A bushel of book recommendations

Whenever I speak at an author event, I make a point of recommending books to the audience. The following are the books that I am recommending on my current book tour:

I loved this book, and I think it is excellent for adults as well kids. It would be a challenging book for even my strongest fifth grade readers, but I wouldn’t hesitate to put it in their hands. The protagonist, Flavia de Luce, is a female detective and chemist of sorts, which adds to its appeal for me. There are never enough female protagonists in the hands of my students.

I’m not normally a fan of graphic novels, but this autobiography of David Small, who experienced a horrific childhood, is amazing. So full of hope despite the bleak landscape of his life. A great choice for book clubs who are looking for a quick read and a conversation starter.

As the father of a three year old, this book has been a blessing. It teaches strategies for converting your baby into the weight required for strength training. Genius!

Every teacher, regardless of grade level or experience, must read this book. There is no better instructive text for teachers.

Peter Benchley’s JAWS was based upon the Jersey Shore shark attacks of 1916. Michael Capuzzo’s book is the terrifying account of these attacks.

This book is the first gift that my wife ever gave me. It is the story of Despereaux, a mouse who refuses to conform to mouse society and is forced to pay a steep price for his noncompliance. It is a brilliant story, perfect for adult and children, and it contains one of my favorite quotes of all time:

“Reader, you must know that an interesting fate (sometimes involving rats, sometimes not) awaits almost everyone, mouse or man, who does not conform.”

Reading a Billy Collins poem is often like reading an essay and a story blended into one through the use of perfect language. His poetry is accessible, amusing, enlightening and pitch perfect. I strongly recommend you listen to Collins read his poetry rather than reading it yourself.

Or better yet, do both.

Nora Ephron may be remember best for films like When Harry Met Sally and You’ve Got Mail, but her essays are her finest work. This book is no exception. 

My childhood went by undocumented

Whenever I see photographs like these, I am struck by the fact that I don’t have a single photograph of me and my father together.

I know that taking photos before the age of digital photography was not as easy as it is today, and it’s true that my parents were divorced when when I was nine years old, but that’s nine years to take and preserve a picture.

What the hell were my parents thinking?

  

A peek into the inbox of an author

One of the goals of my future podcast, at least until my theoretical listeners redefine my goal through their input, will be to offer unpublished writers, readers, and even fellow authors a glimpse into the daily life of an author.

It’s the kind of thing I would like to hear:

Successful authors talking about their careers, their daily routines, the nuts and bolts of the industry and the choices and challenges that they face on a daily and weekly basis.

Occasionally we will get a glimpse of an author’s life through an interview on radio or in print, but never have I been granted access to an author’s life over an extended period of time, probably (and thankfully) because they are too busy writing. I’m simply stupid enough to be willing to waste a few precious hours a week producing a podcast in hopes that someone wants the same thing I want and will care.

Oh, the title of the future podcast will be Author Out Loud, suggested by blogger Heather Clow.   

The first segment of the podcast will focus on the things that have happened in my writing career during the previous week. It will be that ongoing peek into an author’s life that I would like to hear someday. This could include a discussion of the manuscript that I am working on, the promotion for my latest book, a description of a recent author appearance, a lamentation about my latest second place finish at a Moth StorySLAM, the editing and revising that I am doing with my agent or editor, the progress of film and television deals related to my books, the machinations surrounding the rock opera that my friend and I are producing, my recent forays into children's literature, and many, many more topics. A week does not go by that would not be filled with material to discuss.

The collection of email that I received today is a good example of something I might talk about for a minute or two in order to offer a peek into the day-to-day life of an author.

First, an email from a reader in Greece who read the Greek translation of MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND and wrote to me in perfect English.

Next, an email from the publisher of the audio version of MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND informing me that the book is going to be on the Audible homepage for a second week in a row.

Next, an email reader in Singapore writing to tell me that every copy of MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND is reserved for the next seven months in his local library. In addition, the library has 17 copies of UNEXPECTEDLY, MILO, and at the moment, all are checked out.

I should probably move to Singapore. 

Next, three emails requesting author appearances at their various establishments. Two are from booksellers and one is from a charitable organization.

Next, an email from a clever and enterprising PhD student who wants to sit down and chat with me for an hour about writing and opened her email by informing me of a typo in the bio on my blog as a means of getting my attention.

It worked.

