PopTop
11-24-2002, 12:29 PM
Sat., 23 Nov 02, Canyon Lake, Tx - - - I’ve always bugged my nephews and nieces, along with a lot of other kids, about their schoolwork. Goes back to my two oldest nephews, the pair about as different as black and white, literally and figuratively.
The eldest of the two has always had this incredible thirst for information and knowledge, a thirst that is in many ways exceeded only by his tremendous ability to soak it all up. I would ask him, “How’s my favorite little nerd doing?” And he would launch into some discourse on the theory of intergalactic trajectory and how the forces against space travel might one day be overcome by the particle redistribution of the object being propelled through the heavens. “That good, huh?” would be my reply.
Seriously, I sent him a pocket protector when he was about 8 and noted, “For my favorite little nerd.” A few weeks later I asked him if he received my gift, which I thought for sure he would take as the joke it was intended. He answered, “Well, Uncle B., I do not own a lot of shirts with pockets, so I rarely get to use it.”
JP attended a tough-as-nails prep in South Carolina and graduated from Clemson with one major, about a dozen minors and something like 186,300 hours of credit, which, he noted, was the exact speed of light. He enters Naval flight training in the very near future, has a beautiful wife and daughter, and another child on the way. He’s always said he’d like to be an astronaut. I rarely had to ask him what he learned this week at school. Especially since his answers would usually embarrass me and make me look stupid.
My other nephew has never really been into books. He’s an above average student, a solid athlete and will graduate from SouthWest Texas State this December with just enough credits to give him a teaching degree with a minor in math. He’s wanted to coach and teach since he was very young, and I know for certain he will be very good at both.
But he’s never been a big reader, always preferring to learn just enough to get by and then getting outside to see how life in general is put to the test. When Josh was in about the third grade, he brought home a report card with an A, three B’s, a C and an F. The failing mark was in language skills, a subject I can’t stand for anyone to slough off or not take seriously.
This was within a year after Josh’s father had been killed in an auto accident, and I had been trying to be a little more than an uncle to the boy. Maybe I was trying too hard at times, but the two of us eventually became very good buds and he’s probably the child who is closest for me to ever experience what it’s like to be a dad.
Uncle Willie's Weekend School for Wayward Warriors
My sister called me up when Josh came home with his report card and asked if I would help her deal with the problem. I took Josh outside for a quick catch with the pigskin, and talked to him about the failing grade. I let him know when someone makes good grades in five subjects, but fails the sixth, it’s obvious that person isn't dumb or slow or in need of some special education. He confessed he just didn’t like his teacher – For some reason, he had one teacher for the other subjects, but then the whole class was instructed in reading, writing and spelling by a different instructor. – and that he just didn’t feel like doing the homework.
So I told him he would have to undergo some rigorous catch-up training with me that weekend, and explained to him how no nephew of mine was going to get away with the old “just don’t feel like it” excuse, especially in reading, writing and spelling.
I picked him up on Friday after school and handed him a brand new dictionary. At the house were a brand new spiral notebook and a box of pencils. Spaced throughout the notebook were pages I had scribbled words on, about 10 words to a page and maybe 40 of those pages in all.
His assignment was to look up the words on each of those pages, write down the definitions, write a sentence using the word, and then write a paragraph using all of the words. After he finished one page, go on to the next page.
I didn’t stand over him with a ruler and scornful eye all weekend; in fact, we ended up going out to eat, playing catch, and watching a few movies in addition to his dictionary lesson.
When I took him home on Sunday, I asked him, “So, what did you learn this weekend.” I fully expected him to rattle off the definition to a few new words he’d learned.
Instead, he answered, “I learned it’s a lot easier to do my homework than spend a weekend with you.”
And thus was born Uncle Willie’s Weekend School for Wayward Warriors. A couple more of the kids have entered my hallowed halls along the way, and all graduated with flying colors I’m pleased to report.
The Bus Stops Here
It’s become sort of a tradition now for me to meet my youngest nephew and godson, along with my niece, on Friday afternoons when the bus drops them at their house. The schedule just works that way, and I’m sure I look forward to this meeting more than the kids do. I always ask them what they learned in school that week.
This week Conor told me, “Aw, not much, just a few new words but mostly more of my plusses. What did you learn, silly Uncle Billy?”
That answer sort of became a reaffirmation for me since it does prove that Art Linkletter was right: Kids really do say the darnedest things.
I’ve always lived by the adage, “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.” And I started asking myself the question I put forth to the kids time and time again: What did I learn this week?
