So, prior to last week's blog (no, these won't necessarily be weekly, but I'm going to try to have at least a couple per month), I hadn't posted on this blog in over five years. I was about to get married. It's wild to think that far back, in a way.
Now, I sit here at twenty to seven in the morning at my family condo in Grand Lake, Colorado with three generations of Peteranetzes. My dad is sitting in his traditional recliner up here, my wife is playing with my son, and my mom is still asleep. We're watching the Weather Channel as they track Winter Storm Eboni (Things I hate: That we now name winter storms).
While I realize that most who follow this blog are people that I know, people who started following it when I moved to Nebraska in 2011 and wanted updates about my life, I know there are also people who are following because of my writing for cornnation.com. I'm guessing a few of you will just stumble upon it as you're scouring the internet for... something? I'm glad you're all here, and it struck me that now's probably a great time to introduce all of you to me.
As mentioned earlier, I'm a married man with a son. My wife is Dr. Markeya Peteranetz. She earned a PhD in Educational Psychology from the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. My son, Everett, is a year old. As it stands right now he's begun to walk and points at things and says what we think is "That!"
I am a fourth grade teacher and volleyball coach. I teach and coach for Dorchester Public School in Dorchester, Nebraska, a town of about 600 people 30 miles west-southwest of Lincoln. I've been teaching since 2007 and started coaching volleyball when I was in college in Colorado Springs, Colorado. I think that was 2002. It might've been '01, though.
I was born and raised in Colorado. I grew up in what I, at the time, considered a small town, Lafayette. Lafayette, as my dad describes it, is 20 miles north of Denver. Specifically, it's on the eastern side of Boulder County. Husker fans, I grew up 10 miles due east of the University of Colorado at Boulder.
This is not going to be some long autobiographical post. I will tell stories from my life on this site going forward, mixed in with other thoughts on politics, sports, weather, science, and likely dozens of other things that I am in no way qualified to write about.
Many friends of mine would likely have told you that I am the epitome of a Colorado kid (Yes, I turn 38 on Saturday. Kid is probably not an apt description any more, but I DON'T CARE!). I love the mountains and everything that seems ingrained as part of the Colorado lifestyle, being outside. In fact, I still identify as a Coloradoan, though I'm also a proud Nebraskan.
I've been a Husker fan as long as I can remember. My Uncle Dave was determined to convert either me or my brother, Jay. Depending on your perspective I'm either the weak-minded one or the smart one. I know I was a Husker fan before the 1994 Football National Title. I also know I was a Buffs fan when they won the 1991 Football National Title.
Fast forward to how I ended up living in Lincoln, Nebraska. The opportunity came to coach collegiate volleyball at the College of St. Mary in Omaha. I thought that coaching at the college level was a dream of mine (Narrator: It was, sort of). However, I missed teaching desperately and wanted to get back to it.
By that time, I'd met the woman who would become my wife. Friends had joked that I'd meet her within six months of moving to Nebraska since I was such a Husker fan. They were right. We met within three months. She was going to get that PhD I mentioned earlier from UNL, so I pursued jobs in Lincoln.
In my time in Dorchester, in particular, I've learned more about agriculture than I'd ever thought I'd learn. I can confidently talk about how rain affects both harvest and planting. I never knew I'd be able to discuss things like irrigation and field size. I don't feel like I need to leave the room when people start discussing these things.
I married a woman who's into fitness, and I don't mean the stupid "fitness whole pizza into my mouth." I now enjoy running and lifting. I like fitness, too.
I've often said volleyball brought me everything that's good in my life. It's true. I met Keya at a volleyball camp. My job at Dorchester is due in no small part to volleyball. My closest friends in Lincoln are thanks to volleyball. I moved to Nebraska in the first place because of volleyball.
I will try to keep updating this regularly. Hopefully this gives you a little better idea of who I am as you read this. Thank you for reading this piece. It'd be great if you like it and share it with friends. Yes, it's a shameless plug, but please follow me on Twitter (@coach_ty6) and Instagram (@coachty6). Posts here, and on social media will be all over the place, but if you've liked what I've written so far, I think you'll enjoy that.
Thank you!
Thursday, December 27, 2018
Thursday, December 20, 2018
Reflections on the Most Incredible Six Years
Many of you who are choosing to read this know me from my time at cornnation.com. Some of you reading this know nothing of that. That's okay. Let me bring you up to date.
Look. The last time I updated this blog, it was just over a week before I was to get married. If you bear with me, you'll hear a lot about married life on here. That's part of the plan, at least. Hell, I'll even tell you about being a parent. I've been truly blessed.
However, I wanted to mention more here than I mentioned in my final cornnation.com article. If I'd talked about all of it, it would have felt self-serving and that's not what I strove for in my role there. I'll talk a bit more about that in a bit. However, this blog is ENTIRELY SELF-SERVING and my weird self-esteem having ass is all about that.
When it comes to cornnation.com (CN going foward), it's important to note the CN is the Nebraska site of the larger sbnation.com network. SB stands for Sports Blog (as I understand it). Essentially, the sites are run by people who have real jobs but are deeply passionate about their teams. There are teams for all the major professional leagues and most of the best-known colleges. There's a NASCAR page.
Nevertheless, there are not a ton of professional journalists at any of the SBNation sites. The relationship with the sites and their teams vary greatly. CN has a great relationship with the Nebraska athletic department.
So how did I end up at CN? Accident. Both Keya and I followed a Twitter account that was essentially a road sign in Lincoln. We thought it was a well-known parody site for all things Nebraska. We thought it was a LOT better known than it actually is. We were wrong. But, the man behind that site is a brilliant and kind man.
So Keya was a grad student at UNL. We decided to go the Red-White Volleyball Scrimmage. It was the first match held at the Bob Devaney Sports Center in Lincoln. It was the great unveiling of the 8,000 seat home volleyball arena for the Huskers. We'd just gotten married and it was going to be awesome. While watching the match, Keya saw a tweet from Salt Creek and Stadium (the aforementioned Twitter account) that said he wrote for this website and Nebraska fans were voracious when it came to supporting volleyball. CN would love to have a volleyball writer.
