that I have been thinking about something that happened two weeks ago for the last 2 minutes.    Then I get frustrated.    Then I feel bad about it because I’ve wasted my time and I’ll never get any good at this and blah-blah-blah…again doing anything BUT being in non conceptual awareness.    But like the guitar playing it takes practice.   But don’t quit just because I’m frustrated.   As they say in AA, “don’t quit 5 minutes before the miracle happens.”

The Last Week of School

156 Days to go.

156 people died in the ferry boat disaster off South Korea on 4/23/14.

Today at 4PM is the last day I will have to realize the weekend is over and I will be back to the grind tomorrow. It seems almost unreal that there is only one more week of school. At the beginning of the year in August, June 13th is too hard to even imagine. Almost as far off as 156 Sundays from now. As unreal as imagining an America middle class that has not been ruined by the Republicans and their giveaway of our nation’s wealth to the corporations and the richest 1%.

But it is almost here. One week to go. Little markers start occurring to me, like tomorrow will be the last time, my wonderful wife and I will have to drag our carcasses up on a Monday morning. Monday will be the last full day before minimum days the rest of the week. I have already started dividing the day into fractions. I had a lesson with my 3rd graders showing them the full hours of the day we are in school, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 1, and 2. Then we brainstormed what each hour’s fraction would be if we broke the day into fractions. It is on a chart in front of the class. Every hour they can raise their hand and say, “Mr. Smirthwaite, there is now only four and two-thirds days left in the school year.” They’re pretty excited about it too knowing they only have 4 and 2/3 days of dealing with Mr. Smirthwaite. Actually I’m always surprised at what a high percentage of kids are dreading the end of the year. I’m a hard task master and I drive them pretty hard. But I’ve found that children prefer a disciplined class setting with a strict teacher. The rules are well-defined and strictly followed and they find comfort in that. Some of their home situations are all over the map and my class is the only security some of them have. At the end of the year some of them are crying and don’t want to leave. This year might be especially hard since I have had some of them for two years. I was moved from 2nd to 3rd last year and “looped” the majority of them.

I appreciate that teachers get 2 and half months off during the summer. I got into teaching late when I was 37 years old. My wonderful life had been teaching since she got out of school while I had office jobs. Always used to be jealous in the summer that my carcass was still having to be dragged out of bed while she got to stay there. I understood that she earned it and seriously, the same gig and summers off was open to me. I just had to go back to school after a four year degree and go to another 2 years full-time to get a teaching credential. Then I had to face the rigorous pressures of teaching and the pressure of being responsible for the safety of 26 children as well as the endless daily lesson preparations. Then I had to go there and actually handle a class all day and deliver a challenging curriculum to children who frankly would rather be outside screaming their heads off or playing video games. The same “cushy” 2 and a half months a year off is available to everyone. Well not for long if the republicans and the rich they serve are able to privatize it and make a profit off it. Then we’ll have the same gig only two hours of class time longer, do it 48 weeks out of the year, for zero benefits, no chance of retirement, at minimum wage and be made to feel grateful for being screwed over. We’ll have the same restrictions if not more of how we can teach. And if we don’t like it we can quit and go work at 7-11. Of course the quality of teaching will disappear because only someone insane would want to go through that. Teachers are dedicated but we all have our limits.

The last week is no cakewalk despite the minimum days of actual instructional time. The preparation is the same. I teach until the end of the last day. Some teachers cut back a little and try to do more fun activities but I find the children can sense that and their behavior begins to go south. I lead them to believe that every lesson counts even though their grades are already being determined. They have to be entered into the computer on Wednesday to be run off and passed out on Friday. On the last day in fact, I’m giving a spelling test and they think its going to make or break them passing on to the next grade.

There is a little bit of fun. Tomorrow we are going on a walking field trip to the park for an end of the year celebration and picnic. We make a year book that has a lot of room for their creative illustrations. They think they’re really getting away with something. I let them sit with their friends as long as they can work quietly. We have more enjoyable writing prompts. I’m busy going through my files, organizing my cabinets and putting together their grades. Every once in a while, I stop and give a student who is getting a little boisterous my best Mr. Smithwaite glare. He or she feels the heat and settles down. That’s when a strong and consistently reinforced behavior management system pays off. I don’t have to scream and yell. A quick, serious teacher look is all that is necessary. He or she goes back to what the student should have been doing in the first place and I’m done.

