School starts late in Minnesota - by law the kids can't go back until after Labor Day. I have heard this is because the resort owners have a powerful lobby and want Minnesota families to go on one last revenue-producing summer vacation. I don't know if that's true or not. Seems a little far-fetched.
Anyway, my job with the Minnesota Reading Corps has already started, so, until the kids return to school, I am basically doing odd jobs to get my required hours. Today I was out in front of my school, Madison Elementary, repainting the (District) "742 - for you!" sign on the sidewalk. It wasn't a bad odd job to be assigned to. The weather was beautiful, and there's a certain satisfaction I get from jobs like painting, where you can see tangible progress.
As I was sitting on the concrete, painting, a young boy rode up on his bicycle. For confidentiality reasons, I can't give his name, but he said he was a fourth-grader at Madison. I introduced myself and we got to talking for awhile about the painting I was doing and the reading instruction I'll be doing once school starts. It wasn't long before he asked that question I'm always half-expecting when I meet someone new: "What happened to your hands?"
This question, as it pertains to the new job, has me a little anxious. I will soon be meeting hundreds of elementary school kids, about 20 of whom I will work with on a daily basis. I know I look a little different and sometimes I wonder how they will react to me. Will they be scared? Will they not want to be around me? It's a little irrational, I know, but I worry about these things sometimes.
So, having thought about what I would say ahead of time, I told this kid on the bike that a long time ago I got sick and the doctor had to take some of my fingers and toes off so that I would get better. But I was fine now and, even though I looked a little bit different, I could do pretty much everything I used to do.
The boy, of course, had some questions. "What sickness did you get?" (Meningitis, but you don't have to worry about getting it because there's a shot that you can get when you turn 11 that will protect you). "Did it hurt when the doctor took off your fingers and toes?" (Yes, it hurt, but they gave me medicine to take most of the pain away). "Could you still drive a car?" (Yes, I actually drive better now because I can't talk on the phone and drink a 40-ounce pop at the same time. I have to focus more on the road).
I told him again that I could do pretty much everything I used to, it just took me some time to figure out how to do it again. I had to try and try and keep practicing until I got it right. And he said, "Kinda like when I was learning to ride my bike," which I thought was a pretty smart analogy for a fourth-grader.
After that there was a lull in the conversation. I kept painting and he just watched for awhile. Then, out of the blue, the boy broke the silence by saying, "You know, it's kinda cool to see somebody without any fingers working so hard."
Talk about your all-time nicest things to say. As far as I could tell, what he was saying was, "I am inspired by the fact that you don't let your disability keep you from being productive." That is probably one of the best compliments I have ever received, and I'm sure this boy didn't have any idea his words could make that kind of impact. I walked around with a big, goofy grin on my face the rest of the day. I think I'm going to like working with kids.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Who's No. 2?
'Tis the season of fantasy football drafts, and an intriguing question will be answered in the opening minutes of every draft going on in every corner of the country. Not "Who's going to be the first pick?" Barring a preseason injury (GASP, knock on wood repeatedly) Adrian Peterson will be taken first In about 95 percent of drafts — not just in leagues full of unabashed Vikings homers. The really interesting question is "Who should be the No. 2 pick?"
It looks like an agonizing decision, which makes it all the more likely I will be picking second.
Yahoo Sports has Michael Turner ranked No. 2 overall, which is a trendy choice. But I'm not sold. Turner has had just one year as a starter and, though it was a great year, there were some red flags. He was wildly inconsistent, going for 42 yards against the Buccaneers in Week 2 but 152 yards against them in Week 15 and 56 yards against the Panthers in Week 4 but 117 yards and 4 TDs against them in Week 12. Peterson was "Plug-and-play" from Day 1. Turner was "Feast-or-famine."
The conventional wisdom is that you should generally take a RB with the No. 2 pick. But if Tom Brady is healthy and can put up numbers like he did two years ago, he's a very enticing option. Those are big "ifs" though, especially when you're essentially betting your season on them. Yahoo has Brady ranked below guys like Frank Gore, Steven Jackson and Chris Johnson, which I think is a bit of a stretch, but it would also be a stretch to take Brady at No. 2. Peyton Manning or Drew Brees would be safer QB picks but they're both likely be off the board by the end of the second round.
