Teachable Moments

Hear Come Ol' Flat Top

2006-11-15T15:11:00.000-08:00

Hi folks,

A lot of you know that I've been going through some career changes of late, and this ordeal has been the inspiration behind my latest book. I've added, for your enjoyment, the pitch for a possible book cover that my publisher recently put together. That's me on my first day of work. Somewhat tentative....perhaps a little embarrassed that they spelled my name wrong on the orange apron. Anyway, I've moved on now after a brief stay in retail.

Well, it's almost Christmas. My wife and I have already been shopping for the advent chocolate calendar that best suits us. I'm also putting together a set list for an upcoming Christmas service. So here's today's poll question of the day:

What are the top three Christmas carols of all time?

I like to keep my ear to the ground when it comes to Christmas songs, but let's not have any of this fluffy stuff. No "Up on the House Top" by the Jackson 5, for example. I look forward to hearing from you.

Hi, it's halloween.

2006-10-31T20:57:00.000-08:00

Ok people. Now, you know I love pet peaves, and we all know pet peaves are a great tool that really resonates deeply within the human soul. As I describe these things that you always noticed but never really verbalized, I know you're just thinking, 'I totally know what he means'.

Well, as I've mentioned before, the worst has gotta be when people come up to a stop sign after you were already there, and they think they should go first, just because they're going straight through and you're turning left. Well that just never seems to go away, does it? Here're a few others, though.

1. People who say the word "human" or "huge" without saying the 'h', so it sounds like 'uman' and 'uge'. That's simply repulsive.

2. Since it's Halloween and all, we should also talk about that assortment of mini choco-bars that Hershey's puts out. "Dear Mrs. Eleanor Hershey: HELLO!! We're all fed up with the 8-2-1-1 ratio of your Oh Henry, Peanut Glosette, Raisin Glosette, Reese Peanut Butter Cup (respectively) mixture. Oh Hungry? ...Oh no!" And isn't that line-up just the worst nightmare for a kid with peanut allergies. Now what do those peanut-allergic kids do on Halloween eve, anyway? "Trick or treat"? I don't think so...more like "trick or leftover beef stroganoff, cause I can't eat treats". Well, I guess they could just ask for some good ol' "Halloween Apples", as the age-old song suggests.

Well, two is all I got for tonight. Time for bed.

check out my new post

2006-10-15T15:45:00.000-07:00

Feeling the desire to add a new post, I asked my wife for ideas. She suggested I write about "potato wars". A lot of people don't realize it, but there was a Potato War in Poland.

So how about those Eskimos, eh? A few people are upset about this, but I just say "go Oilers go!" If you want to know more about the Oilers, you should utilize the link below. My new blog has a lot of useful links to great blogs and websites. You've got pretty much everything you need here.

A lot of people think the Oilers are going to finish twelfth in the Western conference. Well, my man Ryan Smyth has about 5 reasons in the last 2 games why the Oilers are gonna finish better than that.

You know, I like sports, but sometimes I think it's pretty silly how we have these sports talk shows and and call-in shows and sports sections in newspapers. Don't ya think? ...I guess it's some kind of injustice if some Tom-Fool-in-a-suit, or what have you, wants to say "Oilers are bad"? I don't care too much for this tom foolery myself. Don't you have something better to do, sports pundits?

The best is when some guy, before the season even starts, calls in and says "I'm an Oilers fan, but I don't think the Oilers are going to make the playoffs this year". (I'm talking about the guys who call in now.) First of all, we know he's saying it just to get Bryan Hall all riled up (spelling?). Secondly, his name is always "Buddy" or "Chief" or something. Thirdly, what's the point of speculating about something like that. What's his criteria for making such a prediction, and what motivates his skepticism? He's always got some obscure theory about how the Oilers are going to lose because the stick boy is Hugh Campbell's son or something. "It's an intersport conflict, he'll say."

Don't even get me started. What's with sports, eh?

2006-10-07T19:07:00.000-07:00

Hiya folks,

Well, I hope you enjoy the improvements to the old blog. Incidentally, while I was touching up my profile a bit, I happened to notice that I'm the only person in the world who named Danny Orlis among the favourite books. Bernard Palmer, you have fallen a long way since the days when people awaited your next book with greater anticipation than your brother's next big golf victory. Personally, I'm wondering if Kent Gilbert is still 'defiant'... but hey, I've been wondering that since I first read that book in 1993 -- 40 years after it was written. Roxie dies, in case any of you were left hanging. Linda Penner is still headstrong. You know, you might think you're hard-done-by, but how old were you the first time you rode in a car?? Danny was fourteen years old.

Forgive me, you say, but that is enough about Dan Orlis. I realize that most of you feel a little out of the loop when I talk about Danny Orlis, which is a deep shame. All I can say is, Mr. Palmer, you make goooood books.

I'd love to hear your fond memories of reading Orlis books. Fat chance, I guess. Oh well.

Enjoy

2006-10-07T09:20:00.000-07:00

Well, I think it's time to announce that I am no longer a Padawan Blogger. I hope you all enjoy the new "Talk with the Hawk" experience. The other pic is a tribute to Jacob, the man that made this all possible.

test

2006-10-06T21:03:00.000-07:00

another test:

Sorry guys. Doing some blog renos and I had to take off the collages - they were screwing up my profile.

By the by, I still don't know how to add that list of links to other blogs. Anyone wanna fill me in?

butterfly kisses at night

2006-10-06T12:31:00.000-07:00

This is a test. Looks like I passed.

At Issue

2006-09-14T12:39:00.000-07:00

As many of you know, I'm now a stay-at-home Dad. My wife and I don't have any kids yet, but I meet all the other criteria. Here's my itinerary for today.

