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March 1, 2007
The mean streets of suburbia: My day is off to a great start....
Don't worry Kelly. They took my radio but left your shoes.Labels: life, photos
Posted at 9:18 AM
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A new kind of Anthem: There have been some Ayn Rand-like realizations on the Internet over the course of the past few months that all this group think may be dangerous. MSNBC reported earlier this week that "meetings make us dumber," citing a study that found people have a tougher time coming up with alternative solutions to problems when they are part of a group.
Now the mighty New Yorker, famous for its thorough fact checking, is fessing up that they, along with the collectively authored online encyclopedia Wikipedia, is fessing up that it was duped by a 24-year-old who falsely claimed he was a professor:
At the time of publication, neither we nor Wikipedia knew Essjay’s real name. Essjay’s entire Wikipedia life was conducted with only a user name; anonymity is common for Wikipedia admin-istrators and contributors, and he says that he feared personal retribution from those he had ruled against online. Essjay now says that his real name is Ryan Jordan, that he is twenty-four and holds no advanced degrees, and that he has never taught. He was recently hired by Wikia—a for-profit company affiliated with Wikipedia—as a “community manager”; he continues to hold his Wikipedia positions. He did not answer a message we sent to him; Jimmy Wales, the co-founder of Wikia and of Wikipedia, said of Essjay’s invented persona, “I regard it as a pseudonym and I don’t really have a problem with it.” And here lies the problem of the Internet, a haven for the lazy and people prone to group think. If a chain is only as strong as its weakest link, we're all only as smart as Essjay. I'll admit that whenever I'm diving into a new topic Google is almost always my first stop, and the plainly-written Wikipedia entries that come up at the top of almost any basic search are a quick read for getting an overview of a topic.
Still, I spent a good 45 minutes of my two-hour class last night trying to convince my students that while the Internet is the greatest research tool ever created, there are other research tools that will help them verify the information they find on the Internet and not make New Yorker mistakes. I didn't have to work as a journalist in the pre-Internet days when every document had to be tracked down with a trip to the court house and every address had to be confirmed with a phone call, and now I'm getting to see the lives of students in the post-Internet generation when research -- and sometimes tailor-written term papers -- are always a few mouse clicks away.
The discussion was a tangent from our advertised topic, which was generating ideas and finding things to write about. The idea was for the students to stumble upon the realization that the best topics to write about are the things we draw from our own personal experience, and the best way to research those topics is to do the legwork and not rely exclusively on a computer (this, of course, is coming from a guy who found the subject for his first book on Craigslist, but the 2+ years of legwork between reading that ad is the difference between a book and a very short blog entry. In a sense, I used that ad to create a set of personal experiences and fuel research that took me to several states and had me interviewing people from around the world).
Because in the end, I'm not sure that the Wiki model really works. It is now being applied to all sorts of endeavors, from sites about cars to a "how to" site that frequently makes appearances in my daily links. The concept is with multiple minds tweaking, editing and contributing, an informational piece of writing becomes more accurate and more trustworthy.
Yet there's a reason why almost every single one of the estimated 1,500 articles I've written over the past ten years or so have my byline right under the headline, and it's not to give me a little ego boost every time I get to see my name in print. It's an accountability issue that let's people find me when I mess up.
As an individual am I smarter and a better writer than the hundreds of people working on a Wiki entry? Probably not. But the group think problems now being exposed in academic studies, and -- to use a second cliché -- the "one bad apple spoils the bunch" principle allows people or groups of people to push agendas and distort information to their liking on sites like Wikipedia.Labels: education, internet, life
Posted at 6:44 AM
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February 23, 2007
Interesting email of the day: I'd like to say this is because of my burgeoning international fame as an author, but somehow I think I'm being mistaken for Stuart Copeland:
Subject: Greetings from your Web site
Hello, My name is Rafal. I am from Poland. My English is not very good. I am Autograph Collector. I am your and The Police (my femous band) big fan ! Please, send to me your two original signed autographs - one for me and one for my brother ;). My adress: XXXX Thanks!
Im really waiting for it!
Best wishes!
Your big fan: Rafal Tamila What the hell? I'm gonna send him a couple of autographs anyhow.
