(I sent this letter on Friday, June 5, and sent it again this afternoon.)

Dear Senator Fuschillo:

I am writing with respect to what I understand is your intention to vote against marriage equality. While I am cognizant of your difficult position as a Republican and a Catholic, and I understand that many of my fellow constituents have a tendency to allow fear and viscera to guide their opinions rather than logic and compassion, I am hoping that I can, at the very least, convince you to abstain, if not to vote yes, to marriage equality.

1.

There is no reason why two people who wish to commit to one another should be barred from state-sanctioned matrimony because they happen to have the same genitalia and sex chromosomes. Using one’s religious beliefs as a basis for determining that this is not worthy of state sanctioning is in essence imposing one’s religious beliefs upon a class of people, and using the power of the legislature to do so is therefore unconstitutional.

2.
Using children as a method of propaganda against gay and lesbian couples is a trick which has been used before: mulatto children were (and by some, still are) considered inferior, “damaged,” or otherwise tainted by their foolhardy, interracial parents. There are many heterosexual couples who, all things being equal, make poor role models indeed, but they are not faced with a knee-jerk societal assumption that because of their “lifestyle choices” or innate, intrinsic natures, they should be barred from state-sanctioned commitment or the choice to bear and/or raise children. Disabled people, too, have been victimized by religious and social discrimination when it comes to marriage and having children.
On a societal scale, the children of same-sex couples are no more likely to do any better or worse than the children of heterosexual couples, or straight single parents. Similarly, those who are concerned about the “message” sent to young children if we allow same-sex marriage are splitting hairs: Those same-sex couples will still exist and live among us, and should not be expected to hide their love to any further extent than is expected of heterosexual couples. There are more than enough examples of inappropriate heterosexual behavior on television, on the Internet, in our schools, workplaces, and on our streets to keep us occupied. Creating myths of recruiting and brainwashing cults of gays and lesbians is puerile, dangerous, and hypocritical.

3.
Should one of my children desire one day to marry a person of the same gender, I want him or her to be able to do so. I want him or her to have the same property, medical, legal, and other rights that accompany the state of matrimony. I do not think it is my neighbor’s or my legislator’s or a faith’s place to withhold this right from any committed couple merely because of a visceral reaction to the manner in which they conduct their love-making. The same people and ideologies should not have this right in this instance any more than in the instances of the couple in question being mixed race, mixed spirituality, disabled, vastly different in age, etc. If and when children become part of such unions, they deserve the same status and protection as the children of other married individuals.
If, goodness forbid, a terrible accident, injury, or illness were to befall one member of the couple, the other should have the same rights as a heterosexual spouse.
4. Given the great many divisive, trying, and troubling crises and issues facing our state, our country, and our planet, it does no one any good to allow this to cloud our discourse and our legislative process. Let’s allow couples who wish to commit to one another to do so, and get on with the important issues which deeply and directly affect all of us as human beings, regardless of our religions, skin color, disabilities, and sexuality.

It is not fair to base this decision upon one’s visceral reaction, religion, propaganda, fear-mongering, or political posturing. This involves raw emotions: love, family, sensuality, — the strongest and most vital aspects of humanity. As compared to how this decision will affect the couples who desire the right to marry, what are the short-term and long-term direct effects upon the rest of us?
If marriage equality is passed in New York, as it has been in six other states, will anyone not directly involved even care without the help of press and propagandist spin doctors a few weeks after the fact?

Consider:
If one member of a same-sex couple had the money and desire to undergo a transgender operation, s/he would then be legally entitled to marry his/her partner.
It is rather ironic that an individual who feels comfortable with his or her body and sexuality would not have the same right. How disturbing and disappointing if New York was one of the states that legislated this absurd state of affairs, and how troubling to me that you would be part of such an injustice.

