Bad Elf

My idea of the perfect elf is something similar to the character played by Will Ferrell in the movie, Elf. A good elf should be full of the Christmas spirit, oozes love and kindness, and wraps the perfect present. I try to be full of the Christmas spirit and ooze love and kindness, but I fail miserably in one important category- present wrapping.

I try to be a good wrapper, I really do. I attempt to carefully estimate the exact amount of wrapping paper needed. I fold the paper with nice little creases; try to make triangles that fold in on themselves to cover the ends, and use just the minimum of tape, but the presents I wrap are easy to spot under the tree. It is like my presents have been dragged behind Santa's sled over all the neighbors’ roofs.

When I wrap presents, the Lorax cries. I often find myself using twice the amount of paper that is needed for some gifts. The ends of the gifts have so much paper bunched up that I feel compelled to get my staple gun and tack down the corners. The seams are angled oddly on the sides, and sometimes on the front of my gifts. On the presents that I don't use too much paper, I don't use nearly enough paper. It is not unusual for my presents to have holes on the sides and on the back of the gifts that must be patched with scraps. The end result is like some sort of patch work wrapping experiment that requires four times the normal amount of tape. The frightening Frankenstein present.

There is no perfectly wrapped gift from me. There are always highly noticeable issues that stand out like neck bolts. It is like I am missing the present wrapping gene.

Last night the marathon of gift wrapping began, but Amy was not feeling well. Hanging out with the kids over the last two days without me left her worn-out, and fighting a bad cold. She totally has my sympathy, but with three kids and two days before the major unwrapping event, the job had to be done.

So, I volunteered to wrap presents and told her to just label the presents as I finish. I had completely forgotten that I cannot do this task without looking like a spaz. How that had escaped me I really don't know because as soon as the present and the wrapping tools are within arm’s length, it all comes rushing back to me.

Amy was watching me align presents and create my Christmas origami mysteries, but I refused to meet her eye. I knew she was ready to burst out laughing and I just couldn't be distracted from the task at hand. There was no time to be mocked.

But there was plenty of time to curse and mutter under my breath about the ridiculous shape of toy packaging- large rectangular cuboids- Stupid!

Tape is another problem for me- sometimes it is too sticky, other times it is not sticky enough, and just when you are on a large, challenging wrapping job and you only have one hand free to seal the deal, you run out. Even though I buy tape three packs at a time, I can never find the other two rolls. I have been known to resort to using duct tape in a pinch.

This year I bought a handy little paper cutter. You just run the tool down the length of the paper and it cuts the perfect straight line. Bull! This thing cannot cut a straight line, and after you have used it a few times, it no longer wants to cut paper at all. It wants to shred paper, making bunched up tears, and jagged ripples that make every cut an adventure.

I was trying to do my present wrapping on my bed. There really couldn't be a more difficult place to wrap things, it is too soft, with pillows and blankets and I always tear holes in the paper by accidently pushing the present through the paper on the reverse side and into the bed. The problem is that my little people are all jacked up on the idea of Christmas presents and the sound of wrapping paper is like the sound of bells to Pavlov's dogs. When you are an elf at my house, you must wrap under the most strict security measures possible- locked door, wait an hour after the kid's bedtime, and you must listen for the sounds of stirring gremlins. There is no wrapping at the dining room table…

For some problems in life there are no solutions, we just do the best we can. The wrapping problem continues, and Amy's cold is worse. I bought lots of extra tape, and few extra 1000 ft rolls of wrapping paper. Later today I will coffee up and do it all. I am a little over halfway through the gifts that I remember needing to wrap, but the job must be done – even if I am a bad elf!

In the spirit of the season, I would like to share this little song with you-



Happy Holidays!

Bean Head

Last week I got a bad haircut. It makes my head look like the shape of one of those chocolate covered goobers. I've come to realize that I'm not comfortable seeing parts of my own scalp.
Sharde', my former hairstylist, has apparently left town. The rumor is that she has run off to Georgia with her boyfriend. Or at least that's what they tell me at the Hair Cuttery up the street.

We had an odd business relationship. She was a student who used to attend the school that I still work at, and while she was an adult, I still saw her as a child.

We would talk about the people that she remembered from school and I would fill her in on the latest news. Sometimes she would tell me how things were going in her life I would have to resist the urge to give advice. Once, she told me about a new tattoo that she was getting to match her boyfriend's tattoo. I smiled and said something like, "That is nice," and hoped she wouldn't. Not that there is anything wrong with tattoos. Matching tattoos just seemed to be something that she might someday regret.

I would always wait for her to cut my hair. One time I waited for an hour. I never wait for anyone or anything, but for her I felt obligated to do that to support her independence. Somehow, seeing her do well made me feel better.

As loyal as I was to her, even lining up my family to get hair cuts just from her, she didn't give the greatest haircut ever. I didn't mind that my oldest son's hair line in the back was cut at a 10 degree angle. I didn't care that my hair was not always uniformly cut and had spots that were obviously longer than all of the neighboring hairs. I was happy just knowing that she was still doing ok.

Last week, I got a hair cut that I am just not happy with, I mean it is short and relatively uniform, but it is weird. I think that it is strange because someone new cut my hair and I am a tougher critic of her work.

The family was all out of the house and everyone was still under control, so I decided to go to a new place- still cheap, but I had never been there before. The girl seemed nice enough, but she used the number four clipper straight up the side of my head. It is like a long buzz cut or something. The bad thing about a haircut is that often by the time you know things are wrong; it is way too late to say anything. She left sideburns on me. Sure, I have always toyed with the idea of some Captain Kirk side burns that come to a point, and giggled about possibly growing some fat 70's Elvis styled side burns, but as a rule, I opt out of that kind of facial hair.