Labels: bloodandvolume, life, writing
Posted at 10:13 AM
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February 22, 2007
Art Sale: Jeffrey Gillis, a talented artist who may or may not have played naked badminton at 17 Southpoint with Bill Plowman back in 1995, is considering all "reasonable offers" for his paintings.
This is your chance to own some cool art, you uncultured slobs.
 Labels: art, life, umass
Posted at 4:04 PM
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February 19, 2007
This dreadful life: I was in Kinko's the other day, picking up a 24 by 36 inch blow up of the Blood & Volume cover that we'll be using for the book release party, the documentary and other appearances. The guy ringing me out, if I had to guess, was in his mid-fifties and took an immediate interest in the artwork and the book.
He asked a series of increasingly "in the know" questions. Was I self-published or did I have a publisher? Which house? How long did it take me to write the book?
"You're talking to a writer, you know," he said after his inquisition.
A writer who was still chasing the dream, and still making slightly more than minimum wage. Still wearing a uniform to work.
"So are you working on anything at the moment?" I asked after he told me about a book that was "pure pulp" that he and a team of writers had written in 11 days in the 1970's.
"I have a couple of projects I'm working on." But it wasn't too convincing and it had the tone I'm a little too familiar with -- the tone of someone who has some good ideas but between work and family and other commitments, no time to get those ideas off the ground.
In a day in age when companies can outsource contract writing jobs for the price of 10 or 20 words per penny and when even the top glossy magazines are still paying the same per-word rate they paid 40 years ago, writing doesn't always seem like an occupation. It's a lottery. For every Grisham and King there are tens of thousands of writers -- some talented, some not -- working menial jobs and wracking up debt while waiting for a break that may never come.
If I'm going to get a break, it's going to happen this year. Beyond the release of Blood & Volume, there's a chance I could sell the film option to the book. There's a chance the documentary focusing on me and the book will be a huge indie success. In April, RCF and I head to L.A. to pitch "Camp" to anyone who will listen, and our prospects seem better than average.
There's a good chance all of these things will click and regular readers of this space will be able to say "I knew him when..." But at the same time there's a chance none of it will come together and I'll still be here a year from now telling you all about the next book (which is quite funny), the next film project (which is unique) or some other project which hasn't even been hatched yet.
It's an ugly, nerve-wracking way to make a living and there are days when the old me -- the me that was angry, bitterly begging for a heart attack and hopped up on too much coffee but shrouded in the security of a 9-to-5 job -- doesn't seem all that bad. When people ask me "How did you get into writing?" or "Why did you choose journalism as a career?" I tell them "It's the only thing I know how to do."
And they laugh because they think I'm joking.
The point of all this? I don't know. Attribute it to too much cold and flu medicine and too much time to do nothing but think about my career as daytime television commercials for the ITT Technical Institute play in between grim-faced Sokolove ads.
Or maybe just wish me luck. The next six months pretty much determine whether I win the lottery or become some hack who needs to decide whether its time to grow up and get a real job or start working at Kinko's as I devise a new plan to take one last shot at the title.Labels: bloodandvolume, life, work, writing
Posted at 2:11 PM
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February 18, 2007
There's a little black spot on the sun today: I'm still sick but seem to have turned the corner to the point that I'm now bored and grumpy that I can't be doing more.
On the plus side, I just found out I have tickets to the Police show at Fenway on July 28.Labels: life, music
Posted at 11:00 AM
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February 5, 2007
Will work for (insert valuable compensation here): Last week I casually mentioned in a post that I had been to New York for "a job interview -- more on that later." I guess later should have come sooner as it was confusing enough to lead some people to wonder if I'm moving away from Boston again (I'm not).
But I am looking for full-time employment, at least until I become rich and famous off of some of the other projects I mention far too often on this site (and in last week's post). My real job for the next few months is all book promotion all the time (with some teaching and writing thrown in), but when that dies down I'd like something a bit less nerve-wracking than freelancing (and I hope it's the job I interviewed for last week -- I'd be a Boston-based correspondent for a trade; I'd have company-paid health insurance and benefits but my pay structure would be like that of a freelancer, meaning my earnings would be dictated by my productivity. And to make the transition back into the 9-to-5 world smoother I'd get to work from home).
