The oldest Secret is on a multi-day field trip at the moment, and it’s going to be weird not having him making his enormous noise around here. In fact, the whole thing makes me mildly uneasy. He’s never been away from us for an extended period, except with my parents.
But I’m sure it’ll be fine. I mean, they’re in the hands of school teachers…. Level-headed, responsible school teachers…
Holy shit! We’ll never see him again!!
But seriously, folks. They’re not allowed to bring cell phones, and can’t have any outside contact whatsoever. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I can certainly understand it from the school’s perspective; they don’t want distractions and constant interruptions by overprotective parents. But at the same time… it feels a little like a hostage situation.
What do you think?
I went on a similar trip when I was in sixth grade, to Washington D.C., and had a great time. And I’m almost certain we didn’t have cell phones in 1975. That’s right, isn’t it? They never had rotary-dial mobile phones, did they? But I also can’t recall being under a strict communications lock-down. Ya know?
Coincidentally, a friend sent me this picture a few days ago. It was taken on that same D.C. trip, and as far as I can tell, I’m not in the shot. But who knows? It’s all distorted, like a 1968 album cover. I can’t recognize half the kids in it. In fact, I can’t even discern gender in a couple of cases.
But dig those crazy hats! I think we had to wear them so chaperones could keep track of us easier.
One of my most vivid memories from that trip has nothing to do with the incredible monuments, the sense of history, seeing the White House for the first time, or even the fact Stevie Wonder was staying at our hotel(!).
No, it was a large black woman at a cafeteria where we ate breakfast every morning. She had a tray completely filled with empty glasses, and poured a pitcher of orange juice across the whole thing, just moving from glass to glass with no interruption in flow. So the juice was going in between, as well as into the glasses. Every one of them was just as sticky as hell…
And that’s my most vivid memory from the trip.
I mentioned “level-headed” teachers a few minutes ago, and it was sort of a joke. But only sorta. I have an impression, and I could be wrong, that the teaching profession attracts an inordinately high percentage of kooks.
Am I mistaken about that? What are your thoughts? And if you agree, what do you believe are the reasons? Also, I’d like to know about other kook-heavy professions. We need to make a list. Use the comments section below.
And, just to be fair, I’d like to hear about your good teachers too. I had some really bad ones (Mrs. H.), and a few who blatantly hated me (Mrs. W.), but there were some good ones, as well. One, in particular, encouraged me to write, and was a positive influence. I was a sarcastic little shit, and probably difficult to take, but she went out of her way for me.
Her name is Mrs. Knighton, and she was very pregnant when I had her for English. And check it out, here’s the kid she was carrying. He’s the host of a TV show! Weird, man.
So, tell us about one really bad teacher you had, and one really good one. You know, if you’re so inclined.
And I’m going to link to today’s Mockable post, and call it a day here, folks.
Thanks for the continued support, I appreciate it sincerely.
See ya tomorrow!