In the Pad with Scottie Poindexter

Introduction:

One day on Facebook, I noticed one of my friends posting mini-journals about her experience as a framer for the arts and crafts store, Michael’s. She and I became friends after meeting each other through OkCupid. We both have common goals of taking over the world and expressing our creativity in some shape and fashion. That day I read her posts and found myself drawn to her dark humor and became fond of her stories. After reading her umpteenth post, I decided to invite her to post here on the site. Without further adieu, here is fellow mad scientist, Claire Jacques!

Tales From the Frame Shop by Claire Jacques

Greetings, Scottieholics! (Sorry, I know that’s Scottie’s line, but I
couldn’t resist…) My name is Claire Jacques, and Scottie, my good
friend and partner-in-crime, has graciously asked me to write an entry
as a guest blogger for Scottropolis. Scottie particularly enjoys the
darkly humorous essays that I write from time to time about a job I
had until the beginning of last month, working as a custom framer at a
Michael’s arts and crafts store, and so he requested that I write one
for my guest blog entry. Nothing like a little gallows humor to
brighten up your day! So, without further ado, the latest in a long
succession of tales from the crypt… I mean, the Michael’s frame
shop, that is.

The story I am going to tell today is about one of my former
co-workers at the frame shop. Although I have mentioned him briefly
once or twice in some of my other essays about my job as a framer,
I’ve never referred to him by name, so as to protect his privacy. But
because this story is almost entirely about him, I have assigned him a
pseudonym so I can call him by name in the story, thus making it
easier for me to recount what happened, while still not divulging his
true identity. I’ll hereafter refer to him as Jude, after a song I
like by the Beatles.

I’m going to start my story with something Jude said on my very first
day on the job at the frame shop. I was talking with the framing
manager about what I’d been doing at the store before I started in
framing, which was working on the replenishment team, or, as it’s more
colloquially known, being an overnight stocker. I told her I’d
initially chosen that job because I had wanted to interact with
customers as little as possible, but that I’d asked to be transferred
to framing because the overnight and early morning shifts the
replenishment team had to pull were driving me into an early grave.
While I was telling the manager all that, Jude had been at the
production counter, within earshot of our conversation. Jude is a guy
of about thirty with a British accent, dark hair, and altogether the
snarkiest sense of humor I’ve ever seen. At my remark about avoiding
customers, he said darkly, “You know, if you don’t like dealing with
customers, you’re in the wrong place, that’s for sure.” Now, the
second I heard Jude say that, I should have dropped everything, run
for the hills, and never looked back. Because his voice was filled
with such foreboding that any sane person would have picked up on his
subtext of “Oh, if you work as a framer you’ll be working with
customers, all right. And each and every one of them is the Devil
incarnate.” But I’ve always been a glutton for punishment. And my
sanity (or lack thereof) has always been a matter for debate. And so I
stayed.

As it turned out, Jude’s prophecy, such as it was, didn’t begin to
come true until I’d been at the Michael’s frame shop for about two
weeks. Up until that point, Jude, as well as the frame shop manager
and the other two framers in the shop, had been protecting me as well
as they could from the customers who came to the framing counter,
every one of whom was so mentally unstable that they could easily have
been diagnosed with something from the DSM-IV. Didn’t really matter
what, exactly… one of the framers could have just opened the book at
random and picked one, because odds were, whatever their finger landed
on would more than likely apply: histrionic personality disorder, or
anorexia, or social anxiety, or even blennophobia. Because no matter
what mental illness diagnosis we would have cared to assign them, they
would have wound up being better off than they were before; because
now, the fact that they were being completely ridiculous was not
indicative of anything that we as framers did (and the fact that they
implied as much is simply asinine) it was instead proof positive that
they were, in fact, severely disturbed. But, like I said, the others
were protecting me from the brunt of the impact of crazy people on my
psyche. That is, until about two weeks in.

