Here's an abstract poem for you: a little of it is taken from a previous poem, the other stuff is new.
"Across a golden canopy of sunset trees above,
Rides through the misty morning rain a Beacon shining Love
"She rides the waves of light among the glowing rays of time,
She reaches ever upward with an effervescent shine.
"With glistening look of wisdom she can see and know things through,
The deep to her is shallow as a river clear with Truth.
"She hovers over hurting pasts and cloudy minds of sadness,
She lifts the loads with burdens light and pours out strength through gladness.
"Although this spirit never lands she’s always never gone,
For those in need that see her deeds are filled with brand new song!"
Jeremy Dahlen 2005
June 29, 2005
June 21, 2005
The Worst Night Ever
Good day, folks. For those of you anxiously biting your fingernails while awaiting my next post: (Dave, Mindy, Fuzzy Feline) you may now relax, for it has arrived.
The story you are about to read is completely and totally true. Nothing has been fabricated or exaggerated (and I ain't lyin' none either). I am simply giving the factual tale of The Worst Night Ever.
PART I: BEFORE I BEGIN ...
"I did pretty well, for someone new at this fun yet nerve-pinching job. I drove the cars quickly, parked them quickly, and in all areas tried (for the most part) did my best to be safe."
"If any of you has ever valeted a $100,000.00+ car, you have felt the many emotions that this job brings. The first one that hits you is awe:
You think, 'I get to drive that?! WHOA!'.
The second emotion hits you right after you have seated yourself on the inside of the car... it happens after you look around from your seat on the soft recliner-style supple leather, gazing at gizmos and gadgets and deep, rich, birch trim and flat screen TV's with DVD/MP3 players. This second emotion is pity... pity for yourself.
Now you think,'I'm poor!'
The third emotion punches you in the chest as you press the accelerator... POWER!
You want to scream, 'I am rich and invincible!' You speed along (quickly, yet safely) to your parking spot. Then you get out of the car and that emotion is gone... you realize you are poor and vulnerable to getting hit by other cars in the parking lot."
"Anyway, now you have just a few of the emotions a valet feels. For being such a simple job, there is an overwhelming amount of responsibility. You have to deal with not only the cars, but the people who own the cars."
PART II: AND SO IT BEGAN...
Most of you have probably never been to Nye's Polka Bar downtown. From what I had heard of it, the valet's who worked it would leave with a wad of cash... and by "wad" I mean 150-250 bucks for one night.
The new people were not allowed to work there, but after a couple months I looked at my schedule and realized that one Saturday night I was going to work Nye's. Some of my fellow valets got jealous... I got excited.
I arrived at 4 PM, ready to go. I looked at the parking lot and shuddered. It was TINY. Maybe enough room for 30 cars... and we had to fit at least 50? Great. I pulled on my jacket as I prepared for the night... placing my car keys and other things into the lock box (the large box on wheels that held all of the customers car keys) I removed the key from the lock box (used to lock the lock box) and put it around my neck.
There are two rushes at Nye's. The "late crowd", and the late "gimme-another-drink, time-to-sing-kareoke, I-don't-know-your-name-but-let's-make-out, can-I-have-another-drink, pleeease-can-I-have-another-drink, whoa-look-I'm-dancing-on-a-table" crowd.
The first rush (the dinner and 1-2 drinks people) arrived between 7-9. The lineup of cars was terrifying. The lot was full, and there was 3-7 cars lined up waiting for their cars to be parked. Me and the other valet sprinted around, moving cars, picking up cars, getting keys, parking cars, etc...
The rush died at about 9:30. We cleared some more cars out of the lot, and only parked a few more. Having a couple of minutes of breathing time, I ran over to the pizza place nearby and scarfed down some pizza. I ran back.
At about 11 PM the second rush started. The lineup of cars waiting to be parked was tremendous... there were probably about 15. I ran up to an older Porsche to hand the owner a ticket. He scowled at me from his old blue piece of junk. "Who's parking my car?" he snapped, glaring. I was crabby, tired, and in no mood to argue.
"Either me or the other valet... why? Is there something we need to know about this car?" I stared him down.
After a minute he and his wife got out of the car and went in. We parked it.
Just as things were getting even more out-of-control crazy, something terrible happened. Somehow (I still don't know how to this day) my key, which was placed in a hidden location (the key that unlocked the lock box) was gone. That's right, the lock box was locked - for good. Just then three different parties came out with their tickets. We looked apologetically at them. "It's going to be a minute folks...sorry..."
We called our manager immediately, who arrived in about 15 minutes. I also had to notify the managers inside, and they rushed outside. We tried prying, pulling, smashing, bending; anything to unlock the freakin lock box. Nothing worked. Finally, after the original three parties had been waiting for about 25 minutes and 5 other parties had been waiting about 15 minutes, we opened it. Running full speed everywhere at the same time we tried to pull up as many cars as possible.
"BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP..." The stupid car alarm was going off. I tried the door again... nothing. I tried a different door... nothing. I tried the trunk (for those of you who don't know this, opening the trunk of a car with the key will normally turn off the car's alarm system.) and it opened. The alarm went off. I quickly ran to the drivers door and tried the key again... "BEEP BEEP..." AGHH!!! I raced off to find the owner... there he was, embracing his sweetheart. (As you can imagine I was really looking forward to breaking this up...)
"Sir...?"
I explained what was happening. He gave me a dirty look (like his stupid car was my fault) and followed me to the lot.
He couldn't do it either. I almost looked at him and said, "HA!" but I didn't. As I looked back I realized that there was a stack of tickets for cars to be picked up, and the other valet couldn't greet everyone, park everyone AND pick up everyone's cars. (What was wrong with this kid anyway?)
After those two mini-fiasco's, I was about ready to quit. It was after midnight and all I wanted to do was run to my own car and go home. If only I had known what was coming, I may have done just that.
PART III: I WISH I WERE DEAD-ER ...
The couple walked up to me and handed me their ticket. Panting, I quickly found the keys from the un-locked lock box and sprinted off to find there car. I arrived at the parking space and look around. Obviously the other valet had mismarked the ticket. I couldn't read his writing either. I quickly looked at the keys, only to discover that they were un-marked. They looked like generic copied keys. And there more than a dozen. ARRRRGGG!!! I ran to the nearest car, a large (and very expensive) dark blue GMC Denali. Slipping the largest key in the door (the largest key is normally the car key) I turned it. Nothing happened. I looked down at the key in my hand and to my delight found it was GONE... oh yes, I was holding part of the key (the part you turn with your fingers) but the skinny long metal piece (the part that actually starts the car) was gone... that's right, it was in the door to the GMC. I panicked. Pinching the end of the key that was barely sticking out of the door I pulled it out. Good... at least I had both pieces.
Walking back to the couple, I tried to calm myself. The key was old, probably to his house or something. An easily replaceable key.
"Sir?" I walked up to him trying to be cool and collected. "You drive a GMC Yukon Denali, right?
He leaned close and said in a gruff voice, "WHAT?"
I repeated my question with less confidence.
He spoke clearly. "I drive a PORSCHE... what the hell did you do with my Porsche's??"
Oh, crap. This was the Porsche guy! AGH!
He looked down at my hand and saw the key in two pieces. This time his words weren't so gentle. "That's my *&%!*% Porsche key! You broke my &(^%#^%$ Porsche you !^#$(^#(%^(!#%#^&^@@!!" I backed up as he grabbed the pieces out of my hand and stalked off to find his old crappy Porsche.
He didn't have far to go. Reaching the door, he opened it... the car was UNLOCKED! This wasn't my fault either... the other valet had forgotten to lock the car. The man got madder. I could tell he had been drinking - a lot. His wife had been, too... but they both reacted to alcohol in different ways. The man got mean and boisterous and obnoxious. His wife or whoever she was just leaned on the car and stared into space with a pleasant look on her face.
Getting into his car, the man jammed the tiny piece of key into the ignition. Joining our happy group was my manager and a manager from the restaurant... all very disgruntled. The angry Porsche man turned around and grabbed a screwdriver out of the managers hand... after this I just walked away. I started parking more cars, picking up cars, ect., trying to get this night off of my mind.
A couple of minutes later they were gone. He had somehow started the car, and left shouting threats of lawsuits, ect.
(I heard he later called the main office demanding a new ignition system... he didn't get it - he got a new key.)
It was 1:45 AM and the night was FINALLY winding down a little. A large grouped walked out and handed me a ticket. Pulling up their large read SUV, I got out of the running car. The owner walked up to me.
"Hey man... can you drive us to our hotel? It's just down the road." Oh, yippe skippy dippy just what I was dying to do... Chauffeur drunk people to their hotels. Grrrrrrr.... I looked at the other valet. He nodded viciously - favors like this came at high prices, and it may be worth it. I agreed.
Seven drunkies sat in the car with me... all explaining in loud voices where the hotel was and which road to take. Fifteen minutes later we arrived at the hotel which should have taken us 30 seconds to get to. Morons. I got out of the car and waited. The guy came around the car, said thanks, and handed me a $15... not bad. I ran back the one block to the restaurant to find with pure joy that it had closed. My night straight from h - e double hocky sticks was over!
We sat in a dark booth at 2:40 AM and pulled out The Wad. We counted.... and re-counted. We each went home with almost $250. Well-deserved, to say the least.
I would never in a million years re-live that night and valet there. I wouldn't do it for $250 or $400 or any amount of money.
I can honestly say it was probably without a doubt The Worst Night Ever.
The story you are about to read is completely and totally true. Nothing has been fabricated or exaggerated (and I ain't lyin' none either). I am simply giving the factual tale of The Worst Night Ever.
