Dodo Eggs

Bits of wisdom lay about his world like the pennies on convenience store parking lots.  People, knowingly or not, cast them here and there so the prudent can pick them up.  Of course, wisdom has pluses that make it substantially worth more (and fewer germs).  Here’s a few I’ve picked up…

>>> The last time I wanted to install some hardwood in my home I rented a nail gun that required an air compressor.  Instead of renting that too, I knew a handyman that had a couple and without thinking, I asked him if I could borrow one.

“Matt,” he replied.  “You never ask a man to borrow anything he uses to make a living.”

>>> I finally discovered what separates those with a J-O-B and those who make the best employees.  One of the special education teachers I work with signed up for an inclusion conference to “advance her knowledge of her given field.”  I signed up just to get a day out of the classroom.  Good News….we both got what we wanted!

However, our conversation stuck with me.  She wanted to improve her ability to instruct children – a task I was trying to get out of doing.  Like a bolt of lightning, I suddenly understood what separated me from a good employee.  Good employees do two things: they sweat the details and they work to get better at what they do.

How wonderful to have an occupation that makes you care that much.  I wish I did.

>>> The Teply residence was out of mayo and I had just opened a can of tuna.  In college, I would eat tuna straight from the can but those days were well behind me.  I looked at the pinkish/gray flesh and wondered what I would need to do to salvage the meal.

“What could I substitute for mayo?” I sifted through the condiments in the refrigerator door .  “Uh, catchup, mustered, sour cream….I don’t think so.”

Then I saw the Italian dressing and I was hit with inspiration.  I enjoy Italian dressing and I love tuna…Italian is zesty and tuna can be plain…Italian is oil based and tuna is often sold in oil.  The idea wasn’t as crazy as it sounds right away!

I dumped the dressing on the tuna and took a bite eager to discover the dynamic new taste I’d unearthed.  Instead I wound up pealing the top off the roof of my mouth.  I tried offering the tainted tuna to the cat…two sniffs and its whiskers fell off.

Melissa would later advise me, “Good cooks have intuition.  They know what works, might work, and what should never see the same bowl.  You might get there someday but for now stick with cold cereal.”

I picked up a People magazine and on the cover was a couple named the Duggins.  I don’t know anything about these folks other than they could use a little more sun and they have nineteen children.  Nineteen children?!  Are they assembling an army to conquer Luxembourg or planning to start their own circus?

After thinking about it for a while, I now realize there are A LOT of great reasons for having nineteen kids.  You can get by with a ton of unthinkable things and with nineteen kids people would understand.   
 - Accidentally leaving a kid at the zoo.  Instead of calling DHS, zoo employees would say, “Hey, it’s OK!  Eighteen out of nineteen isn’t bad!”

 - You always have leftover birthday cake in the house.  That’s a big plus…sign me up for a couple of extra kids!

 - Everyone should know how to use an outhouse.  With nineteen kids you’ll have a good reason to dig several.

 - Kids today are told they are special without having to prove it.  When your drowning in people that look just like you…well…you get to prove it!

So having nineteen kids makes perfect sense but what I don’t understand is how you can show each child the personal attention that they need.  I have one son and one daughter – I could shower them with constant attention and they wouldn’t get enough.  There is no limit to the investment I could make in each of them. 

How do you love a child individually when there are so many?  Some may argue that it depends on the parents.  I disagree.  Some parents are more enthusiastic than others, but all parents – good or bad – have to deal with this fact….there are only twenty four hours in a day.  Once you carve out the necessities of life, there may be five hours (or less!) to plug into your children.  Now that I have two children it’s hard for me to imagine having four and still having time to focus on each one.

A friend of mine grew up in a family of nine.  He told me that when you grow up in a large family you really don’t connect with your parents as much as you do with your older siblings.  The older children become something like surrogate parents.  Even when you get older, you talk to your parents when you can but it’s those older siblings that shape your childhood.

