Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts

Thursday, September 12, 2024

Story 555: Flashback Back to School

             (On a park trail, Friend 1 and Friend 2 navigate carefully over the uneven terrain)

Friend 2: (Gingerly stepping down a highlands hill) I can’t believe I let you talk me into taking the difficult trail this time.

Friend 1: (Holding onto a tree trunk for the descent) C’mon, you can’t stay on the easy-to-moderate trails all your life, you’ve gotta branch out a little – ow!  (Stubs foot on an exposed tree root and nearly falls off the mini-mountain)

Tree 1: <Heh-heh: got another one>

Tree 2: <Sweet> (The two trees’ branches slap each other in triumph)

Friend 2: (Helping Friend 1 regain footing) Still, this is the most exercise I get in a week, so I suppose I should be grateful.

Friend 1: You’re welcome.  (The ground levels out slightly and they continue onward with minimal interruption)

Friend 2: And it’s great coming here after Labor Day, with no more summer state park fees, summer crowds, or summer weather.

Friend 1: But it’s still summer.

Friend 2: Yeah, technically, but you know as soon as Labor Day hits, fun time’s over.

Friend 1: (Takes a swig from a water bottle) Ugh, don’t remind me: I hate this time of year.

Friend 2: Well, sure, I know you love beaches and boardwalks and any excuse to have funnel cake, but you gotta admit that the cooling weather, changing leaves, and absence of shore traffic are definitely perks.

Friend 1: Oh, no doubt; I won’t argue with any of that.

Friend 2: Then what is it?

Friend 1: (Stops walking, stares at an osprey landing on a nesting pole in the distance, and sighs; through gritted teeth) Back.  To.  School.

Friend 2: (Also having stopped walking) You… haven’t gone back to school in over 20 years.

Friend 1: I know.  But the 17 I did during my formative era have been seared into my brain and will never leave, at least until the inevitable dementia’s in full force.  No, scratch that: with my luck, those’ll be the only memories I’ll have at that point.

Friend 2: (As they both start walking again) All right, going back to school after summer break was sad and annoying, but it wasn’t that bad.  We got to see all our friends again.

Friend 1: I saw them in just the right amounts during break, I-thank-you.

Friend 2: Some of the work was interesting.

Friend 1: To you, maybe: I was a terrible student and didn’t need a yearly reminder.

Friend 2: (Winces slightly) …You liked Band!  And Drama Club, don’t forget that!

Friend 1: (Chuckles) True, true.  I miss those geeks; made me feel superior to the nerds in Chess Club.

Friend 2: What about the athletes?

Friend 1: Don’t talk to me about those dorks!

Friend 2: (Defensively) Hey, I was on the basketball team for three years in high school!

Friend 1: Oh right.  Well, you were OK.

Friend 2: (Shakes head in exasperation) Whatever – point is, for us, school was all right and not the faux-traumatic experience you’re acting like it was.

Friend 1: I’m not saying it was; I’m just saying I hate Back to School.  Every year, all the anxiety and pressure come flooding back in like they never left.

Friend 2: Oh, well, then just… don’t think about it, I guess.

Friend 1: I have yet to hear an instance where that suggestion has ever worked for anything.

(That night, Friend 1 lies in bed, staring at a digital clock on the lamp table)

Friend 1: Mm-hm: at this time 20+ years ago, I was dreading the first day of high school… first day of middle school… (Starts drifting to sleep) elementary school… kindergarten… pre… schooooooolllll….

THE DREAM

(In a never-ending hallway filled with students, Friend 1 stands in the exact center, dressed like a 1990s teenager but still with a 2020s face, carrying a backpack and holding several textbooks with paper bag covers in one arm and an illegible class schedule in the other hand)

Friend 1: (Looking around frantically through the streams of passing students, gigantic lockers, and infinite closed doors as many bells constantly ring) Where’s my classroom?!  WHERE’S MY CLASSROOM????!!!!

(Suddenly seated in the very front row of a classroom, Friend 1 strains to read what is written on the overwhelming chalkboard)

Friend 1: (Squinting) Three times – Brontë, who – apartheid, when – igneous, sedimentary, and metamorphic rocks, that – mi chiamo, che – differential equations?!

Teacher: (Standing at the front of the classroom, head almost touching the ceiling and growing every second) Now class, please turn in your reports on the entire science textbook that were due today.

Friend 1: (As all the other students hold out packets of neatly typed reports with perfectly formatted cover sheets) But – but – today is the first day of school – ?