Welp, I'd spent the previous football season writing for foreverahusker.com. My football writing was, at best, bad. I love football, but when it comes to breaking down Xs and Os, I am NOT the person you want. I coach volleyball. I played it in high school. I love the sport. I had no idea what it would require of me, but I believe my response was something like, "I coach and play volleyball, and I've written for the internet before. I'm interested."
Well, Jon Johnston, the big boss man at CN, reached out and we talked about what being a CN contributor would mean. I'd have a press pass. I'd get to go to every Husker home match. While I didn't realize it then, I'd get to ask questions of the coaches and players in press conferences.
Hell yeah I jumped on that opportunity. I was newly married, but we both kinda realized this was an opportunity I couldn't pass up. Plus, there'd be more times when we would both head to Husker matches. Win-win.
It ended up being more than I'd ever imagined. Yeah, I got to go to a ton of Husker matches. Yeah, I got inside and insight that I'd never dreamed of, but let me tell you something.
I could talk about the excitement of seeing myself on ESPN right behind Karch Kiraly and Beth Mowins on the National Championship telecast in 2015. That was neat. I got to interview and talk to people I'd never have imagined.
In 2016, I got a press pass to cover the NORCECA Olympic Qualifier that was played at Pinnacle Bank Arena here in Lincoln. I got to interview Karch Kiraly, USA National Team Head Coach.
In 2018, I was credentialed to cover the first round of the Volley Nations League, the FIVB's great new strategy to get national teams playing more often and in front of more people. That first round was played at Devaney here in Lincoln.
That's awesome, but I get chills every time I think or talk about the fact that twice, I got to cover Nebraska National Championships.
Now, when we found out that the NORCECA qualifier was going to be in Lincoln, it was about the same time that Nebraska made the Final Four in Omaha in 2015. I was advised to try to get credentialed for both. I was also told that the NORCECA credentials would be easy, but the NCAA credentials would be much less likely. Alright, I thought, I might as well.
I got the NORCECA credentials almost immediately. It turns out that because the match was in Nebraska, the local USAVolleyball region was mostly in charge. I didn't lessen my excitement, but it was still awesome and unbelievable to me, a teacher and local high school and club coach.
The next day I got the email that my credential request for the Final Four had been approved. I was beside myself. I had been told it was a million-to-one longshot and here I was, with credentials. Again, a fourth grade teacher and volleyball coach with NO JOURNALISM TRAINING was going to be covering the biggest weekend of the sport that had really brought me everything good in my life.
From there, I had the privilege of representing CN and covering four consecutive Final Fours and three out of four National Championship matches.
There is nothing, NOTHING, like the feeling of being courtside/on the sideline when your favorite team reaches the pinnacle of their sport. As I mentioned, I still get chills even thinking about it, let alone describing it to people.
When Nebraska won the natty in 2015 and the streamers fell from the CenturyLink Center (Now CHI Health Center) ceiling, I actually didn't know how to respond. I'm pretty sure, buried on my twitter (@coach_ty6) page from that night, December 19, 2015, is the video of that night including match point.
I cannot appropriately convey in words what it's been like to live that moment twice. in 2017, it was in Kansas City at the Sprint Center less than ten days after my son was born. Let's just say it was different emotions than 2015, but no less strong.
All of that. All of the proceeding words were written to say this. The years I spent as a writer with CN were incredible. Yes, it felt burdensome from time to time when I was rushing from my own Dorchester volleyball practice to cover Husker volleyball, but I never lost track of the incredible privilege I had.
To even start to imagine that I'd get all I got from CN, even to the very last match at the Target Center in Minneapolis, I'd have told you you were crazy. I love volleyball. I love the Huskers, but to get to be part of the media contingent covering the team I've been following since 1995 was well beyond what I'd ever have imagined.
Thanks to my time at CN, I've made an unbelievable number of new friends I'd never have dreamed. CN team, thank you. Thank you for the support, the laughs, and the platform.
Any readers who've followed me here from CN, thank you. The comments on my last article were unbelievably moving. You made this humble guy from Colorado feel really, really important.
It's incredible what happens when you take a chance. Though my dad might not have done it intentionally, one of the most powerful messages I got from Gene Peteranetz was never be afraid to ask, and never be afraid to take an opportunity. CN was an unbelievable opportunity that I'll never forget and has made me a better coach and a more grateful man.
And, I should mention, that Jon Johnston is one of the kindest people I've ever had the pleasure to meet. Yes, he's obnoxious and yes, he can be a lot to handle sometimes, but he is so full of grace and kindness that I smile at every memory of the man.
Earlier I mentioned trying to maintain a semblance of professional journalism in my time with CN. I was often the subject of light ribbing about not wearing red to Husker matches. I always answered that I wanted to maintain the illusion of objectivity. The best counter I got was someone who asked who I covered, and to name the website I contributed to. I mean, that person was right, but I felt a certain obligation to CN's reputation.
Now that the Huskers have re-established themselves as a regular national contender, I hope that when the NCAA sees CN on credential apps, my contribution will help with the consideration.
I am still in awe of the things I was so fortunate to get to do as a contributor for CN. I built a following I had no idea about. I played some small part in helping people in Nebraska understand volleyball a little bit better.
I will forever be grateful for everything that was part of CN. Now that I've ended this entry, that sense of finality and loss I experienced on Sunday has returned. I will miss the people at CN, though they know how to reach me and that we've plenty of room for them here. I hope that I will get to see them again.
Since this entry is mostly about CN, I'll end it the same way I ended everyone of my CN articles.
GBR
Look. The last time I updated this blog, it was just over a week before I was to get married. If you bear with me, you'll hear a lot about married life on here. That's part of the plan, at least. Hell, I'll even tell you about being a parent. I've been truly blessed.
However, I wanted to mention more here than I mentioned in my final cornnation.com article. If I'd talked about all of it, it would have felt self-serving and that's not what I strove for in my role there. I'll talk a bit more about that in a bit. However, this blog is ENTIRELY SELF-SERVING and my weird self-esteem having ass is all about that.
