Score One for the Introvert

Heidi received a kind invitation from the family of two of her students, who are brothers, for a holiday dessert party. Unfortunately, the gathering is going to take place while we are out of town. It was an evite, and Heidi has no experience with those; it is I who handle most of our virtual social life. "What do I do?" she wanted to know. "Just click 'No'?"

"Yes, but don't worry," I told her, "you will have a place to make comments after you do that."

"Should I just say Unfortunately I can't make it?" she asked.

"Well, no," I answered. " Say something like, Thank you so much for thinking of me! It sounds like a really fun party, but I'll be out of town then," I suggested.

"Thanks!" she said.

"No problem," I replied. "I'm really good at turning down invitations!"

A Peril

Heidi and I are generally a very agreeable pair; there's not much we don't concur on. Dressing dogs in clothes is one of those few things: Heidi wants to do it, and I will not allow it. Over the years we have reached an informal compromise. For example Isabel has over a hundred collars, and she wears a different one every day. Isn't that a wardrobe for a dog? Lately, too, Heidi has been buying tiny hats and photographing all the dogs we know wearing them. That seems close to the line if you ask me, but no one has.

We passed all sorts of people and dogs on Roosevelt Island this morning as we walked its trails enjoying the balmy December day. One dog in particular caught both of our attention. "Look, that guy has a coat on," I noted as we approached from behind.

It was a smallish, short-haired little pooch. "He probably gets cold," Heidi replied.

"Whoa!" I said as we got closer. "It's also wearing some kind of dress!"

"Oh yeah!" Heidi nodded in appreciation as she spotted the frill peeking out from under the coat.

"My gosh!" I cried a second later. "It has pants on too! They're like bloomers or something!" I cringed. "It looks like a miniature version of the Big Bad Wolf dressed as Grandma!"

Heidi shrugged. "Layers," she said.

Haves and Have Nots

A member of the National Junior Honor Society knocked on our door during homeroom. "Do you have any cans for the food drive?" she asked.

We did not. "Are any of you guys going to bring something?" I asked after she left. "Because I know there's a lot going on and it's easy to forget. Remember, I'll match anything that you donate."

There were nods of agreement. "I'll bring something on Monday," one student assured me. "We have lots of cans at our house that we got from the food bank and never use." She shrugged. "I don't think my mom knows how to cook half that stuff."

Let's Not Get Crazy Now

We had an early dismissal for students today so that the staff could use the afternoon to participate in professional development. Such a thing happens about three times a year, and most of the time we have special school-wide activities planned, like the Day of Peace and the International Film Festival.

On those occasions, students spend the whole time with their homeroom groups. As worthwhile as those days can be, the abbreviated version of the daily schedule that we followed today also has its perks. The time flies by, and short classes mean focus is imperative (and possible) for all-- it's like anti-block scheduling.

"I love today!" one of my students said. "The time is going by fast, but we're getting a lot done!"

I nodded.

"I would even give up Saturdays off to have this schedule all the time," he continued.

And there our agreement ended.

Time Well Spent

I confess that there are times when I really want to skip my bi-weekly ukulele lesson. Usually I don't feel like I've practiced enough; other times I'm in the middle of something at school; sometimes it just seems inconvenient to go down there at 5 pm on a Thursday.

I always go, though, and I'm always glad I went. My teacher is nice; he doesn't judge me, he just meets me where I am at the moment, plays duets with me, and gives me really good pointers about fingering, rhythm, and timing.

Tonight, for example, we played a few Christmas songs (which sound muuuuuch better when he plays with me), and he helped me through some tough spots by having me count the notes as I strummed them slowly. Once, when I was stuck, I called out the notes in tune as I pointed to them. "Wow!" he turned to me without a trace of irony. "You can sing, too!"

Broken News

It was drive time when the news of the shootings in California started trickling in this evening. I listened with that sinking oh-no feeling, but it didn't take too long to realize that the news media had very little information. Beyond reserved speculation, they could only repeat the terrible details that three gunman had senselessly attacked an auditorium full of people at a social service facility.

I couldn't listen very long. I lost my appetite for the agonizing pace of live breaking stories years ago. It probably started with the slow speed chase after OJ Simpson, but certainly the night that Princess Diana was killed, when they repeated the facts and that one ten second video clip of her entering the car over and over, rubbed a dull, heavy spot on my consciousness that watching the twin towers collapse over and over again on the days following September 11, 2001 only aggravated.

Even a simple snow storm triggers over-coverage. Flip on the TV and you will hear the same forecast, see the same weather map, and watch the same closures crawl across the bottom of the screen over and over and over. I want to be informed; I want to know what is happening, but a few hours perspective in our crazy 24-7 news cycle?

That will keep me sane.

Rec-ing Ball

There was a lot going on when I went down to the gym after school to walk our enormous indoor track. The weather was wet and raw here today, and so it seemed that lots of people had the same idea as I to escape the cold and rain and still get a little exercise. In addition to citizens of our fair county who belong to the rec center that shares our school facility, the girls on the move club was down there preparing for their big 5k this Saturday. The boys soccer team was practicing indoors as well, and there was a home girls basketball game so that team and the cheerleaders were all warming up as spectators trickled in from this or that afterschool activity.

Music was pumping, kids were laughing, and spirits were high, which made walking in giant circles kind of fun. When the starting lineups blasted through the loudspeaker I found a place in the bleachers, and I was sitting center court when the whistle tweeted the start of the first quarter.

It has been six seasons since I left my coaching position for the team, but my co-coach is still at it. He hasn't really switched up his game play much; I recognized the offense, the defense, and the in-bounds plays, but this team executed them exceptionally well. Not only that, he had three squads of mixed grade levels that he rotated in every couple of minutes, so everyone on the bench got playing time, and they all looked really sharp.

At the end, the team dominated its opponent even more than the 27-12 scoreboard reported, and I had a lot of fun cheering from the other side of the court. I even briefly considered rejoining the coaching staff.

Briefly.