I’m covering a year 11 maths class today. The note from their regular teacher said to give them personal study time to revise for upcoming exams. I am bored. I’ve finished the marking I had brought along, wandered round the class three times to see if I could be of assistance to anybody, and counted the gaps in the metal grills covering the windows (12,000 exactly)As I drifted off into the abyss that is daydreaming without the dreams I began to hear snippets of conversations. So, as I am so bored, and as I haven’t posted for a few days, and as I have nothing of any consequence to post about, I thought I would open the world of disjointed year 11 conversions to the world – don’t worry, I did ask permission first:
Okay, I’m scared… Do you drink coffee? Do you? Do you?.. I’m fishing!.. Where’d that lead go?.. Just tell me how to do something… That’s RE – do. not. write on your RE work... Jemma, stop giving me slabber… Where’s these pluses at?.. Are you gonna make any money at the old writing?.. Very nice... You’d nearly think I need to know this crap... Lean on me, when you’re not strong, and I’ll be your friend… He’s not worth it… Oh my gosh!.. I am not eating burgers ever again… Let’s ring Tescos!.. Suzanne – Sue-zed-eh-en-en-eeeee – Suzanne had braces… Let’s put on some Beach Boys… That’s the thing about Tai Chi… Shut up… I bring ma pappy to you. My pappy got a shotgun… Do you know you’re eating crisps at this time of the day and it is highly revolting… I don’t plan on passing the test… I’m trying to teach the p4s here… Excuse me!.. Someone licked that!.. Stephen, what is that? Jack and the Beanstalk?.. I said Shut up!.. Did she text back? What did she say?... I can’t say that out loud… Aw, sweet… she said ‘tell him he can [inaudible] her [inaudible]… what are we revising again?... If you’re finished with her could you let her know… Apricots… What?... Apricots… I SAID SHUT UP!!!
Enlightening. Enjoy your day.
4 comments:
you're past the 3K mark, mister . . . did you notice?
ps: when you have time, i have a book for you.
3049 at last count. and only 1765 are you.
Tell me more about this book - I must know more.
yeah, like, i know, ok? I KNOW.
and just what are you trying to say, anyway, eh? are you trying to give me a not-so-subtle heave-ho?
well, before you give me the boot: the book's called "the soloist". it was written by steve lopez, who's a columnist for the los angeles times.
anyhow, i love it and wanted to share it with you. and i was just lamenting that there isn't some cool cafe where i can leave the book for you . . . that the best i can do is tell you about it and how amazing i think it is (which probably doesn't mean much to you).
i'd bought it because i wanted to teach my journalism students how to write features, but now i'm just in love with it, on an intimate, personal level . . . and i thought about you and that post you had about leaving books/giving books to others . . .
here's the los angeles times' review:
LOS ANGELES' skid row, as Steve Lopez writes in "The Soloist," is the homeless capital of the nation.
Hidden in plain sight just down the street from City Hall and mere steps from the offices of this newspaper, skid row is a reeking repository of disease, drugs and desperation that most of us avoid when possible or hurriedly step past when necessary, averting our stares from hollow cheeks and hollow eyes, as if they were invisible.
"The Soloist" is Lopez's compelling and gruffly tender account of what can happen when you don't step past.
In his unsparing portrait of this universe and the plight of the homeless mentally ill, Lopez offers not a moment of wonkery or preachiness -- just his keen observations and eye for telling detail as he unfolds the story of his unintended and improbable friendship with a homeless, schizophrenic classical musician, Nathaniel Ayers.
Lopez, a columnist for the Los Angeles Times, is an old-school news guy in the tradition of legendary columnists Mike Royko of Chicago and Jimmy Breslin of New York. This means he is no pundit but instead favors getting his butt out of the newsroom (you'd be surprised how rare that is) to dig up character-driven stories and, whenever possible, to poke a sharp stick in the eye of authority. Writing two to three consistently good columns a week is one of the hardest jobs in journalism, and Lopez is very good at it.
"The Soloist," his fourth book but first work of nonfiction, grew out of a series of columns he wrote about Ayers. I had some doubts that those fine columns I'd read would provide enough meat for a book, but he has fleshed out the story beautifully and engagingly. (I should note that, beyond sitting on a book festival panel with him once, I don't know Lopez.)
His involvement with the homeless middle-aged musician began when Lopez impulsively stopped to chat with Ayers after hearing him play some haunting refrains from Beethoven on a partly strung violin on a downtown Los Angeles street. Only semi-coherent, his possessions jammed into a shopping cart at his side, Ayers nevertheless cut a memorable figure, an "image of grubby refinement" that Lopez figured just might be worth a column.
A few more conversations and a little checking revealed that the man's unlikely story of being a former prodigy and student at the famed Julliard School in New York was true -- and Lopez had himself a nice human-interest story of a talent, a fall and promise unrealized. The headline: "He's Got the World on Two Strings."
the rest of the review, if you want to read it, continues here: http://www.calendarlive.com/books/cl-et-book21apr21,0,3306360.story
i hope you can pick it up and read it. and if not, well, i'll still stop by and read and laugh and commiserate and say hello . . .
and if you don't like "the soloist", there's another book i'm reading, which you probably won't like either because i'm quirky and kooky like that, but here goes anyway: "stiff: the curious lives of human cadavers" is awesome.
but before you start backing away slowly and then running for the hills, i want you to know it was a gift. one of my assistants gave it to me after we'd had a discussion about organ donation . . . it sounds weird, but really, it's fantastic and . . . oddly . . . very, very funny.
so, that's it. this is what, 1766?
ps: today, in class as we're reading "romeo and juliet" . . .
"ms. b?"
"yes, mike?"
"what are lions?"
"big, fuzzy cats, mike. why?"
"no, NO . . . LIONS."
"yes. lions. lions are big, fuzzy cats."
"sorry, i meant loins."
"oh, LOINS."
"yeah, what's that."
"they are a person's reproductive organs and genitalia."
"bwaaaaaaaah haaaaaa haaaaaa!!! BALLS?!?!"
"no. genitals. re pro duc tive organs."
(all students) "bwaaaaaaaah haaaaaa haaaaaa!!! BALLS . . ."
(under my breath) "kill me now."
talk about "enlightening", huh?
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