I posted this piece before.  I found it tonight and I like it again.  Here goes, like it or not . . .

Be Not Righteous

By David Pulling

May 2008

Be not

Righteous in

My own eyes–

Do unto

Others as I would have them . . .

For the Father has promised

Victory to the humble

(not the religious)

Those

In whose hearts

Praise leaps up for grace

Free

To the human race.

Payton "reads" a book her Honey probably read to Payton's Daddy years ago

On Wednesdays, Honey fetches Payton from her Mommy and Daddy and brings her to Eunice to spend the day.  The routines are pleasant, beginning with scrambled eggs for breakfast  watching the Sprout network.  Breakfast ends with dragging out the tub of toys, followed by a shopping and errands run followed by lunch, at which time Papa returns home to join the fun.

Today, Honey found a collection of books she preserved from our own kids’ childhood and spent some time introducing Payton to the literary treasures of her Daddy’s youth.  Undoubtedly, the activity delighted grandmother as much as granddaughter.

Such a little doll!

As a New Orleans Saints fan since the beginning in 1967, I believe I’m qualified to comment on Saints quarterbacks over the years.  We’ve had some good ones (Bobby Hebert), some who could have been great had the supporting cast around them been equal to the task (Archie Manning), some disappointing ones (Aaron Brooks), and a herd of mediocre ones (beginning with Billy Kilmer and extending through the ages).

But Drew Brees is THE bomb.

Here’s an example of why I like Drew the most.  I just finished watching the Denver Broncos lose to the Steelers on Monday night football.  The Broncos quarterback, Kyle Orton (whose resemblance reminds me forever of the pass-pitching character Uncle Rico from the Napoleon Dynamite movie), has earned quite a reputation this year for “managing” his team’s conservative offense.  What that means, to me, is that as along as life is rosey, Orton’s low octane passing attack will keep the Broncos upright and afloat.

What happens to “Uncle Rico” as QB when adversity strikes, however?  The team falls behind, needs some quick strikes, but the quarterback is only styled to “manage” the game.

I’ll tell you what happens, based on what the Steelers did tonight: The quarterback-as-manager’s team goes down!  How dare Denver believe they’re going to succeed deep into the playoffs, much less the big dance, with a quarterback who can only “manage” the game as long as his team’s in the lead!

On the other hand, Drew Brees provides the answer for the Saints.  He not only manages the game, but he can dictate the game.  If his team falls behind a score or two, he’s the guy–not Kyle Orton or the like–who I want on my sideline.

I took my English 1002 class to the library today for a kick-off activity to get them started on the obligatory research paper that has afflicted second semester freshman writers since the Industrial Revolution when my pedagogical forbears invented the two-semester freshman comp. sequence.  What a boring  tradition!  The challenge, then, is to make what one writer I read in grad school refer to as “the vast unflowering desert of freshman composition” into a fertile pasture.

The class today encouraged me.  Clutching the  “location/citation worksheets” I devised for the task,  they attacked the reference section with  grim determination.  The reference librarian was my aid and assistant, greeting them in the stacks with questions, “What is your topic?” and then pointing them to this reference set or that dictionary or this encyclopedia.  As the students found the articles in the books and took them to the tables to read and evaluate their newfound treasures, I sensed their pride of achievement: They had chosen a topic, and now they were becoming subject matter “experts!”   More than one student made remarks like, “This is cool!”

I really was humbled in the process.  I realized (for the zillionth time in 22 years of teaching) that so much of what I do as a teacher ultimately depends on my getting down from the high horse, stepping out from behind the lectern, moving to an obscure post in the back of the class, and watching them take control.

I saw that happen today in English 1002.  Those kids were awesome!!

The tech department at work finally had a change of heart about Apple products, so about a month ago I got to trade in the abominable Blackjack I used for the past two years for the latest iPhone 3g.

I shouldn’t call the Blackjack abominable–when I first got it, I thought it was pretty cool.  But when I use the iPhone now and recall the Blackjack, I think of the Dixie cups on strings we used to play “phones” with when we were kids.

Of course, it’s not really the phone feature of the iPhone that’s striking.  A phone is a phone is a phone.  The coolest thing about the iPhone is that it’s so much more than a phone.  The Blackjack did other stuff, too, I admit.  I could even take video clips with the Blackjack (the iPhone just takes static shots).  But the Blackjack gets a D- for web navigation while the iPhone gets an A+.

The touch keypad on the iPhone is another point of comparison to the Blackjack’s push-button keypad.  Although the iPhone keypad takes a little getting-used-to, it’s truly digital in comparison to the Blackjack’s truly push-button.  Sure, you use fingers to push buttons the same as you use fingers to touch the screen on the iPhone, but the touch screen elevates “digital” to a higher meaning.  This is 2009, after all!

The best feature of the iPhone has to be its “Internetability.”  My old phone went online, but it moved slow and clunky.  The iPhone, in comparison, surfs  gracefully.  It seeks out and joins (with my permission, of course) wi-fi networks or uses, with equal alacrity it seems, whatever 3g network it finds within range.

