December 30, 2005

Quick entry (I hope). Before I get on my rowing machine, I thought that I would do a blog entry (trying to keep up with my new year resolution). Even though I used up my free minutes for my internet connection, I think that if I don’t keep up with my entries, I will end up starting the New Year the same way as the previous years, lots of plans and promises, but no results.

After procrastinating for a couple of days, I finally used my rowing machine yesterday. I only stayed on for 15 minutes; I did not want to risk injuring myself. In the past, injuring myself was something I often did. My knees, my back, my arms, my shoulders, etc… At one point in time or another, I am sure I must have injured every muscle in my body. This time, I really want to try to do things right, or at the very least, to do things better.

I don’t have much to write about today. I made a few errand runs today, and spent a couple of hours at the internet café.

My plans tomorrow are to

Go to the internet café to post this blog entry (I'll back date it to the approx. time this was written)
Go to the American Museum of Natural History. I haven’t done a single thing worth writing about this vacation, and I haven’t gone anywhere.
Go to the mall to buy another white shirt.
To exercise on my rowing machine.

Now that I’ve put it in writing, it will be interesting (to me) to see if I follow through with the plan.

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Yesterday I finally received my rowing machine. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this machine. There is a whole story that goes with this machine, but in trying to keep with my new resolution, I am going to try to keep this short. Below is a cut and paste from an e-mail that I’d written. I can save a little time by cutting and pasting it below.

…A little bit of background information might help you understand my situation.
*I made a full payment by check.
*Although the check was cashed, about 2 weeks after it was cashed, I was still receiving messages on my account saying that they were still waiting to receive payment.
*They gave me 3 different delivery dates (each one came and went).
*I was told that there was a “glitch” in their computer system, and with a five dollar gift certificate, I should please be patient.
*After waiting about another week, I just canceled the order; it was then that they told me the item was out of stock.
*In total, it was almost about a 2 month run around.
For me, it was highly annoying day by day coming home wondering when and if the item would be there. I find that as I get older the abundance of patience that I once had slowly dissipating.

With the above episode over, I searched the internet, and I found another rowing machine. Why did I choose a rowing machine? I wanted a machine that would let a homebody (someone who does not like going out) like me to exercise in front of the TV.
For about the last three years (off and on), I’ve been leading a fairly sedentary life-style. That year – I was in Japan. I was paid to sit in the teacher’s room from 8:30 to 5pm (Monday thru Friday), even though kids were on summer vacation. Since the school paid for an English teacher, I guess they were determined to have an English teacher. Basically, I was the only one in the school (not including the old lady who gave me coffee each morning, and the principal, and the few teachers who would occasionally come in to read newspapers, chat or work?!?!).

Sorry, I am getting sidetracked. Basically, from then on, my life (professionally and personally) has been on a slow decline. For the most part, it has been my fault. Starting with the exercising, my New Year’s resolution is to get back on track. With this blog, I am hoping that by putting my plans (and actions) in writing, it will motivate me to do something to turn my life around.

Well, I was planning to write about my rowing machine, but I am going to stop here, so that I don’t turn this entry into a 2 hour ranting. Ja mata…

P.S. – The last couple of times, I’ve tried to post more than one photo, but I have not been successful, so I have to limit myself to having only one attachment. The photo is the completed rowing machine. It took me about a couple of hours to put it together. I would have finished sooner if I was not watching TV at the time (also if I had the correct tools).

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Happy holiday! Well, I am almost sure your Christmas was better than mine. I wasn’t really in a festive mood. I stayed in my room until about 2pm. No breakfast and only two bathroom visits. Each time I was planning to come out there was either an argument or a conflict, so I just stayed in my room. I really did not want to deal with conflict this morning. As for the weather, it rained all day.

A couple of hours ago, my foster father’s lady friend’s son stopped by. He had his daughter and his girlfriend’s son with him. Why am I writing about the kids? I thought both of them were incredibly rude, but I could have just been overly sensitive.

While my foster father's lady friend's son was in my room (dropped off a few DVDs for me to watch – which was very nice), first his girl friend’s son basically walked in without an excuse me or a may I come in. Then later, the daughter came in, after her father left. She was eye-balling my things like she was casing the joint (english expression meaning to make a plan to steal by studying the surroundings). She asked me if she could use my computer to down load music onto her new MD3 player.

* I was struck speechless by the fact she knew I had a computer (laptop) under a pile of paper and junk on my table.
* I was surprised (dumbstruck) at her gall. Although I’d seen her once or twice (when she was a baby); I was basically talking to her for the first time.

A part of me wanted to go into an old geezer tirade about lack of respect from kids today, but instead, I just told her that I did not think it was a good idea. So, what did she say next (waving and jiggling her MD player)? She brags that she is so spoiled. I’m thinking to myself, “really”. She told me that she asked for the MD player yesterday, and got it today. What next?

A few minutes later, the girl friend’s son walked in again (followed closely by the daughter). The kid (son) was 9 years old.

He asked, “What do you have on your computer”.
Me: Excuse me?
Son: What games do you have I can play with on your computer?

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Sorry. My e-mail was supposed to be a reply to your e-mail, but it has turned into a blog entry. I was not planning to write anymore blog entries for a while, but since I have one, I guess I will post it. Unfortunately, it is late now, so I won’t be able to reply to your e-mail tonight. Happy Holiday!!!

December 27, 2005
Hello again. There was a little bit of a delay with sending the above apart of my reply. When I logged onto a "free" internet company I discovered that they changed my free 20 hour internet access (per month) to 10 hours without any notice. Each month I would keep a record in my notebook each day I was on the internet, including start time and end time, plus the total time spent on the internet each time. I would usually round up to be sure that I would have enough time to last. All of that record keeping, and they just change the time without notification. Now for the next 5 days, I will have to go to the internet café. Oh well.

This will be my final entry for a while. Why?

...just a quick one I wanted to tell you before I forget. You know something, after reading your blogs in Japan, and then in America, I personally thinkyour English is getting worse in your writing.

I received an e-mail from one of my pen pals (he currently lives in Japan). We were a couple of American English teachers working for the same company. There was nothing necessarily bad about the e-mail, just bad timing. I have a bad habit of answering the few e-mails I get when I am in a bad mood, in this case, listening to a minor incredibly petty (and incredibly loud) shouting match between my foster father and his lady friend. Not to mention the other "family" things I've avoided writing about. If you look at some of my blog posting times, you will be able to see that sleep has not been a high priority with me.

About my blog. I see my choices as being very limited:

1. I could just ignore the above comment(continue making embrassing mistakes [for a teacher] ).
2. Spend an extra hour (on top of the 1 or 2 hours I already spend per entry) to try proof-reading my entries.
3. Take a break from writing about the stress at work and at home (until there is less stress in my life).

I choose 3. In a couple of weeks, I should be feeling better. If I delete my blog by then, then it means I was feeling worst than I thought .

Take care.
Best regards.

Quick entry. Tomorrow evening (actually today [I just looked at the clock on the wall]) I have a workshop to go to after school at BOE HQ in Brooklyn (4 to 6pm). The workshop is about process for getting the New York State Teaching license that I lost (and the new requirements in place) since my return to New York. That reminds me, in a future blog, I really should comment on the many changes to the teaching styles that have occurred while I’ve been overseas. The reading, math, science, social studies, and assessments have all changed. I suppose it was good that I returned from an educational point of view. Sorry, I’m getting sidetracked.

The first entry I want to make was about yesterday. Since I’ve been working, I’ve never been late to school. Yesterday, I arrived at 7:48; school starts at 8:30. I did not receive my schedule until 8:29. Never mind that I’ve been carrying about a 15 pound shopping bag filled with worksheets. Yes, filled with worksheets! I also have a backpack loaded with other teaching materials. I usually don’t know what grade I’ll be teaching, so I try to have enough material to at least pretend that I am professional and prepared.

Anyway, after receiving my schedule – and to no surprise, I have a class first period! The assistant principal also asked me to make a copy of the handwritten schedule for her. I had to wait about 3 or 4 minutes for a regular teacher to finish making her copies (in the copy room), she said that she could not let me skip her to make my one copy because she had a lesson first period (and had just put in OHP transparencies into the copy machine).

Today, I would be doing prep periods (for other teachers) in their classrooms. What I like about this school (relatively speaking) is that there is usually enough space to give me a classroom to do a prep period schedule in a classroom, but not today.

Since I had no classroom, I carried my jacket, backpack and shopping bag (filled with worksheets) up to the 3rd floor. I arrived about 15 minutes late. Upon arriving, the classroom teacher scolds me for coming late telling me, “don’t come late to my classroom” in front of her students. I wanted to explode, but instead I did a bumbling, fumbling attempt to explain why I was late. Never mind that she had already met me (a couple of days ago). She met me in the main office around 5pm; she was impressed to have met a substitute teacher who stayed after 3pm. Anyway, back to the present.

It just so happened that I had a lesson plan (and materials) to teach (entertain!?!?), however, the classroom teacher said that was not necessary, and that I could save my lesson for another class. She said that her class would be no problem while she was out of the room, and that I would love having her class.

To be honest, as much as a hate to admit it, she was correct, (relatively speaking), her class was very, very, extremely well behaved. I could see the students had the potential to fall apart (and go wild) if she took the day off, but they were very well behaved. They managed to stay on task for the whole period. So, what happened when the classroom teacher returned?

Nothing!

She came in and started talking to her students as if I didn’t exist. I waited about a minute (or two) to see if she would say anything to me…but, nothing. I put on my jacket, my backpack, and picked up my shopping bag…still nothing. No thank you. No, “how was my class? Nothing. I walked to the door, thanking the class for having me…nothing. She continued with her directions to her students ignoring me.