When it comes to cornnation.com (CN going foward), it's important to note the CN is the Nebraska site of the larger sbnation.com network. SB stands for Sports Blog (as I understand it). Essentially, the sites are run by people who have real jobs but are deeply passionate about their teams. There are teams for all the major professional leagues and most of the best-known colleges. There's a NASCAR page.
Nevertheless, there are not a ton of professional journalists at any of the SBNation sites. The relationship with the sites and their teams vary greatly. CN has a great relationship with the Nebraska athletic department.
So how did I end up at CN? Accident. Both Keya and I followed a Twitter account that was essentially a road sign in Lincoln. We thought it was a well-known parody site for all things Nebraska. We thought it was a LOT better known than it actually is. We were wrong. But, the man behind that site is a brilliant and kind man.
So Keya was a grad student at UNL. We decided to go the Red-White Volleyball Scrimmage. It was the first match held at the Bob Devaney Sports Center in Lincoln. It was the great unveiling of the 8,000 seat home volleyball arena for the Huskers. We'd just gotten married and it was going to be awesome. While watching the match, Keya saw a tweet from Salt Creek and Stadium (the aforementioned Twitter account) that said he wrote for this website and Nebraska fans were voracious when it came to supporting volleyball. CN would love to have a volleyball writer.
Welp, I'd spent the previous football season writing for foreverahusker.com. My football writing was, at best, bad. I love football, but when it comes to breaking down Xs and Os, I am NOT the person you want. I coach volleyball. I played it in high school. I love the sport. I had no idea what it would require of me, but I believe my response was something like, "I coach and play volleyball, and I've written for the internet before. I'm interested."
Well, Jon Johnston, the big boss man at CN, reached out and we talked about what being a CN contributor would mean. I'd have a press pass. I'd get to go to every Husker home match. While I didn't realize it then, I'd get to ask questions of the coaches and players in press conferences.
Hell yeah I jumped on that opportunity. I was newly married, but we both kinda realized this was an opportunity I couldn't pass up. Plus, there'd be more times when we would both head to Husker matches. Win-win.
It ended up being more than I'd ever imagined. Yeah, I got to go to a ton of Husker matches. Yeah, I got inside and insight that I'd never dreamed of, but let me tell you something.
I could talk about the excitement of seeing myself on ESPN right behind Karch Kiraly and Beth Mowins on the National Championship telecast in 2015. That was neat. I got to interview and talk to people I'd never have imagined.
In 2016, I got a press pass to cover the NORCECA Olympic Qualifier that was played at Pinnacle Bank Arena here in Lincoln. I got to interview Karch Kiraly, USA National Team Head Coach.
In 2018, I was credentialed to cover the first round of the Volley Nations League, the FIVB's great new strategy to get national teams playing more often and in front of more people. That first round was played at Devaney here in Lincoln.
That's awesome, but I get chills every time I think or talk about the fact that twice, I got to cover Nebraska National Championships.
Now, when we found out that the NORCECA qualifier was going to be in Lincoln, it was about the same time that Nebraska made the Final Four in Omaha in 2015. I was advised to try to get credentialed for both. I was also told that the NORCECA credentials would be easy, but the NCAA credentials would be much less likely. Alright, I thought, I might as well.
I got the NORCECA credentials almost immediately. It turns out that because the match was in Nebraska, the local USAVolleyball region was mostly in charge. I didn't lessen my excitement, but it was still awesome and unbelievable to me, a teacher and local high school and club coach.
The next day I got the email that my credential request for the Final Four had been approved. I was beside myself. I had been told it was a million-to-one longshot and here I was, with credentials. Again, a fourth grade teacher and volleyball coach with NO JOURNALISM TRAINING was going to be covering the biggest weekend of the sport that had really brought me everything good in my life.
From there, I had the privilege of representing CN and covering four consecutive Final Fours and three out of four National Championship matches.
There is nothing, NOTHING, like the feeling of being courtside/on the sideline when your favorite team reaches the pinnacle of their sport. As I mentioned, I still get chills even thinking about it, let alone describing it to people.
When Nebraska won the natty in 2015 and the streamers fell from the CenturyLink Center (Now CHI Health Center) ceiling, I actually didn't know how to respond. I'm pretty sure, buried on my twitter (@coach_ty6) page from that night, December 19, 2015, is the video of that night including match point.
I cannot appropriately convey in words what it's been like to live that moment twice. in 2017, it was in Kansas City at the Sprint Center less than ten days after my son was born. Let's just say it was different emotions than 2015, but no less strong.
All of that. All of the proceeding words were written to say this. The years I spent as a writer with CN were incredible. Yes, it felt burdensome from time to time when I was rushing from my own Dorchester volleyball practice to cover Husker volleyball, but I never lost track of the incredible privilege I had.
To even start to imagine that I'd get all I got from CN, even to the very last match at the Target Center in Minneapolis, I'd have told you you were crazy. I love volleyball. I love the Huskers, but to get to be part of the media contingent covering the team I've been following since 1995 was well beyond what I'd ever have imagined.
Thanks to my time at CN, I've made an unbelievable number of new friends I'd never have dreamed. CN team, thank you. Thank you for the support, the laughs, and the platform.
Any readers who've followed me here from CN, thank you. The comments on my last article were unbelievably moving. You made this humble guy from Colorado feel really, really important.
It's incredible what happens when you take a chance. Though my dad might not have done it intentionally, one of the most powerful messages I got from Gene Peteranetz was never be afraid to ask, and never be afraid to take an opportunity. CN was an unbelievable opportunity that I'll never forget and has made me a better coach and a more grateful man.
And, I should mention, that Jon Johnston is one of the kindest people I've ever had the pleasure to meet. Yes, he's obnoxious and yes, he can be a lot to handle sometimes, but he is so full of grace and kindness that I smile at every memory of the man.
Earlier I mentioned trying to maintain a semblance of professional journalism in my time with CN. I was often the subject of light ribbing about not wearing red to Husker matches. I always answered that I wanted to maintain the illusion of objectivity. The best counter I got was someone who asked who I covered, and to name the website I contributed to. I mean, that person was right, but I felt a certain obligation to CN's reputation.
Now that the Huskers have re-established themselves as a regular national contender, I hope that when the NCAA sees CN on credential apps, my contribution will help with the consideration.
