My Dog Ate My Homework

"Hey Miss, I figured out what I'm gonna do for the rest of my life."

This is how one of the kids entered the room today. He swaggers a lot. If you ask him to go back to his seat, he'll dance his way there. "Gotta go back to my seat..." he'll sing, "before my moms and teacher meet. Wouldn't wanna take the heat, so I'll sit down in this here seat..." He's about four foot five, his collared shirts hanging down to his knees. "It looks smart, huh?" he says on his way in each day. "The clothes. And the man." He's eleven.

"And what is that?" I ask him in response to his greeting.

"I'm gonna work at Foot Locker."

"Dream big, buddy. Dream big." I say this so he doesn't hear me.

"Well, what do you think?"

"Why Foot Locker?"

"Cause I can get myself some ill kicks."

"For the rest of your life."

"Yup."

"What happens when you're tired of your ill kicks? Then what?"

"Well, here's what I was thinking. I would get the illest kicks around, and then everyone would want them so they'd come to me and ask me for them so I'd trade them kicks for goods."

"Kicks for goods."

"Right, like those ancient people we read about in social studies."

"Like the people who had to trade food for clothing."

"Exactly! My sister works at Papa Gino's, so I can trade her kicks for pizza."

"There's your food."

"Yup. And if we move in with my other sister and her family, we can give them kicks and pizza and they'll let us live there."

"So you're going to live off of pizza for the rest of your life? What if you want something else?"

"Like what, KFC?"

"Like KFC."

"I guess I can save up."

"Sounds like a plan. So I'm curious though. What made you certain this is what you want to do in life - work at Foot Locker to get free kicks?"

"Free ILL kicks."

"Free ILL kicks."

"Well, you know how I told you I wanted to be a lawyer?"

"Yes. I thought that was a good career path for you."

"Cause I talk a lot. People tell me that."

"Because you talk a lot with purpose. Add that when people tell you you talk a lot. Say 'with purpose.' "

"With purpose."

"No, not now. Say it the next time someone tells you that you talk a lot."

"Ohh, right."

"Right. So what happened to your dreams of being a lawyer?"

"Do you know how long you gotta go to school for?"

"A long time."

"That's right, a long time. I figure, by the time I go to law school, I'll have grandchildren."

"You better not."

"Hey, I like the ladies, Miss. But that's not my point. My point is, it takes too long. So I gotta go to Foot Locker."

"So instead of being a lawyer - "

"I'm gonna sell kicks. And eat pizza."

"Wow."

"Now, look, Miss. You get up every day, right? You come here to school and talk to us kids and tell us grammar stuff, but I don't need none of that - "

"Any."

" - any of that to be a kicks salesman. And I tell you what, I'll hook you up with the illest pair we got when I start. You'd be the coolest lady on your block with all those white people and trees."

"Wow, thanks."

"I mean it. So you can just stop giving me writing lessons and making me read and telling me about grammar. And you definitely don't need to check my homework anymore, nope, no need for that."

"You didn't do your homework, did you?"

"Uhh..."

"I didn't hear that."

"No, Miss, I didn't."

"All this story was your way of telling me you didn't do your homework?"

"Not just that! And what I'm going to do with my life!"

"Right. Well, buddy, you certainly have a long winded way of going about it."

"What's long winded mean?"

"That you talk a lot."

"With purpose!"

The Return of the Rant

People have been asking me lately why I haven't written anything in here in the last three months. Some people thought that it might be because there aren't any more morons, or at least any more moron stories, but that's not the case. The truth is, I've sat down many times and tried to write something, but nothing's really come of it. I'll have a paragraph but it's pretty bad, and I'll realize one isolated moron incident really isn't worth writing about. Plus, when I was writing in this regularly, it was back when I was in college (that is pretty sad to write - "back when I was") and I had time to think about things and keep little post-its everywhere of every moronic encounter. I also had a lot of class time to kill when I'd have to listen to a bunch of know-it-alls pontificate about literature and/or education. I'd have at least three hours of writing time during class. I've lost that. I can't write down moron encounters while at work. (I keep a writer's notebook to show the kids how to write, and I don't think a model prompt of the moron who took fifteen minutes to order a freakin cup of coffee would be really good. Then again... it would be realistic. Hmm. I might have a new plan for my writer's notebook after all. But I'm off track now.)

Anyway, my point is, I didn't have time, and, more precisely, I didn't have the energy when I did have the time to put any of my material into a decent post. So I just gave up. There's another lesson for the kiddies: surrender.

So I wasn't really writing in this, and that meant that when I was encountering morons I was just kind of letting it pass without any real notice. This began to bother me, until finally, yesterday, I realized I had about three months of pent-up moron rage that was going to eat me alive. I realized, I'd better write it all down. I have no real format, no real organization. Just a list of rants that should have happened months ago but didn't. And as with all things, better late than never.

