Piddlin' Around

The garbageman's truck awakens me as it grinds past the house. I rise and greet my day with a grin; Richard Nunn gives me his cheeky weather updates as I walk on my treadmill for my self-imposed mile. I sip my morning cold carbonated caffeine and savor a fresh grapefruit. As I rinse my dishes, the phone chimes. (Do phones really "ring" anymore?) 22 minutes later, I am all caught up on the news from my book club and have a lunch date for later in the week. I head back to the sink to put the dishes in the dishwasher, when the doorbell calls me. It's my UPS man, I trade  him my package for a glass of iced tea and we both go merrily on our ways. The dishes finally in the washer, I pop open the garage door and put the load of clothes I washed last night into the dryer, which vents into the garage. (That's another story.) The mangy, flea-ridden dog from next door is out AGAIN and has crapped on my driveway, so the hose and I clean it up as well as spray him to get him back in his own yard. John, the mailman and former student, honks and drives into the yard since I am out, hands me the mail - no chat today as he's running late.

Back in the house I open the mail while finishing my Diet Coke. A letter from Mom (who must be the only woman left on Earth who still puts pen to paper as a method of major correspondence.) prompts me to flop into my comfy chair in the Florida room and listen to birds while I read. I get ready to call her but then remember she's teaching her journal class right now, so later. The dryer rings, I fold and put away. Treze shows up, announcing Bill has asked her "Will you run an errand for me in St. Augustine?" Do I want to keep her company? Bill should know better! We take our time, lunch at Monk's Tavern, wander a bit and meander home hours later, mostly prompted by three increasingly irked phone calls from Bill wondering "What the Hell are you two doing? It was a simple errand!" 

I catch up on computer-communications as the rain splashes down. (I wish it would stay for a while; we are so fire-hazardy as we're 7 inches below normal rainfall over two years.) I have fun e-chatting with a former student who works at the Pentagon and just had a great conversation with an admiral about Howard Roark and Ayn Rand's novels. She wanted me know that 26 years later, she is still enthralled with Rand's concept of "second-handers" which is what prompted the conversation she had; she had made a reference to the idea and he had asked for more details. 

Talked to Mom before she went to wine and cheese, she sounds fabulous - lively and enthusiastic as always. Lord, I love that woman. Made myself a new chicken/mushroom/onion dish for dinner. Took longer than I thought to cook, but I have discovered my wok is temperamental. As I was putting stuff in dishwasher, Joe called to chat and ended with did I want to see the new Imax movie coming out this Friday and afterward try the new freshwater fish restaurant at World Golf Village. 

I curl up on couch with my latest knitting project (a lap rug for Pierson), turn on the tv and am elated - back to back Leverage re-runs. No matter that I own the dvd set and have seen them all, this shows delights me. I finish my knitting section, channel surf for a bit. Nada. I write in my journal. I head for bed.

Nothing extra-ordinary happened today. I had a good time, though I accomplished nothing huge. I piddled around and loved it.

Teacher Traits

    Years ago I was asked to name the single most important trait a successful teacher should have. At the time, my response was, “An elastic sense of humor.” Recently I was asked the same question.  After decades of teaching, my answer is “a toss-up between patience, perseverance, and thinking on your feet.”

    Literature in the Media began with a blown bulb in the projector. Not easily reparable as this was one of the new mega-gimmicky attached-to-the-ceiling wireless projectors whose bulbs are viciously expensive. “Not a problem,” noted the school’s media equipment Mr. Fixit, “It’s still under warranty. I’ll put in the order right now.” So he whipped out his iPhone and dialed. Of course, no one had either an empty classroom or an available portable projector that period, so I took Coach John Heisman’s famous advice, “When in doubt, punt.” In the remaining minutes of class, the students and I discussed what made a movie “Good,” Bad,” “Passable,” or “A Waste of Time.” The depth of their responses led me to create a course whose purpose was to teach critical media literacy.

    First Period AP Literature started off normally as the students wrote their bell-ringer journal entries on a Debussy quote while his music played in the background. I opened the discussion of the assigned chapter of Thomas C. Foster’s How to Read Literature Like a Professor (a text the students enjoyed even more than I anticipated) in my normal fashion; “Anyone have any questions or comments?” After several minutes of interested back-and-forth, Katie raised her hand and asked, “Ms. Mayer, what’s phallic mean?” I hesitated for a second, thought, “This is AP and they are seniors in high school.” and answered, “It’s an adjective reference to a penis.” Total silence.  Katie looked stunned, gathered herself and said, “What? How is that a symbol?”  I explained the symbolism and how it could be used in characterization, for example, if applied to a car or perhaps a stereo system and that the reference was not always attached to shape. “Oh,” Katie nodded. “So, it’s like a ‘mine’s bigger than yours’ type thing. That is so cool. I have got to remember that.” Needless to say, it took work and focus to get the class back on the task of discussing the remainder of Professor Foster’s chapter on possible meanings of communion.

    The next two sections of AP began with students walking in the door asking if we were really going to be talking about phallic symbolism. I sighed each time, considered the amazingly efficient communication network that exists in high school hallways, and basically repeated my initial remarks and the inevitable forcing of minds back to the assigned topic.

    I looked forward to Speech I because I thought nothing could complicate an impromptu about modes of transportation. During an impromptu, I place a list of topics on the lectern, and call the students up at random to speak on a topic for 60 seconds.  This day’s list was 42 modes of transport from kayak to elephant. All went well for three speakers, then, Halley looked up from the list and asked, “What’s a stagecoach?”  I replied. She decided to choose “motorcycle.” Four speakers later, Kris asked, “What’s a wagon train?” Again, I explained. He opted for “camel.” Nine more students spoke, then, Chance asked, “What’s a carriage?” I told him and he chose “scooter” and quipped, “I hope it was the kind that had a gasoline engine.”

    Some days I was certain I was making a difference in the lives of children and other days I was equally certain they were put on this earth to test my desire to teach. On those latter days, I reminded myself of two things: (1) the half-century between our ages meant an enormous cultural gap exists and (2) there’s always tomorrow.

   Who knew Scarlett O’Hara was a sage?