The Flag

Today I got behind a car that was flying a Confederate flag. Not just plate holders or a decal on the window, but a full size flag on a pole affixed to the trunk. Man, the older I get, the more that flag sets me off.

Can you imagine it happening today? Say, in Florida, for example. "Hey, United States of America, thanks for all the infrastructure investment. You know; roads, airports, military bases. We are now the United State of Florida, though. We're going to start regulating your trucks using those roads, your planes using those airports, and your soldiers are no longer welcome on our bases. We're going to request that they store their arms and that you evac them to bases in your country. If you don't cooperate, we're going to start shooting them."

That is what the Confederate flag means to me. Wisconsin sent soldiers to fight in the Civil War. Some of them died fighting against an army that flew that flag. That flag stands for a people who took up arms against their country. Against my country.

I dunno'. Maybe it's different down South. It would probably still drive me nuts . . . but here? Especially here. What are they thinking?

Becky's new job

Becky was "hired", or whatever it's called with a temp agency, by a place called QPS to work at a cheese factory called DCI. It sounded convenient. She was told she could pretty much pick the days she worked. The hours were miserable (4am-2pm), but if she only worked two days a week, they allowed her to coordinate around my class and mostly not conflict with me working at Pizza Hut. Which meant only needing a sitter periodically and for short times.

What that turned out to mean was, Becky could pick how many days a week she wanted, they'd schedule her for the specific days, and then call to tell her some machine had broken down so she wasn't needed. It was almost three weeks before she actually got a day of work . . . and a machine broke down, so everyone was sent home. Yesterday she finally got to work for a full day. Bagging Swiss cheese.

Ah well, not an exciting job, but it pays. It's still pretty convenient in terms of taking care of Tabby around our work schedules.

In fact, Tabby and I had a great time while Mom was at work. We grabbed donuts for breakfast, ate them at the mall and wandered around with the mall walkers for a bit. We saw that Cats & Dogs 2 was playing at the re-release theater and decided to return after lunch to watch it. It was a cute movie. Nothing to deep, but still a lot of fun. Tabby absolutely loved it.

Requests from the delivery guy

Just two quick things.

First, if you order a pizza (or whatever) delivered at night, please turn on your porch light.

Second, some night when you have a spare moment, turn on your porchlight, get in your car, pull onto the street in front of your house and locate your address numbers. If they are hidden by your flag or in the shadows under your eave or in any other way not clearly visible, identify a location on where they would be visible and some time in the near future, put them there.

That is all. Thank you.

Happy Labor Day

The rest of the world celebrates it on May 1st. International Workers' Day, a celebration of the common laborer and the contributions of the labor movement. It had a hard time gaining traction in the US, though. Too much of a commie holiday. Until we had a president who wanted to make nice with labor unions and pushed for the holiday, but celebrated American style. Instead of on May Day, like the rest of the commie world, we'd celebrate at the end of summer. By giving all the white collar guys the day off and telling the blue collar laborers to get back to work. If they're union bastards, they get time-and-a-half and can consider themselves lucky.

Sorry if I seem kinda' cynical today.

I was scheduled to work 10:30am to 8pm. And, no, not as a lucky union bastard. It was busy. Very, very busy. Normal work day? With steady deliveries for 8ish hours? 20ish deliveries. Today? 35. So busy we ran out of hand tossed dough. We ran out of stuffed crust. We ran out of breadsticks. And the whole day we were somewhat understaffed. You want to know why? You ready for this? Because today, of all days, they were worried about labor costs.

I'm not kidding. I didn't make that up.

I ended up working just over 10 hours without a break (there was never time for a break) and with about enough food for an anorexic teen girl. They still shouldn't have let me go. There were dishes, no exaggeration, piled up to my face waiting to be washed. And that was just the beginning of the clean up that had to be done. And delivery orders still being called in. I mean, they should have let me, specifically, go home. But they really needed at least one more employee there instead of me.

First day, part two.

So how was my first day of school. It was good. Man, the UWGB campus has changed so much. My class is held in a building that wasn't even there when I graduated. And a 300 level math class with over 20 students? Unheard of back then. One guy looks to be about my age, everyone else could be my kids.

The most exciting thing, though, was the homework I did that afternoon. I mean, Dr. Davis is a fine lecturer, clear and thorough. Actually doing the math, though, was a lot of fun.

First Day of School

For an end of summer project, Becky let the kids each design their own t-shirt, printed the designs onto transfer paper and voila . . . $4-$5 for the shirt, $3 for the transfer paper and you get a pretty inexpensive artsy/craftsy thing the boys really enjoyed. Even if you add in the 2 sheets of transfer paper and one shirt we ruined trying to figure out how to do it. I mean, at least, considering the cost of buying a new t-shirt someone else designed.

First day of school, everyone wore their very own personalized shirts.



So how was the first day of school?

Ben
It was all right. Okay, here's what happened. We sat in a class while they told us about the school and the rules. Then we toured the school. Then they talked to us more.

Sam
Really good! I hardly got lost at all. I met one kid I even have several classes with, including study hour.

Jack
Good! I really like my AP chem teacher. Also I can get college credit for the class, then take AP physics next year. But I'm the only Junior in a class full of Seniors. Math and English will be okay. Gym should be fun.

"I hardly got lost at all" is significant. Edison Middle School is huge. I think it's a rambling five stories built into a hill, so not all stairwells pass all floors. And the number of students is crazy. Green Bay has an open enrollment policy allowing families to choose which schools their kids go to. Most still choose their neighborhood school. I mean, transportation becomes an issue if you don't, right? But enough choose otherwise, and I guess Preble and Edison are the popular choices.

So Jack, Sam . . . are the schools noticeably bigger than Farnsworth and South were in Sheboygan?

Both (simultaneously)
Yeah!

Sam
Like five times as big.

Jack
So big we had more people than could fit at our lunch table.