"Top 5 Christmas Movies"

      "Everything you need to know about life can be found in the movies," I heard that in a movie. I think it was Grand Canyon and I'm pretty sure Steve Martin said it. I'm sure teachers and professors everywhere would dispute this assertion--I would. Having said that, I believe that everything we love about Christmas and the Holiday season is reinforced by movies about the magic of Christmas. Here are my top 5 Christmas movies along with some elaboration-they don't have to be yours, but they are all mine:

1. A Christmas Carol (1951) with Alistair Sim

     "A good story bears repeating," they say. I'm an English teacher so this one gets to be first. Whenever someone says that certain pieces of literature are out-of-date, irrelevant, and insignificant I want to ask them, "Do you celebrate Christmas?" Our seasonal traditions stem from a time when people didn't have movies, television or the Internet, but they did have literature. 

     Washington Irving's Bracebridge Hall and A History of New York along with Clement Moore's The Night Before Christmas (originally titled A Visit from St. Nicholas) both brought the magic of Christmas to the masses. Sherlock Holmes even has a Christmas story--"The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle." 
      Those are all great stories, but Dickens hits it out of the park. There is a legend that Charles Dickens was so inspired while writing A Christmas Carol that his children would sit outside the door to his study and listen to him laugh and cry as he recited  parts of the story. Redemption is a powerful thing.
    The only thing that feels as good as being forgiven is forgiving someone. I believe this is a "divine spark" that God has blessed us with.
     "You're very good at apologizing," Beth once told me.
     "I should be. I've had plenty of practice."
     Forgiveness is at the heart of A Christmas Carol. One of the things I like about this version is that we get a sense of just how deep the regrets of Scrooge run. His hesitation and body language before he walks into his nephew's house make it obvious that he's thinking, "I wouldn't blame Fred if threw my grouchy old ass out of here quick as Jack Robinson." 
    Fred doesn't let him down and old Ebeneezer becomes the best uncle ever. I also think the George C. Scott and Patrick Stewart versions convey Scrooge's deep regret in homage to Alastair Sim's performance.

2. It's a Wonderful Life (1946)

      This is one of the best movies ever made and like #1 it's set on Christmas Eve and the magic of humanity abounds. Throughout my life I have learned that two of the most important things are also two of the easiest to forget. 
      One, we need each other, and two, we just don't know how much impact we have on others. George Bailey feels his own lonely nightmare and then he gets a glimpse into just how important he is to others. 
    This movie runs the emotional gambit, but I always feel just a little envious of Jimmy Stewart's George Bailey. He is allowed to see just how significant he has been to others. 
    It's kind of like sneaking into your own funeral a la Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn. Hopefully, some of you knew that was the reason for Clarence's "parting gift" to George. Yeah, English Teacher!
    Carson and I were watching one Christmas. Kit (that's what I call him) was very young, maybe 6 or 7. He was having a little trouble following so he asked me a question.
    "If George Bailey is in so much trouble why are all those people at his house having a party?"
     "They came," I told him, "because, George is in trouble."
     "I don't get it," he persisted.
     "It's what friends do," I began, but I had to pause because my lower lip had begun to quiver. I refocussed and tried to continue. 
    "You see, that's what friends do. They heard George was in trouble and like Uncle Billy said 'they didn't ask any questions they just heard George was in trouble and they came running' to help him. Because that's what George would have done for them."
     I think I'm going to move on to the next movie now. I'm gonna have to take this new laptop back to Best Buy the screen just got misty.

3. Miracle on 34th Street (1947)

    Who is Santa Claus? Edmund Gwenn! That's who! This fact is supported not only by Mr. Macy, but the United States Postal Service and the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences as well. The guy got an Oscar for his portrayal of Kris Kringle and in my book that means you're Santa Claus. 
    Maureen O'Hara and Natalie Wood are two of the toughest Hollywood dames  ever and by the end of the film they believe. With the help of John Payne they "get it." 
    This time of year we see a lot of signs and digital posts with this one word:

"BELIEVE."

     The magic of this movie is that it reminds us that we are right to believe. And I will argue that with my dying breath. Like Maureen O'Hara says, "Faith is believing in things when common sense tells you not to." Words to live by.

