Holidays

I believe that this is my second post composed on a plane. POSTS ON A PLANE!!! It really is one of the few genuine moments in which I have complete solitude to just think and write… about nothing in particular. But at least this time there is no farty guy to accompany me in this flight.
When I land in Chicago (from Phoenix), I will have to stay put for two days, and not be able to leave until Monday morning (it is currently Saturday evening). I am thinking about contacting Uber, or Chris Enany, one of my long lost conservative friends from Ithaca, all…two of them. I know that he busted out there to try out his comedy after being a banker in North Carolina; one of those jobs that help you realize that boring jobs, no matter how lucrative, turn out to suck.
Today kicked off winter break, two weeks of pure glory, pure running around visiting random people and sitting in my basement room and rediscovering how limited Simsbury is glory. At some point I really need to sign up for some off the wall volunteer holiday project in some abandoned land, like western Arkansas, whatever the hell might actually be out there. But, in reflection to the wandering trip this past summer that I more or less gave up going into grand detail about in prior posts (teaching will make you give up on many things, such as fun…and personal life), I am excited to kick it in Chicago for whatever reason. A hotel room and hanging around the airport waiting for a standby flight could be fun, but I think just getting lost and possibly hunting down an old friend to possibly sleep on a couch is much, much more appealing.
In regards to teaching, I have reached my 75% mastery point, with only one semester left of my teaching commitment. I must say that as the teaching skills have actual proved themselves to be not too shabby, it is rather clear that my interest in teaching is quite shabby. I am in the process of applying to doctoral programs, so far at ASU and … University of Alaska Fairbanks. I could go to Alaska for 4 to 5 years. I would be there til I’m 30 and would have fought 3 bears, in addition to earning a Ph.D. Minor detail. Though, with my stellar performance on the GRE (HORGODDAMNRIFFIC), I think I better start to consider a Ph.D. in deep frying frozen cod pieces. Or fries, or even slices of pizza if the Arizona State Fair would have anything to do with it.
Well, the battery symbol on my laptop is saying that it doesn’t want to be my teammate in this endeavor anymore. Quick notes though, being a hockey goalie is going well, currently 2-1 on the season and in second place with a GAA of over 0.8. Had my first shift for Radio Phoenix which could have been much rougher, and I accidentally killed Quentin, my beta fish, by forgetting him outside and he froze to death as I drank to delight. Mike (my roommate) and I then buried him in one of plants on the patio. He will live on through the plant that is now aptly named Quentin. See you in CT, which is currently being barraged with snow. Glorious.

Details

Wow, it has been two months since I posted last. I hope that gives you an indication of what the teaching world has been like so far. Yet, here on the quintessential lazy Sunday, I feel the nerve to do not much of anything, and be guilty for it too.

I left you with a summarizing of my trip over the summer. Now, as epic as that trip was, it was captured in many photos, maybe not reducing the need to relive it though words, but for time constraints and the mere elapse of time, many an event has taken place since August 15th.

The trip, to circumnavigate detail, was awesome. I saw a lot of this country and the areas that it is trying to preserve, that being much of the west and the country's national parks. Hoping along though central New York, around (and into) the Great Lakes then making a quick stop in good ole' Green Bay. From there, busting through Wisconsin, making an epic stop in Minneapolis for one night only, and then crashing into the Bad Lands of South Dakota at twilight was unforgettable, not to mention the lightning storm I was caught in camping out in the open prairie. I awoke in a dazed fury, hit in the face by rain and threw the tent in the front of my car, and before the wind blew me over, I crawled into the back seat and slept...uncomfortably.

From there, it was a national park parade. Badlands to the Crazy Horse monument, which was actually crazy...no really, look it up. Then onto the town of Deadwood, S.D. where I met some very lovely and accommodating ladies (I'll leave your thoughts to your thoughts, though all was kosher, I promise). After paying my respects to Wild Bill and Calamity Jane, though I stayed in there preferred hotel room (Where they got on their....business time) that evening, I moved onto Mt. Rushmore...wahoo.. and then over to wind cave national park, which is 150 or so miles of underground tunnel wahoo!! for reals.

