As Always, Another 365 Days Have Come & Gone...Taking the Karalvan to Compital Crandall in 2023...Branching in a New Direction Once Again

Hard to believe I've kept at this for 16 years, but at this point it's a way of life. I always write everyday, and for the last decade, plus six, I've done so in digital places. I'll continue this in 2023 at Compital Crandall. You can join me here.

In the meantime, you can also watch the 2022 Crandall montage below. Happy New Year, Everyone! Here's to hope, joy, integrity, and possibilities.

Last Post of 2022...When Mom Gets Visited from an Ol' Neighbor, Joanne, and Suddenly Time Explodes in a Text and All You Can Do is Smile

When you're young, you never think a day will end, summers will come, or holidays will return. Everything operates in slow motion, and you have memories of this baseball game, or that pick-up football game, and riding ten speed bikes. Then high school hits, you get a job, you go on to college, and you hear stories of the little kids who used to live down the street who were football and track stars, eventually play Division I, and make it to the NFL. 

And you just remember the mom and dad who you always waved to, understood as the fabric of the neighborhood, and then like you, their time moves on, too. Nothing sits still.

So when Joanne visited my mom and I ask, "Did you get any pictures?" she sends photos of JR, Calvin, and Curtis as adult men, with their own kids, and all you can think is, "Wow. Look at time...will ya?"

These were the boys that replaced you and your friends on Amalfi Drive...the days of Kenny and Chrissy Williams...their little nieces and nephews who, like you, grew up. It's absolutely amazing to see the adult versions of their younger selves and to see smiles, happiness, and joy....all radiating from the same that Joanne and her husband always radiated from down the street. I've kept up slightly through Shawny, and always remembered Neesy, the oldest, who used to sprint down the street when she was in high school and I was in junior high. Now, all these years later, and knowing of their athletic careers and growth, a photograph arrives. 

It's pretty remarkable to see the way days, months, and even years become a blur and then to suddenly see lifetimes before you...beautiful lifetimes.

We are all raised by the neighborhood families, even when we don't realize they're keeping an eye on us. So much of my childhood was visiting with the parents and keeping an eye on the kids as they were outside playing. Then, Wola! They're adults, and their family story goes on just like your own.

I remember the announcements of razz-ma-tazz hair, and the time I hit homerun and Chrissy was on the sideline cheering me on like I was a huge stud. She was in high school, and the the oldest cousin from the other end of Amalfi Drive, and I remember how much gushing came from me knowing that a high school girl was pretending I was the greatest man on earth for hitting a home run. 

This ended 2022 perfectly...seeing time as it moves forward and knowing the happiness remains with their family. 

Here's to them...the Crandalls...the Altiers...and all those that were Amalfi Drive at the time. This, I believe, is what beautiful is all about.

And I'm so glad Joanne stopped to visit with my mom. That is extra special...there is no other word to describe it. This is definitely the bow wrapping up the year that just was...we are all connected by time, space, coincidence, and family. 

This One is a Punch to the Gut. I Am So Fortunate to Have Had the Mentorship of a Legend...a Sage...a One-of-a-Kind Genius.

Sue sent me a message yesterday. Gay Rapley passed away. I'm in shock, a bit disillusioned, and so terribly sad about her leaving. So much of my teaching career is owed to her and it doesn't seem possible that her zest and pizazz are no longer with us.

She was the Queen of being a free spirit. Her influence on decades of young people cannot be measured. As I've reached out to alumni, they've said, "She's the reason I became the person I am. She invested so much in us."

In 1996, I did my student teaching at the J. Graham Brown School and was mentored by Sue McV, but also taken under the wings of Gay Rapley. She, Neysa, and Sue were the high school English Department and when I joined in 1997, Gay was my mentor, my laughter, my vision for what is possible, and my hope. She was the English teacher who wore feather boas with Keds, pushed all the boundaries of what young people could do in high school, corrected my grammar, and who offered Maude-like humor and energy with eccentricity, brilliance, and love (we showed Harold & Maude every year in her honor). Not a day went by when I didn't learn something new from her. Her retirement crushed us, but she deserved it, and my colleagues and I did all we could to live up to her reputation, funk, and joy (yes, she loved to play the role of cynic and doomsday-ist, but that was not the educator who she really was for so many). She was the light of the school.

