Teachers' Unions...The New Mafia

For the life of me, I cannot understand why the evil, tyrannical, power-obsessed Teachers’ Unions are so anti-education. They care nothing about enlightening our children and have not for decades.

I say this as a State of California credentialed teacher. As a child of the 60’s, I went into Education because I wanted to Save the World. It sounds rather foolish now, especially with the current state of public education. I have watched its slow deterioration year after year. The same can be said for the universities.  

Back when I began my career, I assumed everyone in my field had the same goal; educate the young people and we will all live in a better world. After a lifetime of watching the grift, hypocrisy, and outright thug tactics of the unions, I am not sure if that was ever true.

Anyone with even a few brain cells realizes the horrific damage being done to our students who, in California public schools, have been out of the classroom for nearly a year. Common sense would tell you what the statistics prove: increased depression and suicides, loss of socialization skills, one year of learning down the drain. These are ony a few of the consequences that may very well have a life-time negative effect on our children. And for what? 

When did educators become Mafia enforcers? That is the only logical way in which they can be viewed. Their resolute stance to keep schools closed is in exact opposition to what I had once believed was the motto of the profession: educate the masses. 

A quick look at the curriculum now offered in this State would make one cringe. Nevertheless, I would gladly overlook that disaster if only the kids were allowed back in the classrooms. In many districts, the quality of learning will be as woeful as it has been for ages, but it far outweighs the damage done by locking kids in thier homes. 

My only hope is that parents will finally wake up to the gangster-like tactics of the unions that care nothing about the well-being of their charges. Parents and guardians have a collective power that can take down the unions. 

Barstool Sports & The Tadich Grill

I don’t read Barstool Sports and, if I’m honest, I don’t really get it. Dave Portnoy, on the other hand, is the man. Possibly, the first time I heard of him was during the dust up with Roger Goodell. That was all I needed to become an instant fan. He has my lifetime vote for El Presedente.

Portnoy started his Barstool Fund in mid-December to help save small businesses that are being wiped out by stupid governors and their lockdown insanity. A short trip through my area in the San Francisco East Bay is all one needs for proof of the Overlords’ Dastardly Deeds. Shop, after restaurant, after shop, closed for good.

A few weeks ago, I happened upon Portnoy’s Twitter feed and began to watch all the wonderful videos of dying businesses Getting the Call from Dave. This meant that they would not lose their livelihoods. Heartwarming, tear-rendering, tiny glimpses into the true goodness that exists in this world.

One doesn’t need to be wealthy to donate $20 to such a fabulous cause, and I was just about to do so when I scrolled down to the Love Your Melon/Barstool Fund offer. I have wanted a Love Your Melon cap for years, (another very worthy organization), and now I could contribute to both campaigns.

Periodically, when I need a dose of positivity and smiles, I look at the Getting the Call videos. I almost fell off my barstool when I saw Tadich Grill in the feed. This is a restaurant to which I have a personal connection.

My parents loved Tadich Grill. The name itself brought a bit of reverence to my father’s voice when spoken. It is very possible that my dad’s first meal there was during WWII when, as a young Naval officer, he had shore leave in San Francisco.

After the war, my parents moved to the East Bay. My dad’s love and connection to San Francisco remained throughout his life. He knew the city up and down, left to right, as well as any non-native could. When out-of-town friends would visit, he’d give them the SF tour, often ending at the Tadich Grill.

On special occasions, he and my mother would go there for a meal.  And then, on possibly my thirteenth birthday in the mid-60’s, my parents took me there for dinner.

It is not something I have ever forgotten, but it had been buried in the back corners of the brain for quite a while. As soon as I saw Dave’s call with Jen, those memories flooded my frontal cortex. I can tell you the exact dress I was wearing, the table we sat at, the place settings, and the smiles of my parents. I don’t remember what I ate, but know it was good.

Thank you El Presedente for all that you do. Thank you Tadich Grill for the wonderful memories. Perhaps I will one day get over to SF and have another fantastic meal. Meanwhile, I’ll walk around with my Love Your Melon/Barstool Fund cap knowing that I might now be the coolest kid in town.

 The Barstool Fund      Tadich Grill    Love Your Melon