The Never-Ending Apple Wars of Summer

Bookmark and Share

The dynamics between the kids on Abbott Parkway were complex. There was always this “boys against girls” thing.

It started in school. By fourth grade, it got to where boys intercepted notes girls tried to pass to one another. Sometimes the boys would read them. Sometimes the boys would pass them to our teacher, Miss Powell. Miss Powell didn’t take too kindly to note passing.

This tension spilled over to the neighborhood. Several girls from our grade played on the Continue Reading “The Never-Ending Apple Wars of Summer”

A Salute to My Greatest (and Most Favorite) Teacher

Bookmark and Share

What’s the difference between a mentor and a teacher? Dictionary enthusiasts will quickly point out a teacher imparts broad knowledge while mentors provide advice and guidance. Teachers offer lessons you can apply generally to all aspects of life. Mentors show us how to live a very specific aspect of our lives. Teachers educate. Mentors demonstrate.

These are very universal terms. Certainly, teachers give advice and mentors instruct. Since I’ve had great teachers and great mentors (not to mention great coaches, a wholly different creature), I want to make the distinction as stark as possible.

By their very nature, it’s likely you experienced your greatest teacher as a young child. There’s a number of good reasons for this. Youth represents your most formative – your most impressionable – years. Elementary school teachers therefore occupy the greatest Continue Reading “A Salute to My Greatest (and Most Favorite) Teacher”

Was This Written 50 Years Too Early or 50 Years Too Late?

Bookmark and Share

I‘ve always been puzzled by this thought: Was I born 50 years too early or 50 years too late? This thought resurfaced this week as I rode the train back and forth to Chicago while the rest of the world dazzled itself with remembering the 50th anniversary of Apollo 11.

It reminds me of a skit I once did as Cubmaster for Peter’s pack. We had our meetings in the cavernous Mendon Firehall. It was always filled to capacity. Filled with boys, their parents, and their siblings.

That night I donned a pair of Buzz Lightyear “wings” (actually they were my young nephew’s and I don’t know how I fit them over my shoulders without overstretching them). After strutting a few steps with those wings, I added a Woody hat on top of my head.

Maybe one of the Toy Story movies was out that year.

In either case, I asked the pack to guess who I was. Some of the boys says “Buzz” and some said “Woody.” I said “Nope” to each guess. Then I looked up to the parents in Pack 105 and said – in a distinct John Wayne kind of voice – “Well, pilgrim, some people call me a ‘The Space Cowboy.’”

And so it has been in my life. Teetering on the precipice of “born too early” while simultaneously straddling the ledge of “born too late.” Some might view this as a Continue Reading “Was This Written 50 Years Too Early or 50 Years Too Late?”

After the Fall

Bookmark and Share

I grew up with concrete driveways. That’s what happens when your father and your grandfather were professional masons. I hated those concrete driveways in the winter. All my friends had blacktop driveways. Blacktop driveways retain heat better. When the snow falls on blacktop driveways, it melts (at least at first), making shoveling easier. When it falls on concrete driveways, it doesn’t melt. Try shoveling that. I vowed my house would have an asphalt driveway.

Of course, in those freak lake effect events, the snow accumulates quickly. Especially when it’s cold. Even blacktop driveways can’t help you with the shoveling.

That’s not the only way blacktop driveways can disappoint you.

Asphalt – the material of which blacktop driveways consist – tends to be more flexible than Continue Reading “After the Fall”

Earth Day and Kodak Bashing

Bookmark and Share

This Commentary originally appeared in the April 19, 1990 issue of The Mendon-Honeoye Falls-Lima Sentinel.]

 

CarosaCommentaryNewLogo_259Miss Powell possessed an unusual amount of progressiveness for a fourth grade teacher planning to retire in two years. One of three sisters, she had the kind of rugged individualism we, as Americans, have come to admire. She taught at Woodlawn Intermediate, located in the Bethlehem Steel industrial complex.

Teaching blue collar children, most of whom had been brought up in households full of ethnic ritual, must have been quite a Continue Reading “Earth Day and Kodak Bashing”

You cannot copy content of this page

Skip to content