if any of you have any experience or wisdom to share for traveling in europe--best places to visit, where to stay, cheap ways to get there, and/or resources to use in planning--let me know.

Erica and I just finished watching Stranger Than Fiction. Finally, a movie we could both enjoy at the same time! It was quite good, so this is me recommending it to you. You'll probably be reading my thoughts about it in the upcoming days.

One student's artistic rendering of me, a way to pass the time after finishing the PSSAs...
I was both pleased and surprised by the large, jovial grin with which she chose to portray me. When thinking of what else she could add, it struck her and she exclaimed, "Zits!" She quickly picked up her red colored pencil, but I intervened, asking, "Do you really need to add those?" She reconsidered and, strangely enough, chose instead to add my "mustache growing in." If you look at the large version of the picture, you can see the subtle green dots she added on my upper lip. Such exquisite detail, no?

Perhaps I was just glad to receive a drawing that didn't portray me as a nerd with sweaty armpits or Spiderman, the two most frequent choices.

reading THIS made me awfully sad i was missing out...

Just when I was getting over the pain and turmoil caused by the argyle sweater, I was ridiculed again today for wearing another outfit.

This one wasn't an expected target by any means. I've worn it before, and it's a nice business-casual, under-the-radar, classic option. I would even expect it to earn a few cool points from the kids, at least subconsciously.

It's a green polo shirt. I'm no color expert, but let's say, oh, maybe, grass green. It looks kind of like this, only a little brighter:
I don't know what it is about the color green, but pretty much EVERY kid gave me hard time for wearing it today. There's something about the color green, something every kid in my school knows about, that makes them despise the color, so much so that they are mad at you for wearing it.

I have no idea.

Is green just out of style with middle schoolers at the moment? Am I simply at a low point in the trend?

Or is it the color of a rival gang? (Yes, we have rival gangs at our school; it's a good possibility.)

Or is there some sort of cultural consensus, some superstition or unwritten rule about wearing green?

Actually, I think the last one's the answer...

I laughed when that New York Times article mentioned the audacious question "Are you gay?," because you would not believe how many times I hear it. Actually, most students aren't courteous enough to ask, they just tell me I'm gay instead, insisting on it, giving me no say in the matter.

But last week I wore another green shirt, and one girl said, "You can't wear green today! It means you're gay!" And someone else said, "You can't wear green yet!" Then, today, everyone was referring to it as a "gay color." And once again, the New York Times hit the nail on the head: do you ignore it or discuss it? With one of my classes, I attempted to explain that being gay involves a lot more than wearing a certain color, and that colors themselves, inherently, cannot possibly be gay, and so on and so forth, but I don't think they were picking up what I was laying down. No matter how many times I told them to "grow up," they continued.

(One girl, after ridiculing my green shirt and calling me gay, went so far as to insist that my wife was just a cover up!)

So, I don't really get it, but I do think someone started a certain "Heterosexuals don't wear green on Thursdays" rule and everyone's decided to follow it.

Ridiculous, I know, but let's remember that while you and I never made up the green-on-Thursday rule, we had all sorts of little immature games just the same. A friend recently recalled asking everyone in middle school if they were "PT"...if they said yes, they were a Pregnant Teen...if they said no...they were not Potty Trained. Sadly enough, we all did it. It's a wonderful stage of life.

Couldn't God have wired adolescents just a little bit differently? Just a little bit more normally?

In Philadelphia, researchers found that 34.2 percent of new middle school teachers in one representative year quit after their first year, compared with 21.1 percent of elementary school teachers and 26.3 percent of high school teachers.

"There was a lot more anger and outbursts," Christian Clarke, 29, a Bronx high school teacher, recalled of the students he encountered during his four years teaching middle school. "Twice as much time was spent on putting out fires; twice as much time was spent getting the class quiet. Twice as much time was spent on defusing anger in the kids."

A good middle school teacher needs to know how to channel such anger into class work, and whether inappropriate questions like "Are you gay?" (as a Seth Low student recently asked her math teacher) merit serious discussion or feigned deafness.

"You have to have a huge sense of humor and a small ego," said Jason Levy, the principal of Intermediate School 339 in the Bronx.

--The New York Times

Last night at Bible study, a story from the life of Gideon was brought to our attention.

On the whole, it seems like Gideon had his fair share of doubts, perhaps mostly in himself. He lacked confidence and, in some ways, was mostly a coward. And yet God chose to use him and made him a mighty warrior and a bold leader. And yet every time, it seems that Gideon came back to ask God in disbelief, "Really? Are you sure? Me? That? How?"

I think I can relate.

But it was during one of those times where Gideon was yet again seeking some reassurance that he and a buddy ventured into enemy territory to do some eavesdropping. Already anxious about the impending battle, now with heart pounding, adrenaline pumping, Gideon was close enough to the enemy to hear their conversations. He arrives just in time to hear exactly the conversation for which he came: one man sharing a dream, and the other interpreting that surely it meant they will face defeat. God was on Gideon's side (or vice versa?) and the Midianites would be handed over without much--if any--of a fight.