Teacher: (Leans down from the heights to get in Friend 1’s face) THIS WAS YOUR SUMMER READING PROJECT!  YOU HAD MORE THAN TWO MONTHS TO COMPLETE IT!

Friend 1: But – but – a report on a science textbook?

Teacher: THE ENTIRE BOOK!

Friend 1: But – but – I don’t have it –

Teacher: YOU’D BETTER HAVE IT BY TOMORROW OR YOU’LL REPEAT THIS GRADE BEFORE YOU EVEN STARTED IT!  (Straightens up and addresses the rest of the room) Now class, let’s begin our study of the American, English, and Russian Civil Wars by simultaneously proving Fermat’s Last Theorem and translating the Constitution of France into Middle English, backwards –

(Friend 1’s eyes snap open as a buzzing cell phone nearly falls off the lamp table)

Friend 1: (Answering the phone) Hellllllllooooooo????

Friend 2: (On a cell phone at an office desk) You sound awful – everything OK?

Friend 1: It is now; what’s up?

Friend 2: Well, I was gonna leave a message just checking on whether you’ve gotten over your “Back to School Phobia” or whatever it is you have going on.

Friend 1: (Lies back and rubs forehead) Actually, I just woke up from a nightmare about the whole thing, and it was probably the worst dream I’ve ever had in my entire life.

Friend 2: Oh, wow, that stinks.

Friend 1: Yeah.  But, in a strange way, I think it may have been exactly what I needed.

Friend 2: How so?

Friend 1: Well, it was so ridiculously and unrealistically horrible that now my actual memories aren’t so bad in comparison.

Friend 2: (Leans back in desk chair in triumph) So: I was right.

Friend 1: Don’t rub it in.  Suffice it to say, I am now at peace with Back to School and can look upon that time fondly and enjoy this season at last.

Friend 2: Good, because the reason why I was only going to leave a message instead of having this full-blown conversation is that I figured at this point in the day you’d be at post-school era, adult-world work, so now I think you’re about two hours late.

Friend 1: …I wanna go back to school.

Thursday, March 7, 2024

Story 531: In-Class Demonstration

 [Thanks to my nephew for suggesting the story idea]

(In a middle school classroom)

Teacher: (Addressing students at the beginning of class) All right, everyone, today we’re going to do something a little different –

Students: Yaaaaaay!

Teacher: HUSH!  (They all hush) Now: since your term project involves a deep dive into exploring gravity as an all-consuming force in this world, I decided that a “hands-on” approach would be the most effective method to drive the lesson home into your still-developing cerebra.  (Scans the room and points to a student in the middle of the third row) You!

Student: (Looks around at surrounding students as they surreptitiously scooch their desks away and then points to self) Me?

Teacher: Yes; you’re still going to martial arts classes, right?

Student: Uh, yeah?

Teacher: Is that a question?

Student: More of an unspoken one of “Where is this going?”

Teacher: I’ll show you in a moment – get up here.  (Gestures to the front of the classroom)

Student: Umm… do I have to?

Teacher: Yes!  This’ll be fun for everyone, I assure you.

Student: OK…. (Slowly stands up and does the long march to the front of the classroom, turns, and faces a roomful of pitying looks)

Teacher: Thanks for volunteering – (Student double-takes) now, to demonstrate how gravity controls us all no matter what we do, I want you, a still-sprouting youth who’s barely hit 100 lbs, to utilize gravity in order to throw me, a full-grown adult who could stand to shed a few, soundly onto the ground.  (Crouches in a defensive posture) And… go!

Student: Umm… is this legal?

Teacher: I didn’t bother to check, now toss me!

Student: I really don’t think –

Teacher: No time for thinking, aaaaahhhh!  (Rushes Student who instinctively grabs Teacher around the middle and bring the latter to the ground)

Students: (Stand as one and raise arms to cheer) Yaaaaaay!

Student: (Holding hands to mouth in horror) Oh no, are you OK?!

Teacher: (Creakily gets up from the floor while holding lower back; Students sit down again) That was very good, but we’re not finished.

Student: We’re not?

Teacher: Nope!  I took it easy on you with that one by allowing you to use momentum to overcome my superior strength and then gravity to take care of the rest.  Now, I want you to try using gravity to take me down from a standing, immobile position.  (Stands straight with arms at sides)

Student: Uh, the moves don’t quite work like that in this position –

Teacher: I said “Take me down!”