Next, an email from a book blogger with a list of ten questions for me to answer as part of an author Q&A that will appear on her blog.

Next, an email containing feedback from one of the readers of my current manuscript.

Finally, an email from a reader in the United States discussing how much the character of Max in MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND reminds her of her son.

All that arrived today, and it doesn’t include any of the communication I received on Twitter.

As you can imagine, I am forced to dedicate a significant chunk of time to responding to email each evening, and while this admittedly takes away from some of the time I have to write, today’s batch of emails were neutral or positive in nature, making it much more enjoyable to respond, and they did not require a great deal from me in terms of time or effort. I also responded to almost every email while my three month old son slept in my lap, so it’s debatable how much actual writing I would have managed in that time anyway. 

The never-ending flurry of communication from readers and others related to my writing has been one of the most surprising aspects of my authorial  career. I never expected readers to reach out to me as often as they do, and the seemingly unusual emails like the ones from the Singapore reader or the PhD student are unusual only in their specificity. Tomorrow I will receive an entirely different but equally unusual set of emails from people I can’t begin to imagine.

I never know what to expect when an email arrives pertaining to my career as an author, and it makes the job persistently interesting, occasionally unwieldy and always surprising.

The big guy is three months old today!

 

Safety warnings ignored at risk to Lamby

Apparently my daughter has chosen to ignore the recent Bumbo seat safety recall. I found this in the living room today:

How do I tell her that the sunglasses won’t make a damn bit of difference if Lamby falls out of that seat?

Impromptu driving range

For someone who loves golf and entrepreneurism as much as me, I thought this was impressive:

While waiting in line for a Moth StorySLAM last week in SoHo, I watched a man set up a driving range in an alley between two building. Using real golf clubs and crushed milk cartons, he charged people for the opportunity to hit the milk cartons down the alley and into a green, plastic bin.

I was standing there for more than 30 minutes and he was never without a customer. 

I don’t think the man is getting rich off his idea, nor do I think it’s scalable to a larger market, but anyone that can bring golf to the city and make a buck at the same time is alright in my book.

   

The lowest forms of human communication

The following are the four lowest forms of human communication, in no specific order.

I’m willing to consider additions to the list, so please feel free to offer me your thoughts.

1.  The demanded apology

2.  The absence of a thank you note complaint

3.  The “I’m angry at you and will therefore write an email rather than speaking to you in person or at least calling you” email

4.  The anonymous critique or attack, in any form

First haircut accomplished.

After allowing our daughter’s hair to grow past her waist, my wife and I decided that it was time for my daughter’s first haircut.

We expected it to go poorly. Our daughter is a slow-to-warm-up child who does not embrace change and tends to avoid new experiences whenever possible. The idea that a stranger would be cutting off pieces of her hair was a concept that we did not think would sit well with Clara.

To be honest, I was dreading this day. If it were up to me, I would’ve allowed Clara to look like Cousin It before taking her to the hair salon.

 

Thankfully, my wife did some research and found a hair salon that specialized in children’s haircuts, and the process was shockingly easy.

In truth, it was fun.

The hairdresser knew exactly what to do to put Clara at ease and allow her to enjoy the experience without fear or anxiety. She was a true expert and professional when it came to cutting children’s hair, and in the end, Clara had as much fun as my wife and me.

If only you could hire a professional for every potentially difficult moment of a child’s life.

A professional time out assigner.

A professional dinnertime nutritionist.

A professional potty trainer.

This last one would be especially valuable in the case of my daughter, who has yet to express a willingness or a readiness to be trained to use the potty. I recently offered someone $2,500 if they would train our daughter to use the potty, and I thought it would have been a bargain.

My wife thought my offer was high and said that $1,500 would have been more appropriate.

Either way, you can see how desperate we’ve become.

And we don’t want to hear that you can’t train a toddler to use the potty until she is ready or that when she is ready, it will happen almost overnight. None of these possibly true statements make us feel better right now, and that is all that counts. 

   

This is not supposed to be a complicated game.

My daughter doesn’t understand tag.

She thinks that the person who is “It” is the one who is supposed to be chased. She points her finger at me, shouts, “You’re it!” and then waits for me to run away so she can chase me.

I have tried and tried to convince her that it’s the other way around, but she just doesn’t get it.

I’m legitimately worried that she will be playing tag with her friends someday and look like a fool.

