Monday, January 31, 2005
Stand back...I'm a professional. (or am I?)
So the other night I was at a friend's birthday party. Unlike most of my social get-togethers since I entered the teaching profession, the majority of the people at this party were not fellow educators. Perhaps this merely serves to demonstrate how very cloistered my life has become. In any case, as we feasted on buffalo wings and extra spicy popcorn, conversations sprung up and unsurprisingly, the topic of teaching arose. One of the guests was considering a career in teaching, and she had some interesting questions about what it was like to teach in an inner city school. (The answers to those questions were as follows: No, No, Yes, inconsistency on the administration's part, middle school, and it's enough to live on.)
Later on, there were assorted entertainments, including two packets worth of quiz bowl, with guests divided a la The Apprentice into book smart and street smart teams. In contrast to the TV show however, book smarts (the team on which I played) made its commanding presence known! Pop culture? Academic? It was all good. And of course as this was a party, the taunting was like the old story about the boy scout camping trip, i.e. intense! It was after one such jibe on my part that the party's host jokingly asked how many people in the room were not underemployed. I raised my hand along with all the other lawyers and lawyers in training, only to learn that as a high school teacher with an Ivy League education, I was intended to be among the ranks of the underemployed. I was annoyed at this characterization, although in retrospect, I can understand how it might make sense. After all, I went to a good school and rather than entering a more lucrative field like law, business, or medicine, I chose to be a teacher. Two roads diverging in the yellow wood, and all that jazz.
Now all jobs have their positive and negative sides, and despite the tendency of this blog to focus on the latter for comedic effect, the same can be said for teaching. One major downside of teaching is that so few people recognize educators as professionals, who have undergone serious training and willingly subject themselves to some of the more stressful and exhausting environs out there on a daily basis five times each week. Instead, people at the higher levels of administration tend to see teachers as mere cogs in an educational machine intended to churn out graduates regardless of actual knowledge or passing grades. Shoddy treatment from above leads in turn to disaffected and apathetic teachers forced to dig through the rubble of their shattered ideals in the hopes of creating lessons that might reach one student instead of a whole class. And this frustration is only compounded when the general public reinforces this perceived lack of importance. Where is the prestige of being an educator? If someone says they are a lawyer or a doctor, that carries a level of respect. But teachers, without whom there would be neither lawyers or doctors, or at the very least competent ones, are considered "underemployed."
The blame for this general perception is partly based on a natural tendency to judge success materially, when in point of fact, there is more to life than money...or so I have read. Maybe my example, as put forth on this webpage, is not the best, but I know there are veteran teachers out there, people with 20 years of teaching experience, who love their jobs and excel at them. And that these people should not be considered the professional equals of any of the aforementioned fields is something of a sad travesty.
So do I feel underemployed? Quite the contrary, if anything I feel overemployed...my job takes up far more of my time than I ever expected going into it. It is possible that this is merely a consequence of Parkinson's Law ("Work expands to fit the time allotted), but I feel it is more likely a combination of factors. For me the biggest one involves a quest for self-improvement. In order to maintain a level of professionalism, hard work is required both inside and outside the workplace, and if I ever hope to be viewed as a professional by non-educators, I feel it only necessary to put in more time. In other words, if I put in the amount of work that people expect from a professional, it is more likely I will be viewed as one. And perhaps I'll believe that in truth I am a professional and not just an overpaid babysitter.
Or so one might hope...
So the other night I was at a friend's birthday party. Unlike most of my social get-togethers since I entered the teaching profession, the majority of the people at this party were not fellow educators. Perhaps this merely serves to demonstrate how very cloistered my life has become. In any case, as we feasted on buffalo wings and extra spicy popcorn, conversations sprung up and unsurprisingly, the topic of teaching arose. One of the guests was considering a career in teaching, and she had some interesting questions about what it was like to teach in an inner city school. (The answers to those questions were as follows: No, No, Yes, inconsistency on the administration's part, middle school, and it's enough to live on.)
Later on, there were assorted entertainments, including two packets worth of quiz bowl, with guests divided a la The Apprentice into book smart and street smart teams. In contrast to the TV show however, book smarts (the team on which I played) made its commanding presence known! Pop culture? Academic? It was all good. And of course as this was a party, the taunting was like the old story about the boy scout camping trip, i.e. intense! It was after one such jibe on my part that the party's host jokingly asked how many people in the room were not underemployed. I raised my hand along with all the other lawyers and lawyers in training, only to learn that as a high school teacher with an Ivy League education, I was intended to be among the ranks of the underemployed. I was annoyed at this characterization, although in retrospect, I can understand how it might make sense. After all, I went to a good school and rather than entering a more lucrative field like law, business, or medicine, I chose to be a teacher. Two roads diverging in the yellow wood, and all that jazz.
Now all jobs have their positive and negative sides, and despite the tendency of this blog to focus on the latter for comedic effect, the same can be said for teaching. One major downside of teaching is that so few people recognize educators as professionals, who have undergone serious training and willingly subject themselves to some of the more stressful and exhausting environs out there on a daily basis five times each week. Instead, people at the higher levels of administration tend to see teachers as mere cogs in an educational machine intended to churn out graduates regardless of actual knowledge or passing grades. Shoddy treatment from above leads in turn to disaffected and apathetic teachers forced to dig through the rubble of their shattered ideals in the hopes of creating lessons that might reach one student instead of a whole class. And this frustration is only compounded when the general public reinforces this perceived lack of importance. Where is the prestige of being an educator? If someone says they are a lawyer or a doctor, that carries a level of respect. But teachers, without whom there would be neither lawyers or doctors, or at the very least competent ones, are considered "underemployed."
The blame for this general perception is partly based on a natural tendency to judge success materially, when in point of fact, there is more to life than money...or so I have read. Maybe my example, as put forth on this webpage, is not the best, but I know there are veteran teachers out there, people with 20 years of teaching experience, who love their jobs and excel at them. And that these people should not be considered the professional equals of any of the aforementioned fields is something of a sad travesty.
So do I feel underemployed? Quite the contrary, if anything I feel overemployed...my job takes up far more of my time than I ever expected going into it. It is possible that this is merely a consequence of Parkinson's Law ("Work expands to fit the time allotted), but I feel it is more likely a combination of factors. For me the biggest one involves a quest for self-improvement. In order to maintain a level of professionalism, hard work is required both inside and outside the workplace, and if I ever hope to be viewed as a professional by non-educators, I feel it only necessary to put in more time. In other words, if I put in the amount of work that people expect from a professional, it is more likely I will be viewed as one. And perhaps I'll believe that in truth I am a professional and not just an overpaid babysitter.
Or so one might hope...
Sunday, January 30, 2005
"Better get used to that letter, young lady..."
So the other day I had to given the district mandated benchmark test. The idea is to make sure the students and teachers are keeping pace with the core curriculum. When many students did not bring the number 2 pencils needed to complete the exam, I decided upon an alternate strategem to just giving them the missing writing utensils.