That’s not my idea of being a parent.  Opinions are worth the vapor their made from but here’s mine – I have a hard time seeing a parent of more than five (six?) children without handing over some of the responsibilities to others be they extended family or older children.  It’s my desire that Saul, Olivia, and whoever else has memories built from time not only with the entire family – but alone with me…you know…their father.

Dichotomy- “Being of two parts.  Having dual thinking…”

This definition may be the perfect way to describe American’s feelings toward their politicians.  Opinion polls consistently find good approval for the representatives of your district or state but a poor regard for the Congress as a whole…and EVERYONE feels this way.  So when you’re sitting at home complaining about Congress and the homers every other state is sending to Washington, your neighbor across the state line is wondering the same thing about you!  This development isn’t a complete surprise after all; each member of Congress is, in theory, beholden to the people of his own district.  He/she isn’t necessarily trying to impress those who will never cast a vote on their behalf.

To remedy this I have cobbled together a powerful set of suggestions that I firmly believe will set you on a course to nationwide acceptance.  In fact, using my techniques I can almost guarantee that even though some people will disagree with your take on the issues…they will at least avoid shading you as just another politician.  Take my word on this then HIRE me as a consultant (pay and perks to be discussed later).

Step One – Rediscover the art of saying nothing.

Why in the name of Calvin Coolidge are you forced to give an answer to every question you’re asked.  Make your words count!  It’s easy to tell when a political leader doesn’t have an answer.  He will start yapping about something else entirely for at least thirty seconds (the time it takes for most people to forget the question) then stop and act like his answer was clear.  Let ME be clear…Your answer was wasted air and all the words you just wasted will go a long way to drowning out the clear responses you want people to hear.

Of course if he has an answer but doesn’t want to use it, then we are subjected to a repeat of something he’s said earlier.  He may begin with, “As I’ve previously stated…” or “Let me regurgitate – I mean reiterate – what I’ve said before.”

How about this…”I’m not addressing that issue right now.” or the classic, “No comment, next question please.”  I know the second quote makes you seem a bit dodgy but not HALF as much as blabbing your way around a question.

Step Two – Refuse to use (or overuse) statistics.

Thanks to the wonders of photo shop programs the camera can now lie and we have number wonks that can make statistics do the same thing.  Take ANY issue and ask each side to find “hard data” to back up their positions.  What are the chances that one side will return and confess, “You know what…we got nothing.”

No one trusts statistics any more.  The first thing that goes through my head when I hear politicians use them is, “What hidden variable are they neglecting to tell us?”

Here’s the idea.  Because people are skeptical of statistics, refrain from using them.  Say things that the average listener will remember. No one remembers all the numbers politicians throw out.  Make concrete statements about your placement on the issues.  And if your opponent is throwing out numbers that are cooked, say so.  Post debunks on your website or offer them in your next interview…it’s a good way to discredit him.

(My head splits completely in two when I hear that a new program is completely paid for only to find out later that it is coming from “future savings” or “projected budget surpluses.”  Does anyone else hear Wimpy from the Popeye cartoons saying, “I’ll gladly pay you a dollar tomorrow for a hamburger today.”  It’s worth noting that I’ve never seen Wimpy offer Popeye a dime.)

Step Three – Give the vote back to the People

I know this will sound revolutionary but I’m confident it will work.  Pull the latest entitlement program or tax cut out of your platform and offer the American People their vote back!

Abortion, gay marriage, marijuana, school bussing, even allowing folks to text while driving should all be left for the states to decide.  Wouldn’t it be crazy if the citizens of each state voted on their own laws?  You know, give the people their votes back.  Currently some of our congressmen are working a law to make texting while driving illegal by a federal government mandate…and states can’t handle this?  What part of the constitution mentions abortion?  It doesn’t…which means a high school government class means more than the law degrees and experience of nearly half our Supreme Court justices!

Instead of doing what many of our politicians perform so well (creating mandates) offer the people the option of ruling themselves.