I have no idea what to do.

Alex Pareene’s takedown of Andy Borowitz’s humor in Salon is a joke.

Alex Pareene wrote a take down of humorist Andy Borowitz that I found so infantile that I felt obliged to write a take down of his take down here, even if it means garnering Pareene more attention than he deserves. Based upon his opening paragraph, I knew that I would despise this piece:

Andy Borowitz makes dad jokes for self-satisfied liberals. If you think Sarah Palin is stupid and Mitt Romney is rich, Andy Borowitz has some jokes that will decidedly not challenge a single one of your prior assumptions!

It’s a terrible opening paragraph. He opens by using two unsupported, undefined, vaguely indiscernible adjectives that I still don’t quite understand.

First, he refers to Borowitz’s jokes as “dad jokes,” and while I may have an inkling of what Pareene is implying by the phrase "dad joke," I am still not entirely certain, and this is the first statement of his piece.

Are his jokes corny? Aged? Obvious? PG?

Actually, this statement comprises the first five words of the piece, and even if I am right in one of my assumptions about the negative use of the word "dad," Pareene does nothing to support the claim for at least three more paragraphs.

Pareene then describes Borowitz’s audience, still in the first sentence, as “self-satisfied liberals.”

I honestly have no idea what this means or why it is bad.

Then he ends his opening paragraph with an exclamation mark, which is something I might expect to see in an essay written by a high school freshman but not a piece in Salon.

Pareene spends the next three paragraphs, which amounts to 36% of the total words in the piece, attacking Borowitz for his sitcom work in the 1980s and 1990s. Why he thinks that Borowitz’s work on The Facts of Life or The Fresh Prince of Bel Air has any bearing on whether or not he is funny twenty and thirty years later is beyond me, but he seems quite angry about the amount of work that Borowitz did in the past and fixates upon it for quite some time. He’s also generous enough to mention that Borowitz was the editor of the Harvard Lampoon, but he only includes this fact parenthetically, as if it is fairly irrelevant in comparison to Borowitz’s shameful work with Will Smith and requires the sequestration of parenthesis lest it be viewed as an important part of Borowitz’s comedic career.

In this same paragraph, Pareene attacks a Borowitz joke from 2o08.

Five years ago.

Does he think that any comedian could stand up to this kind of scrutiny? If we examined every joke told by any comic from the last five years, does Pareene really think that we wouldn’t find more than a few clunkers? I don’t get it. It’s not as if Pareene is even attacking a recent joke. He goes back five years to find one that he doesn’t like. Later on in the piece, he goes back to 2004 to find another joke to fit his argument.

In fact, Borowitz’s has tweeted more than 8,000 jokes in the past three years alone. Pareene cites a grand total of ten of them while criticizing the comedian. That’s .00125 percent of all the jokes Borowitz has attempted, and this only amounts to the jokes he has posted on Twitter, which is the area in which Pareene is directing the brunt of his post-millennial criticism.

What comic doesn’t miss on .00125 percent of his or her jokes?

Then Pareene makes this statement:

I am not a comedy expert, and nothing is less interesting than listening to any self-proclaimed comedy expert expound on comedy, but I thought it was at least generally agreed that the best humor involves the element of surprise.

The best humor involves the element of surprise? This is generally agreed upon? By whom? Had Pareene lost his mind? There are many ways to be funny, and while surprise is certainly an effective one, it is not agreed upon to be the best by anybody.

It’s surprising how stupid Pareene’s statement is, but that doesn’t necessarily make it funny.

Pareene then spends a paragraph criticizing Borowitz for including celebrity culture as a part of his comedic repertoire. Does he expect anyone to believe that Borowitz’s decision to write jokes about Hollywood starlets and reality television buffoons is a signal that Borowitz is a hack? What comedian doesn’t reference celebrity culture in his or her comedy? Even a comedian as hyper-focused on politics as Bill Maher takes advantage of the horrors and stupidity of Hollywood when telling jokes.

Does Pareene really think the world of celebrity culture should be taboo to serious comedians?

Pareene follows this nonsense with claims that Borowitz’s humor is most appropriate for old people, because apparently in Pareene’s estimation, old people suck and aren't funny. In defense of this argument, he cites Borowitz’s appearance on CBS Sunday Morning as evidence that his ideal audience is old people.

