November 9, 2004
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The Daily News
1 We did an amazing turnaround on Saturday and Sunday. After coaching the Senior Class to their 2005 Spirit Week victory and getting home at 2 a.m., a crew of us went back down to the Theatre and spent all Saturday and most of Sunday building, painting, and getting the stage ready for this Thursday’s opening of the Pigeon Players’ production of David Tucker’s farce/romance/Godfather-meets-Romeo and Juliet Thugs, this Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. After over thirty hours (seven of which were spent cleaning the champion Seniors’ trash!) we successfully turned the Theatre into a cartoon! The set looks great; needs a little touching up, but otherwise, it is pure eye candy.
2 “I’m a competitor. I want to compete like a sonuvagun.”
Coach Dennis Erickson, SF 49ers
3 Well, coach, you can’t make chicken soup out of chicken feathers.
4 I was actually so tired when I read that this morning that I at first thought a Sonuvagun was some Warrior from Gladiator days. Pronounced So-NEW-vauhgoon. I cleaned the stupid out of my eyes and it finally materialized. “OH!” sez I. “Son-of-a-gun!”
5 What a dork.
6 Amid all the pomp and craziness of the Homecoming game, I made a few misjudgments with some of my wonderful Seniors, and wound up hurting some feelings. As always, I felt terrible at the days’ end yesterday, shaking my head as to how I can do that every now and again.
7 I kept my head up, kept smiling, but any time I hurt someone, I go through tremendous sadness. It’s just the way I am. It also hurts the class when I demonstrate that all is not always perfect at the top. Hey, all is not perfect ANYWHERE. Still, there were certainly a few misunderstandings during Spirit Week, and the usual words were exchanged. Our class isn’t invulnerable, although pretty close. We still have differences of opinion, etc. like any human beings.
8 I tend to take it pretty hard though, especially when I know I caused tears. People could sense my sadness yesterday, which is like saying people could sense that Eyeore is bummed every now and again.
9 So I drove some kids home, and wound up taking Sparky last. I was sharing some of my concerns, and how I wanted to make things right, and how hectic things were, and blah, blah, blah, when Sparky looked at me and said, “Pull over man, and stop the truck.”
10 I pulled over and stopped the truck. “Get out,” he said.
11 Amused, I got out of the truck and walked over to him. He was standing at a small garden patch over by where he lives. He went to one of the prettiest red roses I ever saw, smelled it, and said, “Smell this.” It was just beautiful. Seems roses in stores no longer have that fresh, wonderful fragrance that I caught right then. Sparky then said, “Okay man, now you can take me home.”
12 It was quiet for a second. Sparky then looked at me and said, “You know what, man?”
13 I was still a recovering Eyeorholic. “What?” came my response from under my big, sad eyes.
14 “You need to do this more often.”
15 “Do what?” I asked, stupidly.
16 Sparky just smiled.
17 Peace.
