My Personal Problems Exposed!

Here we go again!

It's a fact that I am not the best candidate to own a cell phone.  In the past, I have dealt with the embarrassment of taking countless photos of the inside of my pocket, having my phone ring at a funeral, and sending bogus pocket text messages.

Saturday, the thirteenth, was no exception.  It was around eleven in the morning when I noticed that I had a new text message from one of my coworkers.  It said, "REALLY?  Four times at six in the morning?  What were you doing?"

I was confused.  I jogged my memory to see if I did anything even once at six that morning.  I don't think I've ever done something twice in the same morning, let alone four times.  Then I checked the messages communicated before hers.  There were four messages sent by me saying "in a meeting." This is one of the pre-loaded text messages that came as a feature on my phone.  

Then I remembered!  It was the morning I helped my wife as she helped an organization that provided food for the needy provide fruit for runners of a 5K event.  I loaded her bounty into the car and rode with her to the event...all with my phone in my pocket.

So I guess I jiggled in just the right rhythm to send four bogus messages to my coworker, evidently the last person to text me before that time.  Upon noticing my little faux pas, I texted her apologizing for what happened.  Fortunately for me, she said that her phone was not near her when the messages were sent.

Since the incident, I've been keeping my phone at bay.
I also keep my phone ringer silenced at this point.  Disrupting my reading groups at school was getting embarrassing.  Getting weather alerts in the middle of the night was annoying.  So, at night and in school as well as all other times, I pretend it's bygone times: being able to work, drive, go to church, and sleep without full-time communication, just like the good old days!

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Last week, there was one morning that saw all the normal parts of my hygiene regimen completed, lunch was packed, and I was on my way to school.  The third grade classrooms are on the opposite side of the one-story structure than our office, and there is a significant distance for a elderly gentleman to walk.  When my teaching partner and I got to our classroom, I whispered to her in fear, "I think I forgot to put on deodorant this morning!"  

Being the polite friend and coworker that she is, she replied, "I don't smell you."

By the middle of that eighty-something degree day, and in that un-air conditioned building, my faux pas became more and more undeniable.  I only live a few miles from the school, so I could have gone home at lunch time and fixed the problem, but decided that by the afternoon, the kids had been in gym class, at recess, and were also in an un-air conditioned building, so no one would know if it was the children or me causing the unpleasant stench in the air.....

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The day I'd been anxious about for some time had arrived:  The day of my annual physical.  I must be getting old because these things take longer and longer every year.  Every year, I lay there in my underwear and get scrutinized...inside and out, and from one end to the other.  This year, I am happy to report that I'm as healthy as an old horse:

  Blood pressure...normal. (There are no kids living at home at this point.)  

Weight...no change (It's only the beginning of the school year and the snacks in the office have only just begun to show up, and as I've mentioned before, I get my physical as far away from my birthday and Christmas, the worst food days of the year, as possible.)  

Heart rate and pulse, lungs, skin...passed the test!

Then IT happened.  The doctor, who I've been using for my medical services for over two decades, alerted me that I have athlete's foot.  How could this be?  I've never been an athlete, how could I have athlete's foot?  He said I could use over the counter creams to control it, but that he would be happy to call in a prescription for a stronger cream.  I agreed, we finished the exam, and I went on my merry way.

I picked up the fungus fighter, brought it home, then read the prescription details.  Apparently, CVS Pharmacy filed my prescription by the first two letters of my last name followed by the word 'ACUTE' !

'BO ACUTE'!!  Did word of that day at school "without deodorant" leak into the community and into my personal pharmacy?  How embarrassing!

Here we go again!

The Diseases Attacking the Empty Nest

Friends, as you watch your little ones leave the nest and go off to college or another adventure, you are most likely feeling that normal sense of sadness.  You've had them around for so long, and they've been a source of love, reward, pride, annoyance, anger, and frustration.  Don't worry.  They'll be back....and while they are gone, they will have contracted one or more of these diseases.  Let's call the child who has left the nest and returns for a visit 'the returnee'.  Let's look at the maladies.  Let's be aware that they are not life threatening, that there is no medical cure for them, that Obamacare has not addressed them, and that they have an out-of-sight out-of-mind sort of existence.  The symptoms can be acute during their visit, but diminish quickly as they fly the coop again.

There is LeaveTheLightOn-itis.  This one attacks the returnees' ability to remember to turn the light off when leaving a room.

ConstantRation is your act of selecting products to help your environment as well as curb the ever-growing expenses.  In an effort to conserve paper towel usage and save a few pennies, you have purchased the select-a-size paper towels.  With these you can use half of a sheet of paper towel when drying your hands or wiping a small spill. The thrift you have demonstrated is diminished with the rapidly shrinking roll and overflowing waste basket.  For the returnee, three to four half sheets are necessary for any drying or spill-wiping need.

There's PerCup-sus.  This is the one that prevents the returnee from using a water glass more than once. The reaching for a new glass, in turn, results in  JetDry-lag, the constant running of the dishwasher.