So I’m sold on the iPhone.  How did I manage before?

Ah, the marvels of technology!

To a Louisiana football fan, just driving by empty Tiger Stadium at LSU on a weekday lifts the spirits.  Three national championship banners float gracefully atop the stadium’s rim, bearing witness to the tradition and the state pride that we associate with our LSU brand.

LSU's Only Heisman Trophy Winner Ever, Billy Cannon

But to be IN Tiger Stadium on Saturday game night is really something special.  Happy for me, that’s where I spent my Halloween eve this past Saturday.  The night was particularly memorable, and I’m extra happy I could be there, because October 31, 2009, Halloween night, was the 50th anniversary of former LSU Heisman Trophy winner Billy Cannon’s legendary punt return to beat Ol’ Miss on October 31, 1959.   That was one of the most famous battles ever played in Tiger Stadium between two bitter rivals who both were at the top of the national rankings that year.  LSU was, in fact, the defending national champ from 1958.

The University commemorated the anniversary during Saturday’s game by showing  this video clip.  To enrich the celebration, Dr. Cannon appeared on the field, fifty years older but still looking every bit the hero.   So sorry I wasn’t there in ‘59 (I was 7 years old), but at least I was there these 50 years later.  The occasion was a proud Tiger memory moment.

Payton Elizabuff Pulling: The spirit of LSU!

Although I missed the door-to-door trick or treat with Payton because I was on the road working until after-hours, I was on hand for Payton’s return from her door-to-door rounds in the neighborhood when she got back with her parents and her Honey.  Honey took this shot of  jubilant Payton, all decked out as an LSU cheerleader with a plastic pumpkin full of candy stowed somewhere off-camera.

I am moved to this conclusion: Parents think their kids are cute; But, Grandparents KNOW their kids are cute!!!

It’s a generational perspective: Our poor kids!   They won’t get it until they’ve reached their parents’ stage of life.

May they be so blessed to last as long!

I have revisited this topic off and on in the blog over the last few years as former student testimonies show up from time to time to reassure me that this craft of teaching really does touch lives; as well, encouraging feedback whispers back from time to time, often years alter, to touch the teacher’s life.  To wit, my latest episode . . .

We were discussing the poem “I think I shall paint my nails red”  this morning in English 1002, preparing for an upcoming explication assignment.  I recalled a particularly adept explication a student had done on this poem two or three years ago, but  I couldn’t recall the student’s name.  Some of that student’s former school mates are in the present class, so I asked them to help me recall, and they reminded me her name was Abby.

Abby tested out of English 1001 with high ACT scores.  She took my class to get a double head start on college, and she frequently set the standard for quality work and writing.  I took a moment  after Abby’s friends helped me recall her name to praise the work Abby had done explicating the very poem we were discussing.  And the discussion moved on.

The best came after class.   Abby’s former schoolmates approached me.  Katie in particular was almost incredulous that I had recalled Abby on this day, because this very day, Katie was bearing a personal message to me from Abby, whose name I couldn’t recall a few moments earlier, but whom Katie had recently seen in their home town.  Katie’s message to me from Abby was to tell me that of all the professors Abby has had at UL-Lafayette (where Abby enrolled after high school graduation), I was the best!

Gosh. Should I be stunned?  Humbled?

(O.K.  I admit–I wasn’t humbled.  Just the opposite.  I like hearing my horn tooted as much as the next dude!)

How about the coincidence?  The very day I randomly recalled Abby,  her friend in my class has a personal message for me.  If I have to choose between Providence and coincidence, I’ll choose Providence!

So I end, “Thank you, Lord, for the humble rewards!   And bless Abby, my former student.”

Marley and Sadie frolic in the ploughed up patch of the back yard where Marley digs.

Sarah and I sat on the patio this afternoon, lamenting the ugly patch of lawn adjacent to the patio where Marley the Dog has destroyed the yard, scratching and rooting for God-knows-what.  All we know is that our  stretch of healthy, green grass has been clawed and plowed and scraped bare right before the onset of winter, assuring a winter’s worth of mud to dirty the doggie pattes (paws) all the more as they track up the patio (and into the house!).

Sarah lamented the condition of the yard this afternoon: “Look at that!  It looks like we have armadillos in the back yard.”

I corrected her: “No, not armadillos.  But we do have a “Marleydillo.”

Why he digs is beyond us.  He’s almost two, so the propensity doesn’t owe to puppyhood.  And we’re pretty sure there’s no buried treasure.

This evening, we cheered the home town Eunice high school Bobcats to a 49-6 halftime lead on Homecoming night and went home before the granddaughter got too grumpy.  We’re waiting to hear the final score of the rout on the Friday night sports show.

Tomorrow, I’m bound for Baton Rouge to tailgate and see how the Tigers manage Auburn, a significant game with national ranking repercussions.

Sunday, I may have to skip choir practice because the undefeated Saints are on at 3:15 against the Dolphins.

How important is football in Louisiana?  It’s not the meaning of life, but it sure does add meaning to life!