7:45 -get up (two hours after my wife)
8:00 -eat Honeycombs (watch news)
8:30 -fix headlight on '89 Mazda (takes longer than you might think)
10:00 -paint casing around various windows and doors in my house
12:00 -eat lunch (watch news)
1:00 -make cookies while watching "Wind at my Back"
1:36 -post on blog while watching "Wind at my Back"
2:00 -go to Kar Basher to look for a new sun visor for Mazda
3:00 -think about all the stores and companies that spell 'C' words with 'K's

I'm chugging through the day right on schedule right now. I often think about getting a job, especially on rainy days such as today. But it's clear to me that I have no time for a job. Besides, Rachel has a promising future in store for her at the Petro-Canada lubes warehouse.

I'm not cut out for the workforce anyway, and my domestic skills would be going to waste. Wives can make cookies, granted. But a house-husband can make cookies and change headlights on older cars with the old-style headlights.

Well, I guess I'll leave my post at that, and brace myself for the backlash of women who insist that they've changed headlights before. Let me know if you have, girls.

Let's make that the question of the day, actually: are guys better at making cookies than girls are at working on cars? Also, I'd love to hear of any experiences of people changing headlights on 1989 Mazda 626s...

Tall in the Saddle

2006-08-28T21:07:00.000-07:00

I'm a man who likes to break records. First there was the fabled "23-comment" post, then the 4 1/2 months of silence. Well, guess what, the Hawk is back on the hunt. My next goal is to make the post with the most 'n's in it.

Nearly nine nuns nibbled a nice nib at noon.

Well, that should do it for that record. Look out Mark Tewksberry*, there's a new hawk in town.

Now I know I haven't blogged for a while, so maybe it's time to generate some dialogue: what do you think is the most impressive world record?? For me, it would have to be that young man who ate a shrub and several small airplanes.

-This was Tomahawk

*Mark Tewksberry holds the record for the most gold medals by a swimmer named Mark at the Olympics that I know of not counting Mark Spitz. For those of you who don't know him, let's just say he's the Karen Lee Gartner of swimming.

Five reasons why The Hawk needs a "Blog Yoda"

2006-04-07T10:00:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about the most important things in life. Clearly this is blogs. A lot of you probably think: "tomahawk? he don't care about blogs," but this is wrong. Here are a few reasons why you probably think this:

1) I've never posted a photograph or any sort of graphic on my blog
2) I've never changed my template or any of the features on my blog
3) I've never added a link to a cool website or to someone else's blog, and I've rarely referred to anyone else's blog on one of my posts
4) I rarely visit other blogs
5) I don't even have a list of links to friend's blogs on my blog

Well, first of all, number 4 has a lot to do with number 5... I guess the other reasons are pretty legit...

The Hawk needs a blog master to teach him the way of the blog

So have you guys ever heard of "the srool"? It's the sore-throat-drool (I was going to make that into an acronym, but I changed by mind). I had it this morning. It's when you wake up in the morning after having developed a sore throat over night. Your mouth, being in pain, decides not to swallow and instead leeches out all the saliva into a large puddle on your pillow. Then you wake up in the morning to the sound of water splashing...it's the morning dew dripping into your drool-pool.

Cheers

April Fools...or the Ides of March?

2006-03-31T10:10:00.000-08:00

Sorry I haven't posted lately, but the weather just been too beautiful for me to come inside and work on a computer. And since the Hawk is the patron bird of spring, I've had a lot of added responsibilities obviously.

It's been quite a winter, now, hasn't it? There have been three distinct phases. Phase 1 I call GCC (global climate change) phase (Nov - mid-Feb). Then there was CRAP (Cold, slippeRy, Awkward, and Precipitationy) Phase, running from about Feb 20 - Mar 20. Who liked that phase? Not me. Then there was phase 3, the "Plus 6 phase". Now it is always plus 6, and the trend is expected to continue.

Well, enough about "the weather". How about those Oilers?

Since it is March 31, and many of you will be reading this tomorrow, I think an April Fools' gag is in order:

This morning when I was making my lunch, I lost all four of my limbs.

Forgive me for this violent comment. Maybe I should think of something a little more uplifting...

This morning, when I was making my lunch, I found 40 dollars.

(...of course, the real gag is that I didn't make my lunch this morning...)

April FOOLS!!!

Ouch!

2006-03-16T10:21:00.000-08:00

I’ve been injured a lot lately, and it hasn’t been in cool ways, either. Recently I was playing soccer and, frustrated with myself for failing to score a goal, I bashed my hand against the hard plastic wall. I think I ruptured my Achilles’ Wrist. Anyway, it wouldn’t have been as maddening if I wasn’t about to complete my third hat trick of the night.

Then today, as I was leaving class I heard this girl talking to her friends say, “I’m like soooo optimistic about this paper I just handed in.” I just thought it was a funny thing to say, and when I was laughing to myself, I accidentally didn’t open the door enough and bashed my arm.

Well, you’re probably all saying to yourselves, “if ‘The Hawk’ is really a hawk, why is he always talking about fingees and armsies?”...what about his wings? Well, that’s easy: I’m not a hawk.

Just kidding.

Now, please excuse me. This is the part where I comment on my own blog to make me feel good about myself for getting so many comments:

Samuel

2006-03-13T20:58:00.000-08:00

So does anyone know what happened to "The Town Hall"? For a time, that was the blog that sort of held everything together. Daytona and myself would convene to hash out some of the more pressing issues, and it was a forum for public discourse, and there's something to be said for that... that it's great. If it wasn't for public discourse, we might not have microwaves. If Samuel Microwave hadn't had the opportunity to run his little idea by a few people, he never would have got the patent, never would have signed the deal with the local factory, never would have got the encouragement to carry on with his dreams. We'd be eating frozen pizza pops. Of course, we also probably could've avoided Chernoble. Oh well.

For Ruedigger

2006-03-03T08:30:00.000-08:00

I’ve discovered the most annoying thing in the world: the shuttle-bus driver.