Later in the hallway, she walks past me and says “hello, how was your day?” I wanted to tell her off, but I ended up saying “fine”.

Next period, I was supposed to go to help the reading teacher, so I carried my things to the reading teacher’s room, only to be told that my schedule had been changed, and that I should take my things and go to the main office.

What was the new change?

I would be doing one on one instruction for one of the problem students. For 2 periods! I actually enjoyed it.

There was more to the day, but for the sake of time, I am going to jump to today.


Today, I arrived to school at 7:50. I received my schedule at 8:30. Again, for the sake of time, I’m skipping the details.

My Schedule?

I would be working in the S.A.V.E. (Schools Against Violence Education) program. I was told that every school had the program. I would be giving instruction to a group of 3 students -- who were each suspended from school for on reason or another. Basically, I would have the group for the whole day minus my lunch and my prep period. Again for the sake of time…

I really enjoyed myself. For the first time, I made it through the day stress free. Notice that I did not use “relatively speaking”. Yes, one boy was difficult (try spoiled rotten – or he has issues I am unaware of), but for the most part, I enjoyed myself. I was a little annoyed that those boys could still be a little disruptive with only three in a classroom, but, relatively speaking I would enjoy doing it again. Problem, “lighting rarely strikes twice”.

Ja mata…

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Quick blog entry. Today I was a substitute teacher for the same 3rd grade class I had on Friday. Relatively speaking the experience was less stressful than some of the other classes (and school) that I’ve been to. They were wild, loud, disrespectful, and at times very vulgar. I was told by the science teacher that the regular homeroom teacher of this class yelled so much (at this class) that she lost her voice, and that was why the regular homeroom teacher did not come to school on Friday.

To try to manage this class, I remember that I had a digital camera. So I told the students that I would take photos of them doing the things that parents tend to not believe (i.e. crawling on the floor, playing and drawing on the desk, etc…) Their behavior improved only slightly. Unfortunately, I could not record some the things that the students have been saying in class. For example:

Remember that this is a 3rd grade classroom.

Get away from me bitch!
Fuck you!
Shouting out “I peed on myself” (then laughing out loud[then others imitating])
Don’t touch him he has AIDS.
Just a few of the comments that I remember at this moment. Also, it is unfortunate that I am too slow to catch the things that have been thrown across the room (pencils, scissors, markers, balls of paper, rubber bands counting blocks, dominoes, books etc…). I have attached a photos of just some of the items that I collected today.

Anyway, to make a long story short. Threatening the students with the photos has only been moderately successful.

How is this for a response? One of the wilder students, who has been caught on camera; playing with a toy, crawling on the floor (looking for the disks that his toy shoots), sticking paper on his forehead, not reading (during reading time), etc…He has done all of that, but he continued to be disruptive, even over the repeated reminders of the photos. He only shrugged his shoulders with the reminders in an “I don’t care” attitude. However, he lost one of his gloves, and he cried like a baby, worried that he would get in trouble for losing his glove.

December the 4th was supposed to have been payday, but since it was a Sunday, I will probably receive my paycheck in the mail tomorrow, or the next day.

Finally, there is snow storm expected tonight. The weather report predicts that we (here in New York) might receive either a light dusting of snow, or 4 to 6 inches drop. I am looking forward to getting my second paycheck since returning to NY. My first one was small, this next paycheck will be a little bigger. Is it irony that (at the moment) I am earning less money than I did teaching English in Japan, but I have much, much, much more stress to deal with.

Well, until next time…

New school, same old nonsense. Today I substituted at another school. This school was smaller than the other schools. There were only 3rd, 4th , and 5th grades. I was the substitute science teacher. However, since I did not have any science materials, I did my usually math worksheet lesson. I try to have the students do some kind of academic exercise for the first half of the class, then the second half, I have the students work on a word search puzzle. The first class was a 5th grade class, and relatively speaking, they were okay. Since it was first period, the students came directly to the classroom. The second 5th grade class is when the problems (and the usually aggravation came). The teacher brought her class to the room with no pencil… Nothing! These kids were basically the same as the other students mentioned in previous e-mails. Since they had no pencil, they used that as an excuse to go wild. I was angry and annoyed being put in that situation. The class was so wild and out of control that I had to call security to come. However, the principal came instead. At first, I was happy to have the principal come to the classroom. Unfortunately, the students reacted as if she was nothing more than another teacher. The principal said that she would return with pencils for the students.

The next class was a 3rd grade class. And yes, they also arrived without pencils. However, the class was much smaller, and therefore much easier to manage.

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December 5, 2005

It has been a while sorry. Again, I was planning to do a day by day report, unfortunately, I let the days pile up. I also let the e-mails pile up.

Highlights from the past week:

11-28-05Monday I was substituting for a science teacher. The morning experience was given above. After lunch, I was given a 4th grade class for two periods, to say that that 4th grade class was wild would be an understatement. The assistant principal warned me that this class was “a bit difficult”. It took about 20 minutes (with the help of the reading teacher to get them calm and focused. After the reading teacher left the classroom, I was able to keep the class under control for about the next 45 minutes. I’d used the threat of asking the homeroom teacher to allow me to dismiss the class, meaning that I would be dismissing that class late. Then, about 20 minutes before the end of the double period was to end, the 4th grade class’ homeroom teacher arrived. I made a big show of letting the class know that I meant business. I walked over to the homeroom teacher and loudly asked her if she minded if I dismissed her class. She said no. The one thing I had to control the class, I had lost, right then and there. Then, the homeroom teacher announced that the class had to stop my lesson, because they had to pack up to leave. I was annoyed that I had lost the one ounce of power that I’d had. However, I was relived that she was taking her wild class… or so I thought.

It turned out, she was taking her class a few students at a time to get their things and then return to me until the end of the final period. Do I need to tell you what happens when a wild class is told that it is time to go home.

They go wild!!!

What little control I’d had was lost. And the situation was magnified by a homeroom teacher dismissing what I was doing as not important. I had wild kids following the homeroom teacher, wild kids in the hall, and wild kids in the classroom. I was suspose to be controlling them…I think. The homeroom teacher was no help at all. I understand what she’d wanted to do, but it was (in my opinion) a total disregard for me as a teacher, a colleague, or as a person. I felt as if I was just something to keep her kids occupied. With a class that wild, I understood that she wanted to minimize the wild behavior, by taking a small group at a time; however, she should have let me know the plan, so that we could have work together.

Calling out “table one” (and groups of kids not knowing if table one was her group of table ones, the table one group in the class at that moment, or just kids wanting any excuse to go wild), was (in my opinion) an opportunity to watch chaos rein, I felt like a dope with my back against the wall. I had had enough, I told the whole class to stand and follow the homeroom teacher. I then proceeded to clean the classroom.

11-29-05 Period 6, I had a 5th grade class. They were wild and out of control. Behavior usually reserved for the 6th grade. However, since this school had no 6th grade, this class was more than willing to pick up the mantel of chaos. Nothing I did or said had any impact. At the end, the homeroom teacher gave me the home phone numbers of the most disruptive students. Calling the homes of those students was a total waste of time.

One mother seemed annoyed that I was calling her.
Another mother seemed confused as to which son I was referring to.
A father seemed to not have cared less.

11-30-05 I had a return visit from the 4th grade class mentioned above. This time, I had the class right before lunch. I let them know that if they took my time, then I would take theirs. The behavior was much, much (relatively speaking), much better. I was so happy! I used the wildest student as an example. I made him eat is lunch last. I stayed in the lunch room to make sure that he ate his lunch last. He was defiant right to the end. But in the end, I won. The battle, not the war.

12-1-05 Another return visit from the same 4th grade class mention in the two previous entries. Again, I had them right before their lunch period. This time I was so cocky; I thought that I’d had the means of control. I went to the homeroom teacher to remind her to have the students bring pencils. And I offered to take her class to lunch. She needed no convincing to the benefits of having someone else take some of the control for her wild class. She also asked for a favor. At that moment, I knew the answer should have been no, but I wanted to be nice.

Instead of doing my lesson, the homeroom teacher wanted me to let her students bring their writing folders to continue with a writing project. I agreed. I asked for details about the project (and what I needed to do), she said the students all knew what they had to do.

In the substitute classroom, I quickly reminded the students about my rule – take from me and I take from you. Take my time, and I’ll take your lunch time.

In the beginning everything seemed to be working. But as the period went on the class became louder and louder. The writing project seemed to be everything but writing. They needed scissors; they needed glue; they needed tape. They did this. They did that. They talked, and they played. They seemed to be doing everything, but write.

By the time I’d realized that I was not in control, it was too late. Like sharks in the water, they smelled blood.

No matter what I did, or said. Nothing worked. They continued to get wild and out of control. To save time (I am typing this way past my bedtime), I’ll just jump ahead. I could not control the class, so I would not let anyone leave. I knew eventually someone would come. Eventually the principal came. I was shocked that her presence had little more effect than another teacher stepping into the room. I quickly pointed out the 4 good kids who did not deserve to be punished. The principal told me to take them down to lunch, while she stayed with the wild ones. No sooner was I in the lunch room, and turn around to return to the classroom, the principal had started sending down the other students because “they were quiet”. The punishment for the 3 or 4 wildest of the bunch, they had (or got to) eat lunch in the principal’s office.

Sorry, I have to end this. It is now very, very late. In a few hours I have to get up and return to this school to work. I did not want to procrastinate with my blog entries another day.

