Hail Machiato, Full of Grace

Now I can't stop. Starbucks as religion is too powerful an analogy to walk away from util I pump it dry.

Yes, there is secret knowledge: the terms a real insider uses with facility: double half-caf no-fat mochachino. It's like a foreign language. A Latin Mass that the outsider is confused by.

The servers are priests, that one is simple. Do priests have profit-sharing and 401k accounts? They perform the holy sacrament of Communion. No wafer and cup: it's pastry and paper cup with heat shield. They turn from you after hearing your supplication, and speak to the shiny chrome, brass and stainless steel gods, who dispense their stimulating favors via a mysterious ritual, complete with steamings and strange and practiced motions, passed down from priest to priest.

The hymns are whatever carefully-chosen-by-the-marketing-department jazz, or alternative, or indie (code for "a band no one's ever heard of") music will help create the hip, laid-back, soft-but-edgy atmosphere. True middle of the road, presented as edgy. Right now I'm listening to Sinatra, and the only other person here is a twenty-something college kid who wouldn't be able to give me his fist name (Sinatra's: I'm pretty sure the kid could remember his own name).

I can't think of a more diety-pleasing incense than the aroma of fresh Guatamala Antigua, especially if god is not a Morning Person.

I'll stop before the poor horse is beat to death, but you can fill in whatever other missing pieces as you desire. Overall I think Starbucks outshines IaG as a religious analogy, if only because it's the dominant cultural phenomenon. But IaG is staging it's own little Protestant Reformation, and the whole vibe is significantly different here, although most of the pieces are in place. I actually think IaG has the edge with their over-stuffed high-backed library chairs. Very comfy.

Frother, Spoon & Holy Grind

It's a Grind has me again: hanging out with some time to kill before the football game.

The free wi-fi is great, but I just spent four bucks for an ice-blended mocha (that last sentence is so California). And it's a grande, fer cryin' out loud. Four bucks!

But it's not even a "grande." IaG doesn't speak Italian, so there's no tall, grande, venti. I kind of liked that. I felt knowledgeable, ordering that way. Very Gnostic: a religion with secret knowledge that lets you pass on to the higher levels. Makes me feel superior to know tall, grande, venti. It's a mantra. Say it with me: tall, grande, venti. Tall, grande, venti

But here, it's small/medium/large. How Mc-freaking-Donald's of them. There's no magic there. Anyone can do that, and so I'm not special anymore. Sigh.

I wonder if they use baristas (that's Starbuckese for "priest") behind the counter, or if they are simply servers…

Save a Seat for Me in the Future

So here I am, sitting at It's a Grind coffee shop (free coupon: how could I resist?) updating my classroom website using the free wi-fi (take that, Starbucks: you just lost my sit-n-surf sessions, because you require a not-so-free T-Mobile account. I've been thinking hard about it, and free is better) and adjusting my PowerPoint presentation to give to parents at Back-to-School night in a couple of hours, checking for student e-mail (okay, and seeing if I have any new matches on LonelyHearts.com).

Teaching just ain't what it used to be. Pretty soon students will tele-commute to school from home to get their assignments, while I sit here at the coffee shop all day, over-caffeinating and over-sconing. Naw: the human element will continue. I'm fairly irreplaceable, I figure; at least for the immediate future.

Gotta run: it's going to be coffee, cookies and jazz in my room to welcome parents, and I have to stop by Smart & Final to buy some Columbian Supremo and set up.

All Things Are (Really) New

New school year, new students, but it feels so different this year.

Probably because I'm not up in front of all my classes, because of the presence of the student-teacher.

It is strange sitting at my desk, grading papers or whisper-chatting with the teacher's aide, and passively observing what she's doing. I'm so used to being the person up front. Odd, that.

And my paper load is down 40%, so my weekends are unusually free right now. It's downright luxurious. I'm actually doing household projects on the weekends.

I'm not complaining, it's all good. Student-teacher is good and doesn't need anything more than a little supervision and guidance as she goes, so that's easy. The lighter load just has me off-balance for the semester. Believe me, I'll adapt!

And They're Off!

Wow, another year on it's way!

Too much going on to stop and write: this is just to let anyone who stops by know I'M BACK.

As soon as something happens, you'll be the first to know.

Like a Laser Beam

The Look is an important behavior management tool for both parents and teachers. It's usually very effective, and I like to think I've mastered its nuances. I use it all the time to control student behavior (most communication is non-verbal, we're (ironically) told).

But this fella has it down!, and could stand on my podium and quiet a class with this one move, I'll bet.



If only I had dramatic background music…

The Results Are In

According to mingle2.com. This rating is based on the presence of the words pain (2x) and kill (1x).

See, one doesn't have to be crass, obscene or suggestive to be wildly entertaining!

School's Out

SUMMER

It's arrived, and it's luxurious already.

But I just got my jury summons in the mail.

Oh, well: at least I don't have to leave a lesson plan behind when I go in!

Strikeback

I was fine today until I got up too fast, and a rush of blood went to my head. Now the screwdriver is out, & my right eye is clamped closed against the throbbing. Exhaling intensifies the pain. The same thing happened when I carried two armfuls of groceries up the stairs yesterday.

Thought I was past the danger when I woke up with a clear head.

My Rx is two Tylenol and a glass of Shiraz-Cabernet. Maybe grapes will do the trick.

No 'Grain, No Gain

Another migrane.

Woke up with the dim threat of the approaching storm. Maybe coffee will clear this up.

Nope, here he comes.

This wasn't the fall-on-the-floor, writhe and moan for two hours in a dark room, seeing fireworks explode in my skull and hearing every sound on earth migrane. Those are horrible. This was the farm team: more like someone trying to pry my right eyeball out with a large screwdriver. Tylenol actually provided some palliation, though the demon couldn't be completely exorcised: it must leave of its own accord.

I sat in my livingroom all day with the curtains drawn and tried to get some work and reading done on the computer, getting up every few hours to pop another pair of Tylenol. A kind of uneasy, dug-in, WWI-type war of attrition. He let me see, walk, and think; I recognized his sovereinty over my nervous system and lived in visible fear of a major offensive.

Don't think this was a picnic. When I say "lived in fear of a major offensive," I don't mean to imply that I was distant from the battle No, siree. There was constant sniping and small-caliber gunfire, the ground was constantly vibrating from the mortar shells, and an occasional rocket attack, which felt like an ice pick had been plunged into the top of my head. Try to read the news, or get off the couch with an ice pick in your head. How about a little fire, Scarecrow?

I went outside and drove two blocks to the store about 7PM. Forgot to take sunglasses, and heading west into the sunset was a mistake. In the store, I was glad I had the shopping cart to hold onto after about ten minutes. I was getting a little shaky & shuffled along as if I had an energy-draining flu. I managed. And treated myself with ice cream.

So not debilitating, but still incapacitating to a great degree, and at it for more than twelve hours, which isn't at all unusual. I don't think the pain will keep me from falling asleep, so won't have to stay up most of the night until I'm so pain-exhausted I lose consciousness, and I'm grateful for that. And if I'm fortunate, everything will be rosey by morning. That's good, because I have a lot of papers to grade that I didn't get to today.