Route 66

I've been musing lately with the idea of taking a group of students on a summer trip. Some outdoor excursion steeped gently in science. French teachers find themselves traipsing off to France. Geography teachers explore Australia. Hell, even PE teachers take kids on ski trips. Why not me?

But where do we go? I've got some thoughts: Yellowstone, the Grand Canyon, canoe trips... I should probably stay stateside for my first foray.

Where, were you my student, would you like to go with me? Fun is important, and the world offers an education that no classroom can match.


*for those who read the first draft, my apologies for the poor editing ;)

Why the blues?

I'm a 31 year old white guy. So why do I want to play a form of music that, frankly, doesn't connect to my target demographic at all?

It has to do with the role of a blues bassist. Solid. Locked in. Supportive. Essential. It is who I want to be in and out of music.

I just don't want to be the front man. If I was on the cover of the CD case, you'd turn it over and put your beer on it. I lack the looks and the flash needed to be the face of band. But I can be the backbone.

So what is the root of me? What is it that makes me important to the people I love? I think it's that I provide something solid in a pretty transient world.

The Black Crows, Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, Nirvana, Red Hot Chili Peppers. Solid, based in blues, and except for Flea, can you name the bassists? Probably not. But turn on an album and cut the bass on the EQ. Is it as good?

Would you miss me if I wasn't playing in your band? If I am living my life right, the answer is yes.

Reduce, reuse, recycle

The Goober Pea and I were on the way home from pre-school.

daughter: "Look! I have little fuzzies on my legs like you, Daddy."
me: "Yes, but yours are little and fine and blonde. Mine are thick and dark."
daughter: "Why?"
me: "Because I'm a big old daddy."
daughter: "Yeah, but not too old. We can still keep you."
me: "I'm glad."
daughter: "Yeah. Pretty soon you'll be too old and then we'll have to get a new daddy."
me: "No way! Only one old daddy for this family!"
daughter: "But when you are too old we will have to get a new one. OK?"

Does she know something I don't?

My ACT proved it long ago

Was there any doubt?
Though I am a little concerned about the low computer scoring... I had better geek a bit more in that field...
Wouldn't want people to think I was socially capable...

Clean thoughts

A standard fixture in every good science class is the long, black-topped experiment table. It gleams glossy, its days marked by on the barest of nicks; scars from the Battle of Education. It's badges are two, small, ringed holes.

Many assume that these holes are to support lab equipment during fits and bursts of hands-on education. But the Insidious Dr. Science(!) knew their true purpose, and he shared it with me in a temple lab in the ruins of a shrine dedicated to Robert Hooke.

They are finger locks. Teenagers are compelled to discover them through trial by fire.

CSG*: "Mr. Rover, come here!"
Me: "No. I am old. You come here, lazy youth."
CSG: "Mr. Rover, come here!"
Me: "Dare you ignore this lesson, child?! Fine. I shall approach that you may learn."
CSG: "I put my finger in this hole and I can't get it out! It's too tight! I'm stuck!"
Me: "Of course you are, my child. It was written in the Tome of Hypotheses. 'If the finger lock is present, the child must become ensnared.'"
CSG: "How do I get out?"
Me: "You must remain calm. Your mind must recede, allowing your body to slow for 3 days, growing ever slimmer, until it is freed. Or, dish soap could work."

This child owes me cookies for many reasons. Feel free to list them all.

*CSG = Catholic School Girl