Month: May 2014

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Six For Saturday

1) So many people are out and about on Saturdays in the spring, and it’s interesting to see. Like today, for instance, even though it was a little breezy, the neighborhood was out in full force, with garage sales up and down the block, and the local businesses having open houses. It’s always nice to … Continue reading Six For Saturday

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Identifying the Cow

cowMy youngest daughter has Down syndrome, and she struggles with identifying words, so after consulting with her teacher, and with her speech therapist, and after reading the developmental books, my wife decided to come up with activities geared towards helping her recognize and repeat simple words she should know by now. It’s amazing to me how much she does know, actually, so this afternoon I ran through the exercise with her to see her level.

The sheet is all about animals. In fact, my wife laminated it for sustainability (and she can use it as a placemat too if needed), and made move able cards to place over top of the sheet as well. On the sheet are photographs of six animals. There’s a dog, a cat, a duck, a pig, a horse, and of course the infamous cow. My job was to point to the animal’s picture and Maddie would tell me which animal it was. She identified all of them this way except for the cow. She called it a dog, refusing to accept it’s true name, which had me truly baffled.

So I tried a different tactic. I asked her what noise did that animal make, and she said “moo,” so it was clear she realized it wasn’t a dog. But why was she saying dog? So I went back after she said “moo” and asked her again the name of the animal. This time she promptly said cow. Perhaps it was just that triggering of the animal sound that made the difference. Cows do indeed say “moo.”

Then we moved on to the back of the cards that held the spelled out names of each animal, something that has long been her Achilles heel. She can generally recognize the individual letters but placing them together in words confuses her. That’s why she spent the better part of five minutes arguing with me that the one that said “cat” was in fact the one that said “cow.” She saw the “c” and didn’t look any further, which became frustrating for her and for me. Continue reading “Identifying the Cow”

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Checked Out: Week 18

As usual, this week I dropped in on a library and grabbed a few books, some of which I won’t even read, but it’s fun to pick them up. I’ve been reading on my Nook again, too, which has been kind of fun. It had been some time since I had even picked it up, … Continue reading Checked Out: Week 18

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The Ones Who Talk

thYou know “that guy?” He’s the one in the movie theater who can’t stop himself from yelling at the characters on screen as if they’re friends of his who are making a mistake. The one on the bus staring at his iPhone, whispering to it like it’s an old friend who’s done him wrong. “No!” he says as the screen goes blank for no good reason. He’s the guy who interrupts every conversation that goes longer than one exchange because he “just has to” interject something that is of a life-and-death importance. Yeah, I used to be that guy.

It all started with books, innocently enough. I was probably five or six and reading was what I lived for. Of course we didn’t have that many age-appropriate books at home, so I would read through the ones we had multiple times, like they were going out of style. The characters in those books became really good friends of mine, so I would begin imparting knowledge to them over the course of the book. “Don’t open that door!” I would say, knowing that behind the door was nothing good.

Then it moved on to movies. I’ll never forget the first time I saw Back to the Future and I kept telling Marty, “Your plan’s not going to work!” but he just wouldn’t listen. Luckily for him, even though his plan didn’t work, everything still came together in the end. If he had only listened to me it would have been a lot easier, though. And when the one scientist said, “They’re all engineered to be female,” in Jurassic Park, I yelled at the screen, “Hell no. They’re smarter than your science!” Look who was right.

But not everyone saw it the same way I did. In particular my sister would tell me to “pipe down” when I would get out of control responding to things that really were just one-way communicators. She would pound on my door while I was narrating my baseball games, and when I was proposing to Samantha Micelli (I guess I was loud) and tell me to knock it off. Apparently “nobody” wanted to listen to me profess my love for a fictional character. Of course, though, that didn’t stop me. Continue reading “The Ones Who Talk”

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Knowing When

“Know when to give up, and when to keep forging on.” People used to always tell me, usually on the heels of some grievous defeat, that things will look up, that if I keep working hard the world would reward me. But that’s not true, is it? There are so many people out there trying … Continue reading Knowing When

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Firefly Lights

police-lights-backgrounds-for-powerpointThe lights are obvious, their staccato rhythm mesmerizing against the gloomy backdrop of the highway at night. But they are alone, with no siren to punctuate the otherwise still air, as the old car eases to the side of the road. Steam rises from the car’s exhaust pipe, disappearing into the dark sky as it climbs. Sliding into place a moment later, a police cruiser blocks out the view of the old car as it sits idling on the shoulder, like an old lover tossed aside.

A man emerges into the shadow cast by the blinking lights. He gazes for a brief while at the passing traffic, at all the cars that ease across the lane line in the opposite direction, their drivers splitting their focus between the lights and their own destinations. It’s easy for him to forget the past when the present is so immediate, so sensitive. His cruiser purrs at his back, bringing him back to the moment, and the reason why he stopped in the first place. He approaches the old car, his long stride getting him to the driver’s door in four steps.

The man in the old car sits ramrod straight, but his back is crooked so it hurts him to no end to assume such a position. He just knows it’s expected of solid citizens, something he is not, but something he wants to portray to the officer who is approaching his vehicle. He checks out his eyes in the rearview mirror, and they sparkle with a pent-up mischief that might just be his undoing on this starless night, on a road he’s never been on before, in a county that detests his kind.

He has long, greasy hair that hangs limp past his shoulders, in the fashion he has always preferred, even after the lice were found to have infested that same hair some months back. In fact, he still itches from time to time, what he perceives as a ghost itch but what is in fact still lice doing spring cleaning in the nest on top of his head. There are beer bottles scattered across the back seat of his car, something he can do nothing about. At least it’s not light beer, he thinks, strangely proud of his manly attitude in the face of difficult questions to come. Continue reading “Firefly Lights”