Podcasting has been around for over a decade. I started listening and enjoying them with my first purchase of an iPod Video and the discovery of DiggNation. Kevin Rose and Alex Albrecht triggered a desire to create my own podcast. That idea morphed into iTechNation and the web content we created to integrate technology into teaching. After 5 years of creating live webcasts on iTechNation we closed that model and switched to creating original content for Aldine TV. The school district I work for uses those videos for training teachers and for three years the content has expanded for all things curriculum.

Imagine my surprise with the recent expansion of the podcast format into the national zeitgeist. With the addition of bluetooth enabled radios in our automobiles the masses started using podcasts on iTunes, Spotify, and iHeartRadio to tune in during their commutes. What changed? Why am I back to my original idea? How do I leverage this time to get teachers to pay attention to developing their craft over the latest Armchair Expert or Joe Rogan.

The first three podcasts we tried to launch at Aldine TV suffered the same fate as the national average. On average podcasts don’t survive past three episodes, almost all but the most successful end between 10 and 20 episodes. That is a lot of podcasting dreams dead on arrival. What happens?

What format are you going to use? We have broken down formatting down to three general categories. Each has different expectations, issues and planning. The format most people think of first is an interview show. A successful podcast interviewing people revolves around the effort put forth in finding people to interview. The producer must schedule people to interview around the chosen topic in a timely manner. 

Successful interview podcasts have a host who spends quite a bit of time researching the topic and person they will be interviewing. Questions are pre-written, information is located to discuss and the interviewer has done a lot of reading to make sure they are knowledgeable enough to support their end of the conversation. The word conversation is important. Am awesome interview podcast is a conversation between 2-3 people. Podcasts are typically a longer format than the typical TV interview. Often last between 30 minutes to an hour all parties involved must be willing to have a conversation. The listener must feel like they are in the room and can be a part of the conversation if you want them to keep coming back.

The next format is the serialized podcast. This podcast tells a story in a limited number of sessions for a series format. The current popular serialized podcasts are True Crime podcasts. Recording a set number of sessions, these podcasts are heavily scripted to narrate a story with interviews, research and discussions. The preparation for this type of podcast requires a lot of work to share a narrative to influence, inform, and entertain.

The final podcast type is the variety show. This show requires a lot of planning to appear to be spontaneous and humorous. The show has a lot of different elements scheduled for the hosts, guests, and audio to be combined to create the episode. There is quite a bit of planning required to ensure that the podcast flows and entertains without appearing forced or unprepared. This format closely resembles a morning talk show on TV. While popular this is a hard format that takes a lot of commitment to maintain over an extended period. The hosts must be truly committed to the program and the subject area of the podcast or it will quickly fade away.

After deciding your format you must choose your topic. Choosing your podcast topic must address something that someone besides yourself must enjoy. It is hard to create podcasts when no one else is interested in the same thing as you. If the podcast is just you talking about your favorite pet rock it probably won’t go anywhere. So let's talk about content. 

Content has to be broad enough to allow you to have a discussion each week. If you are an interview show the questions should reflect an interview format that is consistent, probing and focused towards the purpose of the podcast. Serial podcasts start broad and narrow the scope of discussion as they march toward the end of the serialized content. The next season will start out broad and again narrow focus as the serial zeroes in on the subject of that arc.

Variety show content is usually structured around set behaviors. News articles, reviewer comments, quiz games, and hot topic items in pop culture are favorite subjects. The podcast follows a consistent format that the audience finds interesting, relatable and enjoyable. Deviate from this consistent format and the audience will rebel and stop listening. 

The number one thing to remember in any format is content is the key. It must be delivered at a set time every week with fidelity to maintain an audience. This is why podcasts like mine failed. I lacked the time to plan, schedule, and edit the podcast to consistently deliver the content each week. This led to a such a small audience that I quickly decided wasn’t worth all of the work I was going to have to put forth to continue production.

Remember the content for your format must engage as well. The audience must have a genuine interest in what you are presenting. They should become caught up in your passion and interest for the topic of the day. Include the audience by asking them to leave questions and comments on your social media. Read the content from your audience in your show to continue that engagement. The more audience engagement you recognize the better your show will be as you learn from constructive criticism and the habits of your audience. To ensure you are connecting audience engagement that helps them will help you.

