I am Good

My friends came home yesterday.

Being a teacher, I am afforded an amazing opportunity to vacation. Just like a kid, I look forward to Thanksgiving and Christmas and Spring Break with an eager anticipation that can only be described as liberation. Last year I went to Big Bend National Park for spring break. The year before that I went to Great Smokies National Park. This year, I stayed home.

My friends went down to Port Aransas for 5 days. They rented a house on the beach, and had crazy adventures like going on a casino cruise boat during a tornado warning, not bringing any cash, having credit machines go down in the storm, and being trapped, sea-sick, with nothing to do except watch other people drink and gamble (because they couldn't get any money). I stayed home.

My friends asked me to come but I declined. I was feeling very single. Three couples were going on the trip, and, well, I just didn't want to deal with it. Looking at them, thinking about being in their company seemed to highlight things that were not (I am not in a relationship. I do not know what job I will have. I do not know what I want.) instead of the things that were (My friends love me. They enjoy my company. I love my friends). So I stayed home.

During the time they were gone, I bummed around. I rode my bike. I climbed at TRG. I watched movies. I read books. I didn't cook. I thought about my future.

Thinking about the future is dangerous for me. I start thinking, and the thinking just spirals outward, ever outward. Figuring out the future is hard because it hasn't happened yet. And I don't want to mess it up. Those two governing criteria make success pretty difficult. Especially because I am not that great about Today, and shoot, I'm doing that right now.

Take teaching. I guess I am an okay teacher. I am not great. I am not bad.
Take engineering. I am an okay engineer. I am not great. I am not bad.
In fact, there is a list that could extend across multiple pieces of paper listing the things I am okay at.

And this fact also adds to the spiral of future thinking. I don't know what I want to do. I look around at people around me, like my friends, and I see qualities that I want to emulate. I see there not-singleness. I see there plans. I see their passion. I see their success. And those things stand in stark contrast against the corresponding abilities in me; the only difference being that I find my qualities to be lacking.

I've been reading a chapter called "Being and Doing", in Thomas Merton's No Man Is an Island.

Why do we have to spend our lives striving to be something that we would never want to be, if we only knew what we wanted? Why do we waste our time doing things which, if we only stopped to think about them, are just the opposite of what we were made for?

We cannot be ourselves unless we know ourselves....We cannot begin to know ourselves until we can the real reasons why we do the things we do , and we cannot be ourselves until our actions correspond to our intentions, and our intentions are appropriate to our own situation. But that is enough. It is not necessary that we succeed in everything. Am an can be perfect and still reap n o fruit from his work, and it may happen that a man who is able to accomplish very little is much more of a person than another who seems to accomplish very much."
- Pg 126

I think this is very true. When Jesus called his disciples, they were not Torah rockstars. They were not rich, successful people. They were fishermen. They were the people who were not good enough to make the cut to be disciples of Rabbis in the regular Jewish culture. And they messed up. They messed up a lot.

Right after Jesus was crucified, he appears to the disciples and he has a conversation with Peter. Peter was one of Jesus' three closest friends, but Peter lied about this friendship 3 times while Jesus was imprisoned. He had messed up. But the conversation is not about the betrayal. Instead, Jesus comes to Peter and asks if him if he still wants to follow, if he still wants to take part in Jesus' work. Peter doesn't respond with joy. He doesn't even respond with guilt. He responds with, "Well what about HIM? What about John? What are you going to do with John?"

I think that I too often act like Peter. I too often "strive to be something I would never want to be" because I see it in other people and it seems to be working so well. But I am not made that way. Currently, I am an okay teacher. And that's okay. It is not okay if I stay here, if I do not try and improve, but for today, it is okay.

There are other things I can do. I can cook a meal for my friends. I can bless them by providing that for them. I can combine tastes into something amazing that makes you pause as it shouts on your tongue.

I am good at that. And that's okay. For today.

GourMAN, Mark III

News on the GourMAN front.

The movement is building. I have independent confirmations from Michigan, Indiana and Texas that the word is getting play.

In an effort to build the cause for widespread use of "gourman", I created an Urban dictionary entry for it. Ha! Go check it out and click the thumbs up to give it more credibility. Grassroots is the way to go. (I accidentally created two copies because I am an idiot. And I can't delete one yet. I'm working on that.)

Here is an account from my buddy in Holland, MI:
"i used the word gourman last night. :) people received it well!"

Here is a picture of the GourMAN meal that we made last weekend.

We had grilled pork chops, seasoned vegetables (mushrooms, yellow squash, zucchini, and red onions), and sweet potato wedge fries. Serious shout out to Ms. T for the sweet potato fries idea. I had them at her house, and have since incorporated them into my arsenal. They are a solid performer.

