Christian Existentialism

It's 6:09 pm, and I am sitting with my shoes off, my arthritis
is making my feet swell. The front window is open, a person is
passing by the ramp leading up to my room. "Yankee Statium here
we come," states the commercial. "Open a New York checking account",
with the Bank of America.

No clouds can be seen over the parking lot, where my black car is
sitting, beyond the lonely bush in the sand near the asphalt. The
coastal trees, leaning and in disarray, are beyond P21, where
the kids take a computer class.

Its blue, with an alarm wire connecting my portable with the next
room. My room used to be a computer room, and its connected to
the nurse's room, used ROP to train future nurses.

I stack of Mexican hats from Chevy's lay on my Christmas present
from Bed, Bath, and Beyond, which is a stoll the is broken. A
giraffe with my three kids in a picture in its tummy is standing
near my official school mug, black and red, with a saying, "Mentors
Make a Difference." I don't remember why the administration game
us this mug years ago with that comment.

Thigpen in on first with no outs, McDonald successfully sacrifices
Thigpen to second, one out. Susan Wallman and John Stirling go on
about how great Kennedy pitched today.

Struck out seven, walked four.

He's a rookie, pitching only this three day, or so.

"Hit on the ground wide of third."

Its a 1-2 count.

"He struck him out swinging." John Stirling

Thigpen is off second, the infield is in a step or two.

A slider, for a strike.

The Yankees have Abreu, Rodriquez, and Matsui ready for
the next inning.

The next man struck out.

I have a pile of oral report cardboard assignments leaning against
a couple cases of Shasta Root Beer. The heater is sitting, unused,
and cold next to the root beer.

Bobby Abreu

strike 0 and 1

"Grounder up the middle, for a basehit."

Here's A-Rod

pitch high
a throw to first
fouled back

1/1 A Rod backs back

a throw over

strike
a 78 mile curveball, strikeout

My wife is driving Timothy home tonight, so I can
sit here and finish school work and listen to
the Yankees on the internet.

I'm wearing my school grey polo shirt, black pants,
plaid socks, and my Yankee wrist band, or baseball
leather and a cloth "NY" in the middle.

I've got my Mickey Mouse watch, and a school black
plastic wrist band under the Yankees wrist band.

one on and one out
2 and 2

90 mile an hour fast ball.

Matsui is up
foul
right in on his hands

Downs attempts to get a dribbler
and has no play.

Matsui is on first and Abreu is still
on second.

Robinson Cano is up

ground foul at the plate

The Yankees need a basehit

cut on and missed

0 and 2

Grounded to second and he is thrown out at first

Milky Cabrera is up.

The runners move up.

ball

He hits it hard, but there is a diving stop at first

The Yankees leave two, no score.

Its 6:41pm

I've got a poster of James Taylor, President Bush,
"A Fresh Start for America", and Uncle Sam saying,
"I Want You For U.S. Army".

Toronto got a hit on the first pitch.

Chris Britton is pitching.

Frank Thomas is up.

Rios steals second.

Rio is on second with no outs.

I've got the front windows open and the front door,
and my side window between the portables. It's getting
cold. A custodian is measuring the portable next to mine
for some reason.

Hit

Toronto Wins!

I woke up late today. It gets tougher to get
up later in the week. Each day I get up slower,
in the black of the pre-dawn day. I looked for
the family dog, Dyna (for Dynamite), who needs
her medicine, but my 19 year old son, who has
drug the dresser into the door way, and piled
his cloths and books for school all over the floor,
has the dog on his bed, but I am not going to drag
myself through his bedroom looking for a 10 year
old dog, who's half asleep to get it medication,
so I let it go. I got my medication, for arthritis.

I did not get any food for lunch, since I was planning for lunch with the Lions Club at the
Black Bear Diner in Monterey.

Washing my hair, what's left, shaving my face,
and brushing my teeth, and flossing, I stubbed
around the bedroom, and kissed my wife goodbye.