Freelancing was a temporary fix to get through grad school and writing my first book. But after more than two years of doing it my ultimate analysis is that freelance writing sucks. Don't get me wrong -- it's been a great learning experience and it definitely taught me a lot about managing my own time and staying productive, but I'm ready for a job where I can focus on the job and not all the administrative crap that comes along with running a freelance business.
Pay rates for freelancers have taken a huge hit in the two and a half years I've been doing it, and I've also noticed that a lot of people are moving the bigger contract writing and editing jobs in house. Meanwhile, companies that are still contracting work out are finding it's a buyer's market, with thousands of alleged writers willing to write for pennies per hour (I was recently asked if I wanted to bid on a job where I'd write 200 articles of 400 words a piece. The "winning" bidder agreed to a rate of $1 per article).
With rates like that, it starts to get a bit frustrating as you try to figure out how you'll cover your overhead: health insurance alone costs $4,000 a year. A byline in a major glossy is a great pay day and lot of fun, but they are few and far between for all but the best freelancers. I'm certain I could get as many of those as I have been -- if not more -- if I were working full time.
Beyond that, every day is a job hunt, and once you've hunted down the job you have to hunt down your payment. Freelancers are known for being the last to get paid; it's not like we're the electric company, who can turn off the lights when someone refuses or stalls in paying us. By the time it's time to pay us, they have what they need from us and companies and clients take advantage of that. In the time I have been doing this I have been stiffed for more than $6,000 -- small- and medium-sized payments that weren't worth pursuing in court or through collections agencies (it's not cost-effective to try to track down $1,500 you're owed by a client in Australia). Even when they do pay, it's rarely when they say it will be.
So why the long post on my frustration? Two reasons. First, I get asked all the time if it's worth doing it, living the dream that a lot of writers strive for. And for me, the answer has been "not really." Freelancing is right for some people but it's no longer right for me. If I were married and on someone else's health insurance, or if I wanted to work part time and was in a position where I didn't have to worry about when (or even if) the checks will come in, I'd be all over it. And regardless of what happens moving forward, I will continue to freelance at least part-time.
The second reason is directed at regular readers and friends: keep your ears open for me. I'm obviously looking for something writing-related, but I've also gotten a big kick out of teaching these first few weeks of the spring semester so I'd like to get some more adjunct work or even a faculty position at a New England-based college. I definitely have a track record for working independently and would prefer something in the realm of telecommuting, but that is certainly not a necessity. And, as always, I continue to look for freelance work: fair paying and long-term contract work suits me best given my current schedule, but I can always find time for a quick-hit job.
Labels: life, work, writing
Posted at 9:52 AM
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February 2, 2007
Another day, another interview: I'm interviewed on Tim Jackson's Maybe I'm Amazed. I talk about book groupies (sort of) and other literary stuff, as well as my taste in music.
And don't forget yesterday's interview at tellhimfred.com.Labels: blogging, bloodandvolume, books, life
Posted at 3:46 PM
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The curse of MySpace: I was a fringe member of the Massachusetts Daily Collegian staff between 1993 and 1996. I wasn't part of the inner circle, the kids who sacrificed nights and passing grades to put out New England's largest collegiate daily each Monday through Friday during the school year, but they did let me do my thing, write a column and learn the power of the written word (being cornered in the walk-in cooler of the south Amherst Dairy Mart with an angry redneck chucking bottles of Snapple at you is a crash course in the impact your writing can have).
Casey Kane appeared in my consciousness sometime during my last year at UMass. She was dating the editor-in-chief, a likable guy who I had a friendly but not-too-close relationship with. Matt Vautour and I had both interned at the Daily Hampshire Gazette and we both covered the then-fledgling UMass hockey team, so we had some common ground -- we bonded by taking some friendly digs at some of the staff writers at the Gazette and occasionally talked sports and newspapers.
