DD #57 - Getting up at 4AM Wasn't All That Bad

I was always an early riser as a child, so getting a morning paper route for the Sentinel was a logical job for me. The paper came around four in the morning. My father and I added any inserts if necessary and ventured out in opposite directions every morning but Sunday. The -75 wind chill day was forgettable. The blizzard was regrettable. The special gift an overhead bird gave was unavoidable. Overall, loading up the red, squeaky wagon and carrying that satchel around my neighborhood brings back lots of wonderful memories. Either way, I took my job seriously and was very excited when I received compliments from my customers for my work. While most customers pre-paid, I did get to meet some face to face as I went out to "collect" them monthly. I also experienced annual interactions as I went out to "sell" calendars. When the decision was made to merge the Sentinel and Journal, I was still excited about the opportunity of gaining a few more customers and dollars. When I found out that my expected range of delivery was now approximately five times larger than my current route, I knew my paper illustrious carrier career was over.

Discovering Dargatz # 56 - Ball Boy Blues

When I got the letter stating I had an interview for Bucks Team Attendant, excitement took over.  Not only would I have the possibility of money, but I had a chance to work around professional athletes. When I got through the first interview in the depths of the Bradley Center and was selected for a second interview, I was ecstatic. After a second interview came and passed and I got the call inviting me in to tour the locker room and meet the staff, I could hardly contain the emotions I felt inside. However, that emotion quickly disappeared this third and final interview. Somehow, in the first two interviews, the fact that I was only fifteen slipped through the cracks. It wasn't until now that I found out only candidates with reliable modes of transportation were considered. Even the promise of having my father drop me off as needed didn't win over the Bucks personnel. I felt somewhat relieved when I was told I would be an alternate that season and would be called when needed. I guess I was never needed. The phone never rang, I never got that chance, and my dream of working for the Bucks was squashed.

DD #55 - Integrated Liberal Studies. . .I think.

Meeting with my college advisor before my freshman year, I was excited to select courses.  Unfortunately, with my registration being towards the end of the scheduled days for incoming underclassmen, my choices were limited. As he guided me, I signed up for the standard intro to psychology, geography class, and calculus.  What was problematic was a very limited supply of courses that would knock off the English pre-requisite needed for just about every major. A remaining course was Integrated Liberal Studies 200. Even the title confused me. Nevertheless, I trusted my advisor and signed up.  It was a mistake. This class was a weekly discussion that debated current and contemporary issues.  Our classes met at a house that was transitioned into the ILS campus building.  After my first session, I knew that was a course for the experience, more intellectual student, not a naive and overwhelmed freshman. I don't remember much about the actual discussions I had (or actually listened to) as I was in over my head and lost when it came to adding valid and reliable discussion points. I do remember writing a project about the Milwaukee County Research Park near my house and escaping with a BC.

Classroom Zoo #14 - A Teacher Wears Many, Many Hats

Teachers wear many hats, figuratively and literally. We can be educators, therapist, referees, architects, nurses, chefs, and custodians. We don't take these responsibilities for granted. It's just part of our job. As a kindergarten teacher, these tasks are second nature to me. When I'm not conducting guided reading groups, leading writing, working with numbers, or focusing on science experiments and social skills, I'm dispensing bandages, delivering mail, handing out snacks, cleaning up paint and other things (some unmentionables), and caring for kids. One of my favorite parts of the job is when a student calls me mom or dad. The hats a teacher wears are innumerable. However, those hats are also literal. In Writing Workshop, I wear a construction hat and tool belt. So too does the student known as the story builder of the day, who leads the sharing. In Math, I occasionally don a chef's hat and apron as we are cooking up numbers. When we are searching for words, letters, or facts, Detective Dargatz makes appearances with trench coat and spyglass. My favorite artist (mustache and all) joins the class for special art projects and in our imagination station. Like I said, teachers wears many hats. . .and we wouldn't have it any other way.

P.S. - Did I mention all the different voices too?  And don't get me started on the songs and dances!

Detective Dargatz during my first year as a 4th grade teacher.  My "hats" have evolved greatly since then.