"Take out a piece of lined paper and write down your answers in pen," I told them. "When you have finished, you can borrow another person's pencil and fill in your answer sheet."
All well and good, except some people didn't finish until after the bell had rung. So of course, they just turned in their paper and bustled off to class leaving the task of filling in the bubbles to me. The test was a simple multiple choice affair, choices labeled a, b, c, and d.
Which is why this one girl's paper made me so concerned. The "A or B" on question #7 was one thing. But the fact that question #1 was answered F...well, I have a feeling that she'll be seeing a lot more of that letter in the future.
So the other day I had to given the district mandated benchmark test. The idea is to make sure the students and teachers are keeping pace with the core curriculum. When many students did not bring the number 2 pencils needed to complete the exam, I decided upon an alternate strategem to just giving them the missing writing utensils.
"Take out a piece of lined paper and write down your answers in pen," I told them. "When you have finished, you can borrow another person's pencil and fill in your answer sheet."
All well and good, except some people didn't finish until after the bell had rung. So of course, they just turned in their paper and bustled off to class leaving the task of filling in the bubbles to me. The test was a simple multiple choice affair, choices labeled a, b, c, and d.
Which is why this one girl's paper made me so concerned. The "A or B" on question #7 was one thing. But the fact that question #1 was answered F...well, I have a feeling that she'll be seeing a lot more of that letter in the future.
Saturday, January 29, 2005
Paging Señor Newton
Overheard in class during a discussion of the life and times of Isaac Newton:
"Principia Mathematica...that's Spanish, right?"
Overheard in class during a discussion of the life and times of Isaac Newton:
"Principia Mathematica...that's Spanish, right?"
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
Snow Day Extravaganza: Part III, Epilogue
Technically, this post has been misnamed because today is not a snow day. That's right. A mere half hour from now I'll be in my all too cold car driving to Underwood. Hopefully they'll have plowed the staff parking lot, though given the condition on roads last night, I sincerely doubt that. The school district, in its infinite wisdom preordained that regardless of unplowed sidestreets and persistently cold weather, the schools would be open today. So I did not wake up with any hope. I already knew my fate was sealed and back to the classroom I'll go.
Does this mean that my students will show up? No. Except the annoying ones.
But of course you already know the answer to that.
Technically, this post has been misnamed because today is not a snow day. That's right. A mere half hour from now I'll be in my all too cold car driving to Underwood. Hopefully they'll have plowed the staff parking lot, though given the condition on roads last night, I sincerely doubt that. The school district, in its infinite wisdom preordained that regardless of unplowed sidestreets and persistently cold weather, the schools would be open today. So I did not wake up with any hope. I already knew my fate was sealed and back to the classroom I'll go.
Does this mean that my students will show up? No. Except the annoying ones.
But of course you already know the answer to that.
Monday, January 24, 2005
Snow Day Extravaganza, Part II: The 90% Club
One thing that looking out over the snowscape outside this blustery Monday has brought to mind is the matter of attendance. Because barring some truly bizarre twist of fate, there will be school tomorrow. But how many of my students will be attending, this I can not say. Which is a shame really, because the school has made a real effort in the past few weeks to muster all the students it can to boost attendance.
Why is this? Well, for a few reasons. First, our attendance numbers in general are pretty poor, with the average hovering around 70% on any given day. Imagine how many people you knew in high school who showed up everyday, or nearly everyday. Then cut that number in half a few times and you get an idea how very very rare perfect attendance is at Underwood. This in turn impacts how well students do in their classes and leads to diminished academic achievement. But besides all that, there's a greater (and unstated) agenda, whispered only in shadows by mysteeerious administrators in backrooms and corner offices.
The details of the plot are simple. Take your standard inner-city school with relatively poor test scores. In any given year following the implementation of No Child Left Behind, that school is expected to make what is known as AYP (Adequate Yearly Progress), demonstrating that the school is actively addressing areas of concern. How do they measure AYP?--Can it be quantified or is it doomed to metaphysical oblivion a la Rousseau's general will? The answer is the former rather than the latter (Most politicians wouldn't know what to do with an existential quandary if it bit them on the hand. Though now that I think about it, would I?) In any event, the way to gauge progress is by test scores. If the scores go up a certain amount, we receive a gold star and the distinction of having made effective progress. We then rest on our laurels for a year and hope we can continue the upswing in a second year. This of course leads some (yours truly included) to wonder if this plan were actually to work what would happen when we reached the 90% proficient stage...would progress even be possible in that scenario? Fortunately (or unfortunately), this does not seem likely at this juncture as Underwood still has approximately 75-80% of its students ranked Below Basic in writing and math.
But that's ok, because there is an alternative route to AYP, which is how Underwood did it last year. Namely, improving a larger number of non-test related criteria, like attendance, by even a small amount can yield the same legal results as a wholehearted jump in the academic realm. Which led, I suppose to the creation of the 90% Club, a joint venture of WellMeaningPlans.Com and GoodIntentions, Inc. The idea was simple, set up a competition between the various homerooms, with those breaking the 90% average daily attendance over a set period of time would receive prizes. What sort of prizes? How about a dance in the gym...at night?
Not your thing?
How about a gift certificate to an unspecified store? And since it has to go to the whole class, it will probably be for a piddling amount?
Aha, that's not working for you?
Maybe a ...field trip?
Well in any event, they had this plan. And so two Thursdays ago, they unleashed/unveiled the 90% Club unto the world. The school wide assembly was implemented without warning and students were escorted to the gym, with my freshmen sitting in the same room as seniors, the latter group's higher rank in the school hierarchy reflected by their seats in the bleachers as opposed to the lowly freshman folding chairs. The cheerleading team, the drumline, the dance/drama group...all were in attendance. And what music were they playing at this most serious event, as students filed in to hear my principal extol the merits of good attendance?
"Shake that ass...." by Mystikal. Of course! Or perhaps it was something by Fitty-Cent (that is to say 50-Cent). Because nothing says studious and attentive like gangsta rap! Nothin'. I eventually grew tired of the spectacle and left halfway through the assembly to take my prep time, which would otherwise be stolen away. In the next couple of days, I checked whether my students were more inspired to attend, and the answer was the same as always. The kids who show up will show up, especially if for some reason I don't want them to show up, like if they're disruptive. The kids who don't show up will not. Fatalistic? Yes. Accurate? Scarily so.
Do I think that will apply tomorrow? Only if we have school. Who knows if the snow gods will bless us twice?
One thing that looking out over the snowscape outside this blustery Monday has brought to mind is the matter of attendance. Because barring some truly bizarre twist of fate, there will be school tomorrow. But how many of my students will be attending, this I can not say. Which is a shame really, because the school has made a real effort in the past few weeks to muster all the students it can to boost attendance.
