Sometimes You Feel Like Screaming!

Ok ok - I know, it sounds like I may be a bit upset.  Maybe a little angry.  Ok - a lot angry.  You know those days - you go home after a day of nothing going your way and nothing working right, only to discover the dog has just crapped in your walking shoes and the cat has hacked up a hairball in your underwear drawer, the kids wont have nothing to do with you, and your spouse has this funny idea that you are now a fashion expert, no matter how thin that dress may make her look, nothing you are going to say will convince them, and you end up sleeping in the neighbors doghouse because your in laws arrived unexpectedly at your doorstep leaving YOU with nowhere else TO sleep.  We all have them, we all get frustrated tired just plain sick of those feelings, and for awhile I have been avoiding those pent up frustrations.  Until today.

Hear me out.  This is not really a life or death issue, but rather one of those "challenges" that we get dropped in our laps that will work out, at some point, but it just was not the right time for this to happen.  And, while this is not anything super critical (like an organ transplant!) or even one of those life altering things (like your wife kicking you out of the house wanting a divorce for that "magazine" on your desk) but in my world, this is one of those things that I could have just as soon done without for the next 10 years!

In a word - my Harley has died.  Yes - the one possession that I value more than some of my vital organs, more than both of my legs, heck even more than my left brain! I went to an Iowa National Guard Send Off Ride with the Patriot Guard this morning.  Everything was going smoothly, even God blessed us with cooler temps and milder weather.  Some of us decided to escort the buses loaded with soldiers partway to the edge of town.  We pulled aside, let the buses continue their journey to St Louis.  Everything was fine UNTIL.  Its always UNTIL isn't it.  I had gotten to the end of the ramp, turned right, headed towards home, and about halfway to the next light I felt the bike shudder a bit.  As I turned north, I began to hear noises I do not normally hear out of the engine.  Loud clanking banging noises of metal to metal.  The bike was still running, and I was only a mile from home, so I gingerly made my way home on the side of the street just barely cracking the throttle enough to maintain some speed.  I looked for traces of oil on the driveway, but no clues were there.

There are two thoughts that come to mind.  I am glad I was very close to home, or else getting the bike home at all would have been impossible.  Two - after spending money on vacations, dentists, and truck repairs, I have little resources left to effect a major repair of this sort.  In short - I will be making payments for a bike that won't run.  I have lost a large portion of the contract work I normally do, and have suffered thru several other lost income situations that are making things a bit tight.  Its almost as if Old Man Murphy was using me for a Beta Tester.  Anything that CAN go wrong has gone wrong and will continue to do so until morale improves or the Second Coming is at hand!

I guess I could look on the bright side - at least I was not on one of those buses with those soldiers. Sometimes though, you just feel like screaming!

The New Path Ahead

Well, after 17 years of whining and complaining at each other, Mary and I FINALLY took a much needed way too long overdue vacation.  Since we are both NASCAR nuts, we decided Daytona Beach looked good.  After all - it is NOT a cornfield!  I know some of my Iowa friends might take exception to that, but the hard reality is I am used to seeing trees, mountains, oceans, scenery.  I mean, a cornfield smells pretty sweet in the summer (almost nauseatingly sweet!) but to a farmer that's just the smell of money, and I am not a farmer.  Same goes for the smell of hog lots, cattle ranches, and chicken lots.  To farmers its all about the smell of money.  ME?  I'd much rather smell the fresh ocean air, or the smell of lilacs in the spring, or maybe even the smell of roses in June in Oregon.

We learned a lot of lessons on this trip.  The hotel was not exactly stellar.  In fact, it was about the worst one I have been in.  We stayed in Jacksonville to stay away from the race crowds, but in the end even that turned out to be a mistake.  Our truck started having some brake issues coming into Atlanta from the Cumberland Mountains, and trying to find an english speaking mechanic was next to impossible.  By the time we made it home, my patience with car dealerships and mechanics was all but gone.  In the end a faulty seal on the fluid reservoir seems to be the culprit, but it took some time to locate the problem.  We did have fun, particularly seeing Dale Jr. win, but looking back, we found a lot of problems we did not anticipate.  We are starting to plot a trip for next year, just not sure where we are headed.  Plenty of time to plan those nightmares!