Larry Fitzgerald is coming off the best postseason known to man. It would be easy to pull the trigger on him at No. 2, especially if you like players from Minnesota. But he's no longer working in the offensive schemes of Todd Haley and his quarterback, Kurt Warner, is getting old and has to hit the wall someday.
So No. 2 should probably be a running back. But who? Maurice Jones-Drew (only topped 100 yards twice last year), Matt Forte (still relatively unproven), Brian Westbrook (a walking disabled list) or DeAngelo Williams (can't possibly hog as many Carolina TDs as he did last year)? As far as I can tell there's no sure thing. My advice to whoever gets the No. 2 pick? Trade down.
It looks like an agonizing decision, which makes it all the more likely I will be picking second.
Yahoo Sports has Michael Turner ranked No. 2 overall, which is a trendy choice. But I'm not sold. Turner has had just one year as a starter and, though it was a great year, there were some red flags. He was wildly inconsistent, going for 42 yards against the Buccaneers in Week 2 but 152 yards against them in Week 15 and 56 yards against the Panthers in Week 4 but 117 yards and 4 TDs against them in Week 12. Peterson was "Plug-and-play" from Day 1. Turner was "Feast-or-famine."
The conventional wisdom is that you should generally take a RB with the No. 2 pick. But if Tom Brady is healthy and can put up numbers like he did two years ago, he's a very enticing option. Those are big "ifs" though, especially when you're essentially betting your season on them. Yahoo has Brady ranked below guys like Frank Gore, Steven Jackson and Chris Johnson, which I think is a bit of a stretch, but it would also be a stretch to take Brady at No. 2. Peyton Manning or Drew Brees would be safer QB picks but they're both likely be off the board by the end of the second round.
Larry Fitzgerald is coming off the best postseason known to man. It would be easy to pull the trigger on him at No. 2, especially if you like players from Minnesota. But he's no longer working in the offensive schemes of Todd Haley and his quarterback, Kurt Warner, is getting old and has to hit the wall someday.
So No. 2 should probably be a running back. But who? Maurice Jones-Drew (only topped 100 yards twice last year), Matt Forte (still relatively unproven), Brian Westbrook (a walking disabled list) or DeAngelo Williams (can't possibly hog as many Carolina TDs as he did last year)? As far as I can tell there's no sure thing. My advice to whoever gets the No. 2 pick? Trade down.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
The death of the Dome
On Saturday I attended what may well be my last Twins game at the Metrodome. For as long as I have been alive the Teflon-covered circle has been the "home of the Twins," but next year they will start playing outdoors at Target Field.
The Dome certainly has its drawbacks. After several decades without a good scrubbing, the ceiling is a dirty gray that is not exactly as romantic as looking at an unobstructed starry night sky. There are a lot of outfield seats that are about as far from home plate as St. Paul (though that doesn't stop inebriated fans from yelling, "C'mon, that was right down the middle," when they disagree with the umpire who looks a little like an amorphous black or light blue blob from that distance). The artificial turf causes almost cartoonish bounces that turn slap-hitters into Tony Gwynn, which was probably not what baseball's founders had in mind.
But there's a lot of things I'll miss about the Dome, too, beyond just the obvious "no rain-outs and always 75 degrees with low humidity" selling points:
1. It's always been affordable — One of the nice things about watching baseball in a football stadium is that there's a lot of seats, even if some don't provide the most desirable view (see paragraph 2). That means high supply and low demand and reasonable prices. When I was a little kid going to my first games, my parents were able to get tickets in the cheap seats for $3, which won't get you into a Little League game now. During high school and college we could get in for a paltry $5 once a week on "Student ID Night." Hmm, buy an extra value meal or go to a Twins game? Not a hard choice. Even this past Saturday, at 28 years old and with no special discounts, Tim and I were able to get in for a very reasonable $10 each. My guess is those prices will no longer be around once Target Field opens.