Sincerely,
Christine Faltz Grassman

This weekend was truly fantastic in every possible way. Friday night, Gary and I checked into the Radisson Martinique on Broadway and ate at the hotel’s Martinique Cafe. Not great, but it hit the spot, as we were starving and it was zeroing in on ten PM. I won’t offer you the more private moments of our weekend, except to say that Friday was intense in a positive way, and Saturday night trumped it at least tenfold. (grin).
Saturday, we headed over to the enormous line to get same-day tickets; we spent some time considering the offerings, managing to get our choices down to four (I knew better than to beg to see Hamlet.) We decided on Perfect Crime, and when we requested tickets, we received first-row seats.
We went to lunch at a perfectly respectable, if unremarkable, diner, then headed over to the Snapple Theater on West Fiftieth for the show.
It was excellent; we really enjoyed it. We walked back to our hotel, had a couple of mimosas in the room, then decided to start walking in the direction of the New York Comedy Club on East Twenty-fourth. We were specifically going there because Chris Distefano would be there, and we think he’s quite funny. (Haven’t heard of him? Hopefully, that’ll change.)
At any rate, we passed by quite a few wonderful-smelling Indian establishments, which Gary unfortunately does not enjoy.
We checked out one restaurant’s menu — a sort of upscale pub — but decided to try our luck further on.
At 307 Third Avenue, between 23rd and 24th, we found it: Andrea’s Brick Oven Restaurante. The name worried me; I figured it was going to be nothing more than a glorified pizza joint. However, the menu contained one of my absolute favorites: chicken Picata, which I haven’t had in ages. We only ordered entrees, as we knew we were in for the two-drink minimum at the club. We will definitely be heading back there.
When we arrived at the comedy club, we overheard some patrons thanking one of the cocktail waitresses for suggesting Andrea’s.
The show was not the best comedy show I’ve been to, but far from the worst. We chatted with a group of young ladies and their mom from Mississippi, who were visiting one of their number who is attending SUNY Stony Brook.
Afterwards, we had quite a night, as referred to in passing earlier.
Sunday, we went to one of our favorite cafes, then did some shopping. On our way out, one of those shoplifter alert alarms sounded, and we weren’t sure whether it was us or the people in front of us making it go off.
We were in the middle of going up an escalator, and a security guard got Gary’s attention and told us to wait at the top. We did, and we figured it was nothing more than a forgotten alarm tag on one of the items we had just purchased. No such luck. Apparently, one of the shirts was not rung up, as per the receipt, which they checked twice. Gary was asked, “Did you want to buy this?”
Gary responded, “That was the intention.” It was really not pleasant thinking that they believed we tried to get away with something. Also, it was not the best way to end our extremely nice weekend.
We came home, did some food shopping, and watched Sex, Lies, and Videotape before enjoying a simple stir-fry dinner. Then the kiddies came home from their dad’s, we all watched some television together, and the weekend was over.
This afternoon, I came home a little early from work, not feeling particularly well; I hope I didn’t pick up something nasty from anyone over the weekend; I hate to waste illness on a four-day week. (grin).
Speaking of illness, I’m glad Elton John is feeling better.
Nothing controversial here, folks — sorry. I’m too queasy for it at the moment.