Took some time on the bike after we got back.  Needed a little ME time, after all, I had been with my wife for a week, and my bike had been safely tucked away in the garage 1200 miles away.  Ran up to LaCrosse, Wisconsin, then over to Rochester, Minnesota.  It was a beautiful ride, well over 400 miles in a day.  My biggest issue:  the seat on the bike is getting, well, bad.  I had about the worst case of saddle sore on my tukus!  Well, after using up our savings on the trip, I guess a new seat will have to wait until next riding season as will the motorcycle luggage bag I wanted.  The trip to Florida was immensely important and I put off some things to help pay for it.  I guess maybe I should find a pillow for my tail end for now?

Life, as it seems, has a funny and often peculiar way of reminding us that we are just not in charge of our lives.  No matter how much we want to control the direction we go, it just never seems to work out the way we planned.  This year is no different.  During our trip to Florida, Mary and I discussed our future and what direction we want to go, and after some wrestling with finances and trying to figure out this that and Melissa, I decided the next step for me was to get some idea of how far I am towards my Bachelors Degree.  With the housing market slowing more than expected, and not getting any contract work I am used to seeing, it seems the right time to at least apply and see where I stand.  Stay tuned for further details, but if it works out, maybe that goal I set in 1993 might get put on the front burner!

In the words of Ringo - Peace and Love everyone!

A Celebration of Life

Its summer.  I know thats obvious, especially the last couple days in Iowa when temps and head indeces are over the top.  Yesterday, for instance, I took some time to go to the annual J & P Cycles Open House. After all, whats 40 miles to a biker right?  By the time I got home I felt like the Thanksgiving Turkey in the deep fryer.  If I could have I would have rode darn near naked back home, but thats just not right.  There would be too many scarred eyeballs out there if they ever looked at my hide in the buff!

I did get a chance to shake hands with a legend yesterday.  Arlen Ness, custom bike builder and pretty much everything motorcycle, Arlen took time to be a part of the Open House yesterday.  As luck would have it, I shook his hand, thanked him generously for coming, and tried to let him cool off a bit, for as hot as it was outside, it was even worse inside.  He took it in stride, however, and took as many breaks as he could.  I have read about his motorcycles since my navy days, and some of his designs are just breathtaking.  His son, Cory, was there as well, and has become a master custom bike builder in his own right.  Both men were extremely generous with the crowds, and showed a lot of patience dealing with the heat.  If only I were that patient!!!

A couple weeks ago my wife and I celebrated an anniversary.  June 13th to be exact.  For some folks its another year and maybe another day to remember, but for us this marked our 25th year of marriage.  It is a big milestone for us, in part because we have had those who felt our marriage would not last, in part because we have made a number of mistakes in our marriage which might cause ordinary folks to go screaming for medication, and in part because even we had our doubts from time to time.  Our resolve and our dedication to each other won out, and it has given us newfound admiration and love for each other.  We will celebrate this year with more love and devotion, but we celebrate cautiously optimistic for our future.  We have had many downs and not many ups, but through it all we have remained steadfastly devoted to each other and to our lives as a couple.  In this day and age, 25 years seems to be a rare accomplishment.  I hope that others can find the same love Mary and I share, for it is indeed a true gift from God!

Stay Cool folks - Have a Happy Fourth of July, and may we honor our independence safely!!!

The Stone

It has been a few months since I really posted anything. Work, work, and more work, and when I’m done, let’s work some more. All work and no play syndrome, so to speak. And then when you think you might have some time to kill, up pops that dreaded “hunny do” list. Unfortunately, I am only skilled at a certain number of things, but some of those hunnydos are a bit out of my league. In all fairness, though, I enjoy a challenge because I get to learn something from each task.

Last weekend was Memorial Day. In the last several years I have come to the realization that some Americans think this is just another cause to drink beyond reason. The smell of BBQ grills light the senses, too, and for many it’s a day off much needed from the daily grind. For me as a veteran, however, Memorial Weekend is that time to honor those who have given their sacrifice in pursuit of freedom. This year is no exception. As a member of the Patriot Guard Riders, it is an almost daily ritual of honoring those who served or are serving, and giving of our time unselfishly in support of those who defend our freedoms as Americans. I was asked why I give my time to such a cause when “someone else can always do that”, and to that I replied “Because it’s ok to protest the actions of our government, but don’t ever forget those who pay the ultimate price”.

