Daily Blues & Views

He first appeared sometime in the mid-70s.  We thought he might be a vet with PTSD.  In retrospect, he was one of the first homeless people I recall.  Before that we had the term "shopping bag ladies" and before people used the term bum freely. In my childhood, everyone seemed to have a home.  Maybe not a house, but definitely a home.  Somewhere to go at the end of the day.  A safe place; a campsite. We didn't know what to make of him because he was silent.  We wondered.  Was he broke? Hungry? Was he well? When I picture him I see him in shades of brown and black.  He was a white guy, but living on the street can make you filthy in a hurry.  His clothing was tattered; his shoes barely had soles.  He walked...a lot. People gave him a nickname: "the victim." "I saw the victim today, " they'd say.  He was down on Telegraph and Ashby, making his way back to College Avenue.  He walked long stretches but by late aftern...

Irwin Shaw said in his famous short story, "Tip of a Dead Jockey," "...In this age there comes a time when everyone finds that he is forced to gamble--and not for money, and not only at the seller's window. And when that time comes and you are not in the habit, and it does not amuse you, you are most likely to lose." The President is a gambler. He's been forcing himself to sit at the table and go to the window more and more lately. There is no book of strategies, no Daily Racing Form for his pursuits. None is needed because this is an old tale.  The better adage might be, "A man should never gamble, more than he can stand to lose.  The President is obsessed with loyalty.  Trouble is that the concept has flipped on him.  The greater loyalty has become elevated to the Constitution and a sense of ethics.  The moral compass has turned.  Our Constitution works when tested.  Ethical people rather than the craven autocratic demigods catch more bees because ...

He is a runawy truck ramp     his face that dusty, rough, unnatural shade like the unpaved, sandy surface                    of the side road that leads up a sudden hill to nowhere. He is a RUNAWAY TRUCK RAMP,             that side option that hopefully never gets used.      It's unfinished, sudden, unlikely to stop the motion of an uncontrollable force. This ramp paints an eerie feeling,   It's impossible not to glance over when passing, It conjures images of disaster. He is a runaway truck ramp,      possessed by the possibility of function But nobody wants to travel that road.

Everybody needs an alternate universe.  They come in handy, especially these days when the one we all inhabit becomes insufferable.  Right now, aside from the current political scene which features more lying and corruption charges than a B Western, we've got a major dose of disunity to deal with.  People can hardly talk to one another.  Even the talking heads of cable news are interrupting one another at an increased pace.  If I were to return to the classroom this fall, I'd revise my curriculum to include the methodology and strategies for having a discussion about politics.  First, you have to hear the person.  We all could use some revising on that topic. Having an escape is both useful and necessary.  My alternate universe was once the world of horse racing.  That is to say, I used to inhabit that world.  I only do so virtually now.  But being there offered the opportunity to see, smell, hear and talk about equine athlete...

With August comes the dreaded phrase, "back to school."  Professional educators are always eager to return to the classroom and begin another year.  In fact, one of the most enjoyable things about teaching is the opportunity to begin again.  The job has a built-in reset. We usually hear the phrase when it is attached to commercials about school clothing or school supplies.  Both of those rituals are usually a welcome experience.  Who doesn't like putting together a new notebook and re-stocking one's stash of paper clips, staples, binder paper, and perhaps a couple of new items that will soon become either poor choices or unnecessary. In my first decade in the classroom, I looked forward to buying a few new shirts and a couple pairs of pants destined to occupy that spot in the closet for "school clothes." Along with the familiar ads reminding us that the 2018-19 school year is almost upon us has come something new.  Not first time new, but in the last few...