Hair (check), suit (check), evasive answers (check), long worn policies (check), sloppy stats (check)…

Professor Forsythe scratches he beard even though it doesn’t itch.  It’s a compulsive habit akin to others rubbing their hands, adjusting their glasses, or stress sweating.  The late summer heat has forced him into a nice floral polo instead of his usual suit coat and slacks.  He knows he looks less intellectual and authoritative which only makes him scratch his beard all the more. 

His class is a collection of impassive youths looking only for some easy credit and nothing more.  For some reason they resent him for his eight o’clock class even though they are the ones who signed up for it.  Forsythe takes another quick look at his notes and right there decides to teach them anyway.

“Ok, let’s begin with trust because you can’t be an effective source of information unless those who are listening trust you.  I am correct in this.  Now you trust someone when you understand their motivation – where they’re coming from. 

For example, when you go out to eat with your mother and she offers to pay, you don’t think a thing of it.  You trust her because you know she loves you and wants to see you feed.  You understand her motivation.  Now if you go out to eat with your roommate and he offers to pay for the meal; you’re curious.  You think, ‘What in the #$%!!!$% is this joker doing trying to pay for my deep fried apple pie?”

Forsythe waits for chuckles…nothing.

“Anyway, you don’t trust your roommate because you don’t understand his motivation.  You want to know what’s going on behind the curtain.  You see, trust is when you understand what motivates a person.  When you have a good idea what’s going on inside the other person’s brain, only then are you at ease.”

The professor flips to the second page of his notes.  “Let’s jump to the media.  People claim that there is bias in the media and they’re right.  It’s professional for journalists to just state the facts but it’s impossible for journalists to completely unplug their own opinions about the situation.  Do you honestly believe that those that own media outlets and those that craft the message do nothing to shade their own point of view?  I don’t believe it and neither should you.

“I was listening to public radio on the way to class today.  Now I believe that public radio leans left.  Can I prove it?  No, but listen to this…I could make a case that it has a liberal bias based on a lot of coincidental evidence but there is no way on God’s green earth I could make a case for it drifting right.  Do you see what I mean?  I take everything they say with a grain of salt because I don’t trust them.  I can’t be sure where they’re coming from especially since Bush spent his term in office trying to nix their funding and Obama solidified it.  Which way would you shade?”

It’s difficult to tell if any of the young people are listening.  Forsythe is sure some of them are hiding their tiny earphones under their ridiculously long hair. 

“Here’s the solution.  I also listen to conservative talk radio.  I find it much easier to listen to because they make no bones about where they’re coming from!  There’s no subversion there.  They freely admit – no proclaim – that they ride the right wing.  It’s informative AND interesting!  Some of you may tap into liberal blogs.  Hey, you may not be able to trust the all the facts but at least you know where they writer is coming from.”

The professor stops to accentuate his point.  “The idea of an unbiased media is a noble one but it’s much like a utopia – it doesn’t exist and never will.  If you want balance, shouldn’t you take your news from multiple sources?  You know, hear both arguments?”

A cell phone goes off and the kids begin shuffling out.  The classroom quickly grows quiet. 
“Maybe I’ll do something useful today.”  Forsythe says to himself.  “I think I’ll dye my beard to match my favorite suit coat.”

Nichole wanders into the guard break room at the pool in a bit of a huff.  “Uh, hello Mr. T.  How are you?”

I look up from a pool supply catalog (sixty pound bucket of chlorine briquettes for a hundred bucks…HOLY COW!…whew, that sump pump has some nice curves.).  “Well, hello Nichole.  You don’t sound very good what’s the problem?  As if I care.”

She sets her purse down and immediately pulls out her cell phone.  “It’s comical really.  My friends showed up at my apartment last night to stage some sort of friend intervention.”

“A friend intervention?  Why, because you’re huffing furniture polish or what?”

She’s already texting someone.  “No, they were just concerned about the health of our friendship.  I laughed through it really.  It was hard to take seriously.  But the real issue was them coming to the outdoor pool while I was on the stand, going into the break room, and taking my car keys.  They went through my car looking for something.”

“Uh…ok.”  There was really only one way to respond.  “You need to move away.  That’s what I would do.”