(Student crouches low while moving in, uses a leg behind Teacher’s knee to make the latter’s leg buckle, and sweeps Teacher to the ground)

Students: (Stand as one and raise arms to cheer) YAAAAAAY!!!!

Student: (Helps Teacher stand up again) I’m so sorry – did you hit your head?!

Teacher: (Leans far back and swings from side-to-side to crack out everything) Nope – all good!  (To Students as they sit down again) See?  Again, gravity did most of the work in pulling my massively muscled body all the way down to the Earth that is continuously striving to merge with us!

Student: Umm….

Teacher: (To Student) Now!  I’m going to climb on top of my desk, and you’re going to have to demonstrate how gravity will shove me off my perch and drive me into Earth’s unforgiving embrace.

Student: Do I have to?

Teacher: (Climbs onto the desk and stands on it) Yes!

Students: (Start banging their hands on their desks and stomping their feet on the floor) YAAAAAAY!  YAAAAAAY!  YAAAAAAY!

Student: (To Teacher, over the increasing noise) I don’t know – one or both of us could really get hurt this way!

Teacher: (Crouching on top of the desk) C’mon, you coward!  Show me gravity!

(The classroom door suddenly flies open and Principal strides in; everyone else in the room freezes)

Principal: What on Earth is going on in here?!  The entire school can hear this racket!

Teacher: (Stands up straight again) It’s OK; I’m demonstrating the force of gravity.

Principal: You’re what?!  You teach English Language Arts!

Teacher: Well, how else am I supposed to get a bunch of pre-teens to appreciate the use of metaphor in Victorian literature?!

Thursday, January 25, 2024

Story 526: Laziness Life Goal

             (In a high school administration office, Guidance Counselor and Student sit on opposite sides of a desk)

Guidance Counselor: So, it’s that time of life where we basically go over what you want to be when you grow up.  I see in your transcripts that you excel academically and have been taking every college prep course available; you’ve been doing well in sports, mainly track and field; you belong to several clubs that work with the community; you play several instruments in all the bands here and step in with chorus if needed; you’ve been Class Treasurer, Secretary, and Vice President these past three years with election to President extremely likely next year; you work two part-time jobs most nights and weekends and three during the summer; and you volunteer with both the local humane society and the county paramedics.  My only question for you is this: where exactly would you like to focus all this energy into, as a career?

Student: (Leaning back in the chair) Career?

Guidance Counselor: Yes – your interests seem to be a bit all over the place, so tell me: what is your ultimate goal in life?

Student: (Leans back farther in the chair to stretch) Whelp, my true ambition can be boiled down to one word: laziness.

Guidance Counselor: I beg your pardon?

Student: No need.  (Sits up straight) Listen, I do all this – (Waves hand in the general direction of Guidance Counselor’s papers and computer) stuff on a surface-level basis; my heart’s not really in any of these things, you know.

Guidance Counselor: Clearly.

Student: So, I’m doing all these activities 24/7 now, while I’m mentally and physically able, to get to the point where I’m super-successful and then don’t have to do anything ever again.

Guidance Counselor: Well, that’s called “retirement,” which should’ve been about 50 years from now for you but more likely will be 60-to-70 at the rate things are going.  Mine got pushed back at least another 15 years, so I completely empathize with subsequent generations.

Student: …Yeah, I’m not waiting that long.

Guidance Counselor: Understandable.  So, what field do you plan to be super-successful in, hm?

Student: All of them.

Guidance Counselor: Ambitious, but let’s narrow it down to one or two.

Student: I’m serious.  I plan to succeed in math, science, literature, history, civics, religion, technology, sports, art, music, espionage, agriculture, dubiously-ethical archaeology, monarchy, and space exploration.  (Guidance Counselor stares at Student) That list isn’t comprehensive, though – it grows every few months.

Guidance Counselor: Barring the… physical impossibility of one person being able to do all of that, you’re telling me that you plan to not only accomplish but succeed in all these things solely to reach your end goal of… doing nothing?

Student: Exactly.

Guidance Counselor: Why not save yourself the trouble and just do nothing now?

Student: (Sighs tragically) Societal expectations.  When I reach the moment in my life where I can do nothing with no repercussions, I want everyone in the world to feel that it is well-deserved and not that I’m a leech on society.  Oh, the pressures of communal judgement on such a young, extraordinary mind as mine!  (Grabs head in despair)

Guidance Counselor: (Writes notes) I’m going to recommend that you apply to universities with programs in political science and legal studies - they’ll appreciate your strong work ethic and sense of drama.