GourMAN Additions

I am slowly but surely developing a GourMAN MANifesto. We already have categories for presentation and serving size (hence forth called Amplitude, because that is a sweet word), but some new categories that are edging in are Cost to Awesomeness ratio and Food Group Diversity.

I received a heart-warming email from my buddy K on this topic, which is the epitome of GourMAN:

Hey Man, I wanted to let you know that I made a GourMAN meal Friday night in your honor. First, I made a pasta dish with tortellini in a goat cheese cream sauce with peas and cherry tomatoes. Secondly, this is where the GourMAN part comes in, I made pheasant. This isn't store bought pheasant. My good friend Rick shot it, that's right shot it with a gun and brought it to my house. During the preparation process we found a few leftover pellets lodged in the meat and a couple more during mastication. Anyway, I wanted to let you know that your new cooking style has inspired me. I would like to author a chapter in your upcoming book "GourMAN: A Man's Guide to Gourmet". Chapter 9: GourMAN goes Organic!

K has it right. Anything that has been shot, trapped, caught, grown, harvested etc by your own hands immediately gains huge GourMAN points.

We also had a GourMAN meal this evening, but sadly, we destroyed it before any pictures could be taken. In fact, I think I ate so fast that I didn't even breathe. We had two pounds of Atlantic Salmon, a pot full of Royal Blend organic rice, two pounds of steamed broccoli and a large bowl of salad. Bam. Top that Emiril.

Is that Gray Poupon? No, it's GourMAN.

I've created some extraordinary meals of late.

Normally, I shy away from anything (or anybody) that would label my cooking as gourmet. I feel like the word gourmet, and really, a person who might be called a gourmet (yea you can use it like that, I checked) usually connotes a general priggishness, and a large case of stick-up-the-butt-itis in particular.

I don't really know what turned me off to that whole side of the culinary spectrum. I would say the emphasis on presentation, but I know from my teaching experience that presentation is crucial to any sort of digestion. I mean, take Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup, put it in a wood bowl with a wood spoon and you could charge $14 for it at some inn in New England. Shoot, I'd pay the $14 bucks, and not even feel bad about it, because of the presentation.

Okay that was a lie. I'd feel bad about it. But I would pay $8. And that's my point. Presentation gets you to all the way to that $8.

I think part of the problem is the small portions. Maybe I am uncultured (not much maybe about that one), but if I leave the meal and want to go make a sandwich because I'm hungry, I get upset.

So I am going to coin a new term, right here in this post. The term is "GourMan". Basically, I took the word Gourmet, cut off the end, and added the word Man. Oh. You got that part?

Well, then the meaning must be somewhat obvious. You take all the good stuff about Gourmet food; the presentation, the complex yet subtle flavors, the variety, the love. Then you take away the weak-at-the-knees, I-can't-finish-this-bowl-of-chili-because-it's-too-hot-ness and add "Give me another bowl of chili, I'm going to go cut down a tree because I can, and then use it to build a baseball bat to hit a home run with (even though I don't like baseball)".

That's Gourman.

My meals are all, by definition, Gourman. Feel free to spread that term around.

Tonight, we ate Bison Burgers, macaroni and cheeses and steamed green beans. Ms. A brought over no-bake cookies. That is a Gourman meal.

Below is a picture of a Gourman meal the men of Essex shared a couple weeks back. Here we have Sirloin Steak, Boiled Red Skin Potatoes and Baked Vegetables (squash, onions, mushrooms).

On Food Poisoning

Really, I feel guilty for not posting on here. 2 posts in October. That is just weak sauce. And I just read this sweet post by my buddy whose getting his MBA. It was witty and well written and had psychic weight (in the words of my creative writing professor). I was put to shame. This post enters to salve my wounds.


There are a few simple rules to live by if you want to avoid food poisoning. First, avoid all-you-can eat-oriental-buffets. This rule actually extends to sketchy restaurants in general, but General Tso and his chicken have been responsible for such numerous bouts of FP that I think it actually has become a verb, as in "I got General Tso'd this weekend." Thus, the rule lends itself more in the oriental direction.

Once you are avoiding the sketchtastic restaurants, the next line of defense involves your drinking water. Everyone knows not to drink the water in most South American countries, Mexico etc etc. But few give much pause to the water around them here in the US. There is nothing quite so sweet as an iced glass of fertilizer water pumped out of your neighborhood well. Fertilizer is great; it makes fruits and vegetables grow quickly and to a great size, and it also will leave you heaving your lungs out for three days. Just ask my brother.

With the water under control, now comes the the third, and truly revolutionary rule for avoiding FP. Throw away your old-ass-food. Yep. That's it. An example will probably help:
"Oh look, here's some yogurt. I want some yogurt. Hmmm. It says Expired 6 days ago (yea, yogurt containers say that. shut up)"
What should our test dummy do? That's right! Throw it away!

