The Quiet Before the Storm

All the greatest things in life come down to deadlines. If its worth doing, worth pursuing, then it will probably have a somewhat firm deadline attached to it.

The end of term flew in and out, without too many passengers say stranded at JFK.

Most of the week was standardized tests, and the pressure these students face is unimaginable. I suppose standardized tests have been high-stakes for awhile now, but then what? Once they pass the WASL in tenth grade, where do we go from here?

The answer is, quite resoundly, we don't care. It's a benchmark system. Trying to teach students to express themselves clearly is difficult in a world of standardized tests.

A new term came into town, savvy and sophisticated, if early journals are any indication.

Next week is more standardized testing, but today is a regular day. The in between days are the most important. We're in between areas, gasping for breath.

All this while trying to write, I must be mad. I've been reading Death of a Salesman again, research for my book, wherein the protagonist plays the part of Willy Loman in a High School play.

Each night I work on this I have vivid dreams, where areas and people are blended, like the United States in a grafted cross-stitch. My wife just finished her work sample, and is one step closer to being a licensed teacher. I remember the time.

Work doesn't want to acknowledge the fact I have a Video Department. Now I know how the Quebecois feel.

Its SxSw in Austin right now, thousands of bands and discovery. Youth, a concept I know well, but am distanced from. Too tall to ride that ride.

The new Wilco record, Sky Blue Sky, seems to anticipate the Summer. Languid, hot and free. The new patio, writing, reading paperback books until my hands sweat. Battling the Sleestacks in the backyard.

Rode the bicycle the other day. There's something magical about being on a bike path and having a river on your left and an airplane landing on the right. My Dad got his pilot's license. Perhaps someday, I'll bike to the airport to meet him there.

Creative time, ha. Yeah, how does he do it? Squandered time everyday. Working on a novel is continuous, always trying out new ways of doing something.

All for now,

Kronski