I am still in awe of the things I was so fortunate to get to do as a contributor for CN. I built a following I had no idea about. I played some small part in helping people in Nebraska understand volleyball a little bit better.
I will forever be grateful for everything that was part of CN. Now that I've ended this entry, that sense of finality and loss I experienced on Sunday has returned. I will miss the people at CN, though they know how to reach me and that we've plenty of room for them here. I hope that I will get to see them again.
Since this entry is mostly about CN, I'll end it the same way I ended everyone of my CN articles.
GBR
Tuesday, December 18, 2018
It's Been Awhile
Hello follower(s). I know it's been awhile. Over five years. I was still single (though almost married) when last I updated this.
More is coming soon.
Thanks for hanging around.
T
More is coming soon.
Thanks for hanging around.
T
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Uh... OOPS!
So... it's been nearly six months since I updated. My bad! I won't go into details, because it's tedious even to me, but I've a new job, will be the head volleyball coach at Dorchester School here in Nebraska, am buying a house, am getting married, etc... ANYWAY...!
This struck me while I was driving to Kansas City for a volleyball tournament. We all have stories. Think about the stories you tell people you're meeting. Let's call them "One Uppers". They're the stories that we hope will elicit the "You're kidding me!" reaction from the crowd. They're also stories that we feel like our "friends" have to know about us. I, frankly, have a series of them: Pulling a guy out of an avalanche, The RV accident, Ireland... We all have one. However, these are the "You know that guy that..." stories. Stories that make us unique. I wanted to call this blog "Ionic Bonding" or something like that. The reason is because it's commonalities that make friendships. It's a shared experience, or similar stories.
I've noticed that the common thread most all of us share is the story that starts something like this: "I got pulled over.." Have you ever noticed that as soon as someone starts that, everyone else has a story? The exception being the stories that put people in the group from the above paragraph (holy crap, you've never been pulled over?!) It's an uncommon person who manages to get through their teenage years without getting pulled over. I was actually fortunate in that way, I didn't get pulled over until the first time until I was 18, and managed to avoid a ticket in Lafayette, which was not common. Usually, when you got pulled over in Lafayette as a Centaurus student, you got pulled over more often in Louisville, but tickets more often in Lafayette. I was lucky and naive when talking to the cop.
I have plenty of stories of getting pulled over, but the one that always sticks in my head is getting nailed in Boulder for 55 in a 40. Many of you have heard this story (I'm not deluding myself into thinking there are a lot of strangers who are reading my blog), but I still like to tell it. It happened after I'd gotten back from Savannah to visit Jay. I'd gone with Dave Harbaugh and Paula Neeman. I'd driven the entire way (27 hours driving each way) save about three hours when Paula drove. SHE got a ticket in that time, even though I'D been breaking the speed limit much more dramatically the rest of the way. As I was leaving Dave's apartment, the thought crossed my mind about how hilarious it would be if I got pulled over between Dave's apartment in Boulder and my parents' place in Lafayette. As I'm driving east on Baseline I looked down because I couldn't shake the feeling that I was driving too fast. As it turned out, I was right, so I slowed down. As I looked up, I saw a black Impala (black rims, black windows) and I knew, I KNEW it was an unmarked. Before I was to him, he had his lights on. I pulled off to the next street. Instead of pulling the stereotypical cop thing (leaning in your window, "Do you know why I pulled you over?") he walked past my window, turned back toward the street and was very casual, "How are you today?"
"Not too bad."
"Even though you have to talk to me?"
I honestly kinda chuckled, "There are worse things."
He laughed, "I supposed there are. License, registration, insurance. You were doing 55 before you slowed down there."
"Yeah, I'm on my way home from Kansas City. I've been on the interstate all day."
"You're driving the wrong way to be coming home from Kansas City."
"Yeah, I just dropped my buddy off at his apartment." (I cannot remember the name of the complex)
"I'll be back." With that, he went back to his car.
I sat and watched him in my rearview mirror. I don't know about you, but I have kinda of an internal clock. If the cop takes more than a minute, it probably means I'm getting a ticket. I started laughing when my head told me it had been a minute. I was definitely getting a ticket. He came back up to my car.
"Well, I had to write you a ticket because your car says SHO on the back." (I drove a Ford Taurus SHO. The SHO stands for Super High Output. They were sporty sedans, and he obviously knew it!)
I laughed. "That's fair!"
"However, I wrote it for 49 rather than 55. What that does is cuts the points from 8 to 4, and knocks $50 off the fine. If you choose to fight it in court, we will prosecute for the original 55."
"Officer, you don't even have to bother going to court. This will be mailed the minute I get home."
"Take care, slow down."
"Have a good one, sir."
I truly laughed a lot in that ten minutes. The whole thing was so funny, and the officer was in great spirits. I have often said that any time you are talking to a cop, you need to treat them respectfully, because you either did something wrong, or are asking for their protection. PLUS, they put themselves in danger so we can stay safe! Experience (too much experience...) has also told me that being kind and respectful the officer that pulls you over will get you out of the ticket way more often than being a d**k.
I have to close this with someone else's story. My buddy Paul, who I coached with at VCN got pulled over on our way to Des Moines and was issued a ticket for the tint on his car being too dark. However, Paul claims he was nailed for a DWB (a phrase I hadn't heard since college. Don't know what it is? Look it up on urban dictionary). I haven't laughed as hard at a story about being pulled over for a long time!
Sorry it took so long to update y'all... I'll try to be better. Thanks for reading!
This struck me while I was driving to Kansas City for a volleyball tournament. We all have stories. Think about the stories you tell people you're meeting. Let's call them "One Uppers". They're the stories that we hope will elicit the "You're kidding me!" reaction from the crowd. They're also stories that we feel like our "friends" have to know about us. I, frankly, have a series of them: Pulling a guy out of an avalanche, The RV accident, Ireland... We all have one. However, these are the "You know that guy that..." stories. Stories that make us unique. I wanted to call this blog "Ionic Bonding" or something like that. The reason is because it's commonalities that make friendships. It's a shared experience, or similar stories.
