Rocco Maiolo's Ramblings and Musings

This is my last Fall semester of teaching.  Barring a miracle change of heart or an unforeseen event, I will retire on June 30, 2016 after 30 years of service. So after making this monumental decision, this has become a year of lasts: the last Remembrance Day Assembly; the last time I’m in a room full of grade 10’s; the last time I teach The Merchant of Venice ; the last time I mark a set of Media Studies exams; the last time I have a semester turnaround day (because the next time I have a turnaround day -- in June -- I won’t be turning around.  I’ll be retiring). I had a thought this morning: I’ve taught grade 12 University English every year except in my first year and in this, my last year.  I’ve come full circle.  In my first year, I was rookie guy.  I was given the dog’s breakfast, as it’s called in the business: 2 Maths, 1 Science, 2 English and 1 Accounting. Café/Bookstore in Gorey, Ireland (not a book room:) ) The Science was lots of fun. Try/de...

Today I was driving into work by myself and I had one of those thought over-dose moments. I have a friend who actually wakes up in the middle of the night with thought-overdrive. He can't get back to sleep, so he goes to a coffee shop or his office and journals. I like my sleep, so I'm not quite that radical. My speed is when a thought percolates long enough and it starts to take shape, it becomes a blog post. A charmed life. I know it's misquoted; it's from Macbeth of whose main character, Macbeth, it is said -- pejoratively -- that he has a charmed life. Ie. he thinks he's invincible because of certain equivocal prophecies given to him by three nasty witches. That's not the kind of charmed life I'm thinking of. Several times this week -- and on the drive into work -- the thought occurred to me that I'm a very happy (aka blessed) man. My wife and I are now empty nest; the house is quiet and it stays relatively mess-free. Although I miss our ki...

When I took the leap in 1977 and "asked Jesus into my heart" strange things happened. Some of them good and right, some of them weird and ugly. I remember that day, the day after and the two ensuing years vividly. That day was euphoric. Not everyone feels something when they make a commitment to change their lives. I did. It felt good -- like gears that I didn't know were there had clicked into place and my soul was in motion. The day after is when my faith journey started. On that day, I walked home from school with Dale. After, fifteen minutes, I was frustrated that I couldn't get him to see the light, so I told him that he was going to hell if he didn't accept the truth. He was not impressed. The following two years were filled with beauty and doubt; maturity and immaturity; and falling and growing. I met people who later fell hard from the faith and others who went on to be pastors and missionaries. I went to Catholic church, Lutheran church, house church and...