Of course, CBS Sunday Morning has also featured comedians like Louis CK, Chris Rock and Sarah Silverman, just to name just a few, so they must suck, too. Right?

Pareene then proposes a formula for creating a Borowitz joke and attempts to create a few of his own, none of which are funny (nor is the Pareene’s formula bit), all the while lacing his piece with more unnecessary exclamation marks and the incredibly stupid double question mark.

Pareene ends his piece by suggesting that Borowitz should work less often, not only for the good of America (yeah, he said America, and I know he used it as an exaggeration, but sometimes exaggeration is so obvious and cliché that it no longer serve as exaggeration), but for Borowtiz’s own good.

He uses a couple extraneous exclamation points here as well.

I guess it wasn’t such a take down after all. In the end, Pareene must like Borowitz a great deal. Apparently he wrote this whole take down as a way of warning Borowitz about the dangers of overexposure and a life spent consumed with too much work and not enough play.

Pareene also states that less Borowitz would be good for his Twitter feed, but apparently Pareene doesn’t understand Twitter.

Rather than writing a hack takedown piece in Salon, just unfollow the guy if you don’t like him. It would be better for you, Alex Pareene.

See? This isn’t a take down of a take down after all. I’m just looking out for you, Alex Pareene.

I mean, for you!

The many faces of Charles Wallace

Personal competition gets stuff done

A post on Time Management Ninja entitled Be More Productive by Making Your Life a Game struck a chord with me. While I do not adhere strictly to the premise of the article, I often transform aspects of my life into a game in order to accomplish more or increase my level of engagement.

Three from this past week:

1. In order to save time, I often challenge myself to complete my shower in 150 seconds or less. I actually count aloud as I shower, and though this may not sound like a lot of time, I’ve found that if I apply myself and not waste a second, I can accomplish this goal with relative ease. The average American shower lasts 8-10 minutes. If I can keep mine under 3 minutes, I gain 5-7 minutes per shower over the average American, and while a shower may be relaxing, I typically have more pressing matters.
   
2. Our two month old son likes to be held in our arms as often as possible, which is nice because when my daughter was his age, she wanted nothing to do with me. The downside, of course, is that I have a ten pound baby in my arms and a long list of goals to accomplish. Rather than waiting until my wife is available to take Charlie, I often challenge myself to complete as many chores as possible with him still in my arms. Emptying the dishwasher has proven to be rather simple. Sweeping and mopping the floor is not too hard at all. Folding laundry is exceptionally difficult but not impossible. It would be easy for me to simply wait until I have some help, but by turning these tasks into baby-laden challenges, I manage to accomplish goals while adding a competitive spin to the chore and taking Charlie along for the ride.
   
3. I entered the grocery store on Wednesday with 12 items on my shopping list. Therefore I gave myself 12 minutes to locate the items and place them in my cart. Since I had never purchased two of these items before and wasn’t sure where they were located, this proved especially difficult. I was forced to run through the store during the last three minutes of the challenge in order to accomplish my goal, but I succeeded with almost 30 seconds to spare, and I did not get sucked into any additional purchases that I did not need.

I play games like this with myself all the time.

Some might say that a more leisurely shower, a few minutes of idle time with my infant son, or a shopping trip that does not require a stopwatch and a last minute sprint down the aisles are more important to a person’s well being than the few minutes that I saved by challenging myself.

I would say that that those people fail to understand a fundamental reality of life:

These minutes add up surprisingly quickly. Five minutes here and ten minutes over the course of a day, week, month or lifetime can quickly equate to hours of additional time to accomplish goals.

In this life, there are people who accomplish a great many things and those who do not. I suspect that those who take leisurely showers,  allow themselves to browse the grocery store for an hour and lack a general sense of urgency are less likely to accomplish great things.

This does not mean that everything that you do must be done with haste and immediacy. If the shower is the one place in your life where you are able to relax and collect your thoughts, spend as much time in there as you need. If you treasure the moments when you can lie beside your infant and stare into his eyes, by all means do so (I can often be found doing this as well). I am speaking more about a person’s general disposition in life.

You are either a person who moves quickly, maintains a sense of urgency and seeks opportunities to recapture lost minutes in the day, or you are not.

If you are the former, I believe that the chances of achieving your goals are much greater.

On my death bed, I suspect that I will not be wishing that I had spent more time in the grocery store or the shower.