I learned that no matter how far I’ve come on either, tolerance and patience are not my strong suits. I learned this, perhaps relearned it, while sitting in traffic jams that incessantly choke the City of Houston.
I learned that railroad rights-of way stretch vertically just as they do horizontally. In other words, once you lay a track nobody else can come in and cross over your track with another track. That may sound like a simple enough of a concept, and it does make pretty good sense to me. But this is an important fact for the City of San Antonio as they try and woo Toyota to build a new production facility plant in the Alamo City. With all of the mergers recently, Union Pacific owns most of the tracks in the most attractive sites for Toyota to build the new plant, if they choose San Antonio, that is. And Toyota isn’t about to be held hostage by one rail line for getting their raw materials in or their finished product out.
I learned that San Antonio is probably a shoo-in for the Toyota plant. The only other locale reportedly still in the running is Arkansas who shot themselves in the foot this last week by promising former president Bill Clinton would be involved in the new venture. See ya’, Arrrrrrr-Kansas!
I learned that no matter how interesting I try to make the OSHA-mandated safety meetings at work, most people would rather take a nap during my presentations than pay attention. I swear, I could put a dozen Victoria Secret’s models at the front of the room showing the correct procedure to put on safety glasses, lace up steel-toed boots, or keep their hands and other appendages clear of moving parts on machinery, and most of the guys would just nod off as soon as they signed the attendance sheet.
And I learned that it’s tough to beat a gorgeous fall afternoon with a Texas high school football playoff game in front of you. Met up with my nephew Josh in San Marcos to see Smithson Valley, where he is completing his student teaching and coaching duties this term, take on the rich kids from Austin Westlake who have dominated high school football in this area for quite a while. The Westlake Chaparrals handed the SV Rangers their only loss this season back in a non-district game in September, and between 12,000-15,000 were on hand to see the rematch in the second round of the playoffs. Would’ve been more but Westlake’s supporters were torn between this contest or the state finals in girl’s volleyball, so their crowd was a bit lower than expected.
The Rangers ripped off 21 points in the first nine minutes of the game and coasted to an easy 41-7 win much to the delight of my nephew and the students who walked by and greeted him during the game. Hearing a 16-year-old say to my nephew, “Hi, Mister Morejón,” was very weird to me.
Just goes to show I have a lot to learn still.
So, what did you learn this week?
The eldest of the two has always had this incredible thirst for information and knowledge, a thirst that is in many ways exceeded only by his tremendous ability to soak it all up. I would ask him, “How’s my favorite little nerd doing?” And he would launch into some discourse on the theory of intergalactic trajectory and how the forces against space travel might one day be overcome by the particle redistribution of the object being propelled through the heavens. “That good, huh?” would be my reply.
Seriously, I sent him a pocket protector when he was about 8 and noted, “For my favorite little nerd.” A few weeks later I asked him if he received my gift, which I thought for sure he would take as the joke it was intended. He answered, “Well, Uncle B., I do not own a lot of shirts with pockets, so I rarely get to use it.”
JP attended a tough-as-nails prep in South Carolina and graduated from Clemson with one major, about a dozen minors and something like 186,300 hours of credit, which, he noted, was the exact speed of light. He enters Naval flight training in the very near future, has a beautiful wife and daughter, and another child on the way. He’s always said he’d like to be an astronaut. I rarely had to ask him what he learned this week at school. Especially since his answers would usually embarrass me and make me look stupid.
My other nephew has never really been into books. He’s an above average student, a solid athlete and will graduate from SouthWest Texas State this December with just enough credits to give him a teaching degree with a minor in math. He’s wanted to coach and teach since he was very young, and I know for certain he will be very good at both.
But he’s never been a big reader, always preferring to learn just enough to get by and then getting outside to see how life in general is put to the test. When Josh was in about the third grade, he brought home a report card with an A, three B’s, a C and an F. The failing mark was in language skills, a subject I can’t stand for anyone to slough off or not take seriously.
This was within a year after Josh’s father had been killed in an auto accident, and I had been trying to be a little more than an uncle to the boy. Maybe I was trying too hard at times, but the two of us eventually became very good buds and he’s probably the child who is closest for me to ever experience what it’s like to be a dad.