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  What a summer it has been! I was one session into my first treatment of Lymphoma Stage 1 in my last post. Since that time, I have ridden an emotional roller coaster of drugs, side effects and radiation. Finally, I am three weeks past my last treatment for cancer and I am pleased to announce that I am cancer free! Ring that Bell!!
  I have learned that it is very important to enjoy, handle, and weigh each moment for itself. If one day is overwhelming, step back, and focus on one hour. There were days when I would be down to the moment. Sometimes, even those moments would be crushing. Thank goodness for my Aunts and Uncles, cousins and Luke’s (brother-in law) parents. When an individual moment would start to get to me, a well timed card to remind me to slow down and relax would arrive. Thank you.
  My parents and I are closer than ever from this experience. Many would be surprised to find that my Mom and I spent 6 weeks together alone without a single argument. When she left, I was glad to get my house back but sad that I didn’t have her there to chat with. She wouldn’t admit it but we bonded over binging GLOW and going to see John Wick 3 for my birthday. It was an experience to be sure.
  Friends took up the slack if I asked for assistance and gave me the room I needed when I was losing it. Thank goodness.
  I have always been a planner. Living for the last 9 months without being able to plan or focus my ambitions has been liberating. Surviving cancer has forced me to relax and live in the moment. I am not worrying about what the future is going to hand me. It will work out. 
  Madison has been a trooper. She has rolled with the punches, empathetic to my recovery, and sensitive to financial concerns. Many times I would ask if she would like to go do something or if she wanted something and she would say defer to staying at home. I figured out that she understood the situation and wanted me to be able to rest, save money, and spend the time with me. I was humbled by her spirit. She amazes me daily with her resilience and grit for moving forward. 
  A couple of interesting observations about this experience. 

• Your hair does grow back. In my case in a different color. Grey is a good color on me.
  
• Chemo sucks until two days before your next treatment. That is the spirit breaker. Just as you get to feeling better they dose you again. Ick.
  
• Steroids will keep me awake for days on end. Your body starts to vibrate after 36 hours with little to no sleep. Your eyes feel like they are going to pop. 
  
• Losing your ability to taste food during radiation results in a daily science experiment to find food that tastes better than cardboard. The bonus is you don’t eat anything sugary. I haven’t eaten a cookie in four weeks.
  
• I really missed coffee!
  

  If I can make it through the next five years without a recurrence I will be clear for good. I am pretty positive about the situation. I will take it one moment at a time. 2024 is my next magic number. Eff Cancer!

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   There are a few things in life I knew I would wear as a label as I got older. Teacher, Techie, Youtuber, Curmudgeon. All titles, along with quite a few unflattering ones I am sure, that I would acquire as I grew older and interacted with a larger, diverse group of people. My new job has seen me driving from campus to campus and stepping out from in front of a camera to direct behind the scenes action at the Aldine Broadcast Network. I am loving this new direction and enjoy working with a fabulous group of people.
   I did not count on carrying the title of Cancer patient. A future Cancer survivor or anything else that might have to do with the big C. If you hadn't heard already I was diagnosed at the beginning of March with stage 1 lymphoma. It was aggressive and began in a lymph node on the left side of my neck. I had noticed it at Christmas as a little pea size hard place that was growing and I went through a string of Doctors to figure out what was happening. 
    At this age I had been told to worry about cholesterol, blood pressure, being overweight. I had began working on that in August having lost 44 pounds since then. Blood pressure was fine and the DL's were dropping. The thing is we don't always get to have a perfect life. Sometimes there are curve balls and you just hope that you pay attention enough to catch it early. The tumor is confined to my neck and highly treatable.
     My oncologist has started me on chemo. Every three weeks, I get pumped full of toxic chemicals that attack and kill the tumor. After getting bigger than a dove bar, the first round has greatly reduced its size. The second round coming up promises to be even more harsh and really take this thing to task.    
   Why am I finally blogging about this? I have an amazing support system. They deserve some recognition and now that my hair is shedding like a Husky in a Florida summer. I thought I should give my supporters their due.
   Mom and Dad have been here since early March. Mom has been handling the paperwork and appointments. She helps keep me squared away with the meds, cleans at home and occasionally cooks a meal. I frustrate and anger her at times. I have been on my own for so long that I often find it hard to let her help. The pills I take to counter act side effects often leave me in a curmudgeonly mood that she recognizes and tells me to go to bed. Dad has been her able bodied helper and driver. He white-knuckles us through Houston traffic when I am unable to drive or if I am at work and they are getting some groceries. They have both been absolutely sent from heaven.
   The ABN Crew, Suzy, Kelley, Akilah, Michaelann, and Kim. These coworkers have worked to help me arrange my busy schedule so that when I feel better I can work and if I am down for a few days someone can step in. ABN looks after the network as well as their individual schools all while we get ready for the run for the summer rush to produce a number of training videos for the start of next year. Their dedication and hard work has been amazing. Brad Kaplan, Matt Tomaselli, Brian Kennedy, Chad Cochran, and Meredith McCune check on me and do obnoxious things to lift my spirit. I can't post what they did with the Aldine Inspire letters and sent me a picture of. If you look at Inspire and make a dirty word you get the idea. This still makes me laugh. I was at home watching the broadcast and got a good belly laugh from their after action pic.
   Dr. Ptomey, Sean O'Dea, Jacob Mitchell, Aunt Shirley, Aunt Lynn and Uncle Curt, my awesome cousins, all of whom have had cancer touch their lives. They have shared their knowledge, experiences and followed up with phone calls, Facetime, and a bunch of cards. They remind me that I am not alone. 
   I have five more sessions and the Doctor is highly encouraged that this will be cured at the end. If so I will be a lucky one. Many are not often as lucky as I am. I am with you in this fight (Stout, Allison and others) Drop me a line if you want to talk. We can share stories of hair loss, steroids and the crazy side effects. Cause in the end, Eff Cancer!

