Balboni's Barbequed Baked Beans

In the end even I liked it.

In the beginning it was just an idea. Then it grew to a spoken goal, “Let’s create a musical together.” As the year rolled forward those 110 4^th graders and I inched ahead, transforming the idea into reality.

Last Thursday we performed it. It seemed to me that all of us; teachers, students, parents, had an experience we will always remember. The students and teachers had worked so hard, the students performed from their hearts, the parents received it so openly - understanding the depth and richness of what their children had experienced.

Personal achievement is wonderful – but group achievement all the more so.

It was called, “A Thief, A Liar, and Some Singing Cows.” Our musical was set in Old Texas. As Billy Bob tries to “get to the bottom” of the why certain things have turned up missing (Including the entire stock of Balboni’s Barbequed Baked Beans) in town the people of Diamondback Springs learn that you can’t hide the truth.

Saying Goodbye Sucks

I taught my last private lessons tonight. I’ve been teaching some of these guys for two years now. I had everyone from my 4^th grade neighbor who is studying piano to my 65 year old saxophone student. I’m pretty down about this being the last lesson. There is a special relationship between a teacher and a student. Some lessons ended with a bit of a teary eyed goodbye.

I called Susan after the last one so I would have someone to talk to. That was nice. I decided it was a good night to open the “Young’s Chocolate Stout” I’ve been saving in the fridge along with the chocolate that goes with it. Eventually I had to hang up, and the Stout was gone, so I opened the “Samuel Smith Taddy Porter” that has been waiting next to the Stout in the fridge and opened the smoked almonds I’ve been saving.

Saying Goodbye sucks.

I don’t want to be overly dramatic about the whole thing, but as Solomon wrote, “There is a time for everything.” Tonight is the time for the end of a period in my life – a milestone: the end of one thing anticipating the beginning of another. So tonight I’m marking the end of this part of my life.

I suppose an aching heart is part of being truly alive. A sad parting means there was first a vibrant friendship. How fortunate I have been to have been a meaningful person in people’s lives, to have grown close enough to really know my students, and to be there with them as they grew and discovered the joy of making music and accomplishment, to have been with them to encourage them during failure and struggles and rejoice with them during times of accomplishment and success.

I turned on my “Quiet Music” playlist and decided to get to work on the music for the 4^th grade musical next week. Life goes on….

The Boston Marathon and Other Stuff

I find myself eating supper at the computer, on a break between private lessons, eating the other half of the steak I grilled last night, drinking an excellent pint of St Peter’s Old-Style Porter. I used up all my reserves of patience, kindness, and goodwill toward mankind at school today. Sitting quietly, eating slowly, reading about spring planting and Hilary’s slow but sure demise, squishing my bare toes into the carpet – this feels nice.

I’m alone in my house which is for sale but no one is looking at. Susan has been gone for 6 weeks now, I think, starting our new life in Cincinnati.

Last night I said good bye so a few more of my private students, and next week I will say good bye to the rest of them. For me, leaving Texas has been like slowly peeling off a band-aid. I had no idea how many meaningful relationships I had until they started peeling off one by one. I’ve lost track of teary eyed last words, and there are still many more to go.

Here comes my next student.

OK, I’m back. As I taught we watched the huge hail-slinging tornadic thunderstorm pass by a few miles to the north out the big windows in my office. We lucked out tonight. After I finished teaching I ran 7 miles as the sun set, and the sky grew grey, and the sliver moon came out. I love when the moon is just a sliver like that. It was a good run. I thought some clear thoughts and worked through some things I have been grappling with.

Well, anyway, I have not blogged for a long time. I’ve been working on the musical for the 4^th graders and other urgent things. Tonight those will have to wait. I should write about my trip to Boston.

The Boston Marathon

It was one great day after another. I spent Thursday and Friday with my sister Cathleen. She is an artist, and knows all the amazing places along the coast. So we breathed in the sea air, and looked at beautiful places, and took pictures and film for two full days. We ate at some interesting and fun places. I even took an airplane ride, and met a some guys who restore airplanes. That was a hoot.

Then Susan arrived and we all did Boston on Saturday. I had to pick up my race packet, and so did several thousand other runners, and it was like a big party all over Boston. We walked along some of the “Historic Trail” and got some great pictures, rode the subway, met some interesting people, and had a great day. I think we even went out to the beach in the middle of the night to see the ocean under a full moon.

Sunday we went to New Hampshire and Maine, saw more great sites, and ate at the Maine Diner.

Monday was the race. We got up at 4:30 and left at 5:00. AM! Cathleen drove me to the subway station and I rode in from there. All the runners met downtown and we were bussed out to the starting line. Just imagine how many buses it took to transport 20,000 runners. If you ever want to meet an open, fun, talkative group of people, hang out with runners before a marathon. Everyone is excited and nervous. Everyone has a story, and, after you listen to their’s, most of then want to hear yours too. We left Boston at 6:15.