4. A Christmas Story (1983)

     I wish I had gone to see this in a movie theater when it came out, but like most people I discovered it on VHS and TV broadcast. Perhaps we all owe a tip-of-the-hat to Ted Turner and his networks for planting this movie in our  collective psyches.
     I don't even want to know how many hours I've spent watching this movie. Guess how much sleep I'll lose over that--that's right DONUT! 
    We can all relate to Ralphie's Christmas quest. Yes, it is "better to give than to receive", but isn't that expression a bit of a paradox? Somebody has to want or need something in order for us to be compelled to give, right? Sometimes that want is so pure that it supersedes one's own ocular safety.
      It would be easy to list 150 or so of the best lines from this movie, but I'll leave you with one suggestion and one question. 
      I suggest you check out the source material, In God We Trust: All Others Pay Cash by the late Jean Shepherd. According to imdb.com, he inspired (in part) the writing of Jack Kreouac and Sidney Lumet's Network. 
      Here's my question, "Could there be a more overlooked national treasure than Darren McGavin?" One Friday afternoon, on the last day of school before Christmas Break, I was celebrating, in a pub (can you believe that), with my colleagues. Mike Cronley, our chief custodian, spontaneously rose to his feet. He hoisted his glass skyward and proclaimed, "To the late, great Darren McGavin! The fiercest furnace-fighter in Northern Indiana!"
      We all rose as one and the sound of our glasses clinking echoed throughout the bar.

5. Christmas Vacation (1989)

     Just as #4 above reflected the way we saw Christmas as kids. This film shows how we as adults yearn for the way we remember the Christmases of our past. Let me clarify, we yearn for the way we remember them. In fact, our memories are most likely not exactly as things were, but that's okay, because it's the spirit and the flavor of memory that matters the most. 
     Chevy Chase was born to play Clark Griswold and Randy Quaid was born for the role of Cousin Eddie. Here are my top 5 moments from one of the funniest movies ever made:

• "The little lights up top aren't twinkling, Clark." 

       "Thanks for noticing, Art."

• "Eddie, if I woke up with my head sewn to the carpet I couldn't be any more surprised than I am right now."
• JELLY OF THE MONTH CLUB! "That's a gift that keeps on giving the whole year, Clark."

       "Right you are, Edward!"

• "He's got a little bit of Mississippi leg-hound in him. If he starts in on you, best to just let him finish."
• "HALLELUJAH! Where's the Tylenol?"

     As always, thanks again for stopping by. Happy Holidays, Happy viewing and  Merry Christmas to all. 

"The Heisman Trophy: Old School or New School?"

     What does it mean to win a Heisman Trophy? This question is being dissected, answered, and argued as never before. People, along with this writer, are asking, "Should Jameis Winston receive the Heisman Trophy while the spectre of alleged sexual assault charges circle around him like foreboding buzzards?"

       Let us begin with this thought. An accused individual is supposed to be considered innocent until proven guilty. Heisman voters are under no such obligation. Personally, I consider the "presumption of innocence" a fundamental building block in a democratic society that claims to hold documents like the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence sacred. Perhaps, to some, this is an 'old school' way of thinking. This leads to another question. "Can we award the Heisman Trophy to the best college football player in the land and dismiss all the 'old school' elements that are associated with an award that has been given away annually since 1935?"

      Posted on the Heisman Trophy website is the Heisman Trust Mission Statement. It reads, in part, as follows:

The Heisman Memorial Trophy annually recognizes the outstanding college football player whose performance best exhibits the pursuit of excellence with integrity. Winners epitomize great ability combined with diligence, perseverance, and hard work. The Heisman Trophy Trust ensures the continuation and integrity of this award. The Trust, furthermore, has a charitable mission to support amateur athletics and to provide greater opportunities to the youth of our country. Our goal through these charitable endeavors is for the Heisman Trophy to symbolize the fostering of a sense of community responsibility and service to our youth... 

     This mission statement clearly says that character and 'integrity' are tied to the recipient of this award. The trustees of the trophy seem to be saying that any athlete that earns it should set an example for the young people of this country. That seems like a nice idea to me.

     This may seem prudish to some. I don't know the exact number, but it's a safe bet that quite a few Heisman winners never received degrees from  their respective universities. All young people make bad decisions. When I was in college I made plenty and some were more costly than others. Fortunately, for me, my mistakes were never fodder for talk radio or the Internet. Jameis Winston, his accuser, and their respective families are going through the darkest days of their lives. It's a tragedy and there will be no winners. Sadly, I think that will have to include the Heisman Trophy.

     College athletics has never been pure as new fallen snow, but the Heisman Trophy is a touchstone that takes us back to a time that seems more clean, more earnest and more heroic. The first decade of winners belonged to that group of people that Tom Brokaw calls our "Greatest Generation." People that learned about sacrifice and hardship during the Great Depression and World War II.

     One such person was Nile Kinnick Jr.. He was the 1939 Heisman recipient from Iowa. He was briefly a WWII veteran. Kinnick became a Naval aviator, but was killed in a plane crash in 1943. In the book After the Glory Heismen, Dave Newhouse described him as "...a talented football hero and a tribute to the Great American Dream."

     Newhouse's book included this excerpt from a letter that Nile Kinnick wrote to his parents just days before his death. Demonstrating a wisdom and sensitivity well beyond his 25 years, he wrote:

This task which lies ahead is adventure as well as duty, and I am anxious to get at it. I feel better in mind and body than I have for 10 years, and am quite certain that I can meet the foe confident and unafraid...Truly we have shared to the full life, love and laughter. Comforted in the knowledge that your thought and prayer go with us every minute, and sure that your faith and courage will never falter no matter the outcome...