"When Gideon heard the dream and its interpretation, he worshiped God."

How was it that Gideon worshiped God? A song and dance? A loud, profound prayer? Surely these would not have been chosen methods of worship in the middle of a spy mission behind enemy lines.

No, rather, I picture his eyes closing, a smile of reassurance--growing confidence--appearing, his lungs filling with air then exhaling in a large sigh of relief. Muscles relaxing, tension receding, there was worship in the carbon dioxide rushing through his nostrils. He paused in that moment before rushing back to camp to share the news, silently worshiping the God who gives enough grace to equip the hesitant with all that is needed to complete the task at hand, even if it's as simple as the confidence gained from an overheard dream. His quiet, jubilant relief was worship indeed.

(Judges 7)

I've been listening to the new Richard Swift album, which can be streamed at Secretly Canadian. It's really quite wonderful. Yes, I love it. Check it out. Jared's sending it to me on vinyl soon, for which I am excited, and which also reminds me I still need to send you some $$, Jared, which I'll be sure to do. Speaking of Secretly Canadian and Jared...Jared's gonna be the new forklift driver for the SC warehouse, everyone! Be sure to stop by Village Green Records before March 31st and congratulate him and wish him well!

I gave Arcade Fire's Neon Bible its first two full listens tonight. It is also pretty incredible. I've heard several people compare some of the songs to Bruce Springsteen, and holy moly, they weren't kidding. But, yes, it's decent. Check it out.

yeah, so, apparently mac didn't get that new daylight savings bug worked out, or maybe i didn't get the needed software update, but all i know is i didn't figure out that my laptop was still an hour behind until right at 7:00, the time when i was supposed to be starting worship at bible study, which is a good 20 minutes away from my house.

whoops.

it always happens to at least one person...i was the lucky guy this time around.

Why burn poor and lonely under a bowl, under a lampshade or on
the shelf beside the bed where at night you lay turning like a door
on its hinges? (first on your left side, then on your right side, then
your left side again.)  Why burn poor and lonely? Tell all the stones
we're gonna make a building. We'll be cut into shape, and set into
place.  Or if you'd rather be a window, I'll gladly be the frame
reflecting any kind words, we'll let in all the blame (and ruin our
reputation all the same).  So never mind our plan making, we'll start
living! Anyway, aren't you unbearably sad? Then why burn so poor
and lonely?  We'll be like torches! We'll be like torches together!
With whatever respect out tattered dignity demands, torches together,
hand in hand.  Why pluck one string?  What good is just one note? Oh,
one string sounds fine, I guess, and we were once 'one notes'. We
were lonely wheat, quietly ground into grain! (What light and
momentary pain!) So why this safe distance, this curious look? Why
tear out single pages when you can throw away the book? Why pluck
one string when you can strum the guitar?  Strum the guitar! With no
beginning, with no end, take down a guitar and strum the guitar!
Strum the guitar if you're afraid,  And I'm afraid and you're afraid and
everyone's afraid and everyone knows it, but we don't have to be
afraid anymore!  (You played the flute, but no one was dancing!  You
played a sad song, but none of us cried!)

Consequently, you are no longer foreigners and aliens, but fellow
citizens with God's people and members of God's household, built
on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus
himself as the chief cornerstone. In him the whole building is joined
together and rises to become a holy temple in the Lord. And in him
you too are being built together to become a dwelling in which God
lives by his Spirit.

It was he who gave some to be apostles, some to be prophets, some to
be evangelists, and some to be pastors and teachers, to prepare God's
people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up
until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son
of God  and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the
fullness of Christ. Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and
forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of
teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of men in their deceitful
scheming. Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will in all things grow
up into him who is the Head, that is, Christ. From him the whole body,
joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and
builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.

The body is a unit, though it is made up of many parts; and though all
its parts are many, they form one body. So it is with Christ. For we
were all baptized by one Spirit into one body—whether Jews or Greeks,
slave or free—and we were all given the one Spirit to drink. Now the
body is not made up of one part but of many. If the foot should say,
"Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body," it would not for
that reason cease to be part of the body. And if the ear should say,
"Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body," it would not
for that reason cease to be part of the body. If the whole body were an
eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an
ear, where would the sense of smell be? But in fact God has arranged
the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be.
If they were all one part, where would the body be? As it is, there are
many parts, but one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, "I don't need
you!" And the head cannot say to the feet, "I don't need you!" On the
contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are
indispensable, and the parts that we think are less honorable we treat
with special honor. And the parts that are unpresentable are treated
with special modesty, while our presentable parts need no special
treatment. But God has combined the members of the body and has
given greater honor to the parts that lacked it, so that there should be
no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for
each other. If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is
honored, every part rejoices with it. Now you are the body of Christ,
and each one of you is a part of it.

