Sat, 16 Nov 2024, 11:58 AM (-06:00)
Let me just say that I am flattered that you consider me such an integral part of your business that you send me regular updates about what is going on in your world. What new procedures you offer. What new staff you have hired. What kind of software upgrades you have made to your systems.
I suppose in some alternative universe, these things might be … good to know.
But in this universe none of us has the time nor the interest. It is pure noise, and you are training us quite effectively to ignore every single thing we get from you.
Thu, 14 Nov 2024, 07:26 PM (-06:00)
To be fair, Trudy had a point. When she said she didn’t like my hair (her comment wasn’t quite that gentle), I couldn’t really argue, since it had indeed been past time for a hair cut. That was last week. It’s still past time.
So I’m in my classroom this morning as the morning crew starts showing up. There’s a handful of them that come in to just hang out before the day starts, some are students of mine, others are friends and friends of friends.
“Mister Hasan,” one of them said. “Your hair looks good. Did you do something to it?”
Recalling her analysis from last week, I texted Trudy, to relay this alternative viewpoint.
“Just sayin’” I said.
“A third opinion is needed,” she replied.
Moments laster, someone else came into the room, one of the young (female) math teachers. She looked at me from the doorway. “Mr. Hasan,” she said loudly, making sure all the students could hear her. “You’re looking quite dapper today — your hair, and look at that shirt!…”
I relayed this (third) opinion back to Trudy.
“That is so weird,” she said. “I should have gotten a better look at you before you left.”
Um, thank you?
Thu, 7 Nov 2024, 06:14 PM (-06:00)
Well it’s all right. Sometimes you gotta be strong.
Wed, 6 Nov 2024, 06:41 AM (-06:00)
As the sun was setting in the evening yesterday, I wandered among the Cowpen Daisies.
The sunshine. The daisies. The bees and butterflies. That’s all I got.
Sun, 27 Oct 2024, 05:00 PM (-06:00)
Several years ago, I worked with a guy who had every tool and device you’d possibly need in your classroom. He often had several, and he was happy to share.
Ed gave me an HDMI cable once, when I was trying to get a projector to work with my laptop. And he gave me a multimeter which sat unused in a drawer for years so I shared it forward with someone else (and within a week was in our garage wishing I had a multimeter).
Anyway one day several years ago, I was in Ed’s room while he was going thru a box of stuff. He pulled out a fifteen foot Fireware cable and started waxing philosophical about it. I mean, I still have some Firewore drives, still and have saved the cables. So I was on his side. But Ed was really quite animated about this reunion with a long-forgotten friend.
“This is great!” he said, smiling and holding up the cable. He reached around his laptop.
“It’s just great…”
And then he stopped short.
“…except I don’t see that here. They must not make them, anymore.”
It true. They didn’t. Indeed, they hadn’t for quite some time.
So you might be asking, what good is that Firewire drive in the closet going to do me? I’ll go check with Ed.
Tue, 22 Oct 2024, 07:09 AM (-06:00)
The sun was rising on the other side of the city. Rose reflections glimmered in the windows of the skyscrapers. The moon was overhead. The marching band was practicing in the parking lot.
With a button push, the Subaru’s liftgate opened. I walked to the back of the car to fetch my lunchbox and shoulder pack. With another button push, the liftgate closed, and I began to walk into the building.
There’s a turn-around drive on the east side of the high school. Outside of the auditorium. Near what used to be the main doors, before they added the Chemistry wing. Before security protocols changed and the only non-staff entrance was moved to the west side. I stepped off the sidewalk into the drive just as a student was crossing from the other direction.
She was short and had long straight hair. There was a backpack slung over her shoulders. She was looking down at her phone. Then as we approached each other, she looked up.
“Give me a hug,” she said in a matter of fact voice that I could barely hear. She opened out her arms.
I hiked my shoulder pack onto my left side and reached around her with my right arm. She hugged me lightly. I tapped her shoulder with my half-hugging arm. And I chuckled.
“What was that all about?” I asked her.
“You looked like you needed it,” she said. Then she returned to her phone and walked off in the other direction.
Sun, 20 Oct 2024, 02:50 PM (-06:00)
#silentsunday #last-industrious-harvest