First of all, let me say that it’s great to be back! I’ve spent some time surveying the further reaches of the forest and thus I’ve been offline of late. I did get a chance to see that pretty otter from Jill’s blog in my travels though.

Anyway, as you guys know my wings aren’t registered in the city so I have to take the bus to school. One problem…the shuttle bus. Guess how many people we had on it the other day. Yes, 27 people. (It’s about the size of a Dodge Caravan) Thank you, Maynard, for being so kind and waiting for the late stragglers so that everyone gets a ride from the overflow parking area to the bus depot. Let me assure you that all of us who were at the shuttle on time really just love it when you pack on like 15 more people, so that I’m being constantly bashed into the air conditioner in the back corner of the bus and being hit repeatedly in the torso by two different backpacks, and making us all late.

Well, I lost track of how that sentence began so I couldn’t really finish it. Anyway, I hate to complain, but ‘hey SCT, c’mon now’.

At this time I’d like to dedicate the rest of my blog entry to Professor Schmidt:

What I love about the old testamentalist, is that the Deuteronomisticistical Historicity Work has undergone so many redactionarialistic layeringisms. Most of the translationalists agree that it is a literariliyous masterpiecefulness. Thank you.

I love Olympics!

2006-02-17T09:20:00.000-08:00

Hiya folks,

How about Canadian athletes, eh? Not a bad day yesterday. I’ve noticed a few trends about Canadian Olympic performances, though. Our people that our supposed to do good often seem to let us down. I’m thinking not only about Jeremy Wotherspoon, but Perdita Felicien, Silkan Lauman (spelling?), Mark Boswell, and the list goes on. The ones that are successful seem to be surrounded by scandal (Ross and Ben, for ex ample). On the other hand, most of are finest moments seem to have been the result of other peoples’ mistakes or abuses of drugs. What about Becky Scott (won gold because of a drug scandal), or those speed skaters from the other day who might get bumped up one place because of a “raised skate”. Then there’s those bronze medals that we keep getting because the better people do worse than we expect (women’s skeleton, men’s figure skating, women’s boarder-cross). And of course, we have all-out flukes – Simon Whitfield, Karen Lee-Gartner, and my personal favourite, Mark Tewksberry.

I have a theory about the disappointments I named first. It’s probably the result of too much pressure. You see, for Americans, they know that there are so many top athletes expected to win that they don’t have excessive pressure on them to perform. But for a Canadian expected to win gold, they know that they will be one of only 3-4 gold medals, and that the identity of a small Northern country like ours depends on prowess in winter sports, and thus the pressure overtakes them. As a result, we depend on the Mark Tewksberry’s to “bring home the gold,” after which they immediately retire and become CBC commentators, (rather than embarrassing themselves by continuing on with their sport.)

I don’t want to paint a poor picture of Canadian sport, though. We’ve had our fine moments, especially in sprint. After all, everyone remembers those two famous exhibition sprints: one between Donovan and Michael Johnson (who faked an injury), and one between Ben Johnson and a horse. That was Ok. I guess we got the silver in that one.

Fishin the the Dark

2006-02-10T10:15:00.000-08:00

Well, as sure as I dedicate a post to my man Wayne, he takes up organized crime. Thanks, but no thanks, Great One. Well, the warning signs were there. I had to think he must have been blowing all his cash when I saw him washing his clothes at the Laundromat. The old classic scenario of selling your washing machine to feed the habit.

I have to admit, I took it pretty hard when I heard about this gambling thing. I thought more of Janet, anyway. Drell agreed. In fact, after hearing about this scandal, I think Drell and Janet G. are officially through. Dawson has been rather indifferent about the whole thing...

Drell and I were actually out fishin the other day - sorry - fishing the other day. You might be thinking "Fishing in February? Forgive me, Tomahawk, but that is simply too much." Well, you might think that, but what about this grass fire we had South of Calgary a couple days ago? Besides, two words: "ice fishing".

Speaking of current events, what's with the Olympics. If they're gonna have the Olympics in a Sub-tropical climate, they might as well have them in Sherwood Park so we can at least watch events at a reasonable time of day. Why wouldn't they? What? Are there a lot of people living in the Eastern hemisphere who prefer it this way??? Somehow I doubt it. Why would somebody want to live in the Eastern hemisphere?

Oh well.

-This was Tomahawk

Wayne

2006-01-26T13:08:00.000-08:00

Today is the birthday of the great Wayne Gretzky. In his honour, I thought I’d take some time today to tell you all about my favourite animal, the musk ox. Sure, we all have a sort of idealistic, pastoral idea in our heads about this mysterious mammal.

The idea, or the “fact” of the musk ox is an institution in its own right. Let me paint for you an image - my conception - of the musk ox, with the hopes that you’ll come to a greater sense of appreciation for that noble arctic beast.

We say that no man is an island, but a musk ox is an island. It strikes its pose on a distant bluff, somehow set apart from all of nature beneath it, something wholly its own. The ice and snow cling to its comforting locks as the wind gnaws at anything life-bearing. And as it casts its omniscient gaze in your direction, you might wet your pants a little, but you can’t move. This beast is just so big, so brown, so wise, you just can’t bear to look at it, but neither can you look away.

The musk ox is, I suppose, a creature lost in time and space. No one even knows if the musk ox really exists. We have mythological accounts like Theseus’ slaying of a musk ox, and most of us know the Patron Saint of Wales to be a musk ox, but there hasn’t been a sighting of one in nearly four centuries (musk oxen, apparently, began their migration North soon after the Peace of Westphalia and the emergence of the modern nation-state). Musk oxen have even been mistaken for the large buffalo-like animals husbanded by the Sand People on Star Wars Episodes I and IV. Needless to say, there are a lot of misconceptions about musk oxen, but little sincere appreciation for our majestic, longhaired friend

As for me, besides meeting Wayne Gretzky himself, the person I’d most like to meet is probably the musk ox. Let me know what you think….

