Muchas Gracias, Tribes ‘Peeps

January 4th, 2009

Dean and I took a breather during the long holiday season; the break was not intentional, well, a couple of days were, but the additional days without posts came about due to a plethora of reasons which Dean and I will address this work week.  We hope all of you had a restful, rewarding holiday.  Much, much thanks to all of you for loyally visiting and, well, letting us know you care, you really, really care, yeah…We yielded some very impressive, encouraging numbers during a sporadic period of time. The tribe is a tight bunch of Internet surfers and quick readers.  Below is proof, a behind the scenes report showing the number of Tribe visitors. ‘See you Monday; we’re back on it, son, we’re back on it.

-Dean & Owen

After Thought - Think about it, try and fit 207 people into your house on a peaceful Saturday.  Suave.  Also, I guess a lot of people were hung over on New Year’s Day.  For the first time in a long time I wasn’t.

Share This Post

Back From The Holiday Chill - Resolve

January 1st, 2009

Dean and I have been busy relaxing, shoveling snow, catching up with friends/family, and a dozen other things.  Happy New Year.  Feliz Nuevo Ano.  We’re back.  We’re disciplined, and we’ll be updating daily, once again.  There is much work to be done (as usual).

New Year’s Resolutions

In the spirit of this fresh, new year I’m resolving a few things that I hope I can realistically keep doing for more than just the five minutes it takes to read this:

1) I will stop worrying about the things I cannot change about friends, family, myself, and those people that I consider single serving friends (Fight Club reference). Accepting people and myself for who they are (I am) is probably the hardest thing to do, but worth it when you consider that even when you love someone you may not like everything about them.  Enough said.
2) I will exercise more.  This one is easy – it’s wrestling season.  I lose an average of about five to ten pounds during this brutal time of the year.  I set myself up for success here!  Go me.
3) I will enjoy the last full six months of my stay-at-home job with Jacob.  I am still looking forward to being on call with the little warrior for a bit more before the summertime. I hope to make each day count.
4) I will continue to hold my family as my highest priority.  I know this is not really a resolution since I already try to do it daily, but it is important to remain focused on them.  After all, not much else matters without Bridget and Jacob in my life.  They are my rocks.
5) Lastly, I will try to be a better man.  This one is also a constant in my life these days.  I have come a long way baby (Fat Boy Slim), but I still have a long way to go.  Maybe by the time I’m eighty I’ll be close to the best version of me that I can be.  Until then, I have to roll up my sleeves and get a little dirty.  Being a good man takes time, patience, and hard work.  REMEMBER THAT LAST ONE, fellow fathers and men alike.

THIS IS A SCARY NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTION LIST.  HOPE YOURS DOESN’T LOOK LIKE THIS ONE.  YIKES.

Next time:  Owen Scott Verde – Long Over Due

Resist. Multiply. Resolve.

Share This Post

Two New Warriors

December 26th, 2008

This past weekend I had the pleasure of spending my full day (7 am – 7 pm) in the Kearny High School gymnasium.  I was coaching high school wrestling, of course.  This time around I had two new wrestlers to get pretty excited about.  I’ve been a coach for almost nine years now.  It’s the best way to keep my hand in the sport that has given me so much.  Anyway, I have two wrestlers this year who are both tough as nails.  Physically they are strong and aggressive.  Mentally they are even tougher.  Nothing seems to rattle their cages when they go out on the mat to do battle.  It has been a lot of fun working with them so far.

In fact, they remind me of three other wrestlers I coached a few years earlier.  Two of these three former champions came to me as freshman.  I am still in close contact with them all.  Each one wrestled in college and I think they all plan to coach.  Actually, one is currently coaching right now.  I think that is the ultimate compliment.  It means, to me, that I made an impact, or at least did what I could for them.

Back to my point – not since I coached these guys have I had talent like I am seeing today.  I am lucky to be able to say that so soon after coaching such good wrestlers in my first four seasons at the school.  I am excited to see if these new guys can surpass the legacy left behind by my former stars.  Time will tell.

Until then, realize one thing:  As far as I am concerned it is not the winter season, or the holiday season – it’s wresting season.

Up Next: Cleaning Out The Fridge

Resist. Multiply. Wear Your Headgear.

Share This Post

Santa’s Account Executive

December 26th, 2008

Employee of The Month

Winner

Share This Post

Strummer Von Rudolph

December 26th, 2008

‘Tis The Season…

You got a problem with that?

