Juicy

Today is Monday, the Monday after Thanksgiving. I typically enter the Monday workday feeling alright, but it soon becomes painfully obvious my mental capacity resembles that of a concussed man. Too much alcohol, pills, or smack you might ask? Negative, it's just the way I am.

A natural result of this brain-dead-um is that my production and efficiency is off a bit on Mondays, though it doesn't take much adrenaline to shoot me to the moon, though it takes more on Monday than any other day of the week. I'm a trooper, though, always saying to myself, "Just do your best, Chad."

So today I did my best. I drove to work, which always makes me sad--driving, not so much going to work--but I did so with good reason. Then I worked, because that's what I do on some level every time I get to work, after I eat a little breakfast from the ACES World Headquarters Commissary.

It was rainy and dark today, so it was dark in my office, lit only by a desk lamp rather than firing up the urine-stained lights overhead in my office. I got enough done, though I'm still at a draft point with something I'd rather be at a final draft point on.

I listened to some tunes today, some college radio music something on my (free) Sirius on the way to work, and a little 89.3 The Current while at work. I took off around 4:30, so I could give blood at a neighborhood blood drive. I needed to stop by the hardware and get some fake road salt stuff, because this rain today will freeze tomorrow. And the safety of the people is my utmost concern.

I gave blood, noticing that everyone continues to look familiar to me but I actually know none of them. It doesn't seem I've been around quite long enough for everyone to seem familiar, but who knows. I'll be more concerned when everyone smells the same.

Ever notice how over your life you will see people here and there who look the same as someone you saw, like, 20 years ago and 1,343 miles away? It's kind of like there are "styles" of people--not clothes style but face styles or something. It's weird.

There was a girl at the blood drive who looks like Leonardo DiCaprio.

I gave blood, some sort of double plasma reverse scenario, where they suck twice as much blood out, steal the red blood cells, then squirt it all back into you plus some saline. It made my face tingle and my head sizzle, fo' shizzle. Then I ate a taco and some mini Oreos. There are advantages to giving blood in a Catholic church, and having a taco bar at the ready is one of those.

Then I went home, and on my way home I heard "There There" by Radiohead (here's an acoustic version) on the college station. That was sweet.

"Just 'cause you feel it, doesn't mean it's there. There There."

Amen.

It's warm here, about 40 degrees. So I went home and decided to walk up to the coffee shop to grab some beans, so I did that. Then I came home, did my chores, heard "Down by the River" by The Decemberists for about the sixth time and really noticed the twanging REM-esque rhythmic guitar, which is awesome. Then I sat my tail down to read and watch a little basketball, for like nine minutes. Now I am blogging.

Next up, season two episode seven of The Wire. Then sleep. Maybe.

It's a good life. Tomorrow I will "not drive" (which means bike or transit, tomorrow transit) to work for the 95th time this calendar year. My goal is 100, so I'm almost there. At work I will meet early with Mike D, of the Beastie Boys, 'cause he's super smart and volunteered to help me out with a PowerPoint proposal I am working on. We'll do fine work, and he and I will both feel good about ourselves as we progress through our respective days.

Then I'll roam about the darkened downtown of Minneapolis till the lights guide me home.

Best Friends

Bernie was the best friend I could ever ask for, and I look forward to acquiring a new canine best friend very soon.

Today though, I got to be the best friend. I stopped by one of our school programs, as I do occasionally but not as much as I would like. Eventually I sat down with Bryan and Jose, two fourth graders at Maxfield Elementary in St. Paul. Bryan asked me if I used to be a cop, and I laughed and said no. I asked him and Jose if they like cops, both said yes--which is good and not always the answer you get from our students. I asked Bryan if he ever thought about being a cop when he gets older, and he said yes. I encouraged him to do so, and told him I thought he'd make an excellent cop.

Bryan and Jose were both working on math, and I was impressed with the complexity of their assignment. The wonderful world of media does a good job of brainwashing us that kids from certain segments of society are dumb. This is false.

Bryan was pretty well into his work, and you could tell he is quite sharp and all he needed was a little repetition, repetition, repetition to be extremely adept. Jose had finished his worksheet, and eventually I asked if I could see it. A large portion of his answers were incorrect.

So I worked with them both, having them talk me through the problems until they led me to the answer. Jose is easily distracted, and I told him he seemed like the type of guy who just liked to fill in his worksheet so he could move on to something more fun. He said I was correct. Jose is certainly smart enough, he just needs to focus and slow down, so we talked about that. He settled in nicely soon after.

Within a half hour, we had finished both of their worksheets and talked about many things, including how important school work is. I didn't want to leave, but I needed to get to our other school. In fact, I kept saying, two more minutes, two more minutes. I wanted to stay and help, not only Bryan and Jose, but several others who were looking for some assistance.

The world needs more tutors, people like you. The positive influence a caring adult can have on a child and student is immeasurable. Too many kids are fully capable but have no support outside of their classroom teachers, who have 30 kids to work with at once. Each of us has the opportunity to make a significant difference in a young person's life and within your community, all in just a few minutes a week. Not near enough of us seize upon that opportunity.

As I said goodbye to Bryan and Jose, they both said, "Thank you for coming to help us today."

All three of us had new best friends on this day.