Roots and Wings

September, 1984, with great trepidation, I left David at his first day of nursery school. (Almost) September, 2010, Kevin moved out. That's three years of working on just the roots part, twenty-six years of giving roots and wings and, after 29 years, I think we're completely into joyfully watching our offspring fly from our now empty nest.

As the older, David always was the first to experience new settings: nursery school, elementary school, middle school, music camp, band camp, high school, college, first apartment, first graduations, first full-time employment, and - joyfully - first one married. Being first hasn't always been easy but, in terms of actually leaving the nest, David's post-college transition was somewhat smooth---at least from our point of view. David never really lived at home after sophomore year since he worked on campus and lived in his apartment year round. Post graduation he morphed into full time employment at the university and just moved to a new apartment. There simply wasn't an official moment in which he left home.

Kevin's experience was different. Because his brother paved the way, the nursery school to college continuum was a bit less stressful...except for the first day of first grade which coincided with my first day back at teaching and caused us both major adjustments. Post college, the boy's paths diverged. Kevin attended grad school in Boston but our house was still "home" for vacations. Post grad school brought a busy schedule of free lance music work but circumstances required living at home much of that time. This year brings additional grad work in Chicago, new opportunities, and a new roommate and apartment.

Yesterday, Kevin and his new roommate made multiple trips from our house to the new apartment with enough percussion equipment and personal items to fill a McMansion. Their excitement was so palpable that I could see the "wings" on each of their backs. Kevin is confident that this new grad program will put the last little necessary polishing on his professional skills and that the next move will be to an orchestra position somewhere.

The nursery school the boys attended was named "The Mustard Seed". It's a rather unusual name but how fitting! The tiny "seeds" that attended that school have grown into magnificent trees and we couldn't be prouder and more excited to see what new gifts God has in store for them and us.

If I ruled the travel world....

…airport bathroom stalls would open with the door OUT. Almost everyone is dragging some sort of roller bag these days. When the stall door opens IN, you have to push in your bag(s), enter, twist around and push the bag back towards the door before you can take care of business. When finished, you go through all the gyrations in reverse. This is especially fun when you are traveling in the winter and add a heavy coat to the mix. If doors opened out, entrance and exit would be a snap!

….every airport would have O’Hare’s automatic toilet seat covers. Just run your hand over the sensor and you are rewarded with your own private plastic cover that tightly covers the seat. By the way, those sensors ALWAYS work.

…no airport bathroom would be allowed to have those ridiculous motion sensor towel dispensers. Actually, no place in the world should be allowed to have those ridiculous dispensers.

…any faucets with motion detectors should WORK rather than making the poor traveler stupidly move from one sink to another hoping that one will turn on and rinse the soap off her hands.

Think I spend a lot of time in bathrooms???????? On other topics…

…security would make you PROVE you can use the “expert traveler” line. Perhaps something like my manicurist’s rewards card would work. Each time you go through security without doing anything stupid you get a punch. After ten punches you are allowed into the expert travel line. Anyone who goes through the “expert” line without putting their three-ounce containers of liquid in a one quart bag would be forever banned from expert status.

….airlines would not be allowed to change the time of your flight (barring valid weather or equipment delays) by more than fifteen minutes. This comment just could be related to my spending five hours cooling my heels in Connecticut today after they, for no known reason, changed the flight times sometime between the time I made the reservation months ago and yesterday when they bothered to tell me.

…if the airplane is so small that there are virtually no overhead bins, tell the passengers this WHEN THEY BOOK. That gives the passengers the opportunity to pack appropriately while still at home. Mentioning this FOR THE FIRST TIME while you are boarding the plane just doesn’t cut it! Fortunately I had a giant “purse” into which I could cram my computer, and other priceless items I can’t let ride in the plane’s underbelly.

…put a tazer on each “personal item”. The tazer will go off only if a person tries to put that “personal item “ (read: large computer case) in the overhead bin after already stowing a roller bag. People who have seats at the front of the plane and have to board last get really ticked when they can’t find a space put even a small bag in the overhead bin. One item per person in the overhead bins, people!