This was the Hawk

The Wheels on the bus...

2006-01-19T08:05:00.000-08:00

Hey y’all,

I’m on the bus right now. I know you’re all thinking, “does the Hawk live in Philadelphia?” “He must if he has wireless internet on the bus.” Three words: copy and paste. In other words, as you read this, in fact I wrote it hours ago, even weeks ago, and just decided to post it now. Besides, even if I had posted an entry immediately after I wrote it, you might not read it for weeks, months, fortnights. Anyway, I don’t want to date myself or my post by making any remarks about what’s going on in the world today, but did anyone else see “Family Ties” last night?

Anyway, Philadelphia doesn’t have wireless internet, silly fool. Philadelphia was an ancient Greek city in Asia Minor, long since buried beneath the sands of time, and large sandstorms.

So where did I leave off…. Yes, I was on the bus this morning, and I see this sign at the bus depot that says “buses only”, but the way the sign is situated, it really looks like the sign is saying “buses only” are allowed in the nearby McDonalds parking lot. Then I had this funny idea about school buses going through the drive-thru for breakfast with a bus-load of elementary school kids (hey, maybe instead of “bus-load,” I should have said “butt-load”…). But the kids, even though you think they’d be driven loco with McMuffin cravings, are sitting calmly waiting for their turn to order. Most of them just order Cheerios, which is a little silly, but, of well. You might be laughing to yourself now, but let me tell you, there was a time when Cheerios were sold everywhere.

Probably the best idea I had, though, was that on the last day of school, or maybe on Valentines or Ground Hog Day, the bus driver, perhaps named Pete or Sylvia, would order a giant, bus-sized Big Mac for all the children to enjoy. What an interesting thought.

Well, I’ll leave you with that.

Tomahawk

What Up?

2006-01-11T19:57:00.000-08:00

Hello everyone, my name is The Hawk. You might remember me from May 13, 2005. After my posting a comment recently on Jill’s blog, I’m well aware that there have been rumblings of my return to blogworld. And after the barrage of comments on my last post, (with seven piling up over the course of the past six months or so), the fan pressure could no longer be resisted. Drell and I have been frantically putting together my new nest as the winter season fastly approaches, so I’ve been quite busy lately. Of course, weather patterns at higher elevations are quite different, so up here at the nest it's more like Australia.

Anyway, enough about me. It’s been exciting to see some new interest in my untended blog as of late. Ranger Gord, from the Red Green Show, seems to have dropped by for a visit or two. Let me say, sir, that I am truly honoured. Well, ranger, you must have seen some terrible wild beasts in your career. Nested in a scraggly dead willow on the sunny side of Mount Vesuvius, one can bet that I’ve seen my fare share of cougars and ibexes myself. Of course, for me it's easy: I just swoop up in the air and say “so long, sucker!” Its not so easy, I’m afraid, for a park ranger. I fear that our friend is not so fortunate as we winged-folk, and having not heard from him in a few days, I can’t help but fear the worst.

Of course, we all know that the most fearsome beast is neither a cougar nor an ibex, but a shark riding on an elephant, just trampling and eating everything they see.

The noblest beast in the animal kingdom, though, would have to be the musk ox, but I’ll save that topic for another post.

This has been the Hawk.

Flight of the Hawk

2005-05-13T10:07:00.000-07:00

Yes, it is I. The Hawk has arisen from his deep winter slumber. Hark, a figure appears in the cave's opening, that noble defender of wisdom and night-hunting. And as his gentle wings begin their flight, the creatures of the forest gaze upward in wonder at his majesty, his might. This is beautiful.

Well, I think a month and a half absent from blogland merits at least such an introduction. I've probably raised a few controversies already, as I always do. First, you're probably saying to yourself, 'do hawks really hibernate?' Second, you're probably saying to yourself: 'well, I wasn't sure about hibernation, and the whole "bear thing" does throw a wrench into it, but I'm sure hawks don't live in caves. For those of you who don't know about the 'bear thing,' I'm talking about the miscinception that bears hibernate. Once I found out that indeed bears - the very apex of the hibernating world - in fact do not hibernate, I started to doubt all my preconceptions about which animals do and do not hibernate.

Nevetheless, I think you're most likely correct that hakws do not hibernate, but this Hawk, for one, has certainly been a cave these last weeks - that Socratic cave of ignorance, of false understanding, of spring clean-ups. When you're on a clean-up crew, you know no reality but work, eat, and sleep (all nouns). All else is merely shadows on a wall. The puppeteer behind the fire tries his darndest to convey to you the world as it is but you see but a dim reflection of the life you once knew. So, in the sense, the Hawk has been in a cave.

And it didn't help that my computer broke. It actually broke a long time ago but I posted Blog entries at school, which I no longer go to.....

Anyway, Drell, Dawson, and I are glad to be back online, if only for a moment. I'm at the library, you see, and I don't often frequent this place, so this entry might just be a one-hit-wonder.

Well, you all must have heard that my young pupil Tona is ready to leave the nest and try catching his own food, so to speak. It has been my honour to guide and nurture him in his pursuit of wisdom these 20-odd years but that era has ended. By the way, does anyone know what Mr. Splendour meant by 'baliffs'? I think he must have been talking about 'bay leaves'. They're poisonous.

Man, speaking of Daytona and his blog, that list of fifty certainly earned him some comments, did it not? And isn't that what we're all after here in blog land. Well, I'm 'doing lunch' in a few minutes so I don't have time for 50, but here goes 20.

