Matching Tracksuits

Month: October 2024

Pack’s Confusing Response

Friday 11 October 2024

Everyone’s favorite cult leader, David C. Pack, is at it again. In part 541 (I wish I was being hyperbolic, but alas, he’s been preaching the same sermon series for years now, setting dates for the return of his convoluted version of Jesus, resetting those dates, and resetting them still again, literally hundreds of times) of “The Greatest Untold Story,” he made some comments about the averted longshoremen strike. He, of course, made it seem like such a strike would result in the end of the United States itself. But God has had mercy on us:

Now God seems to have allowed it to abate, maybe for our sake or because of his work, but that’s what would come come winter and certainly in the spring, if time went on and the wrong person was elected, which may or may not happen.

What is most striking about this is the double-think involved in it. Pack and his predecessors before him (namely, Herbert Armstrong) always asserted that the fall of the United States was a certainty, that it was, in fact, the central element of God’s end-time plan. It would be something someone who really believes this silliness would positively anticipate, with almost giddy excitement. He wouldn’t go around saying this fall will almost certainly happen “if time went on and the wrong person was elected.” Since God is orchestrating the whole thing, it’s utterly impossible for “the wrong person” be be elected.

It makes me think, yet again, that these guys know what they’re saying is utter bullshit but they have fallen in love with the power and prestige (prestige in the eyes of a few hundred people at most, but god-like prestige all the same) they have.

Greenville Game

Thursday 10 October 2024

One thing that rarely happens to me at L’s volleyball game is meeting former students. The two high schools that most of my eighth-grade kids attend are not 5A schools like Mauldin High, so we never play them. This year, however, Greenville High (where probably 45% of my students end up attending) ranked up to 5A, so we now face them a few times a year. The first time was at a weekend tournament that I was unable to attend. The second time was at Mauldin, but I was shuttling the Boy here and there. So tonight, we all went to Greenville High for the final game between these two schools.

There were lots of familiar faces. First and most significantly was E, who was in my English I class four years ago and on L’s travel volleyball team (along with H, another of my students). At weekend tournaments I would sometimes see E and H huddled together, papers spread about, talking to each other.

“What are you girls doing?”

They would both look up at me with mock anger: “Studying for your test, Mr. Scott!”

But E wasn’t the only former student I saw. In total, I’d guess about eleven or twelve kids came up to me to let me know how things are going in high school.

“Guess what, Mr Scott? I have a 98 in English 2!” J, a student from last year, boasted with a smile.

“Do you have all As?” I asked C, who is now a junior.

“Of course!” came the laughing reply.

The game itself was a grueling, five-set slog. Our girls won the first set 25-13, which got them a little too confident. Greenville jumped out to a lead in the second set, and at one point it was 13-19. Our girls didn’t give up, though, and fought back to make it 16-19 before falling apart and losing the set 17-26. The third set went to Mauldin, but just barely: at one point, our girls were down 4-9, but they battled back and won 25-22, going up two sets to one. Of course, Greenville tied it at two sets each with a 19-25 fourth-set victory. Mauldin jumped out to an early lead in the deciding fifth set, going up 5-2 then quickly adding two more to make it 7-2. But as our girls like to do, they gave most of it back and were only up by one, 7-6. Ultimately, they kept a lead, increased it a bit, and won the final set 15-12.

Return

Wednesday 9 October 2024

I don’t think anyone knew what to expect when the students returned to school today. Our eight days out of school were unlike virtually any “break” we teachers had ever experienced, and that surely would be doubly true for the students. There was one “break” it called to mind, the “vacation” we dare not speak of. Still, the similarities were undeniable: we left suddenly; we knew not what devastation the future held for us and those we love; we had no idea when we would return.

During our faculty meeting during yesterday’s teacher work day, our principal reminded us about the potential fragility of the situation. “We have no idea what our kids have gone through. We don’t know what trauma each individual child experienced. We don’t know what stresses await the children when the return home. Go easy on them. Love on them.”

Many of the kids would likely have said they were not happy to be back, that they would have been thrilled to hear that they would never have to return, but our experience of the lockdown would belie such sentiments, as did the students’ faces this morning as they walked down the corridors for the first time in days. There was a palpable sense of relief in each of my classes: things were returning to normal.

Waiting for afternoon transportation

Events like this shouldn’t be the only thing that reminds us of the inherent frailties in many of our students’ lives, shouldn’t be the only thing that reminds us to go easy on them. The more I teach, the more I realize this gentleness is the key to students’ hearts and souls, and once a teacher has those things, she can lead the students — even the most recalcitrant or incorrigible — just about anywhere. Or in the jargon and memes of teaching, “They have to know you care before they care what you know.”

It was a good day to be a teacher.

Polish Wedding in Chicago

Monday 7 October 2024

“Are you going for the bride or the groom?” I was standing at the car rental counter making small talk with the young lady completing the paperwork for us to rent our car, and I answered without giving any thought to the oddness of my response.

“Neither. I’ve never met either of them.”