…prominently display what eating establishments are located in each concourse. Detroit does this – thank you Detroit! In that airport you can actually plan ahead where you will have your fine dining experience.

…recycle the pop cans and plastic cups used on the airplane.

…eliminate all redundant announcements in the airport. Why oh why does O’Hare tell us over and over again that the security level is orange and remind us to put our three ounce liquids in a one quarter zipper bag AFTER WE HAVE ALREADY GONE THROUGH SECURITY!!

…require that all gate agents speak loudly and slowly enough that we can actually hear what they have to say. Unlike the announcements listed above, we actually need to hear these.

…either provide more leg room on airplanes or make it impossible to recline your seat. Suck it up, people, the person behind you likes to breathe.

…sell de-caf Diet Coke at airports. Nothing like a caffeine buzz when you have to get up at 5:30 the next day.

…provide free wi-fi at the airport.

….imitate Southwest Airlines and put a little humor into the safety announcements. People might actually listen.

…actually use those near-in gates. I believe that all airplanes take off from gate 39Z. Gates 1 and 2 are evidently just for show.

And then there are hotels….

….if you provide a free breakfast buffet (thank you if you do!), please open it at 6:00 for those of us who start our work days really early.

…as silly as it sounds, imitate one hotel chain which provides a multitude of LABELED pillows. Ah, the wonder of finding a soft pillow in a world of hard foam neck twisters.

…provide an alarm clock that is simple to operate. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I can get an alarm to work no more than one out of ten times---and I’m a college graduate! Fortunately, phone alarms are reliable.

…provide an easily accessible outlet next to the bed so that you can charge your phone where you can find it when it rings in the morning.

…provide something in addition to fourteen versions of ESPN and endless expose “real crime” type shows on the TV. Some travelers prefer to veg out to House Hunters or What Not to Wear. (Not me, of course, I’ve heard that OTHERS like those shows.)

….while I’m on the TV topic, get the rest of the country to present shows at the “right” time as we do in the Central Time Zone. Who on earth can stay up until 10:00 p.m. to watch CSI!

And finally, car rental places….

…don’t bother asking us if we want supplemental insurance. Put up a sign saying, “If you are interested in supplementary insurance, just ask.”

…stop the silliness of offering us an upgrade for x amount of dollars. We know you will upgrade for free if you don’t have the size car we reserved.

All the above being said, it’s pretty remarkable that I could leave
Chicago at 6:00 p.m. on Wednesday, sleep in Connecticut, work eight hours, and be back home in Chicago by 10:00 p.m. Thursday.

Beats a wagon train big time!

Oops, just got a text about another flight delay. I’ll be home at 10:30.

I hope.

…

Happy New Year!

I don't care what the calendar says, the new year always begins on the first day of school.

This morning I went to indoor water aerobics for the first time following a wonderful outdoor summer experience. The parking lot was jammed, not by exercisers but with the cars of that school district's teachers who were having their opening day meetings at the middle school next door.

I wanted to be there.

As much as it was painful to get back into the saddle every August, that first day of school for teachers was always exciting, fun, depressing, and scary all at the same time. In the last few years of my teaching career, my school district started with a staff breakfast in one of the elementary school gyms. We junior high people would find each other and hurry to make up tables of "our" people. We'd catch up on who traveled where, who became engaged or was pregnant, whose kids went to what college for the first time, who mysteriously wasn't there.

All too soon they herded us into the auditorium for the opening meeting. Here the junior high teachers appropriated the last three rows, much to the consternation of the front row sitting elementary teachers who seemed to be much more "pleasers" than we were. We'd sit through the introductions of new staff members who were embarrassed to stand in front of all these strangers. We'd sit through the board member's address and that of the superintendent. Usually we then had a keynote speaker - sometimes great, often not - and I'd be embarrassed that my colleagues and I were not always a very receptive audience.

(As someone who now sometimes goes to schools to give seminars during their orientation week, I'm acutely aware of the fact that the teachers are not there by choice! I know they'd much rather be in their classrooms getting ready! Fortunately, foreign language teachers are wonderful people and, in spite of the timing, have been wonderful audiences. I am glad, however, that I don't get evaluated by teachers at the "on-site" seminars. A teacher during orientation week can be dangerous!)