Two men from Iowa who have died in Afghanistan this year I have paid honor to. The first is a 53 year old command sergeant major from a little torn called Reinbeck. John LaBorde, age 53, passed away from non combat related injuries at the Kandahar Airfield April 10th. Attending his funeral were about 40 of the Patriot Guard Riders. I had done military funerals before, but this one seemed a bit different to me. Now I am a civilian, and it felt like I was outside looking in. For the family, just having someone pay honor and respect to their loved one means so much, even if it is for a brief instant. Every family member took time to thank each of the PGR riders personally. Several of the military officers also took time out to thank each of us. It was an amazing show of respect and honor and I truly believe that the family of CSM LaBorde felt comforted by the presence of so many who stood at their side that day.

The second was a Marine, Lance Corporal Josh Davis from Perry, Iowa. In my book, Josh Davis was only 19 and a child, but died as a hero on May 8 from injuries suffered in a gunfight with an enemy position who ambushed his patrol. Two Marines died in that gunfight, but Josh was able to save several others in his unit drawing enemy fire away from his fellow Marines. I left for his funeral on a Saturday morning early. It was still a bit cool that day, but when I got to Perry, I was not alone. Over 200 Patriot Guard Riders had showed up to pay honor to this young man. Unfortunately, members of the Westboro Baptist Church, a rogue extremist group from Topeka, Kansas, also had a presence choosing to protest the funeral and dishonor the memory of this fallen Marine. It made me sick to my stomach to even see these people. Fortunately, as I discovered later, you have to love the ingenuity of small town police officers!

It took one whole day to complete this ride, or “mission” as these are referred to by the Patriot Guard. Most of the membership is made up of former vets, American Legion folks, military riders, and folks who are dedicated to making a difference by honoring our military men and women. We assembled a few blocks from the high school, where LCpl Davis funeral service would be held. We prayed for the family, our safety, and we prayed for the family of this Marine. At the end of our briefing, we all mounted up, and began our procession to the high school. I must say that anyone who has ever stood in the middle of 200 motorcycles starting all at once knows it can be a breathtaking sensation. As we left, however, we saw the protestors, and I felt almost sad for these folks. To me, their protest spat in the face of every life given for our freedoms we enjoy, but, I also remember that they have their right to their voice. As we got to the high school, we formed our flag line, and the sight of flags along our route was simply incredible. It was truly a day to honor this young man.

As the funeral ended, we began our escort of the procession to the Iowa Veterans Cemetery about 30 miles away. We rode under an enormous American Flag hoisted over our route with cranes, and as we proceeded out of town, I was simply amazed at the outpouring of support for this Marine. At the south end of town, we rode past the protest we had seen earlier, but as I said before, the ingenuity of the small town police was quite evident, because as we rode by, I was greeted by a street full of American Flag holders essentially blocking the protest group from the view of the family. Apparently, the police had granted the protest group with one area to hold their protest, but had positioned members of the public wielding the American Flag in front of the group. And not only were they in front of the protest group, they were holding their flags high so that there was no mistaking their mission.  If I make it back to Perry, I might stop by the police department just to say THANKS!

We proceeded south out of Perry, escorting the funeral to the Iowa Veterans Cemetery in Van Meter, Iowa. Along the route we would pass through three small Iowa communities, and much to my surprise, the entire route through each of these communities was lined with men, women, and children all paying respect and honor to our procession. Fire, police, and ambulance members all saluting the escort, children waving their flags and saluting this Marine. It was one incredible sight, and I will not forget the respect that these communities paid to this family and this Marine.

When we arrived at the burial site, the Patriot Guard Riders formed up a flag line leading to the burial plot. With all the motorcycles present, it formed a perfect nest for which the family found protection and comfort. At the end of the funeral, it had begun to cloud up, but as I left the cemetery, I felt saddened for the loss of this young man. LCpl Davis was only 19. He had graduated high school just one year earlier, and in fact, was old enough to be my son. He died much too young, in service to his country, but for which the reasons just do not seem as clear. As I rode home, I questioned whether this Marine’s life was necessary in the pursuit of those enemies of freedom. I question the motives of our government in even being in Afghanistan, or any Third World country for that matter. At age 19, I believe LCpl Davis was just too young, and I hope that we can bring our military home soon.