Uncle Willie's Weekend School for Wayward Warriors
My sister called me up when Josh came home with his report card and asked if I would help her deal with the problem. I took Josh outside for a quick catch with the pigskin, and talked to him about the failing grade. I let him know when someone makes good grades in five subjects, but fails the sixth, it’s obvious that person isn't dumb or slow or in need of some special education. He confessed he just didn’t like his teacher – For some reason, he had one teacher for the other subjects, but then the whole class was instructed in reading, writing and spelling by a different instructor. – and that he just didn’t feel like doing the homework.
So I told him he would have to undergo some rigorous catch-up training with me that weekend, and explained to him how no nephew of mine was going to get away with the old “just don’t feel like it” excuse, especially in reading, writing and spelling.
I picked him up on Friday after school and handed him a brand new dictionary. At the house were a brand new spiral notebook and a box of pencils. Spaced throughout the notebook were pages I had scribbled words on, about 10 words to a page and maybe 40 of those pages in all.
His assignment was to look up the words on each of those pages, write down the definitions, write a sentence using the word, and then write a paragraph using all of the words. After he finished one page, go on to the next page.
I didn’t stand over him with a ruler and scornful eye all weekend; in fact, we ended up going out to eat, playing catch, and watching a few movies in addition to his dictionary lesson.
When I took him home on Sunday, I asked him, “So, what did you learn this weekend.” I fully expected him to rattle off the definition to a few new words he’d learned.
Instead, he answered, “I learned it’s a lot easier to do my homework than spend a weekend with you.”
And thus was born Uncle Willie’s Weekend School for Wayward Warriors. A couple more of the kids have entered my hallowed halls along the way, and all graduated with flying colors I’m pleased to report.
The Bus Stops Here
It’s become sort of a tradition now for me to meet my youngest nephew and godson, along with my niece, on Friday afternoons when the bus drops them at their house. The schedule just works that way, and I’m sure I look forward to this meeting more than the kids do. I always ask them what they learned in school that week.
This week Conor told me, “Aw, not much, just a few new words but mostly more of my plusses. What did you learn, silly Uncle Billy?”
That answer sort of became a reaffirmation for me since it does prove that Art Linkletter was right: Kids really do say the darnedest things.
I’ve always lived by the adage, “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.” And I started asking myself the question I put forth to the kids time and time again: What did I learn this week?
I learned that no matter how far I’ve come on either, tolerance and patience are not my strong suits. I learned this, perhaps relearned it, while sitting in traffic jams that incessantly choke the City of Houston.
I learned that railroad rights-of way stretch vertically just as they do horizontally. In other words, once you lay a track nobody else can come in and cross over your track with another track. That may sound like a simple enough of a concept, and it does make pretty good sense to me. But this is an important fact for the City of San Antonio as they try and woo Toyota to build a new production facility plant in the Alamo City. With all of the mergers recently, Union Pacific owns most of the tracks in the most attractive sites for Toyota to build the new plant, if they choose San Antonio, that is. And Toyota isn’t about to be held hostage by one rail line for getting their raw materials in or their finished product out.
I learned that San Antonio is probably a shoo-in for the Toyota plant. The only other locale reportedly still in the running is Arkansas who shot themselves in the foot this last week by promising former president Bill Clinton would be involved in the new venture. See ya’, Arrrrrrr-Kansas!
I learned that no matter how interesting I try to make the OSHA-mandated safety meetings at work, most people would rather take a nap during my presentations than pay attention. I swear, I could put a dozen Victoria Secret’s models at the front of the room showing the correct procedure to put on safety glasses, lace up steel-toed boots, or keep their hands and other appendages clear of moving parts on machinery, and most of the guys would just nod off as soon as they signed the attendance sheet.
And I learned that it’s tough to beat a gorgeous fall afternoon with a Texas high school football playoff game in front of you. Met up with my nephew Josh in San Marcos to see Smithson Valley, where he is completing his student teaching and coaching duties this term, take on the rich kids from Austin Westlake who have dominated high school football in this area for quite a while. The Westlake Chaparrals handed the SV Rangers their only loss this season back in a non-district game in September, and between 12,000-15,000 were on hand to see the rematch in the second round of the playoffs. Would’ve been more but Westlake’s supporters were torn between this contest or the state finals in girl’s volleyball, so their crowd was a bit lower than expected.
The Rangers ripped off 21 points in the first nine minutes of the game and coasted to an easy 41-7 win much to the delight of my nephew and the students who walked by and greeted him during the game. Hearing a 16-year-old say to my nephew, “Hi, Mister Morejón,” was very weird to me.
Just goes to show I have a lot to learn still.
So, what did you learn this week?