Student (Look back up at Guidance Counselor) OK, sounds good.

TWENTY YEARS LATER

(Student-Now-Success stands on a balcony overlooking luscious gardens and many buildings, pools, and sports fields on a private estate, and smiles in contentment)

Success: I did it: today’s the day, at long last.  (Turns back inside to a sumptuous parlor, sits down on a massive couch facing a gargantuan table, opens a tiny laptop, and navigates to a site to address The World) Good people of Earth: today I am announcing my official retirement from all public activities, that have been and always will be in service of this glorious planet.

People of Earth: (Through the computer’s speakers) Awwwwwwww….

Success: (Briefly holds up a placating hand) I know, I know; this may seem sudden and quite early in my presumably long life, but please, don’t cry for your loss of me – the work will always continue, and there will always be hardworking volunteers to succeed me in our glorious opportunities.  Do not weep, do not mourn – I only ask that you remember me fondly, and don’t try to initiate contact: after I end this transmission, I’m never answering another message again.  (Ends the transmission to the sounds of worldwide wailing, shuts down the laptop, leans back on the couch, and closes eyes in bliss.  Several seconds later, eyes reopen suddenly) Now what?

Thursday, September 7, 2023

Story 506: The Fall From Summer

 (At an outdoor public pool, Friend 1 and Friend 2 lie stretched out on lounge chairs, reading waterproof books and watching families splash around in glee)

Friend 2: (To Friend 1) So, are you going to spend more than five minutes in the pool we paid $15 to spend all day in?

Friend 1: Are you?

Friend 2: …Maybe.

Friend 1: Same.  Besides, it’s more of the social experience than the actual getting-wet part.

Friend 2: You haven’t said one word to anyone here besides me; we could have done the same thing at a park for free.

Friend 1: But this way feels as if we’re at least making an effort.

Swimmer: (Climbs out of the pool and nods at Friend 1 and Friend 2 while passing their chairs) Good morning!

Friend 2: Good –

Friend 1: Don’t talk to me.

Friend 2: MORNING, hope you’re having a great day!

Swimmer: (Continues on uncertainly) Uh, thanks, you too.

Friend 2: (To Friend 1) You know, at this rate I’m shocked no one’s smacked you for your rudeness yet.

Friend 1: So am I.  (They both return to reading.  After several moments, a gentle breeze wafts by; Friend 1 suddenly sits up, ripping off sunglasses and hissing through clenched teeth) Did you feel that?!

Friend 2: (Tiredly, without looking up from the book) What, did you get splashed by a stray drop of water from an inconsiderate child in the giant pool we’re sitting in front of?

Friend 1: No!  Well yes, but I’ve risen above it – no, I was referring to that, that… (Points up to the sky) ill-omened wind.

Friend 2: I… felt a slight breeze for less than a second, if that’s what you meant.

Friend 1: Oh, that was no breeze: that was The Herald.  The Harbinger.  The Portent of Things to Come.

Friend 2 I didn’t hear there’s supposed to be rain today.

Friend 1: I’m talking about fall!  It’s here already, can’t you feel it?!  (The breeze wafts once more) There it is again!

Friend 2: It’ll be over 90° Fahrenheit for the next week.

Friend 1: Doesn’t matter!  We’re in September: the planet tilting away from the Sun in this hemisphere has reached the tipping point, the coolness of dread has begun, there’s no going back, the magic is over!

Friend 2: Calm down.

Friend 1: How can I when summer has come to a crashing end and all joy has ceased to be?!  (Notices that everyone in the pool had stopped splashing and now are staring at both of them)  I’m rehearsing lines for a play.  (They shrug and return to splashing)

Friend 2: I would be embarrassed but you manage to draw all attention to yourself, so thanks for that at least.  (Returns to reading)

Friend 1: (Lies back on the lounge chair and shoves sunglasses back on) That’s right, continue on in your ignorant bliss; I’ll mourn the passing of fun times and the illusion of permanent youth in silence.

Friend 2: Please do.

(The next day, Friend 1 approaches the main counter in a café)

Barista: Hi!  How can I help you toady?

Friend 1: I would like a giant refresher, please.

Barista: (Winces slightly) Sorry, those aren’t on the menu anymore until next summer.

Friend 1: It still is summer for another three weeks; I have a cactus on my windowsill that melted just this morning.

