Welcome to Mr. Joseph Hardy's Website at MHS

Picture Mr. Joseph Hardy
  • Please note that this website remains a work in progress.

    New content will be added periodically so please check back often.

     

     

    Contact Information:

    Email: hardy.joseph@westada.org

    Phone: (208) 350-4560

  • Greetings visitor,

     

         I am Mr. Hardy, Social Studies and Spanish teacher extraordinaire. Good job finding me! I am not an easy man to track down. In fact, I am only posting this tidbit here because, well… I have to. If you are indeed here and actually reading this, I figure you are most likely a Chinese spy trying to steal my identity. Do that if you wish, but I assure you will find little of benefit other than simple pocket change and lint. If in the random event you are not a Chinese spy, I suspect you are a paraprofessional looking for my slides. No need to read on, just click one of the links to the left and be on your way. And don’t tell me you are a student because we know that just ain’t happinin’ right?

         What? You’re still here? Well, in the super random circumstance that you are actually interested in reading who I am, I suppose I had better create a list of a few facts. Please note that these facts are not your typical facts and figures, because who cares to read about degrees and credentials, blah blah blah, right? How about some real facts and figures! How about a few things that really matter, ehh? If you are reading this, you might as well get some entertainment value so here we go!

    Fun Fact #1: The luckiest day of my life.

         I grew up on a dairy farm in Northern Utah. On weekends I would give my dad a chance to sleep in by taking over the morning milking. I would spend those wee early hours in the milk barn dreaming of the money I would earn, and how I would spend it all on my girlfriend. It was the only thing that got me out of bed in the morning. One harsh winter I was especially impatient with the cows and goaded them something fierce to get inside the barn. I wanted nothing more than to shelter myself from the bitter cold as soon as possible. There was one heifer who was not keen on my abuse. As I poked and prodded she reared up in malice and kicked me nigh to a place that is dear to all men. As I looked down numb with fear I found that she had missed that mark she had inclined herself to hit. A smile split my face from ear to ear as I knew I had dodged the greatest bullet ever fired my way.

    Fun Fact #2: The stupidest thing I ever did.

         Ahh, scout camp. Summer of 93 [give or take]. I was not much of a scout. There were few things that Scouting could teach me that the farm hadn’t already, but there I was. Forced to spend a week of my life learning to tie knots, climb mountains and row a boat. One of the requirements expected of us was to keep a neat and tidy camp. Every morning camp leaders would arrive and inspect our campsite. There was a fifty-gallon fire barrel full of water to put out campfires. We didn’t know that however, and we tossed our trash into it each day. Well, on camp inspection we were berated for our ignorance as the leaders cleaned it out and scolded us. Why they cleaned it out rather than us baffles me to this day. Days went past and each morning they found scraps of paper and garbage in our camp despite all our efforts. Discouraged that we would never earn a perfect score, we abandoned hope for mayhem. Knowing the camp host would reach into the fire barrel, we tossed into its depths the worst garbage we could find. Then, I had an epiphany. I crawled atop the barrel, dropped my pants and returned all the horrible scout camp food one subtle thrust. Sure enough, the next day the unsuspecting camp host plunged his hand into the barrel once again to collect our garbage. Only what he found was not the soggy snickers bar he had assumed. Needless to say, my days at scout camp were over.

     Fun Fact #3: Greatest accolade.

         Sure, I could talk about degrees here and I probably should. Making it through college is no easy task. The reward at the end, hard earned, and something I am very proud of. However, I accomplished different sort of feat many years earlier that sometimes causes equal feelings of pride and accomplishment. It started in my parent’s basement, a place where most great ideas meet their genesis. For it was there, nestled amongst a ball of cables, discarded food wrappers, and dirty clothes that my Nintendo Entertainment System made its home. Long hours were spent at its controls in the attempt of attaining the highest of scores and mastering the most difficult of video games. On a nearby bookshelf rested tomes of Nintendo Power Magazines to aid my pursuits. I would pour over the wisdom found therein during the quiet hours of the night, when everyone else in my family was fast asleep. While they slumbered I stayed awake and read the great accomplishments of video gamers from around the globe. I wanted to be included with the best so I set my sights. Following years of playing, and letter after letter sent mail to Nintendo of America my day arrived! After mowing the lawn on a hot summer day I headed to the mailbox and found the latest copy of Nintendo Power Magazine, Volume 26. I quickly scanned its pages and found, at long last, my name listed with world’s finest. I had made it, I was a celebrity! Or at least I thought.

         So, there you have it! Three odds and ends that detail who I am better than any degree right? Well, that’s if you took the time to read, which you probably didn’t.