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The highest compliment one can pay a teacher at Bishop Maginn High School is that they remind people of Sue Silverstein, the much-loved art and theology teacher and my good friend.

She has transformed so many lives and is one of the most universally loved and admired people I have ever met.

She has made our work at Bishop Maginn possible.

She lives and breathes to do good and is an inspiration to me in my work. A Catholic School teacher, she is, unlike so many of her fellow Christians, paying attention to the teachings of Jesus Christ.

What everyone is saying about Lareina Torain is that she is the next Sue Silverstein. That’s why I asked to interview her. They had a point. She is a truly remarkable person, particularly at any age, astonishing for a young person fresh out of college.

Lareina, who is 23, is the youngest and newest teacher on the Bishop Maginn faculty. She has had a solid connection to Sue for much of her young life. She played the character of Sue Silverstein in the Bishop Maginn senior skit in 2016.  Sue Silverstein taught her every year of her four years as a student at BMHS.

Sue became her model of the perfect teacher for her. “She is the foundation, the stone,” she says of Sue.

Sue spotted Lareina’s intelligence and drive early on, encouraged her, taught her, and helped her through difficult times. “I want to do the same thing for my students that she did for me,” Lareina told me today when I went to Bishop Maginn to talk to her in her classroom.

As a new and thoughtful addition to the school’s faculty, I plan to visit her every couple of months and follow her life as a new teacher in a complex and fascinating place.

After speaking with Lareina for nearly an hour, I saw that she could also do much more even than Sue did – her understanding of pop culture and diversity and the diverse youth that make up the school brings a new dimension to Bishop Maginn. She is something they have been looking for for years, and they can thank the pandemic for finding it now.

Perhaps because she was a teenager so recently, she understands her students in a particular way. She hasn’t forgotten what it’s like and grew up in their dizzying and all-encompassing culture.

She says she has to learn to connect with them, prepare them for a diverse and divided world. She supports the Black Lives Matter movement and is an advocate for transgender people. She is eager to break down the stereotypes that block our understanding of the modern world, here and in other countries.

“I need to open up my students to other people, other cultures.” As an Afro-American and a Latina, she sees the world through several different lenses. She’s often right where her students are.

Lareina’s brain fairly sparkles; she has so many fresh and topical ideas.  She is awash in enthusiasm.

One way to relate to modern students, she says, is to use music to reach them. She starts her classes by playing a couple of minutes of music from our country and other countries and cultures.

They listen, talk about the rhythms and beats and writing. This relaxes her students right away, and their culture – everyone at Bishop Maginn is deeply into music – connects with hers, something they don’t expect from a teacher.

She also wants to have an impact on the students that Sue Silverstein has had. “I don’t know if I would be here if she weren’t for her. It’s an honor to be compared to her. Everyone loves her, and I would love to be loved like she is. I still call her Mrs. Silverstein; I can’t help it.”

This may be more possible than she might think, being so new to the job. Sue Silverstein is one of the people who told me that Lareina is the next Sue Silverstein. Lareina is too modest to describe herself that way, but there is something quite special about her.

Sue, she says, is one of the strongest people she has ever met. “She carries all the water and all the weight. She is the foundation of the school and the good things that happen here.”

She sees her challenge as opening up her students to a changing and sometimes angry world. She wants them to understand it and think about what they want from life.

“I hope to help them make good decisions for themselves. I happen to believe that college is not for everyone. If they want to make different choices, they should be encouraged, not forced into following the crowd.”

“These kids are complicated,” she said, “they have 100 devices in their ear all the time; they have to deal with social media, music, and fight distraction all the time. My job is to break through.

Lareina is a dog lover; she has two Yorkies at home, she loves reading, music, and movies.

Lareina already loves to teach, loves her students, listens to them, helps them when they’re in need, supports them when they are low, guides them when they stumble or fall. We talked about how easy it is to be upbeat when you start, how hard to maintain that enthusiasm over time. I guessed her answer. Sue did it. And Sue is middle-aged and has been teaching a long time.

Sue approached Lareina bout a teaching assistant’s job last Spring when she graduated from Sienna College. Even before she could start work as a TA, the pandemic changed her life. First, it nearly shut the school down. Then, it brought in a flood of new students.

The school’s enrollment exploded – many people didn’t care for how the public schools handled the pandemic – and Bishop Maginn desperately needed more teachers. Lareina got promoted by Principal Mike Tolan before she even arrived. He was delighted when she accepted.

