‘Smart enough’ is a fair goal in education.
It’ll take you where you want to go, and help avoid places you don’t want to go.
There’s a self-serving element to it when you like school so much you go to college to become a teacher.
Or, you like kids enough to give them a better start than you had.
I had a pretty good start.
With both parents working I learned how to fend for myself, who to spend extra time with, who to avoid.
An older brother was who I wanted when I found myself in the company of grade school hoodlums.
They told me what was what, like I didn’t have an older brother.
Hoodum: First, we’ll stop at the little store and steal things while you keep the old people at the counter busy. Then we go to your house and split it up.
Me: Okay.
Except when we got to my house they started taking things off the walls, which has since made me wary of who I invited around.
After seeing who I came in to the Roadside Grocery with, Jess and Marie kept an eye on me.
I had to work my way into their good graces in the fifth grade.
Appearances Are Superficial, But Be Smart Enough To Know Better
My parents made of point of reminding their kids, “You are judged by the company you keep.”
It never hit harder than having delinquents in my house stuffing my Mom’s steel chicken trivets in their pants.
My first thought was, ‘I wonder what they’ve got on their kitchen walls?’
My second was getting those trivets hung back on the bare nails and getting those guys out of my house and locking the damn door before anyone got home.
They were fun enough, but I thought it was odd to rob my house while I stood there.
I learned from Facebook that they died in prison.
I’ve always felt smart enough not to step in dog crap, not that dog crap has anything to do with an I.Q. test.
But, if you’ve got a big dog, it’s a big deal.
My dog tries deaking me by pinching a loaf, then going behind me while I’m bagging it and dropping another for me to step back on.
Nice try, dog, but not yet.
Or, she finishes up and kicks back like a ditch witch trying to nail me while I pick things up.
Our front yard was once on a ‘garden tour’ list.
Now it’s a miniature dog park covered in moss and wood chips.
We’re all trying to be smart enough to make it work.
No one has accused me of being a dog whisperer, but I go with the idea of no bad dogs, just bad dog owners.
Everything the dog does is my fault, then?
Keep Good Company
You’ve heard about the ‘inner child’ we all remember being, the little shit we keep tamped down and out of trouble?
Way out here in Oregon we have an ‘inner Sasquatch,’ an ‘inner Big Foot,’ to keep our inner child company.
The way Big Foot dashes away from the public is the origin of the Seattle Freeze.
Just what is the so-called Seattle Freeze?
It depends on whom you ask, but it goes something like this: When people move to Seattle, everyone is nice and friendly; they smile, they nod.
But will your new friends and neighbors ever invite you over? If you try inviting them to a potluck or a barbecue, will they come? Will your co-workers invite you to hang out on the weekend?
The inner child makes plans the inner Sasquatch tries to avoid.
If you’re lucky it all evens out.
But, what if you’re not so lucky? Tension, that’s what you get.
You will, but you won’t; you do but you don’t; you care, but . . . enough?
It’s important, as a writer writing blog posts, to help readers understand the origins of their problems, the tension that comes out as anger.
Inner Big Foot says, “Call me later.”
Inner Child worries, ‘Will they call back this time because I hope they do, I’d like them to call me.’
Who’s going to pick up the call first?
About David Gillaspie
