A Day!

The classroom was not dark. Nor was it light. It was awash in florescent green. A particular green peculiar to schools, hospitals and morgues. I had spent the morning coaxing the copy machine to print just one more packet for me. I had ignored the sign that read simply "broken". I thought that we could all wear such a sign and none of us could be accused of hyperbole. Why judge the copy machine for the reality we all share to some degree? But I digress. The copies were made. And now I swam in the sea of green light. I felt myself an educational manatee and the classroom my lagoon.

By 7:40 a few students had dragged themselves like drying snails across the tiles and curled themselves into desks. My extra packets it seemed were not needed. My plans were dashed. Scuttled. Sunk like an anchor torn away and hidden by an autumn storm at the bottom of the green lagoon.

Improvise. I must improvise. I immediately realized that the selfish slothfulness of the many would not imperil the few. Learning would go forth and so I taught. I taught like a ballerina on meth! Dancing ever faster to the harpsichord of history as I wove political cartoons and articles into a comprehensive lesson about the inferno of the Military Industrial Complex and the effects it had on the youth of the 1960's and the counter-culture warriors that would be born from that flame. And for those of you absent I put the articles and the cartoons on the website but I refuse to tell you why. See you Thursday...