It's a Sub Life

So, here's something new! I am getting dangerously close to having a career. A career I might actually not hate. Still... career... Just the word alone makes me want to run. Quickly, in any direction but towards continued stability and commitment. Funny, because I really don't think I have commitment issues generally, in life, but... you know, A CAREER. Gives me the WILLIES. It sounds so final, so binding, so necessary, so serious... so unwanted and unimagined.

And I don't even know what I would do with my time if I didn't work. I probably wouldn't do anything good; I would probably feel like a useless degenerate who needs to stop being so goddamn lazy and grow the fuck up already. Yes, that is exactly how I have felt. Therefore, I am actually, deeply and sincerely, grateful that I'm now on a path towards having a job that is both challenging and potentially very personally fulfilling. But it is still a JOB... But there are worse jobs to have... But getting up at 6am and wearing a tie and shaving at least every other day because I have to, makes me not want to do it... Even though, secretly, I am sorta enjoying pretending to be a grown-up. That's what it feels like still. Like I am putting on grown-up drag and playing the role. All the world's a stage... in this act I'm playing "teacher guy."

In the last month I have been Mr. Kodish (Mr. K, if you prefer), professional substitute teacher. I have taught 8th grade science and English, 6th grade band and English, and math, reading, and social studies in kindergarten-4th grade. Well, not so much taught as took on legal responsibility for a room full of kids for $13/hr. You remember when you had a substitute teacher in school, right? Actual teaching and learning was pretty much a lost cause. I am now that hapless adult standing haplessly in front of the classroom in your memories. The guy students are happy when they see, but not because they like me. Happy because they know, in their precious little delinquent hearts, that they now have absolutely no intention of giving a shit about schoolwork for the next 50 minutes or so. And they pretty much won't have to, sad to say. I have accepted my haplessness. I can try to teach, and I do, but there is really nothing stopping them from not paying me the slightest bit of attention... what am I, a freakin' sub, gonna do about it? Give them a bad grade? Can't. Call their parents? Can't. Send them to detention? A free paid vacation. Oh well, it is what it is and I do my best to teach the kids that do want to still learn (if I have any knowledge to give them, that is). And it is all good experience for when I one day have a full-time teaching job of my own... when I will be able to establish relationships and mutual respect with my students and will be able to run the classroom the way I'd like to run it.

Now, when that time comes, what grade will I want to teach? I tell ya, middle school is pretty much a hormonal hell hole from hell, so I am not too sure I'd love to go there everyday. I mean, 8th grade, wow... what a bunch of assholes! I know, they're kids, they're just learning how to be human and how to tell an ass from a hole in the ground. But, sheesh, that is just a brutal age. I cut them as much slack as possible, I think, but dealing with them everyday may take more patience than I have to give. 6th grade is marginally better... they are still somewhat deferential to teachers and will still watch a Disney movie silently and with genuine uncynical enjoyment. The sweetness some of them still possess surprised and touched my cold, black, stone of a cynical adult heart. This was even more true of the elementary schoolers... there are plenty of little fat bastards (fat or not, it's an attitude I'm talking about) and shitheads-in-training at that age, too, but they mostly all still want to learn, at the very least.

Anyway, it has been quite the experience. The days seem to go by quickly and a lot of the students do like me, I think, when they bother to think of me at all. At that age, they haven't had too many male teachers, let alone semi-young, semi-hipster male teachers... so at least I got some kind of uniqueness going for me. In my mind I look like Ryan Gosling, except handsomer. But I think the kids see me more like Mr. Kot-tair... can't say I blame them. And I do dig the mustache, although I already have glasses, and two iconic facial accessories is one too many. I did use my awesome cool guy hat from San Francisco in the classroom, though! We pulled names to see who got to read aloud. The kids were much less impressed with the hat than I was. Damn kids and their cellular phones. It's a different generation... Up their noses with rubber hoses! 

Sub Life is filmed before a live studio audience.