     It's understandable that many may view my perspective as naive and out of date, but I think most would concede that the feats of Heisman winners were often epic and heroic. This would include Army recipients like Pete Dawkins, Glenn 'Mr. Inside' Davis, and Doc 'Mr. Outside' Blanchard, all three lived up to the Heisman legacy. Roger Staubach's defeat of Notre Dame would be one such moment. It took Navy more than 40 years to repeat the achievement. The magic of Doug Flutie's arm as he led Boston College in a win over the powerful Miami Hurricanes is another. I will never forget the first time I saw the combination of speed and power that Bo Jackson demonstrated, these moments are the "stuff of dreams."

     A friend of mine recently asked me, "Do you think the word 'great' is over used?" I agreed with him that it is, but the Heisman trophy connotes greatness.

     The Heisman Trophy resonates with a greatness that goes well beyond the football field and the college campus. It would be a terribly sad thing if character and integrity were separated from the trophy. If there's no truth to this then why did Johnny Manziel's behavior over the past year draw so much attention. As I watched his antics, I thought of Victor Hugo's quote, "Fame and popularity are the  crumbs of greatness."

      I'm big on quotes. Robert Browning wrote, "...a man's reach should exceed his grasp--or what's a heaven for?" For me, the elusive 'greatness' of the Heisman trophy lies in the combination of athletics, academics, character, and integrity. If you remove one of those elements then you need to call it something else.

      Sadly, we live in a world where technology so permeates our existence that the most embarrassing and intimate moments of the human experience are often made public for all. I agree that it's not fair, but the decisions of Jameis Winston whether intentional, unintentional or consensual cast a shadow. It's  too bad we know so much about Mr. Winston's encounter.  I  really do wish him well, but I also understand the "old school" voters that won't cast their Heisman ballots for him because I would do the same. When a young man stands up to receive a Heisman trophy it would be nice to think that he knows how to treat the daughters, the sisters, and the future mothers of his fellow man with respect. Perhaps Jameis Winston will return to Florida State and play as he did this year and show us that he is truly worthy of the greatness that should be associated with the trophy. I truly hope that he does.

My Thanksgiving Top 5

       This will be the first Thanksgiving since I was in College that I'll have the entire week off and I'm really looking forward to Thanksgiving Day this year. I guess I always do. What guy doesn't? 

     It seems a bit of a  paradox that a day set aside for giving thanks can be loved for such selfish reasons. I have much to be thankful for, but for this blog I am choosing to focus on the wonderful self-indulgent pleasures of the fourth Thursday in November. 

5. Seizing the Day

     Thanksgiving just feels like a holiday the whole livelong day. If you don't have to travel then it's especially enjoyable.  Old Mr. Nickels enjoys the fact that he has finally reached the age where on Thanksgiving people come to him. One of the few benefits of old age. 

      Getting up early and getting that first cup of coffee is one of the best feelings. I put on my comfy green robe and then I walk out into the crisp morning air to get my copy The Indianapolis Star.    

     The cold air wakes me up. I walk back inside and turn on the gas fireplace. I sit down and find the Sports page.  Then I cuss for about 5 minutes because I have to get back up to find my reading glasses.

     Once they're found I return to my chair and see what time the football games begin and  exactly who will be playing against the Lions and the Cowboys.

4. The Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade  

      

     As a child, I would watch the entire thing from beginning to end. We all did because we couldn't wait to see "you-know-who" in the caboose/sleigh--wink! wink! Mom would be in the kitchen, where she had been since 4:00 am working to create her perennial perfect feast. Never wanting Mom to feel left out, we would update/annoy her constantly with bellows from the living room. 

      -"Mom, they're singing that song from Oliver that you're always humming!" --My mom has always loved show tunes.

     -"Hey, Mom! There's that guy from your soap opera."

     -"Cool! Look, Mom! It's Underdog!"

     -"IT'S HIM! IT'S HIM! Hurry Mom! Come here! " (We couldn't let her miss the arrival of 'The Big Guy').

      Mom would usually stop what she was doing and drag her baking powder and cooking flour covered carcass into the room and glance at the TV for 30 seconds.   Her hair was usually mussed and her apron was stained and faded. Sometimes she would be holding that giant "eye-dropper" looking thing she used to baste the turkey or she would have a giant bowl of potatoes that she was mashing. Always, Mom would acknowledge our requests  and momentarily praise  our astute parade commentary. She would then go back to work. We let her because we knew that she was working on a masterpiece.