I can only imagine the life lessons she offered throughout a full career as an English teacher. Her influence on me was always astronomical and I think about her all the time. She retired, moved to Florida, but planted numerous seeds in the human being I am today. Those seeds grew in my time in Kentucky, during my doctoral work in Syracuse, and now as a National Writing Project site director.

I remember after she won teacher-of-the-year, and announced her retirement, that at graduation she locked her keys in the car. After parents and students left, she asked me to go with her to her car for help, but we ended up calling someone to break in. His license plate said, "Pimp-Mobilie" and I always laughed that she was rescued by this kid with that plate, and flipping a feather boa behind her and leaving the Brown for the last time, saying, "Crandall, it's time for a new journey to begin."

She wined and dined me. Said she wanted to be me for Halloween (we swapped clothes and let me borrow a moo-moo), and reminded me that nothing was more important than mentoring and loving students. In her last year, we shared a beautiful student who lost her mother. I remember how delicate Gay was with this student, especially with helping her to keep faith through tragedy, and finding a reason to laugh. She was always an angel on earth.

Here I was, simply starting out. There she was, investing a lifetime and career to this newbie with a wild desire to teach and an ambition to keep the Brown legacy going. She often told me, "You're too ambitious to stay in the profession," and I always hated that. She was right, though. As I witnessed things crumbling with new leadership and national trends, I needed to find a new tract that would allow me to ask additional questions...to push against systems a little more...and to keep my spunk. She was such a wise woman. I like to think that so much of what I do is because of her.

I'm crushed to learn that she no longer with us, and I was sad that she grew distant after her retirement. But I'm always talking to her in my head...in my deepest thinking...and with all I plan for others (because that is who she was).

Gay Rapley was always larger than life (I loved that we had a Rapley-Ripley connection). 

I never thought I'd see a day that I left the Brown School, but when I did, I vowed to keep the Brown School alive in whatever I chose to do. That was Gay. She was so much the heart and soul of the school. The connections I made for a decade after she left was because of everything she modeled. I always wanted to live up to her legacy.

So smart. Often on the edge of outrageous. And such a beautiful human being. I am a better man because of her. Dang...this life thing is rough at times.

This is a punch to the gut that will take some time to process. 

The best years of my life were at the Brown. That place, and its teachers, are extraordinary. Wow.

I Made It Out of the House. It's a Crandall Tradition to Hit Clearance at My Favorite Places to Stock up for the Next Season. I Feel Accomplished

After walking Karal yesterday morning I decided to jump in the car and hit a few places where I knew holiday goods would be 50% off. At several stores I expected the lady to say, "That will be $240," but she usually said, "$24.00" - I'm that good. I put all the purchases into a big tub and it will sit in the basement with the tree and ornaments until next year. Truth is, I will forget all about it, but when I get it out at Thanksgiving, I will be sure to say, "Cool. Glad I did this."

Why pay $40 for a sweater when you can get it for $4? That's my motto.

Today, I need to get back into teaching mode, as the winter-session begins and I'm the one signed up to teach it....well, half of it. Tues-Thurs, 6 pm to 9 pm, I'll be online with graduate students! Fun times. 

Chitunga's on his way to Louisville, and Milford and Sue are heading to Ft. Myers to get warm for the winter months (jealous). The older I get, the more I feel it in my bones why people snow bird as they do. And I can't believe 2023 is right around the corner...we were just singing like we were partying in 1999, and now all that partying is in the rearview mirror. 

Okay, time to prep for the crazy.