In Progress

Welcome to the first post written for the newly designed blog. Blogspot made some shiny new templates available and I couldn't resist the chance to tinker. It is still in progress. 
In progress. I like that. A blog in progress, a life in progress... where am I today? Am I moving forward? Backward? Sideways? Whichever way I'm moving, am I enjoying the movement? Yes to all those questions at once, I think. I think I am moving in every direction at once. Not that there's anything wrong with that.


I was listening to a podcast the other day and heard a quote I quite liked. So happens it is from a rabbi, but that is besides the point. So happens the podcast was WTF with Marc Maron, a really good stand up comedy themed interview show I have really been enjoying lately. Listen to it for free here! But that is besides the point. The quote, and the point, is this:
If I am not for myself, who will be for me? If I am not for others, what am I? And if not now, when?

Rabbi Hillel

How's that for inspiration to get off my lazy ass? So I have.. sorta. I have now begun the teacher certification program at Palm Beach State College. I passed the certification test for teaching 6-12th grade English. These classes will hopefully prepare me for actually being in a classroom. Then I'll need to get an actual job, etc, etc... For now, I go to class. A college man once again. I have books and homework and a student ID card and everything. It's a little weird. Not sure if it will be easier or harder than the first time around.

Anyway, now for the Woody Allen portion of this post: Jesse recently sent this picture to me and I love it. I wanted to post it just because I think it is so cool. Gambling and being a retro cool nebbish never go out of style. Right??


Finally, here is a pretty picture of the sunrise in Boynton Beach. Recently I had to work overnights, from 12:30am-6:00am. While generally unpleasant, it did give me a reason to be up early enough to see the sunrise on the beach, something I am pretty sure I had never bothered to do in all my years in Florida. It was worth doing... once. I need sleep. But, hey, there it is, proof. The sun does also rise!

What's a Hypoluxo?

After three months away from blogging, I return to it 3,271 miles away from where I wrote last. Foxy the car and I once again drove across this great land of ours, and now I find myself in a cold, dark room in hot, sunny South Florida. No, I have not bottomed out and landed inevitably, irrevocably, in prison.. I am just at work. Although, some might say working at a TV station is akin to prison! Not me, though, I would never say that.

At any rate, a lot has happened to get me to this point, obviously, but it is too much to explain in depth. So, as Inigo Montoya would say to the Dread Pirate Roberts, let me sum up: Boy quits his job in the big city; packs all he owns in a tiny (but lovable) car; strikes out for points west, zig-zagging his way across the country until he reaches the dock of the bay; doesn't have much of a plan and even less money, but has the absolute time of his life for six months while sleeping on his friends' couch (see: all the previous blog entries); all the times in between those times of his life, he tries in vain to find a job before his resources run out and he's forced to move on; in the nick of time, he finds a job (!); promptly quits it after two days (??); packs his car again the next day and leaves, leaving his heart behind; sees some sights along the way back east (was a huckleberry in Tombstone, AZ; will never forget The Alamo; embraced his inner fried-okra-eating country boy in Alabama); arrives in South Florida where at last Foxy can be relieved of her burden, but where the boy still doesn't have much of a plan.

Part 2: The Barefoot Mailman Strikes Back. So, now, here I am in Hypoluxo, FL, the unlikely name given to the "Home of the Barefoot Mailman", which was, apparently, like the Florida version of the Pony-Express. Learn something new everyday. Anyway, I have a part-time job at the local PBS station, am staying with my parents, and am not entirely sure what will happen next. For the time being, I am very grateful to have a place to land and some money coming in. I have also taken the certification test to become an english teacher. I am awaiting results. Teaching has been in the back of my mind as a career option for a long time, so maybe now I will give it a try. Although, I must say, it is very weird to imagine myself as that guy. You know, that guy up there teaching stuff... in my mind I think I still identify closer with the kid sitting at his desk in the back of the room. But I do like teaching, as a fulfilling concept of a career. I just don't know, yet... I could just run away again and solve all my problems by moving to a new city! That works every time, right?