     Now, I look at the parade for no more than 25 or 30 minutes. Which is good for about two balloons, a couple of marching bands, maybe one show tune, and two or three minutes of cheesy celebrity banter--just enough to make me reconsider purchasing a firearm. I still like to catch a glimpse of 'the man-in-the-red suit,' but I usually mutter to myself, "Well, he's no Edmund Gwenn."  

3. The Meal Itself

     Is it just me or did the meal get shorter? As a kid, you whined and tried to steal bites while waiting for the signal to 'sit down & dig in.' This "meal rapidity" seemed to have happened somewhere between the ages of 25 & 45. It's a bit of a mystery. Perhaps it's because over the last 10 years I've deep fried the bird and I've also made many honest attempts to carve said bird--a skill I've still not mastered. I wish I had a quarter for all the YouTube videos I've watched on the subject. Fortunately, my carving efforts still yield the first turkey bites to me, so who cares?

      Maybe the brevity of the meal has something to do with the fact that I grew up in a time when a child was required to excuse himself or herself from the table. My cousins and I would sit at our card table and debate the proper length of seat time to appease the adults' draconian rules of etiquette. These rules seemed to vary from house to house.

2. Leftovers

        Shopping for Thanksgiving always includes purchasing items that will prolong the feast. These may include, but are not limited to:

-Whipped  Cream (canned or tub is a debate for another time)

-Rye bread (Dark pumpernickel or Beefsteak brand will do)

-Swiss Cheese

-Lettuce

-Pepperoncini rings

-Durkee's Famous Sandwich & Salad Sauce

     These essential items all serve to enhance that 11:00 pm craving for a Turkey sandwich. A turkey sandwich followed by a slice of pecan or pumpkin pie is one of life's greatest pleasures. Yes, the chances are good that one of my plates will see both types of pie and it may well be at the same time. 

1. Football (previously mentioned, but always worth repeating)

      Thanksgiving is the only day of the year that I will watch 75% or more of a Lion's game. I have so many great memories of watching these games with the Clarks. For me, football was how I learned to  converse with men when there just isn't that much to  talk about. This year, like most years, I'm hopeful that "America's Team" will lose--it doesn't matter to whom. 

       The Friday and Saturday after Thanksgiving are set aside for the big rivalry games in college football. Michigan/Ohio State, Alabama/Auburn,  and Indiana/Purdue (yes, this one has lost some luster) just to name a few. I must digress just a moment. The fact that the Aggies & the Longhorns no longer play one another just seems terribly wrong. Don't you think?

     A whole day set aside for TV, feasting and football is a beautiful thing.

     Once again, I appreciate you taking the time to stop by and reading to the end. One last question &  please pardon a blunt Irishmen, but exactly where are we drinking Wednesday night?

Don't forget the Durkee's.  

Will Write for Food 11/8/13

        Anyone out there need a "barely forty-something"/ fifty year old?

      I've recently made a life-altering decision. At the end of the 2013-2014 school year I will no longer be teaching. Perhaps this is a shock to some. To others, it might just be a slight raise of one or two eyebrows. Some of you may say to yourself, "Thank God! At least now I don't have to listen to him gripe about that job while he's enjoying all those breaks teachers get."

     I won't attempt to speak for anyone, but I will be happy to hear your thoughts, advice and I'm willing to answer any question. I'm also taking job offers while waiting to hear from Ron Howard's people or Steven Spielberg's people or...-you get the idea. Be warned though, my answer may well sound convoluted and contradictory. It's also a safe bet that said answer will change over time.

       "There are a hundred reasons," I have told my colleagues, "and there's a flip-side to every one of them."

       They all nod their heads and say, "I know what you mean."

        All the colleagues that I've told seem to understand. They congratulate me. Some voice their envy in funny ways and some really kind ones tell me that they'll miss me. I appreciate that and I will miss them too, but I also know that eventually I'll be just a ghostly memory. Forgive the momentary vanity, but I do wonder what they'll say when I'm no longer a member of the Lawrence Central High School English department.

     "Nickels? Oh yeah, that guy that used to teach in room 134, right?"

     "I thought it was 132. Any way, he was funny."

     "Quiet and moody sometimes, but he always had a good movie if you needed it."

    "Remember how his seniors would laugh about the way he'd get all worked up at the end of Beowulf."

     "Oh yeah, that part where Beowulf battles the dragon and all the thanes run. He would go on and on about how cool it was the way Wiglaf stood his ground and rebuked the 'shirkers'."

     

     I always liked teaching Beowulf in late October. I would tell people that my Beowulf lecture was what got us to the football state finals twice. We won one and we lost one. Those were fun seasons and I enjoyed being on  the chain gang for home games. Carson, my son, was a ball boy. Old Kit loves LC football and the guys were always nice to him. I enjoyed  the fact that when he watched the Bears play the only colors he saw were Maroon & Gray. He'll be a freshman next year and his allegiance will  shift fully to his Noblesville Millers, as it should. I still have a hard time with those God-awful black & gold colors, but that's a personal problem.