I've noticed that the common thread most all of us share is the story that starts something like this: "I got pulled over.." Have you ever noticed that as soon as someone starts that, everyone else has a story? The exception being the stories that put people in the group from the above paragraph (holy crap, you've never been pulled over?!) It's an uncommon person who manages to get through their teenage years without getting pulled over. I was actually fortunate in that way, I didn't get pulled over until the first time until I was 18, and managed to avoid a ticket in Lafayette, which was not common. Usually, when you got pulled over in Lafayette as a Centaurus student, you got pulled over more often in Louisville, but tickets more often in Lafayette. I was lucky and naive when talking to the cop.
I have plenty of stories of getting pulled over, but the one that always sticks in my head is getting nailed in Boulder for 55 in a 40. Many of you have heard this story (I'm not deluding myself into thinking there are a lot of strangers who are reading my blog), but I still like to tell it. It happened after I'd gotten back from Savannah to visit Jay. I'd gone with Dave Harbaugh and Paula Neeman. I'd driven the entire way (27 hours driving each way) save about three hours when Paula drove. SHE got a ticket in that time, even though I'D been breaking the speed limit much more dramatically the rest of the way. As I was leaving Dave's apartment, the thought crossed my mind about how hilarious it would be if I got pulled over between Dave's apartment in Boulder and my parents' place in Lafayette. As I'm driving east on Baseline I looked down because I couldn't shake the feeling that I was driving too fast. As it turned out, I was right, so I slowed down. As I looked up, I saw a black Impala (black rims, black windows) and I knew, I KNEW it was an unmarked. Before I was to him, he had his lights on. I pulled off to the next street. Instead of pulling the stereotypical cop thing (leaning in your window, "Do you know why I pulled you over?") he walked past my window, turned back toward the street and was very casual, "How are you today?"
"Not too bad."
"Even though you have to talk to me?"
I honestly kinda chuckled, "There are worse things."
He laughed, "I supposed there are. License, registration, insurance. You were doing 55 before you slowed down there."
"Yeah, I'm on my way home from Kansas City. I've been on the interstate all day."
"You're driving the wrong way to be coming home from Kansas City."
"Yeah, I just dropped my buddy off at his apartment." (I cannot remember the name of the complex)
"I'll be back." With that, he went back to his car.
I sat and watched him in my rearview mirror. I don't know about you, but I have kinda of an internal clock. If the cop takes more than a minute, it probably means I'm getting a ticket. I started laughing when my head told me it had been a minute. I was definitely getting a ticket. He came back up to my car.
"Well, I had to write you a ticket because your car says SHO on the back." (I drove a Ford Taurus SHO. The SHO stands for Super High Output. They were sporty sedans, and he obviously knew it!)
I laughed. "That's fair!"
"However, I wrote it for 49 rather than 55. What that does is cuts the points from 8 to 4, and knocks $50 off the fine. If you choose to fight it in court, we will prosecute for the original 55."
"Officer, you don't even have to bother going to court. This will be mailed the minute I get home."
"Take care, slow down."
"Have a good one, sir."
I truly laughed a lot in that ten minutes. The whole thing was so funny, and the officer was in great spirits. I have often said that any time you are talking to a cop, you need to treat them respectfully, because you either did something wrong, or are asking for their protection. PLUS, they put themselves in danger so we can stay safe! Experience (too much experience...) has also told me that being kind and respectful the officer that pulls you over will get you out of the ticket way more often than being a d**k.
I have to close this with someone else's story. My buddy Paul, who I coached with at VCN got pulled over on our way to Des Moines and was issued a ticket for the tint on his car being too dark. However, Paul claims he was nailed for a DWB (a phrase I hadn't heard since college. Don't know what it is? Look it up on urban dictionary). I haven't laughed as hard at a story about being pulled over for a long time!
Sorry it took so long to update y'all... I'll try to be better. Thanks for reading!
Friday, December 14, 2012
Fight Cowardice with Courage
Naturally, the events in Newtown, Connecticut have loosed a torrent of emotions in the media and the social media-sphere. I'm not here to address those specifically. I am only here to share my thoughts personally. Some of them were, admittedly, sparked by reactions on my FB and Twitter. I am not intending to offend anyone, but I'm also not going to censor my thoughts when it comes to the senseless, heartbreaking shooting.
First, I am beyond heartbroken. Every time I get to thinking about those parents who have to deal with this at what should be such a joyous time when you have elementary age kids, I damn near cry. Columbine was devastating. This is beyond anything I've ever imagined. It's also more profoundly affected me than I thought it would. Any loss of life is tragic in a situation like this (the Oregon mall shooting earlier this week, for example), but I have a soft spot for kids of any age, especially elementary school.
It is not my place to speculate about the wheres or whys of the shooter's mental health. If the Columbine Tragedy in 1999 taught us anything, it's that there are people out there who aren't right, and we may never know that. This shooter may have never given any indication of mental illness, and may, in fact, have never been diagnosed had he seen a therapist. He also may have not have any detectable mental illness and made a conscious, pre-meditated decision. Either way, it is not my place, nor anyone else's who does not know him (them?) to speculate.
It seems whenever this type of event occurs, the discussion about guns comes out. I wish this conversation could happen when it's not so emotionally charged, but events in the second half of this year have shown us that a real discussion needs to be had on the issue. I am in favor and support of the Second Amendment. I am not well enough versed to speak to the accessibility of "black market" arms, but I also don't understand why the average person has any need to possess an assault rifle type of weapon. I intend to own firearms one day (soon, but that has nothing to do with recent events, I have just always wanted to be proficient with a handgun and have it just in case), but only for the protection of my family. An assault rifle seems unnecessary for that. It also seems unnecessary for hunting.
Teachers should not carry firearms in the classroom. Period. I understand the debate here, but I've been fortunate enough to be blessed with this career, and I will protect these kiddos at the cost of my own life if need be. However, I don't EVER want to have another person's death on my head. I also don't have the training or capacity to make that call about whether or not another person's life should be ended. I have many great friends who are police officers and military personnel, or have been one of them, and they are trained for making that call. I am not. I don't want to be. I will do everything in my power to protect the life of the people in my building, but taking the life of another is not in my power, nor do I want it to be.