The last day is just a whirlwind. On the drive to school, my wife and I usually listen to a public radio jazz station or a classical radio station. We both cannot stand the man and woman radio team banter about the Kardassians or the shockrock DJ delivery. But we found this public radio station that plays Hawaiian music on Fridays. At 7AM they always lead with a song called “Aloha Friday.” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kOvS34KxsQU The chorus goes “It’s Aloha Friday. No work til Monday.” The last day we’ll sing, “It’s Aloha Friday. No work til August.” And we’ll laugh like we’re listening to a Richard Pryor stand up. We’ll laugh until my wonderful and careful wife realizes I’m occupying two lanes from being doubled over, people are honking at me and she has to snap me back to reality.

Once the day begins the students have some seat work and some fun activities and I’m a duck. Calm and controlled on top of the water for the benefit of a calm classroom. Underneath, I’m paddling like hell because I have a million things to complete and barely enough time to do it. Somehow it all gets done. The last half hour, we empty and clean our desks, push them all to one side for the custodians and their summer cleaning. We then gather around Mr. Smirthwaite for one last speech. I tell them how proud I am, how much they’ve grown and I always at some point turn on the water works. I get choked up and no matter how much I try I cannot control it. I know its coming but I still get choked up, can’t finish a sentence, start again, sputter again and the kids are staring at me like I’m some sort of freak. And I am. But its good for children to see a man get emotional and cry and tell them how much he cares about them. The one line that always opens up the floodgates for me is when I say, “and next year I hope you come back to visit me. Because at that point I won’t be your teacher anymore, I’ll be your friend.” We all have a group hug and rain a few more tears and suddenly its over. Incredibly, the whole thing is over. I straighten some last minute things, shove and cram loose ends into closets and cabinets and close the locked door behind me. I turn in my keys to the secretary and walk out to my car. It is a bizarre feeling pulling out of my parking space and leaving the parking lot. I turn right and head for my wonderful wife’s school. It’s over. It’s really over. I can’t believe it. I made it another year.

From Kevin Bacon to Nick Nolte

157 Sundays to go.

157 dead pigs were fished out of a Chinese river. http://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/mar/19/chinese-authorities-157-dead-pigs-river Only environmental concerns were addressed in the article. It fails to answer the most obvious question: How did 157 pigs get in the river? I could see 2 or 3 but isn’t it odd that some lemming affect could bring 157 pigs to the same fate? “Hey, where is Porky going? Looks like he’s going swimming. Hey, that looks like fun?” Maybe some dude or dudes put them in there but c’mon man give? I want answers!!!
157 people people died in a coal mining blast in Turkey this month. http://latino.foxnews.com/latino/news/2014/05/13/157-dead-in-coal-mine-blast-in-turkey/
I was born in 1(9)57. A few months ago I had a revelation that I am 57 years old and I was born in 1957. This is really trippy I thought and look how brilliant I am that I put this together. Until I realized that this happens to everyone. Everyone who was born in 2007 will probably turn 7 this year. Oooohhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!! Jeez, I’m a freaking Einstein! Put me on the Discovery Channel.

I really didn’t want to write this but its so childish I just have to. It’ll be therapeutic to throw it out and in the process get rid of it. But if I stumbled on this blog and read this crap I’d think, “this guy’s an immature attention freak. If he has any friends, they’re probably superficial. He probably posts selfies of himself on facebook and goes back all day to see if anyone “likes” it. What a geek!!!!!!” This is one reason why I have told no one about this blog not even my wonderful wife. If I know my audience I probably would be altering what I write to make it acceptable. I’m a people pleaser and this is definitely not pleasing.

The pain of separation was semi-acute last night. There is this teacher I used to work with who I am friends with on Facebook. She left our school 5 years ago. She was an exceptional teacher who also shared my liberal beliefs and I connected with her. Or so I thought. The past few years I have posted mindfulness teachings that I thought she would resonate with once or twice to her page and made comments on things she has written but never got anything back. And then last night she made a post about kids with a class picture of kids in her 4th grade class(including some I had the year before in the 3rd grade) who are now graduating from high school. She tagged a few teachers (including one teacher who we both didn’t have a lot of respect for)but not me. That was the last straw and I childishly unfriended her. That’ll show her. I’m sure she’ll really notice one less than her 400 something friend count that grows every day.

There’s a lot of things going on here. But they’re all based on my false identity of self. This self that I have unconsciously developed over the years to deal with emotional discomfort. I thought about this as I usually do when I feel any emotional discomfort. There is this ugly negative dark cloud feeling inside me that arises. I have been doing awareness techniques for a few years now so I am usually if not in constant contact with my sensations, I’m at least in the neighborhood. Negative emotions are usually not around for very long. I sense them. I notice them and then feel them without conceptual thinking until they dissipate. I don’t notice when they aren’t there anymore. I just realize a when the subject pops up again that I’m no longer feeling bad and remember that a while back I was. I have a cold sore analogy. When you have a cold sore its all you can think about. But when it goes away, you don’t realize it has gone. The next day or days after you think, “oh, yeah, remember that burning painful cold sore I had a few days ago? It’s gone.” I’m not conscious of the immediate release of the painful emotions.

