Election Withdrawal

Most people today are thrilled that the election is over. No more attack ads, debates, polls, phone calls, or, in the case of Linda McMahon, burying the general public in your obscene propaganda, but that's just one guy's opinion.

Not me. It's only one day later, and I already miss it. I feel an acute sense of emptiness. Today, I'm going through Election Withdrawal.

Don't get me wrong, there are some things about an election cycle that get annoying, such as the proliferance of obnoxious political yard signs, peoples' continous posts on facebook. Apparently, some people think that an excessive number of posts for one side or the other is going to result in changing the minds of their friends.

One or two posts is enough.

But I will miss the - even I can't believe I'm saying this - media coverage of the presidential campaigns. While the best candidates often do not reach the general election ( the richest usually do), how people do not get excited about the process of electing a president and Election Night itself is beyond me. We do live in a democracy, despite the fact at the Electoral College is out of date, and it's simply inspiring that we live in a free society in which we elect our president and other public officials.

Watching presidential debates, for me, is like watching the World Series - this year even more so, given the teams playing in the World Series. I could have easily watched two or three more debates. In what other scenario do the final two candidates for the nation's highest office grapple over our
most important issues? Even if they stand on the stage and don't answer questions, that tells you a lot about these guys. On its lowest level, it's pretty entertaining.

This campaign was unexpectedly compelling. Who would have thought Romney would put the late charge that he did? Who foresaw Obama's terrible first debate?

Four more years for the president, and hopefully they will be prosperous ones for America. Until then, we will all wait to see who will emerge as the nominees in 2016. And while I will miss this year's campaign coverage, I'll welcome the break, at least for tonight, and go to bed early.

On the overwhelming need for a child to be first

I have a seven year old son, which means that for the last year, besides LEGOs and baseball cards, something that matters a whole lot in his world is being first. The other day, he announced that he was the first kid IN HIS SCHOOL in the morning. He supposedly beat everyone.

I guess that, developmentally, a child in first or second grade really values this premise. Winning, too, is incredibly important at this age. So is racing to places. During a basketball practice a few weeks ago, when the coach said not to run while dribbling, of course half of the kids sprinted. And my son was right in front, trying to be first, cutting the corners, even cheating a little.

And even though there is NO GOALIE and no one keeps score while playing Grade 1/2 soccer, a few of the kids privately keep track and tell their parents what the score really was on the ride home.

I remember some of this from my childhood - racing my friend to the car when my mother picked us up from school and bragging about who won. Counting the number of home runs we hit when playing baseball in the neighborhood. When I was in elementary school, the bus stop was right in front of my house, and a bunch of us used to try being the first one on the bus every day. It got so bad that my mother had to create a rotating order so that each of us had a chance to be first.  I recall seeing the list on the refrigerator door.

Is this need to be first and constantly have to win due to an evolutionary survival skill? Our way of adapting to our society's culture of competitiveness? Or is racing/ winning/ being first while doing things that are not innately competitive a child's way of bragging, feeling good about themselves, a raising of the ego, because they know that no one likes a loser?

I'll have to ask my son about this the next time he tells me he comes in first - or how he feels if he comes in second.

My Commentary in Education Week

What will happen to cursive penmanship in an age of "21st Century Learning," with kids learning via iPad and having to integrate multimedia through the new Common Core Standards?

It will probably get lost in the tableau of most teacher's days. At one time, I thought that attention on cursive penmanship mattered, but as I watch my own kids using technology with great ease and knowing how critical it will be for them to use computers effectively in school and beyond, cursive writing instruction, I fear, is indeed not a priority.

I explored the idea, along with the fact that my own students for some years now have not been able to read my half-cursive, half-printed script when I hand back assignments.

Here's a link to the piece, one of the currrent commentaries for the paper:


http://www.edweek.org/ew/articles/2012/10/17/08polochanin.h32.html?tkn=LQUFaQG4LlsPKfffj2aHrQiaH3tBws1VYzfb

M*A*S*H Theme Title: Who Knew?

