Smattering

* When did "pies" become "paper plates full of whipped cream"? I always thought that when people threw pies at each other, on TV and what not, that they were actually throwing real, honest to goodness pies. That is to say, a pie tin lined with a delicious crust and filled with delectable goodness. But that doesn't seem to be the case anymore. Now, on the rare occasion that you do get to see a pie thrown in somebody's face, it's not really so much a pie as it is a plate of whipped cream. Has it always been this way? Have I been deceived all along?

* I really should carry around a tape recorder with me all day when I'm teaching, because you really, just really would not believe some of the things that go on in a normal day at Garfield. There are the comical ones (some of which I've alluded to in the past, like J.'s little brother getting taken away to the "foster farm") like when one student told me that Cesar Chavez had formed an onion to protect migrant farm workers' rights. But others are just mind-bogglingly ridiculous. Take today, for example. We're learning about coordinate planes and this is the 3rd day of instruction. The third day, mind you - not the first. And they got a little bit of it in fourth grade as well, so it's nothing entirely new. But E. just couldn't figure out how to draw a coordinate plane correctly. So I, because I'm her teacher, tried to help her.

Me: Ok, let's first draw this line. What is this line called again?

E: The x-axis.

Me: That's right. Good. Ok, let's label the numbers. If this is zero (pointing to a point on the middle of the x-axis), what would this be (pointing to the next point to the right)?

E: (silence)

Me: If this is zero, what would this be?

E: (silence)

Me: (Putting my pen on the point where zero would be and writing a zero) Zero... (moving my pen over to the next line) Oooooone... (pausing to see if E. will say two for me, but she doesn't) Twoooooo (hoping, praying that she'll say three as I drag out the "uuuu" of two)...

E: Three!

Me: Yes. Ok. So we have zero, one, two, and three (I point to and write each number in kind). So, let's go back the other way (I'm trying to get her to put in the negative numbers now, and I point at each number as I move down the x-axis). Three, two, one, zeroooo... (my pen is now where -1 would be, and I'm waiting for her to say it).

E: (silence)

Me: Let's try this again. Three, two, one, zeroooo... (Again I pause, expectantly)

E: One?

Me: No, one is over here (as I point to the positive one).

E: Two?

Me: No, two is over here (as I point to the positive two).

E: (silence)

Me: The numbers to the left of the zero on the x-axis are the negative numbers. So it goes like this: Three, two, one, zero, negative one, negative twoooooo (waiting for E. to say negative 3)...

E: (silence)

Me: What do you think comes next?

E: Three?

Me: No, three is over here (as I point to the positive three). Look (as I point at the positive three with my pen)... three, two, one zero, NEGATIVE one, NEGATIVE two... (my eyebrows go up, mouth slightly open, the pause as pregnant as can be, hoping that she will say negative three).

E: (silence)

Me: It's negative 3. (Pointing to each number in turn) Three, two, one, zero, NEGATIVE one, NEGATIVE two, NEGATIVE three.

E: (silence)

Me: So what comes next after the NEGATIVE two (again, pointing to the spot to the left of the negative two)?

E: Two?

Me: (big sigh) No.

E: Three?

Me: (the fingers of my left hand now massaging my forehead) No. No. It's negative three.

E: (silence)

Me: It's negative three.

E: (silence)

Me: Say negative three. For the love of god, just say negative three.

* This past weekend, Pam and I stayed at the Ritz-Carlton in Half Moon Bay (hence the picture above). Instead of 10 and 11 year olds, *adults* were calling me Mr. Evans and those same adults were anticipating my every need. By the time we made it up to our room, there was already a message on our room's voice mail inquiring as to whether everything was meeting our expectations. When we came back later that night, we opened the door to soft jazz playing on the radio, the lights turned down low, and our bed covered in rose petals. I could get used to this.

* Normally, I do not find elderly people with Parkinson's to be amusing - not at all. But when I'm watching a tediously long play and fighting to stay awake, it's things like the old woman sitting in the third row, house left, her head jerking rhythmically and absurdly, that help keep my eyes open.

* I'm excited about Barack Obama. Unlike other candidates who announced "their decision" to run for President, I feel like he's the only candidate where people actually asked him to run. He said his candidacy is in response to what he feels is the American people's hunger for a different kind of leader, and I think he's right. The last time I was really excited about a candidate was in 1992 when Ross Perot ran. It's still early (obviously), but Obama already feels like someone I can support.