She teaches Spanish 1 and 2 and World History.

Her first teaching job is a transformative one for the school and its students.

Lareina brings a modern cultural sensitivity to her students. She is a fresh wind in a place that is eager and willing to change.

She emphasizes diversity in her classes. She is part Latina, part African-American. She can relate to the students and the idea of technology and diversity, a perfect fit for the school, one of the most diverse schools in the Northeast, if not the country.

I asked her to list some of the most critical challenges for a young teacher at a poor Catholic High School in the middle of Albany’s most impoverished neighborhood. What were her priorities as a teacher?

She didn’t blink.

l. Trust.” I need to be honest and transparent; I need to be open to them and encourage them to be available to me.”

2 Age.” I understand that their lives are full of distractions. Tech is in their heads 24 hours a day, seven days a week. They have 100 thoughts in their heads at all times. It’s not easy to learn.”

3. “Music goes a long way towards connecting with kids; if you watch them, they are listening to music all day. Listening to music and talking about music goes a long way towards opening them up to me.”

4. Diversity isn’t just about being African-American or Latina, she says.” Diversity is about understanding the country, the world, and the many diverse and different people and cultures we know little about and are taught little about.”

5. Help. “As a teacher,” she said, “It’s my job to spot trouble, to watch for the signs of distress, body language, attention. It’s my job to be observant. It’s my job to help them.”

I wish I had more time to talk with this extraordinarily articulate and passionate young teacher, but the lunch bell rang. I could have easily talked with her for another hour.

She surely could be the next Silverstein, the future of this, or whatever school she is at. She strikes me as a perfect fit for Bishop Maginn High School. Principal  Tolan will give her guidance and room to try out her ideas, and her mentor and friend Sue Silverstein are in the classroom right across the hall. Sue knows how to be observant and how-to guide without suffocating.

I wish I had a teacher like this young woman; my daughter had a teacher like Lareina. I will enjoy watching the ripples that flow from the great splash I am sure she will make. I hope to share her journey with you, bumps and all. Bishop Maginn is a mesmerizing place to be. It says so much about America.

Lareina is savvy without bearing arrogant, compassionate without being sappy, empathetic without being smothering. And like any great teacher, she is passionate about teaching, determined to be of value to her students.

She is impressive, way beyond her years.

I talked to her about the Army Of Good and our work and encouraged her to let me or Sue know if her students needed help if they didn’t have shoes or jackets or required books or music they couldn’t afford.

I was excited when I left her office. I think she will be the next Sue Silverstein if she wants to be. I think I’ve met the future of Bishop Maginn, and its name is Lareina.

Ploe’s mattress is on the way. It was wonderful to meet with him – I admire his courage and decency –  and see all the new students and teachers at Bishop Maginn as it begins a school year.

It was a very welcome sight to see the halls of Bishop Maginn High School jammed with chattering students this morning; I’ve never seen Sue Silverstein happier. Bishop Maginn came through the worst of the pandemic with flying colors, and people noticed.

The freshmen class is almost double the size of last year. Instead of worrying if he could keep all of his teachers, Principal Mike Tolan is scrambling to hire more. Refugee and inner-city parents were paying attention last year. The school stayed open to those who wanted them to and got every child through the crisis safely. Every senior who wanted to go to college is in college now.

Families said they want a safe and compassionate school that protects their children from the pandemic,  teaches them fluent  English, keeps them safe, supports them, gets them into college. There are no bullies at Bishop Maginn, no taunts, no fights or beatings.

As difficult as the last couple of years have been, the pandemic has helped turn Bishop Maginn around as the city and the school begins to prepare for hundreds of Afghan immigrants and their children. For the first time in a while, the school is moving to handle bigger classes, hire younger teachers.

This summer, we helped with two Wish Lists, one for pandemic safety equipment and another for art supplies. The cabinets are full, the kids painting away.

Every student in the room – the class has 30 students – asked me to thank the Army Of Good for the cabinets filled with art supplies; Sue says they have great materials to work with, and kids who were never interested in art are lining up to take the class.

I went to Albany to see the school start face-to-face again and meet the new students and teachers.

I’ve never seen students so happy to be in school.