I sensed the bad emotional feeling and realized it was because of the slight of this “friend.” I knew it was ridiculous because I knew her barely 5 years ago. We never really hung out but saw each other in passing, shared a laugh or hanging around the staff room making copies or sat together a couple of times in staff meetings. I don’t think she had the same reverence for me that I had for her. I’m a loose cannon and sometimes say inappropriate things to get a laugh or to try to draw attention upon myself when I’m feeling inadequate. She is was very dignified and careful about how she presented herself. She probably was glad to not have to deal with me again. We all know people we don’t wish ill will on but if we never saw them again it would be no big loss. She probably accepted me as a friend on Facebook because its tacky not to. So, I’m sensing this emotional bad feeling and the usual “notice, be aware, let it ride out” is not working. Probably because I can’t help but go back to conceptual thinking of all the things I just outlined. I’m feeling less than.

I also have to admit that I am feeling this horrible pride that I am better than someone. I feel that I am better than that other teacher who she feels is OK enough to socialize with. I cannot accept that I am a worthless piece of crap and she is not. Two things are wrong with that. One is the obvious that all humans are equal. I am not better than anyone else. And the second less obvious is that I am psychologically dependent on others and have a need for everyone to like me. Probably comes from being the youngest by 5 years in my family. I cannot accept my own self worth. I need someone else to validate it. Obviously my wonderful wife thinks I am far more than acceptable. The others in my family love me. My students adore me. But one person from 5 years ago that I barely knew isn’t overwhelmingly star struck with me and I have an emotional meltdown. Aren’t there some people I have been acquainted with that I am at least neutral about? Why does everyone have to think I am wonderful? She probably doesn’t even dislike me. I am just forgettable to her.

It goes against this unconscious image I have of myself. Every now and then I have this semi-conscious mental picture of myself. Probably everybody does. It’s that unconscious image that crops up when we are embarrassed, insecure but also flattered. I’m not looking in the mirror but there’s this hazy mental image. When things are right there’s this nice guy who’s funny, cool, and Kevin Baconish attractive. That’s the guy I’ve been compared to. This positive image I have is not what everyone else see. For one thing the guy I unconsciously see is in his 20’s. I am 57. I never study myself in the mirror because frankly I’ve never liked what I saw. I look at myself two times a day when I get out of the shower and have to comb my hair and brush my teeth and at the end of the day when I’m also brushing my teeth. But I’m focused on the hair and teeth. And not even there 100% because I’m locked on something that happened yesterday or something that’s going to happen tomorrow. Once a couple of months ago I happened to look at the whole package in the mirror. Even though I’m considered young looking for my age I really saw the face lines and the grey hair. It was kind of shocking. I’m not always cool and composed. Sometimes I’m in my own world and preoccupied. The reality is that I look somewhere in between a 20 year old relaxed Kevin Bacon and that DUI photo of Nick Nolte with definite leanings more towards Nolte. I have never seen myself not with a nice look on myself because that’s my face when I’m looking in the mirror. I never have the look in the mirror when I’m annoyed or angry. Maybe that’s not a wonderful sight to behold.

Anyway, this too shall pass. The cold sore of this former friend will soon be nothing. Still it bothers me that I have these feelings of separation. I keep thinking that one day I won’t have these feelings but maybe that’s wrong too. They are just sensations. And sensations are not wrong. The suffering happens when thoughts give way to conceptual thoughts about the sensations. They arise and pass away.

Up Against the ’27 Yankees

158 Sundays to go.

158 home runs were hit by the 1927 New York Yankees Murderers’ Row, which included Lou Gehrig and Babe Ruth. This team is always the team mentioned in reference to scary offensive teams but this isn’t even close to the record of 264 hit by the 2000 Seattle Mariners. But in the dead ball era of Major League Baseball, home runs weren’t as plentiful and the pitching today… blah-blah-blah, you don’t care about boring historical baseball crap and I’m surprised you got this far.
There were 158 episodes of the TV series The Dick Van Dyke Show that ran on CBS from 1961 to 1966. I always loved when Rob and Laura Petrie would be having one of those house parties. Then people, Buddy, Sally etc, would take turns entertaining and suddenly someone would ask Rob and Laura to do something and they would look around embarrassed and say well, Ok. Then a huge Broadway number would ensue. Like that happens in every household. I never remember my parents breaking into an impromptu Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers number on a whim.