If I had a conversation with Casey Kane, I don't remember it outside of nodding the occasional hello. I'm pretty sure she was nice, friendly and somewhat on the shy side. I probably remember more about her writing. She was one of the few female writer's on the Collegian's sports desk and -- on a desk dominated by sports geeks who wrote articles crammed with stats, jargon and meaningless quotes -- she wrote stories. Bona-fide news stories with rich detail and compelling images.
Or so I think -- it was a long time ago.
After graduation they weren't going to be the type of couple I would think about often, as I'm sure they didn't give much more than the occasional passing thought on the "I wonder what happened to Dave Copeland?" question. A year or two after graduation RCF and I were back for a visit and bumped into Vautour, who was by then a staff writer at the Gazette. He and Casey were still together and I figured that was it: for the rest of my life I can assume that he and Casey lived happily ever after. And even if they didn't, I would be none the wiser.
They even came up in conversation when I was in New York last weekend. "Did Vatour end up with that Collegian girl?" RCF asked.
I said I assumed so.
But then along comes MySpace, the blessing and the curse that allows people from our past to check in on us. Last night I got a friends request from Vautour and I immediately tore through his page to see what he's been up to and if there's info on any of our mutual acquaintances. I rifle through his photo page and see that he still looks pretty much the same; if that journalism thing doesn't work out for him, I'd gladly cast him, his shaved head and his thick beard as a Russian gangster in Blood & Volume -- The Movie.
There is a photo of him and Casey sitting in Green Monster seats at Fenway. The caption reads "Me and Casey. I miss her." My gut instinct says they didn't stay together and he's having a bit of a rough time getting over it. I mean, really -- we're in our early- to mid-thirties -- what else could it be? Probably not a cool thing to put up there if your new girlfriend is going to check out your MySpace page, but hey -- his problem, not mine.
But then in his MySpace blog I see a link to something called Casey Memories. An article? A fickr page? I still want to believe things are good so I again think here's a guy having a really tough time getting over an ex. But when I click Casey Memories it's pretty damn clear that this is so much more awful than just a breakup.
As best I can tell, Casey died nearly three years ago of Hodgkin's disease. She would've been just about to turn 29 when she died.
I didn't read too much on the site -- I didn't know her and probably would've never seen her again. It felt too nosy to pore through these testimonials from people who really did know her and really did love her.
Yet it's been on my mind enough today that I've banged out several hundred words on her. I've been googling other acquaintances and old friends from UMass in hopes of making sure everyone else is okay, or at least still alive. I had a moment of panic when I thought about the people I'm close to now but may lose touch with and wondered if, when and how I'd learn about their demise? (Note to self: try not to lose touch with those people).
And I've spent a good chunk of the day cursing the Internet. Yes, places like MySpace are great for letting us know that old and forgotten friends are doing well, but they also interrupt an otherwise perfectly good Thursday evening and let us know when those same old friends aren't doing well. I curse cancer on a daily basis and cursed it a little harder today. I'm really resisting the urge to break out all the cliches about reckless, random death and the passing of someone who is so young.
Matt, it was great to hear from you and, while I'm glad you're still in journalism and doing as well as can be expected, I'm sorry you've been through so much these past few years.Labels: life, umass
Posted at 1:51 PM
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February 1, 2007
Me as a regular person: I am featured in today's edition of tellhimfred.com's "Interviews With Regular People." I talk about Blood & Volume, book promotion, film, blogging and my "to do" list system for keeping organized and productive.Labels: blogging, bloodandvolume, books, life
Posted at 9:10 AM
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January 27, 2007
Saying "no" to Boston: I'm making a smart decision today, but it's still a tough one.
Yesterday I was asked if I wanted a number for the Boston Marathon in April. It would mean raising $3,000 for Leukemia-Lymphoma Society as soon as possible and catching up with my training over the course of the next few weeks. My fears would be reversed from my last marathon: the last time I worried about training but wasn't too concerned about fund raising. This time I'm certain I could get through the training, but the fund raising is the sticking point.
I'm asking a lot of people I know this year. Loads of people I know gave generously to my Dublin Marathon effort, and loads of people are being asked to buy my book, attend a book release party and book signings, and just generally be supportive as I embark on another first-time adventure.