Nichole’s phone beeps indicating a new text message.  “Very funny, Mr. T.”

As the Internet and especially the cell phone work to connect society at the hip, a dangerous development has occured.  Drama queens and kings can now ramp up their dalliances like electrons in a particle accelerator.   There’s never an opportunity for the worked up parties to go to their corners and take a quick break.

Here are a few simple steps to breaking the hold “drama” may have on you…

Step One – Graduate From High School

Responsibilities are the natural cure for drama and we all know how responsible high schoolers are.  If you’re busy with the things that matter in life (NOT zits, prom, algebra), then there’s precious little room for drama.  In short, “Get a post high school life.”  NOTE: Sororities and/or fraternities retard this development.

Step Two – Take A Powerful Disinterest In Other People

Hey kids!  The phrase, “I don’t care” that you use so deftly with your parents and teachers also works on Sally’s opinion of Bobby Joe’s new hairdo.  If you must comment, just keep it dull or positive…people will tire of asking you.

Step Three – Get Rid Of The Cell Phone

You can live without it.  You can live without it.  You can live without it.  You can live without it. 

Also, take the four hundred dollars your spending on whatever plan you have and dump the money into ice cream.  Trust me…you won’t regret it.

Step Four – Move Away

Really, I wasn’t kidding.  It’s like hitting the reset button.  Try it sometime.

You’ve heard it before, “I’m a people person…I just like people.”  Some folks admit this during a job interview as if it were some sort of skill.

Interviewee:  “Yea, I went to Oxford and majored in People Studies.  You know, I saw a lot of them growing up and I thought, ‘That’s what I want to do.  Figure out what it’s like to be a person.’   I used to catch young ones and stick them into a refrigerator box.  You know, we’ve all done it.  I tried to take care of them but my father eventually made me let them go free.  I’m a people person…you know…I just like people.”

Potential Employer:  “Well, in Women’s Studies you’re major would be more rounded.”

There are benefits to being a “People Person” (henceforth referred to as a PeePer).  Each personal contact for a PeePer is a potential resource.  If you need a deal on a used car, a PeePer knows someone who can get you a deal.  Peepers are never without a date book thick with parties and coming events.  Peepers are never unemployed long because one of their friends knows someone who is hiring. 

I would not be considered a PeePer.  In fact, I usually couldn’t care less about you.  I’ve been attending my current church for five years and I’ve just learned half the names.  When people begin conversations with, “I…” a dull usually settles over my face.

Test for Being a People Person or “PeePer.”

1-  Do you bump into folks you know in restaurants or stores?
10 pts.  Often    
7 pts.  Sometimes  
4 pts.  Rarely  
1 pt.  I know the waiter’s name

2-   When you need to move there are ___________ people you can ask.
 10 pts.  Five or More   
7 pts.  Three or Four  
4 pts.  Two or Less 
1 pt.  Homeless

3- How many neighbors are you on “wave hi” basis with?
10 pts.  Five or More   
7 pts.  Three or Four  
4 pts. One or Two
1 pt.   My Neighbors Carry Disease

4- How many people attended your wedding (if single, guesstimate)?
10 pts.  Over 200
7 pts.  Between 100 – 200  
4 pts. Less than 100
1 pt. We Got Everyone in the Wedding Album!

5- When was the last time you made a new friend?
10 pts.  Last Week   
7 pts.  Within the Last Month  
4 pts. Within the Last Year
1 pt.   Do Online Friends Count?

6- How often do you eat with your coworkers?
10 pts. Four or  Five Days a Week 
7 pts.  Two or Three Days a Week
4 pts. Once a Week
1 pt.   I read blogs during lunch

7-  How many Degrees are you from Kevin Bacon?
 10 pts.  I can get to Him Several Different Ways
 7 pts. Within Seven
 4 pts.  “How the Heck should I know?!”
 1 pt. “I know someone with red hair.”

8- How many folks from High School do you keep up with?
 10 pts. Five or More
 7 pts. Three or Four
 4 pts.  One or Two
 1 pt. “I’ve still got my yearbook…someplace.”