Share This Post

Happy Holidays - Feliz Navidad

December 25th, 2008

Happy Chanukah.  Merry Christmas.  Feliz Navidad.  Enjoy the time with friends and family.

Up Next: Owen Makes Good & Two New Warriors

Resist. Multiply. Save Electricity?

Share This Post

Nino The Elf

December 25th, 2008

So the other day I decided it was time to share our Elf on a Shelf story with Jacob.  If you are unfamiliar with this tale, it is basically the story of an elf that visits your child during the holidays, watches to see if he/she is being good, and reports back to Santa each night.  Your job as the parent is to take the elf figurine and place it in different places in your home each morning before your son/daughter wakes up.  Neat idea, right?

Well, Jacob and I read the story and then I asked him what he wanted to name the elf.  He said, “Nino”.  Great, I thought, my son has created an Italian elf.  It seems fitting considering we live in a very Italian town.  I went with it.

So Bridget and I decided to use Nino in an unconventional way – as blackmail.  Whenever Jacob is misbehaving, we tell him that Nino is watching.  At first he straightened his act up right away.  Then after a few days, he grew wise to our plan.  He even decided to try and grab Nino – for what purpose I am still unsure of.  One day, Nino even ate lunch with us.  That was fun.

At any rate, I am pleased to have this new tradition in the Prescott house.  I am also really scared of this creepy little elf.  Take a look and see what I mean.  He reminds me of the clown in Poltergeist.  You know what I mean?

Up Next: Feliz Navidad

Resist. Multiply. Keep Your Eye On Nino The Elf.

Share This Post

Mathematics, Go Figure, Random Thoughts

December 24th, 2008

Dalton is only 4 months old, wow, already, and his belongings take up 2/3 of our house. I now have one small corner of the house to myself. His pack and play, Exersaucer, toys, blankets, changing table, and piles of clothes he has yet to wear have taken over.

“Back from the front with observation; it is too late.”
-Ian MacKaye

Dalton is only 1/3 of a year old; I’ve been breathing for 38 years now, but he seems a lot more content, and at ease than I am. He’s got it figured out. Regardless of the day, the time, the circumstance he breathes easy. As a species, where, when do we go wrong, losing those carefree, deep belly breathes?  If it is actually lost, then it can be found again. There’s some optimism for you.

I’ve got 456 months served on this rock we call Earth; I’m fortunate. I have plentiful friends and family; I used to be popular, but when I walk into a crowded room of friendly faces the 4 month veteran of life is the talk of the town, well, really the room, but the brother carries serious social clout.

If life is a mathematical formula, an algorithm, then it is executed in the eyes of an infant. The product, the sum, the difference, the dividend gleams divine in a pure 4 month version of myself.

At night, foolish as it sounds, I look into Dalton’s eyes, and intently investigate his iris, his pupil, looking for that enigmatic mathematician that some call God. Glimpses have been caught; it’s complicated. I’ve never been good at math.  Hopefully, Dalton will process the equation better than I have.

-Owen Scott Verde

Share This Post

Coming Around The Bend, Mick Jones

December 23rd, 2008

Stella has been sick.  Dalton has been sick.  The holidays, and the mad dash are upon us.  I’m preparing myself, my classroom, and our house was for the changing of the guard, Stella returning to work, and I beginning my leave of absence to tend to him.

So, I apologize for the recent delays when it comes to my posting.  As of today, sickness, holidays, business aside, I will have a simplified schedule, and will be on a strict writing regiment.

I hope you view me as Joe Strummer once viewed his temperamental, but talented band mate, Mick Jones.

“Talent, well, it’s worth waiting for.”

Thanks for the patience.  ‘Hope all is well! The stories are coming around the bend.

Share This Post

Sick-Out

December 21st, 2008

Sharing is caring – or at least that is what I’ve heard. This past week illness struck the Prescott family hard and Jacob and I fought off a nasty cold. Luckily Bridget remained well for the better part of the week, as she had a winter holiday concert to prepare for at school.

Monday started with a seal barking from Jacob’s room. I strapped him into his car seat and took him to the doctor, only to find out that he had the beginning stages of croup. The doc recommended a regime of steroids and I went to pick that up with the little man right after our visit.

If you’ve ever given your child steroids – which I imagine not too many of you have done this – then you will surely see some interesting things happen in the ensuing days. Jacob lost the croup cough after a few days, but he became wild and animated after the first day. He also became increasingly stronger. At one point he lifted the couch so I could get a ball that had gone underneath – just kidding.