Now, the difficulty lies in the foods that don't have expiration dates. What about leftovers? What about other crazy things? I suggest playing it safe.

Let's look at another example.
"Hmm. I want some eggs with my bagel. How long have these been in here? I don't know. At least a month. Oh well, I don't think eggs go bad. I'll eat them."

So what did this person do wrong? Yep. They made the poor assumption that "I don't think eggs go bad." That's just plain stupid. The result of that kind of stupidity? Let me tell you. You end up feeling kinda funny around 12:30, but think "Maybe I'm just hungry" and eat a peanut butter sandwich. You feel a little better. You still feel bad, but you go for a bike ride anyway. For 2 hours. When you get back, you feel horrible and lay on the floor. But then you remember you have a date that you *can not* miss, so you shower and feel a little better. Maybe you're just hungry you think hopefully. You will go to Central Market on your date, and feel light headed the entire time. You will be kind of spacey but still witty and charming (again, hopefully). You will eat your yogurt covered pretzels and fruit with your date and feel a little bit better. You will get the false sense of security that "It was just hunger". Then, after an hour, you will feel the looming VOM. You will say "I think I have to go." You will kind of sketch out of your date, still managing to walk her home, but having no idea what you said, because you are so focused on not VOMING all over the place. Then you will get home. You will have a disastrous but oh so pivotal decision to make; which end first?

You will not be able to keep down anything. Even water will make you yak. Your ribs and back will be sore. You will sweat. You will curse. You will hate your life. Then you will feel better. You will sleep. You will yak some more. And so will go the next 12 hours. At this point, you will chance some water because you fear dehydration. You will keep it down and sleep for 3 straight hours. You will wake up sore. You will move to the couch. You will eat a Popsicle. And another.

And you will never eat old eggs again. The End.

Activity Update

What follows is a non-chronological list of activities performed by me or people who look remarkably similar to me in dim lighting.

• Making use of the driving range to discover that swinging a wood as hard as you can usually yields approximately 19 feet of forward progress while hitting irons in repeatable rhythmic motions churns balls into the 220s on the fly.
• Sprinting full speed into the shallows at Muskegon to bid (that means 'to dive head first') for the discs thrown by Hunt or Miller. Realizing that jumping from the shore drastically increases your likelihood of hitting bottom.
• Crawling on the floor and under coffee tables.
• Discovering that spider webs usually congregate in the northeast corner of coffee tables. By usually, I mean on this one, unconfirmed occasion.
• Watched "Prairie Home Companion". Discovered that woman was created first, she had 3 boobs, decided that was excessive and cut the middle one off, asked "What should be done with this useless boob?" and decided to make man. Ha!
• Went climbing. Loved that guy who had no volume control AS HE SHOUTED THAT WE WERE DOING A GREAT JOB!
• Went running. Running in Michigan in the summer is great. There is a breeze and there are trees and it is beautiful. I remember running in Houston. It was loud and humid and miserable.
• Scrabble. I played. I lost. I made up words.
• Cribbage. I played. I won. I did not make up any words.
• Cooking! Pasta salad, pizza, enchiladas, brownies (out of a box), Kool-aid (does that even count?), egg sandwiches, brats and dogs on the grill. Mmm summer foods.
• Ice cream eating has almost become a daily event. I have hit East Grand Rapids, Grand Haven, Muskegon, Forest Hill Foods, Meijer...
• I read "Reviving Ophelia: Saving the Selves of Adolescent Girls". Very...interesting. Yep. Interesting. Don't judge.
• Threw the disc again and again and again.
• Threw a bachelor party. DJ Haywood spun some mad hits including the Beach Boys, Marvin Gaye and Christmas songs. Believe me, you wish you were there.

I have one more week of the true summer experience. I am proud to say I have proven my meddle as a summer experiencer because I have not been bored, nor complained about not having enough to do, but instead been gleeful occupied for approximately 95% of these past 3 weeks. While my "I have all day to goof off and enjoy myself" ends next monday when my Curriculum Development class starts, after a week of 7 hours of class per day, I drop back to 3 hours per day and hope that 8 hours of play time will be sufficient. I would not want to get too used to this schedule, right?

Odds and Ends

I like cooking.

I like sitting outside when the sun is shining and the temperature is cool and feeling my body be warmed, as if by an embrace, and feeling so content that I never want to move or think about moving, while at that same time knowing that everything will be simply great.

I ended a friendship today. It has caused me so much pain and heart ache that I almost feel like I should be glad that it is so firmly defined. But I can't. I still move to that place by instinct when ever I have dreams of adventure, and now instead of being vibrant, it is broken.

