My Hero

Heroes are hard to come by.  And when you find one, invariably they let us down.  The fault lies in Human Nature.  We are irrational and emotional.  We keep secrets far from our public personas, and the information age increasingly brings them to light.  Heroes fall to earth and become as human as the rest of us.

Until now.  I've found my hero, and it's this man here:

Meet John Green.  I met him through his online Youtube series Crash Course World History, a channel of quick, funny and totally fresh takes on the story of man.  I loved it, devouring the episodes like a new series on Netflix.  This man has a unique ability to take very complex things and make them understandable.  Though my class couldn't handle too much of the fast paced videos, they enriched my understanding of world history, and made me a better teacher.

As I'm coming to learn, that's just a drop in the bucket of what this guy does.  There's a great primer here, that I won't retype.  He doesn't just make history fun, he's on a bigger mission to fight "world suck."  He does this largely by making videos that take confusing, contentious and often politicized issues and explaining them in a remarkably clear, and remarkably fact based way.  And that gives you hope, once you can grasp the issues and problems in your mind, you know you can find a solution.  This video on why health care in America costs so much opened my eyes, pissed me off, and cheered me up all at the same time.

John Green is who I want to be.  He is why I became a teacher.  Funny and engaging, he inspires me.  To learn.  To understand the world.  And to make the world a better place.  That's essentially what I've been hoping to impart to my students these last seven years.  Who knows if I've made an impact, but I've tried and will keep trying.  And now it's a little bit easier since I've got someone showing me the way.

Happy Old People, Drunk-y and Dance-y

I went to the St. Josefs Winery grape stomp celebration today.  Located in Canby, Oregon about 30 minutes southeast of Portland, St Josefs is twice as fun, twice as cheap, and half as pretentious as the more popular Newberg-Dundee wine tasting area.  
 
The very aged and very friendly owner immigrated here from Hungary, and the whole place looks like an old central European villa. It surprised me to see the grape stomp was another iteration of the ever-popular Oktoberfest celebration.  Same songs.  Same sausages.  Same chicken dance.  German flags at shirts dotted the crowd, a little ironic since the owner was probably alive when Germany invaded Hungary during World War II, before losing it to the Soviet Union.  Hungary then essentially lived out an Orwellian Big Brother nightmare for 45 years under communist rule before winning independence in 1989.

Alcohol makes us all brothers, I suppose.  I've been to many an Oktoberfest, but never have I seen so many happy old people.  The crowd was aged.  Young and middle aged pockets cropped up here and there, but at nearly every table sat lots and lots of old people, in their old people sweaters and old people pants that are always tugged up too high.  And they were rocking.  Singing.  Dancing.  Swigging beer, swigging wine and chowing on bratwurst.

One old timer and his wife hopped and bopped in the conga line, the returned to their seats next to us.  The old man looked at me and my girlfriend, and in a thick, central European accent said "You are weaklings!  You should dance!  I am 82!"

I don't know if they all hailed from Hungary or from the same nursing home, but the event felt like one big family reunion.  Everyone beemed with joy.  The crowd cheered every song.  And everyone just danced.  I find it so heartening to see old people living it up.  30 is almost here for this blogger, and while middle age looms, I learned today I can have at least 52 more good fun years ahead of me.

For a $10 admission (that included a glass and three tastes), I got more fun, more wine, and more life lessons than I could ever have hoped.

Serendipity, Coincidence or Just One Of Those Things

After writing my latest blog post two days ago I headed to bed exhausted and frustrated.  Before nodding off I picked up The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, which had been collecting dust on my night stand.  Long ago I perused the first pages about a shepherd boy in Andalusia, before setting it down in favor of The Game of Thrones.

I don't know what inspired me to read a few pages that night, but I did.  And after a evening spent venting and pondering about my direction in life, I read a few pages to find the shepherd meets a very Jesus-like fellow.  What came next gave me goose bumps. 

This Jesus-like guy spoke to the young shepherd about how our life's dreams fade with age.  When we are young, we dream big, but then somewhere along the way, the realities of life weigh in, and we are forced to settle for less.  He pointed out a baker who wanted to travel the world, but feared to leave behind his comfortable lifestyle his job provided.

It was like the book spoke to me!  I can't say that I've ever had something so prescient happen.  The cynic in me says it's just coincidence, but it still was a special moment.  

I once had big, clear dreams.  Dreams I sometimes can't remember.  But seven years ago I started a business with a close friend that was supposed to change the world.  I believed in the power of each and every one of us to affect change.  I wanted to see the world.  Start a business.  Or two.  Make a difference.