9- How many Super Bowl Parties do you have the option of attending?
 10 pts.  Four or More
 7 pts. Two or Three
 4 pts.  “One, but that’s ok.”
 1 pt. “By Myself I don’t have to Share the Chips.”

10-  Be Honest, what is Your Attitude about the People Around You?
 10 pts.  Everyone has a Story!
 7 pts.    Meeting New People is Generally Pleasant.
 4 pts.  I’m Suspicious of Strangers
 1 pt. Don’t They Have Family They Can Bother?

Peeper Scale  

70 to 100 – “Yo, I’m definitely a PeePer!”

40 to 69   -  “I’m generally nice to just the good looking folks.”

 10 to 39   -  “If everyone was just like me that would be cool.”

0 to 10      -  “I invented the Pet Rock.”

The scene: A psychiatrist’s office.  Matt Teply is reclining on a plush leather sofa.  His eyes wander the textured ceiling.  Amidst the specks of ceiling paint he looks for shapes and faces.  So far, he’s found three Virgin Marys and a Tyrannosaurs Rex. 

A tall bald man with wire-rimmed glasses sits in a swivel chair taking notes on a legal pad.  There’s a bowl of mixed nuts on a small end table.  He appears to like nuts.

Shrink: Ok, let’s get started. (bumps up glasses with index finger)  You’re here because you’ve lost patience with mankind.  You explode into episodes of quiet mental torment whenever you hear certain phrases used.  Hmmmm, quiet explosions, eh?  This is fascinating.  Tell me, what makes you think anyone cares what you think?  Was it your mother?  (rubs chin)   

Matt:  I kinda thought saying they were quiet explosions gave it a sleeping intensity…you know what I mean?

Shrink:  No.  (snaps his suspenders with his thumb)  Ok, this may sound a bit radical but why don’t you go ahead and tell me about it.

Matt: (nods vigorously) Sure.  People keep using phrases that absolutely drive me insane! 

Shrink:  Can you give me an example?

Matt:  When someone begins a sentence with, “I deserve…” it really doesn’t matter what comes next I’m probably not going to like it.  (lifts his hands toward the ceiling)  I mean, what do we really deserve anyway?  Is there a chart out there that shows which experiences or accomplishments result in you deserving this or that?

Shrink:  (taps his gold plated pen against his memo pad and honestly believes he deserved platinum.)  Matt, I suppose it’s a matter of personal estimation.  It’s like rewarding yourself for a job well done.

Matt:  Really?  Should we allow folks to make judgments on their own work?  Don’t you see a conflict of interest here?  I mean Lil’Bling decides he deserves a two-week vacation because his rap album sold thirty-four million copies.  How did he get that number?  Did he not work hard enough for three weeks?  

Shrink:  What are you some sort of hater?

Matt:  (flashing gang signs) Dude, I’m on the down low.  But when you say, deserve something, your surgically removing any link to an important trait, gratitude.  In other words, I deserve this so why should I be grateful to have it?  (begins showing signs of anger)  After all, I DESERVE THIS!

Shrink:  All right, let’s just calm down.  (looks at the clock and winces – there’s still a lot of time left)  So, what do people deserve?

Matt:  How should I know?!  Considering the way many people in the world are forced to live you’d think everything we enjoy would be flavored with a pinch of gratitude, anything else just comes across as arrogant.

Shrink:  Ok, this is something that is out of your control.  What is in your control, especially after help from my prescription pad, is your anti-social, compulsively idealistic, psycho-sclerosis.  (takes a walnut and cracks it open)  Is there anything else that bothers you so?

Matt: (heavy sigh) Yes, I despise it when someone says, “I have no regrets” at the conclusion of something that obviously didn’t work out right.  C’mon!  Nobody passes a test and walks away saying, “I did my best.  No regrets.”  If everything had worked out perfectly, someone would never add, “No regrets.”  I mean, am I wrong here? 

If you messed up, then you should have regrets!!  (fists are clenched)  Small ones or big ones take your pick but I know they’re there!! 