I met with Ploe for about a half-hour. The teachers noticed a week ago that he is suffering from severe black pain, and they found out he and his brother Hay Htoo (both spent most of their lives in Thai refugee camps after they fled the Karen massacres in Myanmar.

Their family is Karen; they are devout Christians. The military has been gunning them down and killing them again and again.

Floe is going to see an orthopedist, the school has found the family a queen-sized bed for the brothers to sleep in, and I bought a mattress, pillows, sheets, and pillowcases; today,  they are on the way to Ploe’s family in Albany. We’ll keep an eye on his medical care.

I also learned that his digital camera was used for art class students during the pandemic broke and no longer worked. Ploe loves photography; I’m getting him a new camera.

He came to Bishop Maginn two years ago after being bullied and taunted. Even though the family couldn’t pay anything towards his tuition, the school took him anyway, and the Army of Good raised enough tuition money to get him through to graduation.

He is a different person than the one I met last year.

He loves country music, perhaps the only one in the school who does; he has a dozen good friends, a girlfriend in Utica, N.Y. he met at a Karen festival and talks to nightly on Zoom; he plans to go to community college in two years, he wants to be a mechanic with his own shop. He is an excellent student, says Sue Silverstein; he is outgoing and popular.

He was confident, articulate, and courteous during our talk. The last time I saw him, he was shy, and way we could barely speak.

I did notice him winging as we walked together down the halls; he clearly was uncomfortable and in some pain. He and his family follow the Myanmar tragedy, but he says he has to leave it behind, it took enough of his life, and it is unbearable to hear the stories of killing and torture.

Despite the awful news from Myanmar, there is a lot of excitement in the school.

There are new refugee kids all over the place, a tremendous sense of enthusiasm and excitement in the and additional excitement over the Afghan students expected to come to the school. These kids are eager to meet them and help them.

I had a great feeling visiting the school today. I’m grateful that we can get Ploe a comfortable bed, delighted to see the morale of the faculty soar, and amazed to see how happy the students are to be back in school with their friends.

Masks are mandated here, and no one has complained, and the school still faces a world of challenges and difficulties. Everyone at the school keeps telling me how much we had to do with surviving and even blossoming. Mike’s biggest problem at the moment is getting enough teachers and making room for the newcomers.

But Sue and Principal Mike Tolan were as upbeat as I’ve ever seen them. They went through so much and worked so hard, and I hope and pray for a great year for them and the school. I confess to loving that place. Sue fights every day for every child. That’s why Ploe is getting his mattress and bed.

I can’t tell you how proud I am of what we’ve done here. I really missed my regular visits. Next week, I’m going back to interview a new English Teacher I met today. She is dynamic and charismatic. Teaching English in that school where so many people are just learning it is a special challenge. She loves it.

But I know better than to relax or get cocky. I’ve got some more books to order, more masks to buy, and soon, shoes and sweaters for the winter. The refugee kids will need them, the Afghan kids too.

 

I’ve had Zinnia for a month now; I’ve been undergoing intensive socialization training in preparation for certifying her for advanced therapy work in assisted care facilities and hospice.

I believe she has met at least 300 people by now if I include the students and staff at Bishop Maginn and the residents of the Mansion and a considerable chunk of the residents of my town (dentist, cafe, bank). The therapy dog schools suggest a puppy meets at least 200 people by 16 weeks.

We’re way past that.

Today, Maria and I went to the local Artisan’s Market in town to buy a gift for a friend and visit Carol Conklin, a very gifted artist and a close friend of ours. I brought Zinnia, this was a new place, and a unique chance to test my calming training.

I took her for a brisk walk first to expel some of that intense puppy energy.

I brought her in the bookstore, where everyone remarked on how calm she was. Then back to the Artisan’s Market, where I walked around with her and then asked her to lie down, which she did.

And I asked her to stay, which she also did.

In a couple of minutes, she was asleep. Everyone in the shop came up to me to tell me how calm she was.

The most common – nearly 100 percent – comment about Zinnia is that she is calm. Invariably, the explanation is followed by a question: how did I get her to be so quiet? This question comes about almost every breed and kind of dog  – purebred,  rescue shelter, and lots of stories of woe.

And calmness is not a frequent train in many puppies or older dogs, at least according to the laments that I am hearing.

I want to write about this and share what I believe about calm dogs since hyper, and sometimes destructive dogs seem to be such an enormous problem for dog lovers. As always, I’m not telling anyone what to do, I’m sharing what it is that I do. People can take it or leave it.

