I don’t remember significant portions of my life. Not because of any kind of substance abuse or anything, but because I was only physically present. I chose not to look around. My lack of music knowledge has me playing catch up nowadays. I can’t really participate whenever my friends debate whether David Lee Roth or Sammy Hagar was the better lead vocalist for Van Halen. When we talk about movies, oftentimes I get, “YOU HAVEN’T SEEN (insert movie here)?” It puts me behind the times in Animal House and Caddyshack conversations. I just didn’t get out much growing up. I guess I watched too much TV or played too much Nintendo as a kid.
So my cultural knowledge is rudimentary at best.
I also don’t remember much of what happened to me when I was in college at Texas Tech, from 1993-97. Part of it was not looking around much, though I did manage to make friends, which helped. But I also worked my tail off. I guess I was young and idealistic and trying to get somewhere, and not stopping to smell the roses. Part of the work involved the early-morning shift at the NBC-TV affiliate in Lubbock. My first year, I woke up at 3 am to make a 4-8 shift, where I was the associate producer (video editor) of Daybreak 11, which started at 6 am.
My second year, I advanced to producer of Daybreak (probably because nobody else was crazy enough to do it). This meant waking up at 1:45 am to make a 3 am shift. And it seemed someone was always getting home and slamming their car door shut in the parking lot about 30 minutes before my alarm would go off. And I was a full-time employee working a split shift-- after the morning show ended at 7, nothing happened at the TV station until the morning news meeting at 9 and the noon news, which I either produced or cut video for. My workday typically ended around 12:45 pm. So it was rough.
Both years, I’d go to bed about 6:30 pm, so my contact with the outside world was limited to recorded versions ER (before it got too depressing) and Touched By an Angel (it was a phase). I knew the Colorado Avalanche won the Stanley Cup in 1997 only when I saw the highlights on the morning news feed, when Uwe Krupp scored to beat John Vanbiesbrouck of the Florida Panthers. Had to get to bed and had to get to work. And you know what a playoff hockey geek I am.
The TV job was one of three I had at the time—I was also a weekend board operator at the talk radio station. Running commercials for ESPN Radio, Texas Rangers baseball, World Champion (at the time) Houston Rockets basketball, and the coast to coast and border to border Dallas Cowboys radio network.
And I also worked as an engineer for a high school sports network on Friday nights. Sometimes they were home games, other times we’d head to Plainview, Canyon or Amarillo.
So I worked a lot of long hours in those days. Drew and Heather, who stopped by to see us last summer, were an item during this time, and I really had no recollection of what their relationship was like, since I was gone most of the time. I had to have them tell me about those years—1995 through 1998, since I was seldom around. And if I was, I was dazed and confused. Most of the time, I was at work or at school. And half conscious due to a lack of sleep.
Of course, there are things I’d do differently if I had the chance to do them over, but I'd rather not look back, and just prefer to take a look around every now and then, and remember that it’s OK to like things that everyone else likes. Maybe they’re right—maybe it’s fun.
So I’m trying to read a little more, write a little more, and perhaps put myself out there a little more. You know—look around a little bit.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Flag Day
This blog post is about two weeks too late, but it’s too good a story to pass up.
I was an excellent student through eighth grade or so. I think it had a lot to do with getting thrashed regularly in Monopoly by my older brother. I knew how much I owed if I landed on Illinois Avenue with three houses, how many houses and/or properties I had to hock, and what I needed to roll to stay off his hotels. That and being raised by a librarian and the son of an English teacher meant I had much of what I needed for those elementary/intermediate years.
But I found high school a bit harder. As a result, my grades were decent, but I didn’t put enough into it. This meant I had few alternatives upon graduation. So in March 1989, I signed up to join Uncle Sam’s Navy, actually enlisting in August of that year.
Following basic training and “A” school (stories for future entries), I got orders for Pearl Harbor, Hawaii to the USS Benjamin Stoddert, reporting onboard in February 1990. Benjamin Stoddert was the first Secretary of the Navy of the United States. My rate (MOS) was Operations Specialist, tracking air, surface and subsurface contacts, meaning we had very little to do inport, with nothing to track.