After emerging from the cold caverns of the Earth, and then should have been gorged by a Buffalo, I cruised through southeastern Wyoming (where I saw a sign for a town with a population of...1), to then rolling into Rocky Mountain National Park where the Alpine Tundra be, with some sweet elk. Then onto Colorado National Monument, which was a smaller, more beautiful Grand Canyon-esque. Black Canyon of the Gunnison, which is just a sheer gash into the Earth of sheer glory. Stayed there for the evening, cruised on over to 4 corners, which is a plaque in the ground, and then through Payson and into my humble abode in Phoenix.

There is a certain element to pushing things off, in that sometimes, not all the time, they lose their inherent quality, much like the journey I took. But, it is also hard to clearly encapsulate an extensive experience as a whole...it must be broken down into it's individual parts and explored in detail.

At this point, I'm going to try and choose one thing, and go into the grandest of detail of it, regardless of all that takes place in life. I notice that I try to get it all, which severely depletes the value of what I'm talking about, which is basically the reason why I started doing this thing. And I guess that is something that can be said for life as well; try not to do it all at once. Do what you can when you can, but if you try and take it all on at once, it gets overwhelming, dilutes in value, and nothing is truly taken away from it. Besides, as I have taught my students, being vague and too general sucks. Details, details details.


Oh yeah, and watch out for this guy!

I have unsheathed my teaching sword and I declare a joust! to the grimly beast that shall be titled middle school. I vow to slay thee to experience what unholy pains may come from one who can sew together the torn innards of this vast lands achievement gap! I have come for thee fair maiden of 80%, nay, 100% mastery!, and not even the state superintendent Lord Horne may deter my crusade. I may travel from afar, but my gallant fellow swordsmen are the best of the land and I say to thee I shall lay you down to rest, and I promise you this, there will be no child left behind.

I wanted to see if I could translate the start of the second year of Teach For America into Medevil terms. Not too bad I think.

It has been a long time since I have last posted, and to that person who probably accidentally stumbled upon this blog while looking for the Andrew Bernier who is a fantastic artist based in Milwaukee, qualifying him as the only other person to have probably looked at this, I apologize for the delay in writing.

I've been in Phoenix for four weeks now, and the start of the year has been nuts, but tenfold better than last year. Though, I would like to give a righteous middle finger salute to all those who told me I needed to get a new finger print card, when in fact I didn't. I would like my $72 dollars back. Does putting a money sign and writing out dollars qualify as redundant?


But before this teaching jazz (which I'm sure will become the bane of my existence for all upcoming posts), was one of the highlights of my life; my road trip. My last post reflected the beginnings of the trip, but the meats and many potatoes were not covered. I will write about it, and/or you could look at one of the 1,500+ pictures I took (I think that is why I held out on getting a camera for so long, knowing that I am a picture taking whore...word choice?).

I departed that couch in Ithaca and ventured west to Watkins Glen and visited the actual Glen. The walk was a visual delight and it was the absolute antithesis of Phoenix. Green, water, lush; pure glory. It was a healthy trek through a fantastic gorge, one that I have to agree with on most; it is better than what Ithaca offers, but the city still blows Watkins Glen out of the water...except for the Roosterfish Brewery. Damn that nut brown is a delight. I met up with my friend Paige and her all very welcoming family and stayed in their camper for the evening. For a conversation that was comprised of some college kids and some middle agers, I was pleasantly surprised by how comfortingly dirty it was...and I think Paige's mom was trying to get me a little drunk. A wonderful woman indeed.

After breakfast the next morning, I embarked to....that's the thing. After Watkins Glen, there was no plan. I just started kinda heading west, well, northwest really. There was a bustling metropolis with high economic potential by the name of Buffalo that I decided to go through and enter the vast wilderness of Southern Ontario. I thought, well, I have 10 days or so to do whatever the hell I want, soooooooo lets go up to Canada and venture round the great lakes. The drive took me past Toronto (took that photo while driving, dangerous as all hell, but pretty impressive none the less) and decided to camp out on the Georgian Bay, the other big part of Lake Huron. As I rolled into a provincial park near the settlement of Killarney, I realized that I really didn't have any of my camping equipment ready to go. It took me over an hour to get the back of my car together and my backpack ready to go to venture into the Canadian woods. It was already very dark, but by gosh, I was going into the thicket. I hiked to the point where I really couldn't see that far in front of me anymore, but luckily found a large, thick patch of moss on an embedded boulder. The mosquitoes were horrific, and I attacked them with reckless abandon inside my little tent confines.