- The worst thing about the MTV Video Music Awards for me wasn't Britney's awful performance. It was that I felt like an old person because I couldn't handle all the crazy graphics and the ADD-style producing. It was like they couldn't give you more than 30 seconds of a performance before showing you on four split screens other performances happening; they had about ten artists contending for random categories, like "Biggest Monster Single" which I guess is cool wording for "Best Single," but it just got me annoyed. All the graphics kept flashing all over the place, all the category displays were freaking me out, and it made me think that there's a reason why every fourth child in America is diagnosed with ADD/ADHD or something similar. And when I realized I was thinking that, I also realized that I was thinking like one of those stodgy adults, so I went to bed at 9:30.

- What is up with people being unable to disengage from their boyfriend/girlfriend for fifteen minutes? I was on the T today and some couple couldn't handle the fact that one of them was sitting (girl) and one of them was standing directly over her (guy), practically falling into the laps of the people around him because he refused to grab onto anything besides her little hand which wasn't offering much support. I was sitting next to this beautiful display.

- I was in American Eagle today when the phone at the register rang. The salesgirl picked it up and answered it like this: "Live your life, American Eagle this is Jen speaking. How can I help you?" If someone answered my phone call like that, I'd hang the fuck up on them.

- I have an issue with patience. I am working on it, but I find I get impatient at ridiculous things. Like, waiting in line at Dunkin Donuts on a weekend morning. I get annoyed at the people who are putting in big orders, even though they're organized and doing absolutely nothing wrong and I've done big orders before. I shouldn't be impatient at all, but I cannot take it. Sometimes I actually think, "What is it about social convention that makes it entirely inappropriate for me to scream right now? And what is it about self-control that makes me entirely aware of this social convention and thus will stop myself from screaming even though I feel like it?" I really have these philosophical conversations in my head.

- On my second entry into this thing, I wrote about how clowns are really scary people. I gave all this research I'd done, just for this webpage. I talked about all these scary clowns who were really murderers and perverts. It made me think that back when I started, this thing could have been useful for people (like don't ever talk to a clown in a dark alley, for example) and now it's just a bunch of useless information about my internal philosophical conversations.

- I have one serious question: can someone please tell me how Eric Clapton's "Promises" rehab place stays in business? Think about how many celebrities have gone there for rehab, come out, and had to go back to some other place to get themselves into shape. I mean, don't you think if you were strung out and you had to go to rehab, you might want to avoid the place that Britney just checked out of? Isn't that kind of like the opposite of a good testimonial? I'm just thinking, isn't the fact that some of these total fuck-ups have gone to your rehab place BAD publicity?

- I'm about as opposite of an environmentalist as you can get. Al Gore would hate me, because I used to always run the water when I was brushing my teeth and I've been known to throw away plastic cans. I've also never once cut up those plastic soda can rings to save fish. In fact, I once made a joke at a meeting during college about me not being at all into the enviroment and almost started a riot.

This has all changed since this "fall." Every time I talked to anyone and griped about the weather, the conversation went just like this:

Me: "This weather is unbelievable. It's unacceptable."

"Global warming," the person says, shaking their head ruefully.

"Really?"

"Yes. There's not going to be a fall, just like there wasn't a spring. We're starting to experience the whole two-season year thing." All of this is matter-of-fact.

"WHAT?!? Oh my god! How come people aren't making a bigger deal of this!?! This is huge!" I'm freaking out.

"Umm... they have? been? For, like, years? An Inconvenient Truth? Ozone layer? Depleting?"

And then I'd have to stand there like an idiot, because of course I'd heard all of this environmental stuff, but since it wasn't happening right in front of me (I always had water, I always had another plastic soda bottle ready, and I'm not a fish), I'd pretty much ignored it. Well, not anymore. Now the conversation goes like this:

"This weather is awful," says some person to me.

"Global warming," I say, nodding my head.

"You think?"

"Oh, absolutely. It's horrible, how we're now experiencing the effects of such poor environmentalism in the year's past. I wish people had paid more attention." Rueful nod, rueful nod.

- "Hey, it's Jim. You remember me, Jim? We met, like, a year ago at your friend's birthday party. You were pretty bummed about the Sox not making the postseason. Anyway, we were going to meet up, and then things got hectic for me. I know you must be really busy now, but we should still get together. Actually, I was thinking, if there was any way for you to get tickets to any of the postseason games, that would be unbelievable! Well... give me a call back when you get a chance."

"Hi! Great to see you last night at dinner. So glad we could get together!! I forgot to mention... my brother is a HUGE Sox fan. So excited about the playoffs. Do you think you could get him to even an ALDS game? I mean, not even ALCS, but he'd LOVE that, obviously. Give me a call."

"Hi, remember last month, when you had two tickets to that Devil Rays game and I couldn't go? Well, I was thinking, since I couldn't go to that one, do you have any more tickets for this season? I know it's playoffs, but I really wanted to get to a game this year."

That's enough for now.