Dad always offered his professional service as a pharmacist of “taking care” of pets that had outlived their welcome here on earth. Oscar was Christine Jeep’s daschund, affectionately called the dawg with amnesia, who would forget who its friends were. It would just bite you seconds after loving you.
Dad left some clothes with some friends, but took important keys.
Dad wrote on every postcard he ever sent: The weather is here, wish you were beautiful.
3 John
Do good; avoid evil. 1:11
I said this more often than I’m proud of while I was playing educator. It just echoes in my head, having heard it from Dad so much. I never knew it was holy scripture.
BIST stands for Behavior Intervention Support Team.
BIST.org is their website. Marty Hewett is their charisma.
I worked two years at De La Salle Middle School at St. Matthew’s in north St. Louis, MO, as a BIST interventionist. My title was as flexible as my job description, but I always preferred Behavior Coach. I am now contacting BIST to see if there are opportunities to create.
I am reading through my extensive notes on all that happened in my head during my two years at De La Salle. I’m not as interesting as I thought it would be. Hans had told me that there is a period of time that must pass before reading one’s own journaling is intriguing. I guess I haven’t changed enough or forgotten enough. Maybe I should read my journal from the Novitiate, or from grade school…. or my past blogs
I did come across this quote, which inspired the blog:
A coach is someone who tells you what you don’t want to hear, makes you do what you don’t want to do, so you can become what you want to be.
Dad called me “Coach” after he visited me at Holy Cross School in New Orleans. All these high schoolers were calling me Coach and respecting my commands. His face showed pride in me, which I’ll never forget.
Found: Missouri mini license plate from 1962. BA7 606 (feb)
Was this his car, or his dad’s?
this link shows a similar item on ebay.
http://i8.ebayimg.com/01/i/08/23/04/98_1.JPG
Visualize John Gerwitz, working at Riverview pharmacy, with a phone in each ear, and talking to a customer. Next see Greg Pitlick, a youth mopping the floor, watching with amusing awe as John unintentionally steps his entire foot into the full mop bucket, steps out, and continues multitasking without a glitch.
“I don’t know if he knows he even did that!” - Greg Pitlick
Dad left me this deed you see… piece of land, of history, of marketing???
http://www.scripophily.net/klonbiginlan.html
Hilarious. He continues to crack me up, even from the grave.
Dad and I went to the grumpiest doctor in St. Louis. He was supposedly the best sports doctor around. He had worked on professional athletes here in St. Louis. There were pictures of Cardinal’s pitchers and some Blues players in the room.
Dad pulls off his sock and I’ll never forget the look on his face as he “discovers” that his middle toenail is painted green. He looks at me and says: “I’m going to tell him that you did it.” “The heck you are,” I wittily reply. “I’ll deny it.” Dad says in his typical way, “Oh Man…. Julie, I’ll get you for this.” “She did it while I was sleeping.”
“Yeah right, Dad.” I retort.
The grumpy doctor walks in, groans that we are both in the room trying to get medical examinations under one bill, does it anyway, staring right at Dad’s painted toenail, with no comment. Dad and I laughed until our stomachs hurt over that one.
and then I found 32 dollars.
As a professional mixer, Dad knew the best way to blend anything. He taught me to use a circular motion, spooning from the bottom to the top when blending my grits.
Imagine the man shaking a ketchup bottle upside down over his head. What\’s all the fuss about in the people around him? The ketchup bottle was unknowingly open.