Part 2, the prequel: What about this job in San Francisco I say I quit after two days? The fuck was that about? Well, I'll tell ya.. I guess I just don't have the manual labor gene. And it wasn't even like real manual labor! For two days I was a baker at a branch of a large bakery chain in the city. You know how I love to bake and eat all manner of baked goods... well, turns out I did not love taking them out of the freezer and putting them into the oven for nine hours straight. I also did not love having to yell out "Hot snickerdoodles!" or some other such nonsense, when a batch of cookies came out of the oven. I did not like this most of all, actually. Maybe if I could have quietly gone about my business, pretending in my mind that I was somewhere else, I could have lasted a while longer. But, as it was, I just couldn't abide. So, I turned in my apron and, having not many other options (out of money; emotionally in need of a place to unpack, literally and metaphorically), I decided I would have to call off the great SF experiment and head on back to Florida. Worse things have happened, but it is a shame; I love SF and loved being there to share it with Danie and Jesse. Maybe I will make it back there some day, hopefully with a little money and a job in hand.

Meanwhile, as my friend Justin said, my life for the last year has been kind of how you might imagine Kris Kristoferson's life... without the talent or the booze or the groupies, of course. As I drove through Texas (for what seemed like weeks), Justin told me that all my stories lately have begun with "I was in a diner last night in San Antonio"... or a motel in Benson, AZ; or Mobile; or a casino in Wheeling, WV; or Kansas City; or Devil's Lake, ND; etc... I have been on the road! Living the life! From dusty backwaters to big cities and miles and miles of road in between. It has been a once in a lifetime experience I will never forget and I was so happy to have been able to share it with most of the people who actually read this thing. I would have loved to stay in SF a while longer, yes, but still and all I wouldn't trade any of my experiences and I am very happy I made the choices I made and did the things I did and saw the things I saw and lived the life I've lead. More details about some of the places I went on my way back east will appear on the blog soon.

And now I'm in my parents' home... foxy is unpacked.. it was and continues to be a good adventure. South Florida is really very nice, despite the jokes you may have heard or will hear (from me, probably) in the future. Also, not to contradict the title of this blog, but I realize now I need even less than what can actually fit in my Hyundai Accent. After not seeing most of my stuff for over 6 months, I had either forgotten about it or wondered why I once thought I needed it in the first place. It's all just stuff! Next time I will pack even lighter. Did you hear that? Next time....

Del Boca Vista

One day not too long ago I was wasting time, looking at stuff on the internet. In that way it was a day not unlike today and many, many others... until I stumbled onto Virgin America's flight reservation page. My first thought was, "This was not the kind of 'virgin' I had in mind! Stupid interweb!" But seriously, folks, virgin is a funny name for an airline... Anyway, once there, I found that I could fly from San Francisco (SFO) to Ft. Lauderdale (FLL) for $212 total, tax included! This was an offer I could not refuse, so I called up the parents and the trip was set. Del Boca Vista, here I come!

Admittedly, the price was the hook, but there were other legitimate "reasons" to go to Florida in Mid-January, as well. In fact, they were three-fold: My grandparents' 63rd anniversary (Jesus!), my grandfather's 88th birthday (Christ!), and my desire to see my parent's (Awww... there they are on the beach in Delray). So, off I flew on the red eye to South Florida. Virgin America planes are pretty nice - they have a TV in each seat and all - but.. any meager snack would cost you at least three bucks and heaven forbid you'd like a blanket and a pillow on a RED EYE.. that "nap pack" will cost you $12! Flying sucks! But, alas, I didn't have time to drive to Florida so this had to do. Whatever.

I arrived to FLL safe, sound, and tired, but happy to see my mom and dad and happy to be whisked off to breakfast at their favorite local deli. We all ate well and then it was clearly nap time. I slept for a good 5 or 6 hours and when I woke up the first thing we had to do was take a hack saw to the legs of a table in order to make it 3 inches shorter and better for my mom (who is shor.. uh, petite) to sit at. My dad had been dying to saw and/or burn something with me since he found out I was coming.. we are dudes, this is what we do. Check him out in his Devil's Lake, ND souvenir t-shirt, hack-sawing to town!