One day, June 14, 1990, was Flag Day, an inport day, and an off day, or so I thought. The plans of the day of the week leading up to the 14th made no mention of a Federal holiday. I stayed in my rack anyhow, thinking it was a free day. For some reason, I thought if I played the part thinking, somehow, as an 18-year-old and lowest man on the totem pole, that I could make myself and others believe it.
No dice. My shipmates went up to morning quarters and returned, with me still in my pit. I think I got laughed at, and never got in trouble or anything. The thought was that this was so utterly preposterous that all I ever got was a serious dogging. Besides-- that was far from the worst stunt I pulled on the Benny Sweat. I am now Facebook friends with a lot of those guys I served with, and I’m happy to say they've made sure the legend of Flag Day continues.
I was an excellent student through eighth grade or so. I think it had a lot to do with getting thrashed regularly in Monopoly by my older brother. I knew how much I owed if I landed on Illinois Avenue with three houses, how many houses and/or properties I had to hock, and what I needed to roll to stay off his hotels. That and being raised by a librarian and the son of an English teacher meant I had much of what I needed for those elementary/intermediate years.
But I found high school a bit harder. As a result, my grades were decent, but I didn’t put enough into it. This meant I had few alternatives upon graduation. So in March 1989, I signed up to join Uncle Sam’s Navy, actually enlisting in August of that year.
Following basic training and “A” school (stories for future entries), I got orders for Pearl Harbor, Hawaii to the USS Benjamin Stoddert, reporting onboard in February 1990. Benjamin Stoddert was the first Secretary of the Navy of the United States. My rate (MOS) was Operations Specialist, tracking air, surface and subsurface contacts, meaning we had very little to do inport, with nothing to track.
One day, June 14, 1990, was Flag Day, an inport day, and an off day, or so I thought. The plans of the day of the week leading up to the 14th made no mention of a Federal holiday. I stayed in my rack anyhow, thinking it was a free day. For some reason, I thought if I played the part thinking, somehow, as an 18-year-old and lowest man on the totem pole, that I could make myself and others believe it.
No dice. My shipmates went up to morning quarters and returned, with me still in my pit. I think I got laughed at, and never got in trouble or anything. The thought was that this was so utterly preposterous that all I ever got was a serious dogging. Besides-- that was far from the worst stunt I pulled on the Benny Sweat. I am now Facebook friends with a lot of those guys I served with, and I’m happy to say they've made sure the legend of Flag Day continues.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Randomness
There doesn't seem to be much news of lasting significance around here these days, so we'll shoot from the hip a little bit and maybe tell a story later on.
We're nearly a month into home ownership, and out of cardboard boxes, for the most part. We've unpacked much, thrown out some, and put some into storage. That's right, we finally have more space than we have stuff to put in it. We had our trivia friends over for food and games last night, so that did lend a sense of urgency to the last few days. We still absolutely love this house, and there's more to be done, but we've traveled a good distance.
I've taken to my front yard just a little bit-- watering every other day, as well as checking to make sure the ant hotels are vacant. It'd just be nice to have a little rain here and there, as it's been pretty dry here the last three weeks. Today I went and bought some Roundup and a weed eater to help with the weed action I've been getting.
I've been back to running four days a week, basically in the same neighborhood. The paved trail is 13 minutes away now, not four. Two weeks ago my mileage was 18, 14.5 last week, and a projected 20 this week. I hope to be near 30 miles most weeks. There needs to be a marathon in my future, but there are some things on the horizon toward the end of the year, making those plans a little murky.
Okay, now story time.
I worked at the radio station in Levelland, Texas for two and a half years-- April 1998-December 2000. News, sports and sales. I was half of the full-time staff. I covered school board and junior college regents meetings, did the crime beat, did newscasts morning noon and evening, sold advertising the best I could. Long hours and there were never enough fingers to put in the holes in the dam, especially when the station manager (who hired me) took a job in Temple ten months after I started. That made me the entire full-time staff.
However, all I ever wanted to do was broadcast games. And this gig offered no shortage of opportunities. I'd done some baseball games the previous spring.