I finally got to sleep, but had opted not to apply the tent fly. But of course there was a faint rail falling a few hours into the night. I zipped out and frantically searched for my fly (that is the tent covering, not the metal strip in front of my crotch) while swatting away thirsty mosquitoes, all while in a deadening sleep daze. This late night frantic was stopped suddenly when I realized I was in the middle of the woods in Canada, a country that opted not to kill off all its wolves and bears over the past two centuries. From that, I just got myself and my fly together as calm as I could, endured some mosquito love, and went back to bed. Granted the sleep wasn't the greatest (though it shouldn't be while camping) the morning was one of great reward and renewal, as it was my first night waking up in a place that I never heard of nor thought I would ever be.

I realize that an 11 day trip would be hard to summarize in a single blog post, so I suppose I'll do this thang a few more times, than start up the bane of my existence posts regarding teaching. Hmm, the sun isn't scorching the outside anymore today. Bike ride?...I think so.

Road

I don't quite know what is going to happen next.

Well, I'm going to get food, I know that.

But then after that, I don't know what is going to happen next.

I am about to leave Ithaca, and the changes are happening to this city. They put in an Urban Outfitters?! Squeeze me? Pardon? Really? Wowza. Not to mention the new buildings on the the Ithaca campus. I really enjoy the absolute mish-mash of buildings they have there; some concrete, some brick, some glass, some trailer, and now two spaceships. Pretty L.E.E.D. certified spaceships.

Even though this blog thing never really has taken off, and I'm not sure where it is going, I'm glad that you have decided to stumble upon this and keep up to this point.

My birthday was a few days ago, and all turning 24 means is that you are certifiably in your mid twenties. 23 had some gray area to it, but 24 is not a joker. Oh hell no. I wonder how confused I will be when I turn 27.

I was really hoping to not have to summarize a summer in a couple of sentences, but I think I will blip things now so that I may elaborate later, which I'm sure won't even happen. This summer has been full of travel and happen-stance. Grandfather passing away, my car passing away, trips to D.C., Colorado, Iowa, the straight, 23 hour drive back home from Iowa, Acadia national park in Maine and Lake Winnepasauke in N.H. with my girlfriend/partner in crime Tacey. The purchasing of my new wheels, Leon, who is a geezer. Hanging with all of my Simsbury cohorts, which is always a fantastic pleasure, or even fantastically pleasuring. Tacey coming to Simsbury. Travels to Rhode Island for my wife Laurel and then to Quincy (Boston) for my BFF Bobbielee.

In these travels though, all being rich in local and shared experience, I do burn the fossil fuels to see those of whom I care deeply. The people very much shape the expereince, I am glad that I was able to see many. There are some of who I was not able to see this break, much like my friend Leslie, whom I have not seen or heard from in over 9 years. Amazing the power of that other online demon facebook. I did happen to see a lot of people on this trip, and some of which I really didn't expect to see.

But now I am goign to embark on a 8 day journey of I don't know and with no one in sight, though there will be many in mind. Having that time to one self to just go and get lost is damn near necessary, especially when it comes to preserving the relationships that we have. It allows us to better acquaint us with ourselves, which can then further develop how we interact with others. I hope that you do give time to be by yourself, since all others can benefit with you knowing exactly who you are.

Did that sound like something hallmark would write? I hope not. Screw hallmark.

I like roulette, but only when Mark Hejduk is by my side. Red, even, black, etc. Though I still think that Foxwoods casino is still a terrible place (where I started my birthday). It was really sad to see severely obese people sitting at a slot machine at 1:45 a.m. just pumping money into it. How do we as humans get to a point like that, not to mention allow something like that to happen? Free will can be a bitch sometimes.

Aight, this has been nonsensical, much like this summer. The will to survive by consuming food is starting to take precedence over writing, so until where ever the hell I end up, just hope ole' Leon can make it through.

Oh yeah, and watch out for this guy!!

Eulogy

It has been a whirlwind since I got home. I did happen to see my grandfather two days before his death. It was a good tiem seeing him, as he was still in his wily high spirts. I was asked to speak at the funeral, so I thought I would share those words, reflecting my experience with grandpa, my last grandparent.