   It is stunning what has happened. In Harvey, Elwood P. Dowd is insisting to everyone that he has a friend named Harvey that others cannot see. He ends up in an asylum with doctors trying to help him as he continues to insist Harvey is a Pooka and that he is with him having a good laugh at everyone's expense. In a continuing disaster today the whole of the Houston area has seen the Pooka and we are not amused. 
   Everything started out as we would expect for a hurricane. This being my third since moving to Houston 16 years ago. I gathered food, water and gas. Sealed a pesky leak near the chimney and settled in with an iPad full of books, Game of Thrones to catch up on and plenty of Pop Tarts. The rain began. 
   I am writing this mainly for friends and family so I will make comparisons to Indiana weather. Rain in Indiana is ten-twenty minutes of down pour, lightening and in extreme cases tornadoes. Normal rain here is driving, soaking and lengthy. Harvey rain? Steady downpour. I have gone out a couple times and am usually pretty wet by the time I cross to the Jeep. Then there are the wrath of God downpours that go on and on. Pour a pitcher of water in your sink. No kidding that is what it looks like. A steady waterfall of gallons of water for hours. 
   My yard slopes to the east into the Spring wetlands. My little neighborhood slopes down hill to this bayou and drains very well. We still had a river of water in the street rushing that way and I personally had a nice trout stream in the backyard running under my fence. Not very deep but a nice three inch gush of water that thankfully kept on going to the bayou. My friends and coworkers have not been so lucky. Their streets didn't empty, their streams became ponds. An inexorable march towards their houses sitting a couple of feet above street level. 
   Sunday at noon the power went out. I didn't fret as things were bad to the south of Houston but not up north where I am in Spring. I hoped the power would be back soon. As the sun rose Monday I discovered a vastly different story. No power and a generator that won't start despite my father's conference call help, Youtube and a kicking or two. I drove around a little bit to charge devices and check out the surrounding area. Lots of water and trees that fell over, not due to wind but rather ground so wet they become top heavy and uproot. Returning home after not finding much open I took a nap. (Hey, whats a guy to do.) Monday afternoon with the rain beginning to come down even harder I took my food to Madison's mom. They live nearby and by some miracle still have power.
   Mayra hasn't killed any kids yet and Madison looks great. She is living the adventure in her My Little Pony PJ's. Coming home I found a Stripes gas station with ice so I picked up a bag. I settled in to read, listen to a battery powered radio, and eat some pork loin I grilled up.
   The reports have become to come in. Keep in mind that I live right next to the Grand Parkway or Highway 99. It is now closed, water over the road. I 45 the main highway I take to work. You have seen the pics on TV. It is a river flowing south. Cypresswood Drive where I lived near the Mormon Temple for two years in 2003-2005. Water so high they are using airboats and jet skis to rescue people. Meyer Park where I attempted to jog and get in shape is now a lake of fast flowing water. Inside 99 is 2200 square miles. You can fit Delaware in this space. We begin to see herds of cattle and horses being moved, the Cajun Navy (rescue group from Louisiana arrived) and people I follow on Instagram are organizing to help. As dark fell the mandatory evacuations hit around me. Areas that are picturesque near The Woodlands and over in Spring including an area where friends live are being told to get out. The spillways and dams are releasing and the levees south of them are failing. 
   I began to hear the airboats running last night. Saving people out in the dark. The unmistakable roar of their turbo engines throttling up and down. As I fall asleep around midnight I thank God that he plopped Madison's mom and myself in our respective neighborhoods. Safe. If a little inconvenienced by the lack of power. 
   Tuesday, I still by some miracle have hot water. No power, but gas water heaters in the attic are great for holding heat. The reports come in. More friends are displaced, staying with family or friends. I am land locked with no roads in or out of my area to get out and help them or bring them to me to stay. I jump in the Jeep and head to the nearest commerce. Luckily, I find a Panera that is opening and has hot coffee, cold iced tea and warm bread. I open the laptop to begin assessing the situation.
   Aldine ISD the school district I work for has two shelters open. M. O. Campbell Center is filled up with families from the Greenspoint area. Some may remember that area from when I worked at Spence Elementary. The district is feeding and housing displaced students and their families. The sad news comes in that a family of four kids and their grandparents from this community were lost when their van overturned in flood waters. Rayford Intermediate is being opened as well to shelter. Remember the flow of Spring Creek from East of my neighborhood? Mandatory evacuations are filling it up fast.
   A document has been posted on our ePortal. 17 schools reporting water incursions, four catastrophic, and 3/4's still to report in. Carver HS where my awesome teachers pushed all of our tech to the second floor early Friday hasn't checked in yet. I am crossing my fingers that I am not going to be spending next week inventorying items damaged in water incursions. Is your head spinning yet? Imagine a cube 2 miles by 2 miles filled with water. That is what we are experiencing. It is still raining, sideways as I look up and out the window. 
   In all of this, I need my friends and family to do something for me. Be encouraged by the way this community has pulled together to be the first responders. Houston is embracing help. Houstonians stepped up to say we are going to get this started and you all can help when you get here. No one gives a damn about citizenship status, boot straps, economics, and color. Everyone deserves to be safe, warm and secure. The looting reports are very few and far between. Don't believe the media that manages to report on them over and over. Don't get on Facebook and start casting stones. We don't need the President to visit if he isn't bringing a flat-bottomed boat. We couldn't care less about a damn wall when our friends and neighbors have stepped up. 
   When I get back to work I will be bringing in school supplies to replace those lost. If anyone wishes to help they can donate to the Red Cross. (They are running our MOC shelter.) If you want to be more direct I can facilitate getting supplies to Aldine schools in need. I am safe, dry and going back to kick the generator for a bit longer. I have seen Harvey and he isn't a Pooka. He is a force of nature that was 800 years in the making.