         After my several relapses in alcoholism, I had moments when I felt I had no control of mind or body.     I would have horrible hangovers and feelings of “incomparable demoralization.”    I would be lying in bed in great pain physically and emotionally and would be absolutely convinced that last night was the end and that today was Day 1 of my final recovery.
          I would remain with this resolution until about mid afternoon when both the physical and mental pain began to subside.    Slowly that “stinking thinking” would creep in that the world was right again and maybe my alcoholism wasn’t as bad as I thought.   And, of course, I would find myself drinking again and the same lovely scene would be replayed the following morning.
          The last few years I had discovered through my reading of Zen and Tibetan Buddhism the doctrine of emptiness, that I am empty of a separate self.    This led me to Advaita and the idea that what I truly am is that which is aware of all that I see and feel.   The Buddha taught that I am awareness but it is through Advaita that this was driven home to me.      I would use this as a tool when I was trying to get sober.    I am not my thoughts.    What is it that wants to drink?    It is just a thought.    Watch it and it will begin to dissipate.    I am not my body.    What is it that is craving the feeling of being really drunk? It is just a sensation.    Feel it and watch it and it will begin to dissipate.
           This was really effective if there was no alcohol around.    I was (and AA says I still am) a sneak drinker so I would sneak alcohol into the house.    Once the alcohol was available, I am not the body and mind became just words and it was on “like Pokémon.”   The real trick was to get “not the body and mind” to work when I was out on my own and the thought to go buy alcohol would enter the thought process.   Unfortunately, I rarely employed it.    Sometimes I tried but it was like a little league pitcher facing the ’27 Yankees.     The method to stay sober would get lit up and be raked all over the park.     I would be driving and thinking, “Think about what you are doing?”, “What is it that is wanting to drink?”   I would see myself pulling into the parking lot of the liquor store.   I would be thinking no, dude, stop but it would continue.   I would see myself walking in and walking up to the counter and thinking there is still time, you can stop.     Then I would hear myself asking the guy behind the counter for several of the little airline bottles of vodka that I could hide in my socks and sneak into the house.     The thoughts would then stop as I was paying because at that point it was on “like Pokémon.”    Now I would have the exciting buzz in my body that soon I would be drinking.
            After finally working the steps of AA with a sponsor I have broken the conditioning of drinking.    I no longer want to drink.    When the idea of drinking hits it is noticed and replaced with the idea that if I drank I would lose the beautiful feeling of being in awareness.
            I bring all this up because I still lose control of body and mind with my over eating.    I have been successful the last 5 days of eating normally.    But like with alcohol, the key is not having any extra crap “hanging around” as my wonderful wife likes to say.     I get free coupons from my cell phone provider for Ben and Jerry’s so I usually have that around.    My wonderful wife discovered shelled pistachios and I could go into the cupboard and scoop up a fistful.    Luckily she has control and she decided to stop buying those because she was also eating them indiscriminately.    My wonderful wife is a “normy” which is an AA term for people who drink normally.    She likes a beer or glass of wine or two now and again but stops.     She also eats the same way. She likes good food in small portions.   I like crap food in large Costco size portions.     Now all non essential food stuffs are out of the house.
            Just like with my drinking, I have trouble outside of the house.   On Friday at recess, I was on the 3rd day of proper eating when the idea occurred to me at to stop in the break room at school to see if someone brought treats.    Sometimes some nice person will bring doughnuts or some homemade delicacy.     Just like driving around by myself during my alcoholism, I was thinking, “What are you doing?” “You don’t need that crap?” “Oh, I just want to see what’s in there.”   That of course was bs because there would be no just looking if there was a box of doughnuts.    But I couldn’t stop.   I kept going.    I watched myself walk up the ramp to the break room.   I was telling myself to stop.   I got to the door.   No, dude,  don’t go in.    I opened the door and mercifully no one brought anything.
          Still, I couldn’t stop and that is bothersome.    I need to start meditating again.   I need to sit down and practice watching my thoughts.    Here’s where the excuses start.   “I can’t do it now.   I got Stanley Cup games every night.    I’ll get started during the finals when the games are every other day.   No, wait.    The World Cup starts in 3 weeks.    I won’t want to start then.   After the World Cup.    Yeah, that’s it!    After the World Cup.     Then I’ll get a daily practice going.    Yeah, that’s it.   No interruptions then.   No good doing it now.   Yeah, after the World Cup.”

Don’t Do That Again!!!

