For an introductory lesson with a new group in one of my classes, I gave the kids a graphic organizer asking them about their families, their favorite subjects in school, their favorite books, their favorite things to do outside of school, and what their goals were. The lesson was flawless. All the students were eager to talk about themselves and to hear a little bit about me. All was fine until the end when one of the boys shared that his goal was to stop picking his nose. I expected to hear a chorus of "Ewww!" after this one. Instead, the rest of the group showed him some support by saying, " Yea, that's a good one for you!" Then one of the group members looked at me and stated, "He really does need to make that his goal!" It just proves to me that even after fifteen years of being an at-home Dad to four kids of my own, and equal time in the education system, when I'm with kids, I need to expect the honest to goodness unexpected!
Okay....I have succumed to the higher power of blogging. I am not a good orator. My lack of spontaneity when I speak is frustrating because I have years worth of anecdotes and observations after decades of being a husband, father, son, brother, uncle, educator, human being...the list goes on. I hope to fill this page with memories in the way of humor and inspiration. I hope you will find it entertaining....
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Saturday, September 28, 2013
Tales of Old
I've been feeling real good lately. Energetic. Confident. Accomplishing. Young. Much younger than my 56 and a half years.
Last night Jackie and I went out to dinner with our forever young 93-year-old Aunt Rose.
When we returned to her independent living facility, her group of friends were gathered in the lobby talking as they do every night. They knew us and greeted us with smiles and hugs, and we reminisced about my Mom, who had lived there, and was loved and missed by the gang, and then we gave updates on our children.
As we boasted of their accomplishments, a dear lady in the group named Loretta turned to one of the new friends in the group and said, "You should see the artwork his daughter does. She is SO talented!"
I was confused for a moment thinking that my daughter Karen doesn't display her artwork, then realized what this lady was thinking. "That's my sister Lisa!" I dejectedly answered.
"Your sister! She looks so young! Her work is beautiful!"
I agreed and made sure she knew that Lisa is PAST 50, and indeed looks young, and is indeed talented!
This week marked the first of the standardized tests given to our students for the school year. I was in charge of administering the assessment to three boys from several classrooms, and I needed to keep them under my wing until their classes were finished the testing.
The first minutes after mine were finished were spent unwinding, chatting and looking at an enormous sea creature collection in the classroom. Then they wanted to draw. I saw no harm in letting them express themselves on paper for a few minutes. One youngster was bragging about how good he was at drawing portraits and asked one of his friends if he could draw him. He could and he did. His classmate asked, "Why don't you draw Mr. Bonanno now?!"
"Naa...I can't. Old people are too hard to draw." I didn't even ask what he meant by that, and those were long final minutes.
That is all......
Saturday, September 14, 2013
That Moment When.....
That moment when the curser on the computer at the office wouldn't stop moving with this mark (`) replacing my neatly and accurately typed book information on
the database for our rotating library. I panicked, cursed under my breath, saved and closed the document, reopened it, and soon book titles, authors, and reading levels were looking like this (`````````````````````). I cursed under my breath again, saved it again, and called my lovely supervisor over to marvel at the antics of my computer. She didn't say a word, she just smiled and removed the book that was resting on the apostrophe key on the keyboard, and returned to her own task.
the database for our rotating library. I panicked, cursed under my breath, saved and closed the document, reopened it, and soon book titles, authors, and reading levels were looking like this (`````````````````````). I cursed under my breath again, saved it again, and called my lovely supervisor over to marvel at the antics of my computer. She didn't say a word, she just smiled and removed the book that was resting on the apostrophe key on the keyboard, and returned to her own task.
That moment when I relayed a message to my wife saying that our son will get a Medal of Commendation for services performed at one of the Air National Guard bases at which he has been employed. I inadvertently referred to the honor as a Medal of Condemnation, causing momentary hysteria and raised eyebrows.
That moment when my previously mentioned supervisor, the reading specialist, places a pile of six books with a post-it note attached asking for one copy of each book to be sent to another building in the school district. Being a results-oriented kind of guy, I immediately placed the books and post-it note in a box and shipped them, only to find out that the boss wanted the books copied and sent to the other building. I felt defeated until I found out that the folks in the other building saw the books and the note and, without question. made all the copies.
That moment when a coworker who had a medical emergency in her family sent me an update on the situation. I have a new phone and haven't figured out how to turn down the volume of the 'message received' tones. The gal sent via text message an email she'd sent to her daughter. It came through on my phone in the form of eleven text messages, each forcing my phone to emit that ungodly sound one hears when receiving a new text message. My coworkers were glad to get the update, but
weren't pleased or impressed with my new phone.
That moment when I was paying my respects to my Mother's cousin's family for yet another funeral. In the celebration pamphlet for dear Carmela was a photo display. In the bottom right corner was another treasure uncovered in the form of a picture of Carmela, my Mom, and my sister Janet. I narrowed the location of the photo to Our Lady of Fatima church in Secane, and since Carmela was my little sister Lisa's Godmother, I assumed that she was at our church for Lisa's First Communion. Janet had a hairstyle in the photo that gals wore to proms in that era. Both the prom and the Communion would have taken place in May of 1967. Little did Carmela's family know that when they paid tribute to their Mom, they warmed my heart by including Janet and Mom in their treasured memorial. I would like to think that they're all standing together and smiling right now.
Whether it's a moment of senior-itis, word jumbles, phone phobia, or tribute, I am glad that in the long run I can appreciate that moment when.........
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