Monday, August 31, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
PsYcHo-DeLiC nEwS
VILLAGERS STORM POST OFFICE WITH PITCH FORKS AND TORCHES
A series of events, like a pebble cast upon a pond, causes ripples. This is one such story, which happened in a tiny community in the Garden State.
Behind it all, is the callous disregard the school district shows towards the parents, and by extension the students. All they wanted is to know who their children’s teachers were so they could get ready for school. Each grade, and each teacher, requires specific materials, as directed by the testing of the year to check competencies. (We should be checking for creativity, problem solving, imagination, and the arts; instead we look for benchmarks that have been prepared by administrators who are sitting on their best intentions, but that’s another story.) The schools don’t want to deal with the outcry of parents, who work to pay their very salaries. And due to a mistake, not caught by postal carrier (who was covering the route for the regular letter carrier), a tray of mail was mislaid. Numerous calls to the confused and befuddled Postmaster, who never received more than 2 calls in any day, threw the office into a state of manic, unfocused energy, and as a result, the mail was unfound, but more importantly, undelivered.
Jamie Quirk was not one to take things quietly. She was head of a powerful block association that gathers every morning, to discuss the state of affairs. She was not pleased. The temporary deliverer of the mail said there was a tray of mail missing and drove feverously off, in the direction of the Post Office, to locate aforementioned tray. She had returned, to deliver the junk mail, and said they (hopefully meaning the infamous mail police) were investigating.
Jamie called once, explained the situation, in a calm and direct Staten Island way, and expected something to be done directly also. She then informed the rest of her organization of her progress.
LATER ON FRIDAY AFTERNOON
There was no further delivery of mail. At 5pm, as detectives were later able to determine, another call was received at the Post Office. Jamie, once again, explained the situation. The person at the other end of the phone had no idea that this was going on! Jamie was told not to worry. We’re the Post Office”, said the official confidently and then she quoted the Greek historian, Herodotus, "Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night stays these courageous couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds".
SATURDAY
Every one on the quiet street was anxiously awaiting the mail. People were walking past their living room windows more than usual, peering out. Some kept walking out toward the mail box, walking slowly back, shaking their heads, empty-handed.
Jamie had to know what was going on. In addition to involving her husband, she kept calling other members and their husbands into getting involved. All the men wanted to do, was, well, that’s another story, but, none the less, they were being slowly dragged in.
Around 1:47pm, as the puzzle was being put together later, the white truck pulled onto the block. It crept up the block, up to each house, going up the hill, toward the sun. The sound of the engine grew louder, as it came down the hill. As it turned the corner, husbands ran down the hill, with Mr. Mac Murphy sustaining a rather large, purplish blacktop burn due to sliding on the slick pavement. The sudden stop of hitting the telephone pole didn’t help, as he managed to slide hip first into it. The medics have said he will be cleared to come home in a few days, after the wound has been cleaned and dressed. As a precaution, he is being flown by helicopter to Special Hospital For Surgery.
The Post Master was on his private 32 ft baby, coasting up down from Seaside towards Point Pleasant, unaware he was part of a National News Story. For Jamie, was not one to be trifled with. She was not Block President for nothing. And she had an army behind her. When her husband went to work, so did she.
She called the women and their families over for a BBQ. Her plan was to wine and dine them, as her prowess in the kitchen was legendary. She called up a few baby sitters, so the parents could listen, as she told them of the next move in the chess match, and the ultimate goal. To get the mail, and the legendary school letter which held the promise of creative learning and endless discussions over homework, such as why do we have so much, why can’t I do it later, why do my teachers hate me, and the ever famous, but so and so mom’s says she doesn’t have to finish it all, why then oh why I do I. But that’s another story.
A few of the husbands, Air, Sky, The Kid brought over their favorite liquid lubrications, which should never be mixed together, and Jamie, being a former mixologist at Studio 54, was cooking up Fuzzy Navels, Slo Gin Fizzes, and Alabama Slammers. By dusk, the crowd, which grew to include the parents of the surrounding blocks, do what unruly crowds do, when faced with such a crisis in the lives of their precious kids.