Yes, Zinnia is well-bred, but no, she did not come to us calm.

I am no Cesar Milan; I am no dog trainer. Dogs and their owners are all different, and what I do may not have the least bit of relevance for what you do, given your age, dog,  gender, temperament, environment, anxiety, patience, and focus. Some dogs are inbred, some are not. Some are dominant, others submissive.

No trainer or book or video or pet store classes can cover all of the possibilities for you or me. We are on our own, we have to think it through. You can’t train a dog in four weeks, training is never done.

Anyone who gets a rescue dog like Bud should be prepared for intense calming training (like Bud has gotten) because many rescued dogs have endured trauma and disruption and fear. It’s great to rescue a dog, but be prepared to do the work the dog may need. The tricky thing about Bud was that I never knew exactly what happened to him, so it was hard to work around his fear.

It still is sometimes. Zinnia was a blank slate; she had no traumas to work around. It was up to me to screw it up or not.

Our dogs and we are all different, no matter what our friend Cesar says on his TV show, what works for him and his assistants (or for me) may have no bearing on you or your dogs. He doesn’t put his failures on TV.

I like to put mine on the blog. That way, you know I’m just like you.

I reject the Communist approach to training – one trainer, one method for all. That is a quick path to failure in my mind.

I want to say that Zinnia is not, by nature, a calm dog. She has enormous energy, huge prey, and play drive and will run and play and smell for hours without tiring or slowing down. She chases poor Bud all over the house and yard; we have to give him constant refuge in his crate. I have to work every day to show her how to let go and settle. She is learning.

I can tell you with conviction that yelling at a hyper puppy or adult dog is almost guaranteed to fail 100 percent of the time. I speak from personal experience. Nothing reinforces an out of control or hyper dog more than paying too much attention.  I have a mantra: when that happens, no touch, no talk, no eye contact, no shouting.

I walk away, take a deep breath, try in a couple of minutes.

And it’s also important to say that she is not a perfect dog, and never will be. There is no such thing, and if there were, I wouldn’t want one.

Zinnia has attempted to chew many things that are not hers, sometimes balks at obedience, sometimes challenges my authority, and I quickly go into my “Calming Training” mode.

For several days, she barked and shrieked when she wanted to come out of the crate.

I waited her out each time – she came out when she was quiet only. She got it after some ear-rattling mornings.

The calming training is working, but it is a copout and a lie for people to think a dog comes this way because she is beautiful or well-bred. We have worked hard every single day to get to calm. Maria can testify to that. There is more to do.

Cesar Milan is right when he talks about the need for humans to be the leader, not just the love interest or the best friend of a new dog.

Our world is not natural to them; it is arousing and confusing and often frightening. Beyond that, dogs closely mirror the emotional construct of their humans, although many people refuse to believe that. If I am nervous, she will be worried. If I am anxious, she will want to protect me. If I am angry, she will be afraid of me. If I am loud or bullying or impatient, she will ignore me.

If I am patient and loving, she will learn to listen to me.

None of this is natural; all of it is learned, trained, taught, and repeated. Dogs are hyper when they get little or no exercise;  when they have hyper humans shouting at them angrily with many words in strange languages when there is tension in a family, and most importantly, when there is no work for them to do.

Cesar likes to tell people to wear a weighted backpack to keep them tired and focused on the walk instead of getting distracted by squirrels.

That is not something I wish to do, I put a small thin chain around Zinnia’s neck, and when she runs off to the side or ahead of me, it pinches her neck lightly, and she stops.

I am teaching her to walk calmly and “heel” by reaching down every five minutes or so and holding a treat out by my left knee.

I tap the knee and say “heel,” and when I say “heel,” she comes right up alongside me, and I get to praise her. It’s working. It will take weeks.

Zinnia needs to be calm because I don’t wish to be yanked all over the country when I get to 75 some years of age down the road. I don’t care for the weighted backpack idea.

All dogs need work, and it need not be sheep or agility. It can be regular exercise walks, chasing balls and toys, regular training sessions, rides in cars, visiting other dogs, watching over children, tending to needy humans, keeping people company, cheering people up.

What they don’t need is to lie around in basements and yards for hours and hours with nothing to do and nobody to be with. If you have no work for a dog, consider not getting one (that is young) because he or she is not likely to be calm.