Finally, here in New York, we had our first snow fall of this year. There is supposed to be another heavy snow fall on Tuesday. I also wanted to write about a problem I’d had with a big internet mail order company, but it is late. I’ll write more at another time. Ja mata…

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November 22, 2005
Yesterday, I had a couple of job interviews for substitute teaching positions. The first school, I was really looking forward to visiting. At the moment, most of my teaching experiences have been in low income neighborhoods. I was excited when I received a request from a school downtown to come in for an interview. Remember, in a previous blog entry, I’d mentioned (I think) that I sent my resume (with Per Diem certificate) to about 75 elementary schools.

Well, the minute I stepped off of the train downtown, I had a feeling that the school was not going to be the kind of school that I would want to work at. And, once I walked through the door, my fears were confirmed. It turned out that the school with an elementary school moniker was really a high school. A high school for special education students! At that school, there were guards and a metal detector. I felt very uncomfortable. I arrived about 30 minutes early, and I sat in the office waiting for the assistant principal to come. While I sat, I watch various (aggressive) students coming and going. I kept thinking to myself, how could they possible believe that I would want to work at that school. However, I felt a little guilty about sending my resume to that high school, so I wanted to wait and speak to the assistant principal in person (rather than leaving a note).

After the special ed high school I decided to go to the DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles) to find out what happened to the renewed driver’s license that I’d applied from about a month ago. I thought that since I just had a question, I would be able to just walk in and ask. Of course, I was being woefully naïve. I ended up spending (about) more than an hour of waiting time. However, I liked their new (for me) waiting system. You take a number according to your problem (or situation), and wait for your number to be called. Before I went to Japan, (at the DMV) you were told what line to wait on, and you waited. I like the new system better. Once I was able to gauge the approximate speed that the numbers were being called, I was able to go out for lunch, and return (with time to spare).

For lunch, I went to the MacDonald nearby. While I was eating in the MacDonald, there was a loud group of guys discussing their “business”. One of the guys was discussing how he liked to smoke pot with his wife.

After the DMV, I had another interview at another school for a substitute teaching position. Now this interview I was not expecting much, so I was in no hurry to go. This school was only blocks away from the other schools that I’ve already had a less than exciting experience. Before I could go however, the assistant principal wanted me to call before I came; I assumed that he wanted to make sure that he would be available. I called from my cell phone. And would you believe he did not remember me, or the request that he made during the original phone call (setting up the interview day). After reminding him that it was his idea for me to call before I came; I arrived about 15 minutes later. While waiting for the assistant principal to come to the office; there was a pushing incident right in front of the main office. One of the students pushed another student into the classroom teacher. The security guard (carrying a gun on his belt) decided to deal with the situation by bringing in the participants into the school office. Oh, did I mention that was an elementary school? While all of that was going on, I was thinking to myself, “oh yea, I really want to teach here”.

So, what was the result of that “oh so important interview”!? After waiting for about 15 or 20 minutes, in the meeting (that lasted all of 3 or 4 minutes), the assistant principal asked for a copy of my resume and my Per Diem (substitute) certificate, once he had it, then he remembered that I sent my information to him by mail. He then very professional got up and took me to meet the payroll secretary. He shook my hand ending the meeting, and asked the payroll secretary to get all of my contact information. He did this giving her my resume with my contact information written on the top of my cover page, on the first page of my resume (in large letters), and written in small print on every other page of my resume.

Today, my teaching assignment was to return to a previous school where I was the substitute science teacher. Today I was given a 6th grade class. The kids were wild 10 minutes into the class. About 30 minutes into the day, a student threw a chair across the room. 3 hours into the day, the same student filled another student’s backpack with water (books and all). In a classroom with 25 students, only about 4 students were not loud, argumentative, disrespectful, nor overly-playful. Speaking to the assistant principal only helped a little bit, not much, but it did help a little bit. Unfortunately (in my opinion), since there were no real penalties for disruptive behavior, the disruptive behavior only continued. Near the end of the day, a group of students in the class decided to pick on another student by stomping on his things, and putting his winter coat into the classroom sink and leaving the water running over it. By the time I found the coat, the sink was filled with water and the coat. I sent for the other assistant principal. Her solution was to threaten to have the whole class suspended if someone did not “squeal” and/or confess. When no on would admit anything, she asked me to dismiss most of the students – leaving the usual disruptive students, who eventually confessed, but were only a couple from the group.

The next day, I was supposed to return to the school. Originally, I was asked to come for two days. The regular teacher had jury duty. The next morning, the head teacher called to say that I was not needed. Now, I did already know that the regular teacher would be returning, because she came to the classroom around 4:30, and she told me that she was dismissed from jury duty early. However, I believe that I might have complained a little too much about a lack of consequences for disruptive behavior to a couple of the teachers and to both of the assistant principals. The head teacher called me about 7:45 the next day to say that “the teacher may be returning, but he wasn’t sure. He also said that I should keep my morning open just in case, he calls me to let me know that the regular teacher would not be coming in. He apologized for the last minute cancellation and hung up the phone. I think the head teacher was just trying to not burn his bridges. I think on the one hand the administration did not want me back, but on the other hand (knowing how difficult) it is to get substitute teachers on short notice (especially in schools with a difficult student population) did not want me pissed off refusing to return. Actually, I was seriously debating with myself whether or not I would be returning to that school. I am stuck with the same idea. If I am not teaching, and if I can’t control the class, what good would I be doing returning? In the end, I decided that I would return. Well, that was before the phone call. Was I mad? Actually, I was relived. I was going to force myself to return, but I really didn’t want to return. So, what did I do? About 10 minutes, after the call from the head teacher. Another school called. The elementary school I went to on Monday for the interview.

The Phone call / The school
The principal called to see if I was available to substitute for a class that in her words “was a very difficult 5th grade class. Reluctantly, I agreed. When I arrived, the principal realized that the teacher she thought was going to be absent, was coming in for work. So, I became unneeded. I did volunteer to return home, but I was told that they would find something for me to do. Since the school now had an extra teacher in the building, the administration decided to use me to give make up preparation periods. Preparation periods are those times when another teacher teaches the class, so that the regular teacher can prepare or do other class work related activities.

The schedule that I received was a prep. period for myself; a couple of 6th grade classes, a meeting with the assistant principal (yes, the same one who wanted the interview), a 1st grade class, and 3rd grade class last period. Midway through my prep period, I received a schedule change; the meeting was cancelled and became my lunch period, my lunch period became a 6th grade lunch detention(!?!?). During the time I was supposed to have lunch I received a call to go to the office for… another schedule change. Now, the 1st grade class was changed to 2nd grade, and the last period 3rd grade was changed to a class with the “very difficult” 5th grade class. So, instead of eating lunch, I had to dig through the materials that I dragged with me to come up with lessons (and the materials) for the new classes. I was a little annoyed that the last class (before the holiday vacation) was the “very difficult” 5th grade class – a little annoyed, but not very surprised.

So how was the lunch detention? I arrived at the assigned classroom only to find the class was having a pizza party. The teacher explained that she used to do “lunch time detention”, but she resigned from the assignment. She thought that was why the administration was going to use her room. Anyway, she said that I could stay in the room for the 20 minute detention. My plan was to go get something to eat after the 20 minutes were up. Even though the teacher offered me pizza, I did not feel comfortable eating pizza while on duty, so I passed on the pizza. About 10 minutes later wild kids started showing up asking questions about the pizza. They turned out to be her students. I guess she only took the ones she thought deserved a pizza party. I don’t know where the other students were. Anyway, they were in and out of the classroom being disruptive.

Then about 5 minutes later, other 6th grade teachers came in complaining that the administration wanted all of the 6th grade students to have detention for something they did the previous day. The teachers complained about having to have their own students in their own classroom for detention. At this point the classroom I was waiting in for “lunchtime detention to start (or finish), was finished their pizza party…and the students started getting loud and wild. I could not believe that a class that wild actually deserved a pizza party. I was getting annoyed at the situation I was in the middle of, but did not know what I should have been doing. With about 5 minutes left of my 20 minute detention, and the other 6th grade teachers having some kind of “heated” discussion in the hallway, and the classroom getting increasingly wild, the classroom teacher grabs her coat, tells the students to start cleaning up, and she walks out the room. I run after her telling her I was only supposed to say for 20 minutes; I also wanted to know where she was going. She told me to me to just watch her class because every 6th grade teacher has a prep teacher in their classroom to watch the students for detention, and that I needed to stay until she returned.

Once she left, her class went off the wall. The students started acting like they were having a party, playing games, playing rap music on the classroom mini portable stereo. They ignored and argued with me. When they refused to turn off the radio, I unplugged it. They group by the radio promptly plugged it back in and turned it on very loud, laughing, dancing, and singing along to the rap music blasting out of the stereo. The rest of the class was enjoying seeing the substitute powerless, and unable to control them. I was tired, hungry, and angry that I basically gave up. I only focused on keeping the wild ones contained, so I allowed no one to leave. I felt like a security guard at a prison. At times, I couldn’t decide if I was the security guard…or the prisoner! I felt trapped!
When the teacher returned, she seemed less than interested in hearing about the disruptive and disrespectful behavior of her students. I quickly noticed that without the “pizza prize”, the students were barely listening to her. I think only the fact that she controlled their grades, gave her only slightly more attention and respect than what I’d received.

What about the last class? Nothing you have not already read in previous entries, so no sense in repeating it again. Three o’ clock came, and everyone (not doing after school) was eager to leave to start their 4 day holiday vacation. Me, I was so exhausted, that I did not have the strength to leave until about 4pm. When I returned home, my plan was to lay down for a couple of minutes, then go food shopping for a few items I needed to help my foster father’s lady friend with the Thanksgiving dinner. I volunteered to make the rice, the macaroni salad, and a couple of pies. I laid down and promptly fell asleep. Later, I was told that I was snoring up a storm. I guess I was more tired than I thought. When I woke up, I was not in a mood for cooking, or cleaning, or for the other nonsense that goes on around this apartment. I decided to go for “take out” Chinese food.