1. I am not actually a Hawk, but a human boy.
2. I've never had a headache
3. I have no cavities or fillings
4. I've taken a pain killer only once
5. I've never flown anywhere in an airplane
6. I've never dyed my hair
7. Wait a minute, this is starting to look like a certain 'wedding shower game'... not that I would know.
8. I've never been to a wedding shower.
9. My beak is yellow.... Oh wait, I already gave away my secret.
10. My room is always very clean - people tell me I'm not the type that would have a clean room.
11. In elementary school, I used to get kicked out of class for talking - people tell me that I'm not the tpye that would have got kicked out of class
12. My girlfirend is 5'7" and 1/2 - people tell her that she's not the type of girl that they would expect to be such an amazon.
13. Today is Friday's the 13th
14. My Mom won't tell me my IQ - isn't that annoying.
15. I once won an essay contest, but I never won anything in track and field.
16. Sometimes I wish I was better at sports instead of essays.
17. I don't think I'm as smart as people think I am.
18. I am dogmatic.
19. I've never seen Forrest Gump
20. I've never seen J.F.K.
21. I've never seen J.F.K. (the airport)
22. Oh, this is turning back into that pesky shower game
23. I never watch TV... I think its stupid.
24. I think there should be a salary cap on all pro sports of $75 000.
25. I think people might spend their money better if sports teams didn't exist.
26. I'm a hypocrite and I know it. I have firm judgments about everybody else, but forget to apply them to myslef.
27. I love sports.
28. I have a girlfriend. If she was a president, she''d be 'Babe'raham Lincoln.
29. I've never met Abraham Licnoln.... maybe someday.
30. This list is longer than I initially intended for it to be.
31. We're going to miss you, Splendour.

Well, that list just kept going and going. All I can say is, if my Blog were a game of cribbage, I'd have two points right now. That last item was a little tribute to the departing Splendour, from myself and the boys. And now I must sign off on behalf of Drell and Dawson, and leave you with in apology: Sorry for any typos, I didn't have time to read over this.

Goodbye

2005-04-11T08:54:00.000-07:00

You know guys, I'm not perfect. This morning, I, the Hawk, let down a couple close friends of mine. They know who they are. We go down to the pumps a lot..... see who's tougher; but not today, today was a day for beauty sleep.

My most intimate fans have probably noticed that my blog entries tend to show up in the afternoon. Well, basically, its morning and I haven't seen anything cool or stupid to describe to you or mock (respectively), and I haven't even had any amusing thoughts like I usually do.

I'll tell you one thing though, our school paper sucks. That's what I did on the way in to school today, I read the complete issue. You might find that hard to believe, but its kind of like Dr. Suess. It might be like 40 pages long, but its a pretty easy read. Imagine a dumbed-down version of "Green eggs and ham," toss a few f-bombs into the mix, and you have our school paper.

I was actually talking to the university's president about how they pick the staff for the school paper. I used to think they just went to the faculty of business and took the 50 people with the lowest IQs to use as writers, but it turns out its actually worse. They get most of the writers from places like Ontario, the United States, and the North side, and they say, "well guys, go to it," and we have our school paper. I asked the school president if, for the next issue, we could have a photo of the whole paper staff on the front page with a caption reading, "we're the dumbest people you know," but he said "no."

This was Tomahawk

The Joy That is 'Teachable Moments'

2005-04-09T19:41:00.000-07:00

Do you suppose that someone suffering from a condition of giantism could be said to be a 'giantist'? If so, then I think I've discovered one of a very few words that rhyme with the word 'scientist.' Such a discovery might prove a real asset for my songwriting.

I'll tell you one thing though. If I were a giantist, I wouldn't be sitting in a school library at 7:30 on a Saturday night. If I were a giantist, I'd work for a swashbuckling pirate in the Carribean, punching out mutineering first mates and hauling those ever-so-heavy barrels of rum up from the lower deck of our noble Jolly-Roger-clad vessel. Because I'd be strong, and great, a god among men. Perhaps I'd make my money amidst gypsies and two-headed-bunnies-with-one-head in the American Midwest in a circus. Even better, I could go into show business....... after all, doesn't everyone want to see a seven-footer behind a set of drums? And let us not forget that sport of kings, America's past-time, the ageless, basketball.

You see, the possibilities are endless for a giant. As for me, I'm doomed to a life of relative medioctriy, at least, in that I've been shackled beneath the weight of this veritable ball and chain that is 'school.' Tonight, the jailor beckons me to the stocks that are Cameron Library, and I undergo the grim torture that is studying, nourished only by the bread and water that is Ho Ho's Chinese food. And like bread and water, it seems that no matter how much you ingest, you'll still feel hungry within about 25 minutes. Fie, Fie on it!

Actually, its not that bad, this is perhaps the first Saturday evening in my life devoted to school work, so I can't complain. Heck, you've gotta enjoy these times while you still have them. College days............ some day they'll have a sentimental aura about them. Oh..... I promised myself I wouldn't cry..... [choke, sob]........ party on!

This was Tomahawk

The Life of a Blogger

2005-03-31T15:11:00.000-08:00

Well, I’ll admit, my young Paduan learners, that I’ve been experiencing a bad case of writer’s block lately. Not only that, but I – like many of my fellow students – have been barraged by a score of year-end projects – essays, assignments, et cetera. So that is my excuse for not posting much lately. But hey, look at all the other Blogs – the fact is that nobody’s really Blogging lately. And quite frankly, I’d rather be doing something else myself……. like fishing.

Yes, its true. We bloggers, at least the true Bloggers, derive no pleasure from it; we plod on for you, the audience, and you alone. Whether you visit my Blog for the entertainment or the educational value, I’m sure if you knew me you’d agree that I could provide either much more effectively in person, but, alas, I don’t know all of you, do I? And how else am I to provide you with entertainment and educational tidbits but via this novel little medium?

Of course, I have no reason to believe that anybody else reads these things anyway, so perhaps I’m merely “thinking aloud,” talking to “dead air,” or “preaching to the converted,” if you will.

