So Real and So True

When we pass each other in the halls, sometimes we teachers, as most folks do, ask each other how its going. You know, a time honored way of acknowledging each others' being as we move through the atmosphere. Sometimes, we might respond, "Living the dream!" Of course, we are being facetious, to some extent, right? Is this the dream? Is this the life we imagined for ourselves? I guess it depends.

As a young child, if you asked me my dream, I suppose it would most likely have involved being a pirate captain. Nowadays, except for a relatively small and remote part of the globe, just off of the eastern coast of Africa, piracy is a pretty dead career choice. Okay, in any time period and any place, piracy was a pretty dead career choice. Literally. But, let us continue.

As a youngster, my idea of piracy was Captain Hook, and Treasure Island. A Romantic version of pirates, with sailing ships and cannon balls, grape shot and crow's nests, and navigating by dead reckoning and the starry night sky--with a few sword fights thrown in. That most definitely is a "ship on the horizon" dream in every way. The dreamer is never going to get there.

As I grew older, my late teens, my dreams shifted from pirates to science. But, still, I remained at sea; my dream became a career in marine biology. Okay, wait--that's wrong. My actual dream involved living on a South Pacific island (preferably one that hadn't been nuked, but I wouldn't be too picky), eating fish and crab everyday and playing guitar around a beach campfire every night. I'd live in a modest little wooden shack. I'd drink water from a stream. I'd have a dog. I never imagined other people there. Go figure, a recluse's dream. And, most certainly, another "horizon" dream. More possible than piracy, perhaps, but still pretty impractical. The marine biology thing was probably just a fall back.

But, as most of you know, any dream of the sea was an impossibility for me, due to my inability to keep myself from getting ill once I leave solid ground. Boy, is that just an ironic tragedy? Or, maybe, just more of life's absurdity. (Cue the circus music and enter Pere Ubu.)

But how did I get from there to here? How does anybody? Follow point A to point B and repeat...and here I am. Does it have anything to do with dreams? Only insomuch (which could be all) as de la Barca posited. Life is the dream. Or a dream among many possible dreams. Which gets me to thinking about the multiverse. So, I am going to stop now.

Sweet dreams.

This One Goes Up To Eleven

The Monkey and I celebrated our eleventh wedding anniversary on Saturday night. Being rebellious, we jumped the gift list. Traditionally, eleven is the steel anniversary, but last year, Monkey got me tickets to see the NCAA basketball tournament opening rounds (the rim is the steel). The modern list says this year should have been fashion jewelry, but that's what I got her last year. As a result, this year, we got each other a card. Honestly, every year except last year, all we got each other was a card. It's just the way we roll.

Anyway, dinner at Wilderness Ridge was good, and we enjoyed our cards. Monkey's was way better than mine. It had a pirate Monkey on it! How perfect is that? We're thinking, after that card, maybe next year, we won't get each other anything....

Not The End, Really. Just a Long Break.

Friday's final contract day was a breeze, since I had all of my work done on Thursday afternoon. All I needed to do was eat some eggs, listen to some speakers, get a few signatures, and find a way to fill the time until noon. I managed to do that by going through my piles of "organized" paper work and filing things appropriately (mostly throwing crap away).

The day before, I managed to find a few moments to decorate my soon-to-be-retired cart. A colleague and I were supposed to have a last day cart race, but that never materialized. At any rate, I was proud of my push cart-cum-pirate ship, the SS Peeps Revenge (with a peep snowman captain and a full crew of nautical peeps). And, yes, once again, I did get all of my responsibilities handled before I did this.

At noon, a few of us were off to lunch. It really is a treat (aside from the nine weeks "vacation") to have more than 27 minutes to eat lunch, and to go off campus to dine. Granted, many students have 27 minutes and go off campus, but a) they usually hit a drive-thru, and b) they usually put their lives and the lives of others at risk to do so. We teachers are not really about to do that. So, it was nice to dine on my BLT and drink my beverage and not worry about having to be back in the classroom before most of my food actually entered my stomach.

After lunch, it was off to the links to enjoy the sunny day hacking at golf balls. After four shots, I was down four balls, three of them going into some form of aquatic obstacle and the fourth apparently blasting off for the lunar surface--nobody even saw where that one went. By the third hole I had settled down a bit and fell into my routine from last year: longest drive of our foursome from the tee, pathetically heavy-handed short game (I didn't actually make a putt all day). We still managed to keep our reputation, finishing with a 14-over 46, which was good enough for last place by four strokes.

All in all a good day, capped off with a visit to a local Mexican restaurant.