Overthunk

Recently I was at a technological staff development session, which is a fancy name for teachers being taught. In our day, teachers were sage repositories into which we inserted a coin marked with our name, grade and age and received a preformulated serving of knowledge, encapsulated in a cylindrical package. We were to drink of this can, forged of the strong steel of tradition, stamped with dates and vitamins and things that were surely good for us. Some of us drank this draught deeply and wanted more, some played with the can so it got dented, some spilled it entirely, and if you did, you were out of luck. It was your fault you flunked, even if you were allergic to the contents of the can, even if it was spoiled, even if you couldn’t bear the taste. Nowadays, teaching isn’t about what the teacher is presenting, but about what the students learn. It doesn’t matter if your lesson is phenomenal, if no one you’re teaching understands it. Instead of a processed beverage of knowledge, toda...

for Charles Bukowski At a "professional" "development" day of exceeding boredom I had a few moments of blessed solitude I walked much farther away than required to relieve myself Alone in the stall I huddled Away from lines In blessed quiet, I sat Meditatively on the black enamel seat. "HEY ROY!" some entering professional female cried Her braying bouncing off the tile. "IF YOU HEAR ME GO 'PHHHBBBFFPHHHTTT!!!' YOU'LL KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!! IF YOU DON'T, YOU'LL KNOW I'M JUST PEEING!!!" she hollered to the "empty" bathroom. At the same time as this, I, of necessity, blew my nose. "OH MY GOD, ROY!" she went on. "THERE'S SOMEONE IN HERE AND THEY HEARD ME SAY THAT! I'M GOING IN ANYWAY!" she uttered, proceeding to the seat to make the aforementioned noises. Outside, Roy, a forty-eight-something man clad in t-shirt and trucker hat, cornered me. "How's it going?" he said, push...

and I have been recruited to assist with the business of running it, as well as teach my regular class. That is all for now, though I can hardly stand the necessity of sleep over blogging.... See your stuff soon, peeps!

This isn't exactly it but today in Spencer's Gifts I saw this hobo purse with a large, uhh, bead? attached to the front that was actually brass (well, aluminum) knuckles. This one is far more fashionable and expensive and made by James Piatt, who dubs it the "Peacekeeper." Hmm. I'm not sure that peace is what you're gearing up for when you carry this. Nonetheless, it is rather cool and kind of brings up a subject near and dear to me, which is, carrying some form of weaponry on one's person at all times. As a teenager, I had a double-edged dagger with a blade of about three inches, a brass crosspiece, and a hilt of stacked wood in rainbow hues. It was illegal due to having a double edge, but it looked cool. (Hey, tell the dollar store guy I got it from. Yes, dollar store.) I carried it with me everywhere, either in my purse or in my pocket, to school, to Ozzy Osbourne concerts, everywhere. I don't know why, but having it made me feel better. It was the ...

(third graders, that is) These are the new lunch policies, from now until THE END OF THE YEAR: 1) Don't ask for anyone else's food at lunch. 2) Don't give anyone else food at lunch. 3) If someone else gives you food at lunch, don't eat it. 4) Henceforth, if you DO eat six pieces of cake, OR drink six cartons of juice, or the like, and then throw up, guess who's NOT going to the nurse? Violate these policies and you will be taking the bowling field trip, field day, and the end of the year party into your own hands. Yep, it's seventeen days 'til summer, alright.