Good-bye Danny. You will be missed.

The day before the final day of school, in other words, 8th grade promotion. My day started a bit sentimental, as I stood watching my first year class coming into school looking like they are 18 or 19, as opposed to 14. Ties, jackets, high heels, dresses, "evening" hair, the works. Initially, I was excited for them to go (honestly, what teacher isn't excited to get rid of the 8th graders the last week of school), but I was assaulted with a feeling of nostalgia as I watched them parade by. Then, my phone rings.

It is a text from a good friend of mine back home, informing me that my jazz professor/piano teacher has died. Mind you, I only found out last night that he had been diagnosed with leukemia and had received an infection after many rounds of chemo. His blood pressure had fallen so low that he was not expected to make it through the night. He made it through the night, but that was all the strength left in him. At 8AM on May 27th, Danny Jordan went home.

My heart is so heavy, as I think back over my music education and realize just how much time I spent with this man and how very much I respected him. All told, I probably took 8 or 9 classes with him, and he was the one that taught me how to sing jazz. I would never have had the courage to attempt such a feat, if it had not been for Danny Jordan. Because of him I spent hours upon hours listening to Ella Fitzgerald, memorizing her songs, repeatedly attempting her solos. Because of him I learned to scat, I learned to get over my fears, I learned to play jazz on the piano (minimal as it may be).

He was an incredible pianist, probably one of the best I've ever heard, and he had perfect pitch like no one I've ever known! He loved to listen to Oscar Peterson and play him in class for examples. He would play Oscar over and over and over, pointing out different chord structure and sounds, then mimicing them on the piano. Danny taught me more music than anyone person had before, or has since. He made me into the musician and person I am today. I just pray that he knew how much he mattered and how much he made a difference in all of our lives.

The world has lost a musician and a teacher, and I have lost a mentor and a role model. Our lives will not be the same without you Danny. May you peacefully rest, for all eternity.

&nb
This weekend, instead of staying around to suffer through the scorching heat of Phoenix, we took a little journey northwest to Kingman. One of our good friends, Signpost, teaches there and we often make excursions to escape our concrete jungle. Now, if you have never been to Kingman, it IS on the way to Vegas and the Hoover Dam, but that is about it's only redeeming factor. It is a relatively small city that sprung up around the mining industry and Route 66, however, once the mining industry took a nosedive, so did Kingman. It's a nice break from the big city, but I must admit, I am not sure how Jon has survived out there for two years, alone. I would claw my eyes out from boredom. I digress.

We drove out Saturday afternoon and went straight to the campground via a 12 mile road, which slowly crawls up the side of a 6000 foot mountain. The actual campground was secluded, and sat directly atop of one of the mountain peaks with stunning views on all sides. It was quite windy, thus the name "Windy Point Campground," and my new tent got a work out! However, my good ole' Sierra Design performed beautifully :-)

We also had a chance to climb a hill on the far side of our campsite, which contained these enormous mounds of boulders on the top of the hill. Eric climbed almost the entire way to the top, while I came close behind. I am definitely not quite agile enough to make it as far as he did, but with practice I'll be able to keep up. He's going to see if there are any places around here where we can do a little bouldering. I absolutely loved it. The views were incomparable, and it actually took a lot of strength and gave a pretty good work out :-)

 
I must admit. . . I look pretty bad ass sitting pretty on top of this mound of boulders! While we were camping, we hiked up this little peak that was covered with boulders and I had my first true experience with "bouldering." It was really incredible and definitely something that I would like to pursue further. What a rush.

Who knew?

Who knew that one could actually report sibling abuse (between a 14 and a 13 year old) to Child Protective Services?

Who knew that a mom could marry her child's grandfather?

Who knew that a couple in their 70's could take on four children, when no one else wants them, who are of absolutely no blood-relation, and raise them as their own?

Who knew that a woman, after receiving a diagnosis of severe osteoperosis and having a hip replacement, could offer the last miniscule of money that she had in the world, to help her adopted chlid go to Washington DC, just so she has a chance to do something with her life?

Who knew that a child could be born into this world, and within three days of her life beginning, have to receive open brain surgery to remove a cyst?

Who knew that these children could change the lives of so many?

Days like today leave me confused, frustrated and angry . . .yet hope. There is always that tiniest glimmer of hope that there IS good in the world and it IS worth searching for.

A whole new level...

I've started "training" this week for my trip to the Grand Canyon. Well, honestly, I'm not sure you can exactly call it training, more like walking with my pack on. I must admit though, a 20 - 25 lb pack on your back takes hiking to a whole new level, one that I admit I was not quite ready for.

I've been starting simple: 3 mile walks in the morning, 3 mile hikes at Thunderbird park on the weekends. The things that I am not enjoying, however, is this bloody heat. I am kicking myself for not starting this two months ago when it was actually enjoyable outside. Last weekend it was 93 degrees at 9:30 in the morning. This has apparently been one of the hottest May's on record. Great timing, Forster. Wait until the hottest month so far, to put a full 25 lb pack on and tromp around in the desert. Genius.

Despite my complaints, I think I'm finally starting to get the hang of this. How do I hike a 1000 foot incline with this thing attached to me? How do I talk myself into actually continuing, instead of curling up under the first Verde tree I see? How do I keep the sweat that is pouring down my face from blinding me, because my head is looking at the ground, not at the massive hill I have to climb? How do I keep from panicking at the sight of this monstrosity that I must conquer? These are all questions I am finally able to answer, after five months of these hiking feats. I am the first one to admit I have an entire desert to cross before I am physically in the shape I want to be, but I feel that I have made some good strides. Long way to go though. . . very long way.

Only three weeks left . . .

I am really amazed at how drastically the kids have changed in the last five days. ONE week ago they were working wonderfully in their groups, getting all their work done in a timely manner, being respectful and kind to one another and just being fabulous little seventh graders in general. Then the temperature skyrocketed. Yes, now we are looking at four consistent days of 100 degree weather, and I truly believe that their brains have been fried. Cooked like little sausages on Sunday morning.

Overnight, I have 28 hellions in my room who refuse to listen, can't keep their grubby little paws to themselve, insist that they know better than any of their teachers, and honestly, truly believe that the rules apply to everyone but themselves. Sigh. My favorite time of year. Monday morning we spent 15 minutes practicing walking in a straight line with another colleague's class. That was a sight to behold. . . 60 seventh graders walking silently, in an impeccably straight line around and around and around and around the basketball courts. They earned it - they refused to line up in the morning when the bell rang.

I forgot one more thing. I have been hearing rumors that students in my homeroom class are a)bringing weed to school and b)smoking in the park before/after school. I am surrounded by geniuses.

Consequently, by Tuesday afternoon I had rearranged my room from warm, comforting, friendly tables to cold, heartless pairs (soon to be followed by evil rows, if they can't keep their behavior under control!). The rearrangement was accompanied by a threat of book work for the next three weeks, if needed. This seems to have pacified their need to push the boundaries as far as humanly possible. . .
We shall see how long it lasts.