In Honor of Her Birthday, I Did a Cynderballz! All Holiday Stuff Is Boxed, Put Away, And Over With. No Bah-Humbug...Just Happy Birthday, Cynde

The tradition has usually been to stick around Syracuse until Cynde's birthday on the 28th, but since I didn't have a Christmas this year, there was no sticking around. Instead, I sent a package via Amazon yesterday, and awoke to pretend I'm Cynde. Within minutes of the Christmas shenanigans being over, she has always wiped away the evidence as quickly as it went up. It'a a way to restore order for a new year. 

Now, I had my goods up the day after turkey, and I was counting down the days until I could drive to Syracuse and unwind with family. This, of course, was kidnapped by the flu-of-22, which finally seemed to step aside yesterday around 11 a.m.. Sitting up and not dying under a blanket on the couch, I decided, "Well, this year was a bust, and I proceeded to take down the tree, put away all the lights, and box the nativity set. I cleaned the first floor, sprayed Lysol in every room, and hopefully shocked the house's system from stomach crud, hacking, and phlegm. 

And as I did this I sang Happy Birthday to Cynde, channeling her order, cleanliness, and precision. As far as the eye can see, there is no evidence that the holidays were even a thing. I finally unwrapped the presents left by Chitunga and stored them away (a power washer for spring and a security camera that will take some research to install).

This will always be my favorite picture of my older sister: red curls and big, pink Barbie glasses. It's hard to get her to unwind and be silly, but when it happens, it's always a blast.

I'm thankful to Bev and Pam for dropping off a care package of Christmas dinners that I missed. I sat down and actually ate like a normal person (it felt good not to have to slurp from a bowl)

Safe travels...by this time tomorrow, the twins should be landing in Monrovia! First time back in 15 years.

Let there be cake! Happy Birthday, Cynde! I hope you enjoy the celebrations.

Why Shouldn't Tuesday Be Like Monday & the Last Week? Karal Seems to Love This New Lifestyle of Couch Potato Upon Couch

I successfully spent most of yesterday upright (even went for a long walk). The garbage moved up to my nose for most of the day, but then found its way back into my chest last night. The result? Well, back to the couch for soup, Theraflu, and blankets. Karal was thrilled. She's gotten way too used to this. 

Talked to Cynderballz, too, and she said, "Have you ever spent a week lying on a couch watching t.v.?" and I had to think about it. Nope. But I officially can announce to the universe that I spent an entire week under a blanket watching Netflix.

I have a story for generations to come.

And I've packaged the guilt in a bag to put away for a later date. I will unleash it eventually. 

But it is true...my t.v. has had more use this week than all the other weeks it's had in my house since it was first purchased. 

Here's hoping that today will be the day it finally leaves. I thought it was yesterday, but I relapsed.

Whaaaaaaaaaaa.

I did eat a cinnamon roll for dinner, however. That was nice. 

Meanwhile, Monday, in the Land of Soup and Chicken, Your Couch Has Never Appreciated Such Use....on the 7th Day and Counting

If today is like the last seven days, I will post this blog and immediately fall back to sleep on the couch...that is, after 10 hours of sleep. I can celebrate, however, that yesterday wasn't a day also spent in the bathroom. Whatever this is finally gave me a break.

Soup. Ginger Ale. Thera Flu. Repeat.

I am sitting up today, which is a nice change.

The good news is that also I saved on a week of gas (well, not personal gas - that turned catastrophic on most days). My car has sat in the same place without going further than Big Y for more medicine and soup for over a week.

And I know this is getting pretty old as far as morning reporting; not like there's much life going on with a head on a pillow and a blanket upon the lap...that's about it.

There were two red cardinals outside the window. They were entertaining for a short while. The one wasn't pleased to see the other and a chase ensued. 

I took a shower. Perhaps the best part of the day is coming out and rubbing Vics all over my chest, then I head back to the couch and sleep for a while. Good times. 

Netflix. Survival. Sleep. And Soup. 