     Let's shift the focus back to my 'life-altering decision'. Shall we? People have a right to speculate about the reasons for my decision and like I said I can come up with a multitude of them. Some are negative, but not all of them. I welcome your thoughts, but I would add one polite proviso. I prefer not focus on politics or negative aspects of the past 25 years.   I've done my best to care more about people than politics and I want to leave teaching  on a positive note because I can. It's time for a change and while I'd like to leave it at that there's an obligation to the truth even though it may be a little painful. The following are, in my opinion, the 3 most salient questions about my decision to start this new chapter of my life.

1. Was it the kids?
      For years, I have told people 95 to 98% of the kids I've worked with are good kids. I still think that's true. It's not entirely their fault that they didn't learn the same manners and behavioral boundaries that I did. Was I disrespected daily? The answer is yes. Welcome to the wonderful world of public education. And while I've 'pissed & moaned' more than my fair share, I also think I earned the respect of some good, young people and that's something I can live with.  So, if we look at my decision as a math problem then the negative behavioral issues with kids are worth around 2 to 5 % of the equation--I'm gonna live with that too.
      Let me tell you about some kids that carried a lot more weight in my decision. There are two boys that sleep down the hall from me and a young married couple that live with my 3 grandchildren just a little bit down the road. They were significant factors in this decision. They deserve a better father and grandfather.  They deserve someone that isn't miserable and dissatisfied so much of the time. Don't get me wrong, I'm not totally burnt out and bitter (here comes the painful part), but I can see myself getting there. That's how I know it's time to get out. I should add that the kids that  occupy the desks in room 134 deserve better too.
    Years ago it seemed to me that the best thing about being a teacher was that it felt like there were a number of ways to do the job well and feel good about it. Sadly, that's changed (for many reasons & some of them are personal), but please don't feel sorry for me. I learned years ago that teaching is a profession in which you seldom get to see the fruits of your labor. I've been okay with that for a very long time.
     That doesn't mean that I haven't had my share of resonant and heartwarming moments. I would say I've had more than I deserve. Just this afternoon I attended a ceremony for a young student athlete that humbly, gratefully and articulately announced to his school, family, friends and teammates that he would be attending Missouri University on a football scholarship. He personally invited Carson and me to attend. Definitely an honor that made my week. I also remember another young football player that was not nearly as talented as the one that I observed today, but  what I remember is that every time he left my classroom he would say, "All right, Mr. Nickels." Little things mean a lot. I'm grateful for all those moments. They are more than enough.

2. What will you miss most?
     This is an easy one. People are what I will miss most--kids are people too. During all those hours I sat in classrooms being taught, lectured and prepared about what my life as a teacher would entail no one prepared me for the depth of support that I would receive from my colleagues. All the venting, laughter and the thousands of little ways that we supported one another meant more to me than I can say.
     When I say, "colleagues", I'm not just talking about the people I teach with. Colleagues include, but are not limited to, custodians, secretaries, building & grounds maintenance workers, cafeteria staff, parents (the ones that "get it") and the friendly bus drivers that wave to you when your standing outside in January. I still stand by the advice that I always gave new teachers. "Teaching colleagues and administrators will come and go. Get to know your support staff, secretaries, custodians, maintenance staff and cafeteria staff. They run the show and they know what's going on. If you ever want to ask a question, but you're worried about looking stupid then go to them. They'll take good care of you if you take care of them."
     English teachers debate word meanings and semantics endlessly. For example, most people might think the words 'colleagues' and 'peers' are synonymous. I don't. I consider everyone I work with a colleague, but I would never say that I am a 'peer' to all of them. It's been my honor to work with and observe some of the most dedicated and talented individuals that  have ever stood in front of a class of young people. Being aligned with so many great educators has been one of my greatest achievements. I'd rather say good-bye to teaching than lose that.
     There are also quite a few sounds and sensations that I'll miss as well. The following are just a few:

• The laughter of teenagers (believe it or not)
• A student saying, "Oh, I get it," or "Have a nice weekend, Mr. Nickels."
• Crowds cheering at sporting events
• The cool, crisp air of a Friday night in the fall 
• My students singing, acting, dancing, and playing instruments

3. What's next?

     Another easy question to answer. I'm not sure. The whole proposition is scary and exciting at the same time. Perhaps you haven't noticed, but I'm big on quotes. Here's one that I keep repeating to myself, "There'a a lot to talk about, but nothing to worry about."
      I'm filling out online applications and checking out career websites. I would like something in the public sector. A job that allows me to serve others. I've applied to some hospitals and universities. I've always been interested in the media.  I'm also spending quite a bit of time researching alternative careers for English teachers and forty-somethings--I won't be 50 until April.
     "Encore career" is a new buzzword I've learned. As I said earlier I'm open to suggestions, constructive criticism and advice. I also spend a fair amount of time thinking about the following "dream jobs":

