Me & Paul Simon

It's been a really long time since I blogged and I apologize for that. So long I wondered what I ought to blog about. The frustrations with school- 12-14 hour days, the horrible stank-ass smell eminating from some of my students, a lack of quality textbooks in the premiere "district" in our area ( and by this I don't mean our books sort of suck, I mean our books are missing sections or are falling apart), or the ubiquitous student apathy. Then during SSR on Friday, I put in Simon & Garfunkel's "Old Friends Live on Stage" and things kind of got better. For those not in the know- SSR is Sustained Silent Reading and means we spend 15 minutes simply reading (it's a real struggle for me- actually it is b/c just when things get good, I have to quit, but I don't bitch!) Anyway, during SSR, I'm listening to Paul & Artie and they open with "Old Friends" from their Bookends album. It's about these two old guys sitting on a park bench in their trench coats- they've shared their whole lives together and now that their lives are nearing the end all they have left to share is their fear of death. I love that song. It's not that I was especially morbid. Quite the contrary (for once). I started thinking about the good things that had happened lately. For instance, we found out recently that L'il Mo is in fact a Mo. (well I suppose Mo could be a Maureen, but in this case, Mo is a Maurice. That's right. The evidence would appear to be incontrovertible. What you're seeing to your left is a bottom view of the fetus to be named later (the nurse has delicately & helpfully labeled the tools of the trade for we the observers). So life is on my mind for that reason and other reasons. Recently, my own old friend Ann had a baby girl. Since she didn't give me permission to release names online and since her old man was partners with Al the Plumber in running the Cosa Nostra in the QC (he had the pizza end of things) I will refrain from mentioning it- but she's a doll and maybe Maurice Rogelio Hieronymous Tecumseh T'ien Chien Shabazz might come a'courtin (his old man likes older wimmins).
But I digress. I think it had been almost two years since Ann & I spoke and yet it was just like picking up that relationship right where we left it and carrying on. In retrospect, it was like that with my friend Billy when he came back from the Marines. I was scared crapless that suddenly our world would be different now that he had actually experienced the world- and battle. Meanwhile, I had experienced college and- well, largely nothing. Beautifully, gracefully, he came back a different, but the same Bill, with our friendship still paramount. We were bookends. Hanging out, just like when were in high school. Listening to that Simon & Garfunkel song brought all these good things/times back. When SSR was over, I told them their teacher was such a dork, he once drove all the way to Kansas City to hear Paul Simon in concert with his friend Margaret; paid extra for seats and we got up and moved to the lawn b/c the hippies were where it was at. A couple of the band geeks humored me by telling me that the band was playing "You Can Call Me Al", but for the most part- for the first time I felt closer to those old dudes on that bench than to the members of my class. I don't know if Paul & Artie were such amazing philosophers or not- but last night Laur and I didn't listen to Hoobastank. We did listen to Nat King Cole though minus his daughter (none of that new stuff for us) Bookends.
pax,
jefe