What you won't hear in today's news is the true cause of that strong earthquake in Japan yesterday. Using The Troubadour as my confessional, I will stand and take partial responsibility for the trembler. The burden of guilt also rests squarely on the shoulders of Matt Ricks (sorry to throw you under the bus Matt, but you did give me control of the mouse).
SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 2009
My Week at the Space Education Center and Other Things. Really. I'm not Kidding.
It’s the kind of Sunday I enjoy. It's cloudy, it's spitting with rain but not too cold. It reminds me of an unsettled early spring day. I was out and about today. While driving I noticed Pleasant Groves’ roads were getting cratered with blemishes. Some of them were large enough to feel in spite of my Battlestar’s (my Lincoln’s) luxurious feather bed suspension system. Dodging the potholes meant dodging the other cars around me. It made driving entertaining. I think I’ll go out and drive some more once I finish this post.
People usually steer clear of my Battlestar. Its big, its heavy and it's something they don’t want to mess with in their little shrink wrapped cars. And if the Battlestar’s size doesn’t convince them to give me a wide berth - one look at me will. I wear my aviator’s leather cap with goggles and my Nottingham Forest Soccer Team scarf wrapped around my neck. I drive with the window down and head stuck part way out so the scarf flaps behind me in the wind. If I’m feeling lucky I’ll open the sunroof, straddle the center armrest, and stick my head and shoulders up through it. I steer with my knee. The cruise control provides thrust. What a rush. The locals call me the Red Baron of PG as I dodge the potholes in a beautifully choreographed dance of rubber on pavement.
OK, back to reality. Forgive the way my brain works. It's the potholes in my brain. They are the result of age and the company of 600 hyper kids a week. One day I’ll take a long rest in Willowing Acres Rest Home for Teetering Teachers. I’m paying a little bit monthly so the Home will reserve a room for me on the third floor. My family and friends know my thoughts on having a room with a view. Willowing Acres is a nice place - known for peaceful quiet and green gardens.
OK there i went again. I’ve got to get focused on what I sat down to write about............. What did I want to write about? If you know send an email and I’ll write about it next week. Until then I’ll talk about a few things that happened this week.
We had Monday off from school so no field trip. I sat through teacher training meetings. They took us into the gym to show off Central Elementary’s new PE equipment. I got to stand near a cone and jump on one foot. After that they said to gallop like a horse in circles. Wait, it gets worse. I was handed a hockey stick and plastic puck. We stood in the four squares painted on the gym floor and had to pass the puck around the square to the other three players. Kind of hard to do when the stick is designed for midgets. I may have slipped a disk in my back. After five minutes of that I used my stick as a cane and kicked the puck with my foot. What was the inservice instructor going to say? Willowing Acres was looking better and better.
I don’t remember a thing about Tuesday at the Space Center; funny to live through 24 full hours and not remember anything about it. It's kind of like driving to the store and realizing you drove the entire way unaware of anything.
Wait, something is coming through. There is a memory from Tuesday emerging from the fog in my head. I remember telling Kyle Herring he had the Voyager private mission that day. Of course he had forgotten. He is the only person I know with a memory worse than mine.
Wednesday and Thursday:
Parent Teacher Conferences both nights. I’ll get a parent or two of one of my pre-algebra students wanting to visit. I’ve got a great class this year so the conversations were pleasant. We ran a few Odyssey missions in the evenings. One was a junior mission. Poor Emily, Aleta and BJ. They truly distress over Junior Missions. You want to see what someone looks like after getting run over a car? Come look at Emily, Aleta, or BJ after a Junior Mission and witness what an adult looks like after being savaged by 9 hyperactive, uncontrolled pre-humans! I feel for them. CAUTION, they shouldn't mistake my sympathy for a desire to give them battle pay for Junior Missions.
Overnight camp. We hosted 37 students from Cedar Hills Elementary. They were great kids. No throw up - thank you Fortuna! They were kids from the school’s STY sixth grade class - you know, the gifted A.L.L kids. (I call them STY standing for ‘Smarter than You’).
Brittney and I had a laugh Saturday morning as the kids ate breakfast in the cafeteria. I usually hover over the kids to keep them from escaping to the rest rooms. If you let one go you’ve lost the group. We keep them in the cafeteria until they finish eating. The flight directors take them to the rest rooms for hand washing and drinks afterwards.
“That is what we call a banana,” I said. “It's fruit and you can eat it.” He looked at me like I was stupid. Then came the smile. He understood what I was talking about. I turned away and started laughing. Brittney was sitting on a small table near the serving line. She was laughing as well. She saw and heard the whole thing. Sometimes Kids say and do the craziest things.
I Love My Job.
Take Care Troops and Have a Great Week,
The Imaginarium Theater
This Week's Best Videos From Around the World Edited for a Gentler Audience.