2. It's a cool place to hang out — The Dome was always a great place to gather with friends, especially before we were 21. The low prices meant we could all afford to hang out, socialize and sometimes even watch a little baseball in a parent-free environment. It was a good place to meet girls, although lately all the girls there are in love with Joe Mauer, which is hard to compete with.
3. It never sold out (figuratively. In terms of selling all the seats, that occasionally happened) — The Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome is named after a Minnesota luminary. Target Field is named after a Minnesota corporation. But maybe we should just be glad that Target outbid Tampax.
4. It's a great home-field advantage — The Twins were able overcome a lot of bigger market teams with high-priced sluggers over the years by using speed and their wacky turf to turn slap-hitters like Greg Gagne and Nick Punto into serviceable starters. And there was something hilarious and exhilarating about watching grown men on opposing teams throw up their hands in confusion and frustration when they lost fly balls in the dingy roof, only to have them drop a few feet away.
5. It has history — The Twins won two World Series under that filthy old dome. Frank "Sweet Music" Viola mowed down hitters there. Juan Berenguer "boogied" there. Kent Hrbek drilled towering homeruns there. Jeff Reardon and Rick Aguilera pitched electric ninth innings there. Torii Hunter made countless impossible sliding, leaping, sprawling, diving catches there. Kirby Puckett hit a walk-off homerun to force a World Series Game 7 there in 1991 — probably the most famous at-bat in Twins history. That's a hard act for Target Field to follow. Here's hoping it at least comes close.
The Dome certainly has its drawbacks. After several decades without a good scrubbing, the ceiling is a dirty gray that is not exactly as romantic as looking at an unobstructed starry night sky. There are a lot of outfield seats that are about as far from home plate as St. Paul (though that doesn't stop inebriated fans from yelling, "C'mon, that was right down the middle," when they disagree with the umpire who looks a little like an amorphous black or light blue blob from that distance). The artificial turf causes almost cartoonish bounces that turn slap-hitters into Tony Gwynn, which was probably not what baseball's founders had in mind.
But there's a lot of things I'll miss about the Dome, too, beyond just the obvious "no rain-outs and always 75 degrees with low humidity" selling points:
1. It's always been affordable — One of the nice things about watching baseball in a football stadium is that there's a lot of seats, even if some don't provide the most desirable view (see paragraph 2). That means high supply and low demand and reasonable prices. When I was a little kid going to my first games, my parents were able to get tickets in the cheap seats for $3, which won't get you into a Little League game now. During high school and college we could get in for a paltry $5 once a week on "Student ID Night." Hmm, buy an extra value meal or go to a Twins game? Not a hard choice. Even this past Saturday, at 28 years old and with no special discounts, Tim and I were able to get in for a very reasonable $10 each. My guess is those prices will no longer be around once Target Field opens.
2. It's a cool place to hang out — The Dome was always a great place to gather with friends, especially before we were 21. The low prices meant we could all afford to hang out, socialize and sometimes even watch a little baseball in a parent-free environment. It was a good place to meet girls, although lately all the girls there are in love with Joe Mauer, which is hard to compete with.
3. It never sold out (figuratively. In terms of selling all the seats, that occasionally happened) — The Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome is named after a Minnesota luminary. Target Field is named after a Minnesota corporation. But maybe we should just be glad that Target outbid Tampax.
4. It's a great home-field advantage — The Twins were able overcome a lot of bigger market teams with high-priced sluggers over the years by using speed and their wacky turf to turn slap-hitters like Greg Gagne and Nick Punto into serviceable starters. And there was something hilarious and exhilarating about watching grown men on opposing teams throw up their hands in confusion and frustration when they lost fly balls in the dingy roof, only to have them drop a few feet away.