Thanksgiving Day
Not much to write about. I decided to go to the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. I took a few photos with me digital camera. Sorry, I still have not put up the other photos. I will try to put up all the photos ( the old and the new) this holiday weekend.

Happy Holiday!

November 15, 2005
Just a short entry. I just finish making some lesson materials for tomorrow’s lesson. I thought that since I was on the computer, I should write a quick entry.

Originally, I was told to come every day this week, but the payroll secretary made a mistake. Yesterday was Parent / Teacher conferences, so no substitute teachers are used for half days. Therefore, I returned home and wrote the previous very long blog entry (while watching TV). Then, I went the Staples copy-center to photocopy some pages out of various workbooks. Just like in Japan, where I was assigned to travel from school to school; I am doing the same thing now. I am making a kind of emergency teaching kit (containing several lessons for various grades and abilities. As a sub. teacher, I have no idea where I will be going, nor do I know what grade (K to 6) I’ll be asked to teach. When I am prepared with something, I can handle the classes a little bit better, than if I walk in with nothing. After making my copies (about an hour), I went to an internet café to upload the previous blog. I also started uploading a few photos (6) onto my other web site. I was planning to upload more photos, but the internet café was full – no computers were available.

Today, I was a substitute teacher for another teacher who was in the building; however, she was substituting for another teacher who was absent. Today I was stopped in the hall and asked about my sub. assignment. I explained to the woman not realizing (until a student told me later) that I was talking to the teacher I was substituting for, that was when I realized that the teacher I was subbing for was not the one with the broken ankle.

My schedule (today) was the same as the previous days; also, I had the exact same classes, so I had to come up with some lesson plans, or else the students would be wilder than usual.

Highlights:

I had a couple of pre-k classes. The pre-k kids are nice (relatively speaking), but I am not a pre-k teacher. I don’t really like working with the very little kids; they are too needy. The first pre-k class teacher was a little reluctant to leave the room, but once she saw my classroom management was okay, she was comfortable with leaving the room. Today, she was even more comfortable with leaving an assignment for me to do. I was suppose to collect the drawings of each student and ask each student what he (or she) drew, then I had to write what each child told me into a notebook. Unfortunately, as soon as the teacher left, the little ones started coming up to me at the same time each talking at the same time. I just gave up. I was also a little annoyed that the assistant teacher said she was going to the bathroom, but ended up staying out for most of the period.

The second pre-k class teacher seemed more willing to leave me alone with her class; she left me alone on the first day. The assistant teacher also took this time as her lunch period, so again I was alone with the little ones. Last Friday, the assistant teacher told me that a parent volunteer would come in and help me. The volunteer came in looked around, and left. Today, I was alone with the kids, but the assistant teacher took the most disruptive kid with her, so the class was actually very nice…relatively speaking!

The second grade class was a bit disruptive, but relatively speaking they were a nice bunch.

From the second grade I went to the other pre-k class. From the pre-k class on the first floor, I had a sixth grade class on the third floor, at the opposite end of the building. Which brings me to the bell schedule; there are no bells between classes, and no travel time between periods, and a couple of the teachers return to the class late, which makes me late for the next class.

The Kindergarten class was nice…again relatively speaking. Although I don’t like teaching the little kids, I would have to say that the kindergarten class today was the best of the classes that I had today.

What about the sixth grade class. I’ll keep this short by saying, “similar to junior high school public schools in Japan; the students were aggressive, arrogant, immature and many seemed to not care less about learning anything.

For lunch, I drank a Nutrament health shake. I miss the healthy choices in Japan. I think I am going to try to make onigiri (rice balls). Of all the foods, I think I miss the onigiri the most. A healthy meal in a ball. Whenever I was hungry, I would eat a couple of onigiri, and drink a bottle of green tea. Now, here in New York, the shelves are overflowing with junk food.

Well, it is getting late, so I better stop now. I still have to shower and iron my clothes for tomorrow. Ja mata…

END ========================================================

November 17, 2005
This week I’ve been substituting at the same school. I thought this school was much better than the other two, but yesterday proved that it isn’t much better than the other schools.

Yesterday, most of the day went okay, with the exception of the 6th grade class that I had. One boy in the class, decided to just walk out of the class. Then another student (a girl) decided to follow. When they returned, they were loud and disruptive. The boy would not stop banging on the desk. The girl wandered the room causing other students to be disruptive. One, for walking out of the room without permission, two for not doing the work (that I had assigned), and three for being disruptive; I decided that the disruptive students would eat lunch last. I stayed in the lunch room to make sure that the students ate last. The students did not like that so they argued with me and were incredibly disrespectful; one girl was more disrespectful than the other two students. Curious about what a 6th grade students might say to the teacher in a lunch room filled with kids, school aids, and parent volunteers?

“Get out of my face.”
“You’re ugly. I can’t stand looking at your face.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.”
“Who do you think you are?”
This is just a sample coming from a 11 (or 12) year old girl. I was determined to not back down. And in the end, the two girls did eat last. The boy decided that since I was keeping him from eating when he wanted to, he was not going to eat at all. I ended up giving up my lunch period, but I thought that it was necessary. As a general rule, classes don’t usually treat the substitute with respect, but the level of disrespect was a surprise to me. For me, it was important to not have the students believing that they control the classroom.

So what was the result? Today, I had a very good day in the 6th grade class…relatively speaking! I just reminded the class that they could either have me for 45 minutes, or they could have me again in the lunch room. Sending the message that I mean business helped me win the battle, but not the war. I don’t believe for a minute that the class will be well behaved from now on. The only thing I accomplished was increasing my level of respect in the eyes on the students in that class.

Today was a long day, but a relatively nice day. Since I was in a relatively good mood, I accepted an after-school substitute assignment. I was tired, but I said okay. After the assignment, I went to Staples office supply store to make some copies for tomorrow. Today the only photocopy machine at the school was out of order.

Well, I’ll end this entry now. Ja mata…

Highlights and updates. Yes, it has been a long time since my last entry. First, I have returned to “teaching” in NY public schools. It took me a few days to readjust to “teaching" in public schools here in New York. Also, I started falling behind with my entries, but not wanting to leave anything out, I have been compiling a notebook of each entry that I would write about in the future. However, the more notes that I wrote, the more I procrastinated about writing. I could continue with the excuses, but instead I will just go right into the highlights from the past couple of weeks.

Highlights:

October 21st
After trying (unsuccessfully) several times to get a live person on the phone (from the Board of Education) to help me with my application process, I decided to go down in person. First, a little background information.

When I returned to New York I thought that I would have no problem getting back into the system, unfortunately, I was incorrect. While I was away in Japan, my (provisional) teaching license expired. I was told that it would take about 4 months to complete the application process (not including the new test and the workshop on school violence that I would have to take). I was told that I could apply for a substitute teaching certificate (which would allow me to start working much sooner).

On September 12, 2005 I delivered my application for a substitute teaching certificate at the BOE headquarters. I was told that it would take about 10 to 20 days to be processed. After 20 business days passed, I returned to the HQ to find out what happened. I had not received any notice or certificate. I went to the 4th floor, which was where I submitted my application. I was told that the certificate was mailed on the 16th of September (and that I was approved on the 16th of September). The secretary suggested that I go to the 8th floor (records dept.) ask to look in my file, make a photocopy of the certificate, and use that copy until the BOE sends me another one. Without some kind of certificate, I can’t set foot inside a school. In the record room, I looked in my file to find that a copy was not in it. I was told that I should wait another week, and maybe it would be placed into my file. I mentioned that I could not wait, so it was suggested that I go to the 3rd floor (sorry, as I am typing this, I forgot what dept. was on the 3rd floor). On the 3rd floor, I was told that there was nothing there for me, but that I should go to the 8th floor. And on the 8th floor, I received the same information. Basically, I was getting the runaround. Finally (after pleading poverty), I was told to go around the corner and ask to speak to Mary. Around the corner, I asked to speak to Mary, but I was told that there were 3 Marys. However, the secretary there was helpful enough to give me a printout of her screen that showed I did have approval to do substitute teaching. With that photocopy, I was able to return to my old school for sub. teaching assignments. Since I was in a good mood, I decided to walk to the Brooklyn Bridge (from the BOE HQ), but I ended up walking to Canal Street (about an hour walk). About a week later, I returned to the BOE (for a BOE photo ID), this time, I walked home from the BOE HQ in Brooklyn. The walk took about 4 hours. I did take some photos; I hope to have the photos up on my other web site (hopefully, some time next week).

October 22nd
I received an application letter stating that I was approved for substitute teaching and that I would receive my certificate and BOE photo ID application in a few days. I suspect that I only received the notice because I went downtown to the HQ. I bought a cheap prepaid cell phone (with calling card).

The process for substitute teaching is that I would have to go to each school (that I wanted to substitute teach at), and the school would call me if they needed a substitute teacher. With the cell phone, I wanted the schools to not call for me on my foster father’s house phone; they could reach me directly through the cell phone. I still don’t like cell phones, but in this case, a cell phone is a necessity.

October 25th
My first day substitute teaching at my old school, I was assigned to cover the Math Cluster (prep) teacher. My classes for the day were 2 pre-K classes and 3 third grade classes. The pre-K classes (before kindergarten) were nice, I was basically just assisting the assistant teacher. The 3rd grades were another story. The first two were basically how I remembered teaching in public school was before I left. Each class became progressively worst. The last class, at the last period was the worst. I could barely control the class.