The most critical lessons that I teach my students each year

As I prepare to re-enter the classroom next week for another year of teaching, I was thinking about some of the most important lessons that I will attempt to impart on my students in the coming school year. There are too many to even begin to try listing, of course, but there always seems to be a few that become a constant refrain throughout the year.

The following is a list of twelve that came to mind:

_______________________________________________

TWELVE OF THE MOST CRITICAL LESSONS THAT I TEACH TO MY STUDENTS EACH YEAR 

1. One exclamation point. Never more than one regardless of circumstances.

2. Never ever ask a woman if she is pregnant.

3. The world is full of talented people who did nothing with their lives because they didn't try. Effort is everything.

4. If you learn to use you're and your, too, to and two and there, they're and their correctly, you will already be better than half the writers of the world.

5. If you learn to write in complete sentences, you will be better than the other half.

6. Memorization of the multiplication tables is essential if you want to be successful in math. You will fail if you do not memorize them.

7. If you cannot find a good book, you are not trying very hard.

8. Acknowledge blame quickly. Apologize sincerely.

9. Understanding of basic geography will prevent many moments of academic and social embarrassment.

10. Lots of great music was made long before you were born. Don’t be an ageist. Give older music a chance.

11. Excluding anyone from anything for any reason will always make you look like a coward and the biggest jerk in the world.

12. You are the hero of your own story. Act like a hero.

She expects me to read her mind

This morning my daughter was making up a new song about a “twirly swing” at the park. She was in the midst of creation, inventing the lyrics and the melody at that very moment, when she insisted that I sing along.

There was no way for me to know what the words or melody were, since she didn’t actually know them either until they came out of her mouth, yet she became quite angry with me for failing to sing along.

She does this all the time.

It’s one of those few moments when she can be incredibly cute and incredibly annoying at the same time.

Second place sucks

I competed in The Moth’s StorySLAM last night and came in second place, losing to my storytelling hero, Steve Zimmer, by a tenth of a point.

It was actually an honor to compete against to Zimmer, who was exceptionally gracious in his victory, and I should be feeling good about a second place finish after competing against some of the best storytellers I have ever seen last night.

But last night also marks the third StorySLAM in a row that I have placed second, and in each of those second place finishes, I have lost by a tenth of a point.

In addition, I came in second at the most recent GrandSLAM Championship, losing by two-tenths of a point.

It’s starting to annoy me.

That’s not true. It’s starting to enrage me.

I know that I should be pleased with my consistently strong performance and grateful for my good fortune. I have been telling stories at The Moth for just over a year. I have told stories in six StorySLAMs and have placed first or second in five of the six.

I have also told stories in two GrandSLAM Championships and placed second and third.

I should be ecstatic over my early success, especially considering the number of skilled, talented, and experienced storytellers who I compete against on a nightly basis, but instead, I am just angry that I continue to lose by a smidgen, even when I am losing to my hero.  

My only solace:

In the video below, which features Zimmer, he describes himself as being at least as competitive as me and at least as disappointed as me when he loses. Other storytellers have expressed similar sentiments to me in the past. I may be a petulant, bitter loser, but apparently it is par for the course.

Also, at the time of filming, Zimmer had also placed second in three consecutive StorySLAMs, so perhaps there’s hope.

Maybe I’m simply walking a path similar to that of my storytelling hero, finding my way to storytelling glory. It’s a lousy, good-for-nothing path, but perhaps there is a light somewhere at the end.

If so, I can’t see it yet.

But it’s been less than 24 hours since I lost to Zimmer. Maybe I’ll be less annoyed and more appreciative with time.   

Three unique book reviews

The reviews of MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND have been pouring in, and while I will not share all of them with you, I thought that these three were worth a mention for their rather unique characteristics:

The review in which my wife, Elysha, is praised

The review that I appreciate very much but cannot actually understand

The review that includes a picture of a real life imaginary friend

Bookseller love

I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting Stanley Hadsell of Market Block Books in Troy, New York, but he is my hero. Actually, all booksellers are my heroes and heroines, but based upon sales data and anecdotal reports, Stanley hand sells more of my books than any other bookseller on the planet.

By the way, does anyone else think it a little too coincidental that a man with the surname Hadsell became a bookseller who spends his days hand selling books?

