Here is a reminder that Half Nelson will be out on DVD on February 13th. I won't tell you it's as good as I told myself it was going to be, and I won't necessarily even recommend you see it. But if you see it, I'd be interested in hearing what you think. One thing is for sure, if you've gone out and seen Freedom Writers, perhaps you should definitely give Half Nelson a chance in order balance things out a bit, if nothing else. While Freedom Writers is in fact based on a true story, and the Dateline special I saw is, I'm sure, just as remarkable as the Hollywood version, there are a lot of days where I--and the majority of inner-city teachers--feel a lot more like Ryan Gosling (nominated for Best Actor, by the way) than Hilary Swank. My problems or struggles are not as severe as a crack addiction, but they are just as present and troubling.

That being said, last night Erica and I took two of our nieces ice skating. We tried to go to the free outdoor rink in Emmaus, but temperatures were too high, I guess, causing several puddles and a few large cracks, forcing evacuation shortly after we arrived. We went to the rink here in Bethlehem, then, the one less than a mile away from my school.

After lacing up all of our skates and venturing onto the ice, it was only a matter of minutes before several of my students and their friends spotted me. Why didn't I expect this, or think of it sooner?

They skated up and said hello, and I introduced them to my wife and promptly warned them that this experience--the sight of me on ice skates--was never to be brought up in the classroom or used against me in any way. They told me my girls were beautiful, and while I thanked them, I made sure they were aware that they were only nieces. But if they, in school, continue to call my wife my "girlfriend," I'm sure they'll continue to call my nieces my "daughters." We'll see.

So, we skated. And you would think that middle school students would avoid their teacher on the weekend, but they wouldn't get away from us! And you know what? It was great! They helped up the girls when they fell, they chased me around, we smiled and laughed, we joked with each other. They were nice, reasonably polite, and at the end of the night they said, "See you on Monday, Mister!"

When I explained to my nieces that these girls were my students from school, they were amazed. I presume part of the reason for their astonishment was that, in their school, they've never seen a group of Puerto Rican girls, and it isn't what their middle-class-white-and-elementary minds envision when they hear that I'm a teacher.

As we left, another group of kids called to me, and I recognized some of them as last year's eighth graders. I didn't have any of them in class, but they asked if I was a math teacher at Broughal and I said yes. I asked how high school was treating them and they were all very positive and pleasant.

I was glad to interact with these kids on this level. I was glad they could see me as a husband, as an uncle, as a person who likes to have fun. I was glad they spotted me having fun at an ice rink with my family rather than coming out of the neighborhood bar. I was glad that, for this brief hour, I wasn't just a scowl peering through the light of an overhead projector. The fun we were all having seemed very much like a scene out of the movies...for the first time in my short teaching career, I did feel almost like Michelle Pfeiffer or Hilary Swank.

At a time where I'm trying to decide if teaching is really the career for me, this experience only complicated matters.

So, all this to say, when you make a movie about my teaching career, put a scene with ice skating in it.

what is it about school fundraising hoagies--stale and soggy as they are--that makes them taste so good?

Everyone loves buying their favorite album on vinyl...but really, how practical is it? The only place you can listen to your favorite record is on your record player in the livingroom...you don't have a turntable in your bathroom, and you definitely don't have one in your car, and last I checked your handy little iPod isn't compatible with LPs. And if that's the case, why bother with vinyl?

So I've always wished that bands would give mp3's or at least CD-Rs of their songs with the vinyl version...you're paying for the music, but you don't really have the freedom to listen to it whenever or wherever you want.

Well, good news vinyl-fans...starting with The Shins and for every release thereafter, Sub Pop will give free mp3 downloads with their LPs. It's genius. Let's hope it catches on.

Of course, if you're a music pirate with all the latest piracy software, this doesn't excite you very much. As for me, I've fallen away from the piracy scene since leaving college with all of its piracy ease, where with a few clicks, you could pretty much find whatever you wanted from all the guys living in the dorm.

Grand totals for the 2nd quarter....10 A's, 13 B's, 17 C's, 12 F's. (Our school doesn't give D's.) For those of you who aren't math teachers, that's just about 1 out of every 4 kids failing.