Lord, please make me whole. Help me to believe that every day is new and beautiful and a gift to be taken humbly yet forcefully and that You are still working.

Some times I hate my students. I blame them for not succeeding. And then I look at myself and see a dirty, self-possessed man who cannot break the cycle of conceit and arrogance. I see shit.

I love friends. Tonight we are cooking together. I think this will be good.

This is my verse of the moment. Sometimes I wonder if my faith is truly a by product of weakness, as I have read on various atheist blogs/books. But then I decide I don't care, because I would rather have hope than have nothing at all.

"And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."

He who was seated on the throne said, "I am making everything new!" Then he said, "Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true."

Dinner

Tonight for dinner
i made bison burgers
that sizzle popped grease
and hearty goodness

and somehow
tied me to an earlier time
when grain and wind and sleet and storm
of shaggy dim-eyed majesty
owned the plains

when green-boxed, prevervative free
maccaroni
and organic
steamed broccoli
empassioned my blood.

so wild am i.

Rested and eager ambivalence

I couldn't sleep last night.

Every time I take a break from teaching for longer than the customary 2 day weekend, I get nervous. I don't know why. Maybe I subconsciously think that I will forget what I am doing. Maybe all my kids will come back from break and realize that I don't know what I am doing. Maybe my kids will decide I am boring (too late! Ha!). I don't know.

But, I couldn't sleep last night. So I drugged myself. This is pretty much my standard recourse when I feel sleeping is a mandatory commodity. And actually, this is only the second or third time that I have had *any* trouble sleeping since I have been teaching.

Even though I drugged myself, I woke up at 4:10 am. I couldn't sleep anymore. So I got up.

Surprisingly enough, I felt really rested today. That was awesome. It was a joy to see my kids again, which was also awesome. My patience was back (well sort of). And I loved teaching again.

But, I got done today, and now I don't feel like doing anything. Absolutely nothing. So I am making garlic mashed potatoes from a recipe that I just made up. It's not much of recipe. I boiled potatoes, mashed em up, put in some butter, salt, pepper, garlic (the jar variety), and onion flakes.

I was going to steam vegetables and eat baked chicken too, but then I realized I wasn't hungry.

So I think I am going to go to bed without doing any work and hope for more motivation in the morning. That is my new default reaction to lack of motivation.

And I know I will have that motivation because I haven't written my lesson plans for tomorrow yet. So I will have to get them done.

I can't help but think this is a shoddy way of approaching my job. It is not like I need a break, because I just had one. It is not that I don't care about my kids, because I do.

I need some other possible excuses. Got any?

Thanksgiving Thoughts

Thanksgiving = awesome
1 week off for Thanksgiving = genius

These two equations pretty well summarize my thoughts on this past 8 days of glorious in activity. I visited just about every person I know who lives in Indiana, ate great food, talked about everything there is to talk about, watched a bunch of movies, ran around, laughed, played tennis, enjoyed wearing a t-shirt in Indiana in NOVEMBER! and altogether had a great time.

Now I am back in Houston, and more pressing thoughts are on my mind.
Like what do I want to do with my hair. This is serious business. I am a supposedly professional person now, and yet I am growing my hair long (it hasn't seen shears since July). It is just entering the putrid state of always ugly, that usually prompts some rash decision making on my part.

And really, what do I even want from it? Am I really going to go hippie-tastic all over Alief Middle School? I kinda don't think so.

I mean I could. Mr. Esparza has his hair in a pony-tail every day. It's long. But getting to that point is so painful.

What sucks is that having my hair in the short, gelled spiky variety that was my staple is so boring now. I just don't even want to contemplate it.

The more I think about it, the more I see that I have only two choices: hippie-tastic longness or buzzed. I just can't deal with anything else. And to top it off, people who tell me things tell me that it doesn't look 'good' in either mode. No, these people are definite fans of the clean cut, professional spiky haired jake. Who is lameo.

So I don't know what I am going to do.

About the hair anyway. I do know I am going to go eat an amazing sandwich today.

Pieces -> Mosaic

I just got off the phone with my buddy Kyle (Kyle, you need to read the previous Oct 14th entry).

We were talking about the differences between school and work, the changes in life. You know, reminiscing and subtly lamenting the fact that he is in Ft Wayne and I'm down in Houston.

Anyway, a moment of clarity is upon me. This life I lead, when it is fitting together, is so beautiful and joyful. It makes me want to laugh and dance and weep all at the same time while eating a big hamburger, because hamburgers are a joyful food.

Yes, it is hard to hold on to the perspective of amazement when I am in the midst of all the crap that has been documented here, but it is through those challenges that we are refined right?

Listen (okay, read) Paul's words:
"And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us."
- Romans 2:2-5

This life gives me so much joy. Thank you to everyone who lets me laugh with them.