An English Teacher's Cautionary

Beware the students who sit in the center of the front row, for they shall be loquacious as they confuse Julius Caesar with Shakespeare.

Beware the students who slouch in their seats, for they shall soon be dozing.

Beware the students who sit beside the windows, for they shall stare out of them.

Beware the students who perch along the back row like birds on a branch, for they shall soon mutter among themselves, frequently tittering, though at you or at their own humor, it's difficult to say. 

Beware the students who arrive late, for they will enter noisily and stand directly in front of you (blocking your view of the class) to sign the attendance sheet.

Beware the students who visibly court one another, for soon all eyes shall be on them.

Beware the students who talk a lot, for soon they shall want you to come to their office to discuss your attitude.

Beware the students who have an infallible excuse, for they shall want their grade raised.

Beware the students who MUST make up their final exam, for they shall arrive with answers in their pocket

Beware the smart students, the stupid students, the students who point, the students who can't be bothered.

Beware the students who shows up at your office door licking their lips and scratching their nails suggestively along their pants thigh.  Higher and higher.

But especially beware the students who misspell their own names.

IT'S DONE!

It's finished! The first full manuscript of my father-daughter memoir THAT PUNK JIMMY HOFFA. Wrapped up. All 256 pages, 87,346 words, single-spaced, Times Roman 12 point with one inch margins.

I've bagged it!

Started this project in 1992. Set it aside to write MAIL-ORDER KID and again to write THIEVES, RASCALS & SORE LOSERS.

In between times, I researched. Drove to Fort Collins, Colorado, and Sidney, Nebraska, to interview my father's friends and acquaintances. Drove to Lincoln to interview Carl Curtis. Read through the scrapbooks and other papers kept by my mother. Bought a couple dozen Hoffa books; devoured them.

In between times, wrote bits and pieces. Practice pieces. Tried out various versions. Hoping to write an entire manuscript.

Then in August 2015 I began to write this version, Version 6, the first one that made it all the way to the end. Jogging in and out of ideas. Sending bits and pieces to my writing group, the Omaha Night Writers. Revising. And here it is, the first full manuscript.

What now?

Now my first readers will take a look at it. Dan Reynolds, head of my writing group, and others. I'll revise, as needed.

Then I'll send my manuscript to those crazy gals at Concierge Marketing and together, we'll produce THAT PUNK JIMMY HOFFA. I decided to print a limited edition of hard cover books plus our usual type of paperback. Lisa Pelto will help me plan marketing, Sandy Wendel will fine-tune my manuscript, Rachel Moore will design the cover and other visual materials, Ellie Pelto will act as ringmistress, and Sarah Knight as Concierge's front lady.

We plan to bring THAT PUNK JIMMY HOFFA out in 2017 on some significant date. Maybe July 30, 2017. That would be the 42nd anniversary of Jimmy's disappearance.

And 2017 would be a year earlier than Martin Scorsese would release his movie, "The Irishman," about Frank Sheeran, Hoffa's killer. With Robert De Niro, Al Pacino, and Joe Pesci.

But now I plan to celebrate. Don't drink anymore, don't smoke, don't eat sugar, don't even slurp coffee, although for this occasion I might spring for a decaf latte. (Ain't maturing interesting?) And check my e-mails and FB now and then. See what the evening brings.

DATED

DATED

"You're welcome" apparently is obsolete.

The current response to today's "Thank you" seems to be "No problem."

Am I right?

22 Responses

On the question of a title for my chapter in THAT PUNK JIMMY HOFFA, I received twenty-two responses.

Sixteen voted for one of the five suggested titles this way:

7  Hoffa's Last Stand 

I chose Hoffa's Last Stand. I liked the comparison with Custer and the irony of the title. I liked its popularity and its common touch.

4  Hoffa's Demise 

This one's good, but Demise is not a common word.

3  "I Hear You Paint Houses" 

High energy, but already used as the title of a book. If you "paint houses," you kill for hire.

2  The Gunman Wore No Mask 

I liked this because it's true. In this book, I use subsidiary titles, and I'll use The Gunman Wore No Mask there, above the shooting episode. 

0  A Lone Gunman 

We all agreed on this also-ran.

Seven readers suggested other titles. I enjoyed reading them, but decided to use none, for a variety of reasons.

Don't steal more chain than you can swim with 

Too long

"Did they ever find the body?" 

The answer, "No," is commonly known now.

"My God, I am shot." 

Hoffa didn't have time to say anything. One second he was alive, the next second he was not. A clean kill by a close friend.

"He is dead, isn't he?" 

Doesn't fit the chapter.

The Last Journey 

This would work, but is less verbally interesting than Last Stand. 

Down for the Count 

Implies "almost defeated" but Hoffa was dead.

"Who Knows?" 

Doesn't fit, since I—and the FBI—know who did it and how. We differ only on the place: did it happen in a house or in the car?

Thanks for your participation in my writing process.

HOFFA’S DEMISE

Writing the next to the last chapter in my book, THAT PUNK JIMMY HOFFA, excites me, but I can't figure out what to title this chapter about his death.

Here are my ideas:

Hoffa's Demise

The Gunman Wore No Mask

"I Hear You Paint Houses"

Hoffa's Last Stand

A Lone Gunman

Any title grab you? Or can you suggest an alternative?

The African-American Orphan Train Rider

Not all orphan-train riders originated in New York City, although 250,000 did, from the Children's Aid Society alone. But other riders came from Boston and even Philadelphia.

The Philadelphia social reformers sent children to Pennsylvania and South Jersey, looking for "the open arms of a stable family and the peace of the countryside." 

Student researchers at the Villanova University have examined the lives of these children. They call their work "City of Children: Rescuing Children in Turn of the Century Philadelphia."

A sampling of these forgotten stories, by Kristin E. Holmes, Staff Writer of philly.com, contains many an interesting tale. Here's my favorite:

By his own doing, Madison Ulysses Ayles, eleven and African-American, went through four foster homes in two years. He ran away from the first three, white families who described him as unruly and disruptive, said Charlie Withers, the Villanova student who researched Ayles' life. But the young man's fourth placement, with a black pastor in Avondale, Chester County, seemed to provide a sense of belonging. Ayles lasted longer, but he eventually ran away from there, too.

Want all the details? Click:

http://articles.philly.com/2016-08-30/news/75208049_1_aid-society-helping-children-the-children

THAT PUNK JIMMY HOFFA

I'm almost finished writing my father-daughter memoir, THAT PUNK JIMMY HOFFA, but not quite. 

By now I've described a variety of ways my dad beat Jimmy Hoffa, mostly on a national level.

Currently, I'm writing how Dad was forced to retire, a sad story for me. But not as sad as the book's last chapter: Dad's death and his funeral. 

However, in between I'll write everyone's favorite Hoffa story—how did he disappear and where's his body? Stay tuned.