Since this is just the highlights I have to leave out details, including the comparisons between the public schools here and in Japan. I know there are a couple of my pen pals (teachers from Japan) who were looking forward to reading details about my teaching experiences here in New York. However, in order to get back on track with this blog, I have to skip the details for the moment. Sorry.

October 26th
Today I was assigned to takeover another 3rd grade class, from a teacher who was in the building but she was busy doing some kind of head teacher program. There were also visitors watching a part of her reading lesson. During the morning, I was so impressed with the teacher’s style and control of her class. The students were so well behaved that I couldn’t wait to take over the class. And then, I got my wish…

In English, there is an expression, “be very careful what you wish for, because your wish just might come true”.

As soon as the teacher left the room (about 5 or 10 minutes) the class went wild. They argued with each other, threw things across the room, and would not stay in their seats. I was shocked, confused, and angry. I did not understand what had happened. It was like I was stepping in front of a classroom for the first time. Nothing…Nothing I did or said had any impact. The class was wild and out of control from the moment I stepped in front of the room, until their teacher returned at 3pm the end of the day. I wanted to keep them in after school, but the teacher needed the room for after-school tutoring. She (the teacher) suggested that I go to the principal to ask if it was okay to keep the students in after school in another room. Knowing full well, what the answer would have been, I did not bother. Again, I used to teach at that school, and after 3 years, I had had enough. At that school, the principal does not allow teachers to keep students after school (unless a request is made in advance [and I think with parent’s approval]). The kids know that they can’t be kept after school (and they act accordingly).

By the end of the day, I was so disgusted (and angry) that I was planning to not set foot in that school again. The principal (and the assist principal) both spent about an hour trying to convince me that I should not take the students behavior personal. Although they (both) made very good arguments, I was still stuck on my one point. I could not control the class. From my point of view (never mind not being able to teach anything), if I could not control the class I was useless. I really, really did not want to be put in that situation again.

After about an hour, I agreed that I would return to the school (the principal said that he would give me an easier assignment). I’d agreed to return to school, because I was planning to return anyway but for a different reason. The class was so out of control, the only threat I had was to take away their recess time. My plan was to come to the school just to take away the class’ recess time, and then I would leave the school to go to the BOE for my photo ID. It would mean losing a day’s salary, but I did not care. When the principal heard my plan, that is when he suggested that I shouldn’t give up a day’s pay over one class, he said that I should return the next day, and he would give me an easier assignment; he also said that we should talk more at the end of the day. Rather than argue, I agreed.

October 27th
I arrived at school around 10:30 (twenty minutes before 3rd graders went to lunch). The class was out of the room (out of class prep [music or science]. When they returned, I explained why I was there. I told them that if I had to lose a day’s pay to deal with them, then I would. I think my presence really shook the class. I really don’t think they expected me to have kept my word. Remember, I used to teach at this school. 1. you have to mean what you say. 2. you have to put things in a way that the kids understand. Returning to the school (just to do a lunch time detention), even though I did not have to, got their attention. The class was 100% (uh….85% better behaved). I told the class that if they acted up during the lunch period (or did not listen to me), then I would stay to dismiss the class, and return again tomorrow to do it all over again. Since they did not want me there again, for the most part, the class listened to me. Unfortunately, I over-stayed my visit.

After lunch they got a little bit restless, and decided to test me. Each time I was about to leave a student (or students) would say or do something (like clapping). And each time, I added more time for each disruption. And the longer I stayed, the wilder the class became. At one point (in the room), there were 3 adults (myself, the substitute teacher [usually he is the writing Cluster teacher], and the social studies prep teacher), but the class was just as wild. Finally, I changed tactics. I singled out individual students as the reason why I did not leave, and finally, the class was quiet enough for me to leave. They went wild as soon as I left the room; one student even followed me down the stairs to make sure I was really leaving.

I did not win the war, but I won the battle. I kept my word, and I let them know I am the teacher, and I am the one in charge...relatively speaking.

A couple of teachers in the building mentioned that my time in Japan probably softened me, so that is why I probably had difficulty adjusting. I didn’t want to believe what they were saying (especially considering the some of the nonsense that I went through while I was teaching in Japanese public schools, however, I think they might be correct. Anyway, I felt really good about myself.

Oh by the way, if you are interested (or curious) about what the easier assignment was -- it was teaching in pre-k. So the next day after the lunch detention, I had a pre-k for the day. The pre-k experience is also an entry in itself, but again, if I go back and try to write from the notes that I'd written, then I would continue procrastinating with this blog. I'll have to pass on writing about my pre-k experience. It wasn't a bad experience, but just interesting in terms of kids, and the changing education experience. After the pre-k experience, I was given the 4th grade TAG (Talented And Gifted) class. I'll just sum up my TAG experience with, "you don't want to know what passes as a talented class. Basically, they were TAG in name only. They were closer to the 3rd grade class I mentioned above. However, relatively speaking, the TAG class was a good class...Relatively speaking!!

After the lunch time detention, I went to the BOE to submit my direct deposit application. With the substitute teaching circuit I’m on, if I did not get direct deposit for my salary, then every payday (twice a month), I would have to go to every school I taught at for that month to pick up my salary. Oh by the way, to ensure that I had enough schools calling me for substitute teaching assignments, I sent my resume (with cover letter) and a copy of my per diem (substitute) teacher’s certificate to about 75 schools. Although the policy is to deliver my certificate to each school in person, I really didn’t want to waste a day traveling from school to school introducing myself. I though that I could just e-mail the information, but NYC public schools seemed to be even more behind the times then I imagined Tokyo public schools to be. After searching the internet for about an hour, I could not find a single e-mail address. Since my own computer skills are so low, it is possible that I overlooked something, but I doubt it.

Anyway, I made 75 copies of my resume and certificate, and used Microsoft word label maker to make the labels and sent my information by snail mail(post). At the time of this writing, I’d taught in about 3 different schools. 2 schools seemed (in their own way) to be identical, the third seems to be much nicer (relatively speaking). At first, I was eager to get my own classroom in any school, but now I’m not. Here in New York, you don’t have much choice when it comes to choosing what school you are assigned to. It is the same as business, it is not what you know, it is who you know. In this case, knowing the principal will put you in a good school.

Well, I think I will stop about now. There were other similar situations in other schools, but again, I think you have the general idea. Also, I consider this blog, a catch up entry. Starting now, I can submit current entries. I hope.

Now, that I’ve caught up with my blog entries, I can now catch up with my e-mails. Until next time…

END ========================================================

October 23, 2005 (Post date) October 16, 2005 (Blog date)

Today my wake up call (about 6 in the morning) was an argument between my foster father and his forty-something year old son. What started the fight? My foster father asked his son to use the hallway door to go to the bathroom. Background?!!? The forty-something year old has been sleeping in the living room. The living room has two doors one leads to the kitchen, and the other leads to the hallway. My foster father told his son that if he has to go to the bathroom, he should use the hallway door, especially while there are people sitting at the table eating. This time both were in a very bad mood. It was almost as if they wanted to pick up right where the last fight left off. This time the son was in no mood for me to be peace maker. I believe he realized that his…. “logic” doesn’t work on anyone but his father. He quickly (and angrily) told me not to interfere when he is talking to his father. Neither one was talking, just shouting. The shouting continued until the threats started. Once I realized that a fight would most likely be imminent, I positioned myself between the two. The son seemed to feel that he was entitled to ask the question (over and over again). Does the door rule only apply to him? The son also changed the focus of the argument to not being allowed to wear pajamas in the kitchen.

Like father like son, when the argument isn’t going your way, change the argument.

When I tried talking to the son, the father would shout over me, and when tried talking to the father…oh, you know.

Basically, I was in the same situation I was in when I broke up fights in my elementary school classroom. I stood in the middle and tried to reason with the participates. Exactly what the teacher’s union recommends that the teacher not do.

Well anyway, the argument continued, and it escalated. It seemed like the son was determined to win the argument at any costs. And it seemed like the father felt like the son was “trying to take over the house”.

Here, I’ll leave out a few details.

As the father began looking for his metal pipe, I focused my reasoning skills (as poor as they are) on the son. The son went on and on about how he does not… will not be disrespected by anyone. He went on about how he has a right to speak and no one can and will tell he what he can and can’t do.

To make a long story short (leaving out a few more details), I managed to prevent history from repeating itself. Apparently, they had a very similar fight while I was in Japan. Sorry, since I was not involved with that fight, I am not going to go into details.

Anyway, I managed to stop the argument. The participates went to their corners. The father worked on his…uh…lottery numbers in his bedroom, and the son ate his oatmeal in the kitchen.

A few minutes later, the son asked to speak to me. He came into my room to lecture me about disrespect. He wasn’t so much angry as he was trying to persuade me to see things his way. He mentioned that I was being disrespectful for interrupting their “conversation”, and I was being disrespectful for not saying “excuse me” before interrupting. When he found that I would not see things his way, he said that he had a headache and didn’t want to hear what I had to say. He walked out of the room, I started to follow him into his room (living room), but he closed the door in my face. Rather than get into a fight (or another argument) I just continued talking through the door. He whined about how he had a headache and he needed to sleep.

A few minutes later, the father asked me to call the older son.

The older son said that he would be over in a few minutes. I expected another loud argument. I expected a continuation. But, what was the encounter like?

↓
↓
↓

The older son (he is in his mid 50s) arrived, he said “pack your shit, you are going back to your sister’s house” (yes, the one with the big house). That’s it! No argument. No fight. Nothing. The (former) tough-talking (disabled) ex-marine had nothing to say. It took him about 45 minutes to pack one duffle bag. Later (when he is about to leave), he was whistling like nothing happened.

