Snow Day
Is there any more beautiful phrase in the English language?
Woo-hoo!
The snow and ice have rendered area roads sufficiently impassible that the administration of my college (along with Seattle Public Schools, too), has cancelled classes for the day.
Mimi and her buddy Ani are already up and out—just as early as if they had school—sliding down the front yard on cardboard sleds.
I’m here at the computer, noodling about on my own stuff instead of grading papers—which I ought to be doing in any case.
Kids today have it made with their internet sites to let them know that school is cancelled; I remember huddling around Mom and Dad’s clock radio hoping to hear the on-air announcement that Pittsburgh Public Schools had the day off. And of course, it was always the case that the suburban schools got closed while students in the city had to slog through the sleety streets to sit in overheated classrooms.
A couple years ago—before I had tenure—I took the bus all the way out to Bothell on the snowiest morning of the year—it took about 2 hours—and the moment I walked through the door, it was announced that the college was closing for the day. Another 2 hours back on the bus followed by a thrilling uphill bike ride through snowy Capitol Hill brought me back home.
Today, (on the other side of the tenure mountain), I was fully prepared to cancel my morning class if school hadn’t been closed. This probably bespeaks a sense of entitlement, but I’m spinning it as an evolved compassion for my students who would have to drive in over icy roads.
I want to get out on my bike and see what it’s like trying to navigate the icy streets. Last time we had a snow day, I wasted most of it on the bus; this time, I’m not going to miss it being on the computer.
Woo-hoo!
The snow and ice have rendered area roads sufficiently impassible that the administration of my college (along with Seattle Public Schools, too), has cancelled classes for the day.
Mimi and her buddy Ani are already up and out—just as early as if they had school—sliding down the front yard on cardboard sleds.
I’m here at the computer, noodling about on my own stuff instead of grading papers—which I ought to be doing in any case.
Kids today have it made with their internet sites to let them know that school is cancelled; I remember huddling around Mom and Dad’s clock radio hoping to hear the on-air announcement that Pittsburgh Public Schools had the day off. And of course, it was always the case that the suburban schools got closed while students in the city had to slog through the sleety streets to sit in overheated classrooms.
A couple years ago—before I had tenure—I took the bus all the way out to Bothell on the snowiest morning of the year—it took about 2 hours—and the moment I walked through the door, it was announced that the college was closing for the day. Another 2 hours back on the bus followed by a thrilling uphill bike ride through snowy Capitol Hill brought me back home.
Today, (on the other side of the tenure mountain), I was fully prepared to cancel my morning class if school hadn’t been closed. This probably bespeaks a sense of entitlement, but I’m spinning it as an evolved compassion for my students who would have to drive in over icy roads.
I want to get out on my bike and see what it’s like trying to navigate the icy streets. Last time we had a snow day, I wasted most of it on the bus; this time, I’m not going to miss it being on the computer.
posted by Professor Dave at 9:28 AM
1 Comments:
You are truly a disturbed young man.
Post a Comment
<< Home