    Every Hicks grandchild remembers this little truck. Hours and hours we pushed this around Grandma's carpet playing everything from demolition derby to hauling cattle to market. Is this a tablet? No. Did it foster imagination absolutely. Some of my best memories are triggered by the smell of these old metal toys coming out of the wood toy box to play at Grandma's.
  First, I should mention this isn't the original little green truck. It sits at my parents house. Originally bought for my Dad during the 60's he has it sitting in a place of pride in his toy collection. I found this one online and picked it up for a pretty penny. The nostalgia of this old truck was to much to pass up. Why would I buy it?
   As cousins we would take a deck of cards and work them down into the shag carpet at Grandma's. We would lay out a huge farm that people would have to step over. If you go back through my posts I believe you will find a whole article about carpet farming. This truck however rates up there for entertainment. 
  Madison saw it and didn't get it. She couldn't believe that a few removable plastic Angus cattle, white removable stake fencing, and wheels that roll? What is the big deal? I often think I am expecting to much. She is a girl and for the life of me I still don't understand My Little Pony.
  We were watching a rerun of the Dukes of Hazzard the other day. She looked at me after a spectacular jump by the General Lee. "Daddy, I don't think that was very safe. It would tear up that nice car."

"I know kid. Still it's the General Lee, it has to rip around on country roads and jump the creeks! Let's go get my green truck. I will show you how they did it."

Madison is worried that her Daddy isn't quite operated with a full deck of cards.

   June 14 is one that I am sure some friends of mine will never let me live down. I said the word penis in front of the Assistant Superintendent of Curriculum for my school district. Yep, I even used the word peni! (Is it a word?) Oh my land what was I thinking. We don't use those words in front of important people. Even when they are older than me. I said it and I don't regret it.
   An art teacher friend told me that "My classes aren't truly creating or learning until there is "d***" in the art." He isn't advocating for the male form to be part of the art but he understands the adolescent minds of children (and some adults) who are going to gravitate towards the fun of putting sexual symbols in their art. 
   We had an interesting discussion about creativity and how often creativity stems from the graffiti and doodles that school children seem to put on everything they own. He points out that from the moment a student gets a calculator they are instantly figuring out how to write boobs with the numbers. (80085) I began to understand as I looked at art throughout history. Europe is dotted with famous statues with the male flagpole prominently displayed.

