jumpingfish

1. Jotting Down Songs

There was a time when I would jot down a song or singer whenever I heard something I liked. Sometimes it was on the last page of the journals I used to keep. Sometimes it was a quickly scribbled note on a notepad. Sometimes it was on the outside of the envelope of some bill that was sitting (likely as yet unpaid) on the kitchen counter.

(Ask the industrious Trudy about the piles of paper that used to sit on my kitchen counter.)

2. Cleaning the Garage

This weekend, we spent a lot of time in the sweltering heat trying to bring some order to the garage. Yes, there was a similar project last summer, but this time we went deeper, tossing ultra-old paperwork that we tentatively retained last year. 

And in some box that had my name on it, in some folder in that box, there was a small pile of jotted down songs. I set them aside with the intent of writing them here and including links to whatever I might be able to find. Mind you, the scribbled notes were often my rendering of whatever it was I heard on the radio. So there was no telling if I’d be able to reconstruct what it was that originally caught my attention.

3. The Jots I Found

Hank Jones. On the outside of an envelope from Johnson Federal Credit Union, I scribbled this: Sara-la. Hank Jones. Mandinko Music. (Africa/Mali) Shake-tidian Sek. Yeah, good luck figuring that one out, I thought. Yet with the help of Duck Duck Go, here is what I found: Hank Jones, Cheick-tidiane seck and the Mandinkas : Sarala.

Bade Ghulam Ali Khan. On envelope sent to me when I rented a house in Clear Lake, I scribbled this: Pak. Quaali Music, Badra Ali Khan. Not as hard to find, except I got the Badra thing incorrect, and I misspelled qawwali. Here is a sample of what I was probably listening to: Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan.

The Iguanas. On the top of a page ripped from a spiral sketchbook was The Iguanas — I move too slow. Ok, that shouldn’t be too hard. But no, I only find a link to the lyrics of their Super Ball album, which includes a song, “I moved too slow”:

I moved too slow
I took my time
I should’ve let you know
But I moved too slow

Perhaps those words resonated with me. (Sounds about right, right Trudy?) Anyway, here’s a link to something else of theirs which probably captures what it was that I liked.

Ramblin Jack Elliott. On that same sketchbook page, there was Ramblin’ Jack Elliot “Friend of Mine”. Evidently that was from the album “Friends of Mine.” Jerry Jeff Walker and Ramblin Jack sing “He Was A Friend of Mine” on that album, a song with an interesting history.

The Mozart Sessions. There were three scribbles on a small sheet of paper torn from a tablet: Chick Corea, Bobby McFarrin, “The Mozart Sessions”. No, those aren’t three separate references, they are a single one, and when I played part of it, I remember how it blew me away.

Ricky Scaggs. On a piece of paper from the Lutheran General Medical Group Family Practice in Park Ridge, where my brother once worked, I scribbled Ricky Scaggs Ancient Tunes (Bluegrass). It was bluegrass alright, a Ricky Scaggs album entitled Ancient Tones (not “tunes”). Walls of Time might have been what caught my attention. 

Mustafa. On that same sheet below Ricky Scaggs I drew a line, and below that I wrote two blanks followed by Mustafa. Fat chance. I’m not even trying to figure that one out.

Martin Sexton. Evidently it was 3:15 on Friday, and I was listening to KPFT. At least that’s what the scribbled note on the back of a LinCom paycheck envelope says. Above it, I wrote Daimler and crossed it out. Then I wrote Dinner and crossed it out. Finally, Diner followed by three dots and My Shiny Shiny Love. Here it is. It makes me smile even now. I mean, who says lyrics need to be profound!?

Diner my shiny shiny shiny love

Chicken ‘n’ biscuits
With a side of gravy (peach cobbler)

Scribble Forensics. That particular note has information that helps me guess what I was doing at the time. If I was working at LinCom, then I was still living in Clear Lake. And if it was 3:15 on Friday, I must have been on my way to the airport to pick up Ben for the weekend (otherwise why wouldn’t I be at work instead of listening to KPFT). Indeed, at the bottom of my scribbles are two URLS written in Ben’s handwriting: www.thislife.org and www.pulcina.org. We must have been on our way home from the airport, listening to This American Life, and I must have asked Ben to jot down the links. Who knows why.

…and now I can toss those pieces of paper into the recycle bin.

As I already said, days and events are jumbled up, but that’s not significant. Let me tell you one more thing about the lessons, and then next time I’ll wrap up this pain-in-the-back story.

1. Grace Over Grades

Our grading philosophy for the last ten weeks of the school year was grace over grades. I am proud to say that our school system explicitly set that as our guiding philosophy for distance learning during the COVID-19 shutdown. Our kids were under a huge amount of stress, and jumping on them about lessons and homework and tests would not have been helpful. So we didn’t.