PART I: BEFORE I BEGIN ...
"I did pretty well, for someone new at this fun yet nerve-pinching job. I drove the cars quickly, parked them quickly, and in all areas tried (for the most part) did my best to be safe."
"If any of you has ever valeted a $100,000.00+ car, you have felt the many emotions that this job brings. The first one that hits you is awe:
You think, 'I get to drive that?! WHOA!'.
The second emotion hits you right after you have seated yourself on the inside of the car... it happens after you look around from your seat on the soft recliner-style supple leather, gazing at gizmos and gadgets and deep, rich, birch trim and flat screen TV's with DVD/MP3 players. This second emotion is pity... pity for yourself.
Now you think,'I'm poor!'
The third emotion punches you in the chest as you press the accelerator... POWER!
You want to scream, 'I am rich and invincible!' You speed along (quickly, yet safely) to your parking spot. Then you get out of the car and that emotion is gone... you realize you are poor and vulnerable to getting hit by other cars in the parking lot."
"Anyway, now you have just a few of the emotions a valet feels. For being such a simple job, there is an overwhelming amount of responsibility. You have to deal with not only the cars, but the people who own the cars."
PART II: AND SO IT BEGAN...
Most of you have probably never been to Nye's Polka Bar downtown. From what I had heard of it, the valet's who worked it would leave with a wad of cash... and by "wad" I mean 150-250 bucks for one night.
The new people were not allowed to work there, but after a couple months I looked at my schedule and realized that one Saturday night I was going to work Nye's. Some of my fellow valets got jealous... I got excited.
I arrived at 4 PM, ready to go. I looked at the parking lot and shuddered. It was TINY. Maybe enough room for 30 cars... and we had to fit at least 50? Great. I pulled on my jacket as I prepared for the night... placing my car keys and other things into the lock box (the large box on wheels that held all of the customers car keys) I removed the key from the lock box (used to lock the lock box) and put it around my neck.
There are two rushes at Nye's. The "late crowd", and the late "gimme-another-drink, time-to-sing-kareoke, I-don't-know-your-name-but-let's-make-out, can-I-have-another-drink, pleeease-can-I-have-another-drink, whoa-look-I'm-dancing-on-a-table" crowd.
The first rush (the dinner and 1-2 drinks people) arrived between 7-9. The lineup of cars was terrifying. The lot was full, and there was 3-7 cars lined up waiting for their cars to be parked. Me and the other valet sprinted around, moving cars, picking up cars, getting keys, parking cars, etc...
The rush died at about 9:30. We cleared some more cars out of the lot, and only parked a few more. Having a couple of minutes of breathing time, I ran over to the pizza place nearby and scarfed down some pizza. I ran back.
At about 11 PM the second rush started. The lineup of cars waiting to be parked was tremendous... there were probably about 15. I ran up to an older Porsche to hand the owner a ticket. He scowled at me from his old blue piece of junk. "Who's parking my car?" he snapped, glaring. I was crabby, tired, and in no mood to argue.
"Either me or the other valet... why? Is there something we need to know about this car?" I stared him down.
After a minute he and his wife got out of the car and went in. We parked it.
Just as things were getting even more out-of-control crazy, something terrible happened. Somehow (I still don't know how to this day) my key, which was placed in a hidden location (the key that unlocked the lock box) was gone. That's right, the lock box was locked - for good. Just then three different parties came out with their tickets. We looked apologetically at them. "It's going to be a minute folks...sorry..."
We called our manager immediately, who arrived in about 15 minutes. I also had to notify the managers inside, and they rushed outside. We tried prying, pulling, smashing, bending; anything to unlock the freakin lock box. Nothing worked. Finally, after the original three parties had been waiting for about 25 minutes and 5 other parties had been waiting about 15 minutes, we opened it. Running full speed everywhere at the same time we tried to pull up as many cars as possible.
"BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP..." The stupid car alarm was going off. I tried the door again... nothing. I tried a different door... nothing. I tried the trunk (for those of you who don't know this, opening the trunk of a car with the key will normally turn off the car's alarm system.) and it opened. The alarm went off. I quickly ran to the drivers door and tried the key again... "BEEP BEEP..." AGHH!!! I raced off to find the owner... there he was, embracing his sweetheart. (As you can imagine I was really looking forward to breaking this up...)
"Sir...?"
I explained what was happening. He gave me a dirty look (like his stupid car was my fault) and followed me to the lot.
He couldn't do it either. I almost looked at him and said, "HA!" but I didn't. As I looked back I realized that there was a stack of tickets for cars to be picked up, and the other valet couldn't greet everyone, park everyone AND pick up everyone's cars. (What was wrong with this kid anyway?)
After those two mini-fiasco's, I was about ready to quit. It was after midnight and all I wanted to do was run to my own car and go home. If only I had known what was coming, I may have done just that.
