On this week’s podcast, we discuss new albums by the Decemberists and Tennis, and discuss lyric interpretation.

Listen here:

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Here’s “Marathon” by Tennis:

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Mickey Buhl, courtesy Madison.com

Over at the mothership, Sunny Schubert has a wonderful column about a teacher she knows that has attempted to infuse his school with a little class. Zach, the fresh faced 22 year old newbie, decided he needed to set himself apart from his 7th grade students, so he started wearing a tie to school. For this transgression, he was mocked by the veteran teachers, none of whom saw any reason to dress up for school. In a show of solidarity with their teacher, Zach’s students actually started wearing ties to school – while the other teachers took time out of their day to trash his classroom with gaudy neckties.

This story is good enough – but Schubert also mentions a wildly entertaining “scandal” brewing at Glendale Elementary School in Madison, which serves a large number of African-American children. (In fact, Glendale has the highest percentage of poor and minority students at any Madison elementary school.)

In 2005, Mickey Buhl took over as Glendale’s principal, with the purpose of instilling the school with a new attitude and more innovative techniques. Since he took over, the school’s test scores have risen dramatically.

Yet Buhl’s techniques haven’t sat well with a handful of the school’s teachers, who have filed a number of complaints against the principal. Schubert points out these complaints are summarized in this 27-page attorney report posted at the Madison.com website.

It is an astounding document. It details the travails of a principal merely trying to provide the best education for his kids, yet having to spend most of his time refereeing the most banal, petulant disputes between teachers and himself. Even when Buhl attempted to mediate disputes between teachers or between a teacher and himself, the teachers generally lawyered up and demanded a teacher’s union representative be present.

Among Buhl’s transgressions that earned him complaints:

• Upon taking office, he urged teachers to stop “gossiping” amongst themselves. Teachers found that the term “gossip” made them “uncomfortable.”

• He often tried to talk to uncooperative teachers who either insulted him or simply walked away. Many thought his insistence that he be treated respectfully were “intimidating” and it made them uncomfortable.

• An attempt to tell a food service worker to stop raising her voice to the kids eventually led to that worker contacting her representative at the food workers union to file a grievance. The worker also refused to do any tasks that went beyond her duties as a food service worker, even for a few minutes.

• Sometimes, Buhl would attempt to compliment his teachers by comparing them to his former school. He would tell them they do this-or-that much better than he had seen in the past. According to their complaint, some Glendale staff members were “uncomfortable with Mr. Buhl’s use of comparisons as compliments.” They believed he shouldn’t be “putting down” people in order to “build them up.” (A hearty eye roll and head shake is warranted here.)

• One teacher who had previously resigned offered to return as a volunteer. Buhl thought it was a good idea. Of course, the union objected and filed a complaint, as they generally oppose volunteers doing the jobs of paid teachers. That teacher then gave up and never volunteered.

• At field day in 2008 and 2009, Buhl would play with the kids, picking up a hose and squirting them with water. Some of the teachers were squirted, as well. Uncomfortable. Complaint.

• Buhl and many of the teachers disagreed over the school’s bullying policy. Buhl thought bullying was repeated instances of unwanted touching, while the teachers thought one touch was enough. To demonstrate, Buhl pushed one of the teachers as a demonstration to ask if that was “bullying.” Uncomfortable. Complaint. (Although it doesn’t say the teacher herself complained – it merely says the fact he touched her made “some staff members” uncomfortable.)

In other instances, Buhl is accused of “raising his voice” or using “threatening body language.” Yet after reading through all the snarky insolence he had to endure, it’s a wonder he kept his cool as well as he did. (In many instances, problems arose with the school’s interpreters for deaf students – had I been principal, I may have sent them an unmistakable signal in sign language.)

Someday, someone is going to write a great movie contrasting how elementary students learn the basics of how to interact and relate with one another – while each disagreement their teachers have with one another ends up in a soap opera-style drama or a union grievance. Clearly, the 4th graders are more mature than many of their teachers.

And as for Buhl, this is the thanks he gets for trying to give kids the best education they can get. He was exonerated on all of the complaints mentioned in the report, yet he clearly spent hours and hours trying to mediate the BS the teachers slung at him. It’s mind-boggling to think what goes on at elementary schools that don’t have principals as dedicated to the children.