Why I found myself humming the theme to M*A*S*H the other day, I'm not sure. But when I learned that the title of the song is "Suicide Is Painless", I was a little disturbed. Evidently, the song was written by 14 year old son of one of the producers, which maybe is even more scary.

My Hartford Marathon Mix

I will labor incredibly over the right mix of music for certain situations. Like I used to do in high school, I enjoy making music mixes – using my iTunes library, though, not cassette tapes - for birthday parties, casual friends-over hangouts, family dinners, and, what I plan to do tomorrow, the Hartford Marathon.

I am running only the 5k, though to test myself more strenuously, I’m planning to run it twice. (Shhhhh. Don’t tell anyone.) But, as many runners will tell you, at least those listening to music – the Hartford Marathon people discourages, but doesn’t ban, the use of headphones – the right mix is important, critically important. The right mix, having songs with fast beats, uplifting, motivating lyrics, and positive associations, can put you in a “zone”, and is one of the tricks of the trade for runners. Well, that, and good sneakers, the right breakfast, and, of course, some training (or a fearless attitude) helps.

But the music is what echoes in your head while struggling to get up hills; music is what encourages you to push yourself during a race when you are running out of steam. When there isn’t an encouraging person – sometimes a police officer – standing on the sidewalk, a runner’s choice of music can give them a little edge.

Yesterday, I put the finishing touches on my mix – different from mixes of other races I’ve done, complete with a few new songs. I told myself: No slow songs this year. No thoughtful ballads that might seem inspirational, but are too slow on the course. There’s nothing worse than that, or a goof-up, like an inadvertent shuffle to the Beatles’ “Yellow Submarine.”

So, I will lay bare, my top 10 picks from my iTunes 2013 Hartford Marathon mix, for all to see and scrutinize.

1. “Some Nights” by Fun.. This year’s number one song. The drums and the choral chanting in the background bring the energy to this song. Memorable line: “This is it, boys, This is war. What are we waiting for? Why don’t we break the rules already?”
2. “Hearts on Fire” by John Cafferty. Who could forget this one from Rocky IV? USA vs. Soviet Union. Rocky doing situps hanging upside down in a barn. Memorable line: “Hearts on fire. Strong desire… rages deep within.”
3. “Party Rock Anthem” by LMFAO. Cool synthesizer music and drum machine gets the adrenaline flowing. Memorable line: “Party rock is in the house tonight. Everybody just have a good time. And we gonna make you lose your mind.”
4. “Crazytrain” by Ozzy Osborne. Just a psycho song, from beginning to end. Makes you mad, gets you hyped. Memorable line: “I’m going off the rails on a Crazy train.”
5. “Centerfold” by J. Geils Band. Going old-school again, I know, but this one is upbeat and fun. Memorable line: “My blood runs cold. My memory has just been sold. My Angel is the centerfold.”
6. “Home” by Philip Phillips. This one got me this past summer as I watched the Olympics when they showed the athletes’ highlights after winning medals. Memorable line “Don’t pay not mind to the demons. They fill you with fear.”
7. “Empire State of Mind” by Jay-Z. You just feel tough listening to this song, almost as tough as Rocky. “New York. Concrete jungle where dreams are made of. There’s nothing you can’t do. These streets will make you feel brand new, the lights will inspire you.”
8. “Last Friday Night” by Katy Perry. The only female featured on my mix. Memorable line: None appropriate for a family newspaper. But the “TGIF” “TGIF” chant toward the end is pretty cool.
9. “Panama” by Van Halen. When David Lee Roth was the band’s lead singer, the first time, this band rocked. Eddie Van Halen’s guitar pulses. Memorable word: “Pa-na-ma! Pa-na-ma-uh-ah-uh-ah-uh!”
10. “No Easy Way Out” by Robert Tepper. Another Rocky IV song. When Rocky takes a drive in his Lamborghini, reflecting on the purpose for his next fight, who cannot get inspired? Memorable line: “There’s no easy way out. There’s no shortcut home.”