After the 40-something year old son was driven up to his sister’s house, my foster father spent the rest of the day (actually a couple of days) saying, “we got rid of him”. That was very annoying! It wasn’t him, and it wasn’t me. Neither one of us was the one that reined in the wayward son. It was the older brother. After the 40-something was kicked out, I then had to listen to my foster father shouting at his grandson about how he also “better watch out”, or he (my foster father) would kick his grandson out the same way he kicked out his 40-something son.



I was angry and annoyed, so I did what I usually do. I went for a walk. From my home I walked to 125th street and Broadway. I walked down Broadway until 72nd street. There used to be a public toilet near the 72nd street subway station, but unfortunately, it was no longer there. Since I had to go to the bathroom, I decided to return home. I walked across 72nd street to 8th avenue. While walking down 8th avenue I walked past the New York Museum. The NY Museum had a special exhibition about slavery in New York. It is not a topic I am interested in, but it is educational. I told myself several times that I would go, but I kept procrastinating, so I decided to go, even though I was tired, and had to go to the bathroom.

I was amazed that the exhibition was so crowded; I was also surprised that there seemed to me to be more European-Americans than African-Americans there. I thought the exhibition was very interesting, I even forgot (a little) that I had to go to the bathroom). The only down side (if any) was that a lot of the crowd moved like snails, or would stand in front of exhibitions having personal conversation, even though there were lines to see almost all of the different displays. At the exhibition, there was a handwritten draft of the Emancipation Proclamation. After visiting the Slavery exhibition, I still had about 30 minutes before the museum closed, so I went to see some other exhibitions. I was able to take a few photos.

About the photos. Sorry for the delay with posting photos on my other web site. I have about 5 sets that need to be posted.

I will (try to) visit the internet café next weekend to upload the photos. I narrowed the photos to about 64 pictures in total. Although I do have a free internet connection, it is limited (only 20 hours per month at dial-up speed). Once I get my own apartment, I’ll get one of those high-speed DSL connections.

Well, I think that is about it… Until next time….

October 19, 2005
I’m back. Sorry, it has been a while. The situation that I started to write about continued to escalate, plus I did a couple of walking trips around the city, plus my lack of employment, plus the new TV (bought to fight the boredom), have all contributed to a lack of diligence on my part with writing entries for this blog. Sorry! Since I have a bit of a logjam with my entries, I think that it is best to write in the present tense.

October 15th A continuation….

This morning, my foster father’s 40 something year old son wanted to confirm that he was going to be driven up to his sister’s home. At 5:30 in the morning, that was not a good time to ask. Since the son kept pestering the father, the father finally said no. The “no” put the son in a bad mood. He started making unnecessary noises in the kitchen. Yes, I did say that his age was forty something. First, he started banging the sink drainer in the trashcan to get the food out. Then he started scrambling eggs (for French toast) in a glass bowl. The son kept making noise while arguing that a man keeps his word, and broken promises. Normally I don’t get involved in the petty arguments, but this one seemed to be escalating. I came out of my room and mentioned that there was a plastic bowl in the cabinet that would not make as much noise as a metal fork and a glass bowl. At first the arguing stopped, but then they started again. So the next time, I just sat at the kitchen table hoping that my presence would diffuse the tension. And I was correct. And it only cost me 2 hours of listening to the son ramble on about this and that. The son was basically trying to find an argument that that would show that he was right and his father was wrong. Unfortunately, whenever I pointed out a flaw in his argument (and occasionally in his logic) he would just change the topic, but the underlining theme was that he was right and his father was wrong.

After playing referee for the morning, I’d planned to go to the Staples (office supply) store to buy a bookcase, but things don’t always go according to plan. Today was the last day of the sale. Lucky for me (or so I thought) that there was a Staples store on 125th street. About a 10 block walk from my home. Arriving at the store, I asked the clerk where the bookcases on sale were. The clerk said that the 125th street branch did not have furniture, and he recommended that I go to the branch on 81st and Broadway, I though that was very nice. Since the weather was beautiful (after having almost 3 straight days of rain), I decided to go.

When I got out of the train station, I noticed an electronic store across the street. I decided (just for the heck of it) to check the prices of the TVs. I was planning to go to the mall in Jersey City to buy a TV from Sears. In the electronic store the TV prices were good, so I decided to buy a TV and a DVD player. The TV was $113.00 (including tax). I asked the price for delivery………It was $50.0!!! I decided to take the TV myself. I felt a little bit uncomfortable taking a 20 inch TV on the train. However, I arrived home safe.

After returning home, I realized that I would need a cable connector (a metal bit used to connect the cable cord to the TV). I don’t know why, but the Staples store was the first store that popped into my head. So I walked back to Staples. On the way, would you believe that a small group of boys were practicing throwing a football across 6 lanes of traffic (Lenox Avenue). At Staples, in the electronics section, I asked for a cable connector, the clerk said that the 125th Staples “sucked because it did not have anything” (his words not mine). On my way out the store, one of the other clerks noticed something on the shelf under the counter near the cash register. Instead of being professional and dealing with the object, she’s laughing loudly and has to call other clerks over to see. What was it? It was a used (??) condom tossed on the shelf.

The helpful clerk (not the laughing lady) from Staples recommended Radio Shack. So I walked to Radio Shack. In Radio Shack, the sales staff were not helpful. One clerk was being taught the name and location of something by a customer. The clerk at the cash register kept me waiting while he moved slower than molasses talking (in Spanish) to someone who did not seem to be a customer, and the topic did not seem to be related to anything in the store. However, since I don’t speak Spanish, I can’t be sure what the conversation was about.

Well, I left out a few details, but I think you get the picture. It is late. Until next time…

I forgot the title for this entry. I have not written an entry for a few days. Part of the reason was that it has been raining here in New York like there was no tomorrow. I have not done anything worth writing about. I don’t think I remember it ever raining consistently for 3 days straight. Today there is finally a break in the raining. Unfortunately, there is a chance of rain later today.

The other reason for the gap was that my blog entries were a bit too negative, and were straying off the topic…me. I realize that if the situation does not really involve me, then I should not be writing about other people. So, for the past few days, I have not written about the arguments, the shouting, the lies, problems etc…since none of them involved me. Only the head-splitting headaches they give me. This morning however, I got involved. So, I guess I can do a little bit of wr….complaining. Who am I kidding, this blog is an exercise in venting. It is all about…almost all about complaining. And now on with the show.

This morning around 5:30 I was awaken by a conversation, or a broken stove door creaking open. I don’t remember. Anyway, I went back to bed, and only minutes later an argument started between my foster father and his son. Son?!?! Oh, the son who wanted to stay a couple of weeks ago, but had to be convinced that there was no space for him. You still don’t remember. Okay, the son (I mentioned in a previous blog) who arrived at 4 in the morning banging on the door. Well, he got his way. He has been living here for the past several days. Since the arguments and conflicts had not involved me, I did not write about them. Anyway, the argument this morning….


Sorry, the bathroom is finally free, so to be continued….

October 8, 2005

Today it is a very rainy day here in New York. Earlier today, I walked to the store to buy a newspaper (around 1pm – yes, in the afternoon). On my way back home, I was about to enter the code to open the main door into the building when two police officers ran up to me and told me to drop everything (in this case my umbrella and the newspaper than I’d just bought), turn around and put my hands up. While one of the police officers patted me down (asking if I was carrying anything that I should not be), the other officer had his hand on his gun. After being frisked, one of the officers explained that I matched the description of someone who just robbed someone on the 2nd floor of my building. Yes, I was entering the building (not exiting), but let me not quibble on minor details. A few minutes later the officer explained that the person they were looking for had a gun. Although, the officer just finished patting me down (no gun), and was holding my driver’s license, I was asked to stand at the door of my home like I was a common criminal. They were waiting for conformation that it was okay to let me go. Later, the confirmation came, The second officer returned to tell the other officer that they needed to look for a guy in a car (I forgot the name of the car).

I did not realize that there were many (or any) overweight, balding, half blind, goofy looking, geeky African American criminals walking into the scene of a crime….now I do….and so do my neighbors.

I supposed that after all of this “misunderstanding” was cleared up, I should have mentioned the drug dealer on the first floor (my father seems to always be complaining about) and the strangers that come and go like that apartment was the local Kmart. And would it have been proper to complain to the officers about those same strangers who use the elevator like a bathroom (urine on an almost weekly basis, and the occasional feces deposit [2x]). Well, what does a stupid looking criminal know.

October 6, 2005

I walked to an internet café on 125th street to download a copy of my credit report from the big 3 credit reporting agencies. Here in New York, a new law was passed allowing residents one free copy of their credit report each year. But, you have to request the reports. After downloading my credit reports, I went to a sandwich shop for lunch. Not the best lunch. The guy behind the counter cut up so many onions that my eyes and his were tearing up. After lunch, since the weather was so nice, I decided to walk around the perimeter of Central Park. From 125th street, I walked to 110th street and 8th avenue (the Northwest corner of Central Park). From 110th street, I walked along 8th avenue to 59th street (the southwest corner). I walked along 59th street to 5th avenue (the southeast corner). From there, I walked down 5th avenue to 110th street (the northeast corner of Central Park). And finally, I walked to the public bathroom at the Discovery Center in Central Park (about midway between 5th avenue and 8th avenue. The only bathroom during this walking trip. Here in New York, public bathrooms are extremely rare. I walked home from there. In total, I walked about 3 hours (including the stops for taking photos along the way). Since I don’t know how to upload (or the blog site won’t allow) multiple photos on this blog, I will put the photos on my other web site. The photos are mostly of the statures around the perimeter of Central Park. The photos should be up in a few days.