5. It has history — The Twins won two World Series under that filthy old dome. Frank "Sweet Music" Viola mowed down hitters there. Juan Berenguer "boogied" there. Kent Hrbek drilled towering homeruns there. Jeff Reardon and Rick Aguilera pitched electric ninth innings there. Torii Hunter made countless impossible sliding, leaping, sprawling, diving catches there. Kirby Puckett hit a walk-off homerun to force a World Series Game 7 there in 1991 — probably the most famous at-bat in Twins history. That's a hard act for Target Field to follow. Here's hoping it at least comes close.
Friday, August 14, 2009
A second chance
Michael Vick is back in the NFL. Wow, that was fast.
When Vick signed with the Philadelphia Eagles on Thursday I have to say I was surprised. He's a dynamic, unique player, so I figured someone would sign him eventually, but I thought it would take a little more time (and perhaps a few more injuries to prominent QBs) for a team to decide he was worth the P.R. headache.
I still stand by my earlier opinion that Vick (and all felons) should spend at least one probationary year on the practice squad to earn their way back onto the field. That won't happen in Vick's case, but I'm begrudgingly accepting the situation as it stands. Vick will start the season as a back-up to Donovan McNabb, so he won't be just handed a starting position and a leadership role straight out of prison, which I think is a good thing. And his contract is one year for $1.6 million, which, while more than I think he deserves, is reasonable by NFL standards. Most of it will go to paying his debts anyway, so he won't be handed his previous life of luxury straight out of prison either, which I think is as it should be.
I would be more angry about it if Vick hadn't done everything right so far to earn a second chance. He's expressed remorse without making excuses. He's sought mentoring from Tony Dungy, who may be just the kind of stand-up father figure he needs. He's worked with the Humane Society to speak out about the consequences of dog fighting.
That last partnership may be the most key aspect of Vick's comeback. It's certainly an odd pairing — the most famous dog abuser in human history volunteering with the Humane Society — but it has tremendous potential to benefit both parties. As the president of the Humane Society recently pointed out, Vick allows the organization to reach audiences they could never hope to get through to in the past. And Vick desperately needs the support of a group like the Humane Society to mitigate the PETA attacks that are almost certain to descend on Philly soon. There are a lot of people who will never forgive Vick, and will never forgive the Eagles for signing him.
I'm a dog lover myself. Everyone who knows me knows that my buddy Baxter is close to my heart. But I'm ready to move on, and assume that Vick is truly sorry, he's learned his lesson and he's going to respresent the NFL well and turn his story into a positive. I'm sure there will be plenty of people protesting Vick's reinstatement. I just wonder how many will also protest if and when Donte Stallworth comes back. After all Stallworth killed a person and, whether accidental (DUI in Stallworth's case) or not, we should be able to muster up just as much righteous indignation for his victim as for Vick's.
When Vick signed with the Philadelphia Eagles on Thursday I have to say I was surprised. He's a dynamic, unique player, so I figured someone would sign him eventually, but I thought it would take a little more time (and perhaps a few more injuries to prominent QBs) for a team to decide he was worth the P.R. headache.
I still stand by my earlier opinion that Vick (and all felons) should spend at least one probationary year on the practice squad to earn their way back onto the field. That won't happen in Vick's case, but I'm begrudgingly accepting the situation as it stands. Vick will start the season as a back-up to Donovan McNabb, so he won't be just handed a starting position and a leadership role straight out of prison, which I think is a good thing. And his contract is one year for $1.6 million, which, while more than I think he deserves, is reasonable by NFL standards. Most of it will go to paying his debts anyway, so he won't be handed his previous life of luxury straight out of prison either, which I think is as it should be.
I would be more angry about it if Vick hadn't done everything right so far to earn a second chance. He's expressed remorse without making excuses. He's sought mentoring from Tony Dungy, who may be just the kind of stand-up father figure he needs. He's worked with the Humane Society to speak out about the consequences of dog fighting.
That last partnership may be the most key aspect of Vick's comeback. It's certainly an odd pairing — the most famous dog abuser in human history volunteering with the Humane Society — but it has tremendous potential to benefit both parties. As the president of the Humane Society recently pointed out, Vick allows the organization to reach audiences they could never hope to get through to in the past. And Vick desperately needs the support of a group like the Humane Society to mitigate the PETA attacks that are almost certain to descend on Philly soon. There are a lot of people who will never forgive Vick, and will never forgive the Eagles for signing him.