Seriously though, the cough and steroid use was a bit out of the norm for the Prescott clan. Fortunately, all is well now. Jacob shared his illness with me – as I have tried to teach him to share. Thanks, little buddy.

Next Up: A Painting Tale, Bones, The Arsonist

Resist. Multiply. Do Steroids.

Share This Post

Holiday Stress

December 19th, 2008

I have found the holidays hit a high stress mode around ten or eleven days before the big day on the 25th.  Usually at this point we have all realized that there is something we still have to do with less and less time to do it.  This year is no exception, as I still have some last minute shopping to do for Bridget.  We have both decided that Jacob will not get so much from us this year, as it is probably the last year we can get away with that.  Wrapping paper and some small gifts will suffice as he finds much joy in opening gifts, instead of playing with them.  The grandparents can do the spoiling.

Just remember that as the stress may mount, the holidays are a time for family and friends.  The truth is that some of that can get lost with so much to do and so little time left to do it.  Remember to breathe, to enjoy the simply moments, and to not take everything so seriously.

That said, I have recently taped several holiday specials to show Jacob, as we get closer to XMAS.  ABC Family channel has a great bit of options when it comes to the holidays, and I am beginning to share these classics with the little man.  So far, he loves the Rankin and Bass specials with the old style puppets for Rudolph, Santa, the Heat Miser, Cold Miser, etc.  These specials take me back to the time when I was a small boy, too.  It’s fun to see Jacob “light up” when he sees Santa.  We even taught him to say, “Ho, ho, ho.”

Up Next: Sick Out

Resist. Multiply. Enjoy The Holidays.

Share This Post

Grandpa’s Karmic Sciatica - The Ripple (Finale)

December 19th, 2008

I have a steel rod in my left leg; it runs the entire length of my shin bone.  In my ankle there are two screws holding the rod in place.  In my knee there are two matching screws holding the top end of the rod in place.  Strummer has heavy duty, deep sea fishing line holding his left knee together for the remainder of his many years.

Strummer, The Deep Sea Fisherman

Last January, Strummer went under the knife for reconstructive surgery.  He blew out his left meniscus while, well, we don’t know exactly when, or how the injury took place, but it banged him up really good, and brought much concern to Stella and I.  There was no choice, surgery was necessary if he was ever to walk again.  We dropped him off at the veterinarian on a Thursday morning, and picked him up on a Friday night.  His recovery was hellacious, another entry down the road, but like myself he made it through, but there is a cost for such a traumatic experience, there always is.

Often, when just rising, or settling in for the night, Strummer limps around the house, favoring his left leg.  He has dark surgical scars, showing the world he is a survivor.  I, at times, walk with a slight limp, mostly, when I too am fatigued.  There are dark scars running down my left knee, and ankle.   Brothers in arms.  I’m made of titanium, Strummer is made up of fishing line.  Yet another life affirming, eerie connection, rippling through the interconnectedness that is mi vida loca.

Strummer, Owen, and Physical Therapy

While Grandpa’s sciatica acts up, leaving me sidelined from my triumphant, internal, spiritual, conquestal return to Muay Thai I write this intermittently between some of my physical therapy exercises.  A paragraph.  Some stretches.  Another paragraph.  Some more stretches.

For my fortieth birthday I want to travel to Thailand to train at a Muay Thai camp.  I want to train there for three weeks, proving to myself, to life, that I can age the way I want to.  They have different levels of intensity at training camps, the one I’m looking at caters to all levels of practitioners, ranging from fight preparation to weight loss programs, I’m in between, just where I want to be.

I hope the PT gets my back in shape within a month, so I can return to training, preparing for my journey overseas, and my trek into middle age.  I have a year and a half, but time is the most precious commodity in any one’s metaphysical portfolio.

Come this new year, Strummer will be going for PT.  His left leg never fully recovered.  The four legged brother is in need of some stretches and mending exercises as well.  I got a two week jump on him.

Karmic Ripples Finale

At night, when darkness falls and brings suburban silence with it, Strummer and I go for our therapeutic walks.  It is beneficial for my steel left shin, and his fishing line left knee.  Out of all the dogs, out of all the owners, out of all the potential injuries, out of all the legs (four for him, two for me), out of all the scars, out of all the slumbering neighborhoods to walk through, out of all the physical therapy exercises to perform…Strummer and I…there’s something going on behind the scenes…

Up Next: Holiday Stress

Resist. Mulitply. Stretch.