This is the hardest truth in all of this to me: 20 elementary school students lost their lives at school today. 20 years ago, we never would have imagined security guards and metal detectors in schools. The School Resource Officer was reserved for high schools, and was a borderline figurehead there, giving anti-drug speeches and helping students who'd locked themselves out of their cars. Now even teachers have to know how to respond to this type of crisis. My prayers, my fervent prayers, go to those people whose whole lives were flipped upside down in Connecticut today.
Finally, we have to fight cowardice with courage. As FDR said, "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself." Being afraid allows us to be victims. It's what the bullies feed off of. We cannot be afraid to bring new life into this world. We cannot be afraid to send them to school. It's a scary place, but we can change that by bringing children into homes full of love, encouragement, and strength and instilling them with those values as they go into their interactions in the world. We've gradually become afraid. We're afraid of offending, afraid of overstepping our bounds, afraid of being seen as different from the status quo. What if we courageously espoused our values without judging others whose values are different? What if we stood by what we believe in, but with an open mind so as to appreciate and learn from others? What if we went out feeling empowered and courageous, instead of timid and frightened?
First, I am beyond heartbroken. Every time I get to thinking about those parents who have to deal with this at what should be such a joyous time when you have elementary age kids, I damn near cry. Columbine was devastating. This is beyond anything I've ever imagined. It's also more profoundly affected me than I thought it would. Any loss of life is tragic in a situation like this (the Oregon mall shooting earlier this week, for example), but I have a soft spot for kids of any age, especially elementary school.
It is not my place to speculate about the wheres or whys of the shooter's mental health. If the Columbine Tragedy in 1999 taught us anything, it's that there are people out there who aren't right, and we may never know that. This shooter may have never given any indication of mental illness, and may, in fact, have never been diagnosed had he seen a therapist. He also may have not have any detectable mental illness and made a conscious, pre-meditated decision. Either way, it is not my place, nor anyone else's who does not know him (them?) to speculate.
It seems whenever this type of event occurs, the discussion about guns comes out. I wish this conversation could happen when it's not so emotionally charged, but events in the second half of this year have shown us that a real discussion needs to be had on the issue. I am in favor and support of the Second Amendment. I am not well enough versed to speak to the accessibility of "black market" arms, but I also don't understand why the average person has any need to possess an assault rifle type of weapon. I intend to own firearms one day (soon, but that has nothing to do with recent events, I have just always wanted to be proficient with a handgun and have it just in case), but only for the protection of my family. An assault rifle seems unnecessary for that. It also seems unnecessary for hunting.
Teachers should not carry firearms in the classroom. Period. I understand the debate here, but I've been fortunate enough to be blessed with this career, and I will protect these kiddos at the cost of my own life if need be. However, I don't EVER want to have another person's death on my head. I also don't have the training or capacity to make that call about whether or not another person's life should be ended. I have many great friends who are police officers and military personnel, or have been one of them, and they are trained for making that call. I am not. I don't want to be. I will do everything in my power to protect the life of the people in my building, but taking the life of another is not in my power, nor do I want it to be.
This is the hardest truth in all of this to me: 20 elementary school students lost their lives at school today. 20 years ago, we never would have imagined security guards and metal detectors in schools. The School Resource Officer was reserved for high schools, and was a borderline figurehead there, giving anti-drug speeches and helping students who'd locked themselves out of their cars. Now even teachers have to know how to respond to this type of crisis. My prayers, my fervent prayers, go to those people whose whole lives were flipped upside down in Connecticut today.
Finally, we have to fight cowardice with courage. As FDR said, "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself." Being afraid allows us to be victims. It's what the bullies feed off of. We cannot be afraid to bring new life into this world. We cannot be afraid to send them to school. It's a scary place, but we can change that by bringing children into homes full of love, encouragement, and strength and instilling them with those values as they go into their interactions in the world. We've gradually become afraid. We're afraid of offending, afraid of overstepping our bounds, afraid of being seen as different from the status quo. What if we courageously espoused our values without judging others whose values are different? What if we stood by what we believe in, but with an open mind so as to appreciate and learn from others? What if we went out feeling empowered and courageous, instead of timid and frightened?
Monday, November 12, 2012
The Games We Play
I got to thinking the other day about the silly games and rules we had growing up. I got to thinking about this because I was on my way home from (random) drive thru and almost dibsed the bag fries. To no one. I was alone in the car and immediately reverted to being the driver in high school. The... inconvenience..? of driving led to us creating the rule that the driver got the bag fries. I was in college before I realised that not everyone followed the same rules we did in high school. We also made up countless games. Those rules/games included:
Shotgun rules
You had to be within sight of the car before you called shotgun, otherwise it was null and void. Also, you could call seniority once a day if you were older (time in the friendship didn't matter) than the person who'd called shotgun. Unless that person was RJ in my car, or me in RJ's car. We had permagun. In fact, I still outrank his wife, and he my fiance. Yeap, we've CERTAINLY grown since high school. Also, I still get gun in RJ's car. No matter what.
Music rules
The driver picks the music. Period. This one led to controversy on more than one occasion if people's musical tastes were too different.
Don't Hit the Blue Pipe
This only came up once. We were taking Ben Vinson home. Along 111th north of Arapahoe in Lafayette, it was dirt at the time, and they were laying pipe to run water up toward the new developments going in near Erie. I had a sporty car. Wait, no, I drove a Buick Park Avenue, but it was a dirt road, and I knew how to get a little bit sideways with it. As we're approaching 70 mph, I start swerving, hoping to get the rear end a little loose. Well, I did. We had joked earlier in the drive that the only rule was to not hit the blue pipe. Welp, as I am CLEARLY out of control at 70 mph, Ben screams, "DON'T HIT THE BLUE PIPE!" You'll be happy to know I didn't. I got the car stuck in the ditch on the other side of the road. I thought for sure I was dead (at my dad's hand in the near future). Next car over the hill? Chevy 1-ton with a chain. Pulled me right out. I told mom and dad 10 years ago.