After I’d been working at the frame shop for a couple of weeks, the
framing manager figured I’d been training long enough (that, and
business was starting to pick up on account of it being graduation
season) and so she started scheduling me for shifts that didn’t
necessarily coincide with those of another framer. The first day that
happened, an angry customer came up to the counter with a piece of
framed artwork which, although it looked okay to me, apparently didn’t
live up to her exacting standards, whatever those were, and started
shouting at me. I had no clue what to do, because I hadn’t assembled
it (I wasn’t even allowed to assemble frames at that point) and I had
no idea what the protocol was for dealing with evil, I mean
complaining, customers. If it had been up to me, I would have said,
“Get out of my store with your bad attitude and your ugly designer
handbag before I kick you in the teeth,” but a lot of retail
establishments (for reasons that are beyond my understanding) figure
it’s a good idea to give such customers preferential treatment, I
suppose because they want them to come back, be angry again, and bring
their angry friends with them. Sounds like a great idea, right? But,
like I said, I didn’t know what the protocol was for encouraging said
angry customers to come back, and furthermore, I was afraid – I’d just
been shouted at for something I didn’t do, remember? Fortunately, Jude
was also there that day, but he was taking his lunch break when the
angry customer came in with her frame and her nitpicking and her ugly
designer handbag. So, being utterly at a loss, I told the customer
that the other framer was at lunch and would be back in a few minutes
to assist her. I did my best to hold her off until Jude came back, but
the woman was like a shark, looking around repeatedly for something to
bite.

Eventually the customer made it clear that she didn’t care to be
patient, so I told her I’d go up to the front of the store and watch
for Jude, grateful to get away from Her Royal Rudeness. Eventually I
saw Jude in the parking lot, walking toward the front door. I felt
terrible for accosting him before he even had a chance to get in the
door, but I was completely out of options at that point. He seemed
surprised to see me waiting for him, so I explained the situation as
quickly and succinctly as I could. At that point Jude got a look in
his eye that I had seen once or twice in my two weeks in the frame
shop. It was a look that could kill, a look that meant he was out for
blood. I was a little startled but not afraid, because I knew that
look wasn’t directed at me, it was for the vulture with the “problem”
frame. He strode down the aisle with that look in his eyes, a look of
bloodlust, of pure hatred, toward the custom framing counter, and said
to the customer, “Hello, my name is Jude. What can I do for you
today?”

Well, to make a long story short, Jude and I managed to escape with
our lives, but just barely. Like myself, Jude was probably dying to
rip the problem customer to shreds (it was the least she deserved for
curtailing his lunch break.) However, etiquette, thousands of years of
human evolution, and, to a lesser extent, the rules imposed on
employees of the store, dictated that Jude hold his tongue. Which was
really too bad, because I always get a kick out of seeing a caustic
wit in action. Particularly at the expense of customers, when every
one of them is the Devil incarnate.

BA-HA-HA-HA-HA

Introduction:

As we enter into 2012, we look forward to start off with a clean slate and establishing goals we want to achieve. The guy I’m introducing is someone who achieved his goal with determination, desire, and dedication. I started interacting with him via Facebook and email since the early days of his column on Wrestleview.com. The uniqueness and the structure of his column lured me in as a reader as well as a wrestling fan. I even had the privilege of writing an introduction to his column back in 2010.

A few weeks ago, we chatted the idea about him doing a guest entry for the site. We came to the idea of inspiring readers of the site they can achieve their goal(s) regardless of their situation. Hopefully, this man’s story will inspire us all in 2012. I introduce to you, Anthony Valvo.

Blessed by Anthony J. Valvo

First off, I want to thank my good friend (and fellow Pittsburgh Penguins supporter) Scottie Poindexter for allowing me to post something in his blog. When he asked me if I could type something in his blog, I did not hesitate and was honored that I can have this opportunity. I had no idea what to type. Usually, I am “Mr. V” of Wrestleview.com, the site’s “Resident Teacher”. That is a title that I smile every time someone mentions that. A lot of people know this about me, as I am a certified teacher in the state of Pennsylvania and after a long wait I finally accomplished my dream to doing something with my certificate and my college degree. Now not many people would ask how I got to my position in August of 2011 at the school I started off the summer after I graduated from Edinboro University in 2004 with a degree in Elementary Education.

Will I say that the journey was easy? Absolutely not! I considered giving up on it, working something that I knew would not promise happiness and I just can’t do that, it would be unacceptable. I was told a few times in college that I would never make it, that I was not really on par with the other student teachers. When I struggled as a field teacher (one step below “student teacher”), it was the wakeup call I needed. I won’t disclose my cooperating teacher’s name, but the school was located in Erie, PA and she really made my time miserable. My Field Professor encouraged me with harsh words and feared that I would not succeed because I was frazzled with my Erie experience. I just did what I normally did, chalked it up for experience and I tried at it again.

Long story short, I did not give up and after a year in the field I was awarded a degree and felt at the top of the world. I was blessed because I had support from my fiancée (now wife) and my family. I did pretty well at this school in Millcreek Township and at an Environmental Center in Sandy Lake, PA (best experience anyone in the teaching profession can have).