They went into garages and into their sheds. They raided patios and decks. They headed toward Target, Wal-Mart, K-Mart, Lowe’s and Home Depot. They headed to local hardware stores, who all believed that Christmas had come in August. And they bought, took, stole, and acquired all the Tiki torches and pitch forks in the land. And they headed down the block together like never before, to the Post Office they go. Also lost in all of this, was the voice of reason.
SUNDAY MORNING
The road would have to be closed till morning, due to the massive clean up. The Sheriff wanted to ask for volunteers, but most of the possible recruits were lying on the ground, soaking wet, face down, in the mud, handcuffed and didn’t seem inclined to help. A few were over by the ambulances, being treated for various scrapes and abrasions. Sally Jenkins was bring treated for broken ribs, as the force of the water through the fire hose caused her to fly into The Kid, who slammed into a parked car, where he injured his back. He was lying in the ambulance, helping himself to the Nitrous Oxide they had taken instead of the oxygen tank.
The pitch forks were stacked in piles and burned by the few torches still let. The rest lie smoldering on the battlefield. It was a rather easy victory for the Police. A few smart parents dropped their torches and ran when they were asked tp stand down by the 6ft 7inc, former starting offensive tackle for the local football team and most intimidating officer on the force. The rest chanting, “We want our bloody school letters”, kept marching. The shit hit the fan when Jamie, who had had enough with being “madam-ed” by Chief of Police Tinkler, lit his uniform jacket on fire, by putting the touch to the back of it. Fire Marshall Bill turned the hoses on The Chief and Jamie. Then the gathered throng rushed forward with all the calm and rational thinking of a European Soccer crowd.
As there was no damage done to the facility, or any officer harmed, except for the Chief who is recovering from second degree ass-burns and has to sit on a do-nut for the next 6 weeks. No charges were filed, however Jamie was stripped of her title and cannot even participate in the school annual Baking Cookoff and Sale. Thus, did die her plans to storm the Offices of the Superintendent and all schools, while chanting,
“We don't need no education
We dont need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom
Teachers leave them kids alone
Hey! Teachers! Leave them kids alone!
All in all it's just another brick in the wall.
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.”
And all of this happened to avoid interaction with the taxpayers and a mistake, since the mail tray was found; it was switched with a tray of outgoing mail and went back to a central facility. It was delivered, on time, to each home early Monday afternoon.
A series of events, like a pebble cast upon a pond, causes ripples. This is one such story, which happened in a tiny community in the Garden State.
Behind it all, is the callous disregard the school district shows towards the parents, and by extension the students. All they wanted is to know who their children’s teachers were so they could get ready for school. Each grade, and each teacher, requires specific materials, as directed by the testing of the year to check competencies. (We should be checking for creativity, problem solving, imagination, and the arts; instead we look for benchmarks that have been prepared by administrators who are sitting on their best intentions, but that’s another story.) The schools don’t want to deal with the outcry of parents, who work to pay their very salaries. And due to a mistake, not caught by postal carrier (who was covering the route for the regular letter carrier), a tray of mail was mislaid. Numerous calls to the confused and befuddled Postmaster, who never received more than 2 calls in any day, threw the office into a state of manic, unfocused energy, and as a result, the mail was unfound, but more importantly, undelivered.
Jamie Quirk was not one to take things quietly. She was head of a powerful block association that gathers every morning, to discuss the state of affairs. She was not pleased. The temporary deliverer of the mail said there was a tray of mail missing and drove feverously off, in the direction of the Post Office, to locate aforementioned tray. She had returned, to deliver the junk mail, and said they (hopefully meaning the infamous mail police) were investigating.
Jamie called once, explained the situation, in a calm and direct Staten Island way, and expected something to be done directly also. She then informed the rest of her organization of her progress.
LATER ON FRIDAY AFTERNOON
There was no further delivery of mail. At 5pm, as detectives were later able to determine, another call was received at the Post Office. Jamie, once again, explained the situation. The person at the other end of the phone had no idea that this was going on! Jamie was told not to worry. We’re the Post Office”, said the official confidently and then she quoted the Greek historian, Herodotus, "Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night stays these courageous couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds".