Why is this? Well, for a few reasons. First, our attendance numbers in general are pretty poor, with the average hovering around 70% on any given day. Imagine how many people you knew in high school who showed up everyday, or nearly everyday. Then cut that number in half a few times and you get an idea how very very rare perfect attendance is at Underwood. This in turn impacts how well students do in their classes and leads to diminished academic achievement. But besides all that, there's a greater (and unstated) agenda, whispered only in shadows by mysteeerious administrators in backrooms and corner offices.
The details of the plot are simple. Take your standard inner-city school with relatively poor test scores. In any given year following the implementation of No Child Left Behind, that school is expected to make what is known as AYP (Adequate Yearly Progress), demonstrating that the school is actively addressing areas of concern. How do they measure AYP?--Can it be quantified or is it doomed to metaphysical oblivion a la Rousseau's general will? The answer is the former rather than the latter (Most politicians wouldn't know what to do with an existential quandary if it bit them on the hand. Though now that I think about it, would I?) In any event, the way to gauge progress is by test scores. If the scores go up a certain amount, we receive a gold star and the distinction of having made effective progress. We then rest on our laurels for a year and hope we can continue the upswing in a second year. This of course leads some (yours truly included) to wonder if this plan were actually to work what would happen when we reached the 90% proficient stage...would progress even be possible in that scenario? Fortunately (or unfortunately), this does not seem likely at this juncture as Underwood still has approximately 75-80% of its students ranked Below Basic in writing and math.
But that's ok, because there is an alternative route to AYP, which is how Underwood did it last year. Namely, improving a larger number of non-test related criteria, like attendance, by even a small amount can yield the same legal results as a wholehearted jump in the academic realm. Which led, I suppose to the creation of the 90% Club, a joint venture of WellMeaningPlans.Com and GoodIntentions, Inc. The idea was simple, set up a competition between the various homerooms, with those breaking the 90% average daily attendance over a set period of time would receive prizes. What sort of prizes? How about a dance in the gym...at night?
Not your thing?
How about a gift certificate to an unspecified store? And since it has to go to the whole class, it will probably be for a piddling amount?
Aha, that's not working for you?
Maybe a ...field trip?
Well in any event, they had this plan. And so two Thursdays ago, they unleashed/unveiled the 90% Club unto the world. The school wide assembly was implemented without warning and students were escorted to the gym, with my freshmen sitting in the same room as seniors, the latter group's higher rank in the school hierarchy reflected by their seats in the bleachers as opposed to the lowly freshman folding chairs. The cheerleading team, the drumline, the dance/drama group...all were in attendance. And what music were they playing at this most serious event, as students filed in to hear my principal extol the merits of good attendance?
"Shake that ass...." by Mystikal. Of course! Or perhaps it was something by Fitty-Cent (that is to say 50-Cent). Because nothing says studious and attentive like gangsta rap! Nothin'. I eventually grew tired of the spectacle and left halfway through the assembly to take my prep time, which would otherwise be stolen away. In the next couple of days, I checked whether my students were more inspired to attend, and the answer was the same as always. The kids who show up will show up, especially if for some reason I don't want them to show up, like if they're disruptive. The kids who don't show up will not. Fatalistic? Yes. Accurate? Scarily so.
Do I think that will apply tomorrow? Only if we have school. Who knows if the snow gods will bless us twice?
Sunday, January 23, 2005
Snow Day Extravaganza, Part I: Looking for Answers
Around 8:30 this evening I received approximately three online notifications from friends and fellow teachers here in the city that there was news on the district website that school would be cancelled. I clicked on the URL and lo and behold, there it was, plain as the nose on my face...though administrative offices would be open, the schools themselves would be closed. Like clockwork, a year nearly to the day since their last appearance, the snowgods have blessed this humble educator with a snow day.
Not that I was accepting of my good fortunes. Nope, a year and a half of public educating has reconfirmed time and again the old maxim that if something appears too good to be true it usually is...and besides, who trusts the Internet for information...really? I wanted confirmation from an outside source. Something not affiliated with the Internet if possible. So, what do I do? Turn on the TV and crap, no scrolling bar. And besides that, my reception, being as I am: sans-cable, is miserable, so clearly reading anything was not on the agenda. Ok, what's next? RADIO! But although the local station did have closings listed, they were all by school closing number. As I did not know my school closing number listening to a string of digits really did not prove useful.
Eventually I did receive confirmation from the nightly news...but that isn't going to stop me from an early wakeup tomorrow just to be absolutely sure.
In any event, to commemorate this (potentially) glorious occasion here are the answers to the 2nd Annual Invisible Ben Movie Quote Challenge. Congrats to the Baritenor who easily took the title by identifying the most movies correctly. See how well you did by reading below!
1. In fact the double negative has led to proof positive. I'm afraid you gave yourself away.
Clue
2. My understanding of women only goes as far as the pleasure. When it comes to the pain I'm like any other bloke - I don't want to know.
Alfie
3. And now, ladies and gentlemen, before I tell you any more, I'm going to show you the greatest thing your eyes have ever beheld. He was a king and a god in the world he knew, but now he comes to civilization merely a captive--a show to gratify your curiosity.
King Kong
4. How far is it to Winnipeg from Montreal?
The 39 Steps
5. Here you go. The killer's a literature professor. He cuts off little chunks from his victims' bodies until they die. He calls himself "the deconstructionist.”
Adaptation
6. Hey, that ain't ours!
Sure it is.
But we come in this one.
That don't mean we have to go home in it!
Bonnie and Clyde
7. Become vengeance, David. Become wrath.
Se7en
8. Because you're on television, dummy. Sixty million people watch you every night of the week, Monday through Friday.
Network
9. Well, I've wrestled with reality for 35 years, doctor, and I'm happy to state I finally won out over it.
Harvey
10. Guns for show, knives for a pro.
Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels
11. Hello, this is Sy Greenblum, president of Spatula City. I like the spatulas so much, I bought the company.
U.H.F.
12. Metaman - express elevator! Dynaguy - snagged on takeoff! Splashdown - sucked into a vortex! NO CAPES!
The Incredibles
13. Twenty million people died defeating that son of a bitch, and he's our first ambassador to outer space?
Contact
14. Did you know that Eleanor Roosevelt gave Lou Gehrig the clap?
Lenny
15. Clark Kent is how Superman views us. And what are the characteristics of Clark Kent? He's weak, he's unsure of himself... he's a coward. Clark Kent is Superman's critique on the whole human race
Kill Bill, Vol. 2
16. What was I supposed to do...call him for cheating better than me, in front of the others?
The Sting
17. What does God need with a starship?
Star Trek V: The Final Frontier
18. Well, everyone knows Custer died at Little Bighorn. What this book presupposes is... maybe he didn't.
The Royal Tennenbaums
19. That's the machine that goes “ping.”
Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life
20. Not strong enough, yet. Well, I will be soon enough. Until then... I'll let Jason have some fun.
Freddy v. Jason
21. How’s that for a bit of fried gold?
Shaun of the Dead
22. It seems to me the only thing you've learned is that Caesar is a "salad dressing dude."
Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure
23. You're rather attractive for a beautiful girl with a great body.
Caddyshack
24. If it's secret and elite, it can't be good.
The Skulls
25. Home is behind, the world ahead.
And there are many paths to tread.
