English Narrative Brandon Slater

One warm spring day at the DMV on 30th street in Canton, I became the happiest kid at that point in time. One of my dreams had been fulfilled. I attained a goal that many men have attained before I have. I am the last in the Slater family to make it to this peak of life. This was yet, another step toward manhood. On May fifteenth of the year 2008, I, Brandon Slater, received my driver’s license.
After a year of driving with my parents and waiting for classes, I finally climbed one more step to freedom. It was a tough road. I had my temporary permit for over a year before I even took my driving classes. We were waiting for springtime so I didn’t have to drive in the snow. I had practiced with three different cars. I had a Cadillac, Nissan Xterra, and a Nissan Altima to practice with. This was a struggle because once I got used to one car I had to switch. However, I had no choice but to just drive. I got the Cadillac stuck in snow. I almost wrecked the Xterra and the Altima was a speed demon. I think training with three different types of vehicles actually helped me out because it gave me experience with multiple types of cars. It improved my maneuverability and handling.
Upon receiving my license to drive, I promptly drove to school. As I passed my classmates, I flaunted my newly acquired prize. I worked hard and impatiently waited for many months to attain this goal. I battled through the three hour driving classes for two weeks and I beat the in-car driving with East Canton’s own Mr. Doug Potts. I skipped school to go take my final driving exam. My mom was up from Florida, so I was driving her car. I was a tad nervous considering she had just bought a new car, which I had not ever driven before. I was more nervous than an inmate awaiting trial. After I mastered the cones, the neighborhood driving was as easy as a basketball game against Dick Cheney. I pulled into the parking lot of the D.M.V. where my beloved mother was waiting. The only points I missed on the exam were on my parking. I didn’t understand why because my parking is always superb. I must have been too nervous to think about my parking. This was a mere speck on the screen though. I had become a licensed driver, which will remain that way for a very long time.

The Return...

I will be coming back soon.

Cry Me A River

Something I can't stand is people that complain about life and the things in it. If you're going to complain about something, then make it legit, useful, and constructive. Don't just bring something up about your life and say, "Hey this sucks." Or bring up a subject you don't like and bash it while knowing little or nothing about it. I hear people all the time complain about the war, music, school, and church. Now not everyone complains about these things but these are what get me the most riled up. Music and church are the ones that hit me the hardest because they are so close to me. If you're going to complain about something, at least know what you're complaining about. Don't give one reason why you hate it or don't like it and that one reason is your own biased opinion. If you can't take the time to know what you’re bashing then you don't deserve a mouth to talk out of. If I am arguing/debating about something, I know what I am debating for and against. To bash your enemy, you must know your enemy.

Fight Songs

I don't know about you guys but banging my head is a cool thing to do. It goes along with the way I live: Long hair, heavy metal music. It can be a stress relief as well. These songs inspire me to hit someone extra harder on the football field or basketball court (yes I hit people during a basketball game). Here they are...



A Monument Encased In Ash-The Showdown

From the album "A Chorus Of Obliteration" I chose the first song off of the album. "A Monument Encased Ash" is a freakin sweet tune. The opening snare and bass kick gets me ready for the whole song. Then you have the intro for about a minute and a half. The song also has the three different vocal styles. You have a low, guttural growl, a kind of high pitched scream, and a singing voice. When I saw these guys in concert they said they wanted everyone to bang their heads till they turn green. You better believe I did. Every time I jam on my air-guitar, I end up losin some sanity and quite a few brain cells



Meaning In Tragedy-As I Lay Dying:

From the album, "Shadows Are Security" I have also chosen the first song off of this album as well. The song is named "Meaning In Tragedy". This Song is not for the faint of heart. The first time I heard this, I thought I was going to kill my teacher Mrs. Pero. I had uploaded the cd onto her computer. I told her I would take it off as soon as I had it on my Ipod. I didn't tell her I would give the class a little sample. Mrs. Pero was the closest to the computer, her first reaction was to put her hands to her ears and yell at me to turn it off. Luckily, she loved me so I didn't get in trouble. My classmates didn't seem to like it either. I've loved this song since I bought their cd.



I Will Be Heard-Hatebreed

I first head this song when I was a wee lad. I didn't quite know what this song meant nor did I typically like this type of music. I bought the song on itunes and couldn't stop listening to it. The song has a very nice bass sound to it. The screaming vocals of Jamie Jasta add to the heaviness. The song is short but it is effective when it comes to getting you good and angry for a fight. If you don't knock someone's teeth out after listening to this song you have problems.