I'm a dog lover myself. Everyone who knows me knows that my buddy Baxter is close to my heart. But I'm ready to move on, and assume that Vick is truly sorry, he's learned his lesson and he's going to respresent the NFL well and turn his story into a positive. I'm sure there will be plenty of people protesting Vick's reinstatement. I just wonder how many will also protest if and when Donte Stallworth comes back. After all Stallworth killed a person and, whether accidental (DUI in Stallworth's case) or not, we should be able to muster up just as much righteous indignation for his victim as for Vick's.
Monday, August 10, 2009
New gig
So I had my Minnesota Reading Corps orientation today. Nothing too special — a few of those get-to-know-you icebreakers that I don't think I'd done since college, about 4 or 5 hours of PowerPoint presentations going over the handbook we'd just been given (we can probably read that on our own if we're in the Minnesota "Reading" Corps, right?) and a website tutorial that short-circuited rather quickly once we found out that the website wasn't ready to accept our usernames yet.
Here's the particulars of the program:
--It's a division of AmeriCorps, which is like the domestic Peace Corps.
--I will be tutoring kids in grades K-3 at Madison Elementary School (St. Cloud, MN) to help them get up to grade level in reading.
--The program is funded by the federal government and administered by the state. My living allowance (roughly $800 a month after taxes) will not come out of school district funds and I will not be taking anyone's job.
-- I am bound by strict confidentiality rules regarding the kids I'm tutoring, so I won't be blogging about them :)
My initial impressions? Yes, AmeriCorps is a federal program and it does seem to be ruled by a rather complicated, multi-tiered bureaucracy with all kinds of committees, coordinators and administrators, all explained through nearly-indecipherable flow charts. But I think my program, the Minnesota Reading Corps, is an excellent investment.
First of all, it's very targeted and focused. Some of the other AmeriCorps positions I looked at seemed to have vague and ambiguous goals (hey, if it's good enough for our troops in Iraq, I guess it's good enough for AmeriCorps volunteers too, right?). But the MRC has a very simple, straightforward mission: to teach kids to read so they'll be able to handle their textbooks from 4th grade on. It also has very stringent methods for tracking effectiveness. As I understand it, I will be collecting and recording data on the kids' progress daily. Data that will be used to determine how well the program is working and what kind of difference I'm making.
Clearly defined goals, a proven method for meeting them and meticulous data to record how well they're being met. It's no wonder the MRC is one of the rising stars of AmeriCorps. Right now the program is unique to Minnesota but 20 other states have inquired about it and are interested in copying it.
http://www.startribune.com/local/stpaul/36087739.html?elr=KArksLckD8EQDUoaEyqyP4O:DW3ckUiD3aPc:_Yyc:aULPQL7PQLanchO7DiUss
So, in that sense, I'm a pioneer, and that's exciting. At this point I'm itching to get done with the PowerPoints and get on to the business of teaching kids to read.
Here's the particulars of the program:
--It's a division of AmeriCorps, which is like the domestic Peace Corps.
--I will be tutoring kids in grades K-3 at Madison Elementary School (St. Cloud, MN) to help them get up to grade level in reading.
--The program is funded by the federal government and administered by the state. My living allowance (roughly $800 a month after taxes) will not come out of school district funds and I will not be taking anyone's job.
-- I am bound by strict confidentiality rules regarding the kids I'm tutoring, so I won't be blogging about them :)
My initial impressions? Yes, AmeriCorps is a federal program and it does seem to be ruled by a rather complicated, multi-tiered bureaucracy with all kinds of committees, coordinators and administrators, all explained through nearly-indecipherable flow charts. But I think my program, the Minnesota Reading Corps, is an excellent investment.