8th grade. With my elbows on the desk, I brought my head down and pressed my forehead into my palms. I’m starring at the just returned test in front of me, with a big, glaring F on it. I looked around the room to find that other students were bragging to each other about their grades; I continued to silently sulk over this catastrophe of academic showmanship. I thought to myself, “How am I failing this miserably at French? I think it might be generous to assume that maybe one other person in this classroom has any family member whose native language is French, yet I have a grandfather who’s first language is French and the only phrase that I can say confidently is je ne sais pas, translation: I don’t know.” Throw in a last name like Bernie’, I stared back down at my F and pondered the irony of the situation.
Traveling to grandpas, I recall getting excited to try and communicate the little bit of French that I had picked up from class. My father, siblings and I would pull into the driveway, get out of the car, collect our blankets and pillows and bombard our way through the door. Grandpa would always greet me with a firm handshake. As I would get older the firmness of my grip would improve, and then after a few classes in French in my back pocket, I would add a “Bonjour Grandpere” to that handshake. I didn’t realize that would release a torrent of French from his mouth. As he would wrap up his statement that I’m sure was covered in the 3rd class of the year, my eyes would widen, and jaw would drop as I would search my infant French vocabulary for a response. “Uhhh….je ne sais pas.” He would let out a laugh and let me in. I think that the only thing I found more confusing than when grandpa tried to teach me a little bit of French was the first time he tried to teach me how to play cribbage.
Walking into grandpa’s house always seemed “just right,” and by that I mean there was always an extravagant amount of golf knick-knacks scattered through the house, candlepin bowling was on the television (I still can’t believe that sport is televised), a cribbage board ready to go, and the refrigerator was always stocked with Moxie soda. For those of you who have not had the distinct pleasure of enjoying a cold can of moxie, imagine cough syrup and licorice together and then carbonated. I remember drinking a full glass of Moxie without wincing and thinking that it was some coming of age. Grandpa’s house was certainly not tailored to the entertainment of three young kids, but it was something special to be in his environment for a while and enjoy those things that I couldn’t find anywhere else.
But besides gramp’s house and absolutely huge yard (where my siblings and I would tee-off and drive golf balls as far as we could), it was always about being with grandpa. The conversations we had were about anything and everything, but usually ranging from who my sister was dating at the time to who grandpa had a date with that night. I was always impressed with how much his phone rang. But if there was something that will always stick with me about grandpa, it would have to be his ability to keep cranking out jokes. He was continuously keeping me chuckling with some off the cuff remark and sometimes repeated one-liner. Even up to the very end of his life while he stayed in bed, we were moving the sheets to make him more comfortable and somebody mentioned “hang in there grandpa,” and of course grandpa snuck in there “why can’t we just hang out?” I let out a boisterous laugh which grandpa responded, “well, Andrew is here.”
With mentioning grandpa’s state towards the end of his tremendous life, I do want to give thanks and a deep appreciation to Aunt Elise and Uncle Bill, who have made countless sacrifices to ensure that the end of grandpa’s long journey was as comfortable and caring as possible. I know that it meant the world to grandpa to be around family and to be cared for by the ones who love him. I cannot possibly conceive grandpa to have received the care, attention and nurturing that Aunt Elise and Uncle Bill provided him anywhere else, and to that we all thank you so much.
Not many people can say that they have been able to live such an extensive and active life as grandpa, being an icon in a community that he watched first-hand grow into what it is today. He showed characteristics that I continuously try to emulate and carried out a genetic longevity that I’m sure many of us hope to have inherited; a longevity which gave grandpa the chance to see four generations of his making, an extremely rare opportunity which I’m sure was a perfect capstone to a long and rich life. So grandpa, I love you so much and thank you for being the influence you were on all of our lives. I hope now that you are in a place where the cribbage board is always on the table and the moxie is always cold.

Grandpa

So, I am about to embark on a mad dash across the country from Denver to good ole' Simsbury. Some 2,000 miles. Reason being is that my grandfather is dying up in Northern New Hampshire. He is 97, to say the least has had a long life. I tried to talk to him the other day, but it was difficult. He was just saying that he was confused about what was going on and that he didn't remember things to the questions that I was asking him. Eventually he said that it was best if he went. Not much I can say to that really. I was very much at a loss for words. My Aunt is throwing him a party and is expecting the whole family (he is at the top of 4 living, maybe 5, generations) to come to her house where he is staying. It is at noon on Saturday. It will be early morning Thursday when I leave Colorado. He asked me to come see him. I'm going to do my damn best. Hold in there Grandpa.