Now, don’t say it! No, don’t even entertain those thoughts! I know what you’re thinking: that is sounds like good ol’ Mr. Tomahawk is suffering from a case of the “Blogger Blues.” No, no, no. Worse, in fact….. I’m recovering from a recent case of mono. Self-diagnosed, of course. I had visited the family physician about my extreme tiredness, runny-nose, and generally apathetic approach to life, disinterest in school, et cetera, but he maintained that I was just “really bored.” That set me off real good and, lets just say, I showed that overpaid chap the meaning of stethoscope down your throat. It was just then that Dawson, who had been waiting patiently in the lobby, stepped in…….. lucky for Doc. I consider Dawson a good friend – we’ve had some special moments, but one look at those flared nostrils and I knew I had gone too far.

Anyway, yeah, mono….. self-diagnosed. So, admittedly, I haven’t been my usual Blogger self, but will you forgive me? Besides, this is my second post this week, how many times have YOU posted this week? Huh?

Well, now, I can’t sign off on such a hostile note……. I love you guys. Don’t ever change.

Tomahawk

Allergic To One's Own Cells?!? ....Never In My Life!

2005-03-23T14:33:00.000-08:00

Good day to you all. First I’d like to apologize on behalf of myself and several others of my fellow Bloggers for our recent deficiency in cranking out Blog entries. I, for one, had certainly hoped to be a bit more prolific in the past couple weeks but, what with the reemergence of the Bubonic Plague here and all….
Hey, have you guys ever noticed that you do little things in your everyday life to make you feel more powerful, to try to compensate for the utter lack of coolness in your own life? I’m not saying I lack self-esteem, but from time-to-time I wish I could just breathe on a lake and freeze, and then pick it up and drop it on a chemical fire to put it out. I mean, I might be great, but not that great…. so I do these little things to make me feel greater than I am.
Like opening doors, when I open those manual/automatic doors that are often on public buildings, I just reef on them to make myself feel really strong. Most people, of course, struggle with them since they’re so heavy. After watching some little old lady have a stroke from trying to open one, people see me “toss” it open and say to themselves, “there goes a strong young pup.” Although later on I’ll have to put my arm back into its socket. Or what about this: You men are all well-aware of the urinals in the men’s room that flush automatically once you step away from them. Well, I’ve taken to snapping each time I use one, so that it seems like I caused them to flush by some superhuman means, or perhaps through oneness with the “force.”
Another thing I’ve taken to doing is glaring at the students that are waiting outside when I come out of a classroom. Its as if I’m saying, “too bad you’re class is less important than mine since it happens later in the day,” or “looks like you’ve been waiting for me to come out of this class when I’m good and ready, and maybe if you’re lucky you can sit in the same chair that was so privileged to have been sat upon by me for the last fifty minutes.”
It’s kind of like when you’re stepping off an elevator and you pull the old “look both ways” maneuver. “Look to the left: everything’s cool, no one I know…. don’t worry folks, the Big Kahoona is here.” At least, that’s what I do when I step off an elevator. You’ve gotta step out, survey your surroundings, and then continue on your way. It’s just like when there’s a fire, that’s what they used to say: “step out, survey your surroundings, and then continue on your way.” This turned out to be rather ineffective, though, so, as you know, they replaced the old procedure with the more familiar “stop, drop, and roll.”
Today I was in the library and I overheard a really weird part of a conversation. I heard this girl say to this guy, “he’s allergic to himself, allergic to his own cells.” Isn’t that weird?

Digestive Cookies

2005-03-02T07:52:00.000-08:00

So what’s with the whole A-bomb thingy? In Japan, remember? So the Allies had just marched into Berlin in April, Italy was long gone, and the world turned its eyes on the empire of Japan, which was also on the verge of collapse. The Potsdam conference had already established that the Brits and Soviets would join the U.S. in fighting the Japanese three months after Germany fell, so they were due to join in by August 9, 1945. The Americans wanted unconditional surrender, so they were faced with the choice either to wage the planned “Operation Olympic” ground assault on Japan proper, or drop the two atomic bombs that had been secretly developed under a football field and the watchful eye of the president.

The choice to drop the bombs was the result of a weighing of casualties against casualties; the Americans basically decided that the lives of American soldiers that would have been lost in Operation Olympic would have to be spared at the expense of Japanese civilians.
(It was projected that Operation Olympic would cost about 147 000 American lives, but this was based on the very extreme case of Okinawa, which saw a very high casualty rate of 35%.)
The bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki instead, killed about 110 000 Japanese civilians instantly and injured another 100 000, not to mention those thousands who died later of radiation sickness. Nine million Japanese were left homeless in the wake of WWII, and 60 cities were reduced to rubble by Allied air assaults.

The Soviets had arrived to aid in an American ground assault the day after the first A-bomb was dropped, two days before the second bomb was dropped.

The Americans had succeeded. Japan had surrendered unconditionally, ceded all their colonial territory, assumed full responsibility for the damage inflicted on their own people, all this and no additional American casualties – (because Operation Olympic had been subverted).

These are the facts, and the interpretation of them is spelled out in elementary school text books: the Americans were justified and the Japanese were unfortunate. In my ‘Analysis of political thought’ class we’re talking about the philosophy of history and I’m starting to really come to grips with the fact that the victors truly write the history. My own knowledge of the strategies and politics of WWII tells me that the bombs were very unnecessary (feel free to challenge me on this, but do your homework first!). Interestingly, its almost impossible to emerge from this paradigmatic condition of historical hegemony and see the facts for what they are. Do you suppose that in 100 or 200 years from now, when Argentina is at the helm of the liberal democracies of the West because the U.S. has been flooded out by melting icecaps, that the dropping of the bombs on Japan will be seen as unethical, unnecessary, unfair, or at least cruel? Maybe not, but its interesting how any historical account will inevitably be tangled in a web of contextual bias such that it is really not valuable until all of the actors are long dead. I wonder if a history of the near past can ever be useful for the present. Its hard to learn from our mistakes when we don’t admit to having made them until 200 years later, isn’t it?

