jumpingfish

We bumped into each other in the hall. He and I had actually met a few days ago. He smiled at me like he was seeing and good friend.

“Hello!” he said.

He mentioned that he had heard that I might be interested in helping with student council. He nodded understandingly when I confessed to having my hands full for these first few months. Still, he seemed happy at the prospect of having some more help.

We talked about our backgrounds. He mentioned that he had been state president in Indiana. I think he said that was 2002. I told him that I had been a state vice president in Illinois.

“When was that?” he asked. 

I told him. His face didn’t betray a thing when I told him just when that was.

It was time for the annual school district convocation of faculty and staff who converged on the special events center on Friday morning. Breakfast was served, which served to motivate on-time arrival, even though parking was tight. Inside the auditorium, we sat by school, each of us wearing a school-specific T-shirt — ours Crayola Blue with the eagle logo on the front. 

After some preliminaries, the principals and assistant principals lined up on the stage. School by school, they stepped into the spotlight and called to their seated minions who responded with practiced chants.

When our turn came, the drum line stood and hammered out a cadence, and then we started our chant. We were grouped by where we graduated from college: A&M, UT, and others. The chant went like this, with each group standing in turn.

A&M grads: Gig ‘em!
UT grads: Hook ‘em!
everyone: We don’t care. We just want to get ’em there!

And again… 

A&M grads: Gig ‘em!
UT grads: Hook ‘em!
everyone: We don’t care. We just want to get ’em there!

… at which point we all held graduation diplomas up in the air, closing with Eagle Pride, y’all!

There’s this machine in the school office. It laminates things.

I can report that as of this morning, I have laminated many things: two USGS geographical maps of the Copernicus and Kepler craters on the moon, a high resolution photo-poster of the surface of the sun, a cartoonish rocket ship, a drawing of a Mercury capsule, … Many things. Tomorrow I will return for more.

The USGS maps were the first ones, 11×17 prints I made from JPGs I downloaded from the Lunar and Planetary Institute. I fed them into the machine, pushing the leading edges against the drum. And I turned the crank.

The action of the crank was satisfying. It made a gear-ish sound, and the handle vibrated a bit. And with each little pop of the gear-ish machine, a drum turned and a little more of the prints emerged laminated from the other side. When the cranking was done, I cut them from the plastic with a small set of scissors.

During the day, I took five or six other teachers to the office to see this wondrous machine.

“Wondrous?” you might ask. “You don’t get out much, do you?” You might say.

But here’s the thing of it…

This machine doesn’t plug in. There is not ON-button. There is no touch screen to run it. It doesn’t jam. You don’t have to ask for help. It doesn’t have to heat up. It doesn’t have to cool down. And it doesn’t laminate bubbles onto your posters.

Oh my gosh, what a wondrous machine indeed.

“There is an owl in the birdbath outside my window,” I signaled Trudy.

I proceeded to update her on its every move. I was fascinated, since although we’ve had Eastern Screen Owls in our trees for years, I’ve never seen one on the ground. 

The owl hopped out of the birdbath and onto the bench, perching on the lower rung three inches off the ground. I signaled an update. Then it hopped to the other end of the bench, sat there fidgeting for a moment, and then hopped along the ground and into the cluster of Turk’s Cap at the base of the Ash tree. I signaled an update.

From there, it hopped up the Ash, clinging to the trunk. I signaled the updates, but at this point, I knew that something was not right. I went to the front door where I could get a better view. From its spot on the side of the tree, the owl was alternately eyeing the canopy and preening itself. And then suddenly, it turned its head.

With its yellow owl eyes unblinkingly wide open, it looked directly at me. I had made no sound. I hadn’t moved an inch. But it had spied me there, and it was staring me down. 

“Wildlife Rescue!” Trudy signaled me. But it was too late. The owl had already told me. It was hurt. It’s right wing was hurt. It needed help. It couldn’t get back into the tree tops.

I didn’t see Trudy’s signal. I was already walking outside to reconnoiter the situation. As I went around the trunk, I could see that the owl had moved. It was waiting for me, perched on a small log beside the tree. It looked at me. I looked at it. It started clicking. I backed slowly away and went off to get a cat crate that we had found just the previous week.

I came back, crate in hand. The owl was waiting in the same place. It looked up at me with those wide eyes. I opened the crate door and advanced slowly toward the owl, hoping it wouldn’t panic. It didn’t. I pushed the crate opening up against the owl and reached around with my hand and patted it in and closed the door.

As it happens, although Austin Wildlife Rescue is on the other side of town, it is just down the street from where my evening certification class was starting in two hours. So, thirty minutes later, I was driving down the two-rut gravel driveway to Austin Wildlife Rescue. Juan was standing on the porch. He took the crate and went inside. When he came out, he said they didn’t think the wing was broken but that there was definitely a wound that they would treat.

Lucky for that owl that he hopped up to get that drink. Luck for that owl that he knew the man behind that door was just the man to stare at.

They are watching, Jennifer Gonzalez tell us, and she suggests ten ways to lead for the students who are watching us. Number 9 in particular catches my eye: Geek out on the things students think are uncool.

Ok, folks, for all the experience I might lack, for all the attributes that I might need to polish, I’ve got this qualification!