Tales From the Trails

Hiking has really become an important and enriching activity of mine. Being a self-proclaimed "nature nerd," I've joined the Ice Age Trail Alliance, an organization focusing on enjoying, sustaining, building, and celebrating the Ice Age Trail (IAT).  The IAT is a nearly 1,100 mile nationally-renown trail entirely within the limits of Wisconsin.  It loosely follows the terminal moraine of the glaciers during the last Ice Age and is truly a national treasure. I highly encourage you to check out the Ice Age Trail Alliance website and see what the IAT can offer you. (http://www.iceagetrail.org/)

I've enjoyed the trail so much over the least year, I have even volunteered time helping out at special events hosted by my county chapter, trekked and checked off many segments in my hopes of one day achieving 1,000 miler status, and actually brought hiking into my educational world. Next summer, I will be leading a summer school course through my district called Saunters where about 30 students and I will explore the trail and apply what we learned to a variety of service opportunities and activities.  I am also very proud that I am the coordinator of Tyke Hikes (I even have business cards to prove it).  Tyke Hikes are short family-friendly hikes through parts of the Ice Age Trail.  Each hike focuses on a different natural theme.

I am also very excited that my amazing wife and beautiful daughter are also hiking enthusiasts.  We love getting out and about on the trails and seeing all the beauty and wonder nature has to offer. To keep our excursions fresh in my mind, I do blog each hike and will cherish looking back over these stories as thew years pass. Check out my adventures at my other blog, Tales From the Trails (http://talesfttrails.blogspot.com/). More importantly, go out and make some adventures of your own!

DD #54 - The Shortest Job of My Life

For one night, I was a member of the Bradley Center transition team, the group responsible for changing over the floor to accommodate different sporting and/or special events. This job was originally meant to be a stepping stone to a career in professional sports. An added twist was that my friend was also hired so we were able to experience the joys (and frustration) together. That first night, we were in charge of transitioning the Admirals ice into the Marquette University basketball floor. While my buddy was assigned to a corner of the ice and to remove  glass panels, I was in charge of clearing out the visitors bench.  I was pretty psyched to get such a "cool" assignment until I quickly realized that this meant cleaning Gatorade bottles, organizing random lengths of athletic tape, and disposing of the obligatory blood and sweat-stained towel. After all that cleaning and the physical exhaustion of lifting, twisting, and positioning puzzle pieces of basketball court, I knew I might have to change my opinion of this sports entry job. Luckily for me, a school position was offered to me the next day, just in time to leave my first and last "I quit" voicemail.

Discovering Dargatz #53 - Collectibles, Candy, Cards, and Comic Books

To many children, Sundays in summer meant trips to the pool, zoo, or park. Not for me.  I went to the flea market. Rows and rows of vendors selling anything you could imagine. If it was for sale, it could be found here. Though many different types existed, the one most memorable to me was Maxwell Street Days. It was an all day affair.  Early rising to a late departure. My parents tended to scrounge around for collectibles. Though I am sure I spent much of my younger years at their side, I recall my "tween" years allowing for a little more independence. I usually took a huge lap around the whole place looking for the sweetest deals.  The usual items were on my wish list: baseball cards and paperback comics, though I always made a pit stop at the candy store, picking up Swedish Fish or raspberry gummies. After bargain hunting and walking through the maze of materials, a trip to the grandstand was in order.  When I arrived, I would eat my candy and look through my treasures of the day, knowing full well I would be re-living the same adventure again and again throughout the summer months.

DD #52 - Parade and Afraid

Anyone aware of the mechanical nature of the zoomobiles I was once privileged to drive  knows that their reliability was questionable at best. They were in fact nothing more than forklift engines asked to cart around hordes of people at a minimal speed around the zoo grounds. I was understandably nervous when asked to participate in a holiday parade. When these operational nightmares super susceptible to breaking down in the fairest of weather conditions, what was to be expected in the dead of winter? After weighing my options, I agreed. Slowly guiding the zoomobile  through the streets of West Allis, Wisconsin on a crisp, clear November evening remarkably went smoothly.  That is, until I was told that the streets were re-opening and I would have no escort back to the winter home of the zoomobiles, the horse barn at State Fair Park. In other words, I was being asked to maneuver an oversized compartment filled with overserved bank associates through busy streets at a max speed of approximately 12 miles per hour.  I stuck to the right, honked my measly little horn at will, and survived the treacherous 12 block scramble back to the grounds. Must've been quite a sight!