Through shadow to the edge of night.
Until the stars are all alight.
Mist and shadow.
Cloud and shade.
All shall fade. All shall fade.
The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
26. No shooting friends, Joseph!
Unbreakable
27. Look how she moves! That's just like Jell-O on springs. Must have some sort of built-in motor or something. I tell you, it's a whole different sex!
Some Like it Hot
28. Do you consider the eating of oysters to be moral and the eating of snails to be immoral?
Spartacus
29. I'm disinclined to acquiesce to your request. Means "no."
Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl
30. Thirty years from now, when you're sitting around your fireside with your grandson on your knee and he asks you, "What did you do in the great World War II," you won't have to say, "Well... I shoveled shit in Louisiana."
Patton
31. Henry's bed is Henry's province, he may people it with sheep if he wishes. Which upon occasion he has done.
The Lion in Winter
32. Well, can't he just beam up?
This is reality, Greg.
E.T.: The Extraterrestrial
33. Great, a Soul Train reject, with a Robin Hood complex.
Undercover Brother
34. In fact, you know what they call me back home? You're gonna love this...The Lone Free Ranger!
Chicken Run
35. "When Alexander saw the breadth of his domain, he wept for there were no more worlds to conquer." The benefits of a classical education.
Die Hard
36. You can’t fool me! There is no sanity clause!
A Night at the Opera
37. No thank you. We are dressed in our best and are prepared to go down as gentlemen. But, We would like a brandy.
Titanic
38. Mr. Laurio, never trust a beautiful woman, especially one who's interested in you.
X2
39. Trumpy...you can do magic things!
Pod People
40. You was my brother, Charley, you shoulda looked out for me a little bit. You shoulda taken care of me just a little bit so I wouldn't have to take them dives for the short-end money.
On the Waterfront
41. Or else Pizza...will send out for you!
Spaceballs
42. Every time I put my line in the water I said a Hail Mary, and every time I said a Hail Mary I caught a fish.
The Godfather, Part II
43. You can not make friends with the rock stars. That's what's important.
Almost Famous
44. Of course, he was a Harvard graduate. That might be grounds for justifiable homicide.
Rope
45. Sew, old woman, sew! Like the wind!
¡Three Amigos!
46. What would you call that hairstyle you're wearing?
Arthur.
A Hard Day’s Night
47. Oh, it's about this woman who's incredibly - well, she's a hostess and she's incredibly confident and she's going to give a party. And, maybe because she's confident, everyone thinks she's fine... but she isn't.
The Hours
48. Excuse me, sir. Seeing as how the V.P. is such a V.I.P., shouldn't we keep the P.C. on the Q.T.? 'Cause of the leaks to the V.C. he could end up M.I.A., and then we'd all be put out in K.P.
Good Morning Vietnam
49. Tell them I was murdered by my mathematics tutor; they'll never believe you in any case!
The Seven Percent Solution
50. Hey, what's your name?
Davis.
Mine's McCardle. Well, so long.
12 Angry Men
Around 8:30 this evening I received approximately three online notifications from friends and fellow teachers here in the city that there was news on the district website that school would be cancelled. I clicked on the URL and lo and behold, there it was, plain as the nose on my face...though administrative offices would be open, the schools themselves would be closed. Like clockwork, a year nearly to the day since their last appearance, the snowgods have blessed this humble educator with a snow day.
Not that I was accepting of my good fortunes. Nope, a year and a half of public educating has reconfirmed time and again the old maxim that if something appears too good to be true it usually is...and besides, who trusts the Internet for information...really? I wanted confirmation from an outside source. Something not affiliated with the Internet if possible. So, what do I do? Turn on the TV and crap, no scrolling bar. And besides that, my reception, being as I am: sans-cable, is miserable, so clearly reading anything was not on the agenda. Ok, what's next? RADIO! But although the local station did have closings listed, they were all by school closing number. As I did not know my school closing number listening to a string of digits really did not prove useful.
Eventually I did receive confirmation from the nightly news...but that isn't going to stop me from an early wakeup tomorrow just to be absolutely sure.
In any event, to commemorate this (potentially) glorious occasion here are the answers to the 2nd Annual Invisible Ben Movie Quote Challenge. Congrats to the Baritenor who easily took the title by identifying the most movies correctly. See how well you did by reading below!
1. In fact the double negative has led to proof positive. I'm afraid you gave yourself away.
Clue
2. My understanding of women only goes as far as the pleasure. When it comes to the pain I'm like any other bloke - I don't want to know.
Alfie
3. And now, ladies and gentlemen, before I tell you any more, I'm going to show you the greatest thing your eyes have ever beheld. He was a king and a god in the world he knew, but now he comes to civilization merely a captive--a show to gratify your curiosity.
King Kong
4. How far is it to Winnipeg from Montreal?
The 39 Steps
5. Here you go. The killer's a literature professor. He cuts off little chunks from his victims' bodies until they die. He calls himself "the deconstructionist.”
Adaptation
6. Hey, that ain't ours!
Sure it is.
But we come in this one.
That don't mean we have to go home in it!
Bonnie and Clyde
7. Become vengeance, David. Become wrath.
Se7en
8. Because you're on television, dummy. Sixty million people watch you every night of the week, Monday through Friday.
Network
9. Well, I've wrestled with reality for 35 years, doctor, and I'm happy to state I finally won out over it.
Harvey
10. Guns for show, knives for a pro.
Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels
11. Hello, this is Sy Greenblum, president of Spatula City. I like the spatulas so much, I bought the company.
U.H.F.
12. Metaman - express elevator! Dynaguy - snagged on takeoff! Splashdown - sucked into a vortex! NO CAPES!
The Incredibles
13. Twenty million people died defeating that son of a bitch, and he's our first ambassador to outer space?
Contact
14. Did you know that Eleanor Roosevelt gave Lou Gehrig the clap?
Lenny
15. Clark Kent is how Superman views us. And what are the characteristics of Clark Kent? He's weak, he's unsure of himself... he's a coward. Clark Kent is Superman's critique on the whole human race
Kill Bill, Vol. 2
16. What was I supposed to do...call him for cheating better than me, in front of the others?
The Sting
17. What does God need with a starship?
Star Trek V: The Final Frontier
18. Well, everyone knows Custer died at Little Bighorn. What this book presupposes is... maybe he didn't.
The Royal Tennenbaums
19. That's the machine that goes “ping.”
Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life
20. Not strong enough, yet. Well, I will be soon enough. Until then... I'll let Jason have some fun.
Freddy v. Jason
21. How’s that for a bit of fried gold?
Shaun of the Dead
22. It seems to me the only thing you've learned is that Caesar is a "salad dressing dude."
Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure
23. You're rather attractive for a beautiful girl with a great body.
Caddyshack
24. If it's secret and elite, it can't be good.
The Skulls
25. Home is behind, the world ahead.
And there are many paths to tread.