When we weren't sawing stuff, we watched lots of Pawn Stars on TV, made rye bread, went to the gazebo on the water behind their community, and saw Avatar again... this time in full-on Imax 3-D, baby! Blew my parents' minds. Mom and I also went to the mall and it struck me that I wasn't sure if the mall or it's clientele were more dead. You see, the economy sucks and people in Florida are old. Funny!

After a few days we drove to Tampa, where the rest of the family lives. Along the way is 'Alligator Alley', a stretch of I-75 that goes east-west through the Everglades. My mom said she saw actual alligators beside the road.. Florida is kind of a strange place. My visit was a surprise to everyone in Tampa.. My aunt Arlie says she suspected I was coming, but I think we still got her pretty good. In Tampa I saw all my family, took some walks, had some dinners, and chomped on some see-gars with my Grandpa. He worked at Cuesta-Rey cigars for over 30 years and still smokes and/or chews on two cigars a day.. and he's 88, so something must be working. We also had a poker night.. and, you know, I am always up for a poker game! Below is the story of that night in pictures.. notice the high roller buy-in.

After I lost my shirt (about 75 cents) in poker it was time to drive back to South Florida. We all went to the beach one more time and then it was time to go before I knew it. I hadn't even gotten the chance to wreck a Cadillac or get the condo board to impeach my dad. Oh well, next time I'll bring a Wizard organizer and an astronaut pen and we'll stay on schedule. These are all Seinfeld references, in case you're lost. They make me laugh.

After saying goodbye to my parents I waited in the airport for boarding time.. and waited.. and waited.. and waited some more. My flight was delayed three hours due to inclement weather in SFO. So, to kill time, I had some sliders and a beer at the in-terminal Chili's. While I ate, a lady approached my table looking a little bewildered. She asked, "Is that a burger? 'Cause I don't want chili... They serve things besides chili?" I assured her it was indeed a burger and, yes, they actually serve lots of things besides chili - in fact, I don't know if they serve chili at all. She then asked how the burger tasted, "Is it as good as McDonald's?" she asked. "Even better," I said, actually lying twice in the space of two words. Oh Florida, I'll miss thee and thy wacky peoples.

I did bring back a taste of Florida to San Francisco, though.. A bag of fresh key limes. I was determined to make Danie and Jesse a key lime pie.. to the right is the result of my effort. Look at me, breaking out the pastry bag and the garnish.. fancy! It tasted as good as it looked (if I do say so myself) and it reminded me of home. Florida will always be in my genes.

National Lampoon's Vacation

Last week I met my parents in Florida for a family vacation. We flew into Orlando, drove to Daytona, then to Melbourne, then to West Palm Beach, then back to Orlando. My dad is not Chevy Chase and we did not go to Walley World (because that doesn't really exist... disappointing isn't it?), but we did have a pretty good time.

First, we spent a week one night in Daytona... at least that's how it felt. It looks nice in the picture, but who knew it was so rundown and rednecky? I guess the fact that their two biggest attractions are Nascar Week and Bike Week should have tipped us off. But still, it is DAYTONA BEACH... sounds like something to see, doesn't it? It isn't.

So, we moved on the next morning, driving south along the east coast through Melbourne and eventually settling in West Palm Beach. West Palm was way nicer than Daytona, of course... and it felt like everyone from Jersey came with me. Lots of old tri-staters down there. We also learned that the higher the shrubs in front of a house, the more expensive that house is. There were a lot of high shrubs.

After soaking in South Florida for three nights, we headed back to Orlando for the last two nights of our trip. No Walley World, but we did go to Epcot, our old favorite, and I did, sorta, kinda... run over my mother's foot with the car. You see, I thought she was in the car. I was wrong. I assure you this was not intentional.. and not too funny at the time. But she's OK, bruised but not broken, and it's funny now. She was up and walking around Epcot again that afternoon.And that about does it for Kodish Florida Family Vacation '08. Maybe there will be a sequel soon.