Share This Post

Grandpa’s Karmic Sciatica - The Ripple (second installment)

December 19th, 2008

Karma 101 - The Ripple

The man who saved my life was her cousin, and we’ve been working together for more than three years before I ever told her the story that shed light on the karmic ripple making it’s way towards me.  At a teacher’s workshop, ironically a writer’s seminar, we were asked to share a life changing experience that would inspire meaningful writing within ourselves and our students. So, I dusted off some memories, and easily came across the stand out one, “The Falling Off The Roof Incident With My Brother While Painting, Compound Fracture Thing”. It was a hit, all the lady folk were riveted, and maternally sympathetic.

Side Note - At workshops I’m usually the only male elementary school teacher in attendance.  It leaves me both at a disadvantage, all the cackling, and an advantage, the popularity of being the only dude on premise, in their eyes I’m Brad Pitt.  Not. Bad.

Back To It

At the end of the story, I mentioned the surgeon who put me back together, the altruistic doctor, who tended to my every need and concern.  Oh yeah, I didn’t have health insurance.  A big Oh yeah.  The man did the surgery, the post op. visits pro bono.  I owed him more than my leg.  I owed him more than my ability, the gift to walk again.  I owed him thousands, upon thousands of dollars, and he wiped the slate clean.  I mentioned his name, orthopedic surgeon Dr. Michael Moore located in Ridgewood, NJ.

Side Note 2

Dr. Michael Moore is the only real name used in all of my pieces.  Aliases have been invented to hide, protect guilty parties from embarrassment, and potential legal issues, but Dr. Michael Moore deserves to be mentioned; his honorable name deserves to be spoken.  Thanks Dr. Moore for my ability to easily walk around with Dalton in my arms.

Back To It 2

“Dr. Moore is my cousin.  I just had dinner with him three nights ago.  He told me your story. Oh my god, that was you.”, a fellow teacher said.

My female counterparts sitting around the lecture table were stunned, and locked in on the finale of the my story.

“Tell you’re cousin thanks, again.” I said, closing out the morning session.  Out of all the people, out of all the teachers, out all of the places to work, out of all the cousins, out all of the surgeons…there’s something going on behind the scenes…Ten years later I’m working with Dr. Moore’s cousin.

Karma 101

Next: Grandpa’s Karmic Sciatica - The Ripple (Finale)

Resist. Multiply. Thank You Dr. Moore.

Share This Post

Grandpa’s Karmic Sciatica - The Ripple (first installment)

December 15th, 2008

Primero Editor’s Note - Not for the faint of heart.

Check out Grandma below  - Ouch!

Grandpa Is Hurting

Periodically, my body gets banged up, like right now.  Annually, give or take a year, my lower back bothers me, well it does more than that, it shuts down the Owen Scott Verde party.  Lights out.  Last call.  Everything becomes an effort.  From getting in and out of your car, to tying your shoes, to walking a 75 pound boxer named Strummer, to picking up a newborn baby named Dalton from a low standing crib, to kicking Muay Thai pads with a nasty, whirlwind of a leg kick, to painting 10 hours for the past 5 Saturdays all become Herculean tasks eventually leading to a painful, painful tinge in the compromised area of my 38 year old body.

You’re health is everything.  Some time ago I had a traumatic painting experience that landed me, no pun intended, in the Emergency Room of a local hospital.  In laymen terms, I fell off a ladder that was resting on a 15 foot roof.  When I regained consciousness on a blood ridden lawn, my left leg was pointing in three different directions, oh yeah, and there was a large bone projecting out of my shin.  That violent day created several different, intermingled Karmic ripples that are just now reaching the millions of jade black zen rocks making up the shores of my soul.

A Five Minute Ambulance Ride Away

After lying in a sterile, gray, what is just is hospital for several days, high on every pharmaceutical concoction known to man, not knowing if I’m ever going to walk again, I came to a very simplistic, but not easy realization – You’re. Health. Is. Everything.  Ever since then I have known how valuable one’s health is; I have never taken it for granted, or at least tried not to.  Ever since those fateful days in the ICU (intensive care unit) my back and leg have occasionally flared up, leaving me in some pain from time to time.