I chose another path and became a teacher, which isn't something that I regret.  Indeed, I saw teaching as an avenue to do as much, or more good, than my social enterprise.  Kids are awesome, kids are our future, and our society will only be as good as they are.  If I could do my part to make them well-educated, civicially-aware citizens who were conscious of their effect on the world and empowered to change the world for the better, well, that would be the greatest service of all.

Yet somewhere along the way my aim drifted.  Some mix of professional responsibilities, frustration with co-workers, student apathy, emails from parents, ever changing education standards, Family Guy reruns after work, or who knows what, blunted my purpose.  Things became frustrating.  Things became dull.  Things became routine.  Ideals worn down by the harsh grindstone that is reality.

And all that made me think.

More than pursuing dreams, a secret to a happy life is enjoying the little blessings that happen each day.  A great class discussion.  A conversation with a friend.  A student inviting you to eat lunch with them.  Playing with my dog.   Its amazing how the petty details and frustrations of each day can smear themselves like ash, blotting out all the good we encounter, or preventing us from experiencing the at all.

The last two days I've let go of those gripes the best I am able.  And my last two days have been better than the previous 20 combined.  I'm not fighting the battles that don't matter and focusing on the things that do. Teaching has been more fun than it has in years.  And maybe if I keep this up I can hope to accomplish what I originally wanted to: making a difference. 

I Was Afraid of This

School has started and my blog has stopped.

It's hard to make time to write, so it seems. Sometimes I don't know what to say.

This is my seventh year in the same place.  And I think I have that seven year itch.  I do like my job.  I love teaching what I teach, and I really like kids.  But most days at work feel stressful.  Maybe I need to slow down and take some time to enjoy what I do a little more.

Sometimes I wonder about all of it.  Work.  Come home.  Do a little this, a little that.  Work again.  On the weekends watch football and hang out with friends.  It's not bad.  It's good actually.  It just all feels a little done before.  Year 7 of Groundhogs Day.

I'm not sure, but it seems that before my everything in my life was a little sharper.  My life had a little more purpose, my views had a little more clarity.  I knew where I was going.  Now I'm not sure exactly.  Life has ups and downs, but this seems to be a flat.  Nothing to do but keep going, looking for a signpost to somewhere.

Some Days

Let me preface this post by saying that I am truly, incredibly blessed.

But...

ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHH

Been one of those days.

1.)  About two weeks ago I bought a sweet Tag Heuer watch off a community Facebook group.  Now this thing retails at $1,600, but me being the savvy dealer that I am , I got it for $250.  The band was broken, and it wasn't new, but still a great bargain.

So I drop $60 to fix the band, and go to flip it on Ebay.  It sells for $550!  And right as I'm about to sell it, I find out it's fake, it's a replica.

Lesson 1: caveat emptor "buyer beware."  Of course, this woman who I became Facebook friends with to complete the transaction won't refund my money.  She would come out ahead since I fixed her watch.  But no, she says, she'll do it when she gets a job.

2.)  I suck at packing dishes.  Two dish sets I shipped last week arrived with pieces broken.  So I had to endure snarky emails and refund most of the money.  $65 in refunds today alone.

Lesson 2:  Don't sell dishes on Ebay if you suck at packing.

3.)  My dog stays home while I work.  He used to be on my deck, where he would chew the railing, and poop all over.  It was not pleasant.

Being the loving owner I am, I installed an underground fence so he could roam free.  Winston took that as license to dismantle the carefully constructed deer cages I had built around my raised beds.  This year's raised beds featured heirloom tomatoes I had grown from seed, and they were thriving.  Tons of tomatoes, large, and almost ripe.

I replaced the fence.  He tore it down the next time I left.  He came and greeted me with contrition, hunched shoulders and a thumping tail.  I fixed it, my carefully constructed cages now a jumbled mess of bamboo and mesh.  Again he tore it down.  I left it down.  That night, deer feasted.

I fix it.  He destroys it.  I fix it.  He destroys it.  Finally I got smart today and bought him two giant bones.  When I left and came back he was gnawing those peacefully.

Lesson 3:  you'll have to choose dogs or tomatoes at some point in your life.

Breaking Bad: Why Netflix is $700 Better than Cable

One thing I accomplished this summer: watching all of Breaking Bad from Season 1 until now.  And be warned, Breaking Bad is as good as everyone says.  Possibly better.  It may be the best TV show I've ever watched.  The characters have so many facets, I've found myself rooting for or against everyone multiple times.

I'm a late comer to Breaking Bad, like I am to most trendy TV shows.  It usually takes critical mass of 3 or 4 friends saying "You HAVE to see this" to get me tune din.  And once I watch, turns out they were right.  I get hooked.