PART III: I WISH I WERE DEAD-ER ...
The couple walked up to me and handed me their ticket. Panting, I quickly found the keys from the un-locked lock box and sprinted off to find there car. I arrived at the parking space and look around. Obviously the other valet had mismarked the ticket. I couldn't read his writing either. I quickly looked at the keys, only to discover that they were un-marked. They looked like generic copied keys. And there more than a dozen. ARRRRGGG!!! I ran to the nearest car, a large (and very expensive) dark blue GMC Denali. Slipping the largest key in the door (the largest key is normally the car key) I turned it. Nothing happened. I looked down at the key in my hand and to my delight found it was GONE... oh yes, I was holding part of the key (the part you turn with your fingers) but the skinny long metal piece (the part that actually starts the car) was gone... that's right, it was in the door to the GMC. I panicked. Pinching the end of the key that was barely sticking out of the door I pulled it out. Good... at least I had both pieces.
Walking back to the couple, I tried to calm myself. The key was old, probably to his house or something. An easily replaceable key.
"Sir?" I walked up to him trying to be cool and collected. "You drive a GMC Yukon Denali, right?
He leaned close and said in a gruff voice, "WHAT?"
I repeated my question with less confidence.
He spoke clearly. "I drive a PORSCHE... what the hell did you do with my Porsche's??"
Oh, crap. This was the Porsche guy! AGH!
He looked down at my hand and saw the key in two pieces. This time his words weren't so gentle. "That's my *&%!*% Porsche key! You broke my &(^%#^%$ Porsche you !^#$(^#(%^(!#%#^&^@@!!" I backed up as he grabbed the pieces out of my hand and stalked off to find his old crappy Porsche.
He didn't have far to go. Reaching the door, he opened it... the car was UNLOCKED! This wasn't my fault either... the other valet had forgotten to lock the car. The man got madder. I could tell he had been drinking - a lot. His wife had been, too... but they both reacted to alcohol in different ways. The man got mean and boisterous and obnoxious. His wife or whoever she was just leaned on the car and stared into space with a pleasant look on her face.
Getting into his car, the man jammed the tiny piece of key into the ignition. Joining our happy group was my manager and a manager from the restaurant... all very disgruntled. The angry Porsche man turned around and grabbed a screwdriver out of the managers hand... after this I just walked away. I started parking more cars, picking up cars, ect., trying to get this night off of my mind.
A couple of minutes later they were gone. He had somehow started the car, and left shouting threats of lawsuits, ect.
(I heard he later called the main office demanding a new ignition system... he didn't get it - he got a new key.)
It was 1:45 AM and the night was FINALLY winding down a little. A large grouped walked out and handed me a ticket. Pulling up their large read SUV, I got out of the running car. The owner walked up to me.
"Hey man... can you drive us to our hotel? It's just down the road." Oh, yippe skippy dippy just what I was dying to do... Chauffeur drunk people to their hotels. Grrrrrrr.... I looked at the other valet. He nodded viciously - favors like this came at high prices, and it may be worth it. I agreed.
Seven drunkies sat in the car with me... all explaining in loud voices where the hotel was and which road to take. Fifteen minutes later we arrived at the hotel which should have taken us 30 seconds to get to. Morons. I got out of the car and waited. The guy came around the car, said thanks, and handed me a $15... not bad. I ran back the one block to the restaurant to find with pure joy that it had closed. My night straight from h - e double hocky sticks was over!
We sat in a dark booth at 2:40 AM and pulled out The Wad. We counted.... and re-counted. We each went home with almost $250. Well-deserved, to say the least.
I would never in a million years re-live that night and valet there. I wouldn't do it for $250 or $400 or any amount of money.
I can honestly say it was probably without a doubt The Worst Night Ever.
May 28, 2005
May 27, 2005
May 25, 2005
A Poem: Let me Hear
Song and Poems
Travel close.
Sometimes I can reach them,
And sometimes I can't get away from them.
My heart is chased
My thoughts are scattered
My head is full
My heart has room,
For Songs and Poems
That fill the space
The void inside
That needs clarity, creative construction
So I can explain to me,
And them,
And all,
What is going on and why
Songs and Poems meet me and
Sing
Listen
Let me in on things I might have missed
A song is a rhythm of my heart,
A poem is an expression of my soul,
Let them sing
Let them read
And then I will understand
And Wait,
Wait,
And then I will be complete.
Jeremy Dahlen 2005
Travel close.
Sometimes I can reach them,
And sometimes I can't get away from them.
My heart is chased
My thoughts are scattered
My head is full
My heart has room,
For Songs and Poems
That fill the space
The void inside
That needs clarity, creative construction
So I can explain to me,
And them,
And all,
What is going on and why
Songs and Poems meet me and
Sing
Listen
Let me in on things I might have missed
A song is a rhythm of my heart,
A poem is an expression of my soul,
Let them sing
Let them read
And then I will understand
And Wait,
Wait,
And then I will be complete.