If I agreed with every single word and deed articulated, proposed, or implemented by Mike Bloomberg, he still wouldn’t be fit to lead. He thumbed his nose at the democratic process because he has the money and the arrogance to do so. He has hoodwinked parents and the media regarding his “saving the schools”. It is good to know that even with his moneybags overflowing and the disgusting expenditures of his campaign, his victory was not the coronation polls — paid for by him, no doubt — suggested it would be.
Then, there’s Maine. Cold, little Maine. Ayuh. If you want to keep warm in Maine with your love, don’t plan on marrying him or her if you’re gay. No, that threatens the lobster-rolling, ice-fishing, shit-shoveling — oops, snow-shoveling — citizenry. Lord knows it’s bad enough they allow former prisoners, drug addicts, chain smokers, and nasty people from all over to marry there. You could be the nastiest, skankiest sonofabitch this side of the Canadian border, but if you’re straight, you can marry in Maine. Why, you ask? Well, because just like in many other spots in our fine country, someone else’s sexuality is threatening to all they hold dear. When will people grow the fuck up?
While we’re on the subject of hateful hypocrisy, let me just say that I am delighted that Bill Owens beat out the Teabagger pick in upstate New York. These Teabaggers really amuse me. They’re all into their holier-than-thou, die-hard Jeffersonian democracy: they believe in states’ rights — until the state wants to provide its gay constituents with the right to marry. They’re against government interference or intervention of any kind, until it “protects” them from other people’s religions, cultures, or desires for freedom. They’re against regulation unless it helps them, and they’re against welfare unless it bails out big corporations or helps them personally. It never occurs to any of them that Thomas Jefferson is probably rolling over in his grave at the way they demand freedoms and the right to be left alone while essentially telling anyone who doesn’t agree with them that they are unpatriotic, immoral, or just plain wrong — and in many instances, undeserving of the same rights they demand. They seem to think every real American who ever lived could not possibly disagree with anything they support, assert, or believe to be “the truth”.
They and their “leaders” love to write about history through a narrow lens, and pick and choose those quotations, occurrences, and historical figures that bolster their mind-set. Fair enough, as the bleeding hearts do the same shit, but let’s not lose sight of the fact that each is thoroughly ignoring the fact that there will always be, and should always be, vigorous dialogue in a free country.That means that legislators should not be chased by crazed mobs, shouted down at town meetings, or threatned with death. Ah, but only “true Americans” deserve to pursue life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. The “true American” is defined by the group using the term at the time, and generally requires that s/he has the right religious values, the right attitude towards government, and a healthy fear of anything or anyone which provokes thought or consideration outside their proscribed little boxes. This is for both sides of the lunatic fringe, including the rad pinkos who think everyone who has ever been wronged, or who has had to deal with prejudice, discrimination, or hardship deserves reparations, entitlements, and societal and governmental coddling.

You know, when Steven fell, I knew for a fact that the rest of the tour would be cancelled. I had no problem with that. As far as I was concerned, anything other than that would have been foolhardy. I was sincerely worried about Steven going to Hawaii. I pride myself on the fact that being a “typical fan” is something I find repulsive. I try to recall that those I admire are full human beings with lives far more complicated and deeper than celebrity and its various triumphs and traps.
I’m having a really hard time dealing with the cancellation of the North American tour for the foreseeable future when the band traveled to the United Arab Emirates for a concert in Abu Dhabi. It doesn’t sit well with me. At all. Rest up for as long as you like, Steven. But if you can travel on long flights, put on a great show, conduct interviews, and apparently otherwise embrace life as usual, why is Joe talking about “space” and why did Aerosmith ditch the place where its fan base was born and is surely strongest and most loyal?
I wouldn’t say I’m pissed, but I’m deeply troubled. Either things aren’t as potentially complicated as reports make them out to be, or Steven is doing himself, his family, the band, and the fans a major disservice — except, of course, the fans who sue, or the ones far, far away.

Surround yourself with goodies and friends,
And dress up or don’t, as you will;
Make peace with the year, as it ends,
Have a blast, party, get your fill.
Always remember those that have gone before us,,
Inside us they live, breathe, and perhaps guide:
Never take for granted those who live and those who died.

Where the heck to begin? This week thoroughly sucked. I don’t know why, but my omnipresent sense of humor is not working as well as it has in the past few years to get me through the madness at work these days. Before I throw out the latest incidents for your consideration, let me take the time to give some background:

After being accepted into the New York City Teaching Fellows (an organization which places men and women from other professions into a Master’s program in teaching and places them in at-risk schools), I began teaching within a program called New Beginnings. My students were thirteen- to eighteen-year-olds with every type of problem and situation you could think of or dream up. The program had a principal who visited the various New Beginnings sites once or twice a month at most, and the assistant principal was really in charge, as the one on site on a daily basis.
My AP was a former corrections officer, very tall and very laid back. This appointment was a nightmare for him, but he was a genuinely well-intentioned man who had a great deal of potential. My colleagues were fantastic: dedicated, full of humor, and we cared about one another. Our cooperation made it possible to get through a very grueling set of circumstances, including lockdowns, the need for police intervention, students threatening teachers, themselves, and fellow classmates, and so on and so forth. However, many of the New Beginnings sites were simply not in places where they could be run efficiently, and there were considerable clashes in philosophy and protocol between the DOE folks and the people running the community-based organizations (CBO’s) with which the program was affiliated. New Beginnings was not a well-run ship, and it sank.