Finally we'd be released to go to our respective buildings for yet more meetings and a PTA sponsored lunch. Here's where things got muddier. We'd hear about what committees had decided what new thing we'd be doing this year. We'd get our schedules and class lists - along with those scary IEP or "504 plan" papers with a "see me" note from the learning resource teacher or counselor. We'd have team meetings and fall right back into our previous patterns of behavior. We'd have an in-service to learn about yet another new grade book program. And then we might get 20 minutes to work in our rooms!

Of course, almost everyone had already spent several days at school during the previous weeks - moving furniture that had been misplaced during the summer cleaning, finding books that had been delivered to the wrong room, decorating bulletin boards, getting a turn at the copy machine with all those first week handouts, and, yes, writing lesson plans.

Not too many professions are blessed with a fresh start every year. I don't think medical people get excited about lining up IV tubing and hypodermic needles in the way that teachers love neatly arranged pencils, clean desks, and orderly stacks of new books. Rod Blagojevich's lawyers don't get a summer break to recover from the trial before moving into the next one. We get to start all over and eternally hope that this year will be the one where we get it completely right!

Teachers in my district start tomorrow. I'll be at lunch with our district's retired group that always meets on the teacher's first day of school. We'll have a nice lunch....but part of each of us misses that newness of the first day of school.

Happy New Year everyone!

A Day in Texas

I just returned from a one-day trip to give a seminar in Texas. A few observations....

• Texas are strong. They put up with 101+º temperatures and high humidity all summer. Their only complaint was that the air-conditioning was set too low in the room.
• Texans care about how they look. Every teacher at yesterday's seminar was well dressed. Women wore attractive summer dresses or well put together capri or dress shorts outfits. All wore dressy sandals. The men all wore collared shirts and pressed pants. Not a flip-flop in sight! I was impressed!
• Texas is growing! This school district has gone from 3 schools to 45 schools in 10 years! They open schools like we open pop cans. I saw building cranes everywhere. Everything looks new....though bald.
  
• This school district really supports its teachers. Every year they provide specific seminars such as mine for each curricular area. They develop the master schedule at each school so that teachers of the same subject/level have common planning time. They encourage collaboration. They provide the technology. Guess what! The teachers were gung-ho! Good stuff!
• The teachers were also thoughtful. After the seminar, the teachers had to stay for an additional hour. When I left, they were all huddled in language groups so actively planning that they didn't even notice me leave. At the end of their required time, however, someone noticed that some projects I had shown had been left on a back table. Someone actually called me immediately and promised to send them to me...and scoffed when I said I'd pay for the postage.
  
• Texas roads are very confusing. They have a system of frontage roads that go alongside every expressway and carry the same name. Each frontage rode is one-way. The GPS never is able to tell you which one you should be on. If you want to make a left turn off of the frontage road, DON'T get in the left lane! The far left lane is only for u-turns onto the other side of the expressway. A left turn is from the second to the left lane.
• Texas toll roads are even more confusing. Both to and from the seminar site I ended up on a new tollway. I drove under the same sort of sensors we have on Illinois toll roads, but never saw a toll booth for those not having the "TollTag". There was no toll booth on the exit ramp. Who knows, maybe I'll get a bill in the mail for $1,000 in unpaid tolls!
• The airport road is yet more confusing. Upon entering DFW airport, I went through a toll booth. I pulled out my wallet expecting to pay, but discovered all I had to do was take a ticket. I then drove seven miles (I'm not exaggerating.) to the rental car return. At the rental car return exit was another toll booth. I pulled in there expecting to finally have to pay something...and was waved through. What am I supposed to do with my little ticket?
• At least in suburban Dallas, Texas is less Texan. I didn't see one cowboy hat or any boots. I didn't hear any "y'alls" and no one called me "Miss Alice", though I was called "Ma'am" more than once....ouch! I still feel like a "Miss".
  
• DFW airport food is bad....but then airport food is bad everywhere.
  
• At least DFW didn't make me go through the whole body scanner like O'Hare did!
  

