Apparently Dennis Fermoyle is using his time away from the classroom wisely. Me, not so much. I could be getting online everyday to search for a new job in Connecticut--where I am moving to at the end of this month. But I don't have the emotional energy. So, instead I have been using my summer vacation as just that, a vacation.
I haven't been able to muster up much of anything in the way of educational blogging, only a few musings about how much I miss my seniors--which I promised them I wouldn't do: I hate being wrong!
I have played a few rounds of golf. I find myself wondering two things. One, why does golf have to be so expensive? And two, could I ever shoot par if I played once a day for an entire summer?
I have played some poker, though not as much as during the school year. A group of colleauges and our wives would get together on a weekly basis to play Texas Hold'em. I've wondered the same two things about poker as I have about golf.
I have read one book completely, Losing My Faculties. I began reading Writing about Your Life, by William Zinsser. I would have finished it by now except an esteemed college professor bought me The Power of One, by Bryce Courtenay. I read the first chapter and now I am hooked. Once I finish this novel, I will return to Zinsser's book. And then, I will reread the other book that my esteemed professor gave to me, The Sparrow, by Mary Doria Russell.
I have watched the four disc DVD set on Hulk Hogan, the great professional wrestler. I used to watch what was then the WWF every Saturday morning--my father instructing us to not tell our mother. I couldn't help but get caught up in the hysteria of Hulkamania that the movie stirs up. Yes, I knew it was fake then, and I know it is fake now, but the drama, oh, the drama.
I have also begun to watch MLB's retrospective on the career of Cal Ripken Jr., my baseball idol. I first watched the overview DVD and then the DVD that had the entire game from September 6, 1995 when Ripken reached 2,131 consecutive games. I sat on my couch, tears welling up in my eyes just as they had that night. Later today I will watch the DVD that has Ripken's final All-Star game on it. It was here in Seattle and I payed $300 dollars to a scalper to get into it. I ended up taking my most prized photo, which hangs in my office, of Ripken hitting a homerun in that final game--the ball is leaving the bat.
My house still has not sold. My wife and daughter are enjoying the lake where I will join them at the end of this month. We still don't have jobs, but I still can't get away from this being the best decision for our family.
All in all, not a bad summer if you ask me.