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Saturday, July 30, 2011

Nestor's Mailbag - Olympics

Olympic Sporty Guys

Dear Olympic;

It's me, Nestor. I hope you don't mind I write you when you so busy getting ready for summer Olympic games. I know is huge big headache to get everything ready on time. Huh, look at that. I just start to write and already I got good idea, but don't worry, I not send letter until after big bash. That way you get to keep nose in own business when you need it. We could have nice chat later. Is no big deal anyway. I just got couple questions about Olympic games. Would be good idea you should explain to people about it.

 In first place, how come you got so many sick athletes playing games? Everybody always got to go to drugstore - even coaches. After competition, test show they still got disease anyway. You really think this is good idea? Let me give you little bit friendly advice. Don't worry, it's free. No red tape attached. You should try old country remedy for sick athletes. You could make nice little necklace from piece binder twine and seven juicy cloves garlic fresh from garden. Just hang around neck for seven days. You get it - seven cloves for seven days? Works like magic every time and no more drug store medicine. If athletes really sick, put one extra clove between teeth and chew nicely. Hoy boys, you get huge big surprise how fast they get healthy and strong - even smell strong! 

Other thing would be good idea for you to explain to people is what means some of these games. Example - you got whole bunch o' people throw spears in goofy spear throwing game called javelin throwing. Everybody throws far as he can to find out who is winner. What kind of game is this? You got no bull's eye. What is point of throwing far if you don't even hit side of barn? Buffalo just laugh at goofy hunter - maybe give him taste of horn in seat of pants if he not careful. That would be good game - see how fast hunter can run other way. But first you got to find out how far buffalo can run before he get tire.

Maybe that's how you figure out relay race. Hunter miss buffalo, buffalo chase him so he give spear to other guy who run some more. Hoy boys - big mistake. Buffalo knows who throw spear. He don't care about other guy who runs and gives to other guy who runs too. He gonna get hunter with bad aim. Let me give you little bit friendly advice. Don't worry, it's free - no red tape attached. Hunter who throw spear shouldn't go sit down on bench. He should go to showers right away quick before buffalo find him, for sure!

That's 'nother thing you should explain to people. Races, I mean. What kind business is races supposed to be? First everybody line up on starting line, seems to take whole hour. Everybody take off pants and stand around in underwear shaking arms and legs like going to be hot shot magic trick. Then everybody crouch down to look for four-leaf clover when guy shoots off starting gun. All guys or girls take off like they gonna beat the bullet. Okay, is good idea, but they run hundred meters and stop and look around. What they looking for - the bullet? Don't they know man with gun shoot blanks?

Oh, calm down - I just make little joke. I know they not racing against bullet. But you gotta admit whole thing looks kind o' fishy. After whole huge big production to get ready for race, they run like deer for hundred meters, then they stop. Whole audience clap. Now runners look around little bit, put pants back on, and go sit down. Holy Moley, now I get it! They got to see who gets best pair o' pants.  Just like going to church on Sunday and come home with brand new pair overshoes. Is this good idea when everybody watching? No, no - you need new pants, you got to get a job, save up money and go to store and buy. Never mind swipe other guy's pants. What is guy who lose race gonna do - go home in gotchies?

Let me give you little bit friendly advice. Don't worry - it's free - no red tape attached. Don't give guys who run relay races no more little sticks to give to 'nother guy. You give them mailbag. Tell him to run to next town and deliver mail. Hoy Boys! Canada Post get huge big surprise! I bet my big boots they jump a mile high to get such good service! Then runners can say for sure they run for Canada - just like pony express. Look at that. They don't even need hot shot Olympic Committee. Only they got to keep pants on or some ladies get all excited.

Same thing with guys who throw spears. Hoy boys, you think I out of ideas already? No way Jose! This is Nestor you talking to. You want to do something useful? Spear guys should go to places where is lots o' grouchy Canada geese. If they get lots o' geese, they could feed whole army of people who go to food banks. Feathers make nice cozy blankets for homeless people. Well okay, if you want to give prize is okay - but only for head shots. See, I told you. Is easy to have fun and games and still do something good for whole country. Is whole lot better than spend huge big pile o' cash to go overseas to take off pants. If you got to take pants off, go to bedroom and don't embarrass nobody. 