   The most famous is of course the Statue of David in Florence. Google returns an interesting subset of pictures adults will get an instant burst of adolescent giggles upon seeing the creative ways tourists will interact with the danglies. You begin to see what I am getting at. Our students, nay our children, explore what puritan America has hidden from prominent display. At some point we teach them that it is wrong to graffiti innocent white walls with the generous (or not) portions of man. My art teacher friend is communicating to his students that while it is humorous at times to include natures beauty it isn't always in your best interest to plaster it everywhere. 
   I took a walk through our end of year art show. I could see the influence of the use of forbidden subjects in a lot of pieces. I began to see that the students are determined to push the boundaries within good taste not as an expression of pornography or lewdness but as a statement. We had quite a few female artists in the show this year and the art ranged from a cow licking its nose to a slightly chubby girl in a small top. 
   The cow plays to the Rodeo art show. The girl? She is a depiction of a teenage desire to be seen but not quite sure if it is a good thing. She is hiding her face but not her imperfections. We could go on and on about how society treats young women and that this art is a symbol of the struggle each girl feels. But I digress, we were speaking of the p-word.

   The art installation my Maker Space club built in the library is based on the videos from Kalina Silverman's work. She asks "What would happen if we eliminated small talk and went straight to asking the hard questions." We crossed this idea with the TED talk by Candy Chang on her street art in recovering New Orleans that asked the question "What do you want to do before you die?" The students took some donated plywood and created these two boards which we put up in the library with some chalk for 9 weeks. We stood back and let the students answer the question.
   It was fun, sad, and inspiring to read the chalk responses. As soon as the board filled up we took pictures and erased it for another round. Everything was on the table. Students were talking about their dreams. Some big, some small, and many for others than themselves. We had everything from "Before I die I want to be a pirate! to Before I die I want to travel the world with the love of my life." One student wanted to "roll coal" another wanted to attend Coachella. The heart breaker? The young lady who wanted to "see her sister happy."
   In the heart of the transgender bathroom ridiculousness, this young lady was very upset. Her older sister had discovered that she needed to transition genders. We watched this play out at the school for four years and many struggled with the decisions she was making. It wasn't ours to question, understand, or judge. It was our place to support him in his learning and be sure that the pressures of the life he faced didn't end in tragedy. His younger sister saw this ongoing battle both at home and at school daily. She felt the deeply rooted depression he felt living as his nature-assigned-she and knew he was happier as a he. She expressed it on the Big Talk board. 
   This led to me introducing the board to the Superintendent of Schools. She left the appropriate dream of "Before I die I want to make our community a great place." The joke we had was that she had to make sure her picture didn't include anything inappropriate. At my presentation I splashed that slide and told the packed room of teachers that the boards were checked to make sure the ubiquitous penis hadn't made an appearance. It just wouldn't do to have the Superintendent signing a board with her dream and a big ol' willy was on the next line down.
   It was at this point that I realized the Assistant Superintendent of Curriculum and Instruction had slipped in the room. I had said the P-word! She laughed along with the rest of them. I was given quite the razzing by my fellow presenters afterward. After a few days I realized something. So what if one student had doodled a penis. It just meant that they were finally beginning to express creativity. Isn't that what we hope for children to do at school? It was a chalkboard. I could erase it and teach the student what an appropriate expression of art may be. 
  We need the students to be comfortable to grow creatively in our test obsessed world. The two minutes it would take to write on our chalkboards was worth the discussions it inspired. It showed the callous world that these students fates rested in their hands. That they had aspirations beyond living off of welfare as many assume when speaking of the neighborhood.
  I also might have felt validated. We have good kids who know when it is appropriate to be rude. These are the students that most of America looks down on as they fight the school to prison pipeline. Yet they know when to take pride and abstain from rude gestures. I hope they remember the positive thoughts they expressed and continue to build on these ideas to be successful Americans. 
  If telling this story and making sure others hear it means I say penis in front of 80 adults I can do that. I believe my Assistant Super got it as well. She didn't question or challenge. She wanted to know what we were going to do next?
  Personally, I do feel a bit cheated. We didn't get a penis. So by the art teacher's definition we weren't truly making art were we? 

   If you are a fan of snakes I apologize in advance. this is not a snake friendly article and did result in the death of a brown rat snake. I don't apologize. I let him occupy my garage as long as my heart could take it. 
   I have seen him over the last year or so at the most inopportune times. He was a climber so his appearances were often in places that were least expected. Like the time he fell off of my garage door when I put it up at spring break. (Never, ever stand under the garage door when it is going up.) 
   He kept the anole, salamander and toad population down for which I was grateful. However, I tend to view snakes like Indy.