Too many music releases to keep up with this season...in post rock: Six Parts Seven, Explosions in the Sky, the 4-way EP release from BTV, the Unwed Sailor EP+LP package also from BTV...and in other genres: The Shins, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, Richard Swift, Arcade Fire...and there's more...who else am I forgetting?

Two men I knew died recently within a week of each other. Both deaths were sudden and unexpected.

One was a man from my church, a husband and father with three daughters close to my age. He liked to ski and enjoyed inventing goofy games. He made his living as a carpenter and everyone thought highly of him. He went unconscious while driving home from work, and his coworker got the car to the side of the road and flagged down some help, but he never woke up again.

The other man was my high school social studies teacher. He was a popular teacher who liked sports and had a unique sense of humor that, if nothing else, kept things interesting in the classroom. If you would ask me, I'd say he was a pretty poor teacher for a variety of reasons, but most everyone else thought he was great. He was not married and had no family. After decades of obviously being very lonely and depressed, and in the middle of being on trial for paying male students to work around his house in various stages of undress and asking them to pose nude, he killed himself by running his car in his garage.

The father from church had a funeral that was attended by family, friends, coworkers, and all sorts of people. They all said wonderful things about him, mourned over him, laughed fondly at stories of him, and celebrated at the thought of him "going home," even though everyone continues to wonder why exactly he had to go so soon. He was buried in the church cemetery, where his grave will be visited often. His story appeared in the obituary section of the newspaper, and people left thoughtful comments in the online guestbook.

But my teacher...Did he have a funeral? Where is he buried? Who took care of the arrangements? Anyone other than police officers, coroners and hospital staff? Who is sad that he is gone? There was no obituary, just hateful comments left in the forums of the online articles written about him, saying he did us all a favor. His house, a few blocks away from ours, is dark and empty. Who will take care of it? What good can be said? He was a good teacher? We'd all like to say that, but even that, sadly, is debatable. Who is mourning for this man? For most, it is little more than a sigh and a shake of the head in disbelief, then a hasty returning to daily tasks only to ignore and conveniently forget such bleak thoughts.

on sunday, we had the great pleasure of finally seeing christopher guest's latest, for your consideration.

the critics are probably right in saying that it's nowhere near as good as his other movies. and my wife is probably right in saying that it's just not funny.

but make no mistake...the way christopher guest portrays real life is absolutely hilarious. the jokes aren't funny, no, and the characters aren't that funny, true, but the absurdity of real life, the fact that these actors do a stunning job of mimicking how people really truly act (and ridiculously so), THAT'S funny. the jokes that don't make any sense? that's what's funny. because people tell them. and they find themselves hilarious. and it's true. and that's what's funny.

and it's for that reason that christopher guest is a genius.

January 2nd: the saddest day of the year.

The kids have returned to school begrudgingly, and their teachers (except in Bethlehem) even moreso. The adults have returned to work, and this magical week of vacation in which all sense of time and routine were lost somewhere in the pile of wrapping paper is now nothing but a hangover or bulging wasteline, a fading memory and a few extra quaint trinkets or shiny gadgets sitting in a pile waiting to be assimilated with the rest of the house.

Dying Christmas trees line the side of the road. Our neighbor already has her lights and decorations packed away, so there is no longer a faint glow floating through our windows at night, and as I walked through the neighborhood just now, several others were dismantling their part in the festivities with tired looks on their faces.

And so, reality is back again. Back to routines and busyness, making money and ignoring others. Back to living for the weekend and hating Mondays, muttering complaints all the while. Back to self-centered living. The proverbial 9 to 5 to 40 or more grindstone, like every good, responsible American.

But must this be reality? Can we find no other reason throughout the year to celebrate like this? No other reason to act wacky and childish, to hang gaudy decorations, to do something nice for others, to walk around singing songs to neighbors, to sing songs in general, to relax, to take a break, to engage in relationships?

Can not the Word made Flesh be the reason for these things all year round?

If grace and truth have been united, not just for one week, but at that moment in history making it true for us even now, and if the Word made Flesh made his dwelling among us and continues to dwell in us even now, should we not make music in our hearts continually, love our neighbors continually, take time to reflect continually, engage in relationships continually?

(The gaudy decorations can be optional. I find no Biblical support for them.)

And all of this makes one wonder with Charlie Brown, have any of us, Christians included, completely grasped the true meaning of Christmas?