Through shadow to the edge of night.
Until the stars are all alight.
Mist and shadow.
Cloud and shade.
All shall fade. All shall fade.
The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
26. No shooting friends, Joseph!
Unbreakable
27. Look how she moves! That's just like Jell-O on springs. Must have some sort of built-in motor or something. I tell you, it's a whole different sex!
Some Like it Hot
28. Do you consider the eating of oysters to be moral and the eating of snails to be immoral?
Spartacus
29. I'm disinclined to acquiesce to your request. Means "no."
Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl
30. Thirty years from now, when you're sitting around your fireside with your grandson on your knee and he asks you, "What did you do in the great World War II," you won't have to say, "Well... I shoveled shit in Louisiana."
Patton
31. Henry's bed is Henry's province, he may people it with sheep if he wishes. Which upon occasion he has done.
The Lion in Winter
32. Well, can't he just beam up?
This is reality, Greg.
E.T.: The Extraterrestrial
33. Great, a Soul Train reject, with a Robin Hood complex.
Undercover Brother
34. In fact, you know what they call me back home? You're gonna love this...The Lone Free Ranger!
Chicken Run
35. "When Alexander saw the breadth of his domain, he wept for there were no more worlds to conquer." The benefits of a classical education.
Die Hard
36. You can’t fool me! There is no sanity clause!
A Night at the Opera
37. No thank you. We are dressed in our best and are prepared to go down as gentlemen. But, We would like a brandy.
Titanic
38. Mr. Laurio, never trust a beautiful woman, especially one who's interested in you.
X2
39. Trumpy...you can do magic things!
Pod People
40. You was my brother, Charley, you shoulda looked out for me a little bit. You shoulda taken care of me just a little bit so I wouldn't have to take them dives for the short-end money.
On the Waterfront
41. Or else Pizza...will send out for you!
Spaceballs
42. Every time I put my line in the water I said a Hail Mary, and every time I said a Hail Mary I caught a fish.
The Godfather, Part II
43. You can not make friends with the rock stars. That's what's important.
Almost Famous
44. Of course, he was a Harvard graduate. That might be grounds for justifiable homicide.
Rope
45. Sew, old woman, sew! Like the wind!
¡Three Amigos!
46. What would you call that hairstyle you're wearing?
Arthur.
A Hard Day’s Night
47. Oh, it's about this woman who's incredibly - well, she's a hostess and she's incredibly confident and she's going to give a party. And, maybe because she's confident, everyone thinks she's fine... but she isn't.
The Hours
48. Excuse me, sir. Seeing as how the V.P. is such a V.I.P., shouldn't we keep the P.C. on the Q.T.? 'Cause of the leaks to the V.C. he could end up M.I.A., and then we'd all be put out in K.P.
Good Morning Vietnam
49. Tell them I was murdered by my mathematics tutor; they'll never believe you in any case!
The Seven Percent Solution
50. Hey, what's your name?
Davis.
Mine's McCardle. Well, so long.
12 Angry Men
Saturday, January 22, 2005
Snow Daze
Well folks, there's no getting around it...the Invisible Ben has been remiss of late in posting to his blog. Not that too many people outside immediate family and close friends actually read this, but I have actually received questions about the lack of posting. For once, the reason is not a lack of creative inspiration or an absence of anecdotes. Far from it, I'm like Discount Anecdote Warehouse [TM] over here. ("I've got tales from last week, this week, even stuff I just made up! How could I get these prices any lower? Come on down!") There is a list tacked near my monitor of at least a half dozen things worth writing about...once an inspiration strikes, it is folly to let it fade away. Someone once said similar (maybe Feynman?) in regard to dream journals...leave a journal by your bed and write down the dream immediately...well same idea here. I scribble down notes based on my everyday experiences for lengthier posts, but I just haven't made time to get things written. The time was not lost...it just was deprioritized.
Why? Partly, I think it has to do with exhaustion. I've been running myself ragged the past few weeks trying to do...well...everything, or so it feels like. Between the regular 7-6 teaching day, school district/organizational commitments, dealing with paperwork from universities, fixing up my car, and so forth, I'm driving myself up the wall. Two days last week I slept in, nondeliberately. Normally, I wake up at 5:30. This is the schedule I established back when I was living in my old apartment, about 20 minutes from the school, and it's one I stick with today. It allows for a leisurely breakfast, time to read my favorite blogs and other assorted websites (the Times, etc.). Plus I get to take a nice, long shower and get dressed without feeling rushed. Thursday and Friday this week, I got up at 7:00 and 6:30 respectively. I normally LEAVE at 6:30. Wakeup at 6:30? That throws everything off! I have a system, damnit! But here I am, waking up to my alarms (all 3 of them) and disregarding them. Curled up in bed, nestled under three layers of blankets, I feel almost no desire to step into my 58 degree apartment and begin the day.
It's cold outside now, colder than it's been in a while. Finally feels like the old New England winters in which I grew up which is something of a double-edged sword. In a way it parallels a general cooldown in attitudes and perceptions of my students, not to mention their perceptions of me. After all, the second marking period is coming to a close this week. And students are failing at an unprecedented rate. I have one class with only one student passing out of the entire 30. The students now believe that I am out to fail them and that there is no point in even trying to behave. And I have no control. Control got blown away by the first winter breeze. Because once it gets too cold in the building, I can't enforce simple things like the school's "no hat" policy as effectively. And once you give an inch...and they take a yard, even if they don't know how many inches, much less feet, are in it!
Tonight the city skyline is framed in that beautiful orange-pink shade that only appears when in rains or snows in a city. I have never seen it anywhere else. And on the ground below...even on my balcony, several inches of snow. The first storm of the season, and it's an actual nor'easter. They're saying between one and two feet by the time the whole thing blows over. What does this mean? It means a few things. Yet again life has demonstrated a curious symmetry by dealing a snowstorm right when I would be changing semesters (see last year's posts here). Not that school will be canceled, but its an amusing curiosity. Also, I'm going to be further isolated here to my apartment and my thoughts at least, until Monday, when I face my students once again. Right now, I'm walking in a haze of sorts...it's so cold and snowy, I should not have school on Monday. I shouldn't have to go back and face students who either do not feel any inherent desire to learn or simply do not have the ability to comprehend an increasingly complex set of information. And yet, here we are.
The colder temperatures mean more time to pass indoors and here at the computer, so expect posts to come more rapidly in the coming few days. ESPECIALLY if by some bizarre twist of fate I get a snow day off on Monday. If so, expect a lot of posting! But only after a significant amount of sleep.
Speaking of which, I'm bushed.
And so to bed.