Barista: Yeah, but you know how it is in the World of Retail: end of August means Back-to-School sales, Halloween decorations, and fake Christmas trees.  Would you like me to whip you up a pumpkin-spice something?

Friend 1: I will pass on that abomination and take a regular brownie instead.

Barista: I hear ya – between you and me, gingerbread is where it’s at.

Friend 1: Making it worse.

Barista: Gotcha.

(The next day, Friend 2 answers the phone while cooking in the kitchen) Hey, what’s up?

Friend 2: (Lying on the living room couch, wrapped up in blankets) I had to put on a sweater today.

Friend 2: What?  Oh, yeah, that cold front came in all of a sudden; I think it’s from that hurricane that hit south of us, those poor people –

Friend 1: It’s still summer!

Friend 2: Well, it was hot before when we technically were still in spring, so….

Friend 1: It’s hot all year long now, that’s not the point!  It’s not supposed to be cool breezes with falling leaves and homework yet; it’s supposed to still be super-hot all the time with 16 hours of daylight and beaches and boardwalks and roller coasters and ice creams and sleepovers and vacations and happiness forever and – and – and –

Friend 2: Are you crying?

Friend 1: Not yet.

Friend 2: (Resumes slicing an onion) Good.  Now, listen carefully because I’m only going to say this once: in about two months there’ll be peppermint hot chocolate.

Friend 1: I suppose I’ll have to settle for that as a trade-off.

Thursday, August 24, 2023

Story 504: Obligation Pile-Up

“Don’t forget you have to pick up the kids after soccer practice tonight.”

“Oh shoot, I already did forget – what time is that?”

“7:00.”

“Shoot, I’m supposed to be on a teleconference for work at 7:00.”

“Why?”

“They want us to work all hours, what do I know?”

“Well, your children will be waiting for you at 7:00.”

“They’re your children too; can’t you pick them up tonight?”

“…I’m still out of the country settling my parents’ estate!”

“Oh right.  That’s still going on?”

“Good-bye.”

             *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

             “Ready for the conference on Thursday?  It’ll be fun to go to the casino afterward, if I don’t fall asleep in the hotel room first.”

“Wait a minute, that’s this Thursday?!”

“Yes, it’s been this Thursday since it was booked last year.”

“Oh no, I thought it was next week!  I told my friend I’d babysit that night, I even wrote it on the calendar, what-am-I-gonna-dooooooo?????”

“You thought to write babysitting on the calendar but not a work conference?”

“Babysitting was a higher priority!  What-am-I-gonna-dooooooo?????!!!!!”

“I dunno, take the kid with you?”

“I – hey, that’s not a bad idea.”

             *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

 “Hey, I got the tickets all ready for the show on Friday – I saved them to my phone AND printed copies, so one of them’s bound to work.”

“Right, about the show: could you pick me up at the boardwalk on your way to the theater?”

“Aaaand, why would I be picking you up there instead of at home?”

“I may have agreed to work a shift at the arcade that ends at 7:30 that night.”

“The show starts at 8!”

“…Plenty of time.”

             *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

 “So, I’m hosting Thanksgiving this year and was wondering if you could bring some dessert like cookies or a sheet cake or a chocolate fondue assortment – you know, nothing major.”

“Wait a minute, you’re hosting Thanksgiving this year?  Didn’t you tell me a while ago that you’re defending your doctoral thesis that week?”

“What’s your point?”

“How are you going to prepare all the food when you’re simultaneously preparing your oral defense?!”

“Despite everyone’s insistence to the contrary, I’ve personally found sleep to be highly overrated.”

             *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

“Wanna meet up for dinner this Saturday?”

“Can’t – got the kids’ karate tournament.  What about Sunday?”

“Can’t – got my cousin’s graduation party.  What about next Saturday?”

“Can’t – gotta stay with my grandmother that night while everyone else goes to a wedding.  What about next Sunday?”

“Can’t – gotta work that night for a group project that’s due that Monday, and we all have to wait until that date for stuff to be processed `cause it’s on a schedule.  What about the following Saturday?”

“Can’t – we’ll be in the mountains getting away from it all.  What about the following following Saturday?”

“Can’t – we’ll be at the shore getting away from it all.  What about – ?”

“Gonna cut you off right there and say ‘Can’t’ – how about a weeknight instead?”

“Mondays to Thursdays are permanently booked with sports practice, band practice, and/or clubs for all ages, and Fridays are the only nights where we can actually take a breath but I can make an exception this one time.”

“Forget it – Fridays are the only nights we can take a breath, too.”