Berkeley County student is kicked out of school for bringing a butter knife to campus.

When I was in Grade 4, I brought a butter knife to school (without my mom knowing), ostensibly to cut up an apple. I then thought it would be hilarious to chase a couple of girls around with said knife.

Now, I wouldn't have actually done anything with it. I was just a stupid little shithead who was having some fun running around and scaring people.

I got in trouble - had to sit in an in-school suspension and write a letter of apology to each of the two girls. So I did. End of story. Never chased anyone with a knife again.

In today's hosed-up, zero-tolerance world, I would have been expelled and abandoned by the world at the age of six with no options or possibilities for my future. I would have been, in essence, aborted by society.

This is terrible and wrong. Elementary school kids, especially in the younger grades, don't actually comprehend the consequences of their actions. They don't believe you or fully understand you when you say something like "if you do this, you'll be expelled". They innately believe there's always a way out, always a way of being cute and saying sorry and having things go back to normal.

If we start treating little kids like they're adults with the responsibilities required of employees, rather than children, we're going to damage this next generation even more than the current one is

The House Folds

The skyline of Atlantic City seemed a bit lonely last night after the historic Sands Casino was ripped from its foundation and landed in a dusty cloud of debris on its former footprint.

I was there the last night it closed with my friend Devin (Whom gets credit for this blog headline) and being amongst the last gamblers there we said our goodbyes. Personally, I never cared for the casino but it was a great place to park and its proximity to my favorite haunt was worthy of jackpot status.

Ironically, the destruction of the Sands also meant the closing of that once favorite bar.
( PHOTO BY EDWARD LEA / THE PRESS OF ATLANTIC CITY )

One Word

One word to sum it up.
One word to bind it
One word to show its worth
And in the shadows, find it.

No words to convey
Such an immense feeling.
Burning in my chest
I can feel my heart healing

Butt Rash

I never imagined receiving a call about butt wiping but that's exactly how my night ended.

I was cruising along in my new truck enjoying the thumping of the horses beneath the hood and trying to avoid plowing down any seniors while I navigated the huge rusting beast. I began to feel slightly nostalgic and knew the only cure was a visit to my niece and nephews. There was time to kill and anything i could do to anchor my role as the favorite uncle was certainly tempting.

I pulled into the driveway and was welcomed in a way that made me quickly realized a favor was about to be unleashed. Sure enough, I was recruited as a babysitter for an hour. I sat and played with the baby and listened to her coo at my goofy noises, bounced my nephews on my knee and chased them around the house with a fake sword.

I guess I bounced Jimmy too much.

"Uncle Georgie, I gotta poop"

He scampered off to the bathroom and a few minutes later I hear a demand echo from the bathroom walls.

"COME WIPE MY BUTT, I'M DONE"

Like a good soldier, I followed the orders of my captain and finished his demands. I grabbed some tissues from the wet wipe container and got him ready. No thank you from him of course, he ran out of the bathroom before I could flush since the sound terrifies him.

Tonight I got a call from my sister in law saying Jimmy had been scratching his butt all day and had a rash. Puzzled at why this was suddenly my problem, I soon got my answer.

"You didn't use the Clorox Disinfecting Wipes did you?"

Oops.

In my defense, it did say LOW STREAK FORMULA!

Dreams

When dreaming of a personal accomplishment, most people make the mistake of waiting...

- Waiting until they've been trained
- Waiting till someone say's they are ready
- Waiting till they have the proper tools
- Waiting till they're better
- Waiting till they're hired
- Waiting till they've been given the assignment

But some people don't wait for the stage to be set or the curtains to be opened. Some people don't even wait to be chosen by the casting director.

Some people don't wait to be asked - they dive in the minute they get the dream.

* Dream of being on TV? - get a video camera and start making your segments.
* Dream of being a syndicated cartoonist? - start creating a daily strip and post it to the web.
* Imagine that some day you'll possess the skills to be a fantastic film maker? - bum a camera from one of your friends and shoot a short now.
* Want to be a personal finance consultant but got no money or clients? - make up imaginary clients and work with their pretend money for a year.

Somewhere along the line most of us bought the myth that great accomplishments require training, resources, credentials and permission. Bullshit. Great accomplishments require giving it a shot.

Success

I dreamed of being a singer, I fantasized of fleeing bad guys, overpowering them with my mighty stature and bringing them to justice. I even contemplated being a doctor once, healing the weak and wary with my only my brains to guide me. But the reality is I am none of those things. Those fleeting thoughts that once drifted through my imagination have long been buried, forgotten and washed over by moments of impulse and self gratification. I didn't educate myself with the discipline those objectives would require, but I did amass a wealth of unconventional wisdom and insight despite my self prophecies disintegrating before me.

How does one measure their own success? Is it the size of their car or the number of zeros depicting their wealth? Our culture has a funny way of measuring up to everyone else. Have you ever seen a man with a huge mansion and a fleet of luxury cars? I bet you thought to yourself how successful and lucky he must be. Jealousy sets in and we kick ourselves for not buying more lottery tickets.

I ponder at what cost did this man endure to set himself up as the icon of wealth. Did he toil for years at work, missing the most precious moments of his life? I can imagine this man always trying to one up himself, sacrificing his own hopes and dreams so others can live vicariously through his prized possessions. In the end, it is moot. He will never be remembered for his long office hours and aging complexion, his suffering ending with the same tombstone as everyone else.

I once read a story about a man who sailed for 14 years of his life, circling the globe bobbling through the waves on a tiny boat, his only defense from the angry seas. This man caught his own meals, used his own brains and brawns and wrote a wonderful diary on his adventures. I read about the moments he nearly faced death, writing goodbye letters to his loved ones and offering his insights one last time. He inspired me. That's greatness.

Maybe we should all ask ourselves often, 'What are we aiming for, success or greatness?' It looks to me like a lifetime of success adds up to early inactivity, selfishness, and too much stuff. While a lifetime of greatness results in legends.

The City By the Sea

Peel back the layers of corruption, scandals and eye sores and Atlantic City starts to unravel itself as something other than the "Ghetto by the Sea." Over the next several years, more than 12 BILLION dollars will be pumped into the local economy, providing thousands of new jobs and sending a strong economic ripple into local industries. The state and the city are obvious benefactors to this surge of revitalization, providing the state with more dollars to frivolously squander and the city deeper pockets to protect their politicians from further lawsuits. Despite the absolute truth, what remains to come is sure to be an aesthetic wonder.

His Ring

A different time, a different place. The sound of wrapping paper crunch beneath bare feet, laughter echoes across the room and fills the air with a resonating vibration. The stocking dangles above me, swelling with tokens of affection. The temptation is too overpowering, I can no longer resist, I must know what awaits me. Candy, lighters... gum... and what's this? A ring? It is brilliant, shiny and polished and represents his love and commitment. It was the most beautiful thing I owned, apart from the gift bearer. Heart beating faster, panic swirls with turmoil. I try to make sense of it all, I fail. Love makes no sense.

The circular scrap of metal now clings to my finger, it is tarnished and stained with memories of a romance churning with lies, deception and remorse. I see no beauty in it, only a symbolic reminder of misguided perception. Like a vice, it is attached to my body and squeezes my heart with its unforgiving pressure. The pain is an addiction, moving forward and cutting the strings seems beyond comprehension. It's hard to let go, it's difficult to be brave in the face of uncertainty. My heart knows the truth and guides my finger to clutch the ring, with a swift tug it is over. The sword is free from the stone. This is the last tear I shed for you. I am free