Woah! Where did that come from!?!? Well, Dawson and I have to jet it to the supermarket for some digestive cookies, so I’ll have to leave you with that. This is Tomahawk signing out from the nest.

To Maryland From Here? Fair.... as the Eagle Flies.

2005-02-22T15:19:00.000-08:00

It is indeed the birthday of George Washington today. A comment is most likely expected of me on this auspicious occasion, even more so in light of the fact that George's birthday is shared by my own dear friend, Jon FairEagle.

He's Scottish of course. . . . hence the capitalized letter mid-way through the surname.

Anyway.......... While George did go on to hold the most powerful job in the entire western world, (and one can only imagine how cataclysmic it would have been if he'd been impeached), he is probably most noted for having chopped down his father's prize cherry tree. I'm not sure if my friend FairEagle has ever chopped down a fruit tree of any kind, but who knows what might be in store for him.

George wore a powdered wig, of course, as was the style at the time, but what few realize is that his teeth were all wooden. In fact, most people - when they came out West - had their teeth pulled and replaced with wooden ones to circumvent the whole gingivitus thing. It wasn't until the advent of Colgate Total in the mid-1870s (soon after Custer's infamous "last stand", I think), that things started to change for the better.

Sitting Bull had all his original teeth when he died in his sleep at the ripe old age of 103....... coincidence? I think not.

Anyway. Enough about Manifest Destiny. The real issue at hand is the anniversary of Jon FairEagle's birth. If there's one human being that could rightfully grace the Sitting Bulls and Custers of old by his mere presence, it is undoubtedly FairEagle. To quip his high school mathematics teacher, the man is "a walking mathematician." He's also legendary among his closest friends for once climbing into the mammoth-sized chicken bucket on the roof of a KFC. Much more can be said of Jon, but time will not allow it. So, in the timeless words of Daytona Bogart - I mean, Splendour - "here's looking at you, [Jon FairEagle]."

And here's looking at all of you out there in bloglandia! Until next day, good bye FROM....
-Casey
-Finnigan
-Bethanne
-Alligator Al
-that bird lady
-Drell
-the Tickle Trunk
-Max, the computer at the community centre that's actually Mr. Dress-Up
-And me........... Mr. Tomahawk!

Weather at the Nest: a Little Cloudy, But Not Dead.

2005-02-16T16:12:00.000-08:00

First off, folks, I'd like to put your minds at ease and dispell a couple of unfortunate rumours. I didn't even realize what was going on until the incoming fan mail here at the "Hawk's nest" suddenly ceased and was subsequently replaced by letters of condolence to my family and close friends.

There were also letters of sympathy directed specifically to me regarding my oral surgery - another rumour. Just to clarify, I still have my four back-most molars...... otherwise, how could I be so wise?

Anyway, the other rumour I'm alluding to was conveyed by my young pupil, Tona, in a recent post, and also in the obituaries of one of the foremost and potently influential electronic newsletters in the modern Western world. I'm speaking, of course, of The Town Hall. It has been contended that the sole reason J.F.K. defeated Nixon in 1960 was that Nixon went to the Wall Street Journal for important political and economic information, whereas J.F.K. always fell back on The Town Hall.

The Town Hall has achieved notoriety for its immuculately inerrant account of "the day's events," but I'm afraid its reputation is about to plunge of the nearest cliff like a veritable herd of lemmings. I thank the obituarist for his/her kind words in my memory, but I must insist that they were premature, for..... here I am, observing the world, as always, from here in my noble nest.

My immiediate concern upon hearing of the rumour of my passing, of course, was for Tona. If anyway had a more child-like, naive trust in the integrity of The Town Hall than I did, it was Tona. Not only that, but Tona was a very good friend of mine. I think he even saw himself as my Blog-master, just as I see him as my pupil in matters of the mind. The truth is, it was by virtue of Tona's absolute zeal for learning, and specifically from me, that I first established this virtual think-tank (as my academic colleagues at the Pentagon call it). Needless to say, dear Daytona was crushed when he first heard the bogus reports, and has been on a real roller-coaster this week (the emotional kind of roller coaster). It took Tona some time to believe that it was really me in the flesh when Drell and I came to visit him and squelch his worst fears (which had been grounded in the bunk obituary). Nevertheless, Drell talked him through that fragile time as I looked on reflectively. It helped both Tona and I to realize that we take this life for granted and often miss out on the little things that make life so precious. . . . .

Well, Dawson is pestering me for the use of the computer. He likes to watch the fireworks on the screen saver.... So this has been a round-about way of assuring you all that the Hawk is alive and flapping! Come talk again some time.

Don't Forget Drell

2005-02-14T11:30:00.000-08:00

Hey folks! A long drought as usual, but it's sure swell to be back at the "dashboard" again.

Today in class I spent the entire 50 minutes trying to remember how to spell 'Nieitszchsche.' Apparently I failed. I'm sure it incorporates one N, and any number of 'e's and 'i's and 'h's and 's's and 'z's, but I really can't get much farther than that. I don't struggle with spelling usually so it was especially troubling for me; so much so that I was lost in such deep concentration that I acutally pinched some guy's leg between the his seat and my desktop when I was trying to flip my desk top down at the end of class. You know how those 'flippy-slidy' desk things work. Well, he jumped up quite quickly and it made me feel bad. At the point I stopped thinking about spelling and started thinking about what I should share with you on the blog today.