159 Sundays to go.

159‘s roman numeral is CLIX which in correct spelling is a word with multiple meaning. For example, “Halfway through reading this moronic blog, she clicks the X on the top right corner of her computer screen.”
159 people died in the ferry boat disaster off Seoul, Korea on April 19, 2014. http://news.yahoo.com/skorea-ferry-toll-hits-159-relatives-wait-013618151.html
159 teachers will be laid off in the Anchorage (Alaska) School District so that the richest 1%, who have more money than anyone could possibly spend in countless lifetimes, wouldn’t have to spend another nickel in taxes. Meanwhile, middle class teacher families are affected and children get less of an education with higher class sizes. But the rich get to keep their yachts, nannies and 3rd vacation homes. http://www.thenation.com/blog/178094/anchorage-school-district-plans-cut-219-positions-including-159-teachers#

Normally I’m a polite and considerate driver. I don’t usually get mad at other people on the road. When they maneuver in some way that forces me to maneuver to avoid them or delays me, I am initially annoyed. But I come back to earth semi-quickly because they really didn’t do it to me. I was just there when they did it. No one was singling me out for suffering. Stuff happens and I was there when it happened. But sometimes I forget that and I am really the only one on the planet and “Why is this happening to me? Why doest thou forsake me, lord?!?!? And why are you making me speak in such an archaic way, lord?

Last week was one of those times when I lost my mind. After dropping my wonderful wife off at her school, I decided to take a quick stop at the school district office print shop where an order was waiting for me. We were a little earlier because traffic was lighter and I could get it out of the way. At our school we get a thousand copies a month on our school copy machine. Sounds like a lot but it never seems to be enough. Most teachers at our school run out at the end of the month. We can either suck it up and alter our assessments or we can go to the district print shop and pay out of our pocket for what we need. This is one of the many things most teachers pay for out of their own middle class salaries.

Swennyway (So, anyway), I picked up my order and was going back to my school. I went down the road and was behind an SUV who was stopped trying to make the same right I was at an intersection. This is a busy street and if you don’t go when you get the chance sometimes a long line of cars comes and its a while before you get another chance. The light was green and this SUV was not moving. Ok, no one’s coming the other way. I can wait a second before this guy wakes up and sees it is green. But he’s still not moving…and a second or two later he’s still not moving. I’m conservative with my horn blowing and don’t like to use it unless necessary but its becoming necessary. Finally, I can’t take it any longer and I blow the horn. He’s still not moving and I’m now getting annoyed and I’m in full blown “why is this happening to me? Why is the world against me? I have to get it work! I don’t have time for this!!!” mode. Really, I was only waiting a few seconds but it seemed like forever. I blow my horn again and I’m making wild motions with my arms and fists. Just before the moron finally wakes up and starts to make his right I see a crossing guard appear and he’s leading a child across the street in front of the SUV. That’s why the guy wasn’t moving. His 7 acre SUV was blocking my view of this slow moving guard and child and he was waiting patiently for them to safely cross. Patiently as he could with a moron behind him leaning on his horn and gesturing like a madman to do something he couldn’t do.

Of course I felt terrible and as karmic luck would have it he takes a right and I take a right and we end up parallel to each other going down the street. He looks over at me with a justifiably angry look on his face. His window was rolled down and he’s boring holes through me. I made bowing motions and pointing to myself, mouthing, “I’m sorry. I’m wrong.” Then I rolled my window down as we both came to a stop along side each other. I said, “I’m really sorry! I didn’t see that guard and child. I’m wrong! I’m really sorry!” I could tell he was still mad and had a right to be mad. Imagine what that guy went through. Trying to do the right thing and let the child and guard pass and not knowing what the psycho behind is going to do next. I could have been some gun humper about to brandish his pride and joy.

Finally before we both went off through the green light he says, “Don’t do that again!!!” Probably ruined the rest of his day. I know it killed mine. But he’s got a really good story to tell his co-workers and friends. Everyone loves to tell others about how they were wronged and get lots of sympathy. Even better no one can counter his story with how he should have done this or done that and the situation could’ve been avoided. He was completely in the right. He’s a saint. Me, I’m a jerk and what’s worse I think I recognized him. I think he’s a technology guy at the district except he was going a completely opposite direction away from the schools. So, maybe I will avoid another confrontation. But I would like to see him again and apologize more completely. Hopefully I have learned my lesson. But probably not. I’m human and when it really comes down to it, it’s all about me. My wants. My desires. Me, me, me.

12 Step Program for Cell Phone Users

160 Sundays to go

Text messages are limited to 160 characters. Here’s why: http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/technology/2009/05/invented-text-messaging.html
Scientists estimate there may be 160 billion alien planets. http://www.space.com/14200-160-billion-alien-planets-milky-galaxy.html

I don’t need a cell phone. I know in today’s consumerism/technogeek society that sounds as blasphemous as I hate God but I’m not a cell phone guy. My wonderful wife uses hers even less. I can get away with charging our phones once a week on Sunday night. The only time our phones are on is after school in case we need to get ahold of each other. Half the time one of us forgets and never turns it on. But it didn’t matter because neither one of us tried to call.
I have only sent one text in my life. Being a language/grammar elitist, I hated how everything was in lower case and with no punctuation. Even Shakespeare in text would come off like Snoop Dog or Jethro in the Beverly Hillbillies for those geriatric enough to dig that reference. I since have figured out there’s a button to change from letters to numbers and punctuation but again I’ve never needed to text anyone. And the hackles on my neck rise when I see “lol, omg, jk,” and all those other robotic abbreviations that say, “I refuse to say anything original or take the time to communicate my emotions.”

