It’s An Odd Feeling Meeting People. Especially, When They Already Know You.

Every so often people read this blog.

I personally think this is a good thing.

The question: Why do they read it? The answer: I’m not sure.

It could be a sign of poor judgment. Or it could be they simply have too much free time.

Whatever the reason, I consider myself lucky.

Joe Pesci in GoodFellas.

Joe Pesci in GoodFellas.

It’s nice when people take a moment out of their busy days and stop by the Blog to read my thoughts.

Maybe it is comforting for them. Maybe my problems and issues help them put theirs in perspective.

If that’s the case, I am providing them a service.

You could even say I’m making the world a better place.

I’m doing my part to help heal the human spirit.

Ahh, who am I kidding?

I slop down the first thing that pops in my head and call it a blog.

People read it because they are wasting time at work instead of doing something productive.

That being said, something has happened with the people who read this blog.

No, they haven’t gotten dumber (although this isn’t out of the realm of possibility and is certainly up for discussion).

They know me.

Or at least they think they know me.

This realization smacked me upside the head during my trip to Washington D.C.

As I was introduced to people, they started to figure out who I was.

And they were shocked.

And possibly horrified.

And some quite disappointed.

I wasn’t what they expected.

They thought I would be taller, shorter, thinner, fatter, smarter, younger, older, and certainly wiser and… most of all…


Way funnier.

As in, “Say something funny Blog Boy.”

I believe the exact phrase went something like… “When I met you in person, I really expected you to make me laugh. And you don’t.”


My feelings would have been hurt, but luckily for me I’m a school administrator (dead inside… no feelings… in fact my middle name is Hollow).

Actually the pain (if I could feel it) was worth it.

It was a good lesson.

People who visit the Blog don’t really know me.

They read the blogs (or quickly and very politely scan them… while being prepared to hit minimize if their bosses walk by…) and come up with their own versions of what they think I am like.

And that version is way cooler than the real me.

Which is okay.

I just have to remember to not go out in public.

Or if I do, at least come up with something funny to say.

Because no one likes an unfunny Blog Boy.

Note from wife – aka: Editor in Chief – He is funny in person…VERY funny. But also quiet. And I must admit, it is a little disturbing that he is now referring to himself as “Blog Boy”. If you ask me it’s just a matter of time before he starts wearing a cape and tights… and makes Buddy the Dog his faithful sidekick.

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Proof That Readers are Much Funnier Than I Am.

After I post a blog, I receive comments and emails from readers around the world (turns out poor taste knows no boundaries).

Surprisingly, most comments are well thought out and the authors have something to add to a blog.

But, I especially enjoy the ones from people who are borderline lightweight crazy. Don’t get me wrong, these aren’t from full-fledged standing outside my bedroom window, wearing snow boots and a top hat, smoking a candy cigarette through the mouth hole of a hockey mask crazy.

Although, it would be nice if these people also took an interest in reading more.

The one thing that most responses have in common is they are generally funnier than my original post.Not This is Funny.

This one is a great example of that.

It was written in response to my blog, “FORGET THE GAME, WATCH THE PARENTS“.

The author is Angie Bicknell from Forth Worth, Texas. She is working on her doctorate, which also proves that there is no direct correlation between the amount of education you have to your good taste in blogs.

But, we won’t hold that against her, or the fact that she was a cheerleading sponsor (I actually respect her for surviving that… 10 years… you are a glutton for punishment… and by respect I mean of course… pity).

I also feel a certain kinship to her because she uses my patented “looking busy” move (more on that in her response). This particular move has gotten me through a thousand awkward moments in public when I don’t want to stop and talk to students, alumni, or anyone else I am avoiding (the list is too long to get into here).

In my estimation, she is not only funny but a good mom. Also, I think this story should be printed on the back of every program at any event where parents gather to cheer, boo, scream, yell instruction from the stands, complain about coaches or referees, and form a tunnel so their children feel important.


My son just started soccer (5 years old-played 3 games).

The first game he got hit somehow. I didn’t see it, just noticed him holding his face. We made eye contact (big mistake) and then – in the middle of the game-came running off the field crying.

I tried to push him back him (at this point my husband called me “cold-hearted.”) and told him he couldn’t just leave the field when he wanted.

The good news is that he hasn’t done it the past two games, so I think he got the message.

My husband and I are definitely in the first category. We hate the tunnel hand thing.

We refuse to do it. I pack up the chairs (look busy) to avoid eye contact with the weirdo’s who will yell at me to get out on the field and make a tunnel! Not doing it.

I love my child and everything, but isn’t actually signing him up, paying the fee, buying shorts and socks and cleats and taking him to practice and games every week enough?

I’m even willing to provide “snacks” (i.e.: sugar) whenever I’m told to.

I will not tunnel or paint my car or buy a fake soccer ball that looks like it busted through your windshield thing.

My son needs to understand that, while I love him tremendously and it’s all about him for one hour on Saturdays, the rest of the world does not revolve around him.

And-even more important- the outcome of the game will not be rehashed at home for 3 hours so he can “improve his skills.”

The author is quite possibly the smartest parent I have never met (hard to tell for sure, since I haven’t not not met everyone). You can read more thoughts by visiting her blog, Human Voices Wake Us.

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While this site operates with the knowledge and awareness of the Tuscola CUSD #301 School Board, Tuscola, Illinois, the content and opinions posted here may or may not represent their views personally or collectively, nor does it attempt to represent the official viewpoint of Tuscola CUSD #301 administrators or employees.