An open letter to teachers

Dear Teachers,

Today I stumbled upon a little trick that they won't teach you in your education classes. Wear a mullet wig to school and it will freak your kids out. It will freak them out so much that they will create a silence that normally only occurs when they have been lulled to sleep with the sweet, sweet lullaby known as the Segment Addition Postulate. However, what is different about this mullet-induced silence is that the students are fully aware - no, super-aware - of their surroundings. This is the chance to teach them something. They don't know what's going to come next from the teacher (and the thing on his head), so they're paying close attention. Be quick, though, the effect will only last for about 20 minutes, but that's about 15 minutes more than what has been provided all year.

The mullet wig can also provide some "teachable moments" as many students don't know much about the mullet, especially those students from the African-American community. This is a great way to broach topics such as hockey, NASCAR, Lynyrd Skynyrd, and Canada. Cultural diversity is a lesson that can be taught all year long at any age.

After the success of the mullet wig, I'm going to try some other methods to shock my students into learning. My ideas include full scuba gear, a handlebar moustache, and my machete. Please let me know if you have any ideas to share.

Happy Halloween,
Donny

I'd biddy biddy bum

If I had had time this weekend, I would have watched Fiddler on the Roof because I took it out of the library. However, it was due back before I could return it. If I were a rich man I would have kept it and just paid the overdue fees.

Cheaters never prosper

Last week I gave a quiz, for which there were two different copies passed out to the room. The quizzes looked identical, but some of the numbers were changed so that if a student copied from another version of the quiz, I would know.

I caught 7 cheaters this way. I did not tell my cheaters that I caught them. Instead I called their parents. By now, though, they should all know that they have a zero on that quiz. When I made my phone calls to parents, I was met with a range of responses. Some parents responded with "Don't worry; I'll take care of it." to questions that almost put the responsibility on me. One woman asked if I was going to change her son's seat. Um, a seat change isn't going to change your son's integrity. Perhaps your son should pay more attention to the lesson instead of the girl sitting next to him. He's spending too much time on a girl who really doesn't require that much wooing, if you get my drift.

Unfortunately, I sometimes think about my job as a game. Even though my real goal is for the students to learn, I can't help but think that I won this round. New Teacher beat them again.

In the classroom

Student: Teacher, How many kids do you have?
Me: I don't have any kids, just cats. I have fourteen cats.
Student: Oh.

Some Pictures

This is my classroom. This is where the magic happens.

Yes, I'm actually a teacher. Sometimes I'm surprised by it too. They have given me a classroom, some students, a paycheck, and benefits. It's still shocking.

Note that I have uploaded pictures from last weekend's kickball tournament below. They're good. They're a kickback to your childhood.

I was feeling pretty proud of myself for my healthy eating at dinner tonight. I had organic lentil soup. And even though I enjoy it, lentil soup is quite high on the sacrifice-taste-for-health-meter. I felt pretty good about myself until I remember all of the other things I had eaten this weekend.

Friday
Dinner: Pizza and beer

Saturday
Breakfast: Bloody Mary (a vegetable!), jello shots, a donut, and a banana.
Lunch: Pizza and beer
Dinner: cheese, artichoke dip, bread and liquor.

Sunday
Lunch: Butterburger
Dinner: Lentil Soup - as if that makes up for the rest of the week. So, I chased it with M&Ms.

Mickey

On Friday afternoon, I saw my first mouse in my classroom. So, next week I began a new campaign titled, "Stop Eating During Class, You Slobs."

P. Egg Nicki

Adrienne organized a kickball team this year. Even though I'm on the team, we have yet to win a game. Sometimes our morale gets a little low but then something happens to raise our spirits. Usually that "something" involves alcohol, but there are occasions when we make good plays.

Due to my kickball league experience, I was asked to fill in for another team today when some of its members decided that they would not make it to a tournament. I have a tough time calling this a "tournament" though, because really it was just an excuse to begin drinking early in the morning. We began with a Bloody Mary breakfast at 9 and then moved on to the jello shots.

After two losses, our team (named "P. Egg Nicki" due to a computer glitch) was knocked out of the competition. It was not a glory-filled day. However, the weather was beautiful and we had a great time.

I have some pictures that I hope capture the spirit of the tournament.

Our team Sponsor, whose motto is "Eat, Drink, & Be Pickled".

The tournament was held in beautiful Pewaukee, Wisconsin, home of the Pewaukee Chamber of Commerce - and of course, the Pickled Egg.

Our Pregame warm-up included alcohol and the playground. This is a picture of Adrienne's legs. I think it captures how "with it" we were that day.

You may ask, "How could you lose to drunk teams?" But remember this was a team of superheroes. Drunk superheroes, but superheroes nonetheless.
And pirates. We lost to teams of drunk pirates.

Somehow, Papa Smurf made it onto the Superhero team. He was the pitcher. And I actually heard him yell during the game, "Quit smurfing around, and Play Kickball!"

I also wish I had a picture of Papa Smurf passed out on a picnic table after his first game.

Parent Teacher Conferences

I had both of my pens taken from my table during parent teacher conferences last night. Now I know where my students get their pen-thievery from.

Overall the experience was a good one. The parents I met were supportive - of me, and of their children. We talked about goals and it was good to see so many people concerned about education and not so much about a child's ego or self-esteem.

The conference was held in a different format than what I expected. All of the teachers sat at tables in alphabetical order in the gymnasium. Nothing particularly funny happened until the end of the evening when the math department had to return our "comfortable" chairs to the computer room. We raced each other across the gym. My department chair is a small woman, so I gave her a ride. But I did not slow down. We received some dirty looks from the other departments and from the administration, but no one stopped us. What are they going to do, fire the entire math department?

As many of you may have guessed while you were in high school, after long days, the teachers did go out to a local bar for adult beverages. (And I am shocked by the number of teachers who smoke!) Some had more to drink than they should have. And I learned things about my coworkers that I had not expected to. It was a good time. And I'm excited for the Christmas party, which traditionally includes a karaoke machine. The math department is not sure if we should sing Stacy's Mom or Paradise by the Dashboard Light. We have plenty of time to decide.

Party Animal

I have been singing the Golden Girls theme song all weekend long. However, I've been changing the words to reflect what happened to me on Friday night.

I invited my friends over for pizza and beer. They were great - the pizza, the beer, and the friends. Sometime at about 10 o'clock, while returning from the bathroom, I thought I would sit on my bed for "a rest." The next thing that I remember happening is that I woke up at about 1 o'clock, and I was completely confused about why there were people in my house. In a daze, I walked into my living room and asked, "What are you people doing here?" It wasn't until they sent me back to bed that I realized that I had invited them there.

Yeah, I'm a wild and crazy guy.