And training would not have been a picnic, either: the three months between now and Boston are the three months where I need to focus almost exclusively on book promotion and selling the film rights. Camp, our T.V. series, seems to be getting a second wind, and it looks like I'm going to be the subject of a documentary film on releasing book. I'm training for several half marathons and I'm staying involved with Team In Training by becoming a volunteer mentor with the season that kicks off next week. It's an exciting time, but, for example, trying to find time to squeeze in a 20-mile run when I'm in Pittsburgh in late March doesn't seem like it would be all that easy.
Boston is on my list and for the past 24 hours it's been exciting to think I'd be able to check it off in just a few more months -- especially where so many of my friends are running this year's Boston Marathon. But there will be other Boston Marathons and taking a few more months to recover from Dublin is probably the smart and prudent thing to do.
I don't have to make a final decision until Monday and if 100 people left comments pledging $30 donations between now and Sunday night I may very well be tempted to change my mind. But for now this seems like the smart thing to do -- plus I have Red Sox tickets for Patriots Day, so it's not going to be all bad.
Since I won't be running, I'll repeat a plea I've made before. If you are reading this and want to support some people who are running Boston for a good cause, consider making donations to any and all of the following:
http://www.active.com/donate/tntma/tntmaKFlynn1 http://www.active.com/donate/tntma/run4acure http://www.active.com/donate/tntma/lpepicelliboston
http://www.active.com/donate/tntma/tntmaJRaymon http://www.active.com/donate/tntma/tntmaMMilanoLabels: bloodandvolume, life, running, TNT
Posted at 11:41 AM
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January 24, 2007
You should have called in sick today: Marketers call January 24 the worst day of the year. Their reasoning includes:
- On average, it's the day people get their credit card bills with all of their holiday spending.
- It is the approximate date on which most people give up or have given up on their New Year's resolutions.
- While it's sunny here today, the day is on the shorter side and the potential for snow and other inclement weather is at its highest.
Not surprisingly, the travel industry uses the formula in the linked article (which is from 2005 but still relevant) to predict when people will book themselves a vacation: "It seems that people are most likely to buy a ticket to paradise when they feel like hell."Labels: life
Posted at 9:22 AM
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January 22, 2007
An anniversary, of sorts: It was two years ago today that Ron Gonen called me for the first time. It was a Saturday afternoon and it was about to snow in Pittsburgh, and the next thing I know I'm having a two-hour conversation with some guy with a crazy accent and embarking on a project that dramatically changed my career.
Turns out we're in good company -- we share the same anniversary with the Mac.
I had responded to an add on Craigslist the previous November that said, in part, "We live in the witness protection program and are looking for a writer to tell our story to." Hundreds of hours on the phone later, the book is on the verge of being in stores (it was released to the printer on Thursday), I'm trying to sell the film options and there's talk that I'll be the subject of a documentary about the publishing industry.
I'm not usually big on anniversaries as ways of marking time and personal change, but it has been a rather interesting two years. These past two years are the same two years that will be, with a little luck, covered in the next book. That is if I can find enough time to break away from promotion, selling film rights and working on the documentary to actually write the proposal.
In any case, it seemed worth mentioning.Labels: bloodandvolume, life
Posted at 7:22 AM
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January 8, 2007
R.I.P., iPod: I'm allowed to use the R.I.P. headline because I actually did have an intimate relationship with my iPod. It's been on the fritz lately and today's dog walk in the pouring rain seems to have pushed it over the edge, despite my best efforts to keep it dry and squeeze a few last songs out of it over the past few weeks.
I have very few possessions I use on a daily basis, but my iPod was definitely one of them. Nothing reinvigorated my passion for music like it did when Record Company Friend gave it to me for my birthday nearly two years ago. As is typical, R.C.F. was three months late in getting me my birthday gift, but he generally makes up for his tardiness with his generosity.
I'm going to try to see if I can con Apple into sending me a refurbished one, but it's not looking good. Besides, it might be a nice to excuse upgrade to something cooler and newer. And in the mean time, at least I still have my Sirius...