   Last night, Madison and I had been at Tae Kwon Do practice. We came home parked the car and spent a couple hours inside practicing her moves and eating supper. About dusk we went out to the car so I could take her back to mommy.  I drive a Dodge Challenger and Madison always leaves the seat flopped open so she can get back in. I haven't exactly been Mr. Clean lately either. Receipts and napkins on the floor board. I keep saying I am going to the car wash as soon as it stops raining. (someday soon I swear)
   I like my car. It has been a great purchase, good mileage, looks great, speedy, and if I took the pink car seat out of it I may even get a second look at a stop light. I also try not to be to alarmist around wildlife. I don't want Madison to grow up scared of everything that moves. 
  Okay, I will admit. The roaches here in Texas are huge and have made my heart speed up. The one that flew in between my ear and my phone startled me. All right, I threw the phone and jumped up with a manly squeal. It was more of a high pitched grunt. I swear! I have been known to flinch when I grab the gate to the back yard and an anole is hiding in the handle. That was more of a yuck factor cause I wasn't expecting it. (Scrubbing your hand raw doesn't help. You still feel the damn thing for a day or two after.)
   Last night, Madison jumped in the car and I reached for the seat. Something moved on the dash. I focused in to see something brown and slithery moving. Madison was very calm and collected as Daddy set a new standing high jump record. (I can clear three inches if I am motivated, apparently.) She noticed my movement and the ear splitting shout of a superior manly tone, I promise. (The neighbors dogs were whining in protest. Being as the pitch was only audible to our canine friends.) 
   My heart beating to the William Tell Overature, and my heebie jeebies under slightly better control I reached in and covered Madison's eyes as she was trying to get out of the car. I had moved the seat back and forth startling Mr. Brown Snake sitting on my dash. All 18 inches were coiled and ready after the seat had startled it. I didn't want her trying to get past it so I asked her to climb to the other side of the car. She just wanted to know why was there a snake on the dash.
   This is where I redeem myself. I am such a genius it amazes me. I ran to the other side of the car and opened the door. Was it to much to hope that the snake could slither on through? I mean really. A tip of the hat and a good day? Apparently he wanted some tunes because he made for the stereo knobs. Madison was asking what to do. I was asking her what to do. I needed a snake catcher! (Is there such a thing?) Where were my gloves? Could I grab its twitchy little tail and yank it out? Indecision and decisions.
   "Daddy, can I get out of the car he isn't going to bite me?" She is my hero. Look at the size of this thing! She wants to slide right by? It could expand that jaw and swallow her whole! (I will admit that is an exaggeration. I really had this image of the thing striking and hanging off of one of us.)
   "Madison stay in the car at the back. If it moves yell for me. I am going to get something from the garage to catch it." She didn't like this idea but I was a chubby blur as I palmed my keys to get in the garage. What could I use? Two brooms like the one above were close at hand. I scampered back to the car.
   "What are you going to do with those Daddy?" I planned to pinch it between the two and extract. If that bad boy fell to the floor board I might as well sell the car. I would never get him out. I reached in with my first broom. 
   Slapping it down on the snakes head I had it! I swept it towards me. I hadn't planned this out very well. He slid nicely along the dash and slapped against the door to land on the ground! I have on flip flops and no socks. Snake! The other broom scissored across to slap-shot the brown baddie in front of the car. 
   I am man! Hear me roar! (chest thumping may have happened as I struck the best snake beating pose ever seen) I lifted my raggedy Target Up and Up broom over my head. No choke up, I swung down ready to cut Mr. Brown Snake in half. Whack, whack, whack. Knees bent, shoulders into it. whack, whack, whack How dare you defile my car!!
   Proper posture was important. Knees bent, high back swing. Whack whack whack. Pieces of plastic were flying. Little bits going everywhere. The first broom sacrificed itself valiantly bludgeoning Mr. Brown snake. He finally stopped twitching. I used the second broom to be sure. (I have seen the movies, you don't get close. That's when he comes back.)
  I swept him to the side of the neighbors house, belly up, no more twitches. Madison emerged from the car. "Are you okay, Daddy?" She led me to my side of the car to have a seat. "You got him good Daddy. He's dead." The blood rushing in my ears slowed, I cleared my thoughts. Madison hopped in as I started the car.
   On reflection I may have overreacted a tad bit. We think he slithered in through the vent as the car was locked and the windows were up. Once he was out I could have let him go. I just couldn't. He had challenged me in one of my sacred places. This is my Challenger. How dare wildlife think that I won't protect my bucket seat? I had images of him slithering into the floor and surprising me while driving. Popping from an old Chick Fil A bag to check my soprano voice. When I got back from dropping Madison off I checked and he made a meal for some lucky animal. I think.
   Believe me. I poked around a bit before I got in the car for work this morning. Brrrr. Life in the city. What can I say?