Jeremy Dahlen 2005
May 02, 2005
Those Duffers
Oh the joyous memories of highschool! They haunt me with glittering visions of stupid homework assignments that I freaked out over, of strange peers I will never forget, and of 90% me/teacher obstinacy.
I will start my story with a lovely woman named Mrs. Satre. We called her Satre, or Sats, or Fido, or whatever we wanted, because she was so out of it she didn't notice anyway. It was biology and I was in tenth grade. Now Sats was into three things: her dogs (cocker spaniels, whom she resembled with her ear-like hair flaps,) her fish tank, and the movie "Contact". We started the year watching Contact on THREE tv screens (simultaneously) in the bio room (she liked technology a LOT) and enjoyed this feeling: "Ahhh, it's one of THESE teachers."
Satre had her grade book sitting in one of her drawers, behind her desk. About half the class would actually just go up behind her desk and get the grade book and change their grades... I don't doubt that some would scribble out the "D-" and replace it with a wobbly "A+". Sats was so out of it that even if she would catch them doing it, they would just apologize and then do extra credit to keep their grade up.
Now, Mrs Satre didn't have a bathroom pass, so she would just tell you to grab a stapler or a magazine or anything that wasn't bolted to the floor to take with you. Even when I was a senior I would see a kid walking down the hall with a giant test tube or a VCR I knew they were coming from Satre's class.
One Year Later... (and this story has nothing to do with Sats.)
I had just arrived back at school, happy. I had finally finished an errand I had wanted to do for a long time... it wasn't really that important, but when you are in highschool everything is important (except for the important things...) Anyway, I had gone to the mall, to the store "Perfumania" to buy some cologne. The cologne, "Drakkar Noir," is actually very expensive and I didn't really buy it all that often. ("All that often" refers to the fact that I had never bought it before this point.)
I arrived back at school - I had some break between my last class and band practice - and sat in the cafeteria. Pretty soon, a pretty girl (with pretty good taste) who was a pretty good friend of mine, walked by.
Here is a snapshot of our conversation:
"Hey, how are you?" I asked, happily.
"Good... hey, do we have band today?" she replied, sitting down across from me.
"...yeah I think... but you never know for sure, DW is such an--"
She suddenly began to sniff the air with great curiosity.
"What IS that smell?" she looked around inquisitively. I shuddered, just having put on a little on my new smell.
She continued, "... Seriously... what is that?? OH! It smells like really cheap cologne! Oh well."
What a great feeling that left me with!
ANOTHER STORY.
My senior year I was in English class. Mr. Sinclair, my teacher, was pretty cool... he understood we all were in the "senior slide" mentality as he explained to us at the beginning of the semester, "You all have the senior slide attitude. You guys will pretty much be useless to me in a couple weeks." Haha, now we would be.
Anyway, one of the projects we did was a debate. I was partnered with one of my friends who was gone the day we picked topics. "Well," I thought, "too bad for him!" I chose the topic "After School Activities" and, being the wise person that I am, chose to be FOR after school activities... my friend would have to be against them.
On the say of the debate, I arrived prepared. I took it seriously at first, but then stopped. This friend must have realized that, duh, there are no good arguments NOT to have after school activities -- he had nothing to say! So, what he did was print out pictures which he then handed out to the entire class. What were the pictures?? They were pictures of horrible world leaders, Hitler, Sadam, and Stalin with MY face copied over theirs! That's right! MY FACE, ON HITLER'S! The class ate it up - they loved it, and all thought and reason was gone from the room. My arguments stood, his argument was that I was a Nazi... I can't remember too well, but I think he won the debate.
I will start my story with a lovely woman named Mrs. Satre. We called her Satre, or Sats, or Fido, or whatever we wanted, because she was so out of it she didn't notice anyway. It was biology and I was in tenth grade. Now Sats was into three things: her dogs (cocker spaniels, whom she resembled with her ear-like hair flaps,) her fish tank, and the movie "Contact". We started the year watching Contact on THREE tv screens (simultaneously) in the bio room (she liked technology a LOT) and enjoyed this feeling: "Ahhh, it's one of THESE teachers."
Satre had her grade book sitting in one of her drawers, behind her desk. About half the class would actually just go up behind her desk and get the grade book and change their grades... I don't doubt that some would scribble out the "D-" and replace it with a wobbly "A+". Sats was so out of it that even if she would catch them doing it, they would just apologize and then do extra credit to keep their grade up.
Now, Mrs Satre didn't have a bathroom pass, so she would just tell you to grab a stapler or a magazine or anything that wasn't bolted to the floor to take with you. Even when I was a senior I would see a kid walking down the hall with a giant test tube or a VCR I knew they were coming from Satre's class.
One Year Later... (and this story has nothing to do with Sats.)
