Getting Older?

     "What are you doing to me!?" my knee protested as I stood up from the dinner table.  Pains in my right knee, pains in my left shoulder, pains in my pains.  Does it indicate age?  I'm not sure, but it leads to other questions on the subject of aging.

     During the winter holidays I happened to be near a television and spent some time flipping through the channels.  I quickly realized why my wife and I don't watch the glowing box.  The programs that were on held no interest whatsoever. American Idol Cribs of Sportscenter.  Why? Who cares?  Is this the signs of the Apocalypse?  As my index finger pushed Off on the remote, I wondered again about age and aging.  

My lack of interest in "popular" culture could be construed by some as being out of touch.  In fact, my disgust sounds an awful lot like the ranting of an angry old man.  Yet, I'm only just entering my 10th decade - far from "old".  Telemark skiing in the back country and racing cyclocross in wet muddy conditions hardly indicate old.

     Another way to look at the bad taste left after my attempt at watching today's t.v. doesn't come from getting old but originates from the fact that my "popular" culture differs from the general culture.  I'm okay with not knowing who is in the Super Bowl or which singer leads the American Idol competition.  Being up to date on who USA Cycling will send to Italy for the Cyclocross World Championships and what EJ Dionne thinks about the most recent primary election matters much more.  

     So I will be content with and revel in my out-of-touchness because it means different interests rather than growing older.  

Another Day in Paradise

Winter has officially arrived. Snow covers the grass, the wet pavement reflects the grey overcast sky, and 25% of my 5th grade class is out sick.
I tried to keep Michelle from looking outside before she'd had her first cup of coffee, but she looked before I warned. Let's just say that days like today are not her favorite, especially when Google weather lists the temperature in Charleston as 71 degrees. Surely her sister is walking on the beach with Scout in short sleeves and flip-flops. Having to bundle up in an insulated coat, wool hat and long handles makes it just a little more difficult to get moving.
As for me, the grey snowy morning brings out the first stirrings of ski season. Knowing that snow has finally begun to cover the slopes - all of them, not just the ski runs man-made "snow" -inspires me to brave the ladder and the garage crawl space to retrieve my ski bag.
I-70 remains too daunting a path to hit a resort, but our plans to rediscover the backcountry at Berthoud Pass gets the blood pumping in the ski legs.

A Day of Writing

Where have I been? Who cares? Someone does? So for that one person who does...the monkey is back. The last couple of months have been a vortex of endings swirling with beginnings. End of summer...start of year number 10 in the classroom; end of pain-free riding...beginning of physical therapy. Each instance contains memories and moments I hope to share in this space.

My fifth grade students recently spent a day away from school doing nothing but writing...well almost nothing. Hopping on a bus with 65 10 and 11 year olds is far from nothing. How do bus drivers do it every day? My two teammates and I set up three stations at a local park near the creek winding its way through town. One "station" was focused on small moments where the kids looked at small things - a ripple in the creek, the root of a tree, etc - and describe what they see. Another "station" had the kids look at large spaces - a mountain, a tree from roots to canopy - to generate large ideas of illicite memories to write about in their notebooks. In the last area, the kids played cooperative Raccoon Games and wrote about their personal interactions.

Kids who struggles with the "I have nothing to write about" syndrome filled page after page of their notebooks with ideas and musings. I was amazed how many of our kids had never been to a place that is minutes from where they live. This day outside was well worth the bus ride.

This monkey will be typing most days and occasionally something worth reading will result. Read it, enjoy it, comment if you desire.