I did a signing at Market Block Books a couple years ago, but sadly, it was scheduled for a day when Stanley was not working. I will be returning to the store on September 22 to speak and sign books again, and my first priority will shake Stanley’s hand and thank him for helping readers find my stories

Stanley has started recording some of his book recommendations on video, and this week’s installment includes MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND.

Even though I have never met the man, I knew that he was passionate about books. That passion is on full display in his video:

Forgetfulness

At last night’s book launch, I read a poem by Billy Collins while recommending one of this books of poetry. I also spoke about the importance of listening to Collins read his own poems and the remarkable visuals that have been applied to some of his work.

This is one of my favorites:

My book launch included three very special people

Last night’s book launch at Barnes & Noble was wonderful, and I thank all of my friends and family and fans for their support. We had about one hundred people in attendance to hear me read a smidgen from MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND, tell some stories related to the book, recommend some of my favorite books, and answer some interesting, challenging and probing questions from the audience.

Included in the audience were three former students who were in my first class fourteen years ago. When I taught these three students, I was teaching second grade and they were seven years old. Today they are are preparing to enter their junior year in college, and yet whenever I launch a book or premier a musical or direct a Shakespearean play with my class, they always seem to find a way to be there.

I cannot tell you how much this means to me. 

Brandon was my first most difficult student, so he is also one of my most memorable students of all time. He was a handful to say the least, and he would have been a handful even with a decade of teaching experience under my belt. He was a class clown, a rambunctious boy, a slightly disinterested student and perpetually happy, which made it almost impossible to punish him. No matter what I did to make him suffer and learn his lesson, he would continue to smile. 

Today Brandon is studying to be a surgical physician's assistant and doing great. He has a mature young man who continues to impress me every time I see him. At last night’s launch, I charged the audience to go home and write something and make it a habit that they never stop. Before I had even returned home and paid the babysitter, Brandon had written about something he had overheard that night and sent it to me for my review.

I can’t tell you how overjoyed I was to see it.

If only he had been so quick to complete his homework assignments in second grade.

Liz is the reason that I teach Shakespeare to my students. I was having an especially difficult day in class. No one was listening to my instructions, students were unfocused and loud, Brandon was probably causing trouble, and so in an act of desperation, I shouted, “Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears!” The class went quiet, everyone stared at their wild-eyed teacher, and then little Elizabeth, seven years old at the time, said, “What does that mean?”  I took a deep breath, calmed my nerves and explained that the line came from a play entitled Julius Caesar. Then Liz asked, “What’s the play about?” I began to summarize the plot of the play to the class, and for the first time in what seemed like a week, my students were paying attention to me. Seizing on the moment, I gathered them at my feet and told them the entire story of Julius Caesar and his tragic fall from grace. When I was finished, the class was staring at me in utter fascination. They asked if they could perform the play, and thus my career in children’s theater was born.

Liz was one of my best and brightest students during that first year of teaching, and she remains so today. She is also going to be a junior in college this year, and as expected, she is doing remarkably well.

Allison is one of the few students who I had the pleasure of teaching for two years in a row. After teaching second grade for that first year, I was moved up to third grade and about half a dozen students moved up with me, including Allison. I call them “The Tainted Few.” Allison was a quiet but inquisitive student  who wore the same purple sweatshirt almost every day and never stopped smiling. She has thankfully left that purple sweatshirt behind and is now attending college and studying marketing, though she also wants to pursue a career in set design and lighting. More than just my former student, Allison has become my friend and an informal member of our family. She is now the primary babysitter for our children and a fixture at family events. Clara refers to Allison as her best friend, and I couldn’t imagine a better best friend for her. 

When I began teaching elementary school fourteen years ago, I never expected that three of my tiny second graders, who who were still learning to read and write and behave, would continue to be such an ever-present part of my life. There were many other former students in the audience last night, and each of them mean a great deal to me, but these three former students from my first class own a special place in my heart. They serve as a reminder of who I once was and who I am today, and they have taught me that the bond that forms between a student and a teacher can last long after the students  have left the classroom and moved onto bigger and better things.

It’s not something they tell you about you when you’re in college, studying to become a teacher, but they really should.

The paycheck isn’t great, but the benefits are incalculable.

Pub day outfit

I came home from the gym this morning and found my little boy wearing this pub day celebratory outfit.

First she hires someone to mow the lawn for me, and then she does this.

My wife is truly the best.