October 2, 2005 Another blog entry. About midday, I decided to go for a walk. I was bored, not angry. Luckily, everyone seemed the forget t he arguing this morning. About the walk. At first, I was a little tired from the Friday walk around Central Park Reservoir, so I decided to take the bus downtown and then walk back. As I was riding the city bus, I was enjoying the great weather that I did not want to get off of the bus. However, I realized that if I did not get off of the bus, I would have a very long way to walk. I rode the bus down 5th avenue and got off at 74th street and 5th avenue – the east side of Central Park. I though that I would be tired, but the weather was so great, that I really enjoyed the walk. I started at 74th street on the east side. I walked through Central Park to the west side, and I walked down 7th avenue. At 125th street, I found a internet café. I stayed at the internet café for 30 minutes, did some window shopping (I bought 2 long-sleeved shirts), and then I returned home. I hadn’t eaten lunch, so I was very hungry. Lucky for me, my foster father’s lady friend cooked dinner, so I was able to eat without cooking. Also, my foster father wants his grandson to share some of the responsibilities, so Fridays thru Mondays, his grandson has to wash the dishes. After I ate, I washed my own dishes, as a dishwasher, I know what it feels like when others leave their dirty dishes for me to wash, so I am not going to do it to someone else. After washing my dish, I noticed that we were out of butter, so I walked to the store to buy some butter. I was surprised; I was not tired from walking. Strange, I seem (I hope) to be going back to my old self. The last few months in Japan, it was becoming increasingly difficult for me to walk long distances. The way I felt today, I think that I could have easily walked from 42nd street to 135th street.

The day started lousy, but it turned into a very nice day!

October 2, 2005 Today started with my usual wake up call. My foster father received a call from his eldest son. My foster father seemed a little upset at the early call. Next he goes to his grandson, to wake him up telling him that he has to go downstairs to get the paper that the elder son would give him. A little background information. The grandson was supposed to complete a job application last week, but he forgot something, so he was not able to complete the job application. Also, the grandson is also supposed to be going to some kind of boot camp school, and the paperwork needs to be completed. Whichever paper it was (I wasn’t sure), each one has a story (that I won’t go into), and each one is important. I wasn’t going to get involved. However, as the yelling continued, I became angry (and got involved). My foster father went on to say that his grandson needed to learn responsibility (and that he shouldn’t be sleeping all day [it was about 7:30 in the morning]). After about 10 to 12 minutes, of demanding that his grandson move faster and stop wasting time (because the elder son was very busy and should not be kept waiting, the grandson finally went downstairs. I went to my foster father and said that he was wrong and that the elder son should have brought up the application himself. However, my foster father said that I did not know the whole story, and I should not interfere. My foster father and I were arguing, and then….my foster father and his lady friend were arguing. I returned to my room and sat angry for about 5 minutes. The grandson still had not returned after about 5 minutes, so I decided to go downstairs in my pajamas and bathrobe to talk to the elder son. After I returned, everyone seemed to agree that this incident should not have happened, and I was assured that it would not happen again. Only time will tell….
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Oh, and what about the application that started this mess. It appears that I was mistaken. The paper had nothing to do with the job application, nor with the “boot camp” school. The paper was….the Sunday newspaper!

Another blog entry for today. Before I briefly recount my day, let me explain the photo on the left. Do you recognize the object in the photo? If you’ve read the previous blog about my adventure at Ground Zero, then you know what the object is. It is one of the Path train’s turnstiles. This time, I didn’t go to Jersey City through the World Trade Center site. This photo was taken at the Jersey City station next to the mall. Also here, there was no station attendant. However, I am very happy to report that this time the trip went much, much smoother.

Before I describe today’s boring events, let me describe the photo/turnstile. This is one of the single ride machines. If you are planning to only buy a one way ticket, then you would use this ticket machine. It takes only cash and coins. As you can see from the photo, the machine does not take bills higher than a five-dollar bill. Remember the lady I mentioned (in the previous “zero” blog entry), who couldn’t get change for a $20 bill. Now, look on top of the turnstile. The white cap on top has a red light inside. After you pay your fare, the red light will flash once (only once), so if you are not looking, you will miss it. Under the white cap, you can see the small monitor screen. Before you pay, there is a dark green arrow. After you pay, the monitor beeps once, and then the dark green arrow turns light green. And finally, if you are using a metro and/or PATH card, then it is inserted into the front of the turnstile. The fare is automatically deducted from the card, and the card is released above the insert point. You have to insert your card, wait for the machine to release it, and check to amount remaining (on the small screen on the front of the turnstile [just above where the card is inserted]) before you can walk through the turnstile. When the turnstile is turns light green, you will have about 5 to 10 seconds to walk through the turnstile. No proof you paid, and no attendant to help if you have a problem. Well, I think I’ve written enough about the PATH turnstile. I hope I didn’t bore you too much.

Today started off with me typing up the previous blog entry. While I was typing my father and his lady friend returned from grocery shopping. They bought much more than I was expecting. For the past month, I was doing much of the shopping. Unfortunately, I wasn’t doing much of the eating. I thought it was nice that a lot of food was bought. Unfortunately, they brought a little too much junk food (pound cake, a 12 pack of glazed donuts, a family-size pack of cookies, a pack of bologna etc…).

Today, I returned to the Jersey City mall mentioned in the previous “zero” blog. This time the traveling was much, much smoother. At the mall, the first place I went was the food court (Panda Express). After lunch, I went to the movie at the mall to see “Corpse Bride”. I enjoyed the movie very much. There was a very “artsy” style to it. After the movie, I wandered around the mall for awhile. I brought a couple of slacks for when I am called (I hope) to start substitute teaching. After wandering for awhile, I ate dinner at Burger King. Strange how I can complain about the lack of health food, but I seem to be unable to resist the fast food. I really have to start exercising. I really want to buy a rowing machine. Well, that’s about it. Until next time…

I really didn’t want to get involved, but…I got involved. Now my best hope is to minimize the damage.

Just a quick entry (I hope) before I stop by the internet shop, then Jersey City.









Sorry, the above may (or may not be) directly related to me. But I wanted to get it off my chest. Nothing major (or personally), but since I just spent about an hour typing I really did not want to delete what I had just spent so much time writing. In a couple of days, I’ll delete it. Sorry for the confusion. Until next time......

Taking things one day at a time, I suppose is a better title than doing time.

I am still waiting for the Board of Education to call or contact me. Today was another day with nothing much to do. I just realized that I had my camera in my backpack today while I went out for a walk. I thought that I’d left it on my desk. So, needless to say, I did not take any photos today. I was just planning to walk around my neighborhood, but I ended up walking further than planned.

I started my walk walking to the internet shop. I checked my e-mail and sent out the URL to the photo page for those Pen pals who might have forgotten my old web site. Opps! I just realized that some did not receive the URL. Sorry! Since I returned to New York, I am missing some e-mail addresses. I gave away my old computer (with the e-mail addresses) still inside.

After briefly surfing the internet, I’d planned to walk around the nearby park (which is what I did yesterday). Not a very exciting plan is it? My starting point was 125th street and 5th avenue (I’d already walked 10 city blocks to reach the internet shop). From the internet shop, I walked down 5th avenue to 110th street (the Northern entrance to Central Park).

Since I hadn’t eaten lunch, I went to a local store. Another thing I missed about Japan, the convenient stores. In Japan, I could just walk into a convenient store and buy an onigiri (a rice ball packed with meat and wrapped in seaweed) and tea. A healthy meal when you don’t have time to fix a meal. I was hungry, but I wanted to try to eat something healthy. My first choice was a hamburger with fries and a soda meal set at a place called “Mama’s Chicken”. However, there was no “Mama”, just a short Spanish guy in a greasy apron who had difficulty understanding the customer on line saying “meal order #9”. There was a bit of a crowd, and all of the choices were one greasy sandwich combo with fries and a soda. Next door, there was a Bodega (the poor man’s convenient store). A Bodega is a small store usually owned and operated by a Hispanic person (or persons). In the Bodega, I was surprised to find fruit salads. However, 1. I wanted something solid that would fill my stomach, and 2. the salad containers looked old and dirty. I passed on the fruit salads. As I looked up and down the racks and racks of junk food (cheap cakes, cookies, chips etc…), I got a little annoyed that I could not find anything healthier than the dirty looking fruit salad. So being in a pouting mood, I bought a granola bar and orange juice, and kept thinking how much I wanted a rice ball.

At the entrance to the Northern part of Central Park, I was planned to walk around the duck pond (Harlem Meer) located at the North of Central Park, but since I did that yesterday, I decided to walk a little further. I ended up walking around the Central Park Reservoir, and then I walked back home to cook dinner. In total, I walked about 2 hours.

My plan was to walk; cook dinner then relaxes in the bath. However, things just don’t seem to go according to plan. After I’d finish cooking (spaghetti), my father told me to not wash the dishes. It seems his lady friend suggested that his grandson should help around the house. I’m thinking to myself….Oh, great!
Sorry, I just deleted about a page of explaining. I forgot that this blog is about my situations. I really shouldn’t be writing about other people, especially without their permission. However, if it directly relates to me, then I think writing about someone else is okay, as long as I don’t use that person’s name, or picture without their permission. But I really should think carefully about what constitutes “directly relates to me”. Sorry for the confusion.

To make a long story short, I am not living alone, so I have to share the facilities. This also means that the facilities may not be to my “different” standards.