Well folks, there's no getting around it...the Invisible Ben has been remiss of late in posting to his blog. Not that too many people outside immediate family and close friends actually read this, but I have actually received questions about the lack of posting. For once, the reason is not a lack of creative inspiration or an absence of anecdotes. Far from it, I'm like Discount Anecdote Warehouse [TM] over here. ("I've got tales from last week, this week, even stuff I just made up! How could I get these prices any lower? Come on down!") There is a list tacked near my monitor of at least a half dozen things worth writing about...once an inspiration strikes, it is folly to let it fade away. Someone once said similar (maybe Feynman?) in regard to dream journals...leave a journal by your bed and write down the dream immediately...well same idea here. I scribble down notes based on my everyday experiences for lengthier posts, but I just haven't made time to get things written. The time was not lost...it just was deprioritized.
Why? Partly, I think it has to do with exhaustion. I've been running myself ragged the past few weeks trying to do...well...everything, or so it feels like. Between the regular 7-6 teaching day, school district/organizational commitments, dealing with paperwork from universities, fixing up my car, and so forth, I'm driving myself up the wall. Two days last week I slept in, nondeliberately. Normally, I wake up at 5:30. This is the schedule I established back when I was living in my old apartment, about 20 minutes from the school, and it's one I stick with today. It allows for a leisurely breakfast, time to read my favorite blogs and other assorted websites (the Times, etc.). Plus I get to take a nice, long shower and get dressed without feeling rushed. Thursday and Friday this week, I got up at 7:00 and 6:30 respectively. I normally LEAVE at 6:30. Wakeup at 6:30? That throws everything off! I have a system, damnit! But here I am, waking up to my alarms (all 3 of them) and disregarding them. Curled up in bed, nestled under three layers of blankets, I feel almost no desire to step into my 58 degree apartment and begin the day.
It's cold outside now, colder than it's been in a while. Finally feels like the old New England winters in which I grew up which is something of a double-edged sword. In a way it parallels a general cooldown in attitudes and perceptions of my students, not to mention their perceptions of me. After all, the second marking period is coming to a close this week. And students are failing at an unprecedented rate. I have one class with only one student passing out of the entire 30. The students now believe that I am out to fail them and that there is no point in even trying to behave. And I have no control. Control got blown away by the first winter breeze. Because once it gets too cold in the building, I can't enforce simple things like the school's "no hat" policy as effectively. And once you give an inch...and they take a yard, even if they don't know how many inches, much less feet, are in it!
Tonight the city skyline is framed in that beautiful orange-pink shade that only appears when in rains or snows in a city. I have never seen it anywhere else. And on the ground below...even on my balcony, several inches of snow. The first storm of the season, and it's an actual nor'easter. They're saying between one and two feet by the time the whole thing blows over. What does this mean? It means a few things. Yet again life has demonstrated a curious symmetry by dealing a snowstorm right when I would be changing semesters (see last year's posts here). Not that school will be canceled, but its an amusing curiosity. Also, I'm going to be further isolated here to my apartment and my thoughts at least, until Monday, when I face my students once again. Right now, I'm walking in a haze of sorts...it's so cold and snowy, I should not have school on Monday. I shouldn't have to go back and face students who either do not feel any inherent desire to learn or simply do not have the ability to comprehend an increasingly complex set of information. And yet, here we are.
The colder temperatures mean more time to pass indoors and here at the computer, so expect posts to come more rapidly in the coming few days. ESPECIALLY if by some bizarre twist of fate I get a snow day off on Monday. If so, expect a lot of posting! But only after a significant amount of sleep.
Speaking of which, I'm bushed.
And so to bed.
Monday, January 17, 2005
More fun with unit conversion
Grading some papers at the end of my long weekend. Stumbled upon the following set of answers on my paper on unit conversion problems, focusing on world record breakers.
1. Robert Wadlow was the tallest man in medical history. He was 9 feet tall (approx.) and weighed 491 pounds. How tall was Robert Wadlow in inches?
ANSWER: 3
2. The world's largest pizza was cooked on Dec. 8, 1990 in South Africa. It was 123 feet in diameter and 10,000 pounds of flour were needed for the dough.
How many yards across was the pizza?
ANSWER: 1
If 1 ton=2,000 lb., how many tons of flour were used in baking the pizza?
ANSWER: 2
And it just goes on...
Grading some papers at the end of my long weekend. Stumbled upon the following set of answers on my paper on unit conversion problems, focusing on world record breakers.
1. Robert Wadlow was the tallest man in medical history. He was 9 feet tall (approx.) and weighed 491 pounds. How tall was Robert Wadlow in inches?
ANSWER: 3
2. The world's largest pizza was cooked on Dec. 8, 1990 in South Africa. It was 123 feet in diameter and 10,000 pounds of flour were needed for the dough.
How many yards across was the pizza?
ANSWER: 1
If 1 ton=2,000 lb., how many tons of flour were used in baking the pizza?
ANSWER: 2
And it just goes on...
Sunday, January 09, 2005
And for my next impression...
Some readers of this blog have noted that I tend to focus exclusively on defeats. There are very few tales of my triumphant success in the classroom. I confess that in my first year in the classroom, I expected this would be par for the course. After all, I was cutting my teeth, as it were, and had very little experience or confidence in my abilities as a teacher. This year, I had hoped it would be better, but for some reason or other, this has not been the case. Much of the time, I fear it's my fault.
But every so often, I have a moment, a rare shining moment of glory in the classroom. Last Thursday was such a time as four of my most disruptive students came to me after school for help understanding the work we were doing on distance-time graphs. Normally, I would be tempted to blow off these particular students with a hasty explanation...they generally make my life miserable in the classroom. Cussing, yelling across the room...one of them had the gall to use a cell phone in class and then deny it, not only to me but also to the head of the ninth grade academy and the school police. But that day, I took a deep breath, and I taught. I actually taught. We ran through the basics of slope and then started looking at a set of data...in this case a handy worksheet on Jesse Owens' record breaking run of the 100 meter dash at the Berlin Olympics. Before reviewing, we watched a quick video clip of Owens. Their eyes widened to see Mr. Owens bolt down the metric equivalent of a football field in less than 11 seconds. And then we calculated the average speed during each one second time interval. Blew...their...minds... Seriously. Minds were blown.
And these disruptive kids actually cared about slope. About speed. About physics.
I did something meaningful on Thursday. So what if the rest of my life is crap?
Some readers of this blog have noted that I tend to focus exclusively on defeats. There are very few tales of my triumphant success in the classroom. I confess that in my first year in the classroom, I expected this would be par for the course. After all, I was cutting my teeth, as it were, and had very little experience or confidence in my abilities as a teacher. This year, I had hoped it would be better, but for some reason or other, this has not been the case. Much of the time, I fear it's my fault.