I’m not sure if any of you have ever suffered from a back ailment, so I will provide you with an analogy – Your home’s well being is dependent on it’s sturdy cement foundation, well your spine is your body’s foundation.  If your home’s foundation is cracked, sagging, or under duress, well then it’s time to sell the house if you can find any sucker to buy it.  If you’re back is bothering you, especially the lower back then the rest of your body is in some sort of interdependent discomfort.  Breathing becomes a task, a sneeze will send shivers of pain down your legs, waking up in the morning, if you’re lucky enough to have caught some z’s during the uncomfortable night, is like creeping out of the coffin, tight and full of muscular tension.  You can’t sell, or trade up your spine.  I tried; it’s a tough market.

Right now, grandpa is hurting.

Segundo Editor’s Note - My friends and I refer to one another as Grandpa when in pain, complaining, or acting the b@#ch. For example, “Oh come on Grandpa, go tell your troubles to Jesus.”

Karma 101 - The Ripple

The man who saved my life was her cousin, and we’ve been working together for more than three years before I ever…

Tomorrow: Grandpa’s Karmic Sciatica (second installment)

Resist. Multiply. Don’t Fall Off Roofs.

Share This Post

Bones - The Man, The Myth etc…etc…

December 15th, 2008

The Man

Now, Bones is a married man, a married man with children.  Proof that change is possible.  Periodically, I bump into him, and marvel at how he has not changed, physically.  He’s still in amazing shape; his profession is that of a personal trainer, and he is his own walking advertisement.  It’s sort of like – Take a look at me, yep, I know what I’m doing. Do you want to make an appointment?

Now, we’re equal on many levels.  Physically, he still can destroy me, but we have the same concerns, worries revolving around young children, homes, mortgages, and the plethora of troubles time passed rests on your heart and soul.     

We shake hands, and exchange the obligatory questions and answers old friends share when they have not seen one another for a long time, maybe a “too long” period of time.  Bones has changed.  He’s mellowed.  I’ve changed.  I’ve mellowed.  We had to.  With that mellowing, dare I say life learned, earned wisdom, comes a price everyone initially has to pay, and settle up with the omnipotent bookkeeper that is life.  The cost is change, and the over whelming awkwardness that follows the initial:

“So, how are you?”
“How’s work?”
“How’s the family?”
“Hey, have you seen, or heard from fill in the blank?

Maybe it’s just that, we’re men now, not wreck less man-children with nothing hanging over our head but the following morning of recovery and recollection.  We don’t paint houses together anymore; we don’t share countless blue collar, bonding work hours.  Times change.  Men change.  Even Bones has to change.  The surface is the same, so is mine, pretty much, but the underlying soil is not as vital, and is not as capable of troublesome, late, late night adventures and the havoc left behind.

The Myth

Growing up Bones was a myth.  He graduated high school as I just entered, and the stories that circulated throughout the hallways were amazing, hard to believe, but after spending numerous summers with him, well they were more than unbelievable they were real.  I bared witness to some of them.  I participated, and ended up instigating some of them.  I’m proud to be a minor, minor character in the mythology of Bones.

The Legend

When I told some of my friends that summers were spent working with Bones, well I became a legend myself, a humble sidekick to the iconic Bones, as stated before a minor character in the epic story of the man himself, Bones.  A plethora of questions were asked, most of them foolish.  I guess with legend status comes hyperbole, and misinterpretation of simple facts and stories.  Most people thought Bones was crazy, but he really wasn’t; he just had a zest for life and it became contagious.   Some painted him a degenerate; he wasn’t, he just had a different set of social norms.  It’s safe to say he pushed the envelope with comedic conclusions.   As time has passed, and years moved along, the legend has grown becoming a staple in my hometown’s history and lore.  If you are a wrestler, a house painter, and a self-proclaimed lady-killer in The Lawn, my hometown, then you have heard of Bones, and his many, many international sorted tales.  Without knowing it you have been influenced by his life.

The Aftermath

I’m a slow start, a stunted learner so just now am I beginning to fully understand how the times spent with Bones has impacted me, both positively and negatively.   Undoubtedly, he has had a profound influence on me.  There are plenty of stories to sift through, and interpret.  I’m looking forward to the process, a self-diagnosis, a self-evaluation.  Freud and Bones would be proud. Hell, Freud could’ve reinvented himself and for the second time around change the thinking of modern man if he was to do a case study based on the doings of Bones.

Between Karaoke Mike, Lola, Zippy, Needle D, Trent, and an endless ensemble of individuals, some yet to be introduced to you good people, I think it’s safe to say, my social palette is a colorful one indeed.  

Next: Grandpa’s Sciatic Nerve Is Acting Up

Resist. Multiply. Thank Bones.

Share This Post