And again, the work doesn’t have to be saving lives or jumping through hoops. It can be any regular activity that breaks up listlessness and gets the dog to react and consider things.

It’s doing absolutely nothing that causes the problem. Once or twice a day, I train Zinnia. Three or four times a day, she plays with Bud or Fate.

Once a day, we take a walk together. Three or four times a week, we visit the Mansion or Bishop Maginn. The rest of the time, she is learning to be calm: with my obedience training, in my gated office, and after dark, when the sun goes down, no more activity or playing.

If necessary, I put a leash on her, tie it to my chair. At first, she yowled and struggled and pulled. Now, when I put the leash on her, and say “quiet time,” she lies down after a whine or two and goes to sleep.

Evenings are quiet, peaceful. Calm.

When she gets excited – which she often does – I give her a marrow bone or a hard and healthy treat. I put it in her crate so she can eat it in peace. Or I put her outside to blow off some steam.

There are bones and toys all over the house.

She always has something to chew, carry around, or play with. When she chews on the wrong thing, I give her the right thing. I honestly believe that anyone can have a calm dog.

Yesterday, at the request of the owners, we brought Zinnia into Jean’s Place, a diner, stuffed with people and reeking of food smells. She sat by my feet and lay down when I asked her to. Person after person came up and told me horror story after horror story about their dogs and how they would never dare to bring them into a place like Jean’s.

I remember Robin, the waitress asking me for help; her dog was barking and jumping all around the table during dinner driving her and her husband crazy. I told her to get an empty soda can, put a bunch of pennies into it and tape the top. When the dog jumps or barks, shout off and throw the can at her feet.

Her eyes got wide, and next week, she told me she only had to do it once; the dog has not bothered her during meals since.

They need to learn the one thing they are never taught in the natural or human world – to do nothing. To understand the rules by which they must have to live, none of them inherent to dogs.

I explained to Robin that this is a dignity issue. Dogs love to be what we want them to be, this is why they get to sleep in a bed, and squirrel raccoons don’t.

The most important requirement for a calm dog is a peaceful and clear and determined owner. We are smarter than them; we are stronger; they depend on us for everything they need to survive.

A calm dog needs training and activity, for sure, but more than anything else, they need a human with a relaxed and clear head.

Zinnia and I are bonding, as I’ve been writing. Maria has been kind enough to try to document the process in photos. This morning, I picked Zinnia up to say hello, and she just put her head down and went to sleep.

I guess we are bonding; I have a benign sort of Grandpa look in this photo. Maria says it is happiness. It did feel pretty good. I am happy Zinnia and I are bonding, which Why suggests we will have a meaningful and loving life together.

When a dog naps under your feet, he or she is trusting you.

Bonding is cute, but it is also more than that. It leads to better training and an easier and happier life together. Hunting, therapy work, agility, K-9, and search and rescue work,  herding, and farm work are all dependent on human-dog bonding.

Bonding comes in many ways – feeding, training, exercising, playing, working together. I see that when I write, Zinnia likes to go and lie down next to me. She senses that this is one part of our work together, and work is often bonding for dogs and people.

There are clear signs of bonding: eye contact, the dog infrequently checking with a human, happiness to see us, an ability to relax with a person, listening to a person, seeking a person out for affection or attention.  As the photo suggests, if Zinnia can fall asleep like that in my arms, she trusts me.

It also helps that I feed her and train her. Both are bonding exercises. Dogs tend to love the person who feeds them and pays close attention to them. That makes training much more manageable.

The training itself is bonding; effective training can’t be done in four weeks of classes at Petsmart; it goes on throughout the life of the dog.

Quite often, dogs will bond with other dogs rather than people if the person doesn’t find a way to spend time along with the dog or train and walk or exercise them.

Bonding takes to love a step further. A bonded dog-human relationship is one that’s steeped in equal parts of mutual trust and respect.

It took Bud a year to bond with Maria and me, and even then, he can be tentative and fearful, it was clear when he came that he had never bonded with a human being, especially a male.

A strong bond is essentially the glue of your relationship. It’s what keeps your dog from running away without a backward glance when you forget to shut the front door,  or aren’t paying attention on a walk. It’s the reason he listens when you ask him to do something.

The bond between a dog and a human encourages attentiveness, good manners, and partnership. I insist that my dogs respect my work and my dignity. People tell me all the time how their Labs chewed up their sofas, chairs, and carpets, almost as if they are proud of how destructive they can be.