You got to use head little bit to do "value added" business. Could be whole new "Value Added Olympics" if you play cards right. Ha ha, you laugh. What does old pig farmer know about "value added" anyway? You be surprised what pig farmer knows. Some hot shot economist make up new name for how to do better business, but pig farmer already knows all about it. In depression my daddy take load of oats to grain elevator. Elevator guy says he give him ten cents a bushel - tops. Daddy says no - four-fifty a bushel.  Elevator guy laughs at him - tell him he's nuts. Daddy takes load home and drives to pig barn. Shows oats to pigs. He tells them is top grade - four-fifty a bushel. Hoy Boys, pigs are so happy they squeal like pigs! Daddy makes nice chop and feed whole business to them. After, he butchers pigs and makes nice ham sausage. He sells whole works for good price and never go back to elevator guy again. Daddy find out he can stay home, look after family if he do value added business and everything hunky dory.

Now you see - is not so hard to figure out how to have lots o' fun and games and still do good for people. You save lots o' money too. Instead of go to fancy gym for exercise, you go to pig farm - carry slop pails to trough - get strong right quick. If you want to learn run fast, take nice stroll in my brother Stachu's cow pasture. Bull is always there, ready to give you good work out. Maybe you want to think about that little bit. Hoy boys - you never believe I even got good job for think about things. Just hitch up horses to set of harrows and go clean up summer fallow on back quarter. While you're at it you could talk about whole Olympic business to wrong end of horse. Would be just like having meeting with board of directors. You feel right at home. Best part is you get free room and board and ten bucks a day.

Holy Moley! I bet you five rubles you never think of such a thing! Listen, no need to say thanks. I good Canadian. I glad to help out anytime. You should drop by sometime. We could sit on my balcony and have nice chat about more ideas. I still got good supply of ham sausage and my boy live close by. He always got some extra beer. Would be good visit.

Your Pal,
Nestor Kropatnik PF (Retire)

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Nestor's Mailbag - Education (special)

I've often had a thing about people who need special education. It seems that the people in charge of education have the idea that one must learn things only in a certain way. If you can't do that - too bad! Well, that's not how it is. I have the biggest respect for people like my granddaughter Morgan Epp who is a blind/deaf Intervenor. or my sister's neice who is a speech therapist, who might advise these administrative cowboys exactly where it's at. Well -enough said. Let Nestor speak for himself:
Education Minister

Dear Ed;

It's me, Nestor. Ho, ho, I bet you five rubles you never think you gonna get letter from old Nestor! Maybe you figure out I far too busy being CEO of pig farm to write to busy CEO of teachers. But I got big surprise for you. Now I retire, I got time to give you hand with big mess you make with special education. Don't worry, it's free - no red tape attached.

Hoy, boys! You got nose so deep in fancy shmansy psychology books is no wonder left hand don't know where is right hand. You don't need all that. Everything you need is already in farm chores. You just got to know how to use it. Don't forget. Everybody got special needs. Everybody need special education - even teachers, maybe even Education Minister. Let me tell you little story. You gonna get huge big surprise.   

Actually I little bit nervous telling special education secrets to big boss of teachers. Maybe I gonna have to sit in corner with dunce cap - again. But by now I too old for that. Don't worry, I didn't forget about that business. Wouldn't have been such a big stink if snot-nose little brother don't have such a big mouth. But no, he gotta go home and tell grand daddy about bunyak big brother Nestor is dunce at school. Sometimes little brothers make lots o' trouble. Hoy boys - that Stashu - give me huge big pain sometimes.

Grand daddy sit in big chair, look in my eye and curl up trigger finger to say 'come here, little bunyak'. I hang head like sad little dog and wait for big lecture in mother tongue. I not disappointed. Grand daddy tells me Kropatniks never sit in corner like dunces. How come I decide to change rules? I tell him I don't decide, teacher decide. How come, he wants to know. I tell him I forget poem I supposed to recite.

"Poem - poem?" grand daddy yell at me. Holy Moley! Now I gonna get it for sure! That Stashu - he gonna pay huge big price for shoot off mouth, for sure!