And best travels, Abu & Lossine. They are traveling back to Liberia for the first time in 15 years. I wish them the best....I have gifts upon your return (hopefully by then this will be gone).

Merry Christmas, Everyone! May You Enjoy the Day with Loved Ones & Find Joy in the Company of Others

I think the two-week bug-diagnosis is about accurate, and I settled with finishing Dead to Me, eating wedding soup (thanks, Beth) and snacking on cookies (thanks, Pam). I also was fortunate to hear a reading of A Flake Like Mike and Dave the Cracker, before settling into an evening of coughing and Holiday cooking shows. Karal seemed to sense something was amok, as she made sure to keep my feet warm and brought me toys from her basket to share her love. 

I could hear cheer from the house of neighbors and even peep in from my upstairs windows, which was nothing voyeuristic, just something I noticed.

All was merry and bright, which it should be

Cynde read a Christmas poem and rhymed Yahtzee with Pepsi, and all was on par for usual.

I do hope, however, that when they did the "Brady" tree and had to hang "Bryan's" ornament, then there was a moment of instrumentation for cinematic effect knowing I was not  going to be there this year. 

I tell everyone that I get two days off a year and they are Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. I look forward to it year around, and it is always the goal of all the other days --- to make it home for Christmas. It hit me early in the week that I was not going to be healthy enough this year, but I did enjoy the lights in my house, the company of the dog, and knowing that Chitunga brought the sleigh up north for delivery without me (although I didn't nearly finish shopping....just ran out of steam). 

It's all good, as it is what it is.

Merry Christmas, Everyone! From our home, to yours.

Looking on the Bright Side. Sure, It's the Holidays, It's 2 Degrees Outside, and I'm Stuck on a Couch, But There's Dead To Me & It's Keeping Me Alive

I used to watch Christina Applegate on Married with Children because it used to come on near the Tracey Ullman Show. It was full of cheesy one liners, over-sexualized humor, and Ted Bundy shoe salesman jokes. It was a quite a dumb show, actually, but Applegate was sexy...hot...she played the part well. That was the purpose.

Last Friday, out with Harding teachers and administrators, they started talking about Dead to Me and I gave it a shot. Okay, I binged. I fell in love with the storyline, characterization, and performances. It's brilliant. I checked to see if Applegate has won any awards. No, this isn't Kelly Bundy....it's so much better. Her talents are remarkable and I've just been in awe. 

It's Patsy and Edwina, Laverne & Shirley, Kate & Ally, Frankie & Grace, Judy & Jen. Brilliant comedic performances portraying silliness, eccentricity, and twisted humor. I just love it.

And I needed the laugh/need the laugh. I want to sit down with the writers and simply learn how their brains work. This is probably not the greatest Christmas Eve post, but it is totally representing joy in my bizarre, comical position these last weeks of 2022. Kicked it off with Covid & and a cracked head, and ended it with burst kitchen pipes and the Flu from hell.

I think we all could use a few laughs. 

And so I'm laughing.

Last Night I Was Visited From the Tree of Christmas Past. Actually, It's This Weird Glow Effect from a Nighttime Photo. But Spirits Have Visted Me.

You know you've been sick when you high five ghosts in your house congratulating them for the success of making it 10 hours without a fart requiring a change of clothes. I also didn't wake up only to sleep for another 8 hours, either. Instead, I awoke hacking up chunks of porcupine that somehow burrowed into my chest. It came up like that all day long, and into the night. Fever came and went all day, appetite came back (good news, I have curly fries to survive the winter storm), and a few brain cells started to churning. In fact, I turned in grades, which I didn't foresee happening until Christmas Eve Day. 

Of course I'm cursing myself, too, because as I write this the intestinal gurgling is playing some sort of gastrula symphony. Music to my ears these day. Actually, the curtain opened and today's orchestration has begun. The band pit moved to the chest again.

