The Failings of the Public School

Next year, I will again be teaching (or trying to) 10th and 11th graders, while watching my favorite students, who I’ve taught for the past two years, move on to AP Lit. It is not a happy day. My C and D students are being set up for failure, all in the name of a school grade.

It’s enought to make you lose hope.

Dreams

I had a dream last night that I gave birth. Apparently, there was something wrong with the baby, and it didn’t make it. The nurses covered for this mistake by giving me a different baby- a cabbage patch doll. Later, the cabbage patch doll turned into a beautiful baby boy with red hair and green eyes- “after his mother,” my husband said in his brief cameo.
When I woke I had a terrible desire for a baby and a wonderful terror for cabbage patch dolls.

Health Care

In the past month, I’ve been to the doctor more times than I can ever remember going in my entire life. I’ve had blood samples taken and tested four times, with a CAT scan scheduled for next month…. And I can’t help but wonder- how would a $5000 healthcare credit pay for all that?

Telluride Bluegrass Wrap-Up

Thursday, June 19th

We certainly had a memorable start to this year’s Bluegrass Festival.  We headed down to the park at around 11:30ish, arriving around Noon.  My dad had gone early to set up our blankets and chairs, and it was pretty easy to find.  We were pretty close to the front, right in the second section.  We had easy in and out because we were right on the line that marked off the walking paths.  Matt went off to explore, and I sat in one of the chairs reading Cat’s Cradle and listing to Cadillac Sky, who’s set included a kick-ass cover of Longview by Green Day.

 

 

 

 

During the set, I notice a lanky young man with bleach blond hair and a Black Sabbath t-shirt walking toward me.  My heart started palpatating a little bit as he sat down on the tarp next to me.  Immediately my eyes went to the tattoos on his arm: yep, I was sitting next to Ryan Adams.  I, being a chicken, just sat in my chair.  Soon, Matt returned, and introduced us to Ryan.  Shortly thereafter, he asked if he could join us on our blanket.  

Over the next few hours, we talked about everything from the setlist to what music he listens to (classical and death metal), his arthritis, his relationship status (single), other musicians (Bob Mould), Telluride, and more.  He even took a phone call and told the person on the other line that he was going to hang out with his friends (us) for a while longer and not to worry about him.  

He left shortly after Uncle Earl finished 

their set, but not before I got a picture. We definitely bumped heads in the process of taking this picture.  But that’s okay.  

He came back after an hour or so with Laura Meyer, an artist who was playing in between acts.  He introduced us to her and also gave us her CD’s – earlier he had talked about how much he liked her.  It was a pretty thoughtful gesture.

Also, Matt mentioned to him that we had used his version of Wonderwall in our wedding.  Apparently he thought that was pretty cool, and he played it during his set.  We’re kind of hoping it was for us.

In addition to all that excitement, we saw Arlo Gurthrie (who told more stories than sang songs) and Ani DiFranco.  Ani was great as always, and played a great mix of old and new.

Ryan was the last act of the day.  He opened with Peaceful Valley, and also played a pretty okay mix of songs.  I know a lot of people want

ed to hear more of Gold, but I was happy with what was played.

Friday, June 20

We really blew it out on Thursday, so we decided to take it easy on Friday.   So easy, in fact, that we only made it for one set, Paolo Nutini.

Paolo was pretty awesome – everyone seemed to dig it and everyone was dancing their asses off.

After that, we went to Smugglers for dinner and just hung around the house.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Saturday, June 21

I’m not going to lie, I was pretty effing happy about this day.  We went to a workshop in Elk’s Park help by Glen Hansard (of Frames and Once fame) and it was really just a really intimate concert. He played a few covers and a song he wrote when he was 16 or so.  Marketa (Once) was with him, as was the fiddle player from the Frames.  After their set, we stopped for a minute to get a picture with them.  I also got some videos.  All these are on my camera, which I neglected to bring the cord for, so those will come later.  Below are some pics that Matt took.  Click the thumbnail for the full size.

    

After dinner we headed back to the fest for the Frames.  I have been a HUGE Frames fan since around 2000, so I was VERY excited to see them play.  They did not disappoint, even though the next day Glen apologized for the bad energy – I thought they sounded wonderful.

Sunday, June 22

We had another easy day here.  We went into the fest to see The Swell Season – otherwise known as the band Marketa and Glen formed because of the movie Once.  They were just magical, playing almost every song from the movie, as well as some covers and a couple Frames songs.  They finished with a cover a Heyday (of Guinness commercial fame) with everyone singing along.  It was amazing.

 

 

Best. Bluegrass.  Ever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thoughts on To-hell-you-ride

The more time I spend here, the more I realize that this really is one of the most beautiful, natural places in the United States.  The fact that it is ridiculously hard to get to doesn’t hurt, either.  The weather has been beautiful since we got here, and everything just seems to be a little magical.

Two days ago, we hiked down the mountain that separates Mountain Village (where our house is) to the town of Telluride.  When we reached the bottom, we were greeted by the sight of a horse-drawn stage coach, which was part of Wild West Fest.  Wild West Fest is put on by the New Sheridan and it’s a celebration for the boys and girls clubs – 50 kids from around the country get a free trip to Telluride and lots of stuff to do.  

Past the stagecoach was what we had wandered into town for – the Farmer’s Market.  Everything was there from jams and jellies to elk meats to jewelry to whatever you can imagine.  I just had to buy something – so I bought a jar or spiced peach preserves (yum!) from a company in Durango (about 2 hours from Telluride) called High Desert Foods.  

That night, we came home and I cooked dinner for us all, and mixed some of the peach preserves in with some balsamic vinaigrette.  This dressing went with a salad of fresh herb lettuce, apples, and walnuts.  Yum!  The main dish was one of my old standbys: Rotini pasta with chicken, tomatoes, and goat cheese.  However, since we were among vegetarians, I used seitan instead of chicken.  We took advantage of the wonderful weather and sat outside on the porch.

That was our farewell dinner to Patrick and Stephanie, and life here in paradise has calmed down a bit.  Matt’s nursing a blister on the bottom of his foot, so we can’t do any hiking together – but our next trail will be Bear Creek.  I’ve been trying to master running at this ridiculous altitude (about 9500 feet) along the Mountain Village Blvd. Trail.  I’m getting a little better each day – yesterday I only made it to the grocery store (about .75 miles) and today I almost made it the whole way, about 2 miles one way. I did not run the whole way though.

Until next time.

Philip Roth

Thank you, Ugly Betty.  This is now all I can think of when I think of my favorite author now.BTW – Portnoy’s Complaint: not his best. 

Teaching

Writing recommendations is a strange thing.  It means two things: first, that the student really likes you, and two, that the student thinks you like them back.

It warms the heart a little.

She runs faster than her dreams

faster than the man on the corner whipping up a fresh batch of empty promises.

faster than her work and her time, faster than the world.

Supposedly

I don’t really believe my own hype.

Song for Someone

   As I was running by this house, this house I have passed a million times, I stopped for a moment as I heard a choir singing.  It was Christmas, and though the sun was out, the people inside had lit up their brilliant tree, smiling out the windows – not at me, but at the people turning up the walkway to join in their party.      

 The sound wasn’t simply a stereo.  Nor was it a child, dressed in their finest clothes and paraded out for family friends to ooh and aah and envy because their child was not so well behaved.  It was an actual choir, complete with robes and angelic voices, and the sound amplified as the hostess opened the door to receive her guests.     

    I remember feeling warm and comfortable, like this was the way a neighborhood was supposed to be, my Americana, my home.