There's Ask-ma.  This is the one that, despite the fact that the returnee has lived on his or her own for months at a time, and you really don't know what they do and when they do it, suddenly they are home and they ask you for permission to take a walk or have a snack, or anything else.

GoneArea is that space in your living room, dining room, kitchen, or hall that was free of clutter and safe to walk through, and is now a danger zone.  The returnee's backpack, papers, laptop, keys...you name it...have filled the voids.

Let's not forget Hip-Displace-ia.  This disorder appears the moment the returnee gets into your car or house, and he or she changes the hip music you are playing to something they want to hear, or turns your hip music off completely and put the television on.

Of all the new diseases we've contracted in our home since becoming empty nesters, this one is my least favorite.  It's called CanCuss-ion (a.k.a. Badder Inflection).  The returnees have been hanging out at colleges and in the workplace and some words have crept into their vocabulary.  It's unsettling when this disease appears.  You know you didn't teach them anything colorful, and did your best to watch your step while they were growing up.  Still, one can't look at movies, the Internet, or the world without hearing it, absorbing it, and emulating it.  You may never get used to the returnees' newly found freedom of expression!

Of course, no list would be complete without Bird Flew.  This is characterized by the lethargy and exhaustion felt by the Mom and Dad chickens when their chicks return to their independence. Suddenly it's too quiet. Where's the vocalizing?  What's this you see?  Television in English?  What's this you hear?   Music from the golden age of Rock and Roll...in English?!

Friends, fear not.  If the nest becomes more empty as the children grow and show signs of independence and happiness, you will adjust.  Before you know it, they will be returnees, and those diseases will invade your space and your newly adjusted ways.  I repeat, they are not life threatening and all the love, reward, pride, annoyance, anger, and frustration will return with them...intact!  A fact of life, and a good one!

The Golden Apple

I got an award this week.  It's called the Golden Apple. I'd like to tell you about it, but first I'd like to tell you about my not so distinguished, and not very stellar award winning history.  It seems that each honor, though appreciated by me, carried a bit of a stigma on its back.  Read and you'll see what I mean...

My first encounter with prestigious awards came in 1969, while I was still elementary school age.  I was a school safety.  I don't remember the countless deeds I performed as a safety, but I remember that the faculty advisor was not a pleasant person, and quite frankly, scared me to death. She taught sixth grade.  Across the hall from her room was the art room.  The only time I was sent into the hall for punishment was that year when the art teacher had had enough of my talking and giggling in class.  I remember being so afraid that Mrs. Krauss would come out of her room and see me standing there.  Every time I heard her door open, I turned my head so she'd see the back of it.  Well, I didn't get caught and got my ill-gotten award....

In 1970, when I was in seventh grade and middle school age, students had to collect all their notes, tests, and handouts, and arrange them in a notebook, in a specific way, with a clever theme.  I remember that the grade had been recorded as a check++ on the title page, but the second + was in a different color ink, most likely changed after a teacher's second appraisal.  I remember how shaky and sweaty I was when the award was being given wondering if that second + meant that my name would be called, and how light-headed I felt as it was.  I remember how proud the other 157 recipients of the award and I felt as we shared the moment and the audience applauded... 

By the time ninth grade rolled around, it was common knowledge in the school, in the community, and in the family that I had absolutely no athletic ability.  I wanted to be involved somehow, and a friend of mine suggested that I be a team manager.  I remember organizing and carrying equipment and keeping score.  Soon I had the honor of being a non-athlete with an athletic award and a varsity letter for baseball!  Another ill-gotten award!  They got the last laugh, though...my name was misspelled on the certificate.  Go figure......

I spent all my free time in my senior year of high school in the library.  I helped organize the periodical section and distribute magazines to students who had properly completed the request.  I worked hard and was so happy to receive this award from the librarian on Awards Night.  A few years later, I saw her in the Mall and ran over to her and gave her a big hug.  I was so happy!  She looked at me with a blank stare.  She didn't remember who I was.  I told her my name and reminded her of the work we did together and she still didn't remember.  I was crushed...

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Fast forward to the first day of school each year as an educator.  Each year in the District, the entire staff from all the buildings assembles for eloquent, welcoming speeches from the Superintendent, the School Board President, and the Education Association President; and each year Building Principals and the Administration award a handful of what they call 'Golden Apples' to staff members whose nomination and review of that nomination result in eligibility.

It goes without saying that after a great summer, it is difficult to muster the desire to return to the grind.  In the beginning days of my time in the District, I kept it in my brain and suffered in silence.  Now, with Social Media, I have a way to express my anxiety and suffer out loud.  It's what a curmudgeon does!  With the summer of 2014 being my most fulfilling in years with day trips to state parks, a mini-vacation to the Jersey shore, an abundance of visits from the kids and grandkids, and an exploration of the history of my family; I can honestly say that when the day before the Staff's opening assembly in the third week in August arrived, I was not ready to go back to school.  So, I posted a status:  I don't wanna go back to school!  I really didn't!