While this girl (and I really don't use that term in a negative way- she was young, but definitely an adult) was cutting my hair, my daughter was watching very closely, and standing 2 to 3 feet away. This really seemed to distract my new hairstylist. At the time she was working on the over the ears part and the back hairline. It seems that she looked away at some point while working on my left side because it is higher than the other side and has a little knick in it. So I can't really fix the sideburns without drawing attention the larger nicked up gap on the left side.

So now I am out there in the giant hair grooming world trying to find someone who understands what I want. I just want my hair shorter and I really don't want to talk about it. I know that I don't want it to look stupid but I also know that there are some things that other people need to help me with- that is why I am not trying to cut my own hair in front of a mirror. I know that normally Sharde' would use a number 4 clipper cover and kind of taper it up from the bottom. All the rest of the hair would get trimmed and she would never say something like, "Do you want me to trim your eyebrows?" - I was furious when I heard that! I also don't want anyone to bring attention the fact that my hair is pulling back from my face like the tide. If a bald spot is forming where I can't see it, my hair person should not ask me, "When did the aliens land?"

I think it is also important to talk to me, and to laugh at half of any jokes that I tell. When I say that my hair is turning blond again, just like when I was a child, my hair stylist should laugh like it is the funniest thing they have ever heard, and say, "Yes, it is getting more blond!" I feel better about tipping when my stupid jokes get laughs.

Until my next haircut, I am just going to keep a low profile. Really, how close do people get to you to see all of the little imperfections of your hair? If you stay far away, no one can even tell that your hair looks bad. I will just try to stay at least 20 yards from everyone for about 3 more weeks.

No Pants Day, One Day Early

Wow. I had no idea that anyone would read anything I wrote. For all of those people who agreed, or disagreed with me, thanks for responding. I started off trying to respond to each individual comment, but gave up around 11:30 pm last night. I was beginning to get defensive and feeling a little overwhelmed. I am not concerned about the world knowing or responding to me. Fame and fortune are not my in my present or my future. I accepted that a long time ago.

Tomorrow is No Pants Day, and since I would get fired or thrown in jail for celebrating this holiday at work, I thought I would metaphorically drop my pants and let the world see me for who I am. Plus it seemed like a good idea in light of people trying to upset me by saying unkind things. I don't think they have enough ammunition. You have to remember that I have been put down, called names, and made fun of for years!

Here are some of my faults;
I am not a tall person, and what is worse, I lied on my driver's license application. 5' 10" - Yeah right!
My wife, Amy, says that I have ugly, long toed feet.
Amy has suggested that I begin taking Beano as a dietary supplement.
I am carrying around more weight than I want to admit. Again, driver's license discrepancy!
I have had a continuous bad hair day for the last month or so.
While I am sharing about my hair, it is receding, as my friend Mark loves to point out. I don't know where it is going, but I hope it has fun there.
I was born a White Trash baby. I am still trying to overcome that upbringing. I did get rid of the broken down car in the driveway.
I am messy. You could tell that just by looking at my blog, I am sure. I don't think I even responded to people correctly.
I love the Redskins. That ought to get someone's attention.
Bathroom humor cracks me up.
I can barely dress myself in a presentable manner. I wish they had adult Geranimals.
After wearing braces as a child, my teeth now have strange gaps and are relocating to new places.
I am not a smart person. This is a good one. My step-father used to love to point this out to me. He was right.
I like Star Trek.
I am a bad speller.
While math may be the language of the universe, I am not a native speaker.

I can't think of anything else right now, although I am sure there is more, but if you can help me with this list, feel free to share. Friends know me best. Others may need some help, but that is what the list is for!

I would like to say one final thing about all this Special Message commentary. Say whatever you want, but keep it clean. That is a rule I have for my blog so I would like for everyone else to behave similarly. Never talk about my Mama or my family. If you can live with these two rules I will leave up what you say. If I can say what I want here, I have no problems allowing anyone else their two cents worth. I do believe in freedom of speech. If you wish to say something mean, go ahead, but remember, you get bonus points for creativity!

I will be happy to speak with anyone at any time in a pleasant manner, but I don't think that I am going to reply to any further comments to the Special Message post. Good ones or critical ones (I said that to be fair to everyone). If you want me to read what you say, don’t worry, I read it all.

But it is time to move on!

Not a good day...

I am not sure what I expected when I decided to change the way I do everything in my job. Maybe I thought that simply because I was doing the right thing for the students that it would be easier to take the negative backlash from the teachers. I was wrong.

I have mentally prepared for every discussion that I could have with any person regarding my new philosophy, but the difference is preparing for battle, and being engaged in battle. You practice on the football field, but when it is game time, it hurts when you get tackled -even though you know it is coming.

Could be that it is just a bad day for me. I'll get over it. This year is still better than last year, or the year before... because I really feel like I am making a difference. That maybe I am helping students and even a few teachers with technology. Last year and before, by this time the routine of the year set in and I felt left behind. Everyday felt at least a little like this; slogging through an endless muddy field with no direction.

Now, most days are exciting and I feel like I am accomplishing something. It is hard for me to let things go, even small things can really get under my skin. But I am going to try to rise above it, and continue on the path that I have set for myself. Hopefully, this is just one little thing that will amount to nothing.