She smiled. “How did you get the invite if…”

I started pointing over my shoulder. “She knows the bride,” I explained, indicting behind me with my thumb my absent wife. I turned around to discover K wasn’t standing behind me.

“Wherever she is…” I continued.

I have, in fact, only been to one other wedding where I didn’t know the bride or the groom, and it was the evening I proposed to K in 2003.

There was little difference between that evening and Saturday’s wedding. During the 2003 wedding, K and I sat with a group of her college friends (it was a college friend’s wedding), but I really knew none of them.

Saturday, we sat with a group of folks who were from the same village as K (the father of the bride was from Jablonka) but otherwise strangers to us.

No matter: we were soon talking with them as if we’d known them for ages.

That’s part of the magic of a Polish wedding: you can go knowing no one and be fairly certain you’ll still have a great time. The copious amounts of alcohol certainly helps lessens everyone’s inhabitions, but there’s something more to it than that.

Chicago Walk

Saturday 5 October 2024

A 6:30 flight that necessitates a 4:15 wake-up time might get you to Chicago with a lot of time left before the 5:00 wedding that’s the reason for the whole trip, but it also drains you just a bit before anything even starts. Still, this morning’s trip was completely painless: easy parking at our local Greenville airport, quick check-in, smooth security check, on-time boarding and takeoff started the trip off stress free if not a little tired. Things went just as smoothly in Chicago when we arrived, so that put us downtown with a lot of time, a little cafe nearby, and no real commitment other than to explore the city.

We made it to the hotel without much problem (Chicago seems to be the city of Saturday traffic jams), took showers, and headed out for the wedding. Pictures from that coming only tomorrow…

Helene-Free Friday

Friday 4 October 2024

We are fortunate indeed that I could even think of titling today’s update “Helene-Free Friday.” I guess it’s not entirely accurate: the Boy and I did go out and get an enormous bit of wood that we’ll use as our chopping block in the future, but other than that, Helene didn’t impact our day that much.

Other than the fact that we still have friends family staying with us.

Of course, we’re more than glad to help those we love, but it does come with certain advantages to us: three Polish women can make a batch of pierogi (we had leftover mashed potatoes from last night — what else would we do with them?) in almost no time at all.

Most of the evening, though, we spent getting ready for our Chicago trip. We fly out at 6:30 tomorrow morning and arrive back here at 9:30 Sunday. We’ve got our walking tour planned for tomorrow,

and Cocia M is ready to take E for his early game tomorrow morning.

Clearly

Thursday 3 October 2024

This image was making some rounds on social media. On Twitter, I’m sure it went unchecked, but other platforms (read: platforms not yet run by megalomaniacal Nazi idiots) took the image down. It’s fairly clear why: it’s obvious AI.

“I don’t think FB wants this picture on FB. They have been deleting it.”

Why do right-wingers fall so easily for conspiracy theories?

They even have conspiracy theories about their conspiracy theories:

Wednesday After Helene

Wednesday 2 October 2024

There was more progress in the neighborhood today: the two trees blocking our road no longer are, and more importantly, the power up the street (due to the downed lines of those two trees) has been restored.

“Has been restored” — the most pathetic use of passive voice ever. Linesmen restored it. Men who are working twelve to fourteen hours every day to bring power back to the millions in the south who lost it.

We should all find one linesman and buy him dinner when this is all over. Each linesman would get dozens of evenings out. Probably hundreds. And we still wouldn’t have repaid them.

On our property, I worked today to remove the dam of debris that formed in our backyard creek. It was about five feet high and seemed like it would completely block the water the next time we had a heavy rain — so it had to go. I’ll finish it up tomorrow.

And in the evening, soccer practice and a walk around the fields. Surprisingly little damage there: almost no trees down at all.

Tuesday After the Storm

Tuesday 1 October 2024

Our street has been blocked since Friday morning when Helene took down the tree I’d expected to fall for at least five years.

“When are they going to take care of that?” L asked. “When are they going to get rid of that tree,” E asked. The answer was simple, like so many things in Helene’s wake: “I don’t know.”

We kept reminding them about fortunate we are: we had power back the same day we lost it. We never lost water. We have a home that “flooded” with about two inches of water at most, and in the basement, where we’d already prepared for just that much flooding.

Today, though, the linesmen began working in our neighborhood. They took care of the broken power pole behind our house and cleared the tree blocking our road (though that was the city’s work, I guess).

And we decided it was time to do some exploring. We headed back along the creek that we’ve always called our adventuring area. There was a waterfall there that spilled over some rocks and enormous roots of two trees that towered over everything.

Those two trees, however, were casualties of Helene. Minor casualties, to be sure: they were tall enough to take out a bit of fencing in a backyard on our street, but that’s nothing compared to the death toll that’s in the Carolinas.

Heading back home, we noticed another change: without the enormous tree that was hanging over our street (and the blocking our street), our street looks a lot different.

It’s not the only thing in the south that looks different thanks to Helene.