• Groundskeeper at the University of Notre Dame
• Groundskeeper at Indiana University
• A front office job with the Boston Red Sox or a job with the grounds crew
• Novel and/or freelance writing (take another look at the title)

     For now I'm just trying to end this school year on a good note. I feel very grateful for all the things that have come my way. I'm most grateful for Beth. Her love and support have given me the courage to make this change. Thanks, Honey. Any spare thoughts & prayers you can send her way would be appreciated. She's totally supportive, but this kind decision doesn't come without a fair amount of trepidation. 
     Like Frank McCourt said, "I am blessed among men."
    Thanks again for stopping by and reading it all. Did I mention that I'm listening to job offers? 

     

Speedway High School Class of 1983 30th Reunion Memorial Tribute/Invocation 9/14/13

TO ANY READERS: This was a memorial tribute & invocation I was asked to write & give for our 30th reunion. I'm not sure why such a solemn task was entrusted to me? I guess that's what can happen when people drink at organizational meetings. I thought people that weren't there might like to read it.  As always, thanks for stopping by.

SHS  30th REUNION TRIBUTE/INVOCATION/PRAYER

NOTE TO SELF:

Welcome Everyone & Acknowledge US Military Vets (CLASSMATES & SPOUSES, DATES, SERVERS, etc.)-

 

Remembering our classmates:

·         Kip Armstrong

·         Eddie Bodimer

·         Kenny Bruner

·         Doug Dean

·         Paul Dinkel

·         Brad Foster

·         Lisa Fritch

·         Bob Howard

·         Rob Jones

·         Anthony Pardue

·         Pam Thomas

 

(Moment of Silence)

           

            Their absence saddens us, but we’re here for the magic of memories.  Hopefully, we can remember them sans the pain of loss. May we find solace when we remember them and when we remember how much they enriched our lives. They were our friends, classmates, teammates, fellow performing artists, and they were more.

 I would not be so arrogant as to presume that I could adequately speak to their memories for all of you here, but I humbly ask that tonight we do speak of them. Let them live again in our memories, feel them in your smiles, speak their names and let them hear our laughter. Those things are the essence of life and that is where our good friends dwell. We should all be so lucky someday.

 

Remembering our teachers:

·         -Mrs. Leah Abrams

·         -Mr. John Bainbridge

·         -Mr. Paul Guernsey

·         -Mrs. Phyllis Hughes-Stevens

·         -Mr. Morris Pollard & Mrs. Bonnie Pollard

·         -Mr. James Rollins

·         -Mr. Clyde Sallee

·         -Mr. Robert Wise

 

(Moment of Silence)

            I would like to think that most of us view good teachers as special people—probably because I’m a teacher.

Currently, I teach juniors & seniors at Lawrence Central High School-GO BEARS! Yes, I’m one of those obnoxious people that won’t allow you to start a sentence with a conjunction or end a sentence with a preposition because those are things that I will not ‘up with put.’

Please forgive me, but this tribute will be a bit more subjective and personal. Early in my career, I had the honor of working with most of these very special people. And while I may have allowed myself to think of some of them as colleagues, thinking of me as one of their peers is unconscionable.

I hope you’ll forgive me for being  presumptuous, but I decided to write a brief thank you letter to our former mentors on behalf of the class of 1983.

 

Dear Teachers,

          We hope you look down upon us tonight and that you are able to see some of the fruits of your labors. I think you all deserve at least that much. I did not personally benefit from each of you as teachers, but as I reflect back on my years at Speedway, my teaching career and my overall existence. I know that you contributed to helping all of us along on our respective life journeys.

          To Mrs. Abrams, those two summers I worked with you at the high school were great. You taught me about how to show “tough love” with kids who often need it the most especially when they deserve it the least.

          To Mr. Bainbridge, thank you for encouraging me both as a student and as an employee at SHS. You were a great boss and  a good friend.

          To Mr. Guernsey, years ago you were on the cutting edge with computer math—what Doug Linville affectionately called “Moo Math with Mr. Guernsey.”

          To Mrs. Hughes, another English teacher, thank you for putting up with me as a truly sophomoric sophomore in study hall. I’ve used that same 1,000 yard stare you used on me many, many times with my own students.

          To Mr. Pollard, thanks for all the “ornery” jokes at lunch & making a call to one of the deans at IUPUI so that I could take a summer class that would keep me on my academic schedule. Forgive me, Morris, I don’t have the time or words to thank you adequately for all the other things you did for me and my classmates. Give Bonnie a hug for me.

          To Mr. Rollins, thanks for giving me my first real teaching job at the old Lincoln Middle School & for believing in me too—it meant a lot. I wish you could have heard all the people at your funeral services that said they didn’t always like you, but they were grateful to have known you, play for you or have been taught by you.