It may sound strange to say, but I am psyched to come into Hartford early on a Saturday morning, as I know thousands of others are. Like them, I will have the right shirt, pair of shorts (even though they’re calling for an overnight frost!), and, of course, a fully charged iPod with my carefully selected mix of songs.

Will my music make me run faster? Perhaps. Perhaps not. But as long as I think it does, that’s all that matters.

Jim Calhoun: An Appreciation

The UConn men's basketball team takes the court for the first time tonight without Jim Calhoun as head coach. Last month, when Calhoun announced his retirement, I submitted this to the Hartford Courant, but a lack of space and another UConn article prevented me from getting it published.

So I submit it here, today.


We were lucky.

We were lucky that, for the last 26 years, Jim Calhoun, who retired Thursday as UConn men’s basketball coach, chose to make his coaching home in Storrs, where he built the program from relative obscurity in 1986 to a national powerhouse. Love his style or not, and many didn’t, he is the main reason why UConn won three NCAA titles, played in four Final Fours since 1999, and he helped make winter a season to look forward to in Connecticut.

We owe this to his fiery spirit, his passion for winning, his command and knowledge of the game. It should now be clear that, even when he was questioned by the media and fans for his coaching decisions – and in a place this small, every move you make as a high-profile coach is questioned – he knew what he was doing all along.

Just look at the way he retired – so late in the process that the university had no choice but to name his recommendation, Kevin Ollie, as the new head coach.

Having attended more than a hundred UConn basketball games since my freshman year there in 1990, I derived as much entertainment from watching Calhoun act on the sidelines as I did seeing his team play, perhaps even more so. On TV, I would have paid an extra fee to have a separate camera locked on him for the whole game, his body swaying, arms gesturing, having “conversations” with officials that were largely one-sided.

It is true that his courtside dialogue was often not PG-rated. From the second tier of the XL Center, as a season ticket holder I could hear him chew out one of his players after calling a timeout ten seconds into a game. The arena would turn library quiet, just to catch a few words of what he was saying. Though embarrassing for the player involved, the public criticism, which usually stemmed from playing lazily, usually worked.

His relationship with referees could best be described as tenuous. While most coaches stayed near their assigned spot in front of the bench during a game, he often wandered five feet onto the court. Calhoun stomped the floor if a player didn’t box out on a rebound or if he made an errant pass, and I saw the coach more than once put his dress shoe into the UConn Club sign on the bottom of the scorer’s table in a fit of fury over something that didn’t meet his expectations.

And of course, this is exactly what I liked about him, what many of us liked about him. His attitude.

After all, this was the guy who refused to throw out the first pitch at Yankee Stadium one year, staying true to his Boston roots.

It’s this attitude and his passion that I’ll most miss, as I’m sure his players will. It’s this passion that propelled UConn from a promising basketball program in the late 80s to one that became a favorite, year after year, to win Big East championships. It’s this passion that made elite high school athletes perform so well at the collegiate level. As any coach knows, it takes more than mere talent to win games.

While Calhoun’s retirement was a national story – ESPN called on its team of basketball analysts on Thursday for commentary during their off-season – its statewide implications will be felt the most. For the last 20 years, the UConn men have been expected to win, and because of this, between 10,000 and 16,000 fans filled seats in Hartford and at Gampel Pavilion to witness this greatness. And hundreds of thousands more watched on television, often at the edge of our seats.

Jim Calhoun’s retirement was not unexpected – he did not commit to return as coach until the end of summer last year – but Thursday will go down as a sad day for Connecticut sports, on par with the announcement that the Whalers were leaving Hartford in 1997. When Geno Auriemma decides to retire, we will feel a similar void.

UConn basketball is arguably the closest thing we have to a men’s professional sport in our state. Whether you agreed with his antics or not, if you cared about Connecticut basketball for the last few decades, you are going to miss Jim Calhoun. I know I will.

David Polochanin of Marlborough is a teacher and freelance writer.

Slave labor?

All right, so when I looked out the window and saw the kids not only raking the leaves in the yard but they were doing so ON THEIR OWN, WITHOUT BEING TOLD, ON A TARP, I admit, I felt a little guilty, I felt a little useless.