I was watching a documentary film on TV during the Memorial weekend holiday. It was a film about those heroes buried in Section 60 at Arlington National Cemetery. It showed the families of many of these recent war dead still grieving, still mourning their loss. There was one woman, the wife of a dead Marine who passed out stones to students visiting the cemetery for the first time. She instructed each of them to leave the stone on the top of a grave marker they had visited. The stone was a sign to that family that someone had paid honor to their loved one. I have never been to Arlington National Cemetery, but this struck a real chord for me. How much better we would all feel if we left a “stone” honoring a friend, a family member, a loved one. Maybe not the physical “stone” but to have some positive effect on someone can leave that indelible mark, or “stone” in each of our lives would mean so much. Whether it’s a family member, a neighbor, a coworker, even a brother or sister can mean so much, and have that “positive” feeling that makes us who we are.

To each of you, I hope I can leave my own “stone”. Huah.

100 Miles Of The Spirit

It is now March, and the weather, thankfully, is starting to warm.  Slightly.  Slightly warm, in Iowa, however, doesnt really mean much.  For several weeks we suffered thru sub zero temperatures, snow, ice, more sub zero, and hardly any sunlight at all.  Being somewhat scientific in my approach, I was always under the impression that life as we know it, at least here on the surface of earth, must have some sort of sunlight.  From the plants and trees to the animal kingdom, sunlight feeds us, makes us more mentally and emotionally balanced, adds a glow to our skin, and helps to generate plant life.  But (and you always know there is a but looming somewhere!) without sunlight, moods around at least our house are, for the most part, pretty down.  That is, fortunately until this week, when the sun finally started peeking through the clouds, the temperatures finally started picking up (a little) and the deep snow cover that has blanketed our town is finally starting to melt.  Some.


As with all things, there is a down side even to the warmer changes of spring.  With all of the snow cover we have had, it is almost a certainty we will have more spring flooding, and after the Flood of 2008, the chances are good we could see a similar event unfold.  Climatologists are predicting above normal precipitation this spring, and added to the melting snow could mean more problems.  Luckily our house sits on a hill far away from the Cedar River, and although nothing can be ruled out, our house sits in a much more "elevated" position than where we lived previously.  Let us all hope that these predictions are not accurate and we can avoid another flooding even such as what occurred in 2008.

As the temperatures have begun to warm, I have been making repairs to my Harley.  Since I am not as uniquely familiar with a Harley, I am trying to take it rather slow, choosing the repairs I can do myself first, and asking a lot of questions in the process.  I did change the slip on mufflers myself, and a few other minor repairs from last year.  I chose a muffler that would be more of a performance boost, selecting the Rush Racing slip ons.  These are not exactly the best solution in the world, but they do boost the output of the engine by about 4-5 horsepower.  They look great on the bike, but the sound is what struck me.  They sound more throaty and maybe just a bit crisper.  Still have to figure out tires and brakes, but just having fun is the main key here.

Work has been challenging, however, Mary finally received a promotion and a little pay raise which should help offset the loss of income I have had.  Her schedule is not what I would call family friendly but its something that she may benefit from having a split work week rather than a full forty hour week at once.  As for me, my night long endless design work seems to be slowing up a bit, allowing for some time to catch up on housework and organizing the office.  This year looks to be a slower year than most, but my day job looks to be accelerating some.  Several staff members at my D.O.T. office are reviewing their options for early retirement, and this year we may lose some of them.

About a month ago, as Mary and I made our way one Saturday morning to our favorite breakfast diner, a heavy fog in the area had caused "hoarfrost" to cling to the trees in the area.  Hoarfrost is the result of a heavy morning dew freezing or clinging to the trees, creating a thing white frost on anything it touches.  It makes the trees quite beatiful, especially after such a mind numbing winter, but this one particular morning the sun was just peeking thru as we returned home, and then hid again as if playing hide and go seek thru the shadows.  Unfortunately hoarfrost can also be somewhat dangerous, making for a rather slippery road surface as we discovered at the railroad crossing just east of the house.  It served as a reminder that winter could not last forever, but it still held us in its raw clutches.

This past Saturday I finally made it out for the first ride of the season, putting almost 100 miles in on a somewhat chilly, but sunny 43 degree afternoon.  There is absolutely nothing more exhilirating than riding a motorcycle in 40 degrees.  Some might use other terms such as "crazy" or lunatic" but no matter, to me it is just the best sign that winter is leaving and spring is almost here!  I took the opportunity to ride up to J&P Cycles about 40 miles northeast on Highway 151.  This time of year there is still a lot of sand, grit, and salt literally covering the roadway.  A skilled rider would recognize that riding can be a bit treacherous if you are not careful, as was the rider I rode past who was picking his bike and himself up from a spill.  No doubt tried to take a corner much to fast and hit a sandy patch.  Every choice including what part of your lane to ride in can have its consequences, so to those who may be trying to make their way out onto the roadways this time of year - be careful!