But every so often, I have a moment, a rare shining moment of glory in the classroom. Last Thursday was such a time as four of my most disruptive students came to me after school for help understanding the work we were doing on distance-time graphs. Normally, I would be tempted to blow off these particular students with a hasty explanation...they generally make my life miserable in the classroom. Cussing, yelling across the room...one of them had the gall to use a cell phone in class and then deny it, not only to me but also to the head of the ninth grade academy and the school police. But that day, I took a deep breath, and I taught. I actually taught. We ran through the basics of slope and then started looking at a set of data...in this case a handy worksheet on Jesse Owens' record breaking run of the 100 meter dash at the Berlin Olympics. Before reviewing, we watched a quick video clip of Owens. Their eyes widened to see Mr. Owens bolt down the metric equivalent of a football field in less than 11 seconds. And then we calculated the average speed during each one second time interval. Blew...their...minds... Seriously. Minds were blown.
And these disruptive kids actually cared about slope. About speed. About physics.
I did something meaningful on Thursday. So what if the rest of my life is crap?
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
To have a giraffe...
Question from a recent homework worksheet, intended to teach students to convert between different units of measurement:
The tallest animal in the world is the giraffe, which can grow to be 19 feet tall!
How many inches tall is a giraffe? (How many times taller than you is it?)
Some sample answers:
In retrospect, the whole situation seems weirdly reminiscent of the commentary I heard this morning on NPR by my favorite sports writer this side of George Will, Frank Deford. He was speaking about the Yankees and if there will be a point of diminishing returns in their quest to maintain their evil empire. The long and short of it was whether or not Yankees fans could ever really be happy if they kept on cornering the market on strong players. In his words,
Victory would never be enough.
If you lose, you're even more dissappointed because you're supposed to win.
And if you win, what's the point?
Question from a recent homework worksheet, intended to teach students to convert between different units of measurement:
The tallest animal in the world is the giraffe, which can grow to be 19 feet tall!
How many inches tall is a giraffe? (How many times taller than you is it?)
Some sample answers:
Now...the really funny thing is not so much the answers, but rather the fact that most of these answers were on multiple papers. If one person thought the giraffe was 95 feet, 2 inches then that would be just one more amusing anecdote from my Crazy Homework File. But three different students with that exact answer? And the likelihood was that the 45 foot, 2 inch giraffe was the result of a misread 9. They don't even try to hide that they're cheating. And they're cheating to get wrong answers...And my favorite:
- 95 feet, 2 inches (the giraffe that ate Las Vegas!)
- 45 feet, 2 inches (the giraffe that started large fires in Reno)
- 19 inches (midget giraffe!)
- 19,000 inches (that's 1,583 feet for those of you keeping score at home!)
- If I was 6 feet, it would be 13 feet taller [than me].
In retrospect, the whole situation seems weirdly reminiscent of the commentary I heard this morning on NPR by my favorite sports writer this side of George Will, Frank Deford. He was speaking about the Yankees and if there will be a point of diminishing returns in their quest to maintain their evil empire. The long and short of it was whether or not Yankees fans could ever really be happy if they kept on cornering the market on strong players. In his words,
Victory would never be enough.
If you lose, you're even more dissappointed because you're supposed to win.
And if you win, what's the point?
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
Bigger than Jesus?
From the seldom-utilized InvisiblE-mail box in reference to my most recent post... Specifically, why was "yesterday" in quotes?
Lori writes:
From the seldom-utilized InvisiblE-mail box in reference to my most recent post... Specifically, why was "yesterday" in quotes?
Lori writes:
Maybe they meant the Beatles song? I’m surprised they haven’t gotten any complaints, really.
Well that would explain everything. The bulletin is urging us to forego the pagan jabberings of some quartet of mop-topped Liverpoolers (Lillipudlians? You know...from that city in England...with the old industrial mills. And the quaint shops...yeah, you know the one.) Ignore the pop cultural prophets and take solace in the spiritual?
Unless of course they were talking about looking to Godsmack for the future. Although it's true...given all of the tragedy and stress we deal with in the modern world, some days I think we could all benefit by turning towards Boston-based hard rock.
Monday, January 03, 2005
The Supreme Being Strikes Again
Underwood Daily Bulletin: December 10, 2004 (found during classroom cleanup today)
DAILY WORD: Leave "yesterday" in the past and look to God for the future.
Even avoiding any potential religious controversy...can we all agree that yesterday really doesn't need quotation marks in this setting?
Underwood Daily Bulletin: December 10, 2004 (found during classroom cleanup today)
DAILY WORD: Leave "yesterday" in the past and look to God for the future.
Even avoiding any potential religious controversy...can we all agree that yesterday really doesn't need quotation marks in this setting?
Existential Blues
This morning I woke up, thanks not to my first alarm, not to my second alarm, but through the cacophonous mercy of my third (and final) alarm which I set as a backup which through its blaring ministries shook me from a very deep slumber. I found myself ensconsed in a warm cocoon of blankets, bleerily gazing at the green lit numbers of my clock radio (5:35!) and said to myself..."what's the point?" I turned over and went back to sleep for a good 10 minutes, but then I realized that my choice of profession necessitated these early wakeups. Which made me wonder...is this worthwhile?
The sleep deprivation...the stress...is it worth it? And if it's not...does that matter in the short-term? After all, I still have to get up and go to work!
I hate the end of vacations. Even ones as short as this one (which lasted a total of 10 days) provide an all-too-fleeing glimpse of what my life was like before my eyes were open by entering the world of teaching and the world of work in general.
Time to cut off my musings...goddamnit. Time to go to school.
This morning I woke up, thanks not to my first alarm, not to my second alarm, but through the cacophonous mercy of my third (and final) alarm which I set as a backup which through its blaring ministries shook me from a very deep slumber. I found myself ensconsed in a warm cocoon of blankets, bleerily gazing at the green lit numbers of my clock radio (5:35!) and said to myself..."what's the point?" I turned over and went back to sleep for a good 10 minutes, but then I realized that my choice of profession necessitated these early wakeups. Which made me wonder...is this worthwhile?
The sleep deprivation...the stress...is it worth it? And if it's not...does that matter in the short-term? After all, I still have to get up and go to work!
I hate the end of vacations. Even ones as short as this one (which lasted a total of 10 days) provide an all-too-fleeing glimpse of what my life was like before my eyes were open by entering the world of teaching and the world of work in general.
Time to cut off my musings...goddamnit. Time to go to school.
Saturday, January 01, 2005
Nothing is sacred
I am getting tired of this. After the diner incident last night, I thought my interaction with students over vacation would be over. But no. First I run into one student tonight at the grocery store and then when I get home, this is at 10:30 or so, I get a phone call.
"Is this Mr. __________?"
I pause for a second before responding...
"Yes."
"Do you teach at Underwood High School?"
"What?"
"Do you teach at Underwood High School?"
"Who is this?"
"Do you teach at Underwood High School?"
"Who is this?"
"Do you teach at Underwood Hiigh School?"
At that point I hang up. They called again about 10 minutes later...I let the machine handle it, but deep down I know there is no escape. I really wish I had an unlisted number. But even then, it's too late.
