The end of the school year.

3 weeks left…and after 21 years of doing special education in the public schools there are four certainties:

1. no matter what the temperature is the kids will be “too hot!!!!!”
2. a number of necessary assignments that were never turned in (and now are vital) will be “lost by my teacher!!”
3. a shocking number of teenagers will discover their cell phones have not been the academic blessing they believed them to be
4. the students (as we did in the 60s) will mistakenly believe they are the only ones that TRULY want the school year to end

Things are bad when an impeachment is the big wish.  I remember when it was the Detroit Tigers being in first place in July, Magic Johnson going to Michigan State, a tv with color, or Lost in Space getting renewed for another year.  My life seems to have grown more complicated without a corresponding degree of interest from me.

I think I am drawn to people that fall outside the bounds of the mainstream.  People that are odd, unique, perhaps even down right weird.  Maybe it is a matter of it being easier for me to hide among them,  but maybe it is an unwitting recognition that life is too short to be easy or mundane.

I like people that are searching for something.  People that don’t have the answers, and in fact aren’t even sure what the real question is.

Summer days with no school, a Tiger game, and REAL Michigan grass is where I retreat to.  Nevada’s been kind to me, and Portland is the finest city (and people) I have ever been a part of.  But in the end the place I go to for simple and wholesome bliss is under a tree with a small radio waiting to hear about the adventures of Mr. Kaline, Tram, Lou, or the rest of the fellas.  Four decades of Tiger memories make my happy place warm, cozy, and uniquely mine.

The tragic thing is that we are all living tragedies in one form or another.

It may not effect the rest of you but my world is fabulous.  All I need is a piece of paper and a pencil and everything is “ok.”  Well things may not “ok” but they are at least manageable.  My Doodles are a constant reminder that even when the worst things happen there is something to be derived from them.  Some part of it teachers you something or lends you insight.  Or perhaps whatever the tragedy is it links you to other people or feelings that you had not taken the time to examine.

I haven’t lived in Michigan for 15 years, but I spent my first 40 there and I miss it.  But starting a car to get to school at 6:00 am is still a flashback I have to deal with.  However everything in life seems to be a trade off.  If getting up an hour early and having to start a frigid car at 40 was awful (and it is still my measure of what true cold is) then it is just as true that being a kid in the state was delightful.

The snow days, the Wings vs the Avalanche at the height of their hate for each other, the changing colors of the leafs, playing hockey on a pond with a broomstick for a goalie stick, and Tiger baseball in the summer.  It is still home even though I can’t go back, and it will remain home until I die even if my situation doesn’t ever allow for my return.