A Letter to My Now 12-Year-Old S

A Letter to My Now 12-Year-Old S

Zekester,

You turn 12 today. It's hard to believe. Adults tell you that time goes by so fast. It's true, and the older you get, the faster it goes.

I’m not entirely sure how I feel today. It's an emotional Neapolitan scoop of joy, confusion, and sadness.

I love you so much. I love you as only a father could love his first-born son. I became a dad because of you. I will always be grateful…

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I Got My First Cup of Coffee from Whataburger

I Got My First Cup of Coffee from Whataburger

Well that's not exactly true. I got my first cup of drive-thru coffee at Whataburger. My first real cup came at an IHOP one night after the late-late movie.

The four of us piled into the green Ford Contour after the movie got out. I can still feel those gray cloth seats. Man, how I loved the smell of that car. It was fresh, clean, and had the tiniest bit of perfume.

My pal, Kevin, and I rode in the back. Our friends, Nell and Pam, up front. If ever there was one thing I was good at when I was sixteen, it was making people laugh. And nothing made me feel better than making Nell laugh. It was my drug.

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Why Rick Astley Should Be on Everyone’s SMART Board

Why Rick Astley Should Be on Everyone’s SMART Board

You know why Rick Astley’s a swell guy? I’ll give you three reasons:

  1. He’s never gonna let you down
  2. He’s never gonna make you cry
  3. He’s never gonna tell a lie and hurt you

Who wouldn’t want to be around that guy?

I previously shared my thoughts about 5 Dangerous Things Breaking Bad Taught Me About Teaching. One thing was the need to find a partner. This is true, not only teaching, but for life in general. We aren’t meant to walk this journey alone.

I’ve had the opportunity to work with some pretty amazing teachers during my nine year stint in the classroom. Here's one of the best—

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A Cheap, Plasticky Walmart Affair

A Cheap, Plasticky Walmart Affair

(I’m trying to be more grateful for my life. To that end, I’ll be posting some stories about what I’m most thankful for. This one is about the first time I called my wife.)

I slammed the phone down. Hard. Not an angry kind of slam, but a scared I don’t want this thing in my hands kind of slam.

I can still feel the smoothness of that dark green phone—one of those cheap, plasticky Walmart affairs. The coiled cord was the length of one of those orange industrial extension cables that hang on hooks in garages. It was permanently knotted in spots. The buttons lit up a putrid yellow when you pressed them. The whole thing felt like it would crumble if you squeezed it too hard.

Cruddy for sure, but always remembered. It was on this phone that I finally got the courage to call Nell for the first time.

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