I was nearly sent to teach at Rikers, which would have been fine with me, since at least I would have a captive audience and this time there would be a guard in the classroom, a perk which would have been appreciated at New Beginnings, if not a sound educational strategy. Instead, at the last minute, I was told to report to a program for pregnant and parenting teens, again ages thirteen to eighteen. We had some drama, but not nearly as much as New Beginnings. Once again, I noticed the serious shortcomings in organization, materials, and the site. In my second year, we had to leave the building suddenly due to no heat during a very cold January and high levels of carbon monoxide in the building. (In addition to staff and students, we had a nursery for students’ babies and toddlers.)
We moved mid-year to a former Catholic school building. Toward the end of the year, we learned that several programs within the Alternative High Schools and Programs were being “reorganized”. Many teachers were “excessed” and could not find jobs.
Some time in August, I received a letter indicating that I should come to an interview at the district office in Queens. I was given a scenario to read and consider and five minutes to formulate a response. I did my thing, and about a week later, was offered a position at my current site, where ESL and pre-GED students are prepared for the GED and beyond: college, various vocations, etc.

The central ideas and objectives of the program are sound and necessary: to provide ESL services and literacy instruction for students, career and college counselling, and social services for those who require them. Students are age eighteen to twenty-one (with an occasional seventeen-year-old) and for whatever reason wish to get their GED’s rather than complete high school. (We have many very recent immigrants who feel that they are too old for high school and want to get language skills before going further in their educations. These are by far our most dedicated and serious students, and the ones whose families take the most significant interest in their performance and behavior.)
We provide services for students who are virtually illiterate as well as students who are just about ready for the GED, but require some more assistance with reading, writing, math, or some combination thereof. This year, I have three classes of students whose reading scores range from 3.6 to 5.5 — those are grade levels. In order to take the GED, students must be operating at a ninth-grade level.
One of my classes is with me for three periods a day. The other two have me for one period a day, and they are with other teachers for the other part of the day. (This is called a cohort — I am responsible mostly for social studies and science instruction, another teacher for English, and another for math — but all three of us must be willing and able to handle all subjects.)
This “cohort” system is new, implemented, along with several other interesting ideas, by our new assistant principal. (This program, too, is run by assistant principals at various sites, while our overworked principal must go where he can when he can.)
I was very hopeful at the beginning of this year, thinking the insanity extant in the program — or at least at my site — would be whittled away with the help of close collaboration between and among the staff, students, and new administration. Despite a few very promising signs of progress (a planned Student Council, an energetic effort to plan activities and trips, an attempt to “spice up” the community aspect of our site) the main festering sore of ridiculous expectations and wrong-headed, potentially dangerous policies, still loom large.

When students exhibit problem behaviors, teachers are to follow a “ladder of referral,” which is as follows:
a. Speak with the student.
b. Call the student’s home.
c. Ask for parent or guardian to come in for a conference.
d. Seek help from the class guidance counselor.
e. Involve the dean.
f. Involve the assistant principal as a last resort.

This is perfectly reasonable, except for the following:
If you treat young adults like children, they will rise to the occasion and act like children. Our students are legal adults, most with jobs, some with children or children on the way, and many not living with parents or guardians. They are college-age, and as such, the very concept of calling their homes if they are late, absent, not participating, or worse is absurd. It is resented by all of them except those with a family culture that appreciates it. Also, if family involvement was not there for the students in elementary, middle, or high school, why should anyone expect it to be present now?
These kids are old enough to die as soldiers. They are old enough to vote. They are old enough to go to strip clubs. Give me a break.