Those are the kinds of Labs I choose not to live with. I think we all know Labs, who are ball addicts and house wreckers. This is one reason I am devoted to crates for training.

That won’ t happen here. I won’t permit it. It’s a dignity question, and it has never happened to me or any house I’ve lived in with Labs or other breeds. That’s the great danger of treating dogs like furbabies or pathetic abused creatures. We can quickly lose their respect.

Biologists say that bonded dogs tune into human language, and read our moods more intuitively than was once thought. I am already working in dog therapy work with Zinnia, she looks at me for direction, and I respond by pointing to a person who wants to see her, and saying “Zinnia, go see Wayne,” and then praising her when she does.

It’s vital to see training as a lifelong process. Also, I need to remember to praise Zinnia long after she is trained in basic obedience and is no longer a puppy. Dogs need positive reinforcement and appreciation for all of their lives; it is essential to deepening our bonds with them.

It’s also essential to be unpredictable, to walk in different places, train in different ways,  keep the dog guessing and paying attention a bit, they get bored and disinterested just like we do.

I feel very good about my bonding with Zinnia so far. She is a working dog, and more intuitive than I would expect her to build at nine weeks. My challenge is to build on this, not to get lazy, arrogant, or smug.

I’ll write more on bonding as it hopefully develops. Zinnia loves to work with me, that’s a great sign.

I invited Maria to come with me to the Bishop Maginn High School with me on my weekly visit, and she surprised me by agreeing to come. I felt strongly she would love it there, as I do. In fact, I’ve started calling the school “The School Of Love.”

Maria is justifiably obsessive about working all day (and many nights), she is trying (and I am urging her) to slow it down a bit and take more time for herself. That is very difficult for her.

I’m not great at relaxing either. We  understand each other.

I told Maria she would connect with the students in the art class, and she would love their wonderful teacher, Sue Silverstein. I was right.

Maria said she doubted they could learn much from her, or that she had any ideas for teaching them. Maria said the same thing about her art classes at the Mansion. They love her there, they especially love her art classes.

She undervalues herself often.

We meet Blue, a senior at the school and an artist who impressed us both. She and Maria hit it off right away, she loved looking at Maria’s fiber art on our cellphones. I spotted one of her paintings (she’s holding it above) and asked if I could sell it for her. She said sure. She said it is a representation of the culture of her people, she is from Japan.

The painting costs $30, if you want it, e-mail me at [email protected].

Maria is a natural teacher. She knows too well what it is like to have  uncaring and remote teachers.  She is also a gifted and passionate artist. Kids pick up on that.

We got to the school around one, Red came too. Many of the students were out taking state tests, it was quiet there.

The students loved Maria, and I thought she and Sue were going to run off together. Maria felt the love in that building, as I have, and neither of us has ever felt it in a school before.

The Bishop Maginn school has a feeling about it, of acceptance and safety, and increasingly, of creativity.

In the late afternoon, after we left, Sue sent Maria a photo she took of the Christerer twins, they wanted to try to sketch Maria’s I Am Enough poster. Maria loved  being there, she was stunned by the feeling in the school and the atmosphere.

There is something very special about this high school, I felt it too, and I have never felt it before.

On the drive home, she was quiet. I asked her what was  going on, and she said she was thinking about the feeling in the school, she couldn’t quite get it out of her mind. These warm and creative and open kids can get into your head. They got into mine.

Please note the art students are using the markers bought for them by the Army Of Good.

The twins are refugees from Myanmar, they are eager to join the new school choir, I got a video of them singing and talking about their lives. I’ll post it tonight. They are using paint and brushes and paper from the Army Of Good.

I was very happy Maria came with me. I’m going back every week and I might ask to teach a writing class for a couple of weeks.

If you are interested in purchasing Blue’s painting – it is about her culture in Japan – let me know. [email protected], I’m asking $30.

(There are four packs of black drawing paper on the Bishop Maginn High School Wish List, they are the only items remaining on the list. Each one costs $11.06 and they have been hanging up there all day, making me a little nuts.

People have given a ton of money to the Bishop Maggin list, and I have no complaints to make, only thanks. I’ll give it a few hours and them buy the four of these packs of black paper if nobody else can. They are in my head, and will keep me up tonight.