And in case you were wondering *blatant hint* my 34th birthday is on March 10.Labels: life, music
Posted at 6:13 PM
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January 7, 2007
I promise to remember you, the little people: The comments have been cryptic and they're going to stay that way, at least publicly. But I know more than a few of you have picked up on me dropping hints about making Blood & Volume into a movie.
For the record, no deals have been signed and there are no guarantees. A producer is interested and wants to generate more interest (which means the book release party may or may not be even more interesting than it would've been even if it was "just" a book release party). The idea now is to attach a big name actor to it and, failing that, look into finding investors to go the indie route. It would be a long, complex process if I decide to go forward, and as is often the case in creative fields, a process that is rife with potential disappointment.
This is the side of the business they don't teach you in writing school, and it's the side of the business I'm going to have to learn through trial and error. But let's be honest: at one point I didn't really know jack about book publishing, and that seems to have gone well. So just when I thought I was sick of Blood & Volume and ready to put it to bed, I'm starting to let myself get caught up in the little daydreams of seeing "Based on the book by Dave Copeland" on the screen at my local cineplex.
In other words, I've come this far. Why not take a shot at the title?Labels: bloodandvolume, life, movies
Posted at 12:32 PM
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January 2, 2007
Life goes on: I'll be light on posting over the next few days. I'm off to New York on Wednesday for a meeting about getting my book made into a movie, and then I'll be doing the family thing through the weekend. I'll try to check in when I can, but I may not be doing daily links or anything all that profound until next week.Labels: blogging, bloodandvolume, life
Posted at 8:52 PM
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Do something: He was a father and husband. He was a minister and counselor. He was a grandfather, uncle and armchair comedian, quick to tell a corny joke that still makes me smile:
"How do you catch a unique rabbit?" Uncle Vinnie would ask me each year as Thanksgiving afternoon turned into Thanksgiving night.
"I dunno," eight- or nine-year-old me would respond.
"You nique up on it!"
And more than anything else, he was a fighter. More than four years ago doctors diagnosed him with quickly spreading liver cancer. The implication he shouldn't make any long term plans. I seem to remember "six months" as being the term that was thrown around.
My Uncle Vinnie didn't like that diagnosis and he fought his disease. He didn't beat it, but he fought it and it wasn't until today that he died.
Since August he has been living in a rehab center and when I went to visit him on the day after Thanksgiving it struck me that he had been brought to that place to essentially wait to die.
Yet it was obvious he didn't see it that way. He was a man of faith and put the well being of his friends and family first -- he assured us he was being well taken care of and that he was comfortable.
For the past two weeks staff at the rehab center have marveled that he remained alive. I don't put much stock in this, but it did seem as if he was hanging on, hoping that someday, after they had had some time to heal, his family wouldn't have to remember the holidays as the anniversary of his death.
It's the type of death where people say things like "It's better this way" and "Now he's at peace." And it's true; the past few months for him have been exisiting, not living. But I also resent those attitudes and dream of a day -- perhaps in a naive and hokey sense -- when we won't have to deal with losing loved ones to cancer.
So I'm saying the same thing I said in November. Do something about it. While my uncle didn;t die of leukemia, I have begun talking with some people about doing another marathon with Team In Training. Cancer is cancer and it all sucks, so it's what I can do. And, as I said in November, you want to do something to make me happy in the mean time, consider helping another Team In Training athlete with a donation. The following are links to donation pages for people who are all training to run the Boston Marathon and who all had a huge hand in making my marathon possible. Donate to one of them or all of them if you can. I know they’d tell you that the smallest donations help: http://www.active.com/donate/tntma/tntmaKFlynn1 http://www.active.com/donate/tntma/run4acure http://www.active.com/donate/tntma/lpepicelliboston
http://www.active.com/donate/tntma/tntmaJRaymon http://www.active.com/donate/tntma/tntmaMMilano
If I’m missing anyone, let me know and I’ll get a link up. Labels: life, TNT
Posted at 4:08 PM
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December 28, 2006
Another lesson from my teacher: "We should go over and say hello," Melissa says.
I am hesitant. We are sitting in a restaurant and moments earlier we had seen him enter a restaurant across Main Street in Melrose. He was hunched over a walker and, physically, a shell of the man I remember as my U.S. History teacher in my junior year of high school. I know it may be the last time I see him and I am not good with good byes.