  The iconic image of a brand is something farmers identify with. My Facebook page has been blessedly free of political ads but overflowing with arguments of red versus green, and Dodge, Chevy and Ford. If a candidate could tell us which is better they should be President because the chaos surrounding these branding memes are both amusing and a little sad. I laugh at the Fix Or Repair Daily jokes. I get frustrated that red doesn't mean Massey Ferguson but rather International and green fans are a bit cocky for my taste. (I like John Deere but the fans can be unruly.)
   The sad part is that this excitement is all reserved for bragging rights over a commercial product. We are arguing over an expensive item we have purchased. No one wants to feel like they have purchased an inferior product so they stand up for their decision. As you can see I have been adding my own twist to the argument. 
   We recently were awarded a grant for a 3D printer at school. I installed it in our library maker-space and began experimenting with it. It took me about three prints of some really boring stuff and one awesome Lightsaber model before I searched tractors. I found the above handy little print.
   This is the older version of the Massey Ferguson logo and I spent many hours running my fingers over the steel version on Hicks Farms Massey Ferguson 1080. This logo is probably the first brand that I can remember as a child followed closely by John Deere and Ford. I have even bid on the cast metal version of this on eBay only to be beaten by someone who may have had a real need for it in a restoration project. My lawn mower doesn't need it but I feel compelled by a nostalgic history to find one off of an old steering column somewhere and put it on the shelf with the rest of my man toys.
​   This is why when I gather teachers for professional growth opportunities I ask them if they have begun the process of branding their corner of the world wide web. I am always amazed at the comments. "Why would I do that?" "How does that make me a better teacher?" " I don't need people to find me." "I keep my personal life personal and school life separate." "If the district wants me to have a social network page they will provide it." "I don't have the time."
   Interestingly, most teachers have private pages where they have no fear of friending me. I don't always respond because this is their private page and I don't want to know their personal lives. I only want to know their professional interests so I can make sure they are receiving the support they need. This leads to the reason I try to get everyone to brand themselves. This isn't about promotion, this is about staking your claim and managing your information. 
   If you don't manage your public "brand" someone else is free to do so. Unethical individuals will start posting things about you, someone you upset will flame you publicly on the internet, or even worse you may be tagged by someone in a social situation and you are unaware. A potential employer or worse, a parent, will find all of these unfortunate and often unfair postings when they search. You will be caught unaware and that is not a good thing.
   Instead I recommend to educators that they get involved with creating a brand. It could be as simple as a blog page with Facebook and Twitter to start with. They don't have to do much updating but I think they will find that they will expand their social brand as they hear of other ways to leverage social media for their educational goals. 
   Imagine someone finding one of my iTechNation mugs on eBay in twenty years and buying it because they remember Jake, Matt, Chad and Meredith having fun webcasting every week when they were new teachers or students in their schools. I don't expect a green vs red argument but I will say that I have a couple of pottery pieces from Mr. Wagoner. My high school art teacher is a perfect example of creating a brand and spending a lifetime building its reputation.
   Just for the record. Massey, then Deere, and Ford trucks over anything else. I have spent so much time in them I couldn't be a fan of anything else.
​

  How many times have you started moaning that "technology" never works right? It has become a theme in our lives to blame anything and everything on "technology" not working. You would think we are all being forced to buy into products that never work. Check out my recent FaceBook post on the subject.
   "Do you ever wonder if early Model T owners who had to turn their cars around to back up hills ever complained as much as we do about "technology". I would imagine that they were excited at the adventure. Imagine a common man or woman owning a car. Something previously only afforded by the rich. Now imagine that same individual could now afford to carry the collected knowledge of the world in their pocket. Do you think they would continually complain and moan about technology? Whine about how it "never works"? Technology is destroying the family as we know it? Or would they Google why the Model T will go up a hill in reverse and not forward? Maybe figure out how to solve the problem instead of complaining about it using their access to the collected knowledge of the world in their pocket."
   So why would someone who bought a Model T back up a hill? It's not like I have a Model T to figure out why and a lawyer on my FB page asked me why they would do this. After a few seconds of reflection on some stories that my Grandpa told me I decided to share.
   Grandpa Hicks was born and raised at the top of the hill right outside of Perrysville, Indiana. He would tell us about how he would get up and hitch up the wagon to deliver the milk to the people of Perrysville. He explained that he would have to get up before most kids would be getting out of bed to go milk the cows. His mother would take care of the milk after he brought it up from the barn and then he would take his wagon down to the town to deliver the bottled milk.
   Eventually they bought a delivery truck to help him out. I don't remember the make and model but he would talk about some of the trials and tribulations he would deal with. He once mentioned the horse taking off on him before he could get it hitched in. He fell in the mud and had to go back to the barn to retrieve the horse who didn't want to work. He spoke of how the truck was an improvement. He showed me once how the old trucks and tractors while being easier to work with could be more dangerous. They often didn't work with electric start. They would use a crank that was inserted in the front of the motor. 
   He showed me once at the Perrysville Fun Days how you could shatter your arm with those old cranks. An old car didn't want to start for the parade. The owner used the crank. He held it in such a way that if the crank caught and spun on him it would come back around to break his arm. The scary result was a ten year old me watching that crank spinning like mad until it shook loose from the catch.
   Imagine an intermediate level boy not only working before school but dealing with animals and equipment that could hurt him? Do you think he was constantly complaining about his "technology"? He would tell you how nice it was to be riding on a seat with a spring that didn't require hitching up or brushing down. Why would he back up a hill?
   Grandpa mentioned two reasons. The gas pick up line was at the front of the tank and old vehicles didn't have baffles in them to keep the gasoline stable. If the angle was severe going forward all of the gas would drain away from the pickup. This would mean the vehicle would stall and roll back down the hill. 
   They would also back up the hill because the reverse gear was often a much lower torque ratio than the forward gears. Grandpa mentioned trying to get up the hill on a snowy day may be difficult in the higher forward gears. Turning around and backing up however utilized the lower reverse gear which would create a better situation for pulling him up the hill.
   Don't believe me? Get out your phone and Google it. Grandpa Hicks lived it. I am sure he complained a little but I bet he wouldn't be caught by his family complaining about his "technology" at that age. Imagine in another forty years when I am approaching my late eighties. What stories will I tell Madison's children that they will think of as old? What will they not be able to imagine about how I was raised? (Bicycles without helmets! Oh my!) 
   I can honestly say I won't be complaining about technology to everyone who will listen. You never know when someone will get sick of hearing that line and write a blog about it.

