Saturday, February 24, 2007

THE CITY OF THE LONER - Chapter 7


THE CITY’S
SPORTS COMPLEX

At the beginning of one week, hundreds of workers started their day digging an enormous hole near the town square my father had built. From a great distance, shovels, hoes, and pickaxes softly scraped alongside the roar of tractors and other heavy construction equipment. Trucks arrived continuously, carrying loads of cement, bricks, stone and steel, and left loaded with earth and debris. The site was hectic, and in the middle of the activity reigned Champion, planning strategies, conducting workers, leading his army of workers and machinery.

He was in full command of the battle taking place under that huge cloud of dust.

He was happy to be there.

All of his men were happy to be there.

And because they were content at their jobs, the job would get done faster.

News spread quickly and the City celebrated. They were building a sports stadium.

It was Champion’s gift to the City, an old dream about to become reality. With this enterprise, the aging sportsman hoped to realize another dream — to nurture young athletes who would take his place in the arena. The stadium would be the school and stage for young athletes in all sports, for individuals and for teams. Besides running tracks and fields, there would be volleyball, basketball, tennis, and indoor soccer courts, not to mention the full-scale field for real soccer matches. For swimming, Olympic-sized pools would permit simultaneous competitions in swimming, diving, and other events. More than just a simple stadium, the sports complex would have the characteristics of an Olympic village.

When the idea was still in the planning stages, Champion decided to call the project The City Sports Complex. Soon the community’s conversations were buzzing about the CSC.

From the beginning until the end of the construction, men worked at a frantic pace 24/7.
Champion was in a hurry to finish so that he could inaugurate the complex on his birthday. No one knew Champion’s age, but everyone knew his motives. He explained that it would be a double present for him. First of all, for him to be able to donate the complex to the City and second of all, for him to be able to bask in the enthusiastic energy of the population.

“It will be the greatest achievement of my life,” he confided to the workers.

“And ours too,” admitted the construction team.

As members of the community, they would reap the benefits that the stadium would offer. That’s why their nonstop effort was worth every minute of hard labor. Fully motivated from start to finish, the men managed to finish the job ahead of time.

It was truly a work of art. The covered bleachers had a tribune of honor with reserved seats for the City’s leaders: Judge, Priest, Chief of Police, and Mayor would not need to stand in lines. Other illustrious citizens were also given the chance to reserve their places. Everyone was amazed that the swimming pools’ crystalline water was the same aqua as the City’s man-made lake. To the smallest detail, the courts were impeccable. The track and field impressed all with their gracious lines and sense of motion. The complex was a colossal success.

Some even suggested that the name be changed from the CSC to the Colossal Sports Complex, but Champion protested, “Never!”

Though most of the population favored “Colossal,” Champion’s opinion was respected without debate as a way of thanking him for his generous gift. Someone offered another suggestion: Champion’s Colossal Sports Center.

“That’s even worse!” he declared, ending any further discussion. In fact, Champion was a simple, humble man who could not fathom attaching his name to the magnificent project.

Mayor, in response to a request from my father, called for a committee to be in charge of the CSC inauguration. It was a large group of adults and children with representatives from varied social levels. All ideas, suggestions and reminders were welcome. The festivities would include firing a canon in salutation, fireworks, chiming church bells, student parades, athlete parades, and of course the City’s own marching band Sazefeem leading up to the highlight of the celebration: a soccer match between CC and an adversary yet to be chosen. The winner of the match would take home the Loner’s Trophy — a two foot crystal the color of the Lake of the City.

The committee agreed unanimously with a suggestion to surprise Champion. Their plan was considered a top secret because they knew that if word leaked out, the old athlete would refuse to participate. For obvious reasons, the surprise would take place after the game because it would only work if CC won the trophy. The entire committee agreed that after the ref whistled the end of the game, Champion would be so happy that he would not be able to escape their recognition. They imagined that it would be the most exciting moment in his life, a moment of unforgettable joy.

But their plan would only work if CC won the game.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

Teaching Tips & Ideas

Prefixes are elements placed before a word to create a new word.