Teachers spend a ridiculous amount of time addressing and documenting stupid regulations such as: no hats, do-rags, hoodies, cell phones, other electronics. There are no immediate consequences if the students ignore such requests — nine out of ten times no one is available to remove the student, and one must follow the “ladder of referral” anyway. A student may only be removed if he or she is disruptive enough to impede the delivery of instruction to the other students. Of course, teachers (including me) have recently found that even health and safety issues are not good enough reasons for immediate removal of students.
Last Friday, a student became belligerent when my para wanted to take his cell phone. He began cursing her out. We had already written up and talked with this student several times, and reported him. My para left the room in search of the dean, who was absent. The guidance counselors were in a meeting, as was the assistant principal. My para did convey our need to have the student removed, and the AP said she would come at the conclusion of her meeting.
Meanwhile, the student rose from his seat and literally slammed the door of the classroom open, and exited. When he returned, he did the same. (He had done something similar, again regarding his cell phone, the day before.)
We were told later by the AP that he would not be allowed to return to school until he brought a parent or guardian with him. She told this to me and to my para, and mentioned the incident to our staff meeting that afternoon.
Monday morning, the offending young man came into the classroom. I asked him if he had a note allowing him back in, and if he had brought someone with him to school. He said no. I reminded him of what the AP had said. He got up and left the room. My para followed, located the dean, and filled him in. the dean said, “Let him back in the class; I’ll pull him later.”
(The AP sent me an email a few moments later saying essentially the same thing, but I did not see it until later in the day.)
Meanwhile, the reappearance of this little shit raised the interest of my often adorable, but sometimes highly irritating, over-the-line Smart Mouth and Class Clown, who proceeded to recognize that if there were no consequences for a prick who curses out staff, he could use his comedic and distracting talents to his heart’s content. It did not seem to bother him that his classmates wanted to learn; he was having fun.
I wrote an email to the AP, stating that I was appalled that this message was being sent to the class, and to me and my para, and that we felt threatened not only by this student’s anger management issues, but by the message being sent to both him and the rest of the class.
She replied that they would reach out to his parents again later in the day, but that unless the student was so disruptive that instruction was impossible, he should remain in the class.
She also said that while she would never intentionally act to render a teacher appalled, she was far more concerned with protocol.

Fast-forward to yesterday. A student who has only been in my class for a week, who does absolutely nothing, despite being spoken to by me and another teacher in our cohort, started hocking phlegm into a bottle on his desk. The noises were as expected and disgusting, and he was seriously grossing out a few of the students. Finally, one of my most serious students rose and strolled over and tossed the bottle into the garbage, to the young man’s glee.
After lunch, this student upped the ante, and began hocking directly into my garbage pail. Again. And again. And again. I explained to him why he had to stop, suggested that he see a doctor about his need to do this, and told him to cease immediately. My para asked if he was listening to me when he did not reply. He responded, “Not really.”
I wrote an email to the AP, and my para wrote up a description for the dean. The AP responded a few minutes later with the phenomenal idea of following the ladder of referral (see above).
I was incensed. Here we were, swine flu spreading, the regular flu season about to begin, a building already unhealthy with air pollutants, the possibility of tuberculosis and who knows what else, and I was being asked to call home and ask for a conference??!! What exactly has to occur before the ladder of referral is deemed inappropriate? Does something have to be thrown at someone? Does a student have to pull down his or her pants and urinate or defecate in my pail? Does someone have to indulge in masturbation, or would a mass circle jerk warrant calls to everyone’s home after a chat with the onanists had failed to procure improved behavior?
Two young ladies from my class who were particularly nauseated by this young man went to complain to my AP, and were asked “Who sent you?” They were also told that “Ms. Grassman has to follow the process. A process is a process.” (One of the two young ladies came to tell me this, as she believed she had gotten me in trouble.)