Driving my PT Cruiser, the back window of a PT
is pretty much blind. It was covered with smired
dirt and dew. I turned to my left, watching to
miss my sons Honda in the street, and cleared
off my left rearview mirror. It got caught on
the trash container on the street. It is the
container my wife told me to put out earlier
last night.

I went to the gas station with my mirror hanging
into the window resting next to my steering wheel.

The gasoline would not come out of the hose to
fill the tank. I had to back up and begin to
fill the car.

I drove straight to the Chrysler dealer to put
in a request to fix the car. I left a note with
the early-bird envelope. The car dealers are
fixing the roads, and I got caught in the new
cars lined up and one-way streets, being recovered
with asphalt.

I got no phone call from the dealer, so I went
over to the dealer and got an estimate, which
is $170.00.

I gave a test to four of my classes, and a simulation of the making of the U.S. Constitution
in my AP class.

I drove to the Black Bear Diner, and in walks
my daughter. She was working with a local artist,
finishing his paintings. Apparently, this artist
is painting around 300 paintings to be signed
by Mohammad Ali, and my daughter in helping the
artist finish the paintings.

I bought her lunch, but she said it was dry,
so she did not finish it. I just bought some
french fries and had some water.

Tomorrow is Root Beer Day. I raised around $80.00
last week.

I had to change my Close Up Foundation Washington
D.C. trip. We will go to Washington D.C. and
Williamsburg.

The kids "bailed" on me, so I have a very short
window of time to get six kids to pay over $500.00
to go. I've raised over $7,000 to take these kids.

I'm still at school, correcting tests and recording
them, while listening to the N.Y. Yankees play.
They're losing 1 to 0.

This is another long day.

After our high football team lost last week,
they only lost once all year last year, I
took my home video and showed it to all my classes,
and had the Quarterback sit in front of the
TV sixth period and give us his version of the
game. "Now class we have the Director's Cut version
of last week's loss to the Cowboys (we are the
Spartans) and we have the QB here, Drew Morales,
to tell; now with only 50 seconds left in the
first half, and we have the ball on our 10 yard
line (the football field has 100 yards total, for
you Englanders), so what is going through your
mind at this time?"

The QB thinks to himself for a couple seconds
and tell the class, "Hike the Ball!!!!!"

On the last day of each week,
I leave my classroom, and drive to the local
Smart and Final, to buy goods for my Root Beer
Floats in sell from my classroom. I am the
advisor for the Close Up Foundation in Washington
D.C. I raise over $6,000, to send school children
(teenagers) to Washington D.C. But this year we
are travelling to Philadelphia, and New York.

Today I left class at the second bell, after fourth period, to drive to Smart and Final. I thought I was so smart getting off to a quick start.

But after getting there the person at the check out
stand was just sitting there, and I had to waste
over ten minutes in line.

I bought a large plastic tub of Vanilla ice cream,
bag of 20 ounce cups, three cases of Shasta Root Beer, a small tub of cinamen twists, for the people to eat with the rootbeer floats, and a large
bag of napkins.

I poured a full 12 ounces into each cup with ice cream. I sell it for three dollars each. I have be
making over $70 in profit each week. I turn over
the profit to buying more material each week. Each
fifty dollars left over I keep, and turn into money
orders to the Close Up Foundation every few weeks.

I was all alone again, accept one students, who's not even going to the trip, who helped me pour some
of the rootbeer, and take in the money.

Today I even showed a small DVD about the program
to my 5th and 6th period classes, before having them show their oral reports.

Pop open the cans, smash the cans, pour in the rootbeer, scoop the ice cream, plop, and swip the
sweat off my brow and what little hair I have,
collecting the money, and handing back the change.

All this is to provide money for the trip. The Avenue of Flags, and the Lion's Club is helping to
sponsor the trip, over $6,000.

After buying $47.00 worth of supplies, I totalled
$131.00, over $80.00 profit.

It was hot, and the kids have not grown tired of the rootbeers for lunch. I don't advertize, I don't
need to, because of my regular customers.

My own son Thomas didn't understand how hard it is
to work all day, give up your lunch and prep period, to raise money.