Read the whole thing here. Seriously, read it.

On this week’s podcast, we discuss new albums by Canadian pop-rockers the White Wires, sad country performer Josh T. Pearson, and possibly insane electro-dance artist TOBACCO.

Listen here:

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And here’s a bonus song to get everyone ready for Packers/Bears this Sunday:

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In my WPRI column today, I engage in a little Rex Ryan-style interstate smack talk.  (I will also be filming a foot fetish video this afternoon.)

These days, it’s great to be a cheesehead.  Here’s what I learned about Wisconsin:

Recently, United Nations inspectors discovered the presence of “fried cheese curds” in Wisconsin, which the state had previously fought to keep top secret. Unleashing this delicacy on the nation would trigger an arterial armaggedon, likely trimming the U.S. population by 37% within one year. (Merely saying the words “fried cheese curds” out loud has been known to cause heart murmurs.)

Wisconsin’s most recent heyday occurred in the late 1970s and early 1980s, when its sports teams ruled the national landscape and its breweries cranked out enough beer to inebriate the nation. (If you’re an ugly American male who ended up smooching on a girl out of your league between 1930 and 1985… Milwaukee says, “you’re welcome.”)

Read the whole thing here.

I don’t know who former AP reporter Arthur L. Srb is, but I like his style.  Every time I spend some time diving through microfilm at the State Historical Society, I end up with some real gems.  This one is from April of 1974 and appeared in the Appleton Post-Crescent:

(Click on the picture to read the story.)

And as a bonus, here’s some indispensable advice from everyone’s favorite medical columnist, Dr. G.C. Thosteson:

(Again, click to read.)

Let’s be honest, here – GOP gubernatorial inaugurations don’t happen very often in Wisconsin.  So I admit, despite being a political veteran of over a decade, I was a little excited to attend Scott Walker’s inaugural ball last night here in Madison.

The first step was deciding what to wear.  Never having attended a ball (not even of the headbanger’s variety), I didn’t know what constituted appropriate attire.  I had heard some people were renting tuxes, but I didn’t think I needed to go that far.  The way I figure it, the top 5% at these events are either rich, powerful, or beautiful.  The bottom 95%, where I reside, is simply known as “everyone else.”  So attempts to go overboard to get yourself noticed are probably a waste.

Instead, I just settled on wearing a black suit with a black tie, which is just a cheaper way of looking “tux-ey.”  (Although not quite as cheap as my next option, which was wearing a t-shirt with a tux printed on it.  Or dressing like Mr. Peanut.)

Before I got dressed, though, I had to shower and shave and such.  One of the sad realities of becoming an old man in slow motion is the extended hair removal process.  I have large gasoline-powered weed wackers to take care of the extraneous hair that has been showing up in various places on my head.  Gross, I know, but necessary.  But last night, I decided to take a little shortcut and instead shave a nasty hair off my ear with my regular shaving razor.  Who would know, right?

I got dressed up, and my wife and I set off for the Monona Terrace.  We’re not cool enough to be part of the “late arriving” crowd, so I decided to be part of the “getting a parking spot” crowd.  A friend told me he was “working the door” at one of the hospitality suites, and that I could get in.  So the entire drive downtown, I was bragging to my wife that I was some kind of VIP.  When we got to the room, it appeared that anyone could walk in and get a free beer.  I actually think I saw a couple hobos stuffing merlot bottles into their bandana knapsacks before carrying them out on sticks.  Thus destroyed my attempt to convince my wife that I’m a bigshot.

But before we initially entered the room, my wife grabbed me by the shoulder and told me I couldn’t go in.  She asked me what was wrong with me.  I told her I had no idea what she was talking about.  “You’re bleeding out of your ear,” she said.  And it was true – I touched my ear with my fingers, and there was blood on them.  Apparently in the ear shaving process, I had gashed myself, and blood was now running my lobe.

We took off to find the bathrooms, which in the Monona Terrace, are about 15 miles away from the gathering areas.  I was able to cram my ear with tissues until the bleeding subsided, then took some extras in case blotting was necessary.

The rest of the night went swimmingly – I saw a lot of old friends and met some new ones. I feel like I must have talked to 200 people. And I got no mentions of my head wound.  Maybe if Scott Walker is re-elected in 2014, I’ll one-up myself and hack off an arm.