Once we arrived in Hopkinton we all waited in a large grassy area which they called, “The Athlete’s Village.” It was, in fact, a field between two school buildings lined with porta-potties. We waited and waited and waited. Two and a half hours of waiting, most of it in line at a porta-pottie.

They finally let us walk down toward the starting line, about ½ mile away. By the time I got there I had to go to the bathroom again, so I spent another 20 minutes in line. I left the porta-pottie three minutes before the race was to start. That was a little nerve wracking. I had made a pre-race plan which included tightening my shoe laces once I got to my place at the starting line. Well, I didn’t expect to be so late. So I was in a hurry, and ended up tying my laces too tight, which bothered me the entire race, but I didn’t wan to stop and fix them.

I never did see the guys at the front start the race. The street was packed with people as far as I could see up the hill, but it took us 10 minutes of walking to arrive at the starting line. From that point on, there was a constant stream of people cheering us on. I have never seen anything like it. 26 miles is a long way, and I have no idea how many people it takes to fill both sides of the road for 26 miles, but they were there. And they hollered for us like we were the Kenyans.

For the first 8 miles I was so engaged with the crowd that I kept missing my splits. I was high fiving kids on the side of the road, and looking at everybody. Then I realized that I had better concentrate on the race, so I started to focus on my time and got back on track.

As far as the run itself, there is a lot of pretty steep downhill running for the first 6 miles, and it tore up my quads. I was uncomfortable running down hill the entire race after that. The big hills come between mile 17 and 21, which is, for me, the toughest part of the race. The hills slowed me down a bit, but I felt alright going uphill.

I developed a cramp in my calf around that time, and I was a little worried about it, so I decided not to really push it during the last 5 miles. I was really hurting (well I had already run 21 miles, hadn’t I?) for the last 5 miles, but I always really hurt then. But it was so great to be running and finishing the Boston.

Crossing the finish line was a combination of happiness and pain. I hurt really bad. I couldn't move very fast, and I even had to ask a volunteer to untie my too-tightly- tied shoelaces because I could not even bend over.

But, I was ecstatic. Finishing the Boston was the fulfillment of a dream that started 15 years ago. I had to over come training issues, injury, school schedules, more injuries, and life in general. I have run thousands of miles, many of them long, hard, and lonely. I had to learn how to train, how to rest, how to eat, how to pace myself. I finished but failed at two marathons, one ending up in the emergency room. I qualified once and then disqualified myself by using all my allowed days off from teaching. All of these things came flooding into my mind during the last few blocks as I could see the finish line ahead, and the huge crowd was screaming like I was winning the race, and I ran those last few steps of a long, long, long journey.

I felt very alive.

Well, I walked across Boston Common, took the subway, met Cathleen and Susan, ate some supper, rejoiced a while, got on the plane back to Dallas with a bunch of other marathoners and finally got home at 1:30 in the morning. I scraped myself out of bed in time to get to school. Before school they surprised me. Each class had made a poster for me, and all the students were in the hallways cheering for me. I ran a “Victory Lap” through the school, all the students cheering and high fiving me! I’ve got no words to tell you how moving that was.

You see, during the race, they were all tracking me online, so they knew how I was doing, and when I was finished. The staff made such a big deal of it to the kids, they were just so, so fun. All week everyone was congratulating me and asking questions.

During the marathon I took some video clips of the race, and myself. So I made a short video of it and showed it to all the kids during school the next week. I talked to them about reaching for a big goal, and never giving up.

So you can see, except for the guy who actually won the thing, I think I had the best possible Boston Marathon experience, extending from way before the race to way after.

There is more to say, but I’m not going to say it now.

I wanted to write about my cultural experience last Sunday. I went to Texas Stadium for the big Cinco de Mayo celebration. I sort of expected folk dancing and music. Well, it turned out to be sort of like the State Fair, you know, booths of various kinds, three big stages with big-name groups, carnival rides. There were 100,000 people expected to attend. It turned out to be 99,999 hispanics and me. Who knew? Well, I had a great time. I tried all the various foods including: Elado – a Styrofoam cup filled with corn, sourcream, something else fatty, cheese, and topped with chili. Papas – deep fat fried potato slices with lime and hot pepper. Chicarron con cuerito – a large wafer (probably fried pork fat) topped with cabbage, cheese, peppers, tomatoes, and pork skin. Yes, pork skin. I had some orange “chips” that looked like wagon wheels with hot sauce pour on top. Let’s see, then, of course I had to try a Margarita and various Mexican beers.

I heard three or four cool bands playing ranchero music and wearing white leather pants. I’m not sure I can get used to the star guy in the band, you know, the one every screams at, playing an accordion. There was some very loud Mexican rap, and some young guys doing some random talking/screaming stuff that I didn’t get at all.

Everyone was very friendly, and didn’t seem to mind me being a gringo, although I did get the feeling that they thought I must be lost somehow.

At times I felt very tall.

OK, I’m glad I ignored all the other stuff I had on my list tonight and got this down. I’ll try to get some pictures up tomorrow.