          To Mr. Sallee, who like Mr. Pollard was a member of the Greatest Generation.  We thank you for your long years of service and for making Coach Taphorn end practice at a decent hour.

          To Mr. Wise, thanks for teaching me that kindness, compassion and a love for music & the arts were the greatest of strengths. I doubt that I will ever meet anyone that has a more gentle soul.

          We hope you’re all listening tonight and thanks for all the time you spent seeking to  understand teenagers. I know it wasn’t always easy or fun, but we thank you for doing it with style and grace.

 

Sincerely,

 

The Class of 1983

 

 

INVOCATION: (please join me in giving thanks)

Heavenly Father, we thank you for this night of reunion in a place that honors military service. We ask that you bless all former & current military personnel. Please also bless all here & the hands that have prepared this food along with those that will be taking care of us tonight. May the food nourish our bodies and may the drinks refresh our spirits. Finally, Heavenly Father, please continue to watch over us & bless our absent friends—those who could not join us & those who dwell in your house. In your name we pray. AMEN

 

 

 

Celebrating a Life Well Lived & Giving Thanks

   

8/18/2013

        I went to Larry Clark's funeral today. Most of the people that I grew up with in Speedway know either Mark, Mike, or Susie Clark. Their father died this past Monday morning. He was a good man. That sounds trite and inadequate, but he really was. He was a good father, a loving husband, a veteran, and a successful business man. Larry was all these things and so much more.

       He was funny. He loved to tell goofy jokes. He told the same ones a lot, but that was okay. He seemed to get such joy out of telling them that no one minded. They weren't squeaky clean and they were seldom politically correct, but that was more than okay too. 

      Larry had his own style of delivery. He had a deep voice and after he told the joke he would smile and chuckle to himself inaudibly. He got so much satisfaction out of making others laugh and smile. It was a pleasure to be around him. The punchline was always worth the ride. 

     Larry was a native of the Detroit area and he was a true Tigers Fan--hopefully he won't mind a Red Sox fan writing this blog about him. He told us stories about the Tigers. He told us he saw an unassisted triple-play once. I remember the first time he mentioned a guy named Al Kaline I scoffed. "That's not a real guy's name." He told me about when the Tigers played the Yankees and  how Yogi Berra would talk to the fans when he was catching. On one occasion the umpire threatened to "run" Yogi if he didn't stop. Some fans kept trying to talk to him. One fan finally called out, "Can't you hear  us, Yogi?" Yogi shook his head no.

     Larry also made a pretty good pot of stew and he was  an avid fisherman, but what I remember most about him was that he had a quiet, steady likability. He almost always greeted me the same way.       

      I would walk into the living room and he would say, "Mike Nickels." There was something about the way way he said it. It's hard to put into words, but it felt like he hadn't said it since the last time he  had seen me and he was happy that he could say it again. At any rate, that's how it made me feel and I liked that about him.

        I could write several blogs about all the things I liked about Larry, but I want this blog to be more than just my "Ode to Larry."

       This is also my way of thanking the Clarks, the Bopps, the Suches, the Schaechers, and the Osburns for being so damn good to me. I met the Clarks when I was about 11 or 12. I'll be 50 this coming April. If someone had told me 4 decades ago that the relatives of Mike and Mark Clark would be my second family I don't know that I would have believed them.  They taught me so much and a lot of it was about myself

My family was pretty dug in on the West side of Indianapolis and  I knew that my parents had graduated from Washington High School in 1956. They taught me of the significance Washington High School and what life on the West side was all about. A lot of this came from Eddie Bopp, his wife Regina, and their parents. Eddie is Anita Clark's nephew and he had been a player on the Washington High School basketball team that won the 1965 state title. They did that and so much more. 

         As the years went by I spent more and more time with them. I spent many Sunday afternoons with these good people. They treated me as one of their own. Earning their love and respect meant the world to me. This was especially true during the late 1970's and early 1980's. 

My parents were divorcing and while I never felt unloved there were many times I didn't want to be at home amongst my own family. The Clarks, Bopps, and  Suches gave me what B'rer Rabbit called a "laughin' place". The interesting thing was that I was not the only one that felt this way. I know that there were others that they embraced and welcomed. 

       My favorite memories were Thanksgiving and Christmas day afternoons. Hours spent eating, watching football, playing games, laughing at jokes and stories, and great conversations about movies made my life richer. 

        I would usually get to Thelma and Ed's or Anita and Larry's around two or three. I was never hungry when I arrived, but their persistent concern would eventually wear me down.

        "Are you hungry, Mike?" Anita Clark would say.

        "Get yourself a plate, Mike," Thelma "Aunt Sis" Bopp would tell me.

        "There's plenty of food. Have a plate," Sunifta "Nifty" Such would instruct.

        "Oh, just have a plate!" Regina Bopp would admonish.