I had always resisted even getting a cell phone. I didn’t see the need of having access to a telephone 24/7. If I need to call someone I can wait until I get home or get to work. No one is ever interested in calling me and anyone who needs to get ahold of me can also wait until one of those two things happens. I tell that to people and they say that they need it in case their kids call. Why? My parents never had cell phones or thought they needed to have the ability to communicate with my ass or any part of my siblings’ anatomy every second of the day. They weren’t today’s helicopter parents who have a psychological need to hover over their children long past necessary. Mine could trust we could probably get by for a second or two without their Supreme Guidance and Presence.

Finally, my wonderful wife talked me into it. She thought it would be good to have in case our cars break down on the freeway and we need to call AAA. Everyone else on the planet had already had cell phones for years. We were such rookies. We had our phones for a couple of months and sure enough our car blew a tire on the freeway. But when I tried to call, the damn thing wouldn’t work. Seems you have to charge them occasionally. Other things run on batteries for months without having to change or charge the batteries. I never even considered you would have to charge the phone so often especially when it was rarely being used

I’m not at all curious about the things a phone can do. I’m not interested in “playing with it.” A colleague at work had to show me how to program it so all I had to do was hit a number and I could be dialing my wonderful wife’s phone. She also had to show me how to work the camera. To this day that picture of me with a bored “get on with it” look is still the only picture on either mine of my wife’s phone. We aren’t attention freaks. We don’t need to show people we were at this great place or this fun event. My wonderful wife is very lovely to look at but I know I’ll see the real deal pretty soon. Actually, I do want pictures of her but she hates having her picture taken and runs like a bat out of hell when a camera appears. And the world definitely doesn’t need any pictures of me.

Then people started getting smart phones. I hate paying $70 a month for the cell but definitely don’t want to pay another $30 in data fees. I don’t need 24/7 internet access. I don’t need to be able to see the Giants’ score while I’m sitting on the can in the restroom at Jack in the Box. My brother-in-law got one a few years ago and tried to tell everyone in his family (sister and 2 parents) how great they were. He’s still the only one who has one. He’s glued to the thing. Every time I see him, rarely 5 minutes goes by without him whipping out his phone/umbilical cord. I also see this as a problem with others. In the good old days, if you were in a crowded parking lot you could get lucky and see someone walking out to their car. You could just wait a minute because you knew they’d be backing out. Now 10 minutes goes by because they’re texting, checking their messages or probably humping their phone. There’s going to be a 12 Step program for cell phones like I have for my alcoholism or others for gambling or over eating. Step 1- I admitted I was powerless over my lust for my cell phone and my life had become unmanageable.

Guess I’m just Ted Kacynski without the penchant for hurting people. I resisted the 21st century with a fierce desire desparately wanting my psychological comfort of the late 1970’s. 2000 was 14 years ago but it seems still space age. One thing for sure, if you get behind me on the road you’ll know I’m not on my phone. I’m driving like a lunatic but I’m paying attention.

Sports Fans are Irrational

161 Sundays to go.

161 people died in the earthquake in the Philippines on October 17, 2013. Can you imagine if 161 Americans had died in some disaster? It would be wall-to-wall 24 hour coverage for months. It happens somewhere else or to others who are not Americans, it isn’t that important. Well its worth about 5 minutes if there are particularly gory pictures but it usually gives way to some celebrity scandal.
Liechtenstein has a land area of 161 square kilometers.

Sports fans are irrational. At least this one is. If you don’t follow a sports team, I envy you. If you do, you know the pain I am suffering. Or if you’re married to one, like my wonderful wife, you’ve seen this pathetic B movie before. “Oh, jeez, he’s lying in a fetal position, hugging his jersey, shaking and crying his eyes out. I better at least get him in the house before the neighbors see him.” Maybe you’ve escaped this dark night of the soul because you’re a bandwagon jumper and only openly root for teams that win year after year. My suffering is not rational. Why should I care. I don’t own the team. I don’t personally know any of the players. It really has nothing to do with me. But I’m suffering. And damn it, let me stay out here in the yard if I want to and show the world I support my boys.

