That Yankee Bastard

nce upon a time I played in a fantasy baseball league with a bunch of dudes from Georgia. My team name? That Yankee Bastard. TYB (or, in the rare week I had the upper hand, That Bastard) had its moments (Thank you, Justin Verlander, for that 86 point no-no in '07!). But having gone to school in the South, I have a good feeling for what flies and what hits the fan.

That being said, from what I've been told, Texas is not the South. I know Texans, I went to school with Texans, I like Texans. Believe it or not, I've found an odd kinship between New Yorkers and Texans. Both groups have a certain, "This is how we do things" mentality. (More explicitly, in NYC it's, "This is how we do things. Don't like it? Go fuck yourself." In Texas, I take the follow-up sentences to be implied.) Texas females are one of the few groups of newbies to NYC that I don't worry about.

But this time, I'll be on Texas turf.

Looking ahead, I've drafted a sketch of what I'd like to accomplish on this first trip:

1) It's important that I get a good feel for what financial education is being currently offered and how Hooey can complement that.

2) It's equally important to listen to folks in the community to make sure Hooey addresses the financial problems or gaps in learning that they say currently exist.

3) As a you-don't-even-have-to-open-your-mouth-'cause-we-already-know Yankee, I need to propose a simple, straight-forward, easily executable plan that will not get rejected out of hand. That plan, at this time, is to provide every public school third grader and every local public library in the chosen community with a free copy of Hooey Savvy's Cookie-Wise Pablo (in English or in Mexican-Spanish). I won't ask for it to become part of the curriculum and I won't ask for librarians to read it. I'd just like it to be available at home or in the local library.

4) I need to shake a lot of hands and arrange a lot of face time. I could easily email all the folks that I've built a database around, but they can just as easily drag and drop my ass into their trash cans. By making the trip I show I am interested in their community and that my ass, for as scrawny as it is, does not belong in the trash.

5) Thanks to the standards set by "No Child Left Behind" and the Texas Department of Education's buying power, it would behoove me to bring Hooey in line with these standards as best as possible.

Those are the broad strokes. Jamie Oliver didn't just show up in West Virginia and commandeer an elementary school kitchen. It takes time and trust. If I can put in the time and build the trust, hopefully I can accomplish a fraction of what he has.

Project Updates: The L.A. illustrator has looked at the text of Hooey, likes it and is putting together a budget proposal. To fill in other gaps in the budget, I've also reached out to a local video production guy about a short Kickstarter presentation, have put together a preliminary list of Kickstarter rewards to offer and have some musicians potentially interested in recording some of the songs from Hooey. The Boston Squeeze continues apace. Have finally found a format that will carry the story and, thanks to Mr. Patrick Jordan, I've staked out some possible locations for the Squeeze's fictional Boston-area stadium. It's not a Pettitte curve yet, but it sure ain't a hanging curve.