Woogie Ball/Wet and Wild Woogie Baseball
Let's be honest, RJ, Jay, Brian, and I are guilty for most of these stories and games, but that's what lifelong friendships are made of! I cannot tell you the entire origin story (RJ, B, Jay, please fill my readers in in the comments section) in it's entirety, but I know the necessary components are a tee ball bat and a kickball. Oh, and three-four players. Without too much detail (as I don't want this to get too long) the batter gets ten contacts. They have to be solid (forward or a catchable foul). If it flies over the fence, it's two runs. If it bounces, one run. The outfielder(s) can do anything in their power to prevent the ball from going over the fence. It was perfect because we only needed three total people to play! The game was so named because when you hit a kickball with a tee ball bat, it shudders in and out (woobie-woobie-woobie), but woobieball is too damn hard to say, thus woogie. One summer day, we were bored with slip and slide, and it was too hot for woogie. Suddenly, a wild idea appeared to our heads. Wet and wild woogie baseball. All the joy of woogieball (Same basic rules) combined with baseball's rules. The special rule is that you HAD to slide from third to home on the slip and slide. And kickball rules were in effect, in that you could throw the ball at the runner, not just tag them. It led to too many times where you'd be sliding, helpless, as a dead eye from the neighbor's yard throwing you out because you can't stop yourself terribly effectively on a slip and slide.
Party Rules
Before Hixson, Trevor and I went drinking, we had to do a double shot of Bacardi 151. Death. Awesome, vomitorious death.
Yellow Lights
If you were going through a yellow light, you had to kiss your hand, and tap the visor/ceiling of the car.
Padiddle
If you saw a car with a headlight out, you had to yell PADIDDLE! Everyone else had to yell SEX! The last person had to remove an article of clothing. Yeah, this never happened when I was in the car. I heard rumors, though.
Seat Pirate Rules
Whenever you leave the room, you have to dibs the seat or it's up for grabs. However, you can pirate the seat whilst yelling "Yar!" If the yar is not correctly timed, then you have to give up the seat.
Girls, I have to ask a question. Almost everything I got from girls was "When you picked a (boy, celebrity, TV character, etc) none of your friends were allowed to pick that. I thoroughly believe that grudges are still held from this rule being violated. Guys, as soon as a girl showed interest, the others had to lament, but there was no "calling" the girl. This led to some... we'll call them awkward moments the summer of 2001 thanks to Jungle Joe and I. SORRY DAVE! We also had no rules regarding who we could have celebrity crushes on. If a couple of guys had a crush on the same girl, the discussion was more the things we'd do to her, not the beginning of a grudge.
From the days before cable TV and a TV in every room: If you wanted to watch your show, you had to dibs the show and the TV as soon as you came into the room. This is courtesy of Elise Graninger.
I have heard some of the most amazing quotes of late.
"I can star in a porn, but I can't get my wife pregnant." -I will keep this one anonymous.
"Yeah, I used to have stuff, too." -My future father-in-law as he was helping with my move
"What are the Mayans up to right now, anyway?"
"Stealing American jobs, right?" -My co-worker and I (sarcasm, please) talking about the prediction of the end of the world.
"Shningles."
Anyway. Any more stories about childhood debauchery/games/rules? Add them in the comments section or on FB. As always, thanks for reading!
Also, we will be in Colorado Thanksgiving - the Sunday after. Not making promises, but would like to see lots of people.
Shotgun rules
You had to be within sight of the car before you called shotgun, otherwise it was null and void. Also, you could call seniority once a day if you were older (time in the friendship didn't matter) than the person who'd called shotgun. Unless that person was RJ in my car, or me in RJ's car. We had permagun. In fact, I still outrank his wife, and he my fiance. Yeap, we've CERTAINLY grown since high school. Also, I still get gun in RJ's car. No matter what.
Music rules
The driver picks the music. Period. This one led to controversy on more than one occasion if people's musical tastes were too different.
Don't Hit the Blue Pipe
This only came up once. We were taking Ben Vinson home. Along 111th north of Arapahoe in Lafayette, it was dirt at the time, and they were laying pipe to run water up toward the new developments going in near Erie. I had a sporty car. Wait, no, I drove a Buick Park Avenue, but it was a dirt road, and I knew how to get a little bit sideways with it. As we're approaching 70 mph, I start swerving, hoping to get the rear end a little loose. Well, I did. We had joked earlier in the drive that the only rule was to not hit the blue pipe. Welp, as I am CLEARLY out of control at 70 mph, Ben screams, "DON'T HIT THE BLUE PIPE!" You'll be happy to know I didn't. I got the car stuck in the ditch on the other side of the road. I thought for sure I was dead (at my dad's hand in the near future). Next car over the hill? Chevy 1-ton with a chain. Pulled me right out. I told mom and dad 10 years ago.
Woogie Ball/Wet and Wild Woogie Baseball
Let's be honest, RJ, Jay, Brian, and I are guilty for most of these stories and games, but that's what lifelong friendships are made of! I cannot tell you the entire origin story (RJ, B, Jay, please fill my readers in in the comments section) in it's entirety, but I know the necessary components are a tee ball bat and a kickball. Oh, and three-four players. Without too much detail (as I don't want this to get too long) the batter gets ten contacts. They have to be solid (forward or a catchable foul). If it flies over the fence, it's two runs. If it bounces, one run. The outfielder(s) can do anything in their power to prevent the ball from going over the fence. It was perfect because we only needed three total people to play! The game was so named because when you hit a kickball with a tee ball bat, it shudders in and out (woobie-woobie-woobie), but woobieball is too damn hard to say, thus woogie. One summer day, we were bored with slip and slide, and it was too hot for woogie. Suddenly, a wild idea appeared to our heads. Wet and wild woogie baseball. All the joy of woogieball (Same basic rules) combined with baseball's rules. The special rule is that you HAD to slide from third to home on the slip and slide. And kickball rules were in effect, in that you could throw the ball at the runner, not just tag them. It led to too many times where you'd be sliding, helpless, as a dead eye from the neighbor's yard throwing you out because you can't stop yourself terribly effectively on a slip and slide.
Party Rules
Before Hixson, Trevor and I went drinking, we had to do a double shot of Bacardi 151. Death. Awesome, vomitorious death.