Shrink:  Hmmm, this is a problem.  (admires the grapevine he’s doodling across the top of his paper)   You know there’s a forum for pointless harangues that my suit you perfectly.   Have you ever considered blogging?

Reader Advisement – All of the following names are actual names.  No stunt names were used for this post.

I’m sitting in the aquatics office at the recreation center filling out my time sheet for the week.  College age kids surround me yapping about the important activities on their social slate.  I’m eavesdropping as I fill out my timesheet.  I guess I’m a little jealous of the flexibility they still enjoy.

Megan is speaking to Forrest.  “So Trebor said she’d come Saturday but only if one of her boyfriends isn’t too hungover.  Anyway, it’s a fifty/fifty shot then.”

Forrest’s expression doesn’t change.  “The Saturday after student loan checks come in?  Don’t bet on it.  The chances are a little closer to, uh, seventy/forty.”

I raised my head.  Slang may have far outpaced me but I thought we still used female pronouns with females.  “Are you guys talking about a girl or guy here?  Trebor is a man right?”

“No Mr.T it’s a girl.  Her name is Trebor Atkins.  She is a member of our sorority.”

I spoke slower.  “Trebor is a girl.”

“Yes, Mr.T.”  Megan rolls her eyes.  “Now if you’ll excuse me, I haven’t texted anyone in the last ten minutes and I think my thumbs are going through withdrawal.”

This got me thinking…

Why do many people insist on creating their own names?   Don’t we have plenty of good ones to chose from?  Giving your child a far out name to make them unique is a little like giving them a third eye to accomplish the same purpose.  Their name makes them unique in the same way freak show exhibits are unique. 

Listen to this…Kids will make themselves unique on their own! 

This doesn’t stop new parents from acting a little like Dr. Frankenstein with a table full of dead syllables and prefixes.  The worst example I’ve ever come across was a girl named Ja-a.  Confused?  It’s pronounced Ja-dash-a.  You know, Jadasha only spelled Ja-a.  GOOD LUCK KID! 

Let’s hope her middle name isn’t Dumb*.
 
Hey, what do you think of the following?  “La-David” for when David is just too normal.  “Tyquasia” which is Swahili for “typhoon-hitting-Asia.”  The only thing I know for sure about the next name is that you won’t find it on any gift store coffee mug.  Ladies and gentleman let me introduce you to…”Walshaude”  (I think I just broke spell check.)

Here’s a situation that I may never get over.  There is a group of six children that come to the pool often.  All have the same mother but Father’s Day requires them to go over their monthly minutes.  This means they almost all have different last names.  To help bind her genetically diverse family together, this mother gave all of her children’s names the same prefix!  Holy cow that’s genius!

Here we go…Quad-Shawn, Quad-Shay, Quad-Lawrence, Quad-Rick, Quad-Tavious, and Quad-Esha.  To be honest, I have no idea whether the dashes are in there or not.  Maybe we should ask Ja-a?

Fine, here’s one more story.  Sometime ago Brother Teply worked at a Wendy’s.  One of his coworkers was a girl named Tyrani.  Don’t work too hard.  It’s pronounced tyranny.

My brother addresses his coworker.  “So, why did your parents name you after a repressive form of government?  Do you have a brother named Despotism?”

She gives Brother Teply a confused look.  “What are you talking about?  My mother came up with my name.”

Need I say more?

It’s one of my worst nightmares.  I’m sitting in the middle of a large auditorium surrounded on every side by chattering, joking, and obnoxious middle school students.  There are limited exits and if they wanted to, these uncouth hooligans could swallow me before reaching one.  The throng is loud, rude, and out of dress code!  And the worst of it…I am chained to my seat not by braided loops of iron but by a device far more sinister…I was at work.

The students and staff at Clownsworth Middle School are assembled to hear a special guest speaker.  Information the faculty received boasted about Dr. Nancy Hooping-Blather.  She was the mother of a famous athlete and she busied herself by touring as a motivational speaker.  She wore the ever-professional female suit and was introduced by a stunning audio-visual presentation.  (As soon as the tech folks at school could get it started for her…oops.)