The Enemy-Godsmack

When I first heard this song, I wanted to hit someone. My mom is lucky she makes my food or else she was toast. I immediately bought this song. I listened to it before a basketball game once and I absolutely creamed a kid. Luckily, The ref didn't see it or I might have been thrown out of the game. The bass in this song is also very good. Not many bands make it a point to make the base that audible but in this song the guitar doesn’t cover it up that much. The song is base driven and I love it.



This song is fast and heavy, Heavy enough to crush your mother and fast enough to travel time. The violent breakdown near the end adds the fight theme to it. I let my mom listen to his and she was disgusted. She told me I shouldn't listen to such garbage. I said ok...but listened to it anyway. I was on my way to a football game and was listening to this song on the bus. The dude that left with a broken ankle is probably scared of this song now.

This has been the list of my fight songs. I will probably post more later so keep all your teeth and don't break anyone's bones until I’m done.

Proud of My Students!

Well, I just have to post a blog about the wonderous students at ECHS. I am so proud of all of them. Brandon is a great example of the kind of big-hearted students I was priviledged to teach. I will forever be proud to say that I taught this remarkably talented bunch of kids! Bravo, Brandon!

Dreams

My report on the book about william powell called,"Clearview: America's Golf Course"

Brandon Slater
Mod 1
5/29/07
Bleak Dreams of a Black
Dreams can be as big as you make them. William Powell lived his dream and this inspires me to do the same. We don’t just get inspiration on demand. It comes to us when we witness something immaculate. Something that is so breath-taking that you never forget. It’s something that that sticks with you for the rest of your natural born life.
When you hear of someone being inspired, what do you think they are talking about? Being inspired by athletes, parents, or even teachers. Inspiration comes from seeing something you find amazing; a big NBA basketball player scoring forty points a game, a teacher retiring after forty years, or a cancer patient living through a brain tumor and still have full use of everything in his body. You can’t tell yourself to be inspired. You have to witness the amazing, observe the awesome, and peep impossible. To be truly inspired you must dream. Dreamers envision themselves doing what they truly want in those dreams. Dreams don’t just happen. Many dreams are crazy but all of your dreams can tell you something.
I am inspired by many things: God, music, athletes. This man’s inspiration came from a game he loved: the game that he was denied playing so many times because of his color, but did this stop him. You better believe it didn’t. Being tossed out of golf clubs did not burden William Powell. He did not let anything stand in his way from playing his game. He loved golf so much that he hiked twenty-one miles to play in a tournament that he didn’t even win. He came close to winning but he still did not win. I cannot even ponder how he felt on the twenty-one mile hike home. I could never hike twenty-one miles to play my favorite game. The sacrifice this man made for the game made him what he is today.
This book inspires me to keep on keepin’ on. The man this book is based on went through too many struggles to be where he is now. I will never struggle as much as he has. It makes me think of the petty struggles I go through. William went through war, racism, and designing and maintaining a golf course. I go through two-a-days. If I even attempted to do what he has, it would be like a llama eating a giraffe. His accomplishments out weigh mine a million to one. His life has been abundant with awards, achievement, and accomplishments.
Being a black man in William Powell’s day meant being stronger than any white man. What the white kids did, William had to do twice as better. This was told to him by his school principal. He did just that. He accomplished a feat that no black man had done before, he beat white guys at “their” game, and he has ran a golf course for, almost, the last sixty years.
William Powell was an outcast but he was never counted out and you can believe that. This man of color could and would do anything for his family, friends, and the game he still holds so dear. He rose through the ashes to give him the name he has today. In a word this man is…Amazing.

Coaches

Something that has been a problem to me of late has been the coaches that I have for the sports I play. Our basketball coach is being a really jerk as of late. It seems that since he has obtained the job for head basketball coach, his head has swelled into a big fat balloon. I don't like him very much anyway. It seems as if my hair prevents me from playing good basketball. His rule for hair is that it has to be above the eyebrows and above the collar. This angers me. Last year, the rule was that the hair had to be above the collar. I had gotten away with putting it in a ponytail. Now, Spurgeon has to be a Nazi and put the “above the eyebrow” rule in. His excuse for this is because it makes the team look bad. My argument with that is how about when Kellan Arick blows up on a referee when he doesn't get his way with a call. Or how about when Donny Crawford elbows someone in the face on purpose. What does that show? I guess my hard work and effort is cancelled out because of my preference for long hair. It seems as if that I can't play as well as the stars of the team because of my hair length. That’s awkward because it seems to me that I was one of the leading scorers and I probably had the best free throw percentage. I had to be a good player for the fact that I started just about every game. So, my question to coach Spurgeon is why he would incorporate this rule. If I can play just as hard as the “stars” then what is the problem. Well, I’m done for now.