He has been ill for quite some time. Two years ago and just before he died my father and a friend had gone to visit Freeman Frank. "He didn't look good, but he was alert," my father had said.
My father died less than two weeks after that visit.
He taught U.S. History. Kids didn't mess around in his class. If you messed around you were bound to miss something interesting. He taught in a narrative style that brought U.S. History alive. He didn't teach a series of dates and names but our shared experience and the emotions of the people who lived through the times we were learning about.
He had a passion for books, reading long passages from Steinbeck to illustrate the unit on the Great Depression. Seeing him draw emotions from the printed page is more than a small part of why I wanted to become a writer. Knowing that words could make people passionate is a big perk of this profession, but I had never really seen -- had never really felt -- that passion until I heard Mr. Frank read from Grapes of Wrath.
I have been thinking about Mr. Frank lately. Next month I start my own teaching career with two classes of advanced English composition at Newbury College. If I am a tenth of the teacher that Mr. Frank is, I will consider myself successful.
We finish our lunch, pay our bill and Melissa leads me across the street. She knows him and we find him seated in the back of the restaurant with a group of eight or nine other men. He is engaged in a conversation and Melissa politely interrupts him to reintroduce herself. She starts to reintroduce me but he knows who I am.
"You look just like your father," he says. I hear that often.
Did I say he was a shell of the man I remember? I was wrong. He is alert and his eyes dance with the genuine happiness I remember, a genuine happiness that emits from people who genuinely like engaging with other people. He remembers that I was the youngest in my family "by a long shot" and tells Melissa about the day I was born. My oldest sister was on his debate team and she came in on that Saturday in March of 1973 to announce she had a new baby brother.
"And the next thing I know that baby brother is sitting in my classroom in front of me," Mr. Frank says.
He talks about my father's visit and how much it had meant to him. He tells me that my father was a good man but knows that I do not need to be told that. Before that day two years ago he had only known my dad in passing, as a man dropping kids off to school functions and offering polite hellos. I suspect in September 2004 they talked for hours because like my dad, Mr. Frank is a gifted conversationalist. The kind of person who talks and listens, the kind of person people remember talking to.
"The thing that impressed me most about your father is that he knew everything about everything," Mr. Frank says and I smile. Anyone who ever met my dad and spent more than a few minutes talking with him could say the same thing.
Waiters are delivering food to the table full of men and need to get by us. We say a polite but hurried good bye and shuffle backwards away from the table. It's just as well: I couldn't have lasted much longer than that. A routine day off had turned into something bigger, something I hadn't expected. I am overcome with emotion. I am happy and sad, elated and devastated all at once.
I am so proud of my dad that on that day, even with his own life thrown into uncertainty by an awful disease, he went to see a friend and was his typical self -- optimistic and more interested in someone else's well being than his own. I am elated that a teacher I had 16 years ago, a teacher who was one of the ones who made a huge difference in my life, is still a story teller and still sharp.
On the sidewalk in front of the restaurant I well up. This was not something I expected or wanted. But this is not an experience or day I would trade for anything in the world.Labels: education, life
Posted at 11:46 PM
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December 15, 2006
My burgeoning career in academia: I just got unofficial word that I passed the MTEL tests I took last month, despite a feeling of dread that I was destined to fail them because I did not study.
I'm wondering what is says about secondary teacher certification that someone can walk in cold and pass them, but that's another thought for another day.
And it looks like there's a chance I'll be teaching advanced English composition at Newbury College next semester, which is the level I've wanted to teach at all along.Labels: education, life
Posted at 4:08 PM
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November 25, 2006
Hello world, remember me? About all I want to tell you about my high school reunion is that15 years out people either look exactly the same or leave you wondering "Who the hell is that?" And that the Fish & Game Club in Melrose is still the sketchiest place in the world to end a night. And that high school reunions are a good place to promote a book. And that I am living to regret the Boston Herald's photo of me. And that the best line of the night was "Wait until the 20th reunion when everyone is divorced -- this place will be an orgy."Labels: life
Posted at 8:10 AM
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