But football is where it's at, and my first game was September of 1998 at Dick Bivins Stadium in Amarillo, Texas. A Saturday afternoon tilt-- LHS against Amarillo Caprock. Several teams in town use the stadium, so if two teams (say, Tascosa and AHS) were at home, one would move their game to Thursday or Saturday. Anyhow, my folks were along, and they were drilling me on the Lobo names and jersey numbers on the two-hour drive north on I-27. I'd been to this stadium many times in the past, as engineer for another network that did games, so the turf was familiar. Assistant principal Mel Gierhart was my sidekick for road games. I remember him bringing up the town of Notrees, Texas (near Midland/Odessa, I think), though I forget the context. Likely something to do with game travel. But my mother, who always travels with a full pack, broke out her trusty map of Texas and found it. Yeah-- it's pretty remarkable what sticks in your head 13 years later.
I was still learning my craft, so my game performance is up for debate, but I do remember Levelland winning my first game, 32-13.
Following the game, we got back into the company car-- a Dodge Neon, and headed south for the Texas Tech-UTEP game, scheduled for that night in Lubbock. The first half went OK, but the game overall was not a good one for my guys, as my alma mater beat my favorite team on the planet. Tech 35, UTEP 3.
There were three seasons of Lobo football for me, and this was the first. The win over Caprock got the seaosn off to a good start.
We're nearly a month into home ownership, and out of cardboard boxes, for the most part. We've unpacked much, thrown out some, and put some into storage. That's right, we finally have more space than we have stuff to put in it. We had our trivia friends over for food and games last night, so that did lend a sense of urgency to the last few days. We still absolutely love this house, and there's more to be done, but we've traveled a good distance.
I've taken to my front yard just a little bit-- watering every other day, as well as checking to make sure the ant hotels are vacant. It'd just be nice to have a little rain here and there, as it's been pretty dry here the last three weeks. Today I went and bought some Roundup and a weed eater to help with the weed action I've been getting.
I've been back to running four days a week, basically in the same neighborhood. The paved trail is 13 minutes away now, not four. Two weeks ago my mileage was 18, 14.5 last week, and a projected 20 this week. I hope to be near 30 miles most weeks. There needs to be a marathon in my future, but there are some things on the horizon toward the end of the year, making those plans a little murky.
Okay, now story time.
I worked at the radio station in Levelland, Texas for two and a half years-- April 1998-December 2000. News, sports and sales. I was half of the full-time staff. I covered school board and junior college regents meetings, did the crime beat, did newscasts morning noon and evening, sold advertising the best I could. Long hours and there were never enough fingers to put in the holes in the dam, especially when the station manager (who hired me) took a job in Temple ten months after I started. That made me the entire full-time staff.
However, all I ever wanted to do was broadcast games. And this gig offered no shortage of opportunities. I'd done some baseball games the previous spring.
But football is where it's at, and my first game was September of 1998 at Dick Bivins Stadium in Amarillo, Texas. A Saturday afternoon tilt-- LHS against Amarillo Caprock. Several teams in town use the stadium, so if two teams (say, Tascosa and AHS) were at home, one would move their game to Thursday or Saturday. Anyhow, my folks were along, and they were drilling me on the Lobo names and jersey numbers on the two-hour drive north on I-27. I'd been to this stadium many times in the past, as engineer for another network that did games, so the turf was familiar. Assistant principal Mel Gierhart was my sidekick for road games. I remember him bringing up the town of Notrees, Texas (near Midland/Odessa, I think), though I forget the context. Likely something to do with game travel. But my mother, who always travels with a full pack, broke out her trusty map of Texas and found it. Yeah-- it's pretty remarkable what sticks in your head 13 years later.
I was still learning my craft, so my game performance is up for debate, but I do remember Levelland winning my first game, 32-13.
Following the game, we got back into the company car-- a Dodge Neon, and headed south for the Texas Tech-UTEP game, scheduled for that night in Lubbock. The first half went OK, but the game overall was not a good one for my guys, as my alma mater beat my favorite team on the planet. Tech 35, UTEP 3.
There were three seasons of Lobo football for me, and this was the first. The win over Caprock got the seaosn off to a good start.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Sweet Baby James
The El Paso Diablos minor-league baseball team and I go way back. Dad, Robert and I would go to two or three games a year at that old crackerbox Dudley Field, right next to the city zoo. The park was so small, pitchers’ ERAs came to El Paso to die every year. Robert and I would stalk the ice cream stand for whatever helmet we needed… And we’d watch the baseballs fly out of the park and watch old Texaco scoreboard light up. Great times, to be sure.