I am though leaving a grand week in Colorado, full of Uncle Todd, bikerides, suds, conversation and the glorious Rockey Mountains. I'll get to that soon, though if I am going to make a productive drive tomorrow, I am going to need some sleep.

Andrew

D.C.'d!

Noted: Washington D.C. never fails to impress. Never. Ever.

On a very whimsical 400+ dollar purchase, I decided to take the absolute first 5 days of my summer vacation / TFA time-out and spend it in the other city that I had placed as my top choice, along with Phoenix. It so happened to be that one of my very good friends, former roommate and longtime fellow pillager of livers Alex Moore was holding himself a going away party as he was graduating the likes of Georgetown U.

To start, I almost missed the flight and finally crashed the gate of my flight about 9 minutes before taking off. Literally squeezing onto it, I trekked the country airborne and made it to the final destination. It was nice seeing the capitol flying in. The most immediate act was to secure food, which eventually came in the form of a cheese steak from an Asian restaurant near the metro stop.

A welcoming crew was sent to retrieve me composed of some of my favorite I.C.er's Abie, Bevin, Jack, Ally and the ever gracious DTM. The party proved to be as disastrous as advertized with and eventual tackle - takedown from Alex, who I'm sure could only make me out by my blond hair and perpetual flannel (I seriously doubt his ability to identify fine details at this point). Regardless, I caught the shindig at the tail end and didn't get too involved in the imbibing, thought the cheesesteak and catching up with several other I.C.er's such as Big Chris, Amanda, Anna, Ram, Winski, Casey Brown and others was joyous. And watching Alex actually die after trying to tackle me again but only slamming his genitals into a railing also proved to be plenty worth the plane ticket.

The rest of the trip also proved to be solid, with all of Saturday being dedicated to Mimosas and running amock in Adam's Morgan with many of the above names. Sunday was a sad one to start, as I saw off many of the guys and was then left on my own with a backpack and suitcase in the middle of D.C. It was a cool feeling. I got ahold of my friend Bri who lives in the area and we made it over to the International Spy museam which was mega sweet. It was almost like being in the temple from "Legends of the Hidden Temple" as the first part of the place was pretty much a puzzle for every room, though our group didn’t do so well, and I'm pretty sure that our guide was very hung-over, not unlike myself (DOUBLE NEGATIVE KIDS!!!), that one is for my students, who always use them, and hope never, ever read this.

Monday was Abie day, and an Abie day is always going to be one of the most glorious days that ever be. That was the real touristy day, where we checked out the inside of the capitol, saw the national archives (the constitution up-close is a rather commanding parchment), checked out the statue garden on the mall and got ourselves some chow in Foggy bottom (tehe). *Note: As I compose this on the plane, someone is unleashing a fury of flatulence, and I sit next to the window trapped, sickened and impressed.*

Which brings us to today. Besides my consistent late starts to the day (I think I am still catching up on sleep), I was able to scramble over to the newly renovated Smithsonian for American history. It was sweet, though I was only able to view about half of it. Then, metro-ing over to VA for my last goodbye of the trip over lunch with my friend Bri, and then off to the airport, to sit near the farty guy.

Thanks to all those who were apart of the trip. It was soo needed to get some IC blood around me and I will always be grateful for those friends and the fact that I've been nonexistent in the desert for a year now, and I can still come back and rock it with some of the finest people that I have ever met, and damn proud to call my friends.

In closing, major props to two of my best friends; Amanda Butts and the Washington Metro system. Amanda was a very fine host and answered the question of "where am I sleeping" which is one that should generally be answered before embarking on a trip like this, and if the metro system were a woman, I would take it on a very nice steak dinner....I love you.

Aight homies, I have no idea what lies beyond for the summer time. With only a very few amount of obligations, the plan is to get lost park by park across this country. Pictures depend on if I get a camera and messages depend on if I get a car charger, because I am going get as far away from Phoenix as I can. Til' next time, I'll be kickin' it with the farty guy.

Andrew

Memorial Day

Fancy how this day was established to those who gave their lives for this here country. Yet I have decided to spend it by cleaning the scum that was forming under the rim of my toilet and that awkward space around the fake platinum faucet of my bathroom sink.