Listen to me, you who pursue righteousness
and who seek the LORD :
Look to the rock from which you were cut
and to the quarry from which you were hewn!

For those of you wondering, here's the sweater in question from the other day. You be the judge:
...the one boy told me I looked like I was dressed for a funeral. Ironically enough, the only other time I've worn the sweater was, in fact, for a funeral. I almost opened my big mouth and told him that, but ended up not giving him that satisfaction.

If there is one song from one album you should listen to today, it is Four Tet's remix of Explosions in the Sky's Catastophe and the Cure. Wonderfully surprising electronic music with excellent drumming, a welcome improvement on a song from a continually disappointing album.

If there is one chapter from one book you should read today, it is Chapter Seven: The Least of These from Jeffrey Overstreet's Through a Screen Darkly. I've really been enjoying Overstreet's reflections on film, but this chapter has been the most moving to me, reminding me the potential power film holds to pull us out of comfort and complacency, if only we give it an honest, open chance. It made me want to start an annual film festival at church....if only... It also made me want to watch Born into Brothels and Motorcycle Diaries again, and it made me want to give The Five Obstructions a second chance. But anyway, it's a fairly short chapter. Find your way to Barnes and Noble and take some time to read it.

In other news, we got a freebie of a snow day today. The roads really don't seem to be that bad, but the threat of constant light snow throughout the day was too much to gamble with. Between today's break and Daylight Savings on Sunday, will kids really be able to handle the PSSA's starting on Monday?? At least we'll have two good excuses when the results come over the summer.

For some reason, I've always wanted an argyle sweater. Knowing this, Erica got me one for Christmas.

I like it a lot, but it's a daring fashion move for me. I've never worn it to work, mostly because 1) I get really hot in my room as it is and 2) I just don't have the guts.

But, I got up the nerve to wear it today. And boy was it a mistake.

I got torn to shreds! Eaten alive!

I walked into the school and saw one of my students. The first words out of his mouth were: "Mister...what's up with that shirt?" My colleague across the hall saw it and said, "Whoa, where'd you get that?!?" I walked into another teacher's room to drop something off for him, and one of my classes was in the room. As soon as I entered, I heard uproarious laughter. Someone yelled, "Mister! What are you wearing?!?"

And it continued the rest of the day.

A few girls asked me where I got it, and I informed them that my wife bought it for me. They screamed at each other, "SEE?! I told you!" Then they asked if my wife threatened to divorce me if I didn't wear it. Why else would I be wearing it? they asked.

Others asked if my mom or grandmother had bought it for me, causing them to ask if I live in my mother's basement.

Another boy told me I looked like I was dressed for a funeral.

Never again. Sadly, that sweater's going in the dresser and staying there for quite some time. Do I care what middle schoolers think of me? Obviously not, or I would have quit a long time ago. But in the case of an argyle sweater, it's simply not worth the trouble.

It's only further proof that Middle Schoolers are the most miserable, brutal, heartless people on the face of planet.

This morning, in my continual quest to remain culturally relevant, especially with my gangsta students, Wes and some friends taught me what it means to "Ghost Ride the Whip," something that has apparently been all the rage recently, especially in the underground hip-hop and YouTube circuits.

For those of you who, like me, don't know what ghost-riding the whip consists of, allow me to explain. A car full of people puts on some loud hip-hop music, the driver puts the car in drive, and as it is moving everyone jumps out, dances, jumps on and off the car, and eventually gets back in before crashing into anything. It really is quite a thrill. (Wikipedia provides further explanation behind the phenomenon.)

I quickly learned the number one rule of ghost-riding: for those that are forgetting about the law of inertia, keep in mind at all times that you are moving and the ground is not. Therefore, when you jump off the car, it is not a good idea to plant your feet, as the top half of your body will then continue to move while the bottom of your half stays planted. This is how I quickly wiped out on the pavement in my second attempt of ghost riding. Thus, always a good idea to jump with your feet moving.

Be careful out there.

Speaking of relating to my students...do you think I'd be allowed to wear THIS on casual Fridays? It's pretty great, suits me pretty perfectly, and I'm pretty sure my kids would love it. They would laugh and laugh and probably say, as they often do, "You so white, mista!"

I hate to say it, but I am really loving the Explosions in the Sky CD of remixes way more than the actual album.

I have recently developed an odd obsession with scones. I was set to enjoy some on what I thought was going to be a snow day this past Monday, but when we ended up with only a delay, the scones were never made. After a two hour nap, I spent the rest of this evening further destressing by whipping up some blueberry almond scones. I kind of messed them up, but they're still pretty good.

...I'm such a little Suzy-Homemaker it hurts. A regular Proverbs 31 Woman. Did I ever tell you about the time Neville's dad did personality surveys with Erica and me? After explaining my results, he informed me that I'd make a great wife. It's pretty much true.

Umm...I'm gonna go clean my gun now. *grunt.*