So I started my usual process of observing the people around me to look for some writing inspiration. Have you ever noticed how often you see someone smiling to themself, and how funny it is to observe? I saw 3-4 people on my little jaunt from my classroom to the library that were just smirking to themselves about who-knows-what. One girl in particular was walking alone and just smiling like a chipmunk on St. Patty's Day. Perhaps she was thinking about that A+ she just got on her nuclear-physics assignment. Maybe she had just caught up with an old friend from second grade. Had she been proposed to the night before? Possibly, but who would propose the day before Valentine's Day. Maybe she was articulating in her own mind the solution to world hunger, and was deciding where in her new apartment she would hang her Nobel Prize.

Or, maybe, she was thinking about what she was going to write on her blog. For I noticed as I mused at the fact that this girl was smiling so big, that I too had a wide grin pasted across my face, amusing myself at what I might write on my blog. The fact is, most people, I think, when you see them smiling at nothing in particular, are most likely smiling at some funny thing they've thought, or something they might say, or are perhaps smiling at how they might want to express that thought to someone else. For example, the reason I was smiling when I was walking over to the library today was that I was thinking about how so many people I see have bird-like facial features, and how that would be such a funny and interesting topic of conversation. I had, in fact, formulated an entire blog entry on how people can be categorized based on which of a few species of animals they happen to look most like - birds and crocadiles being the two most common.

I also arrived at the conclusion that most people, if they're smart, think they're the most funniest person in the world. Because, at least in your thoughts, you always stay true to the kind of humour you most enjoy, and you basque in it; and this is something that sometimes shows through in the outward expression of a smile. But hey, if it brightens up someone's day, then so be it.

I've noticed that Drell almost always has a sort of smile on his face, even when he's walking around by himself - its probably just the reconstructive surgery though.

Well, nice to chat as usual. This is the 'hawk' signing out.

Ode to Cy

2005-02-01T14:51:00.000-08:00

Hey everybody. It's been too long, hasn't it?

Well, I've got good news. As you all know, I had thought I needed to get my wisdom teeth pulled, but it was only a horrible dream...... It reminds me of the time I thought I had mono for a whole year, but it turned out I was just really bored.

Actually, the wisdom teeth thing was really an all-out fib - I thought it would make a good story or topic of conversation I suppose. Drell was a little T.O.ed that I had misled him, especially in lieu of his own painful experience, to believe that I would soon be his brother in dental suffering. He insisted that, deep down inside, I must have felt guilty about lying to him. I have to admit, he was effective. There's something about those little 'guilt phrases,' like 'deep down inside,' that make you start to second-guess yourself. And they can be skewed to manipulate others too:

Try it next time you forget your bus pass. When the bus driver says, "I think it'd be best if you go back inside and buy a 3 dollar ticket and catch the next bus, a half-hour from now;" just say, "sir, are you sure you feel that way.... deep down inside?" The guilt will hit him hard, he'll just assume that, since you've appealed to his sub-conscious, that you must be right, and that he must be awful.

There're other catch phrases that will have the same effect, too. How about "does it have to be this way?" or "what would old grandpa Joe have to say about this?" There are certainly an array of so-called 'guilt phrases' like the aforementioned that may be employed in a given situation, and they have a commom thread in that they're all premised on guilt and introspection. So try one next time you get in a sticky situation. Let's say a cop pulls you over to give you a speeding ticket: maybe "does it have to be this way?" won't hit home with the officer, but there's a chance that you'll get lucky and he'll actually have a grandfather, or at least some sort of mentor figure, by the name of Joe.

Well, it's been good chatting again, but I've gotta go field some calls now.......... you know, the whole Cy Young thing. Peace out.

Do You Suppose Someone Such as DesCartes Would Have Had His Wisdom Teeth Pulled?

2005-01-28T17:02:00.000-08:00

Well folks, its been a good stay in the world of blog thus far. I think we've got a pretty good variety show thing going on here, but I've been getting a lot of comments lately from people wanting to know a little bit about what's going on in my own life.

Well, as many of you know, I was recently nominated for the Cy Young award, so that's obviously been taking up a lot of my time.

And on to other things. First, a couple of housekeeping issues: Why is it that the one time in the whole year that you're possessed for some unknown reason to give the toilet a good scrubbing, you're out of toilet bowl cleaner? Is that God telling you that cleaning the bathroom just isn't important? not a good investment of your time?

Maybe........ but I don't know.

One thing I do know: getting your wisdom teeth pulled sucks! Drell had to get reconstructive surgery after his little outting to the wisdom tooth doctor. Dawson was so outraged when he found out that he had to lose a couple of the old chiclets, he just flared his nostrils a little wider and stormed right out of the doctor's office. Tomorrow's the big day for me. I'm planning to spend this evening just eating things that are really hard to chew while I still can - you know, like precious stones and muffin stumps.

Well, it's been good again. Gotta bounce, I'm all done my chores and I'm late for some prime rib!

My Friend Drell

2005-01-27T17:23:00.000-08:00

Welcome to the first "Teachable Moment." Since this thing is brand new, I've got nothing to teach yet, so we could just have a yodel party, or, I could explain why I think Mace Windu should be the next president of the United States. Two words folks: light sabre.

Well, onto other things. Stop signs. People, if you're coming from a secondary road onto a primary road, its first-come, first served. None of this special treatment for the 'straight throughers'

I think I've ranted long enough about traffic issues. You know, I was sitting on my bed the other day, and I started thinking, if I could go anywhere in the world in a hot-air balloon, where would I go?, and the answer was obviously "no". It reminds me of what my friend Drell once said of his favourite past-time - fishing: "the best time to go fishing is to go up North." But that was another time............ anyway, why go anywhere in a hot-air balloon when you could just teleport?

Actually I saw Drell the other day at the supermarket. I said, "hey Drell, you look all dressed to go dreaming!" "No" he said. Dawson was there too, and looked to be deeply troubled by something, his nostrils flared and all.

I hadn't seen them for ages so it was good to catch up.

Anyway, thats all for now. Thanks for talkin with the hawk. Party on.