Well, I think that is about it. Tomorrow, I plan to return to the mall in Jersey City. However this time, I will be taking a different route. Until next time…

I just finish attaching the photos to my old web site.

Missing the full picture…Or, not all there.

For some reason, the photos that I attached to the previous blog entry are not showing. Oh well, I am not the brightest person. In a few days, I will put the photos up on my other web site; yes the one that is in need of a major over-haul. Maybe I’ll attach just one photo (when I have photos to attach) to each blog entry.

It has been a few days since my last entry. There was not much for me to write about. However, I’ll try to do a recap. Mainly, I am still waiting for the Board of Education to call to let me start substitute teaching (at least until I can reapply for my State Teaching License). Unfortunately, I let my license expire. On to the time killing activities.

On Monday, I went food shopping. Strange, for someone without a job, I seemed to be spending money like I am the richest man in the world. I don’t know why, but I was in a little bit of a good mood, and spent more money than I should have spent. In total, I spent about $83.00 on food. A lot of what I bought was what I thought the other people in the household would like to eat.

Okay, you know what? It has been about 3 days, I have forgotten what I was planning to write, so I am not going to even try to pretend. I’ll just mention the points that I wanted to mention and move on from there.

Yesterday, or the day before…actually, it was Monday. My father decided to teach his grandson a lesson about showering, so he has been setting time limits. First it was 30 minutes, then 20, and today it was 15 minutes. I got angry with my father on Monday when he started shouting at his grandson to hurry up and finish in the shower. That shouting has been my wake up call (literally) for the last few days. Monday was the worst. Every 15 minutes or so, my father would shout at his grandson. I would wake up, then drift back to sleep only to have my father shout again. On Monday, I had had enough so I shouted to my father, “would you please stop shouting”. Wow, even when I’m angry, I can still be incredibly polite.

I was about to go into a tangent about the situation here, but I think I should stick to the situations that apply mainly to me. So, I’ll just briefly summarize…………….never mind. I just deleted the last part of this paragraph. How about I write about my day today.

Today, I treated myself to lunch at the soul food restaurant in my neighborhood. Strange (to say the least), I was told that this restaurant is owned by a Chinese company. Also, I was told that Silvia’s (a famous restaurant here in Harlem), is now also owned by a Chinese company. Back to my day.

After lunch, I rode the train downtown to the Brooklyn Bridge. I decided a couple of days ago (one of the things that I forgot to write about) that I would get out and try seeing some of the city that I’ve lived in for most of my life, but I haven’t seen too much of. And, since I have this blog, visiting places in and around the city would give me something to write about. Although I’ve been over the Brooklyn Bridge a few times, I decided to go again.(this time with a camera). My main reason for going downtown was to buy an external floppy drive. When I bought the second-hand computer I am now using, I did not think I would need a floppy. I have a couple of flash memory drives. Unfortunately, the library I go to has to kept up with the rest of the computing world. A the library, the computers will only let the user use a floppy disk to save, everything else is not accessible for the average library customer. And now that I have an external floppy drive, well, it doesn’t matter at the moment. Out of the 6 computers, 4 of them are out of order. And, the computer I was on today was moving so slow, I think it is only a matter of time before that one breaks.

Well, it is getting late. So, just a quick summary. I walked along the Brooklyn Bridge. Then later, I walked to Canal Street, I thought I could find a cheap second-hand floppy drive, but when I started wandering around Chinatown, I decided to walk back to the Brooklyn Bridge area (City Hall) and bought a new floppy drive. And since I could not buy one or two floppy disks, I bought a box of 10 floppy disks. Now, knowing my luck, the library will probably replace the old computers with computers that use flash drives.

After I returned home from the Brooklyn Bridge area, I cooked dinner (beans & rice, mustard greens, and broiled chicken).

Until next time….

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A continuation of "Red, White, and Blue...."

Well, this morning seems colder and cloudier here in New York. Well, onto the continuation of my previous blog entry, “Red, White, & Blue. And yes, stress too.”

After arriving at the Mall station in Jersey City, I planned to buy my return ticket first (and get any problems over with), it is here where the station attendant explained the ticket machine to me. Since I wanted a single ride, I could only pay at the time I am about to get on to train. There is a few second time limit. No ticket. No receipt. No proof of purchase. With no attendant around, this is (in my opinion) an incredibly stupid system.

From the station to the mall, it is about a 7 minute walk. For some reason, the builders built an office complex between the station and the mall. Therefore, to go to the station, you have to walk through the office complex. So…..I walked through! Once in the office building and up the escalator there is a pedestrian bridge connecting the office building with the mall. There is a double door separating the office building from the bridge. Only one way to go! No other way around!

You are probably saying, “why is he writing about the passage to the mall?!?!?

As I am riding up the escalator, I can see a group of 5 or 6 people standing and conversing in front of the double doors! Stupid *****!!! The only way for me to go pass is to say excuses me. How stupid and inconsiderate does a person (or persons) have to be to not realize that standing in front of the only doors around is not a good idea. Second place has to go to the security guard – who waits until after I walk pass, to tell the group that they should not stand there. Yes, he was already standing on the floor, so he knew they were there before I got off of the escalator. Sorry, old age is making me increasingly cranky.

My nephew just arrived. He knocks instead of using his key, so my father has started yelling. And the phone just rang. And now he is yelling about keeping clothes…never mind!

Once in the Mall, it looks pretty much the same as I remembered it. The first place I planned to go is my favorite place….the food court! But before I get on line to order at my favorite restaurant, I decide to go to the bathroom. As I walk past the woman’s bathroom, I silent laugh to myself, and think about how glad I am to not have been born female. There is a line of 8 to 10 women waiting outside to use the bathroom. While I am looking at the women’s line, I am trying not to smile. I was telling myself that I’ll be in and out of the men’s bathroom before the next woman on line. I open the men’s bathroom, and…There is a line! There are four men before me, and two toilets. Am I bothered, no not really. The line is still shorter than the women’s line. So I decide to wait. I am a little slow, and I am not very bright. It is only after a couple of minutes does it occur to me that the doors (and the dividers) around the toilets have been removed! I have a shy bladder, and I realize that I really didn’t have to go to the bathroom.

I ate lunch at “Panda Express”. I love their Chinese food. I had the 2-item combo. With the main dish of fried rice (or lo mein), you have a choice of any two combinations. I ordered the fried rice with Kon Pou chicken and sweet and sour chicken, and a melon juice. Good Lunch!

After lunch, I walked around the mall. Bought three white shirts, and a catalog. And I returned to New York. I guess you can tell that I am now tired of typing. But I have one more anecdote.

I took the PATH train back to New York; I got off at 14th street. For those of you who don’t know, 14th street is downtown. I planned to go to the nearby McDonald’s. I’d wanted to go back to the “Panda Express” but I did not want to look like a pig, and the lines for Burger King in the food court were too long. So, to McDonald’s I went.

Inside I could see, there were about 2 customers eating, two customers on line, and one cashier. Not bad I told myself. I’ll be in and out in no time. I go inside the place is one of the big ones maybe 50 or 60 seats on the first floor, with more seats upstairs. There are 5 cash registers, but only one cashier on duty. As I approach the line I quickly realized that I will probably be writing a longer blog. First the staff. About 5 employees all in their late teens (or early 20s). I think two are by the fry machine to clean it or change the oil. One is strolling and stacking trays. Two or three more are in the back. Lots of laughing and joking. Oh, and there was the manager who seemed reluctant to get angry, or take charge. He was the one who brought my fries and burger to the cashier. I felt like I was in a high school cafeteria with part-time students in charge.

But wait! There’s more. There was a woman customer with her daughter (?), her teenage son – he looked like a future basketball player. He was tall. The son was carrying his little brother (!?) The little boy was about 1 or 2 years old.

Now my father is arguing with his lady friend as I am typing this.

Well, the little boy wants to do something, so he is getting fidgety. The teenager puts down the little boy. The little boy takes two steps and falls on his face, he screams. The mother is shouting across the room to the daughter (who is now sitting at a table with another girl), “what do you want to eat? What do you want to drink? So while the baby is crying, the mother is shouting, a couple of employees are goofing-off by the French fry machine, only one thought comes to mind. But I just deleted it from this entry. Sorry!

I was surprised. This…… “spectacle” is something I would only see in my neighborhood. But here I am downtown. What has happened while I’ve been out of the country?

Oh, you are probably asking why I stayed. I knew that once I got on the train, it is not really a good idea to be outside in my neighborhood after dark. See the previous blog. Also, my father decided to cook. What did he make? Red kidney beans, white rice…it would have added nicely to the title and the theme of this blog if the final ingredient was something blue, but no. The final item on the menu was…cow feet! No, that is not a typo. According to my father, cow feet (although they look like pigs feet), they are healthier.

After eating, I go to the train station and wait for the uptown express. I watch as two local trains arrive, and I see many people getting on the local. I am also standing next to a sign that says that all trains will be running on the local track. So the next train that comes…a local, I get on. 2 or 3 minutes later while the train I was riding is at a local station, the express zooms past. ****!!!

Well, that it for now. I am not sure how the photos will save on this blog, so I will just briefly describe them in the order they were taken:

The golden globe was moved to the park in Bowling Green Park. It used to be located at the World Trade Center site.
Korean War Memorial
A couple of photos of the Statute of Liberty seen from Manhattan island.
Glass atrium that is all that remains (I think) of the Twin Towers.
Various photos taken around the perimeter of the former WTC site.
Various photos of the posters of the WTC site.
One way sign strange composite. Charred building (draped in a flag), and charred street signs almost to nowhere.
My Panda Express lunch
A photo of 14th street station.
My refund ticket for the PATH train.