I have a few favorite teams but my personal favorite is the hockey team, the San Jose Sharks. They were eliminated from the Stanley Cup playoffs this past week. They have never won the Stanley Cup. They have never been to finals. They have a reputation for underachieving, what some may call choking. And if ever a team’s loss could be labeled as choking, the Sharks this year are too late for a saving Heimlich maneuver. The Sharks held a 3-0 lead and needed only one game to win the series. Only 3 teams in the near 100 year history of the National Hockey League had ever been eliminated after holding a 3-0 lead. Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present the fourth team in that proud lineage:

Your 2013-2014 San Jose Sharks!

I have been a Sharks fan since their NHL inception in the 1991-1992 season. They were not only bad early but historically bad. They still hold the record for most losses in a season, having gone 11-71-2 the following year. Digest that for a minute. 71 losses out of 84 games. Still I watched every game that was on TV. This was before today’s era of every single game appearing on TV. So probably more than half of those demolishings the Sharks were only available to be enjoyed on radio. I listened to all of those too. I remember one really fun game when they were beaten 13-1 by the Calgary Flames on the road. It was such a bad year that I remember a particularly bright moment and cause for massive celebrations was when they tied, not beat, but only tied the powerful Montreal Canadiens at home on a goal in the last minute. That was David not beating but just kinda walking away from Goliath before he beat the crap out of him. This was before overtime and the shoot outs that today’s game has to avoid ties. So that was huge. A couple of years later when the Sharks had risen to mediocre status, I had a really bad flu. So bad that my wife was lobbying hard for me to go to the hospital. I’m like a lot of men. I refuse to go to the hospital unless a priest is being summoned for the last rites. They were playing in St. Louis against a team that was one of the top teams that year. They were gunning on all cylinders that night and shut them out 2-0. Almost immediately after the game I could feel my fever breaking. Other than at my wedding, I have never felt such a warmth and rush of well being and euphoria that wasn’t alcohol induced. I remain convinced to this day that the win had a lot to do with it.

The more recent Sharks’ teams have been contenders and own a spot in the top 10 of winning percentages among all 30 teams the past 10 years. They are expected to win and also expected to win the Stanley Cup one of these years. They’ve gotten close only to be eliminated usually by the team that put it all together to eventually win the big prize.

In April right before game 1, I have my usual Stanley Cup shrine going. In years past, I have a little mini Stanley Cup and I arrange a couple of framed autographed pictures of Sharks players around it. My wonderful wife isn’t crazy about this since she has great taste and busts her tail to maintain a house that is the envy of all who see it. But she allows me a little corner in our upstairs bedroom. To change things up this year I scrapped the pictures and instead went with The Cup along with a couple of bronze hockey figures that were made in Russia during the Soviet era. There is no correlation between the pictures and the Soviets, I just like those bronzes. Right before they dropped the puck, I changed into a Sharks Stanley Cup shirt I got a few years ago. I walked over, kissed my pointing and middle fingers and laid them mindfully into the bowl of the Cup. I did that the first 3 games and they were up 3-0. Just blew them out. For some reason I got complacent and totally forgot before Game 4 and they lost. No problem, they have 3 more to go. Each time I did the deed with the shirt and the kissing and it was 3-2, then 3-3 and now I’m getting worried. I wore a Sharks pin to school before the next one, hoping for a little game 7 mojo. Nope. They lose and they are now part of NHL history. I had trouble falling asleep that night. Again nothing to do with me, but its like you feel bad when your friends or relatives are suffering.

The next day, I did laundry, washing all of my Sharks stuff that I had been wearing that week. Luckily the salt from all the tears did not leave any bleaching marks and I put them away tenderly in the back of the closet and brought the San Francisco Giants stuff to the front of the closet. I’m now in orange and black as we speak.

I was really brutal in my analysis to those asking this week in my assessment of their loss. I called them chokers. I said they were soft. I said they need to blow up the whole team, fire the coach and the general manager. I’m never that brutal but a monumental, historical loss such as this called for a monumental, historical over reaction. I have since then come down off the ledge and realize as I did during the games they were letting slip away, that the reason they lost was not because they choked but because the other team was better the last 4 games. In particular the goaltender was out of his mind good. In hockey, a goaltender playing out of his mind can put a team on his back and win a series all by himself. That’s what happened. My brother also told me one statistic that made me feel better. I told you that only 4 teams in the history of the NHL have lost a series after being down 3-0. But he told me to keep my chin up because of those 4 teams, 2 of them went on the next year to win the Stanley Cup. That’s pretty cool and I’m going with it. Right up until next April or May when they crash and burn during another unsettling, shocking stretch of underachieving at just the worst time possible.