I did bring packages downstairs to have under the tree, although they may simply lie dormant until all this passes. I'm considering it symbolism at this point. The gesture. The what-should-be. 

I should probably turn on the Weather Channel and catch up on all the doomsday predictions that are causing schools to close and governments to warn people from traveling. The Syracusian in me always raises a skeptical eye. I mean, it's not Watertown with a possible 4 feet with 65 miles an hour wind. Now that would be something to be afraid of, especially with freezing pipes and white-outs. That could get rough.

Newsflash. I think Bumble, the abdominal snowman has chosen not to leave after all (and that pun was by accident...love a good typo when it works).

I shall keep the tree lit all weekend so I have something to entertain me ... to shine a little light. Hoping the teary eyes, body aches, and phlegm tsunamis will subside, but I've thought that every day this week, haven't I?

Here's to last minute shoppers...I gave up the idea of fulfilling any holiday gifting a few weeks ago...no time, then the curse of this flu. Just riding it out as it comes...

...watching the ghost of a Christmas tree float above its presents.

and ready for another nap ... after all, I've been away for two hours. It's time.

Going for the Gold this Holiday Season, Wrapping up the Semester with Investments in the Medicine Aisle and Prayer that Soup Will Stay Down

I still find it remarkable that I can sleep 12 hours soundly, only to wake up and need another six hours of sleep on the couch. I awake, take more medicine, grade one project, then nap for a few more hours. And here we are on day #4.

Nostrils still clogged. Chest still aching. Muscles tired from coughing and aches in my head, despite all the hydration I've given this monster. I know. I know. But he blogs. Well, I have an addictive personality, and my routines are what they are.

I ran out of self-medications, so ventured out to Big Y to get more...I was hoping, too, that movement would stir things up some. It did not (except for my sweats fell to my ankles, but that's normal while grocery shopping). It just made me need another nap.

Don't worry. I put on my Michelin man army suit like the days of full-blown Covid. Anyone who saw me in that store would tell to stay away from me. I am oozing mucus goo from my every pore. 

But I can say that the graduate projects have trickled in slowly and as they did, I quickly graded them so I could return to the couch. I'm still determined to stay on top of the game, if it's at all possible.

The Lypton soup, too, was a good purchase, as I managed to keep it down. Everything else has wanted to leave my body as soon as it was digested. The soup at least waited until 3 a.m. before it rocket-launched from my body.

Yes, I've read every website imaginable about length of the disease, how long I might infect others, and when I can expect any of it to go away. Hoping the frigid cold coming down from Canada this weekend will crush it out of my system.

I'm an optimist. What else can I be? 

More rested. And that is what I shall do. I was praying I'd wake up this morning with good news. That, unfortunately, is not here. Just a gurgling chest, fever, and more exhaustion.

Another Day on the Couch, Another Box of Tissues, At Least 20 Hours of Sleep, But At Least Now My Brain is Out of Its Fog. God Bless, This Was Nasty

On Monday, I went to bed at 9 pm and slept until 8 a.m. - I came downstairs, made coffee, but didn't drink it. Instead, I slept on the couch until 4 in the afternoon, when I decided I needed a steaming hot shower and some soup. I took a shower, but didn't have any soup. I had no appetite. The shower tired me out so I slept until 7.

By 8 pm, I decided I should take a Covid test, because I want to be sure I don't have Covid before heading to Syracuse this weekend (I'm optimistic). The cough was severely bronchial, my head is in agony, and the sweats are at an all time high. I was soaked from the fever, but I think that was because whatever this crud is, it was working its way out of my system.

In the mean time, I haven't coughed this much ever, or been more clogged in nostrels, throat, or chest. If I was able to wrestle any thought, I'm sure they wouldn't go anywhere because my ears were plugged up, too. My muscles ache from all the coughing.

Okay, humpday...I'm simply going to ride you out to see how I begin to feel....hoping I get to the up and up. It's not starting out good, but at least I got toast down...but, I think it's time for another nap.