I got up at my usual time on the magic morning.  I had hoped that something would make me want to mask the misery, but it wasn't to be.  After quite a few minutes of threatening to go to the school unshaven and disheveled, and after a few unsympathetic stares from my wife Jackie, I caved in and cleaned up.  She is between jobs right now, so when it was time for me to leave, she was at home, in the bed, in her pajamas, and doing a Sudoku on her Ipod.  Little did I know at that moment that she was masking something too!  

Golden Apple awards had already been presented to a community volunteer in the district, and three deserving teachers, including one of our own in the Elementary School. Our building principal rose to the podium and told the crowd that he was presenting two awards that morning.  He then proceeded to ask the audience to compare the pair to other great 'couples' in Entertainment history such as Ozzie and Harriet, Regis and Kelly, and Abbott and Costello.

Then Amy, the Reading Specialist, who is my immediate supervisor, replaced the Principal at the microphone and continued the discussion of couples.  I appreciated all her observations, even if I didn't agree with all of them.  She began describing my coworker Lisanne and I.  She said you never think of  one of us without thinking of the other.  Joe and Lisanne, Lisanne and Joe, That's the way it is.

She began by telling the audience that I am THE man...really...the only one in the OES Reading Department and warned the crowd not to get me started on how difficult my day is working with so many women. This is true.  It's hell on Earth!  It's a tough job but someone's gotta do it!  When the girl talk and antics get to me, I just tune it all out.  I raised four kids, you know, and I can tune out anything!  

She talked about how Lisanne, my coworker and co-recipient, is quick at everything.  This is an understatement.  Usually I have responded to a statement or question from Lisanne, only to find out that she left the office in the two and a half seconds between the time she made the statement or asked the question and my response! The beginning of what was a discussion or an answered question quickly became a frustrating and embarrassing monologue by me to no one!  

Amy revealed to my district wide coworkers that I always put our computer's memory stick in the same place except when I accidentally put it in my pocket and take it home.  I concur that this is true.  Then she spoke of tabloid fodder, saying that I do a Friday Happy Dance.  This is not true.  There is no video and no substantial evidence that I have ever danced, however briefly, in the office.

She marveled at Lisanne's ability to talk in code.  This is true.  Most times I can't figure what the heck she is talking about.  Then Amy talked about the snacks.  I literally gain five to ten pounds during the school year and lose it again in the summer.  I have actually stopped going for my annual physical near my birthday in February, and now go in September, before the snacks begin pouring in and the pounds begin pouring on!.

It's true that we are both obsessed with words, and have a mammoth dictionary fondly known as 'the Beast'; that we both like to search for typos in whatever we read; and that we both love to teach. Amy also included some adjectives to describe us: hard working, funny, compassionate, flexible, reliable...instinctive, I hope!

As it was revealed that Lisanne and I would be called to the front, my neighbor, who sat next to me, said that I was 'beige', and my coworker, who sat on the other side of me said that I cowered in my seat.  I felt lightheaded.  When it was time, I walked to the stage; collected my award; and greeted the Superintendent, the Principal, Amy, and Lisanne.  I went to the microphone and, being a man of few spoken words, blurted, "Well, this is embarrassing!"  and then said a few more words that I don't remember, and Lisanne went to the microphone after me and said, "Ditto what he said!"  Then we were greeted by our spouses.  My little sneak had known about what would happen on that day for awhile.  She played it well and, when I finally left the house, got out of bed and prettied up in record time to be there.

Are you sure it was meant for me?  It's not ill-gotten, is it?  When a late career actor or actress is in the running for an award, he or she is the sentimental favorite.  He or she could get an award just because he or she is old, and they want to catch him or her before he or she...you know! 

Are you sure it was meant for me?  Could it be that, though I started in the Reading Department in the year 2000, I first walked the halls of that school in 1990 with my oldest son, and never left?  Could it be that the path worn in the hall was worn by me during my time as a parent, a volunteer, a cafeteria aide, and a member of the Reading Department?

Are you sure it was meant for me?  I work with so many folks I admire.  Any of them could have been called to the podium for their contributions to the children in our district.  Were they okay with the outcome?  So many of them have offered kind words.  I am blessed to be in their company.

The shaking stopped the next day.  It had sunken in.  There was no stigma.  It was perfect.  I am humbled. 

This week I got annoying around the house and got those wifely stares from you know who. I thought that fetching the Golden Apple and holding it in front of me would remind her of my new commanding of respect. 
It still looks like an improvement in my behavior, and not the Apple, will make my days better at home.

At school, the students have returned.  The routine is back.  The Apple was yesterday.  The gratitude is ongoing.  It's feels stellar and distinguished because it celebrates a job that I love to do! The successes and frustrations, the ease and difficulty, the silliness and restraint, the discipline and compassion, Joe and Lisanne, Lisanne and Joe, all the women, the Beast, the absence of happy dancing, and everything and everyone in the Elementary School...it's all back, it's all good, and I'm ready...