There was a moment which served as a rather emotional and uplifting experience on my ride Saturday.  It was one of those moments you wish you had a camera, but for now I will simply play that moment over and over in my mind.  Most of my riding "adventures" are filled with observations of the world around me.  The deer that were grazing amidst the snowy drifts, or the wild turkeys in their cautious pace thru a bare patch of cornfield.  I was only 7 or so miles east of town, and I could see what appeared to be a hawk taking off from his kingly stance, but as he took off, he turned towards me, wings beating the cold air with certain destiny.  Normally in this area red tail hawks are the most common bird of prey, along with barn owls.  For some reason, however, I could not take my eyes off this bird, in part because he was flying much lower than most birds who fly across the divided highways of Iowa, and as I rode ever closer, the bird, indeed, was not a hawk at all, but as the sun gazed upon this bird, the hawk revealed itself as a bald eagle, flying not 50 feet over my Harley as I rode easterly!  It was a moment I will not soon forget, and to me, it was a sign from above that I had an angel keeping watch over my ride. 

"But those who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up, with wings as eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall wallk and not faint".    Isaiah 40:31

For that 100 miles on a chilly day in March, my spirit was indeed renewed.

God Bless !

                                                                                            

One Year.....And Counting?

I have been quite busy the last few weeks.  Work Work Work has all but drowned out the rest of my life.  Of course, when you live in the Midwest in winter, is there really much else TO do?  I suppose the cross country skiers might enjoy the cold and the snow.  Maybe the snowmobilers too, but after all, you have to have snow for those activities.  For me, its more the knees than anything else that take the utter pounding from the cold.  Then there is the "precipitation" and I use that word painfully.  Ice, snow, sleet, freezing rain, freezing drizzle we have gotten much more than our share of the precip this year.  At one point about a week ago we had just about every form of precip falling from the sky except cats and dogs!  I finally had to stop one night and ask God to stop the insanity.

Its been exactly one year.  Seems like a small thing to some, but I have been stone cold bone jarring head turning crazy like a fox SOBER for exactly one year.  And counting!!!  Yes I guess I am bragging a little, but considering how I did it and why just dumbfounds even the most hardheaded folks around these parts that know me best.  The last drink I had was during the 2009 Super Bowl.  I had tried to quit before during the Christmas Holiday in 2008, but a friend of ours showed up before the big game, and I just had to have a couple of drinks that night.  As luck would have it, though, once I started in ernest, I found I craved alcohol less and less, and it became easier to go longer without a drink.  Then, of course, as the weather got better, I was on my Harley a lot, and I just could not see myself drinking a couple of beers at some far away watering hole, and then hopping on the Harley to try to get home.  What is most interesting is I can go into just about any bar tavern watering hole what have you, and I still do not have the thirst any more.  I still have moments of weakness, such as the night a friend "suggested" we go to a local Irish pub and have a pint or two of Guinness.  Over the last ten years or so I have had a bad weakness for darker stout beers, and Guinness is one of my all time favorites, but as luck would have it, I was able to stay away from the Guinness and keep my sobriety.

All this sobriety has given me newfound freedom and wisdom.  I am losing much of the weight I have carried around for many years.  I have taken to avoid fast food wherever I can.  I am also becoming a bit of a tea addict, as if thats a bad thing.  Tea and water are my only drinks now.  Even pop is losing its grip on me.  I used to love the Mountain Dew, Dr Pepper, root beer, and such.  I am more patient as well, and maybe even more realistic.  Unfortunately as with things like this, it has come with somewhat of a cost.  Folks I thought were friends now shy away when I tell them I don't drink.  Where I would once enjoy the friendship of a trusted friend I have found there is now some measure of rejection.  It makes me wonder if these folks were worth friendship if they cannot respect my effort at sobriety.  I will never forget, however, my father telling me how proud he was that I chose to stick to my guns during Thanksgiving (Thanks POP!) and also the compliments of other family members and close friends who have urged me on in this pursuit.