Look at the following examples:

Anti - against - antisocial (a person who does not like being with other people) antiwar (a person who does not believe in war; opposed to war)

Hyper - beyond the ordinary - hyperactive (a person who is very active; more active than other people), hypersensitive (a person who is very sensitive; extra sensitive to things)

il-, in-, im-, ir- = illogical (not logical)
insufficient (not sufficient; not enough) impossible (not possible)
irresponsible (not responsible)

Poly - = many - polyglot (a person who speaks many languages)
polygon (a shape with many sides and angles)

Post - = after - postseason (after the regular season)
postscript (PS; additional remarks at the end of a letter)

QUOTE OF THE DAY

"MY EDUCATION WAS DISMAL. I WENT TO A SERIES OF SCHOOLS FOR MENTALLY DISTURBED TEACHERS".
Woody Allen - US movie actor, comedian, & director

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

LAUGHTER'S THE BEST MEDICINE

OBSESSIONS

A psychiatrist was conducting a group therapy session with four young
mothers and their small children...

"You all have obsessions," he observed.

To the first mother, Mary, he said, "You are obsessed with
eating. You've even named your daughter Candy."

He turned to the second Mom, Ann: "Your obsession is with money.
Again, it manifests itself in your child's name, Penny."

He turns to the third Mom, Joyce: "Your obsession is alcohol. This
too manifests itself in your child's name, Brandy."

At this point, the fourth mother, Kathy, gets up, takes her
little boy by the hand and whispers. "Come on, Dick, we're leaving."

Teaching Tips & Ideas

THE USE OF SUFFIXES

The suffixes ment (act of, state of), er (one who does) and ness (act of, state of) can be added to words to make a noun. Add one of these suffixes to each word below so that the new word will make sense in each sentence.



1. (state) The President made a _______________to the Congress.

2. (teach) Our English___________went on vacation this weekend.

3. (deaf) People’s___________is the result of noise pollution.

4. (preach) His brother is a_____________in the Baptist church.

5. (govern/agree) The___________signed an__________with the senators.

6. (paint) Picasso, the famous______________was born in Spain.

7. (sad/play) We saw the team’s______________when their best________was hurt.

8. (fresh) _____________is important in vegetables.

9. (measure) Alex doesn’t know the exact____________of the garage door.

10. (sing) Sinatra was the best and most important American____________of all times.

11. (pay) Please, do not forget your monthly___________.

12. (labor) A person who gets paid for his work it is called a____________.

Saturday, February 10, 2007

THE CITY OF THE LONER - Chapter 6


THE MAGISTRATE

After a few days, when the City had already gotten back into its normal happy pace of life, there appeared on the streets, a person who drew attention to himself: a healthy middle aged man with a ruddy complexion and mature stature. He was well-dressed in a black suit, white shirt and bow tie and carried a lustrous cane with a gold handle. His carefully combed, white hair contrasted with his thick black moustache, which turned up at the ends. Always alone, he spoke with no one, not even to say good day. He was serious and sullen. Perhaps there existed in his nature some hidden friendliness that would someday blossom, but when people first saw him, they doubted it. His mysterious presence eventually was proved positive, however. In fact, he personally helped elevate the level of civilization in the City.

He was a judge.

At first, only important people had access to him. His first friends were Priest, Mayor and Chief of Police. As time went by, other worthy citizens got to know him. The rest of the population waited hopefully for the contagious vitality of the City to transform the Judge.

They didn’t have to wait long.

The transformation began with his face. Little by little muscles relaxed. Then his eyes softened as did his gestures. Sometimes he even smiled. Yet, he still only spoke with a select few, in closed social circles. Living in moderation, avoiding frivolous behavior, he perhaps believed that familiarity with the people of the City would diminish his prestige and the people’s respect for his position. Chief of Police became his closest companion due to their common interest in the law.

Just as the Brazilian proverb decrees that dripping water erodes stone,
the friendliness of the people in the City wore down the wall the judge had built around himself.

When Chief of Police arrived in the City, he had acted in the same manner — distant and reserved to the point of looking annoyed. With time, however, he changed and began to love the City. To show his affection, he built the jail — The Maximum Security Prison — without a doubt a useless project, considering that since it opened, only one person, I myself, have been
detained. Loneliness made me hope that the second was on the way.

