Whenever I used to be on the verge of making a decision that Andy didn’t think was a good idea, to try to
remind me of a past bad “I told you so” decision, he would say two words– “Bill Hicks”. That was in reference to a time when I played a comedy album (on cassette) of that late profane
comedian for my parents, who were visiting from out of town. “I wouldn’t do that,” he warned. “It’s pretty blue.” I insisted on playing it anyway, telling him I’d play side one only, that
the stuff he was thinking about was on side two.”I think you’re wrong,” he warned again.He was right. It was more than blue, and my face was more than red to be listening to it in my
parents’ presence. But now I finally have two simple words that …
Month: November 2011
The Unbearable Lateness of Being: Breaking the Tardy Habit
I’ll never forget it. I was in first grade, and it was the last day of school. My teacher, Mrs. Cook, was wrapping things up for the day and passing out things for us to take home, like art projects, old papers, etc. “I’m going to pass out the attendance cards for you to take home to your parents,” she announced. “Some of you have no tardies, and some of you have a few. SOMEbody in here has been late in arriving to class TWENTY-ONE times! Can you believe it?” We all dropped our jaws. We couldn’t imagine who that was. After the white, 3 x 5 cards were distributed, I looked at mine. In the blank next to the word “Tardies” was a penciled “21”.
The Last Official Day of Being a Kid
Announced the other day by Emmie, the day before her 13th birthday: “Today is my last official day of
being a kid…that’s kind of sad.” I could have said something sage about how “13 is just a number” or “everyone should honor their ‘inner child’ no matter how old they get”, but I didn’t…I
didn’t want to minimize the wiseness of her observation, because it’s true in a way. Plus, the whole concept of a “last official day of being a kid” intrigued me… I thought back to what
I might have been doing on mine…was I dreading another awkward day of 7th grade? (Thanks to the magic of the Internet, I pulled up a ’74 calendar. The day before my
13th birthday was a weekday, a Friday.) Was I lugging my snare drum case down the long flight of stairs to the jr. high band hall, trying not …