This shit would not happen in college, nor at a place of employment without immediate and decisive action.(Oh, and by the way, out of the sixty or so students in all three classes, Parent Teacher Night and Parent Teacher Day rendered five visits from relatives — three from my main class, and two from one of my cohort teacher’s class.)
There are no consequences to speak of, no probationary period, no back-up for teachers at all. In fact, a colleague was left to fend for herself against a parolee student who was spewing nastiness at her and had done so to other students earlier — she had called for security, and the dean came in, attempted to appeal to the young man’s better nature, then when the thug would have none of it, the dean left the room for another ten minutes.
We had an incident a couple of weeks ago where a security guard was slashed by a student he was apprehending. We were told at that time that random scanning of students was being considered, yet nothing has come of it.
I and most colleagues suffer from daily headaches, serious allergies, and fatigue, and we are noticing a consistent problem with respiratory infections and headache complaints from our students, yet we are told it is because of high carbon dioxide levels, and it is suggested that we keep our windows open. Of course, the students sitting near the windows get cold, then close them.
We expend more time and energy on the students who do not try, who show no respect, and who do not show up than we do on the students who attend regularly, work their butts off, and show respect.(We are supposed to do “outreach,” and call each student’s home any day s/he is late, does not return after lunch, or is absent.) It is a backwards, assways cauldron of chaos, poor planning, and coddling. There is no writing component to our intake process, the program’s assessment tests, and/or criteria for moving students to “the next level”. In fact, the existing criteria are not consistent from semester to semester. Tests are scheduled, then do not happen. The same test (the Test of Adult Basic Education — TABE) is given every 100 hours of instruction until a student reaches a reading level of 7.0, then is considered ready for the GED prep class proper, regardless of writing skills or math abilities. They are ill-prepared for the test and they are absolutely unprepared for college or gainful employment. It is a crock of shit, but when I and others attempt to insist on collaboration, or insist that, as the ones in the trenches, things must be changed, we are met with the silent treatment at best and hostility at worst.
Last year, I started a dialogue with the superintendent, who insisted that she was open to such communication and collaboration. Once I started pointing out the problems with the program and requesting or suggesting specific solutions, she asked the program principal to “take care of it”. Just for purposes of full disclosure, our superintendent’s educational credentials are those of a drama instructor.
Well, this program is definitely drama — bad drama. Until someone starts listening to the teachers rather than those who deal with these students one at a time (when they deem it important enough to do so) or not at all, it will remain a slow-moving juggernaut of frustration, high failure rates, and a target for yet more ill-conceived, wrong-headed “reorganization”. The neediest students in the city will be the ones harmed most, and this will translate, in some cases sooner and in others later, to great costs for our society.

I CANNOT STAND THE FARCE THAT IS THE PROGRAM I AM DESPERATELY TRYING TO TEACH WITHIN!
All right, so I’ll cover the work-related stuff in a separate blog post, though I’ll reference a few things below.
1. Why the hell are Paterson and Bloomberg jumping on the fear bandwagon when it comes to swine flu? If it’s such an emergency, why aren’t they suggesting school closings or telling people to avoid public transportation, nonessential transactions, and setting up sanitation troopers on the corners with wash basins for our hands? (Joking, of course, but for goodness’ sake, get a frigging grip. If the statistics are so bad, then act accordingly. Otherwise, shut the hell up and continue to pretend the best interests of the citizenry are driving your agendas, gentlemen. How much do you want to bet that no matter how bad swine flu might get, Yankee Statium will remain open? Hey, it’s open air. Of course, getting to and from the stadium — well, now, we won’t consider that.
2. So the fares have been raised this year by the MTA. Now they’re getting our money through the Metropolitan Commuter Transportation Mobility Tax because yet another bunch of yahoos can’t run a corporation without bailout money, ’cause the receipt of more money will suddenly clear everything up for everyone who couldn’t run it right in the first place. Yet, on a weekend of the World Series, a Halloween parade, and a marathon, the MTA will have screwed-up, limited service thanks to work they must do to make their subterranean wet dreams of more fare collection stations come true.
3. It was the wrong week to start — finally — reading Joey Kramer’s book. (See my blog on “A Process Is a Process” for more details on my FRUSTRATING WEEK FROM HELL.) I’m in the middle of chapter 1, and I was almost in tears two or three times already. It just makes me think of all the kids who are going through, and who have been through, Joey’s type of childhood, and the very difficult adult lives they struggle with as a result. I’ve dealt with so very many of them, and I deal with them now, and I sometimes just feel awash with pain and fury that I cannot hug and help them all. I also cannot ignore the very real trauma that Joey’s father must’ve faced in the military. I have PTSD, and it’s awful, and I never went to war — at least not war in the traditional sense. On the other hand, Joey mentions that his father did not visit upon his daughters the same tyranny he leveled against his son, so one is left wondering: If he had the ability to catch himself with them, why did he give Joey so much hell? Was it merely the “Men have to take abuse to make them strong” or was it something darker? Who knows? All I know is that being a kid is a state fraught with so many risks, fears, and needs — I fear every day for my kids, and I’m damn glad I am grown up. In a fashion, anyway.(Grown up, that is.)