Anyhow, Paul Strelzin was the public address announcer for a lot of years. A legendary voice in El Paso for decades, but he also had a way with ruffling feathers. He’d nickname the players every year-- right about the time when Chris Berman at ESPN went places with his nickname shtick. Daryl ‘Jaws’ Sconiers, 'Chilly' Willie Lozado and Bill ‘Shotgun’ Schroeder were just a few of the players we watched pass through town every summer.
In 1982, Dion James was our center fielder, a player who found success with the Brewers, Braves, Yankees and Indians. Strelzin dubbed him Dion ‘Sweet Baby’ James. I’m not quite 11 years old at this time, so I have no idea what this means or where it comes from.
It’s not until a few decades later that my rudimentary music knowledge tells me that Strelzin must have been a James Taylor fan, since it’s the title of what’s become my favorite JT song. He played in the second set of his show in Birmingham Tuesday night, a show which the First Lady and I were delighted to attend. He’s in his mid-60s, still tours and still obviously loves what he does. He basically sang the same songs he’s been singing for the last 40 or so years, but they were sung with a passion and with heart. We truly enjoyed every note of every song.
But the concert was the perfect cap to a perfect day the wife and I spent in the Magic City. I started the day mowing my lawn for the first time with our brand-new rotary mower. Okay, so maybe that wasn’t so awesome, but it’s a new thing for me. We headed into town and grabbed lunch in the Five Points district, at a restaurant called 26 Twenty-Six. The décor was a 1960s meets The Jetsons motif.
But the food was great—I had Carolina barbecue pork with macaroni and cheese on top. The pork was very sweet, and it was complemented perfectly by the mac and cheese. It was the kind of meal you don’t want to eat, because it’ll be over soon. We also split a chocolate chip ice cream cookie, served open face. Homemade ice cream and a delicious cookie. Definitely a meal to remember.
We spent the balance of the afternoon shopping and browsing for items to furnish our new home. We managed to pick up some dishes and other accessories, as well as get a few ideas together for the long-term plan.
Five Points hosted our pregame meal, a Tex-Mex place called Fuego. We took advantage of half-priced margaritas and two-dollar tacos on Tuesdays. Another excellent choice, since we’re both used to the homogeneous Mexican food restaurants that seem to be everywhere.
After we eat and drink, it’s off to the show, and our first trip to the Birmingham-Jefferson Convention Center. We both noticed that most of the crowd seemed to be our age, though there were a few pups in attendance. Great music sung and performed by people who care about the music.
Anyhow, Paul Strelzin was the public address announcer for a lot of years. A legendary voice in El Paso for decades, but he also had a way with ruffling feathers. He’d nickname the players every year-- right about the time when Chris Berman at ESPN went places with his nickname shtick. Daryl ‘Jaws’ Sconiers, 'Chilly' Willie Lozado and Bill ‘Shotgun’ Schroeder were just a few of the players we watched pass through town every summer.
In 1982, Dion James was our center fielder, a player who found success with the Brewers, Braves, Yankees and Indians. Strelzin dubbed him Dion ‘Sweet Baby’ James. I’m not quite 11 years old at this time, so I have no idea what this means or where it comes from.
It’s not until a few decades later that my rudimentary music knowledge tells me that Strelzin must have been a James Taylor fan, since it’s the title of what’s become my favorite JT song. He played in the second set of his show in Birmingham Tuesday night, a show which the First Lady and I were delighted to attend. He’s in his mid-60s, still tours and still obviously loves what he does. He basically sang the same songs he’s been singing for the last 40 or so years, but they were sung with a passion and with heart. We truly enjoyed every note of every song.
But the concert was the perfect cap to a perfect day the wife and I spent in the Magic City. I started the day mowing my lawn for the first time with our brand-new rotary mower. Okay, so maybe that wasn’t so awesome, but it’s a new thing for me. We headed into town and grabbed lunch in the Five Points district, at a restaurant called 26 Twenty-Six. The décor was a 1960s meets The Jetsons motif.
But the food was great—I had Carolina barbecue pork with macaroni and cheese on top. The pork was very sweet, and it was complemented perfectly by the mac and cheese. It was the kind of meal you don’t want to eat, because it’ll be over soon. We also split a chocolate chip ice cream cookie, served open face. Homemade ice cream and a delicious cookie. Definitely a meal to remember.
