Behinder

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It’s a little later than usual this year, but I’m almost done choosing tunes for Dinner Theatre. Actually, it’s a *lot* later.

The Thriller insists that as I’m getting older and my mind is more on grandchildren and travel than grand theater and tap dancing, my priorities are shifting. It’s true that I’ve been thinking about retirement more and more lately (many of my teacher friends already know I’m not going to make it to 30 years). I told BFF Kay last night that I want to be there for Jake and Justin’s concerts, ball games and school programs. I want to be able to pick them up from school sometimes, and take them to my house for dinner, homework, hang-out time, whatever. I also want to be available to drop everything and take off for an extended weekend with the Thriller before we get too old to take off for anywhere.

And don’t forget the occasional sleeping in.

Anyway, I figured about nine more years and I’m done. I’ll do something else, like the bakery business, or maybe write another book. The thing is, I can’t do just part of my job as I get older. I have to do it all, or it won’t work. In other words, I have to do those shows; gotta put in the late nights for three months, twice a year. That’s what’s aging me. But cripes, I do luv it.

Subject change……………….

What do you have planned for the “holiday” weekend? I put “holiday” in curly finger quotes because it’s supposed to be a day “on,” not a day “off.” I should be performing a community service on MLK Day, but instead, I am having tap rehearsal. Is that a service? Whom does it serve? I spoke to a friend who works in the private sector yesterday and asked him what he’s doing on MLK Day. He scoffed and said, “I have to work on MLK Day! I’m not a public school teacher!”

WELL! *humph*

Regardless, it is Saturday, and for many, that is a day of rest. So rest while you can, fiends. Monday (or Tuesday) is right around the corner.

FO

And another one of these…

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… just for good measure.

Sometimes, when my high school choir has exasperated me to the point of utter despair, I tell them, “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you. Please tell me you’re doing this to me on purpose.” I get blank stares, revealing nothing. And life goes on, inside my little Hitchcock movie.

Since high school students are on exam schedules this week, I don’t see them. But hey, I still have grades 5-8. They have apparently assured the high school students that they’ve got the insanity quotient covered in their absence. They are on my everlast nerve.

What is it about “Bring a pencil to choir every day” that makes kids give me a worried look and a non-answer when I ask about it? In a class with no homework, no tests, and no midterm or final exams, they can’t quite wrap their brains around the “bring a pencil” concept. And these are smart kids, fiends. As most music teachers know, secondary performance ensembles usually get a large section of the more successful, “together” students. They can solve multi-level math problems, write research papers, and spew the scientific names for every muscle and tendon on a dead cat’s butt — yet they can’t circle a half rest when I ask them to. What gives? Am I mental for expecting more than this?

At first glance, it’s a little thing. Multiplied by 250 kids — not so little. And to be fair, not everyone forgets a pencil or chooses not to engage his/her brain. It just seems like the ones who do forget disengage the loudest.

This is usually the place in a rant post where I say, “But I have lots of good things happening in my life, too…” Mehhhhh I’m not sayin’ it. Although I do not plan to take out my anger on anyone today, sometimes it’s good to feel the burn in your brain, ya know? Exercise the “get fired up” muscle. That’s gotta be good for something.

And the guy who keeps sending emails out with the signature line, “You win with people.” — Woody Hayes, gets a boot to the head. What does that even mean? It’s bad enough that Woody Hayes said it, but cripes…

Personally, I’d rather win with pickle beets. Or perhaps blast furnaces, rocker arms, hoary bats, or knights who say Ni.

*kA-BLaM*

Snow day #2

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Good. Now I will be forced to bury myself in DT prep all day. But first, a couple of Do Not Go Here sites (again, I disavow any responsibility for your wasted morning):

1. Letters of Note is a huge collection of actual correspondence from various famous people, photographed and submitted. Very interesting. Some are hilarious (make sure to read the “Tiger Oil” memos), others heartbreaking; they’re all quite revealing. Prepare to waste some time. It’s Angry Birds all over again.

2. I saw a link to this site on the Facebook page of one of my former students. I laughed. Surviving the World will spin some clock for you, Jimbo. Guaranteed. If you can get through all 855 “lessons,” you have my respect (I especially like Lesson #49, heh).

There. That ought to get you started on your Wednesday. Me? I’m off to the kitchen for some breakfast, then to the basement with my tap shoes. Maybe I should wait till the Thriller wakes up, though.

~

~

Nah.

:-)

Late = Hate

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I mean, I get up at 5 a.m. every day, fuh cripesake. You’d think I could get out of here on time. Truth is, there’s just too much I want to get done in the early mornings, and I end up trying to do it all, at the expense of my getting-ready time. So now I dodge the raindrops in the shower and schlep the makeup kit to school with me so I can finish getting ready — hopefully before anyone sees me without my warpaint on. It’s bad enough to be seen with it on, Lord knows.

The custodian who vacuums the carpet in the mornings has seen me without makeup — something I rarely allow humans to experience — and survived. Barely. But he’s old like me and likely understands.

And now, fiends, I must fly. Please leave an articulate and compendious greeting for my lunch break.

FO