4. Hubby is moving his business to a new location in the next couple of months. We are very excited. We’re hoping it will help with the ridiculous increase in our mortgage.
5. Senator Fuschillo called me personally about my email. Despite phone tag, he kept trying until he reached me, and we chatted about the MCTMT.
6. Carnival Cruise Lines has assured me they are going to “investigate” my concerns. Uh huh. Great. I did learn from some friends that they, too, found the Carnival Triumph to be subpar when it came to service in general (Gary and I felt it was the least service-oriented vacation we have been on.) It certainly was an enjoyable cruise, but it was marred by the lower level service and the issues I brought to Carnival’s attention.
7. I should be receiving the settlement from the accident some time soon — thoroughly inadequate for everything I went through, but the most I could get from the driver’s policy. Frankly, I just wish it never happened. I still have to get the money to purchase back the 22 sick days I lost due to the accident, and because of the utter incompetence at the district office, that is being held up interminably. I’m really pissed off about it, especially since same said incompetence has managed to lose track of three of my time sheets from last year. They keep requesting them, meanwhile they have all the information at the office to put them together. I sent them twice– the original time, and again in June. There is such rampant disorganization in the program that I cannot stand it. This, of course, doesn’t come close to the overall absurdities, but that’s for another blog post: “A Process Is a Process.” Look for it in a post near you — next one, in fact.
8. President Obama is considering paying the Taliban to switch sides? Hello? What’s to stop them from accepting money and doing exactly what they are doing? Hey, I need a little dough. Anyone want to join the Taliban? Got a cash flow problem? Join some seriusly fucked-up, misogynistic lunatics and Uncle Sam will give you some green. Why don’t we just pay some serious dough for Osama? Um — gee, . . . maybe because where there is one, there are many. Maybe because where there is easy money, there is corruption, and greed, and back-stabbing. Hey, I know . . . let’s pay the Teabaggers to stop their scare tactics and lunacy at town hall meetings on health care! Oh, crap, that won’t work. Then we’ll have to raise their taxes . . .
Wow. I bet Obama will get a Nobel Peace Prize for a brilliant idea like this. Oh, wait! He’s been there, done that. Silly me.

Some time in the very near future, I will be posting an expose’ of sorts, a manifesto, and a statement of intention for how I’m going to go completely unorthodox on dealing with the absolute pile of pungent, roiling, deep bullshit that is the program I teach within. I have had it, and I’m ready to rumble.
Why this sudden urge to pillage and plunder the befouled swamp of absurdity? It’s simple: After being hit by that car last year, I no longer have any desire to apathetically and quietly watch as this system hurts my students, my colleagues, and me. I am tired of the omnipresent cowardice, the lunacy, and the never-changing ruination of certain members of our population. Another reason is that I had really high hopes with my new supervisor, a woman I like very much and who I believed was going to shake up the status quo in our building, particularly with respect to how disruptive students are handled. There are some promising changes being considered and even implemented, but some of the key issues handicapping the teachers and the students who truly want to learn are looming larger than ever! Stay tuned, because this could get very intense — perhaps retaliation against my speaking out intense! I’ll be posting and chronicling here — everything and anything related to this crusade.

Governor’s contact information available at:
http://www.state.ny.us/governor/contact/index.html

(I think Joe’s butt needs a little space . . . )

Live Review: Aerosmith in Maui, HI
Published October 21, 2009 03:10 PM
By Suzanne Kayian / LiveDaily Contributor
It may have been a court-ordered show, but Tuesday’s (10/20) Aerosmith concert at the War Memorial Stadium in Maui definitely did not seem like a “settlement.” From the opening drum beats to the extended encore, The Bad Boys of Boston gave it their all and lived up to the “do not suck” clause in the lawsuit agreement that stemmed from a canceled 2007 show on the Hawaiian island.