All of a sudden grand daddy get big sneaky grin on old face and says "I like poems! You stand up straight and I gonna tell you one".

I bet you five rubles I jump a mile high. Maybe I not gonna get it after all. Grand daddy tells me long poem in mother tongue. He knows whole thing off by heart. Is all about little willow who grows up to be strong big switch for dusting off seat of pants from boys who sit in dunce's stool. Whole time grand daddy is still smiling like sneaky old fox and I look around to spot willow switch.

Grand daddy ask me if I like poem. What I gonna say - no? "Oh yes, grand daddy - is very nice poem".

Now he want to know do I want to learn it. "Of course", I tell him. He says he got perfect way to learn poem so I never forget. Do I want to see? "Of course grand daddy". Hoy boys, I can't believe maybe this time is no willow switch.

Grand daddy takes me out to granary. He gives me huge big grain scoop and opens sack for me to fill. Every time I dig in to grain we say a line of poem together. Every time I empty scoop in sack we say another line. Scoop - say a line. Dump - say a line - like that. Forty bushels later we come to last verse.

Grand daddy ask if I know poem now. Hoy, boys, all I know is how heavy is forty bushels oats. I tell him no.

"Too bad", says grand daddy. "We start again". He dumps out whole forty bags of oats.

When he hears me groan, grand daddy says, "Don't be crybaby. At least I don't make you put oats in one grain at a time. This time you pay attention. Now shaddap and say out loud".

Hoy boys, you bet your big boots I pay attention! I take every word in my brain and stick him on like fly paper. When we finish I got to recite poem again. We get to verse seventeen and grand daddy dumps out one bushel bag.

"Why you do that?" I complain.

He says, "Two wrong words. Says verse again".

I say verse again and he says, "Okay, fill him up".

Same thing happen in verse twenty-two, and thirty, and thirty-eight. At least I don't have to dump out whole forty bushels. Next time I recite poem I get everything right. Now maybe I can go in house and take it easy.

Grand daddy have other idea. He makes me get book where is my poem. When he sees poem he laughs and says, "This is sissy pants poem - only four verses."

We hitch up team to wagon and I get to load up oats for hammermill to making chop. Holy Moley - eighty pounds a bag - forty bags - my back is broke - arms too! Grand daddy says, "You look little bit tire. You rest and read poem to me on way to mill". I tell him thank you.

Only problem is poem is in English and grand daddy don't understand so I got to say in mother tongue. Now he says it sounds good but don't rhyme. It's got to rhyme or is no poem. I start to think maybe would be better to dust off seat of pants with willow switch and forget about stupid poem. But I smart enough to keep trap shut or else I still got to learn poem and get pants dusted off as bonus for complaining.

We dump out everything at mill and I get grain scoop again. Scoop up grain and say a line. Dump in hopper and say a line. By time we finish I can say in English and in mother tongue - even backwards if I want. On way home grand daddy says to me, "Thank you for big help to make chop and for teaching me nice poem. Today we had special education. You learn two poems in two languages at same time as learn how to make chop for pigs - just like professional pig farmer. I learn small sissy pants poem to say in English. When I tell to grandma, she gonna think I Leo Tolstoi. That's special".

Next day I go to school and say poem just like that. Teacher very happy - tell me I do perfect. Now go sit down. I say no - I not finished yet. I say also in mother tongue - even make it rhyme. Teacher says I must be bilingual. Now he thinks I smart kid after all. After that I never sit in corner with dunce cap again.

Now you see - that's not so hard. You don't need whole bunch o' huge big words to make lessons easy for students. They don't pay attention anyway. You do that and all you get is bored kids who grow up and know nothing. No, no. You got to figure out ways for students to pay attention so they learn something from teacher and teacher learn something from student. That way everybody feels good.

Listen, you should drop by for visit sometime when you not busy with nose in psychology books. We could sit on my balcony and have some nice ham sausage. My boy lives close by and he always got couple extra beers. I could give you more ideas about special education. Maybe you could bring bunch o' special education teachers to pig farm for lesson about special education. My daughter Olga is CEO of pig farm now I retire, but she knows poem about little willow switch as good as me and grand daddy. She be very happy to give special education to teachers.

Your pal,

Nestor Kropatnik PF (Retire)