SATURDAY
Every one on the quiet street was anxiously awaiting the mail. People were walking past their living room windows more than usual, peering out. Some kept walking out toward the mail box, walking slowly back, shaking their heads, empty-handed.
Jamie had to know what was going on. In addition to involving her husband, she kept calling other members and their husbands into getting involved. All the men wanted to do, was, well, that’s another story, but, none the less, they were being slowly dragged in.
Around 1:47pm, as the puzzle was being put together later, the white truck pulled onto the block. It crept up the block, up to each house, going up the hill, toward the sun. The sound of the engine grew louder, as it came down the hill. As it turned the corner, husbands ran down the hill, with Mr. Mac Murphy sustaining a rather large, purplish blacktop burn due to sliding on the slick pavement. The sudden stop of hitting the telephone pole didn’t help, as he managed to slide hip first into it. The medics have said he will be cleared to come home in a few days, after the wound has been cleaned and dressed. As a precaution, he is being flown by helicopter to Special Hospital For Surgery.
The Post Master was on his private 32 ft baby, coasting up down from Seaside towards Point Pleasant, unaware he was part of a National News Story. For Jamie, was not one to be trifled with. She was not Block President for nothing. And she had an army behind her. When her husband went to work, so did she.
She called the women and their families over for a BBQ. Her plan was to wine and dine them, as her prowess in the kitchen was legendary. She called up a few baby sitters, so the parents could listen, as she told them of the next move in the chess match, and the ultimate goal. To get the mail, and the legendary school letter which held the promise of creative learning and endless discussions over homework, such as why do we have so much, why can’t I do it later, why do my teachers hate me, and the ever famous, but so and so mom’s says she doesn’t have to finish it all, why then oh why I do I. But that’s another story.
A few of the husbands, Air, Sky, The Kid brought over their favorite liquid lubrications, which should never be mixed together, and Jamie, being a former mixologist at Studio 54, was cooking up Fuzzy Navels, Slo Gin Fizzes, and Alabama Slammers. By dusk, the crowd, which grew to include the parents of the surrounding blocks, do what unruly crowds do, when faced with such a crisis in the lives of their precious kids.
They went into garages and into their sheds. They raided patios and decks. They headed toward Target, Wal-Mart, K-Mart, Lowe’s and Home Depot. They headed to local hardware stores, who all believed that Christmas had come in August. And they bought, took, stole, and acquired all the Tiki torches and pitch forks in the land. And they headed down the block together like never before, to the Post Office they go. Also lost in all of this, was the voice of reason.
SUNDAY MORNING
The road would have to be closed till morning, due to the massive clean up. The Sheriff wanted to ask for volunteers, but most of the possible recruits were lying on the ground, soaking wet, face down, in the mud, handcuffed and didn’t seem inclined to help. A few were over by the ambulances, being treated for various scrapes and abrasions. Sally Jenkins was bring treated for broken ribs, as the force of the water through the fire hose caused her to fly into The Kid, who slammed into a parked car, where he injured his back. He was lying in the ambulance, helping himself to the Nitrous Oxide they had taken instead of the oxygen tank.
The pitch forks were stacked in piles and burned by the few torches still let. The rest lie smoldering on the battlefield. It was a rather easy victory for the Police. A few smart parents dropped their torches and ran when they were asked tp stand down by the 6ft 7inc, former starting offensive tackle for the local football team and most intimidating officer on the force. The rest chanting, “We want our bloody school letters”, kept marching. The shit hit the fan when Jamie, who had had enough with being “madam-ed” by Chief of Police Tinkler, lit his uniform jacket on fire, by putting the touch to the back of it. Fire Marshall Bill turned the hoses on The Chief and Jamie. Then the gathered throng rushed forward with all the calm and rational thinking of a European Soccer crowd.