I didn't start watching the Office until season 3, after years of my friends camping me to Jim Halpert.  Then it became my obession.  I had an Office ring tone.  I dressed like Dwight for Halloween.  I could quote most episodes.  When the finale ran I felt that ache inside, the one you get when someone dear to you leaves, and you know you may never see them again.

The Walking Dead won my heart last year.  Though it's a zombie show, it's not really about zombies.  It's about people and the choices they have to make when the world around them goes bad.  A world where good intentions are often fatal and the cruel thrive really makes you question what kind of person you would be in the zombie apocalypse, and what kind of person you are now.   This spinoff game for my iPad puts you in a survivors shoes, and I've never played anything that has affected me so much emotionally.

As great as those shows are, TV can be an expensive hobby in terms of two of life's most precious commodities: time and money.  I cancelled TV awhile back because I found myself coming home from work and plopping down for an hour of Family Guy.  Then something else (like Office reruns) would grab my attention. Or my roommates would watch something and I'd get sucked in.

The price for all of this time wasting?  $72 a month from Direct TV.  There are so many other things I'd rather do with my life than watch a screen for hours each day.

When it comes down to it, I want a TV for three things:

1.)  To watch my beloved Oregon Ducks play.
2.)  To watch any of my "shows."  The Walking Dead or Breaking Bad at the moment.
3.)  To watch the occasional movie.

That's why Netflix fills my entertainment needs way better than cable, and at a fraction of the cost.

I pay $8.99 a month for streaming service.   Netflix caught me up on season's 1-5 of Breaking Bad this summer.  The current season isn't on Netflix, but I can buy an episode for $2.99, or the whole season for about $20 on iTunes.  If I buy the new season of Breaking Bad and the Walking Dead, then I'm out $40, give or take.  Those two seasons still cost significantly less than one month of Direct TV.

My total savings over a year?  Over $700.  That's not chump change.

As for my Ducks, going to a friends or down to the bar to catch the game is a simple option.  Even better, the new trend around here is to show Duck games at local pub theaters.  At Northern Lights they show most Duck games, admission is free, and they make their money off of food and drink. The atmosphere is the next best thing to being at Autzen Stadium.  People are yelling and screaming, and your view on the movie screen certainly beats your view from most seats in Eugene.  In fact, another local pub theater has started showing new episodes of Breaking Bad every Sunday too.

Bottom line, Netflix meets my entertainment needs with a more efficient use of my time and money.  It's a win win.  It's probably worth looking at in your own budget.  What shows do you really value, and what could you do without?  You could save some real money.

Part Time Summer Job Results: Auction and Ebay

Lazy summer day here.  Got up early and took Winston to Butte Lake and then to Butte Creek Falls.  The water drags in mid-August. Butte Lake appeared more a murky marsh than Cascade Lake.  The Falls tinkle along, shadows of their spring selves.  It's hot.

I did a little accounting today, seeing how much I actually made attending the Woodburn Auction and selling the stuff I bought on Ebay and elsewhere.

Totallng up my Paypal transfers this summer, I transferred in almost exactly $1,550.  This is after the 15% cut that Ebay and Paypal combine to take.

Add a few random sales on Craigslist, Amazon, and from a small and largely unsuccessful yard sale, and that number is more like $1,650.

I probably spent about $700 purchase the items, leaving me with a profit of $850.

Really, it wasn't a bad part time summer job.  The auction is a ton of fun, and I scored a few treasures.  The biggest find easily was a $10 box of Rage: The Collectible Card Game trading cards.  For those of you unfamiliar with Rage, you probably were the unpopular kid in school and for that I'm sorry. It is much like Magic the Gathering or the Pokemon card games.  You build a deck, and play opponents.  Only this game deals with Werewolves that get really angry apparently.  Hence the name, Rage.  That $10 box ended up netting nearly $700, including 1 card that sold for upwards of $100.

The downside?  I collected a lot of stuff I don't need.  I've made three trips to Goodwill last week trying to reclaim my garage.  Two of the weeks I bought a ton of stuff thinking I could turn it all for a profit, when that wasn't the case.  That involved hours of sorting, listing, and packaging for ship.  My girlfriend deserves a huge award for helping me.  Collectible plates?  Turns out they aren't collectible.  Purses?  Only if you want to work full time selling purses and making about $2 a purse.

I've become a lot more selective in what I buy, only getting items I'm sure I can flip for more than $25 gain.  I bought nothing last week, and only spent $5 the week before.   My most consistent money maker?  China sets.

All in all it took up a few hours of my life each Tuesday, but they were fun, social hours.  I brought friends.  We got lunch afterwards.  I'd like to think it was time well spent.  Probably a difficult way to make a living, but not a bad way to make some money on the side.