As the New Year began I had all the hopes for a great year, however, it isn't always the best of times.  The suicide of a friend has served to remind me of how fragile life is.  Cancer has also claimed the life of another friend and former coworker.  My sister too, has suffered loss of a trusted friend Cheyenne.  Life can be a bitter pill at times, but death is part of life, and at some point I will learn from those lessons.  Its how we deal with these trials that is the measure of our character.

Peace,
B

We Interrupt This Marriage...

Its another January evening sitting on the frozen Iowa tundra, and I do mean frozen.  Up until a few short days ago, temperatures here fought just to make it above the zero mark.  Sometimes its fun to enjoy a bitter nip in the air, and then there are those little reminders that your body sends you that cold weather hurts!  The knees have taken a real beating this winter, as has Mary's back.  Not to fret - racing season is almost here, and thats my signal that spring will be here shortly.  As my wife says - we interrupt this marriage to bring you the racing season.

Christmas has since past on, and its been a difficult couple of weeks getting decorations put back in their places, getting back into the swing of a 5 day work week, and preparing for that most dreaded of events - tax season.  We all go thru those stresses differently.  I tend to think that as long as you have saved your stuff, and kept at least some manageable records, there is no reason to sweat bullets over nothing.  When we purchased our home in 2008, we were still on the red side, and owing Uncle Sam is never fun.  Inheriting bills and funeral costs really took a toll on our finances, and it took forever to get all those things worked out, but now we actually look forward to filing because that nice little refund check is something we have missed out on the last few years. While we arent really raking in money at least we know we aren't going to have the wolves howling at our doorstep.

The last few weeks I have been taking a few minutes every morning to look up.  The sky has been crisp and cold, and the morning colors have been exceptionally beautiful this time of year.  The hard part is my camera is still resting comfortably on my desk in the man cave, but the assault on the senses has been welcome.  As the temperatures drop, the atmospheric conditions become better for making such observations.  Colors I do not ordinarily see have been ablossom in our morning sky.  Greens, aquas, blues and reds have filled our sky with plumes of color. Constellations are just barely visible at twilight, however, Orion has always been a favorite constellation, and the great star Betelguese has been keeping its vigil perched on Orion's shoulder peering down as I make my way to work every morning.  You do not always need a telescope to see the real beauty of the heavens.  Just look up!

Music continues to be a source of joy and this last month I have found several artists that seem to have caught my fancy.  One that I am particularly intrigued by is Dame Evelyn Glennie, a brilliant percussionist and artist from Great Britain.  As it turns out she is deaf, yet has worked with some of the great orchestras of today and commissioned by such artists as Sting, Bobby McFerrin, and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.  She published a video which I took particular note of how she feels music instead of hearing it.  For her having the disability of being deaf has only been a small inconvenience, but as she recalled, after auditioning for a part in one orchestra, they were forced to change policies on auditions from those with disabilities because, as she recalled, "they simply weren't prepared for music that was meant to be felt by a deaf".  For those interested check her out at http://www.evelyn.co.uk/ .

As I watched the local morning news I noted with a particular interest a story about a high school student who was given an assignment to write about someone or something which may inspire them.  This student, who attends Independence High School here in Iowa, developed a video memorializing the late Coach Ed Thomas, a football coach and teacher who was ruthlessly gunned down last summer in the community of Parkersburg, Iowa.  I wrote about the loss of Coach Thomas noting that his tuteledge as coach reminded me of my own struggles in high school and how another teacher, Joyce May, helped me to succeed not only in her class but in life.  This blog is but a small testament to her and the motivation she has given me in my life.  Parents, especially teaching parents such as mine, also have helped inspire and direct my talents.  I can only be thankful for the tools that my parents gave me in my life. The video that this student produced drew from a song by Rascall Flatts entitled "Stand" which was very successful.  Inspiration can occur in many forms, but this student drew inspiration from the life of Coach Thomas and how he taught his players and students to stand up, lead by example, follow your beliefs, and be strong in everything you do.  Joyce May gave me that same inspiration as well, and I sincerely hope that the effort this student made can be published for all to see.  It will stand as a tribute to life of a teacher who made a difference in the lives of his students and his community.

Cause when push comes to shove
You taste what you're made of
You might bend, till you break
Cause its all you can take
On your knees you look up
Decide you've had enough
You get mad you get strong
Wipe your hands shake it off
Then you Stand, Then you stand