We spent the balance of the afternoon shopping and browsing for items to furnish our new home. We managed to pick up some dishes and other accessories, as well as get a few ideas together for the long-term plan.
Five Points hosted our pregame meal, a Tex-Mex place called Fuego. We took advantage of half-priced margaritas and two-dollar tacos on Tuesdays. Another excellent choice, since we’re both used to the homogeneous Mexican food restaurants that seem to be everywhere.
After we eat and drink, it’s off to the show, and our first trip to the Birmingham-Jefferson Convention Center. We both noticed that most of the crowd seemed to be our age, though there were a few pups in attendance. Great music sung and performed by people who care about the music.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Cardboard City
We are at the close of another week-- moving week for the wife and me. We moved out of our second-floor apartment and into a really nice three-bedroom home about a mile and a half away.
So Sunday, Monday and Tuesday were big packing and moving days, and I spent those days off from work. You never realize just how much crap you have until you start to put it into boxes. So a little bit during the week prior, and some on Sunday, then Monday and Tuesday were hard-core. Starting at 7:45 Monday and at 7 Tuesday, we loaded our lives into cardboard boxes and plastic storage bins. The springtime weather in Alabama actually cooperated and provided temps in the 70s, unlike some of those Texas summertime moves, when the mercury really got up there. The only time we really stopped was to play semi-final trivia with our friends Monday night (we advanced to the finals, btw).
The movers arrived Tuesday morning and started hauling and loading as we packed out the kitchen and living room. By 3 pm, most of what we own had been transported. Strange thing is, we had everything done by 5 pm. Cable guy stopped by on time, as did the delivery types with our brand-spanking new king-size bed. Clockwork. The most important things got covered that evening-- putting the entertainment center together, as well as rigging cable TV and our wireless Internet.
So the last several days have been spent unpacking boxes and sorting their contents, deciding where things should go, and figuring out what all we need. Stuff like trash cans, watering hoses, a mailbox and stuff for the ant beds in the front yard. There will be more to be sure, but we love our new home. We'll get more stuff unpacked as the weeks go by. It's a great problem to have.
So Sunday, Monday and Tuesday were big packing and moving days, and I spent those days off from work. You never realize just how much crap you have until you start to put it into boxes. So a little bit during the week prior, and some on Sunday, then Monday and Tuesday were hard-core. Starting at 7:45 Monday and at 7 Tuesday, we loaded our lives into cardboard boxes and plastic storage bins. The springtime weather in Alabama actually cooperated and provided temps in the 70s, unlike some of those Texas summertime moves, when the mercury really got up there. The only time we really stopped was to play semi-final trivia with our friends Monday night (we advanced to the finals, btw).
The movers arrived Tuesday morning and started hauling and loading as we packed out the kitchen and living room. By 3 pm, most of what we own had been transported. Strange thing is, we had everything done by 5 pm. Cable guy stopped by on time, as did the delivery types with our brand-spanking new king-size bed. Clockwork. The most important things got covered that evening-- putting the entertainment center together, as well as rigging cable TV and our wireless Internet.
So the last several days have been spent unpacking boxes and sorting their contents, deciding where things should go, and figuring out what all we need. Stuff like trash cans, watering hoses, a mailbox and stuff for the ant beds in the front yard. There will be more to be sure, but we love our new home. We'll get more stuff unpacked as the weeks go by. It's a great problem to have.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Character Flaws
I don't do confrontation well and I don't stand up for myself.
I'll avoid making a scene or getting into arguments at all costs. Unfortunately, it doesn't always work out. And when it doesn't, I sit and simmer and ponder and think about the whole thing. The things I wish I'd said. The possible scenarios-- how things could have played out. What would've happened if I'd done/said X. How I feel I'd have to watch my back if I did stand up.
Our society seems to thrive on conflict. Not constructive conflict that makes our world a better place, but silly, meaningless Jerry Springer-type stuff. I don't even do conflict on TV well. Conflict scenes in shows or movies? Can't do 'em. I guess I put myself in the position of the oppressed. Perhaps it has something to do with being in that position many times in the past.
Spending time dwelling on negative things is not healthy. I tense up and my temples tighten and I'm sure my blood pressure spikes. Not to mention the positive things or productive things or 'advance the ball' things I need to be focusing on. The negatives are all I can think about.