“So,” I mumbled to the teacher beside me.  “So, she keeps referring to herself as Doctor Hooping-Blather.  But what is her degree in?  Do you know?”

“Well, it’s an honorary degree.”

“And it’s supposed to carry as much weight as someone who’s actually earned their doctorate?”

“Yes, she’s Dr. Nancy Hooping-Blather.  Didn’t you see her business cards and name tag?”

One of my eyes narrowed a bit perfecting the disgusted/discounting expression.  “Then how about we call her Honorary Doctor and make it an abbreviation before her name like, say…Ho. Nancy?”

“That just won’t catch on.”

Dr. Hooping-Blather’s discourse on making proper choices and directing one’s life was good, but I was still stuck on the honorary degree.  Afterward, I went to the good Doctor’s homepage to find out that other than her honorary degree, she’d never received anything other than her high school diploma!  This needed to be addressed.  Behold…

THE RULES FOR HONORARY DEGREES

Rule #1- Any honorary degree you receive only promotes you ONE level.  In other words, if you have a bachelor’s the only honorary degree you can receive would be a master’s.  If you have never set foot in a college classroom, then the generous institution may give you an honorary bachelor’s. 

Rule #2- You may only receive ONE honorary degree during your lifetime.

Rule #3 (Just because) – You must write a five page paper (due before Spring Break) on why it is important for everyone to call those who’ve earned the highest degree to be called Doctor So-And-So.  

The pile of report cards sat on the table and I began to leaf through them.  “Marisa York…looks like she’ll pass with mostly Bs.  Stacy Dreyfuss (I cringe)…one F and the rest are low Cs.  I guess she’ll pass.”

Then I come upon Lamar Williamson’s report card.  “Eeeeow.”  I knew it was going to be bad but I was unprepared for the true damage.  “Let’s see, four Fs and one D.  But it looks like he passed art during the second six weeks.  The final exam must be finger painting.”

Lamar isn’t really that dumb.  The hamster does turn the exercise wheel just not very fast.  I gave his math grades a much closer examination.  “Sixty for the first six weeks.  Sixty-two was earned for the second six weeks.  Another sixty shows up before Christmas. And so it goes.”

I look up and speak directly to the teacher across the table from me.  She’s examining report cards for failing students as well.  “Mrs. Motter, do you have any idea how Lamar has done this year?”

She rolls her eyes.  “Well, that kind of question really wouldn’t tax my psychic powers.  Why don’t you try something a bit harder?”

“He hasn’t come even close to passing at any point this year.”  I waved the paper in front of her.  “I’m not shocked either but every now and then I did catch him dulling his pencil on paper.  Why haven’t we heard from his parents?”

“Don’t you know?  Now-a-days it’s our responsibility.”

“Quit toying with me for a minute.  The parents see the report card and notice that by winter break their son has earned three solid Fs.  Don’t you do something about it?  Why not schedule a conference to talk to the teachers about it?”

Mr. Young, who was sitting down the table from me, spoke up.  “A lot of the time they don’t see them.  I’ve had parents come up on the last day of school and claim that they had no idea their kid was failing!  When we ask them if they’d seen their kid’s report cards, they say they had no idea when they came out!  I’m not kidding here!”

My eyes narrowed.  “What?  That’s the absolute dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.  It’s April folks!  We’ve been in school for ten months!  We’ve issued a report card!  Hey, sometime during supper ask!  Aren’t these folks even the least bit curious?!  If you love your child at all, wouldn’t you at least try to do something?”

Mrs. Motter spoke up again.  “Lamar has two older brothers who are in jail.  I think the parents are only here to breed inmates for us.”

That surprised me.  “Well, if these parents aren’t interested in raising the kids, why have them?”

“Tax break.”

“It’s too easy to have one.”

I shuffled Lamar’s report card to the failure pile.  “Then there are only two things left to say.  One, no one has the authority to tell adults they cannot have a child.  Two, many people should definitely refrain anyway.”