Ok, Let’s Try This

162 Sundays to go.

There are 162 games in a regular Major League Baseball season.
Poem #162 in an anthology of Ralph Waldo Emerson by Edmund Clarence Stedman is a poem called “Days.” Very fitting for this week as it is telling me to not look to any other time than this. http://www.bartleby.com/248/162.html Emerson was probably going for something entirely different but that’s what it says to me. Poetry was always over my head and as such was uninteresting. Rule #1: Always dismiss what you don’t understand.

Well, you’ll be shocked to know that didn’t work.

Drank coffee not only in the morning but also in the afternoon. I’m off this week so why submit to unnecessary suffering? Why deprive myself of gnashing and grinding my teeth and bouncing off the walls. I also participated in some gluttonous eating. My wonderful wife went to the dentist for a cleaning around lunchtime the same day I went to give my blood test after fasting for 12 hours. So, I stopped off at the McDonalds for a double quarter pounder without telling her. So as luck or karma would have it, when she gets back about an hour later she wants to go out to lunch. Always before she wouldn’t want to because her teeth were sensitive and she would rather have something easy on the mouth. I told her I already ate but it was “only” a sandwich and that we could still go out to lunch. Like a normal person, she replied that it sounded like a lot to her. I didn’t really want to eat more but I felt guilty to deprive her of what she wanted.

I went in for my cholesterol test this week and got positive results. The numbers were in line only because I upped my cholesterol medication to the prescribed dosage. I had heard that many people have concerns that statins haven’t been tested long term for their safety so I wanted to take as little of it as possible. I had gotten away with only 1 tab a day because I was eating normally and riding my elliptical bike vigorously for 20 minutes 3 days a week along with exercise before and after. I have been doing this for about a year with satisfactory testing results.

But ever since before Christmas I have been eating really horrible unhealthy stuff in huge quantities. My students gave me a lot of chocolate and just in general you are faced with a lot of unhealthy holiday eating. I could be turning it down or eating in moderation but I really crave overeating very unhealthy food.

About 2 months ago I had a blood test for cholesterol and the results were high. So, I went back to the prescribed 3 tab dosage and attempted to at least watch or I should say think about what I was eating. I gave up chocolate for lent but I was still eating things like donuts and the breakfast that is provided for the students. The breakfast is available for the teacher too but I already eat cereal in the morning before work. Eating a bagel with cream cheese is totally unnecessary.

This week I was going to take the car in to the tire center to get new tires. Our health care provider is about a mile away so I thought I would drop the car off and walk over for the test. But when I took the car in, I was told the tires would have to be ordered so I just drove over to take the test that day. It turned out to be a good move because I was told that the test required a 12 hour fast beforehand. I would have walked all the way over there for nothing. Also would’ve provided passing motorists with a story of a lifetime about the guy they saw walking down the road kicking himself in the ass with every step.

I have a new plan to combat my inability to control my eating. I’ve been reading the works of Sri Ramana Maharshi. I read something spiritual before bedtime and this week, Ramana has gotten the nod. I’ve read him before but it seems like every time I pick him up I get something new. I must have about 300 eastern spiritual books and I get something new every time I take another look at one of them. Probably has something to do with being in a different space than the last time I read it. I read the words but didn’t get the zing.

Ramana is all about looking at the “I” thought. There is a thought that I am. What is that thought? He teaches that if I just stay with the I or Self(Capital S Self not the selfish small s separate self) liberation will be attained. I’ve already been doing that as often as it occurs to me for the past year or so. There is a feeling of being me. What is that thought? And what is it that sees that? I do that when I turn off the lights and go to sleep. It is the last conscious thought I have. I have noticed that I am much more at peace. I also never have alcoholic thoughts anymore. If I think about drinking, it goes away quickly because I would rather be in awareness of being than drunk. If I was drunk, I would not be in awareness.

What I would like to do is take Ramana to work and do the I thought at recess and during lunch. Not much time for recess especially when I am in the classroom with a student who must stay in for not doing homework or misbehaving. I only have a 15 minute recess and the last half I have yard duty. I could do the I thought at recess when I’m standing out on the yard. It would be a good practice at being aware of the I thought while watching children or the occasional interaction with a student or having a quick conversation with another teacher. At lunchtime, I usually go on the internet while I eat my lunch. Instead I could be eating mindfully and watching the I thought. I’ve thought about doing it in the past, but when push comes to shove I would rather escape into mindlessness thinking I need to relax. But meditation is a great stress reducer and if I go into with that positive intention, I won’t feel as though I’m being deprived.

Unfortunately I tend to forget to do things like not eat stuff that is bad for me and not drink coffee. I’m doing it before it hits me that I am doing it. I’m going to write a reminder note on a card and set it in my water glass that I drink from at recess. Then the note will go in my pocket and once inside after recess I will transfer the note to my lunch. That way I will at least have a fighting chance to follow through. We shall see what we shall see.