It's part of the ride-- you spend time around people and there will be differences. I understand that. It's the dealing I have trouble with. Even with things that happened 25 years ago. Even with something as small and trivial as what's in my head tonight.
So in the absence of coherent and organized thoughts, maybe getting this out in the open will be a catharsis somehow and help me figure things out.
I'll avoid making a scene or getting into arguments at all costs. Unfortunately, it doesn't always work out. And when it doesn't, I sit and simmer and ponder and think about the whole thing. The things I wish I'd said. The possible scenarios-- how things could have played out. What would've happened if I'd done/said X. How I feel I'd have to watch my back if I did stand up.
Our society seems to thrive on conflict. Not constructive conflict that makes our world a better place, but silly, meaningless Jerry Springer-type stuff. I don't even do conflict on TV well. Conflict scenes in shows or movies? Can't do 'em. I guess I put myself in the position of the oppressed. Perhaps it has something to do with being in that position many times in the past.
Spending time dwelling on negative things is not healthy. I tense up and my temples tighten and I'm sure my blood pressure spikes. Not to mention the positive things or productive things or 'advance the ball' things I need to be focusing on. The negatives are all I can think about.
It's part of the ride-- you spend time around people and there will be differences. I understand that. It's the dealing I have trouble with. Even with things that happened 25 years ago. Even with something as small and trivial as what's in my head tonight.
So in the absence of coherent and organized thoughts, maybe getting this out in the open will be a catharsis somehow and help me figure things out.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Back to Work
Following last Wednesday's tornado, I had four consecutive days off. There was no work, since there was no way to get to the running store. The First Lady and I have spent some time volunteering at our church, though we both admit we can do more. There will be chances for us to pitch in.
But Monday, I went back to the store I started at-- basketball and children's shoes. Relearning where things are, since the stockroom had been reorganized. Though the two store are owned by the same people, working at each is vastly different. Pulled three shifts there-- Tuesday and Wednesday as well.
This morning, I opened the running store-- my first time back since about 3:45 the previous Wednesday afternoon. My first time going south of the campus since that storm cut a swath through my state and my city. Intersections were unrecognizable, vans on the wrong side of the street from the not-there-anymore restaurant, fractions and splinters of trees still standing, gas stations blown away... It was all amazing, in a way. That one single event could do this much damage.
But I also saw things to be encouraged by-- construction types and clean up crews on the job at 8:45 (though I'm sure they'd been there a while already), a major laundry detergent company setting up its free washing machines, battery companies setting things up, and more. People moving forward.
Elsewhere in the news...
I'm starting to get back into the running groove, after a minor injury. It's difficult to start back up after a break. Something about an object at rest tending to remain at rest. Working our way back slowly.
And the tornado also brought my spring semester at UA to a screeching halt. I had an accounting assignment due the next day, and a test scheduled this past Monday. Both were canceled, with students choosing to take the final or take their grade as of April 27. So after much gnashing of teeth, I took my B in Intro to Accounting and ran. And I'm also not giving up on this as a potential career path.
But Monday, I went back to the store I started at-- basketball and children's shoes. Relearning where things are, since the stockroom had been reorganized. Though the two store are owned by the same people, working at each is vastly different. Pulled three shifts there-- Tuesday and Wednesday as well.
This morning, I opened the running store-- my first time back since about 3:45 the previous Wednesday afternoon. My first time going south of the campus since that storm cut a swath through my state and my city. Intersections were unrecognizable, vans on the wrong side of the street from the not-there-anymore restaurant, fractions and splinters of trees still standing, gas stations blown away... It was all amazing, in a way. That one single event could do this much damage.
But I also saw things to be encouraged by-- construction types and clean up crews on the job at 8:45 (though I'm sure they'd been there a while already), a major laundry detergent company setting up its free washing machines, battery companies setting things up, and more. People moving forward.
Elsewhere in the news...
I'm starting to get back into the running groove, after a minor injury. It's difficult to start back up after a break. Something about an object at rest tending to remain at rest. Working our way back slowly.
And the tornado also brought my spring semester at UA to a screeching halt. I had an accounting assignment due the next day, and a test scheduled this past Monday. Both were canceled, with students choosing to take the final or take their grade as of April 27. So after much gnashing of teeth, I took my B in Intro to Accounting and ran. And I'm also not giving up on this as a potential career path.
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