       I would usually relent and grab a plate or one of these sweet ladies would make one for me. I would sit down, eat and catch up with the women folk. Then I would get up and go into another room where all the guys were and the whole process would repeat itself. 

      "Mike Nickels," Larry Clark would say as if he was announcing my presence to the others. "You hungry?" he would add.

      "Get a plate," Uncle Ed would say.

      "Plenty of food," George Such would tell me.

      "Eat something, Nickels!" Eddie would order.

      And again, I would do as I was told by the benevolent elder statesmen of this clan that had allowed me to worm my way into their midst. 

      Thelma, Ed, George, and 'Nifty' all preceded Larry into heaven. He gets to converse with them and it's hard not to be  just a little envious of that.

      Thanks again for stopping by and staying until the end.

Memories of Mort

    

     This week I had to say good-bye to my friend, Mort. Mort is a dog, a Basset Hound to be specific. I am a little surprised about how much he is on my mind. I guess it's because he was my dog. There's no question that it was a hard thing to do, but like most difficult decisions it was one that had to be made. He had begun to snap at kids and what at first seemed to be a random behavior became more frequent and unacceptable.

      My son, Carson, is an extremely social 12-year-old 7th grader. Over Christmas break it felt like we lived in a frat house for middle-schoolers. We also have 3 young grandchildren and we love for them to visit. Mort's snapping seemed to become more frequent so we found another home for him. He is in a quieter, less active home with a really nice guy that loves dogs and can focus a lot of love and attention on Mort.

     Mort deserves this because 85-95% of the time he's a good dog. That is my favorite and strongest memory of Mort. It is also the reason I was able to accept the fact that he needed to live with someone else.  Our home was just too stressful for him and I didn't want people to think of him as a bad dog. Let me add that Mort was a "good dog", but he was not perfect.

     I keep listening for the click-clacking of his nails on our hardwood floors, the jingle of his tags as he shakes himself awake, the wining noise he made when he wanted to be let out, and the deep yawp of his bark when he was ready to come in. I think it will take me a while to get used to the quiet spaces that have replaced his movements. I also miss the way he would hover around me whenever I was home--that is when he wasn't sleeping on  a couch or bed somewhere. Thankfully, I have the following memories to fill those gaps of stillness and silence:

The Loyal Hound

     One time the boys, Mort and I spent the night at my Mom's house. It was a Friday night and I went out to run an errand. When I got back my mom told me that he had lain by the front door and whimpered until I came back. It made me think of Argus, Odysseus's dog. Odysseus returns after his 20 year odyssey and Argus is the only one to recognize him. He licks his master's hand and dies at his feet. I think I'll name my next dog Argus.

Dispenser of Karma

     One recent New Year's we hosted a party with another couple. There were a number of couples we met that night. One couple brought these really good bratwurst sandwiches. They were quite tasty and I was hoping to have seconds, but this couple had another party to attend and they took their sandwiches with them. I don't know if it was a breach of party etiquette or not, but let's just say that when I saw them heading toward the door with the tray my taste buds sank. The wife sat the tray on a chair so that she could get into her coat. Mort is a hound, and if he can smell something that he can get at then that is what he will do. He got at least two or three of those sandwiches before they knew what hit them.

The Cookie Incident

     I have been a public school teacher for more than 17 years and let's just say that my favorite day of the year is the Friday before Christmas Break. For a time, several of those Friday's were half days and there was a tacit understanding that rooms weren't going to be checked to see if the teachers were busy working. Many of those Fridays found me having a long lunch at Taylor's Pub.

    During one of these lunches I received a phone call from my wife and let's just say she was not feeling the love for Mort when she called. My phone rang and the following conversation ensued:

"Hello," I said.

"Do you know what that @#$%ing dog of yours did?" Beth said.

"No."

"He ate the 3 dozen chocolate chip cookies that I made for Carson's class party. I used all the Mrs. Fields batter."

"Did you call a vet?"

"Oh, I called the vet," Beth replied, "but I'm not sure why."

"What did he say?"

"He said the dog would be okay because it was milk chocolate and not baker's chocolate. I hate that @#$%ing dog."

"Did he say any thing else?"

"He told me that he should stay outside for a while. I told him, 'Oh, he'll be outside.' I hate that @#$%ing dog." (I wanted to say I heard you the first time, but a moment of lucid thought saved me).

"When are you coming home?" Beth Asked.

"I don't know."

"ARE YOU DRUNK?!?" Beth snarled.

"Not any more," I said.

    To be fair, Beth loves Mort too and she cleaned up way more than her share of messes. Beth knew that Mort and I had bonded and she never forced the issue about finding another home for Mort. She was patient and I guess she had enough faith that I would make the right decision. Yeah, there can be no doubt that I married up.

Thanks for stopping by and to Mort, thanks for the memories.

I'm on the left and Mort is the bigger dog on the right.