I was still working around after graduation in 2004 and the moment I went to the catholic school where I was a custodian (right after high school I went to community college and worked at this school) and they hired me on as a substitute teacher. Well, I did not get any days in the 2003-2004 school year but I already had substitute teaching jobs at two catholic schools in Beaver County.

It was the start of my journey, and I had a great time teaching various levels from 2nd-8th Grade and then late in the 2004-2005 school year I get a call from a principal at a Catholic School in Aliquippa, PA and asked if I can be a permanent substitute for a teacher that happened to retire in the middle of the school year (I did not ask why, it was not my business to ask that question). I accepted and took over various classes at the middle school level and built a great rapport with the students and staff. As I told myself, if I don’t have the respect of anyone in a school then what kind of person would I be? It was really a dream come true and a few weeks later I was offered to be the sixth grade homeroom teacher at this school. I was ecstatic and immediately accepted it. If the story ended here, that would be great, right?

Well, here is the first twist of many in my journey to be where I am at as an educator. There is a series of tests out there called “The Praxis Series” and there was one that while I called a number and they gave me a passing score and they said that my Teaching Certificate will arrive that summer of 2005, I never got it because I looked at my hard copy and, long story short, I failed. It killed me to tell this principal that I did not pass, and since I did not obtain the certification I was let go in a mutual agreement. I was sure they would find someone better than me anyway. This was the worst experience, but what hurt the most was that I was about to be married and I was out of the job. I applied to a few places, and after a while I was hired as a Customer Service Representative for a Glass/Coffee Mug Promotional Company in Hopewell Township, PA. That happened in September of 2005. They paid me well (actually as a CSR I felt overpaid since I was not good on the telephone), and I saved enough in that short span to rent an apartment and start my new life as a husband.

Twist #2 occurs here. With a child expecting and I was not happy as a CSR I felt that I was in the crossroads. I would have students at these two Catholic Schools wondering what would happen, and I appeared encouraging but in reality I was clearly knocked out. While I liked the people I worked for in the “office”, I clearly was not happy. I decided to try again with this Praxis Exam and if I passed, then I would get that certificate and continue to focus on my dream of teaching in a classroom (after spending a few years in my life cleaning in them). If I did not, then there was a job at the office with great people.

Twist #3 was when I was asked to do Data Entry at this office. I had a quick review on what to do, and I found my niche in the office. I did not have to answer questions from sometimes irate customers and I got to type on the computer, something I enjoy to this day. I was offered more money and my order entry skills were among the best. But still I was empty because there was uncertainty with outsourcing and with a child I just wanted options.

I took the Praxis Exam that I needed to take in 2006 at Robert Morris University in Moon Township, PA. It was such a relaxing environment with a lot of upcoming teachers throwing an over $150 wager to take this test. If a test taker passes, they are a step away. If not, it is back to square one. I answered each question and had a lot of time to look over the answers. If one rule should be shared it should be this…

…ALWAYS CHECK YOUR WORK!!

Well, a few weeks pass by and I get the scores in the mail. I look at the score and after a few years taking this exam I finally passed! I jumped higher than I ever had and I feared my mom and dad’s dog had a heart attack. I felt that finally I have an escape from working at the office, but the money was still good.

In the winter of 2006 I watched as some of my co-workers at the office were being laid off. I saw the emotions and it was not my boss’s fault that this happened, but it just in the cards that after the busy time of the season ended people were going to be gone. I knew that I had the least experience at data entry, and feared that if I was on the chopping block. So now with my Certificate in tow, I resigned from my position as a data entry employee to be back as a substitute teacher. It was a big risk, but my wife was very supportive of the decision because as she said “you were born to teach”.

So I subbed at many schools in Beaver County, PA and felt that I did a very good job. However, it is a small area and jobs here were few and far between. I applied for a few, but was turned down. I knew that an opportunity will come, but we as a family were patient (maybe too patient). I even took a tutoring position at a Sylvan Learning Center in Monaca, PA. My experience at Sylvan was an amazing time as well, but while it was expensive to enroll a child into their program the tutors were not making a decent wage. It was fine in my opinion, I was walking to work and I enjoyed my time with each student at the center.