  Those who know me probably don't understand the levels of anxiety that I felt when I was young. More than just hiding behind Daddy's leg or refusing to play sports after a certain age I would often bull ahead with whatever needed to be done due to the anxiety that I would feel to step up and do what we would practice.
  This often led to me behaving or acting in a certain way that may have been a little odd or as a know it all. I was compensating for what I didn't know and the anxiety over not being what others may have wanted me to be. That all changed pretty rapidly after a little play in the Spring of 1990.
   Grandma Hicks introduced me to the Peanuts when I was very young. She would read the Peanuts, Family Circle, and Andy Capp to me as a child. I always wished for a dog like Snoopy and identified with Charlie Brown. Clumsy, unconfident, and often  plodding were adjectives I would use to describe the way I felt. I tried to do what Captain America would do but often found myself in trouble, flat on my back, or completely wrong about ideas that I had formed with little to no information.
   In the Spring of 1990 I was coming off of a semi-successful role in Harvey as Dr. Sanderson. The role was a supporting part with a few pages of dialogue. Most notably the character had a long speech which, try as I might to memorize it, I could never quite get the whole thing down. We ended up taping the text to the table I was seated at for a confidence booster. That Spring we decided to try a new type of musical and I knew I was the best man for the lead.
   Your A Good Man, Charlie Brown was to be my first and only lead role in the three years I was on the stage at North Vermillion HS and was it a doozy. Lines, songs, and more as I played the one character I felt born to be. To this day I can't tell you how comfortable it felt to be Charlie Brown. I identified with him so much that, as I took on the role and we took the show on the road to performing at elementary schools, the anxiety went away. I remembered most of my words although Becky Sheridan (Wagner) and Julie VanSant (Dove) would probably disagree about the total number I recalled.
   Just like Charlie Brown I had felt disinclined to play sports because I couldn't kick the football. I would almost hyperventilate even thinking about asking a girl out and I would mangle my words when someone of authority would ask me a question. The group that got together to put on Charlie Brown became a strong group of actors who put on top performances together. All of them are successful today and are raising families in the best North Vermillion tradition.
   I took Madison to see the new Peanuts movie yesterday. She exhibits many of the personality traits and quirks that I do. She can be confident in front of a camera and squeamish with strangers. She can trip over a feather and then say the most intelligent things. She had watched a few of the old Charlie Brown Holiday specials with me but hasn't gotten into the "dailies" as the newspaper comics are called. She went to her first movie in a theater and was completely absorbed by the antics of the Peanuts gang.
   What a great movie, the message was perfect for a seven year old girl to hear. She saw Chuck get knocked down, be scared, and behave in service to others. The message was perfect for children today who are often bullied or enabled to be rude. Since this was her first trip to a movie theater since she was three (Lets just say I wasn't paying attention at a Disney 4D movie. Smooth move Daddy.) I was thrilled to see that she was willing to sit still and quietly watch the whole movie.
   Charlie Brown was a turning point in my confidence and growth as a young adult. I hope that Madison will always remember this movie as something she did with her Daddy. That I took her to see a movie with a message of hope and understanding.
   I wonder how she would feel about the new Star Wars. I may be reaching on that one.