Think of all the bacteria that gave their lives today in my bathroom for that there...bacterial colony?

Regardless, today is the final installment of the three day weekend. In not to long I am to shuffle off to a BarbBQ / housewarming party, and tomorrow will be the first installment of the final three days of my first year of teaching. Yet, all I can think about right now is the massive collection of dust that hangs atop the blades of my bedroom ceiling fan. Maybe part of the colony lives there. I'll give them a Memorial day to remember.

I do beg your pardon (to the .73 people who might actually read this) about the delay in writing about nothing in particular, but maybe it does give an indication about the teacher side of the end of the school year. WAY MORE CRAZY THAN THE STUDENT SIDE. It is pretty hilarious though how this past Thursday I had my students go all out for their science fair project, seeing them stress out, write the longest reports (well, any actual document) of their entire lives, create these elaborate powerPoints, poster boards, projects and even videos, and I just sat there and mused over some ASU work and other things to catch up on. Well, at least when I was a student it wasn't all too bad, I just like to make sure that my students are going to catch a break come the end of the year. Builds character for a 7th grader, or something like that.

My bird feeder is doing FANTASTIC, though there is now little white spots all over my patio.

As of now it looks like I will be shifting from 7th grade science and language arts to 7th and 8th grade science, as I will be the science teacher at my school next year. To complement, I am hoping on an ASU fellowship this year that will allow me to focus on creating curriculum for sustainable systems, which would be sawheet, though this is so far PLAN D for the summer as of yet, and don't rest all my hopes on getting it. I did splurge some $400 on camping gear to go back backing in parks across the country, which was actually plan C. Any thoughts for a plan E? Let's just make one up for Z while we're at it. I do ultimatly want to go to Antartica.

Well, I think I am going to go develop an underwater camera now. I took some pictars at Discovery Cove in Orlando a little less than a month ago, where I SWAM WITH DOLPHINS. Touristy to the max, but I had to spend my tax rebate check somehow.

Your Impact

This is one of my best efforts, and it was done as a volunteer hobby when I was working three jobs and running an improv troupe. It was good.

http://www.ithaca.edu/icview/3895/

And here is the shows site: www.myspace.com/yourimpactshow

Maybe I'll post the audio files at somepoint.

SOFTBALL!!! I WANT TO PLAY SOFTBALL!!!

David Prunty is a man who knows what he likes. And this man likes his softball. I attribute any and all credit to him when I get excited to play softball, which is somewhat, though, this is most possibly his pure existence as to work at Ithaca College in the summer time.

How did David Prunty make it into my second post on this thing?

Anyway, I was in a softball tournament today with my school (Sine Elementary) team. Misfits. Bad news bears. The Pittsburgh Pirates; teams or collections of peoples that are generally doomed for failure in baseball/softball athletic competition. Though, we banded together and had ourselves a day in the most intensity slow pitch softball can muster.

It was played in a tournament style, and out of 16 teams, we lost in the final four and walked away with a co-third place trophy? Co-third place? Here, have half of a bronze. But not to whine (I just think the concept of co-third is amusing), it was a lot of fun, and I hit a couple of homeruns and had a butt-ton (button?) of RBIs. And my defensive capabilities are spectacular, even though the glove that I have had since 6th grade is tearing in half. And my batting glove tore and my finger pokes through the tip now.

But, what is alarming is how this was apart of a wellenss fair for the whole Gelndale Elementary School District, and since I walked a bunch and wore a pedometer in a prior district challenge, they gave me a $25.00 camelback thing. And there were hundreds of these things, and water bottles and yoga mats and wiis and ipod nanos and something else that was shinny.

Though the district is cutting the budget, not buying textbooks and cutting our salaries.

But four dips are getting wiis?

If for whatever reason you start reading this and I don't know you, or you don't know me, I'll introduce myself in the next post.

I need to go grade forever now.

Probably should be working on ASU work right now.

The title is pretty self explanatory. Though I will be shuffling off to the Four Peaks Brewery in just a hot moment. I wonder if I will actually keep up with this thing? ASU work = that famous action or motion that results in some from one time wrestler slamming his arms, outstretched and crossed to form an "x", with the bottom open portion (his hands) on both sides of his genitalia area, with the high-volume decree of "suck it!" emitted while performing said motion.