From 2007-2011 I was still regarded as a great substitute teacher and tutor. While I was honored, I really wanted to teach in my own room. However, Twist #4. In the summer of 2008, the Sylvan Center in Monaca closed down (though we were one of the most successful in the state it was a “business” decision). Remember when I wrote earlier about that Catholic School position in Aliquippa, PA? Well, it may have been a blessing as sadly that school closed down in 2009. The same year another school I subbed at, in Baden, PA closed down. It was a shame because there were so many good teachers that were gone after many years of service. In the 2008-2009 school year, I subbed at five different schools. The following year it was down to two, located in Hopewell Township (the very first one) and Beaver, PA.

It was very hard to struggle for money those next two school years. I came to a point where I was considering expanding my resume, working an office job, anything just to make some income. And while writing for Wrestleview.com was amazing (I was known as “Mr. V” and the gimmick stayed since February 2009) and I had many readers, I still wanted to teach. I knew there was more and I went to my wife and said “It’s most likely over”. I was no longer holding my breath for a dream and I had a few applications ready as a writer, tutor, retail worker, anything. I felt like I needed to do more for my family, even though my loving wife told me that everything was ok.

Let’s go back to August 2011. I was over a year into a great Wrestleview Podcast I worked on with Dave Stephens and wrote for the website for over two years. I felt that I needed just a brief break to gather my thoughts. Luckily, my wife got a couple days off and we went to Seven Springs, PA (yes, the mountain resort) and it was great. Outside of falling off my horse during my ride, it was a treasure. As we were about to pack I get a call from the FIRST principal that hired me as a substitute back in 2004. She told me there was an opening for the physical education and health position at their school and knew that I was interested. Sure it was only two days a week, but I would treat it like an everyday job. Mind you, I did not know it was the principal because the screen on my cell phone was completely out. When she said “consider yourself hired”, I was elated. My only concern was that I was going to miss a week as we planned a week-long trip to Walt Disney World in Orlando, FL (if you never went there, GO THERE).

Here we are, at the end of 2011. The principal has told my family how blessed she is to have me on their staff. (I vowed to not drink or smoke as a health and physical education teacher, which was not a stretch). I am living out my dream at the moment. My family is doing great and I feel like I am doing something for the good of the youth of the population. What my crowning moment this school year is that I got my name up above the doors leading to the gym, which any reader can see on my Facebook Page.

Scottie requested that I would write a blog on his site talking about how even though we are in a recession, dreams can be realities. I rarely shared this with anyone, but it is a good time to share (finally). Let me tell you, it is a huge weight off my shoulders.

Blessings happen, readers. In 2012, I say forget the “New Year’s Resolutions”. Accomplish something because it can be done, not because of a new year beginning.

Best of Luck to all of you.

You can contact me at the following:

E-mail: mistervwv@hotmail.com
Twitter: @TheMisterV
Facebook: www.facebook.com/DeskofMrV

You can also find my column “From the Desk of Mr. V” on Wrestleview.com
And (for a small fee) listen to “The Teacher’s Lounge” hosted by Dave Stephens and myself.

Introduction:

Just a little while ago, I came across this post from a friend on Facebook. We usually read and hear about Christmas miracles through the news. Considering how hard times are for everyone, we don’t receive enough feel good stories during the year. Upon reading it, I decided to open the door and let her post this wonderful entry.

Christmas Miracle by Melissa Fortney-Cordova

For a long time, my cousin Nola has always been telling me to “keep the faith” and “trust in God.” Those sentiments were echoed by my doting step-mother, Patsy. As always, I appreciated their positive thoughts knowing a part of me would say, “Yeah, yeah.”

This Christmas was set to be incredibly lean for me and the kids. I kept telling myself that we are blessed. We have a warm house, food, and bills being paid. We have always been fortunate to have good health. However, in the inside, I was heartsick at not having a single present for each of my kids to put under the tree.

I had errands in town yesterday and decided to pay bills over the phone to save some time. I called my insurance company to make my monthly $200 premium and was told I received a yearly dividend in the amount of $230. They applied $200 to my premium and put the remaining $30 in my checking account. Needless to say, I was speechless. I bursted into tears and the lovely lady on the end of the line said, “Merry Christmas from USAA.”

I was stunned I suddenly had money. I had money for a holiday meal, donation for the Salvation Army bucket, and to provide a few presents each for my children. Nothing grand. Not so much things they wanted, but things they needed. For the record, my children asked for nothing for Christmas and know times are hard. I know Christmas is not about the presents, but it is about the giving. I donated a toy for Toys For Tots and bought Starbucks for the Salvation Army lady outside of Fry’s. I am so grateful. So humbled. My family received a true Christmas miracle.