Oops…where did that week go? It’s been lost in a quicksand pit of chunky vomit…in other words, the pre-season teacher staff meetings have started!
Hard not to be on suicide watch after a day or two of these things.
It’s a spiky gauntlet of “training”, consisting of watching videos intended not to “train”, but to cheerlead teachers into doing something half of them will never do; “discussions”, consisting of yelling, screaming, righteous yelling and screaming, and myriad complaints having nothing to do with the subject under “discussion”; and, “consensus”, consisting of administrators leading “discussions” long enough for the yelling and screaming to finally subside, everyone to quickly forget what was under “discussion” and an eventual under-the-gun decision to be made seconds before necessary implementation of whatever the hell was being discussed weeks and weeks earlier.
Hmmm…that might be the longest sentence in Burque Babble history. The teacher exhibition season has that effect on me. It’s all I can do right now to look beyond tomorrow, the last day of “preparation”, and focus instead on Wednesday, when the kids finally arrive and taking this job starts to make sense again.
But Wednesday morning seems a long, long, long way off this Monday evening. Positively eons away. How about something to pleasantly entertain us away from thoughts of slitting our wrists and using an nuclear weapon whenever the word “consensus” is heard again?
I hear tell it was Buck Owens’ 81st birthday the other day. Good enough for me.
Let’s just put this 1966 TV show appearance by Buck and the Buckeroos doing “My Heart Skips a Beat” on continuous loop for about 36 hours. It’s got Jimmy Dean, a mean Don Rich solo, interesting introductions of the band members and a steel guitar kicker. Yeah, it’s in B&W, so we have to guess which overwhelmingly vivid color Buck’s suit jacket is, but those sequins sure do mess with the 1966 TV cameras, don’t they?
Thanks Mr. Owens, even though you died a few years before your 81st birthday. You and your band live on, helping me dance and smile as I flounder in the chunky vomit of “consensus” a little while longer…I might just make it through exhibition season yet.