I had just arrived back at school, happy. I had finally finished an errand I had wanted to do for a long time... it wasn't really that important, but when you are in highschool everything is important (except for the important things...) Anyway, I had gone to the mall, to the store "Perfumania" to buy some cologne. The cologne, "Drakkar Noir," is actually very expensive and I didn't really buy it all that often. ("All that often" refers to the fact that I had never bought it before this point.)
I arrived back at school - I had some break between my last class and band practice - and sat in the cafeteria. Pretty soon, a pretty girl (with pretty good taste) who was a pretty good friend of mine, walked by.
Here is a snapshot of our conversation:
"Hey, how are you?" I asked, happily.
"Good... hey, do we have band today?" she replied, sitting down across from me.
"...yeah I think... but you never know for sure, DW is such an--"
She suddenly began to sniff the air with great curiosity.
"What IS that smell?" she looked around inquisitively. I shuddered, just having put on a little on my new smell.
She continued, "... Seriously... what is that?? OH! It smells like really cheap cologne! Oh well."
What a great feeling that left me with!
ANOTHER STORY.
My senior year I was in English class. Mr. Sinclair, my teacher, was pretty cool... he understood we all were in the "senior slide" mentality as he explained to us at the beginning of the semester, "You all have the senior slide attitude. You guys will pretty much be useless to me in a couple weeks." Haha, now we would be.
Anyway, one of the projects we did was a debate. I was partnered with one of my friends who was gone the day we picked topics. "Well," I thought, "too bad for him!" I chose the topic "After School Activities" and, being the wise person that I am, chose to be FOR after school activities... my friend would have to be against them.
On the say of the debate, I arrived prepared. I took it seriously at first, but then stopped. This friend must have realized that, duh, there are no good arguments NOT to have after school activities -- he had nothing to say! So, what he did was print out pictures which he then handed out to the entire class. What were the pictures?? They were pictures of horrible world leaders, Hitler, Sadam, and Stalin with MY face copied over theirs! That's right! MY FACE, ON HITLER'S! The class ate it up - they loved it, and all thought and reason was gone from the room. My arguments stood, his argument was that I was a Nazi... I can't remember too well, but I think he won the debate.
April 15, 2005
Poem
As misty mountains, deep in thought
Awaken on this morn,
As wooded hills and sunfilled trails
Arise in morning song,
I walk and think of things so big,
My mind can hardly hold
And stare in awe of things so tall, so colorful, so old.
And greeted under dewey pass,
A yellow bird sits near
With tilted head he makes a noise,
of welcomed heart-warmed cheer.
I breath in deep and walk along,
Continuing my journey,
But as I ponder what I see,
I feel my head start learning.
For hearts can learn of feelings,
And heads can fill with facts,
But rarely do the two parts mix,
Before we've turned our backs.
But out here where it's clear and cool,
My heart waits for my head.
The two meet up and walk with me,
Not one, but three, instead.
Awaken on this morn,
As wooded hills and sunfilled trails
Arise in morning song,
I walk and think of things so big,
My mind can hardly hold
And stare in awe of things so tall, so colorful, so old.
And greeted under dewey pass,
A yellow bird sits near
With tilted head he makes a noise,
of welcomed heart-warmed cheer.
I breath in deep and walk along,
Continuing my journey,
But as I ponder what I see,
I feel my head start learning.
For hearts can learn of feelings,
And heads can fill with facts,
But rarely do the two parts mix,
Before we've turned our backs.
But out here where it's clear and cool,
My heart waits for my head.
The two meet up and walk with me,
Not one, but three, instead.
April 07, 2005
March 26, 2005
It's 1:45AM...
...and there's a 15-year-old girl in my bedroom. Don't worry, I'm not in the room with her, I'm next door in our office. But I can hear this faint coughing every once and a while and it's kind of eerie. Let me explain.
My Uncle's into violins. Every once and a while, he leaves the town of Remer, Minnesota (population 225) and stays with us here in the cities; usually so he can attend some violin extravaganza or Blue Grass yadda yadda yadda you get the point. Sometimes he sells the violins he builds, too. OK. So, apparently there was this girl who wanted to come with my uncle (from his church) to help him sell his violins and listen to the Blue Grass music. The catch was, she needed somewhere to sleep. My house, although adequately sized, sleeps the amount of people it was designed for: four or five... so now we have my family, my uncle, a cousin, and this girl - all needing a place to sleep. Obviously you can't put all three in the same room, so the girl was given my room.
I was driving home at around 12:30AM when I remembered her. My mind stopped short and I was suddenly annoyed... there was a stranger, not only inhabiting my room, but WRAPPED in my blankets! MY blankets! To make matters worse, I had just received a brand new blanket for my bed. It was dark blue and made of Velux material. For those of you who don't know what that material is, it's the type of blankets they use in hotels... kind of short and furry-ish.... weird, I don't like that description. Nevermind.