Yellow Lights
If you were going through a yellow light, you had to kiss your hand, and tap the visor/ceiling of the car.
Padiddle
If you saw a car with a headlight out, you had to yell PADIDDLE! Everyone else had to yell SEX! The last person had to remove an article of clothing. Yeah, this never happened when I was in the car. I heard rumors, though.
Seat Pirate Rules
Whenever you leave the room, you have to dibs the seat or it's up for grabs. However, you can pirate the seat whilst yelling "Yar!" If the yar is not correctly timed, then you have to give up the seat.
Girls, I have to ask a question. Almost everything I got from girls was "When you picked a (boy, celebrity, TV character, etc) none of your friends were allowed to pick that. I thoroughly believe that grudges are still held from this rule being violated. Guys, as soon as a girl showed interest, the others had to lament, but there was no "calling" the girl. This led to some... we'll call them awkward moments the summer of 2001 thanks to Jungle Joe and I. SORRY DAVE! We also had no rules regarding who we could have celebrity crushes on. If a couple of guys had a crush on the same girl, the discussion was more the things we'd do to her, not the beginning of a grudge.
From the days before cable TV and a TV in every room: If you wanted to watch your show, you had to dibs the show and the TV as soon as you came into the room. This is courtesy of Elise Graninger.
I have heard some of the most amazing quotes of late.
"I can star in a porn, but I can't get my wife pregnant." -I will keep this one anonymous.
"Yeah, I used to have stuff, too." -My future father-in-law as he was helping with my move
"What are the Mayans up to right now, anyway?"
"Stealing American jobs, right?" -My co-worker and I (sarcasm, please) talking about the prediction of the end of the world.
"Shningles."
Anyway. Any more stories about childhood debauchery/games/rules? Add them in the comments section or on FB. As always, thanks for reading!
Also, we will be in Colorado Thanksgiving - the Sunday after. Not making promises, but would like to see lots of people.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Final Election Thoughts
I had NO intention of writing a blog on the elections, but I posted a status this morning, and it was FB status length, and I need to clarify and hopefully undo the way I may have offended some people. I am not, however, backing down off of what I said earlier.
As the election went on, and this morning, some of my FB friends threatened to leave the country for Canada and/or London if their chosen candidate (usually Romney) lost the election. To those people I said this morning, and I say again, good bye and (frankly) good riddance. I'm sorry if this offends you, and I'll explain myself more later, but let that simmer.
That statement was not, however, directed at all, or exclusively, conservative voters. No, only those people who are threatening to move elsewhere strictly because of an election. I'll back that up again in a minute, too, but I have friends of all different leanings, and they're my friends because they believe what they believe, passionately, and are willing to back it up and fight for what they believe. I love all of my conservative friends who stand for their beliefs as much as I love my liberal, moderate, etc. friends. I did not call anyone anything besides selfish this morning, and that was only to a very small sect of people whose statuses on FB this morning (and in previous weeks) threatened to leave the country just because of the results of the election. I also have a sneaky feeling that you'd be hugely disappointed when you landed in these foreign countries and discover that they are even more liberal than our current administration.
Now, here's why that fires me up so. That is not an American idea, in my opinion. We fought for this country in the latter part of the 18th century. Excuse me, our forefathers fought for this country. Don't bother me with nitpicky BS about why people originally settled here. That doesn't change the fact that Washington, Jefferson, Adams, Hancock, etc, fought against all odds to claim our independence from Great Britain. If we're truly to honor our predecessors, then we shan't run off to another country because things didn't go our way. We'd stay behind and fight (in a much more 21st century way) for what we believe in. Make things "right" here. Even if you can't change people's minds, change their lives. Do good. Stand up for what you believe. My candidate didn't win, but I still love my country. Like I said this morning, if you're going to leave, your patriotism is showing, and it's broken. Patriots stay and fight. Patriots will be honored on Sunday and Monday during Veteran's Day.
I did not call anyone an idiot or question anyone's intelligence this morning. I am not saying I didn't mean to (I didn't mean to), I'm saying that I didn't. You allowed yourself to be offended if I offended you, and I'll stick by that. I offended people who aren't courageous enough to fight for what they believe.
As the election went on, and this morning, some of my FB friends threatened to leave the country for Canada and/or London if their chosen candidate (usually Romney) lost the election. To those people I said this morning, and I say again, good bye and (frankly) good riddance. I'm sorry if this offends you, and I'll explain myself more later, but let that simmer.
That statement was not, however, directed at all, or exclusively, conservative voters. No, only those people who are threatening to move elsewhere strictly because of an election. I'll back that up again in a minute, too, but I have friends of all different leanings, and they're my friends because they believe what they believe, passionately, and are willing to back it up and fight for what they believe. I love all of my conservative friends who stand for their beliefs as much as I love my liberal, moderate, etc. friends. I did not call anyone anything besides selfish this morning, and that was only to a very small sect of people whose statuses on FB this morning (and in previous weeks) threatened to leave the country just because of the results of the election. I also have a sneaky feeling that you'd be hugely disappointed when you landed in these foreign countries and discover that they are even more liberal than our current administration.
Now, here's why that fires me up so. That is not an American idea, in my opinion. We fought for this country in the latter part of the 18th century. Excuse me, our forefathers fought for this country. Don't bother me with nitpicky BS about why people originally settled here. That doesn't change the fact that Washington, Jefferson, Adams, Hancock, etc, fought against all odds to claim our independence from Great Britain. If we're truly to honor our predecessors, then we shan't run off to another country because things didn't go our way. We'd stay behind and fight (in a much more 21st century way) for what we believe in. Make things "right" here. Even if you can't change people's minds, change their lives. Do good. Stand up for what you believe. My candidate didn't win, but I still love my country. Like I said this morning, if you're going to leave, your patriotism is showing, and it's broken. Patriots stay and fight. Patriots will be honored on Sunday and Monday during Veteran's Day.
I did not call anyone an idiot or question anyone's intelligence this morning. I am not saying I didn't mean to (I didn't mean to), I'm saying that I didn't. You allowed yourself to be offended if I offended you, and I'll stick by that. I offended people who aren't courageous enough to fight for what they believe.
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