My fifth period laughs at my messed up hair every day, after the work I do every Friday.

Oh, well, the kids who go to Washington D.C. will
appreciate the trip, even if they don't appreciate
the money I'm saving "on my own" each Friday at
lunch.

I tried over and over to get that picture
on my blog. I finally got it by looking
up Adult Wallpaper, on Google. For some reason
the other times I got it on my computer, I
couldn't get it over to the blog; it kept
rejecting the picture. But finally I got it
on. It one of the most amazing pictures of
a female I've ever seen. I find it to be
very encouraging. I hope other appreciate
it as well.

The Federal Reserve
raised the risk of an economic downturn,
from which I decided to take an unusual
step yesterday myself, as I backed
into a women care with my PT Cruiser,
which unfortunately makes the driver totally
blind while looking through the back window, in
the dark, in the Safeway parking lot,
borrowing directly from the Fed, not really,
but wish I could since my daughter had totalled
her Lexus on Pajaro Street, down the block
from Foster's Freeze. The sudden action also
suggests that the nation's central bankers
were worried that a major industrial institution, entertainment, financial, the market place, K Mart,
McDonalds, Salvation Army, some red army
ants, and Hollywood our institutions might fail and
I will have to borrow from the Feds, to keep
our Social Security System from borrowing from
the Democratic Party, which would cause them
to not be able to help me retire, save ten
thousand kitties, or Louis Uchitelle, who writes
for the New York Times, from the financial quivering mountain which has swallowed up at least
six coal miners, and much of my savings in an attempt to put three kids through college and retire in seven years, eight months, and one week.

Open house tonight,
my TA told the class sixth period that I was
gay, and I like black men in prison.

He asked me today if I was mad at him,
and I told him I don't get mad, just even.

I need to get some pictures exposed for my
bulletin board, but I'm too tired to drive
through the streets before the open house
to find a store for that purpose, for which
I would have to drive again through the streets
after talking to six periods of parents, and
talk about grades, a field trip to New York,
and other attempts to drive their grades up through
extra credit.

The Yankees won today,
and I let my fifth period
listen to the ending,
5 to nothing,
over the Red Sox,
in which I gave them twenty
points just for listening to them win.

I didn't go to the YMCA this morning,
and I will be paying the penalty.
I worked on blogging yesterday afternoon,
and didn't make copies of handouts for
my AP U.S. History class, and I had to drive
into work at 5:50am to beat the rush to
the copy machine. Robin, a grey-haired
old teacher from L.A., with a Masters in
"something", which she is always willing to
tell anyone who's willing to listen, was
there before 6:30am on the copy machine.
I had to take the slower of the two. At least
it works. I'm going to irritated all day today,
and my first period is really "slow", bad
at attendence, wandering in, and will want
to know whats going on. "Tell me again the
instructions, I didn't listen to you," will
be the call of the students for the first
hour. I need some coffee.

The weather is nice today,
the sun is out, it's cool,
the kids are wandering by outside,
some have their coats up to their ears,
there is some laughter and chit chat,
grumbling at something by one kid, who's
voice slowing gets quieter as he passes.

Some kids glance into my classroom to see
me on the computer, one being a student
I have in third period, in which I have a
test today.

Caps, there goes a red cap, it looks like
the St. Louis Cardinals, I suppose because
they won the World Series last year, kids
like to match themselves up with a winner.

The voices are getting louder, as you can
hear the engines of the Crown buses rumbling
around near my portable.

My nick nacks cludder the table aroud my computer,
a giraffe, with my kids picture in the middle,
a black mug with the school's name on it,
some Mexican Coka Cola bottles with Mexican
flags in them, with a plastic "sucker" on them
so I could place them on glass if I wanted.

Laughter, talking, louder, shuffling of shoes,
"No I'm not" says one boy, "Paper", "Yeaaaa",
words can be picked up, and the sound of wood
clanging against the sidewalk, someone has brought
their skateboard to school, a no no by the way.

"Shit, I "mumble, mumble", ..."

