May 19th: beekeepers and matchsticks
[ posted by mcdeviltoast ]
Day 245
Ultraman class began singing the chorus with me almost immediately, with no prompting. They are legendary, which then makes the afternoon triple-threat much more frustrating. I went and played piano in the arts building, the fingertips on my left hand numb from the developing guitar callouses. I had to shut the door to some interlopers who thought the funniest thing in the world would be to have a "hello" war while I was playing.
The first class was lackadaisical; it's nearly time to make them sit and write a story again to get their attitudes back on track. The next, my football hooligans, were bad. About 8 of them ran to the WC to avoid doing eye exercises, so I locked them out and told them not to talk. This is the fourth time I've warned them about such tomfoolery. I began telling the class why I was angry, what the kids did when I realized I was being "that teacher," hammering the importance of being good into the very group who were already being good. I apologized, told them, "You are good students. I am not angry with you. You are good and clever. Let's have fun and make a song." That got them beaming and happy again, but they stayed somewhat taciturn for the rest of the period.
In the third and final class, my dude (I kicked out of class one time for admitting he was a bad student) had a plastic bag containing four or five bees and was tearing a hole in it, readying their freedom. I pointed and told him "outside" several times before he actually became mobile. I don't want to know how he caught them, and I damn sure didn't want them loose in class. Who knows what kind of angering and fiendish shit he had done to them. If they were pissed and wanted to sting something, they might get confused by the flowers on my Hawaiian shirt and mercilessly jab me, the very person who granted them amnesty.
Afterwards, Tabitha (from class 7) came up to me in the hallway and asked if I knew a song called "Hey Jude" and if I would sing it. "Yes I know it. It's one of my favorites. It's the Beatles."
"I know," she said.
"How....When did you hear it?"
She pondered, then shrugged. "I think I do not know." I sang the first couple verses, which drew a crowd of onlookers, then I told them I might have guests joining tomorrow (Rhys and Heather). They cheered and I took my leave, "Hey Jude" in my head.
Tree dumplings for dinner, "Matchstick Men" for cinematic joy (which spawned a debate over whether "con artist" films are their own genre. Went to sleep with the zen-like ruminating over whether insects defecate.
Ultraman class began singing the chorus with me almost immediately, with no prompting. They are legendary, which then makes the afternoon triple-threat much more frustrating. I went and played piano in the arts building, the fingertips on my left hand numb from the developing guitar callouses. I had to shut the door to some interlopers who thought the funniest thing in the world would be to have a "hello" war while I was playing.
The first class was lackadaisical; it's nearly time to make them sit and write a story again to get their attitudes back on track. The next, my football hooligans, were bad. About 8 of them ran to the WC to avoid doing eye exercises, so I locked them out and told them not to talk. This is the fourth time I've warned them about such tomfoolery. I began telling the class why I was angry, what the kids did when I realized I was being "that teacher," hammering the importance of being good into the very group who were already being good. I apologized, told them, "You are good students. I am not angry with you. You are good and clever. Let's have fun and make a song." That got them beaming and happy again, but they stayed somewhat taciturn for the rest of the period.
In the third and final class, my dude (I kicked out of class one time for admitting he was a bad student) had a plastic bag containing four or five bees and was tearing a hole in it, readying their freedom. I pointed and told him "outside" several times before he actually became mobile. I don't want to know how he caught them, and I damn sure didn't want them loose in class. Who knows what kind of angering and fiendish shit he had done to them. If they were pissed and wanted to sting something, they might get confused by the flowers on my Hawaiian shirt and mercilessly jab me, the very person who granted them amnesty.
Afterwards, Tabitha (from class 7) came up to me in the hallway and asked if I knew a song called "Hey Jude" and if I would sing it. "Yes I know it. It's one of my favorites. It's the Beatles."
"I know," she said.
"How....When did you hear it?"
She pondered, then shrugged. "I think I do not know." I sang the first couple verses, which drew a crowd of onlookers, then I told them I might have guests joining tomorrow (Rhys and Heather). They cheered and I took my leave, "Hey Jude" in my head.
Tree dumplings for dinner, "Matchstick Men" for cinematic joy (which spawned a debate over whether "con artist" films are their own genre. Went to sleep with the zen-like ruminating over whether insects defecate.
---
[ posted by mcdeviltoast @ 5/19/2005 07:54:00 PM ]
[ permanent link ] 
Post a Comment
<< Home
The dumbtronica act Montana & McDeviltoast, along with their friends, keep each other updated on their activities. Much fun having by all, and Pockys fear for their lives!