Sunday Snipets

What's not to love about a pastor who, two weeks in a row, refers to Calvin and Hobbes as part of his sermon!

Why is it not surprising that I spent 45 minutes this morning explaining all about Facebook to my mother? When I showed her postings by my brother, sister-in-law, niece and nephew she was blown away. "You mean I could be in constant contact with all of them if I had one of those devices?" So, who wants to belly up to buy her a smart phone and data plan for her birthday?

How wonderful that Mom is so sharp that she cares about and is interested in what's new in the world around her. How sad that her stroke took away her ability to deal with anything that requires physically manipulating a "device" and/or using math. How thankful we all are that the loss is math rather than cognitive ability!

Mom's not the only funny and sharp person at the nursing home. Her table mate, Sally, couldn't wait to tell me her story. Seems her four-year-old great-granddaughter visited yesterday along with her parents and the family dog. Sally told me that an "elderly" person asked the little girl what breed of dog it was. Now, it's already striking me funny that Sally referred to someone else as "elderly", (after all, Sally is only 90!) but the girl's response is even funnier.

"The dog is Jewish and I am too."

I couldn't resist asking Sally if the dog keeps Kosher. She giggled, but Mom responded, "It would be even funnier if the dog was a dauchshund"

It took me a moment to realize what Mom was getting at.....a Kosher Jewish dog would never eat a wiener!

Happy Sunday!

Beware of condescending to an "almost senior"

While my brother and sister-in-law were visiting here last month, we decided to visit the zoo. My brother approached the young person in the ticket booth and simply said, "Three". After receiving the tickets he realized that, without making any request, he had received two "senior" tickets and one regular ticket. None of us are yet 65. Of course, we laughed about which two of us the young ticket seller deemed to be "seniors".

Yesterday afternoon I found myself unreasonably angry for a couple of hours. I realized my illogical anger was, in part, due to a thread on Facebook. There was a brief message about water aerobics and about ten people commented on it. Maybe two of the commentators have first-hand knowledge of water aerobics, but the others said all sorts of things that showed no accurate understanding of this form of exercise.

Now, I'm an avid fan of water aerobics and have participated in it for at least twenty years. One of the things I really looked forward to in retirement was the ability to exercise in this wonderful way all year long. As with any form of exercise, it's what you put into it that determines what you get out of it. I work really hard in the pool, but I do occasionally see someone who is chatting and just moving a bit. Go to any other type of exercise class and you'll also see some people really working hard and others hardly working.

I think water aerobics gets a bad rap because it probably began in places like Sun City in Arizona where it catered to senior citizens in a hot climate looking for "lite" physical activities. Somehow Grandma Wilhemina, the Sun Citian, was portrayed as"cute" while exercising in the water and the water aerobics "bad rap" began. Adding to the bad image is that it is difficult for a working adult to participate regularly in water aerobics in a colder climate because you need (a) an indoor pool and (b) classes offered at times that fit into a working schedule. Unfortunately it's also true that not all teachers are certified and/or really know how to provide an energetic work-out. Water aerobics is also confused with water therapy classes which are wonderfully designed for people who have bad arthritis or are recovering from joint replacement.

As I "stewed" yesterday, I realized that I wasn't angry about water aerobics per se--although it is misunderstood. I was angry because I perceived ageism in the Facebook comments. Even though we laughed about the zoo tickets, that was also a form of ageism.

I am the oldest you can be to be considered a "baby boomer". Do the math and you'll realize that next February I'll be among the first "boomers" to reach Social Security age.

And, I'm traveling there kicking and screaming.

To me, senior citizens are the elderly people I see at my mother's nursing home. They are also the vibrant, active 80 and 90-year-olds I know who are living independently. They have all taught me incredible lessons in recent years. The most important lesson is how wise they are and how much fun they can be--and how awful it is to treat these vibrant people with condescension.

I've got twenty five years or so until I get to their ages. Maybe then I'll consider myself a senior citizen. And I'm going to fight condescension all the way!

Until then I'm going to pant and sweat my way through water aerobics and, maybe next time I get an unrequested senior discount, I'll give it back.

Maybe.