We weren’t alone in this. Although I heard of many distance learning teachers that did have daily interactive video sessions with the entire class, most of us did not, because many of our kids have no laptops and no internet at home.

In the end, there was much grace dispensed from my grade book. Just today I got a thank you note from one of my students who had expected to fail the class but didn’t, because they were on track to pass originally and … grace over grades.

2. Distance Teaching

Our weekly Algebra 2 lessons mostly consisted of a two sets of notes (PDF files) with several brief videos of me stepping thru the notes (for example, this video) and then some traditional homework, which the kids turned in by snapping pictures of the work they did. The kids didn’t really have to read the notes. All they needed to do was watch me talk about the math — kinda like what we did in the good old days.

Preparing for each week was therefore an exercise in writing up the notes (which used color and cartoons just like in the good old days) and doing about a half-dozen screencasts. To start with, I’d embed a picture-in-picture video of me into each screencast where I’d be talking and making faces. But in the end, I found that doing that only on the intro video made it easier for me to get things done. There’s something about your face showing up on every minute of every screencast that makes it easy to procrastinate. #COVIDhair

You’d have to ask my students, but I think it went pretty well. It was a simple way to deliver the lessons. It allowed them to do all the work on their own schedules. And they still got to see the little cherub face of their teacher at least twice a week, albeit crammed in that picture-in-picture.

However, there was one weekend when I knew I wasn’t going to be able to pull that off.

3. Relying on Khan Academy

I have talked about how there was one night where I burned the midnight oil to pull off those lessons. Not long after that, there was another where it was clear by Sunday morning that things were not going well with my back. There would be no writing of notes. There would be no sitting at the desk making screencasts. I needed another plan.

I used Khan Academy. I have a teacher account there, and I had already assigned some Khan Academy material to my pre-AP students. I figured I could grab some stuff there and maybe from other online sites. I could pull together links to some videos and articles as a substitute for my hand-crafted notes and videos. Indeed, some teachers ran their classes this way the entire time. I started Sunday morning. (No more waiting until after dinner!)

It took almost all day. Because so many videos and articles covered concepts we didn’t. And because of so many (non-Khan Academy) videos were just plain lousy. And finally because of my bed-ridden horizontality with laptop angled toward face as I pecked awkwardly at the keyboard. Still, at 7:00pm, the lessons were ready to post to Google Classroom.

I had found what I needed — collected links, written instructions, and created homework assignments. I was relieved, because I had been running for the cliff again and wasn’t quite sure it was all going to come together. Until it did. And the sun hadn’t even set, yet.

Or at least I think it came together. You’d have to ask the kids. 

I tell this (ok, with a sigh) from what seems ages and ages hence…

1. The Pain

The slightest movement triggered the pain. The. Slightest. Movement. So I lay in bed and didn’t budge. The only exception was when the Fair and Industrious Trudy came in with Ibuprofen and a glass of water.

Just lifting my head to drink the water was excruciating. It wasn’t electric pain. It wasn’t shooting pain. Not sharp. Not tingle-y. Not hot. It was a severe cramp from my back, into my right hip flexors and glutes, down my right quads, and across to the outside of my right shin.

As long as I remained motionless, it went away. Yet it lurked under the surface. Lying in wait. Assaulting me at the slightest movement with a ferocity that I have not encountered before.

Mind you, I am no stranger to pain. I have had… shall we say… several encounters with it. We are well acquainted. But this was different. I was instantly subdued. 

2. Next Week’s Lessons

With time and enough Advil, I figured things would improve over the weekend. I assumed that I’d have time to prepare next week’s distance-learning algebra lessons. But Saturday’s sun rose and set. Saturday night came and went. Sunday morning. Sunday afternoon. 

I was running for the cliff. 

Late Sunday, I began to doubt what was going to happen. The students would be checking Google Classroom tomorrow, but I had not prepared anything. I had had plenty of time to think it thru. I knew what I wanted to cover. But how on earth was I going to pull this off?

Mercifully, late Sunday afternoon I found myself able to sit up after a fashion. So I moved into this room, leaning way back in my chair, trying to stay as straight as possible. And I wrote two lessons worth of notes (with colored pens and cartoon figures and example problems) and two homework sets. I scanned and uploaded everything to Google Classroom, including six short video screencasts of me talking the kids thru the notes.

3. Monday, Monday

Looking back, I’m not sure just how it came together, but it did. The process stretched into the wee hours of Monday morning, with me finally returning to bed at 3:00 in the morning.

So when Monday dawned, the Classrooms were ready, from the READ ME FIRST message at the top with a Monday Morning video greeting, to the check-in and check-out questions, to the lesson videos, and the two homework assignments.

In celebration, I also posted a link of the Mamas and the Papas singing “Monday, Monday”.

In spite of ourselves
We’ll end up a-sittin’ on a rainbow
Against all odds
Honey, we’re the big door prize

     —John Prine 1946-2020

What a big ol’ goofy world.