The people close to Judge took it upon themselves to convince the City that the magistrate was not the insensitive brute he seemed to be. They spread the word that he was serene, humane and above all, fair. They explained that he didn’t speak to people because he had been born quiet, raised quiet, and couldn’t change this innate quality.

It was only with Priest, that Judge felt at ease in conversation. They spent hours in erudite dialogues, exchanging profound thoughts. In one of these debates, Judge revealed his belief that from the time of each person’s birth, along with original sin he or she carried an obligation: a duty to preserve the heritage left by ancestors, assuring a legacy for future generations.

“A better place than the City does not exist for those determined to fulfill this obligation,” Judge stated, as if revealing an extraordinary secret to the Priest.

With this idea in mind, Judge asked my father draw up a plan for a building dedicated to justice. It was this act that convinced the people that in spite of his appearance and demeanor, Judge had changed. Like all of the others, he too had been changed by the contagious love for the City.

My father was ecstatic to have another opportunity to achieve a professional dream. While previously he had focused on the urban landscaping of public works, his current project would permit him to affirm his talents, in the execution of both the external and internal design of the building.

From the very beginning, the subtlety of my father’s plan was evident. The external walls of the building created the impression that they hovered lightly above the ground, barely touching the earth.

Every day, Judge visited the construction site.
He accompanied progress from excavating the foundation and raising walls to the hanging of doors and other finishing touches. He observed each step with great interest. At one point while enjoying the rhythm of the construction team at work, he felt mildly perturbed when on of the men asked him a question.

“What building is this, your honor?”
“The Forum,” he answered.
“A forum? What’s that?”
“The place where the departments of Justice do their work.”
“Is it the same as the Court Building?”
“Yes.”

The tone of the Judge’s voice should have let the worker know that the magistrate was cutting him off, but instead, he persisted.

“When will the inauguration be?”

Judge did not even answer. He ignored the question and walked away irritated.

The judge thought to himself that the day chosen was, in fact, very meaningful. The commemoration of the creation of the Brazilian Supreme Court was also on September 18, but date was being kept a secret. Not even Judge’s close friends knew, so why should he tell
a mere busybody?

Throughout history, people have gotten into trouble for sticking their noses into other people’s business, and quite frankly Judge was tempted to use his gold handled cane to knock some sense into the thick head of the pest who had approached him. Controlling himself, he thought it better to leave. He walked away thinking about the inauguration. He wanted the ceremony to be simple, without speeches, without food and drinks, without fanfare. The Forum would simply open for business, and at the right moment, he would call the authorities to let them know. He hoped to call as little attention as possible to the building.
The population, however, had different ideas, and arrived in multitudes. On September 18, from outside on the surrounding sidewalks up into the interior of the building, the crowds wanted to participate and honor another step in the City’s progress.

A simple blessing of the building had been planned in keeping with the religious nature of the
people. In fact, however, the Priest had barely finished his prayer, when Judge got down to work. Without letting any emotion rise to his cool surface, he sat at his desk and started signing papers, writing dispatches, taking notes and writing observations. He went about his work as
if the opening of the building meant nothing.

Focused.
Competent.
Secure.

Without hesitating, he did his job like the intelligent veteran he was.

On the sidewalks, a line wound around the building. Men and women holding papers waited to
have documents notarized. It was their way of thanking him for building the Courthouse, so that the Judge would not think that his efforts had been in vain. In fact, the City did need a Forum. The proof was evident in the number of people being attended.

It was a busy day.

The judge wisely solved many cases and gave out sentences. Because the City was so orderly, however, there weren’t any criminal cases for him to handle. If there had been, he would undoubtedly have meted out justice to whomever and however it applied. Once when he heard a clergyman saying that Death did not distinguish the rich from the poor, he added:

“Nor does the law. Like Death, no one can escape justice.”

Such declarations reflected the Judge’s austere dignity. He was serene in his decision making
and considered fair by everyone. And if anyone can be sure of that, it is I.

I was the first in the City to be condemned for a criminal act, and am now facing my sentence of nine days in the Maximum Security Prison.

I was condemned; nevertheless, I do not bear any grudges against the Judge himself nor the judicial system that put me here.