Soft landings

End of the year, not so rigorous

7th graders built something in my classroom during lunch, I can’t remember

Last week, the homework was to finish the book we’ve been reading all month. Is it due next class? Well, Mon is Memorial Day, then Tue-Wed there’s an outside group leading a bicycle workshop instead of class, rotating a day through each subject. And then Thu-Fri we’re doing portfolios, both the intro letter and selecting and reflecting on an ELA item from the year. Finish the book? You have over a week. Because the end of the year is filled with not work.

My last 5-day week of the year was 6 weeks before the last day of school. Field trips, lessons from outside groups, portfolio work, half-days… school ends in four weeks, and how many lessons do I have left? Two? Three? You don’t want to take your foot off the gas at the end of the year, but it’s hard to get into rhythm with so much disruption.

And slowing the pace can be dangerous because the kids are getting itchier. The weather’s warming, the teen years are approaching, the struggles are becoming magnified as kids lose their patience. They’re asking where to hand things in and I answer, Where have you handed things in every single time all year? Why are they forgetting routines and rules we’ve done all year? They’re over it.

And spoiler alert: teachers are, too. I like the teaching part of teaching, and that’s not what this last month is about. It can be fun to be outside and to joke with kids on bikes, but it makes it harder to take my job seriously. So we’ll slowly make our way to the end. And maybe even learn a thing or two.

The Urban Blah

Back in 2009-11 I collaborated with the brilliant Vee to make a webcomic that failed to become syndicated across the globe. I am pro-recycling.

Phones aren’t as water-phobic as they used to be, but I dropped my previous phone in the toilet and Face ID never worked again. Clearly this is a historically persistent issue for me. Vee has a substack, you should subscribe!

Jam of the Week

I’m embarrassed to admit I discovered the wonders of Ike & Tina Turner only after her passing. Turns out she’s not unlike Steve Winwood or Rod Stewart, their sucky/popular ’80s canon following a remarkable early career. Her ’60s and ’70s work is pure Aretha/James Brown/Sly Stone, so in my wheelhouse. “Bold Soul Sister” is pure fire, using the same riff from “Sing a Simple Song” in the same year, I’m unclear who dropped it first. It comes from my favorite so far, 1968’s The Hunter, so rooted in blues and funk. Ike was indisputably a monster, but he was also a musical genius. (Spare me if you still listen to “Billie Jean.”) He knew how to put together a show, his bands were tight, and he also might have invented rock ’n roll. (Looking at you, “Rocket 88.”) He helped Tina ascend to wild heights, even though was pretty assuredly a horrible dude. I’m glad I’ve found her early work, even shamefully late. Excited to keep exploring her catalog.

My Back Pages

War criminal and wife at the Kennebunkport Memorial Day Parade

Boy did I hate that George W. Bush. I remember when Obama won, I was so overwhelmed realizing I no longer had to feel like the government hated me. I got my country back! My response to the heartbreak of the 2004 election was to start a blog imagining an email correspondence with the worst President of my life (at that time, sigh). From Dec 2, 2005, “Strategery for Victory” from George Bush Is My Friend.

From: Prexy43 [Bush]
To: LiberalJerkwad [Tobin]
Subject: victory

Here is my new plan for victory in Iraq, which you would be wise to follow:

1. Do everything I say with no questions asked. Pretend you are my wife and I am commanding you to do my bidding. Be a good Christian wife and OBEY. You know who asks questions? Traitors and Jews.

My penpal version of Bush was a hardcore Christian in the worst way. His evangelicalism made me nervous, and I distrusted his redemption arc. I cast him as a stone age zealot, razzing me for my Judaism. This is one of the less profane posts, but I’ve also cut a few things that made my eyes pop a tad.

2. All praise is due to the almighty commander-in-chief, so only say good things about me and my administration. If you disagree with something I do or say, you hate America, you want all our troops to die, and you are a godless, soulless, pinko, Michael-Moore-loving bastard. Get with the program. Mr. Rove told me that loyalty oaths are this season’s new hot item. Do one of those, and we’ll really secure Baghdad.

I treated Bush as a puppet taking orders from Mr. Cheney, and even his other boss Karl Rove. I resented the Republican post-9/11 insistence that failure to properly rally around the President was equivalent to treason. Not supporting an unnecessary war of choice meant you hated the troops. It’s sort of GOP SOP now, but then it felt new and awful. This is really bringing me back.

3. Bring me some goddam nachos. And no tomatoes or that other vegetable crap. I’m talking cheese, chili, beans, maybe some of that mushed up avocado stuff, guatemala or whatever. God I miss Texas. DC nachos sucks.

I saw Bush as an idiot and a racist and far from a wordsmith. Also an unrepentant Texan in the worst way. But I bet he liked nachos. He was a simple man.

4. Ensuring tax cuts for the rich, drilling for oil in Alaska, restructuring Social Security so all payments go directly to Halliburton, turning a blind eye to Abu Ghraib, and refusing to disavow torture are the only ways to show Iraq we’re willing to play their game. You want to suicide bomb us? Hey, America’s willing to kill itself in the name of the Lord, too. We just do it more institutionally. 

The crux of my case against, I’d say it sounds quaint, but water-boarding and black sites and Guantanamo is grisly stuff. He should have gone to The Hague.

5. A Coke with those nachos would be nice, you know? Ooh, I could do with some coke right about now…

I believed the rumor of Bush’s cocaine past, made it current because I didn’t trust him and was mean.

If you and all your commie nay-sayer Democraps get with this simple plan, we will prevail. Why will we prevail? Because I said so, that’s why. I am your President, and if you want to sass me, maybe you’d rather spend the weekend raking leaves? I didn’t think so. Now go kiss your son goodbye and get him on the first plane to Tikrit, bitch.

-W

I guess it was cool to see a celebrity at the parade this weekend, but I didn’t clap and wished I was wearing my Obama shirt. Next year.