12:54PM:
I walk into my house and down the upstairs hall. My door is open. I don't want to peer in in case she's in there peering out, so I quietly start my end-of-the-day grooming... then I find a note.
Jeremy,
You are sleeping in the office tonight. There are some clothes in there already. Goodnight!
Love, Mom
1:04AM:
I walk into our tiny office. Three cushions are laid on the floor with a sleeping bag on top. Some miscellaneous clothes are folded and lay on my pillow. I sigh and put on my pajamas. Climbing into the sleeping bag I find that not only do I have to balance on the cushions so I don't roll off either side, but I'm too LONG for the sleeping bag... I don't fit! Great.
3:30AM
It's pitch black but my bladder is beckoning me to the bathroom. I struggle while trying to pull myself out of the sleeping bag and then accidentally roll off. Dang it! I finally get up and feel my way to the office door. Just as my hand finds the doornob, the knob slowly begins to twist in my hand. I pull my hand away and try to think clearly. Someone is coming into the office. I step to the side as the door opens. Finding myself wedged between the door and the wall, I breath heavily. Then comes a sound... it's a quiet yet distinctively familiar cough. It's her.
What in the heck is she doing?
Is she lost?
Does she think this is the bathroom....?
AGH!........
*Let me confess. The last paragraph is NOT true. All of the story except this part was real, but I was getting bored. My apologies.
Anywho, long story short there was a 15-year-old girl in my room. Some of my friends who know the story refer to her and "15-year-old" and it's kind of become an inside joke...
"Oooh, 15-year-old."
(STORY STARTED MARCH 5, 2005)
My Uncle's into violins. Every once and a while, he leaves the town of Remer, Minnesota (population 225) and stays with us here in the cities; usually so he can attend some violin extravaganza or Blue Grass yadda yadda yadda you get the point. Sometimes he sells the violins he builds, too. OK. So, apparently there was this girl who wanted to come with my uncle (from his church) to help him sell his violins and listen to the Blue Grass music. The catch was, she needed somewhere to sleep. My house, although adequately sized, sleeps the amount of people it was designed for: four or five... so now we have my family, my uncle, a cousin, and this girl - all needing a place to sleep. Obviously you can't put all three in the same room, so the girl was given my room.
I was driving home at around 12:30AM when I remembered her. My mind stopped short and I was suddenly annoyed... there was a stranger, not only inhabiting my room, but WRAPPED in my blankets! MY blankets! To make matters worse, I had just received a brand new blanket for my bed. It was dark blue and made of Velux material. For those of you who don't know what that material is, it's the type of blankets they use in hotels... kind of short and furry-ish.... weird, I don't like that description. Nevermind.
12:54PM:
I walk into my house and down the upstairs hall. My door is open. I don't want to peer in in case she's in there peering out, so I quietly start my end-of-the-day grooming... then I find a note.
Jeremy,
You are sleeping in the office tonight. There are some clothes in there already. Goodnight!
Love, Mom
1:04AM:
I walk into our tiny office. Three cushions are laid on the floor with a sleeping bag on top. Some miscellaneous clothes are folded and lay on my pillow. I sigh and put on my pajamas. Climbing into the sleeping bag I find that not only do I have to balance on the cushions so I don't roll off either side, but I'm too LONG for the sleeping bag... I don't fit! Great.
3:30AM
It's pitch black but my bladder is beckoning me to the bathroom. I struggle while trying to pull myself out of the sleeping bag and then accidentally roll off. Dang it! I finally get up and feel my way to the office door. Just as my hand finds the doornob, the knob slowly begins to twist in my hand. I pull my hand away and try to think clearly. Someone is coming into the office. I step to the side as the door opens. Finding myself wedged between the door and the wall, I breath heavily. Then comes a sound... it's a quiet yet distinctively familiar cough. It's her.
What in the heck is she doing?
Is she lost?
Does she think this is the bathroom....?
AGH!........
*Let me confess. The last paragraph is NOT true. All of the story except this part was real, but I was getting bored. My apologies.
Anywho, long story short there was a 15-year-old girl in my room. Some of my friends who know the story refer to her and "15-year-old" and it's kind of become an inside joke...
"Oooh, 15-year-old."
(STORY STARTED MARCH 5, 2005)
March 25, 2005
Land Before Time XXIV : New Beginnings
Your favorite characters are back! Petrea, Sarah, Little Foot and the rest of the gang deliver big for more wacky prehistoric fun! Along with the classic characters come new faces and personalities including Chica, the South-Central American Wombat; and Joseraptor, an Asian-pacific Islander Raptor. Nikko, the mildly-tempered and open-minded Sea Turtle, proves that slow water animals are people too, and that through understanding, those with open minds can get along with dinosaurs of any race. The last new character, Jesse, is a dinosaur mix, often made fun of... he is called names like 'Half-Claw,' 'Sir Mix-a-breed' and 'Prehistoric Soup Boy'.