Damnit. Damnit. Damnit.
Let me be clear, I don't hate my students or any Underwood students in general...but punks like this who do stupid stuff. It's hard not to hate them. That's all I'll say on the subject.
I am getting tired of this. After the diner incident last night, I thought my interaction with students over vacation would be over. But no. First I run into one student tonight at the grocery store and then when I get home, this is at 10:30 or so, I get a phone call.
"Is this Mr. __________?"
I pause for a second before responding...
"Yes."
"Do you teach at Underwood High School?"
"What?"
"Do you teach at Underwood High School?"
"Who is this?"
"Do you teach at Underwood High School?"
"Who is this?"
"Do you teach at Underwood Hiigh School?"
At that point I hang up. They called again about 10 minutes later...I let the machine handle it, but deep down I know there is no escape. I really wish I had an unlisted number. But even then, it's too late.
Damnit. Damnit. Damnit.
Let me be clear, I don't hate my students or any Underwood students in general...but punks like this who do stupid stuff. It's hard not to hate them. That's all I'll say on the subject.
The Odometer Clicks...
And it's 2005. Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen we've made it through another year! Not that this past year has proven dramatically different than most of its predecessors....same number of months (albeit with 1 extra day thrown in...), the same political brouhaha, the same wars, the same deaths, and the same Rockin' New Year's Eve. So what if Regis was the host? Sometimes I wonder if the whole New Year's buildup is just a conspiracy brought together by the noisemaker manufacturers, the champagne companies, and of course, the eeeeeevil influence of Big Media [TM].
Originally I had expected to spend my New Years as I did last year...alone, watching a DVD, and sipping on sparkling cider. Moving as I have to an apartment of somewhat greater altitude, I also harbored the hope that I could watch the fireworks from my balcony. But, things do not always turn out as we plan. Instead, I ended up undergoing a lengthy odyssey traveling first by bus and train to my favorite pub for a burger and a beer with a friend, then a trip down near my parents' first apartment to enjoy a dinner party hosted by another teaching friend and her roommates. I skipped out with my old roommate from last year who, after absconding with an abandoned Christmas tree for his rooftop deck, drove me up to the Art Museum area where I watched college football until around 11. A quick cab ride down to the center of town later found me spending the last 10 minutes of 2004 in a bar with a few other teaching colleagues toasting with some Guinness knockoff that perhaps this year would be better than the next.
Sadly, the first few hours of 2005 did not prove particularly promising as, in a striking example of irony, we ended up going from the bar to a diner. (The local Kwik-E-Mart equivalents, surprisingly enough, were closed, the first time I had ever seen this to be the case.) Now there isn't anything particularly ironic about a diner, not in and of itself anyway, but then the unthinkable happened. It's 2 in the morning...downtown...you're tired, slightly buzzed, and what would be the worst possible thing that could happen to you if you were a teacher?
Yes, that's right...an Underwood high school student, and his friends, decided to go to the diner, sit in the booth right next to me and my friends, and start being jackasses.
"You're Mr. _________, aren't you?" one said.
"Am I? Why do you want to know?" My response was received with a derisive snort and muttered accusations that I was trying to be smart.
Understand now that I was trying very very hard to maintain a straightfaced, straitlaced composure in front of my colleagues and that there was no real escape as I was in the corner of a booth. The rock crying out no hiding place and all that jazz...
Another kid turns and asks if I work at Underwood High School.
"Gee," I say. "I don't remember..."
Another couple of minutes pass by, and the kids become distracted by some other person and by the time their food arrives I am able to escape with my dignity relatively intact. But still...two years in a row, Underwood students finding me on New Years. Some things do not change no matter how high the odometer races.
God damn...happy new year.
NOTE: As promised, the Invisible Blogroll continues to expand! Feel free to check out the cryptic, poker-related musings of Square One TV's favorite videogame character at Mathman's Ramblings. And if the sarcastic wit of Dorothy Parker is more your cup of tea, then by all means visit Life is a Glorious Cycle of Song. There are more additions to come, so keep on reading!
And it's 2005. Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen we've made it through another year! Not that this past year has proven dramatically different than most of its predecessors....same number of months (albeit with 1 extra day thrown in...), the same political brouhaha, the same wars, the same deaths, and the same Rockin' New Year's Eve. So what if Regis was the host? Sometimes I wonder if the whole New Year's buildup is just a conspiracy brought together by the noisemaker manufacturers, the champagne companies, and of course, the eeeeeevil influence of Big Media [TM].
Originally I had expected to spend my New Years as I did last year...alone, watching a DVD, and sipping on sparkling cider. Moving as I have to an apartment of somewhat greater altitude, I also harbored the hope that I could watch the fireworks from my balcony. But, things do not always turn out as we plan. Instead, I ended up undergoing a lengthy odyssey traveling first by bus and train to my favorite pub for a burger and a beer with a friend, then a trip down near my parents' first apartment to enjoy a dinner party hosted by another teaching friend and her roommates. I skipped out with my old roommate from last year who, after absconding with an abandoned Christmas tree for his rooftop deck, drove me up to the Art Museum area where I watched college football until around 11. A quick cab ride down to the center of town later found me spending the last 10 minutes of 2004 in a bar with a few other teaching colleagues toasting with some Guinness knockoff that perhaps this year would be better than the next.
Sadly, the first few hours of 2005 did not prove particularly promising as, in a striking example of irony, we ended up going from the bar to a diner. (The local Kwik-E-Mart equivalents, surprisingly enough, were closed, the first time I had ever seen this to be the case.) Now there isn't anything particularly ironic about a diner, not in and of itself anyway, but then the unthinkable happened. It's 2 in the morning...downtown...you're tired, slightly buzzed, and what would be the worst possible thing that could happen to you if you were a teacher?
Yes, that's right...an Underwood high school student, and his friends, decided to go to the diner, sit in the booth right next to me and my friends, and start being jackasses.
"You're Mr. _________, aren't you?" one said.
"Am I? Why do you want to know?" My response was received with a derisive snort and muttered accusations that I was trying to be smart.
Understand now that I was trying very very hard to maintain a straightfaced, straitlaced composure in front of my colleagues and that there was no real escape as I was in the corner of a booth. The rock crying out no hiding place and all that jazz...
Another kid turns and asks if I work at Underwood High School.
"Gee," I say. "I don't remember..."
Another couple of minutes pass by, and the kids become distracted by some other person and by the time their food arrives I am able to escape with my dignity relatively intact. But still...two years in a row, Underwood students finding me on New Years. Some things do not change no matter how high the odometer races.
God damn...happy new year.
NOTE: As promised, the Invisible Blogroll continues to expand! Feel free to check out the cryptic, poker-related musings of Square One TV's favorite videogame character at Mathman's Ramblings. And if the sarcastic wit of Dorothy Parker is more your cup of tea, then by all means visit Life is a Glorious Cycle of Song. There are more additions to come, so keep on reading!
