Creative Endeavors

Remember those days when your teacher unexpectedly called in sick? Some hapless substitute walked in, briefly struggled to teach a lesson and then surrendered class time to “study hall.” I used to personally love those days, when some clueless refugee from Junior College showed up and had to face our wolf pack mentalities.

Despite anecdotal and academic evidence that students don’t learn as much from substitutes, many school districts appear to have a problem with truant teachers, especially on sunny Fridays. An Orlando Sentinel reporter recently found that one district had 35% more teachers sick on Fridays than Wednesdays.

A Minneapolis reporter found similar absentee problems there. Duh? Who in their right mind would cut on a Wednesday and then have to come back to two more days of that, even a teacher is smarter than that.

Still fuming over what Obamma-Samma said about our National Anthem, that it was too “bellicose.” And he favored “Teach Me To Smile” or some other inane thing. Not having a lot of that there edumaycayshun that he has, I had to go to my source, I pulled out the old dictionary and looked up the meaning of the word “bellicose.”

It says: “Warlike: ready or inclined to quarrel, fight, or go to war.” Which should be a reasonable line for a Muslim, doesn’t the Koran say to “kill the infidels and non-believers?” I like him to “explain this one off” to a group in say …. Birmingham, Alabama or the Deep South. I learned another new word this week too. Paucity … (1) dearth: an inadequacy or lack of something. (2) fewness: a small number of something.

Oh well, back to reality.

Those wonderous folks over at CW brought us something new. Last night they premiered the first episode of “The Farmer Wants A Wife.” Just what we needed, another hopeless, turn your brain to oatmeal reality show that sucks. (I sure hope that isn’t bellicose sounding to the rest of you?)

Mr. Kountry-Bumpkin goes looking for his Big City wife and leaves his chicken fried bachelor life in the country in search of his personal farmerette (he has of course, his choice of ten women … Yeah that is a reality. Not!). All this takes place in his quiet georgic community, corn and soybeans ripening in the sun, front yards full of plows and tractors on most properties. To give all this up and venture out in search of a woman?

Let’s get real.

Someone chip in and purchase a lap-top for this poor slob (some add on accessories required), let’s get him on-line, “I just finished reading your blog, and I think I am in love.” Bring him up to speed, and make him fill out a “Top Ten List” (reasons to love me) like the rest of us!.

This is the twenty-first century after all.

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