The band’s set opened with a gathering of percussionists pounding a very Hawaiian-sounding beat as a troupe from a local hula halau (school) shimmied and shook in a manner worthy of Steven Tyler’s notorious stage gyrations. As the Hawaiian drums gave way to Joey Kramer’s driving intro to “Eat The Rich,” there was no doubt this audience was in for a treat.
After blasting through several songs that kept the crowd on their feet, Tyler brought out a ukulele, telling the crowd he was going to play something he learned while on the island in 1974. As he started to strum the tiny instrument, the band playfully overpowered him, breaking into the opening notes of “Dream On.”

The flamboyant frontman went with the flow and gave the audience what they had been waiting for: a performance that members of the Blue Army would proudly call kick-ass, far-out, tight, sick or most-excellent, depending on the generation. Tyler’s voice was in great form and he didn’t disappoint as he hit those ultra-high notes that have made him often-imitated but not often-duplicated.

Peppering his between-song stage banter with local phrases including “Maui No Ka Oi” (Maui is the best), Tyler brought the ukulele out again, strumming a bit of the Hawaiian classic “Little Grass Shack.”

It quickly became apparent that this show was special for both the fans and the band. At one point, Perry stood under the starry sky, telling the crowd how much the band has wanted to play on the island since visiting in 1974. He practically took back his recent comments about Aerosmith being on “indefinite hiatus,” saying the band wouldn’t take that long for a return appearance.

The first all-out sing-along of the night came during “Cryin’,” as Tyler’s trademark scarves dangled from his mic stand while he twirled it like a weightless baton. After more than 30 years as a performer, his stage presence remains captivating.

However, those who think Aerosmith = Steven Tyler were pleasantly surprised to see Joe Perry carry a big chunk of the show. He shined while singing, his guitar work wailed and his showmanship was top-notch. He even gave the crowd a hushed-giggle when he busted out the butt of his black leather pants while the band rocked “Livin’ On The Edge.”

With Perry’s shirt quickly wrapped around his waist, the band was back on track as they plowed through a long, eclectic set that included “Big Ten Inch,” “Ragdoll,” and “Love in an Elevator.”

When it was Kramer’s time to shine, a fervent drum solo blazed into “Walk This Way.” The group was tight, with guitarist Brad Whitford and bassist Tom Hamilton totally in sync with their bandmates.

With cell-phone cameras snapping and audience members texting and Twittering, Aerosmith closed the night with a well-received rendition of “Sweet Emotion.” At the end of the song, Tyler got on his knees with arms overhead and repeatedly bowed to the crowd, evoking a “Wayne’s World” moment. “I’m not worthy,” he said, adding “Maui No Ka Oi” one more time.

The encore got underway with Perry playing dueling axes with his “Guitar Hero” alter ego. He told the audience, “Every week, someone comes up to me and says, ‘I played you and I beat you,’” and then he proceeded to blow his digital self off the big screen.

Tyler returned to the stage for a rousing rendition of “Mama Kin” but the show wasn’t over yet. He once again showed his affection for his bandmates, sharing a story about meeting Perry and being impressed with his cover “Rattlesnake Shake.” As the band played the tune, the reported love-lost between Tyler and Perry seemed to be long gone and in its place stood the not-so-Toxic Twins in all their glory.

Wrapping up the evening with “Train Kept A-Rollin’,” one could see that Aerosmith had been touched by the magic of Maui. It was hard to believe that only a few days earlier, Perry didn’t have many nice things to say about his old friend, Tyler.

Before leaving the stage, Tyler took responsibility for the canceled 2007 show while expressing his love for the crowd, and Perry–almost tearfully–thanked the audience for making the band’s dreams come true.

Oh yeah, the fans loved it too.

Set List

Eat the Rich
Falling in Love (Is Hard On the Knees)
Ragdoll
Walking the Dog
Dream On
Last Child
Same Old Song and Dance
Combination
Stop Messin’ Around
Love in an Elevator
Cryin’
Livin’ on the Edge
Big Ten Inch
Walk This Way
Sweet Emotion
Encore
Guitar Hero
Mama Kin
Rattlesnake Shake
Train Kept A-Rollin’