As there was no damage done to the facility, or any officer harmed, except for the Chief who is recovering from second degree ass-burns and has to sit on a do-nut for the next 6 weeks. No charges were filed, however Jamie was stripped of her title and cannot even participate in the school annual Baking Cookoff and Sale. Thus, did die her plans to storm the Offices of the Superintendent and all schools, while chanting,
“We don't need no education
We dont need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom
Teachers leave them kids alone
Hey! Teachers! Leave them kids alone!
All in all it's just another brick in the wall.
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.”
And all of this happened to avoid interaction with the taxpayers and a mistake, since the mail tray was found; it was switched with a tray of outgoing mail and went back to a central facility. It was delivered, on time, to each home early Monday afternoon.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
A Brick Bandits Interview: A Few Minutes With Darnell Stapleton
Darnell Stapleton Super Bowl Champion with Mike V. CEO Brick Bandits
When you first meet Darnell Stapleton, you meet a young man who is deeply committed to his community, be it his hometown of Union, NJ, or his teammates out in Pittsburgh. A graduate of Union High School in 2003 and of Rutgers University, where he earned a BA in Labor Studies and Management, his road to NFL success has not been easy. An un-drafted free agent who had “8 or 9 teams call after the draft, looking to sign me”, he chose the Pittsburgh Steelers. Through hard work, attention to details and a commitment to his dreams, he was the starter at Right Guard for the Super Bowl Champions.
Mike V, CEO of Brick Bandits talked about how he first met Darnell when they moved in down the block. “He was the first neighbor who came over to meet us. He told us, if we needed anything to talk to him.” This impressed Mike because the spirit of neighbor, of being a part of the community, is one of the driving forces of Brick Bandits.
Darnell is a role model and it a role that suits him. He spends the off-season in the home he grew up in, going to elementary schools in the area and talking to the kids. His message is a simple, yet powerful one, “never give up on yourself.” As a student, Darnell’s favorite subject was Math and his favorite teachers were his gym teachers, who, in his words, “took care of me.”
After High school and before his time at Rutgers, he attended Hudson Valley Community College to “get his grades straight” since he wanted to attend a Division 1 school. This dedication to education shows he values developing his mind as well as his football skills.
When asked about his NFL career, he is very humble. He spoke about how Center Jeff Hartings helped him in his first year learn about life as a Professional Football player. As a rookie, he had to do the usual stuff, like carry the vet’s pads during training camp, buying breakfast for his fellow lineman on Saturdays, and paying for dinner at the end of the season,. (“I dropped about $15,000.00 on that meal”, he chuckled). He has met former Pro-Bowl Center Dermontti Dawson (one his favorite players) and Mel Blount. When asked about the past Steelers, he said the attitude is “once a Steeler, always a Steeler”, so the players from the past are always there, willing to talk to the players and help them out with words of advice and encouragement.
And here are a few bricks that make him who he is:
Favorite Foods: Gyro’s Pizza and Burger King (Double Whopper with Cheese, no onions)
Favorite Music: Rap, R&B, and Reggee (“ I find it very relaxing”), and will listen to anything. As he pointed out, his teammates come from all over the US and everyone exposes each other to what their favorites are
Favorite Movies: “Coming To America” & “The Last Dragon”
Favorite Toy Growing Up: Nintendo, especially the Duck Hunt Game and Track & Field, with the finger pads
Favorite Superhero: Superman (who is also Mike V’s favorite)
4 People from History who he’d like to have dinner with:
President Obama
Dermontti Dawson
Martin Luther King Jr.
His Grandmother on his father’s side (“I never met her, as she passed before I was born”, he said. “I want to find out about what they had to go through and how they did it.” He is very close to his other Grandma, who calls him with words of encouragement and is an inspiration to him.)
Hobbies during the Season: Video Games
In The Off-Season : Video Games and Golf (I’m hooked on Golf. Ping set me up with custom clubs (due to his size). I like the game because you can play like trash one day and the next, I got an eagle & a birdie.”)
As for the future, he’d like to get into coaching once his career is over (hopefully a long time from now). And even though he did not give a reason, it would be safe to say that as a student of the game, it would be his way to help others and be a part of the game he loves to play.
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