The storyline follows the last 23 movies, but adds a new twist towards the end that audiences of all ages with adore. The basic storyline goes a little like this: Nikko and Joser (nickname) are always fighting. Joser can't seem to understand why Nikko is so slow moving. He teases him incessantly, ignoring Nikko's feelings and making him feel bad for only having one Sea-Parent. Nishi, Nikko's Sea-Parent, is a Long Neck who adopted Nikko after his parents were killed in a stampede in The Great Valley. Even though Nishi can't actually go into the water, the two love spending time together.
In a very touching scene towards the end of the movie, the group of friends is gathered around a blazing fire, singing a medley of uplifting songs. One song, entitled "Friends across the Plain" has meaningful words that every parent wants their child to hear. Here's a snippet:
"La la la, friends we are
La la la, sent from far
Are differences are one, for sure
We love and respect each other, for sure
We help each other grow and learn,
Our spirits soar with the golden sun,
With one heart together, we sing
La la la, friends for sure."
This song is only one of the many life-enriching musical numbers throughout the movie. Others include (but aren't limited to:) Friends Rrrrr Family, Our Strengths United; Differences Abandoned, and Beauty Through Acceptance.
In the last few scenes comes a surprise worth waiting for. One of the characters, Nikko, finds the coveted Magic Treestar, which has supernatural and peaceful powers to transport and / or unite people. After Nikko holds up the Treestar to his heart and whispers the Magic Phrase over and over (Friends for ever! Friends for ever!) he and all the gang is transported to...... the middle of New York City! That's right - it's all just a wild set up for the next movie: Land Before Time XXV: Lost in New York. Any movie lover will find these adventures even more wild, crazy and heart-warming than the previous 24 films. The basic synopsis of THIS movie is creative beyond words! The entire gang finds themselves in fun-loving perils like being lost in the NYC subway system or sneaking into a play and then getting kicked out! Other wacky, original moments include the never-seen-before-in-a-movie sleeping in central park and then getting chased by a cop on a horse! The last scene of the movie happens in a crazy taxi ride! They tell the immigrant driver they want go to the HOTEL but he thinks they said BOAT-EL (a popular boating attraction). The whole group ends up falling off the boat and swimming back in time to The Great Valley! They dry off around another blazing fire, arms around each other, swaying back and forth and singing another classic, "Home is Where we Belong, Loving Each Other Forever United... in Harmony".
The storyline follows the last 23 movies, but adds a new twist towards the end that audiences of all ages with adore. The basic storyline goes a little like this: Nikko and Joser (nickname) are always fighting. Joser can't seem to understand why Nikko is so slow moving. He teases him incessantly, ignoring Nikko's feelings and making him feel bad for only having one Sea-Parent. Nishi, Nikko's Sea-Parent, is a Long Neck who adopted Nikko after his parents were killed in a stampede in The Great Valley. Even though Nishi can't actually go into the water, the two love spending time together.
In a very touching scene towards the end of the movie, the group of friends is gathered around a blazing fire, singing a medley of uplifting songs. One song, entitled "Friends across the Plain" has meaningful words that every parent wants their child to hear. Here's a snippet:
"La la la, friends we are
La la la, sent from far
Are differences are one, for sure
We love and respect each other, for sure
We help each other grow and learn,
Our spirits soar with the golden sun,
With one heart together, we sing
La la la, friends for sure."
This song is only one of the many life-enriching musical numbers throughout the movie. Others include (but aren't limited to:) Friends Rrrrr Family, Our Strengths United; Differences Abandoned, and Beauty Through Acceptance.
In the last few scenes comes a surprise worth waiting for. One of the characters, Nikko, finds the coveted Magic Treestar, which has supernatural and peaceful powers to transport and / or unite people. After Nikko holds up the Treestar to his heart and whispers the Magic Phrase over and over (Friends for ever! Friends for ever!) he and all the gang is transported to...... the middle of New York City! That's right - it's all just a wild set up for the next movie: Land Before Time XXV: Lost in New York. Any movie lover will find these adventures even more wild, crazy and heart-warming than the previous 24 films. The basic synopsis of THIS movie is creative beyond words! The entire gang finds themselves in fun-loving perils like being lost in the NYC subway system or sneaking into a play and then getting kicked out! Other wacky, original moments include the never-seen-before-in-a-movie sleeping in central park and then getting chased by a cop on a horse! The last scene of the movie happens in a crazy taxi ride! They tell the immigrant driver they want go to the HOTEL but he thinks they said BOAT-EL (a popular boating attraction). The whole group ends up falling off the boat and swimming back in time to The Great Valley! They dry off around another blazing fire, arms around each other, swaying back and forth and singing another classic, "Home is Where we Belong, Loving Each Other Forever United... in Harmony".
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