The school is awakening, the teachers are going to
the lounge to get their coffee to give them courage
for the long day of papers, grumbling by teenagers,
and administration commands.

The sand between the sidewalk, brushes, and asphalt, has foot prints throughout.

"Stop it!," a girl's voice barks.

"There will be no class counts today, enjoy,"
says the Principal's voice for the faculty,
on the school wide intercom.

"You'll survive," another girls says to a friend.

Hardly a cloud in the sky.

7:36am

Rumbling of the bus, it shuts down,
no one is coming into my room,
their waiting until the last minute,
hoping I'll not keep close tabs on
the attendence.

Ringgggggggggggggggggggg.

Foot steps, coughing, bus motor rumbling,
a girl comes into class.

"Hey, how are you doing?"

"Fine thanks," she says.

I don't remember her name.

A couple black kids come into class to
see if they can see a film after their test.

They're pretty neat.

When I was a child my Dad named me
the Root Beer boy.
The root beer soda has been an obsession
of mine, but what isn't?
If prepared properly,
its ice cold, chill a root beer,
for at least three hours,
maybe five,
it should be frothy, cold,
with a slight bite at the beginning,
and a rush of sugar and distict
rootbeer taste, like
Mugs, made in California,
Thomas Kemper, made in Seattle or Berkley,
A&W, made by Dr. Pepper, sadly,
but,
try a good gourmet root beer,
Henry Weinhardt is the best,
with
Bulldog, made in Fresno,
as a close second,
Honey, and Vanilla, drenched
in foam,
real sugar cane,
"A gourmet soda, hand-finished with
natural and artificial flavors and only the
freshest and highest quality ingredients."
Or
"Unleach the Tast",

Carbonated water, cane sugar,
honey, maltodextrin, natural and artificial
flavors, sodium benzoate, real vanilla,
phoshoric acid, and salt.

Gales's Root Beer, Chicago,
made by Chef Gale Gand,
Genuine Hank's, Philidelphia,
Calories 180,
Total Fat Og,
Sodium 35mg,
Total Carb. 44g,
Protein Og,

and "not a significant source of calories from
fat, sat. fat, trans fat, cholerterol, dietary
fiber, Vitamin A, Vitamin C, calcium or iron."

www.hanksbeverages. com,

Captain Eli's, brewed in Portland, Maine,
Refund:
ME,
MA,
VT,
CT,
NY,
DE,
IA,
OR,
5cents.

Original Stewart's, "Fountain Classics",

Cold Brewed Draft,
key ingredients: Quillaia Extract, Gum Acacia,
and Yucca Extract.

Note: Those three ingredients cause the root beer
to have a "smooth" taste.

Triple XXX, out of Galveston, Texas, but
the company is owned in Houston, I.B.C.
root beer is out of Dallas.

Triple XXX tastes like ice cream and root beer,
"in-the-bottle",

and there is Virgil's,
which tastes like black licerice,
and needs to be very cold.

There's alot more,
but I've got a doctor's appt.
so I'll write again about root beer.

Have a taste!

Born in Fresno
Brought in in a little cowtown
Became addicted to pornography at 10
Dad molested my sister
Went to Church
Ran track, football, baseball, and basketball
Introduced to homosexuality,
beer, more pornography, cocaine,
"grass", molested a girl,
in my Bible Study Group.
I was the leader of the Bible Study Group.
She still wanted to be my girlfriend.
Christianity made me guilty, and depressed.
Cheated in French, and math.
Went to a private college,
hated it.
Went to Fresno State for my teaching credential.
Couldn't smoked, smoked,
Couldn't dance, didn't,
Couldn't drink, on campus, drank.
Married at 27.
Virgin 'til I dated my future wife,
began teaching, tough 25 years,
three kids,
only 8 years to go.

I've been let go, fired, or quit
almost every job I've had.
Though I've worked at my present location
for over twenty years, take one year
teaching in King City.

I'm looking forward to retirement,
when I can volunteer at a local history park,
and work with the Amtrack, talking to
the riders and tell them about local history.

And wish I could have a cat,
which my wife won't let me have.