First of all, it's very targeted and focused. Some of the other AmeriCorps positions I looked at seemed to have vague and ambiguous goals (hey, if it's good enough for our troops in Iraq, I guess it's good enough for AmeriCorps volunteers too, right?). But the MRC has a very simple, straightforward mission: to teach kids to read so they'll be able to handle their textbooks from 4th grade on. It also has very stringent methods for tracking effectiveness. As I understand it, I will be collecting and recording data on the kids' progress daily. Data that will be used to determine how well the program is working and what kind of difference I'm making.
Clearly defined goals, a proven method for meeting them and meticulous data to record how well they're being met. It's no wonder the MRC is one of the rising stars of AmeriCorps. Right now the program is unique to Minnesota but 20 other states have inquired about it and are interested in copying it.
http://www.startribune.com/local/stpaul/36087739.html?elr=KArksLckD8EQDUoaEyqyP4O:DW3ckUiD3aPc:_Yyc:aULPQL7PQLanchO7DiUss
So, in that sense, I'm a pioneer, and that's exciting. At this point I'm itching to get done with the PowerPoints and get on to the business of teaching kids to read.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
The simple joy of soreness
My legs were slightly sore today, but it was a good kind of sore. The kind of sore that you know you've earned and that you know will make you feel better in the long run. In my case I earned it with a two-hour bike ride with my buddy Timmy through most of St. Cloud's north side on Saturday.
It was not the first time I rode a bike since my amputations. Public transportation was somewhat limited in my trip to Brazil last year, so there were a couple of bike rental experiments there. Riding on the paved biking/running path along Copacabana Beach was pretty successful. The cobblestones and steep hills of tiny Parati were less friendly. But I only fell once.
Then I spent about a year without getting back on the bike, before deciding it was time. Last week I bought a bike, a Raleigh Coasting model that looks like a sort of modern version of Pee Wee Herman's bike, except it's all black. It's not really my style, but it's set up well for a person with minimal hand dexterity, which obviously appealed to me. It has coaster brakes on the pedals like the ones we all used to use when we were kids, so I don't need to struggle with hand brakes. It has three speeds but shifts through them automatically (I don't really know how this feature works, but it gives me one less thing to occupy my hands with, so I'm all for it). I can grip the handlebars pretty well with my right hand so, after strapping in my left hand with some Velcro, I'm pretty much good to go.
It's weird, being able move fast under my own power. Not Lance Armstrong fast or anything, but fast enough to cool me off on a hot day. It's also kind of weird to go so hard that my lungs start burning a little and I have to slow down to catch my breath. Never really got to that point on the stationary bike — guess I just wasn't motivated enough cycling in place.
I was never a big fan of it before — exertion, strain, muscle aches. But, believe it or not, after a few years without it you find you miss it. It's nice to be sore when you've done something to earn it.
It was not the first time I rode a bike since my amputations. Public transportation was somewhat limited in my trip to Brazil last year, so there were a couple of bike rental experiments there. Riding on the paved biking/running path along Copacabana Beach was pretty successful. The cobblestones and steep hills of tiny Parati were less friendly. But I only fell once.
Then I spent about a year without getting back on the bike, before deciding it was time. Last week I bought a bike, a Raleigh Coasting model that looks like a sort of modern version of Pee Wee Herman's bike, except it's all black. It's not really my style, but it's set up well for a person with minimal hand dexterity, which obviously appealed to me. It has coaster brakes on the pedals like the ones we all used to use when we were kids, so I don't need to struggle with hand brakes. It has three speeds but shifts through them automatically (I don't really know how this feature works, but it gives me one less thing to occupy my hands with, so I'm all for it). I can grip the handlebars pretty well with my right hand so, after strapping in my left hand with some Velcro, I'm pretty much good to go.
It's weird, being able move fast under my own power. Not Lance Armstrong fast or anything, but fast enough to cool me off on a hot day. It's also kind of weird to go so hard that my lungs start burning a little and I have to slow down to catch my breath. Never really got to that point on the stationary bike — guess I just wasn't motivated enough cycling in place.
I was never a big fan of it before — exertion, strain, muscle aches. But, believe it or not, after a few years without it you find you miss it. It's nice to be sore when you've done something to earn it.
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