Canadian Circle of Life

Matt returned from his annual fishing trip to Canada last week. As soon as he came home, he showed me this video. For the two people we know who haven't seen it, here you go:



Both fish survived the ordeal. Sadly, the walleye was too small to eat, and the pike was too big to keep, so both were thrown back. And the circle of life continues.

A Father's Influence

In honor of Father's Day, I'm sharing just one more story about Coach John Wooden. What stood out to me in this story was the emphasis on where Coach learned those life lessons for which he became famous--his father. You can listen to the story here.

The other thing I love about this story is the emphasis on Coach Wooden as a teacher. We learn our most important life lessons at home from our very first teachers, and I couldn't have hoped for a better set of instructors.

So often, I hear myself saying the maxims for which my own father has become famous. "Is that a Fredism?" Matt asks when I say things like, "Your what hurts?" or "I can't hear a nod." When we're watching a high-scoring baseball game, I say, "This is a real pitchers duel." When we're watching a team from New York play a team from Los Angeles, I cheer for "a power outage." Who can pull for a winner in that match-up? I could go on and on and on...and on.

Keep teaching, Dad, and we'll keep listening, because, as more than one great man has said, "when you're through learning, you're through."

Edited with one more classic Fredism that my dear sister reminded me of: "Don't get into a pissing match with a skunk." Classic Dad.

While the picky eater is away...

Matt's been out of town for the last week or so. While I miss him terribly, I do enjoy the opportunity to make meals that he would never eat. Take a recent dinner, for example: butternut squash and mushroom casserole. Here's what I imagine Matt would say if he was asked to eat this dish:

"Squash? I don't eat gourds."

"You know mushrooms are a fungus, right?"

"You could just use cardboard if you run out of those whole wheat noodles."

Pearls of Teenage Wisdom

Overheard from an African American student in the hallway today:

"Brown vs. Board, yo. We be integrated."

Bad dog, III

I have some people coming over for dinner tonight. Ever the planner, I prepared something last night that I put in the Crockpot this morning. When I walked in the house this afternoon, I said out loud, "Hm. I wonder why I don't smell anything."

Then I looked down and saw this guilty face:

The picture is fuzzy not because my hand was shaking, but because Barley was. I walked to the kitchen and saw why:

Either he was shaking because he knew he was in serious trouble, or he was having a very understandable reaction to licking clean a bowl that contained, among several other things, a pound of raw chicken.

A cultured smarty pants

I'm not proud of this, but back in college, I wasn't sure if Matt was the one for me. He wasn't doing as well in school as he could have (a fact that he is the first to admit), and I always imagined marrying a cultured smarty pants. I shared these feelings with Matt, and he said, "But that's you. And you would drive you crazy." Truer words were never spoken.

Now, nearly a decade later, Matt is the first person in our little family to earn a Master's degree. I'm so proud of him that I'm even enjoying the fact that he keeps rubbing it in my face. In fact, reminding me of his academic success has become part of Matt's daily routine. "Well, I would do the dishes, but I'm the one with the Master's degree, so..." And at this rate, I'll never win another argument: "I mean, who should we listen to? The person with the Master's degree or the one with just a little Bachelor's?" I think the worst is the faux pity: "Don't worry, Rachie. You'll get your Master's, too...someday."

What a cultured smarty pants.

OMG, it's Cyrano de Bergerac!

As their final major assignment this year, my students were tasked with creating something that looked as much as possible like a Facebook page for one of the main characters in the classic play, Cyrano de Bergerac. The project was inspired by Sarah Schmelling's amazing book, Ophelia Joined the Group Maidens Who Don't Float.

While I told students to create something that resembled a Facebook page, these technology-loving members of the Millennial Generation asked if they could create a new Facebook account instead. I agreed. And I'm so glad I did.

Letting them create the project in this familiar platform gave them such amazing freedom to convey the emotions and relationships so inherent to the understanding (and, more importantly, the appreciation) of this play.

I have to share an example of the type of work my students created. I'm sharing this in part because the work is so terribly entertaining, but I'm mostly sharing it because these students won't be my students after next week. What better way to pay tribute to them than by showing off their work?

Take some time to poke through all three of these profiles (as well as the groups characters have joined and other creations; you'll see some actual Facebook users joining their groups): First, Cyrano de Bergerac, the brilliant swordsman who is quick-witted, but embarrassed about the size of his nose. Second, beautiful Roxane, the woman whom Cyrano loves, but who loves the handsome Christian instead. Cyrano helps Christian woo Roxane, only to find out too late that she came to love Cyrano's soul, not Christian's looks. It's a classic love triangle, which is why it lends itself so well to Facebook...and teenagers.

"The Couple"

I came across this poem the other day. It seemed a bit depressing at first, but I think its essence is what each of us hopes to find in our old age--someone to lie next to us, bearing our burden while we do the same.

"The Couple"
by Louis Jenkins

They no longer sleep quite as well as they did
when they were younger. He lies awake thinking
of things that happened years ago, turning
uncomfortably from time to time, pulling on the
blankets. She worries about money. First one
and then the other is awake during the night,
in shifts as if keeping watch, though they can't
see very much in the dark and it's quiet. They
are sentries at some outpost, an abandoned fort
somewhere in the middle of the Great Plains
where only the wind is a regular visitor. Each
stands guard in the wilderness of an imagined
life in which the other sleeps untroubled.

They Called Him Coach

In the middle of July in 1987, my family piled into our Toyota minivan and drove from Minnesota to California. The highlights of the trip were supposed to be Disneyland and visiting family, and for most of us, they were. For my dad, however, the highlight was having his picture taken at center court at UCLA.

John Wooden, the inveterate coach of the Bruins who passed away yesterday, won ten national championships in twelve years. And, more importantly to me, he was my dad's hero. My dad owns an autographed copy of Coach Wooden's book They Call Me Coach (thanks to my mom), and he even met Coach Wooden in an elevator once (a story I've heard at least 200 times).

John Wooden was obviously an amazing coach, but he was an even more amazing person. He taught his players as much about life as he did about athletics, famously saying, "What you are as a person is far more important that what you are as a basketball player." If modern-day coaches (not to mention any other type of leader) could follow just one of Coach Wooden's famous maxims, imagine the world we'd live in:

"Make each day your masterpiece."

"Don't measure yourself by what you have accomplished, but by what you should have accomplished with your ability."

"If you're not making mistakes, then you're not doing anything. I'm positive that a doer makes mistakes."

"Success comes from knowing that you did your best to become the best that you are capable of becoming."

"Success is never final; failure is never fatal. It's courage that counts."

"The worst thing about new books is that they keep us from reading the old ones."

"Things turn out best for the people who make the best of the way things turn out."

"Winning takes talent, to repeat takes character."

"You can't live a perfect day without doing something for someone who will never be able to repay you."

And my personal favorite:

"It's what you learn after you know it all that counts."