lucky you

highland springs elementary. or is it high school? i'm not sure, but i pass it once every day. since my stalker hasn't been around in a few months (that i know of ... maybe he's just doing a better job) i've gotten brave enough to include the stretch of road that goes by the gas station where we first met in my afternoon commute. somehow i've convinced myself that this route is improving my gas mileage.

what is the deal with people on the same floor who talk to each other via speaker phone? cripe.
wow. that guy's fired up.

so, the sign at the entrance to the highland springs mystery school currently says, "SOL Testing." see? i've managed to weed out the northerners ... i know you ... you're snickering.

where i come from, SOL doesn't mean "standards of learning," and it doesn't require a test. SOL is more like the condition of showing up to the test without a pencil ... and no one will lend you one ... not even the teacher. i remember going to take the SAT (probably the first time because i wasn't nauseous), being corralled into a tiny, public erie school classroom, and seeing kids come in with pens. they didn't qualify just then as SOL because they could have cared less. the difference between them and the kids who were begging writing implements from other kids was fear.

as soon as the pen kids realized that they couldn't take the SAT with a purple pen and suffered that initial twinge of panic, they became SOL. you can't be totally SOL until you're conscious that you're SOL. other people might recognize you as SOL before you acknowledge it, but at that point, you're just "potentially SOL." it's doesn't take complete effect until you are fully aware of your situation.

why does virginia test for SOL? i guess down here it's harder to tell. there must be different SOL rules if you can't just know by looking at them which kids are potentially SOL and which kids aren't at any given moment. i blame their parents. if your kid is living in a constant, virtual SOL state, what kind of example are you setting? even if they're not, what kind of example is teaching them to appear to be SOL?

the only thing i can figure is that it's a blood test.

thinking of bob

i passed dan on the stairs today and he asked how i was.
"pretty good."
how was he?
"excellent."
i think about bob almost every day because almost every day is pretty good.

excellent.
how did he do it?
it's not about outside influences.
raining? it happens.
rough nite? it's over.
fail a test? study next time.

how do i get to excellent?
responsibility.
embrace it.
be accountable for yourself.
be a positive influence.
sometimes that's all it takes.
attitude.
attitude.
attitude.
i'm infinitely lucky to have his guidance,
but i miss him.

"poise, gentlemen, poise."

pancakes

what is it about colonials and outlet malls that gives people, namely tourists, a hankering for batter-based breakfast foods? no, really, i'm asking.

mom and i spent saturday afternoon shopping in williamsburg and not once did she say to me, "you know, i could really go for a syrup drenched belgian waffle. and eggs." even when we both finally admitted to each other how extremely hungry we were, we agreed on a popular non-breakfast-oriented chain instead of the pancake and waffle house, the waffle and pancake house, and IHOP. and gazebo pancakes.

here's my theory: when america was still in the midst of its grand opening celebration (a.k.a., the revolutionary war) it was too dangerous to just hop on your horse and trot down to the local burger king for an order of onion rings ... especially if you were wearing blue or gray. there was probably also a tariff on french fries. so, everyone ended up having to eat at home all the time.

and what meal is most often eaten at home? breakfast! and what did colonial america not have enough of? chickens! but what they did have a lot of was flour because there was a lot of dirt. and the dirt, as we all know, is where flour comes from.

so, they mixed the flour with water and out came pancakes and sometimes waffles ... and they ate them in their houses, safe from enemy fire.

because pancakes and waffles are so filling, there really wasn't a need to hit the local BK or bullets on the way to or from the battlefields. eventually those melted out of existence until the early 1920s when the revolutionary war came mostly to an end and people had eaten enough pancakes to satisfy future generations and now all they wanted was a small, greasy meat patty that contained meat from between 10 and 100 cows and was slopped between soggy bread and, get this, "american" cheese.

but the point is, clearly the revolutionary war lives on in williamsburg (but with relatively less open shooting). you don't have to visit "colonial williamsburg" to experience it. just drive down 60 and have some pancakes. there are about a bazillion pancake houses within one square mile to choose from. it'll be great. you'll see. the family will love it.