Grand Slam Communication
I am now in a position to offer sage advice.
I had a birthday this week.
I am older and wiser.
Don’t ever place a plastic dish on a pre-heated cast-iron griddle and then busy yourself with other things.
You will regret it.
The smell will scar your brain.
For life.
I’m not saying that I actually did this incredibly stupid thing.
I’m just offering some sage advice…
The tornado sirens were going off.
We had plenty of warning.
This storm was predicted.
We had blankets and pillows.
A leash for the dog.
Extra cables and batteries for the phones.
An ax and a crowbar in case we need to claw our way out.
I even made a point to wear shoes and socks instead of flip flops.
In case of rubble.
But there was one thing that I hadn’t prepared for.
My socks were the kind that sagged under my feet with every step.
This is going to seriously impede any kind of rescue effort.
I don’t know which is worse – sock bumps or tornadoes.
At any rate, the storm passed over us without incident.
My first plan of action was to change my socks.
Now I’m ready for the next round of tornado sirens.
It’s always good to have a Plan B.
We were ready to grill our Memorial Day steaks.
But our plans were brought to a screeching halt.
There was a wasp nest in the grill.
Plan B.
We pan-fried our steaks indoors.
Stupid wasps.
Any man’s death diminishes me, for I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
Philip Roth died one year ago today, May 22, 2018.
I did not know that.
Thank goodness for the internet.
I might have gone my whole life without knowing that bit of trivia.
My parents LOVED Portnoy’s Complaint.
I had never read it.
Finally, after finding this book on a “must read” list, I dove in.
I hated it.
Philip Roth, through Alex Portnoy, inspired an entire generation of men to follow his overbearing, self-absorbed and whiny example.
Ick.
I will not be reading any more Roth.
So many ESL teachers complain that their students continue to make the same pronunciation mistake over and over.
They mock their students in the teacher chat rooms.
Is it the student’s fault?
NO!
If errors are being made, it’s the teacher’s responsibility to teach the concept.
One very common pronunciation mistake is to mix up the hard /g/ and the soft /g/ in words like colleague and college.
Teachers, don’t get annoyed.
Impatience doesn’t teach your students anything.
Explain the rule about how to pronounce /g/.
Expect mistakes.
It’s hard to learn a new language.
With practice, they’ll get it right.
If you want your students to succeed, give them the tools to succeed.
Impatience is not an effective teaching tool.
A frog was in my kitchen.
Seriously?
We’ve had our share of pests in the house.
Ants, of course.
Spiders, flies, moths and mosquitoes.
An occasional cricket.
Once we even had a mouse.
But this morning I had a first.
I was so shocked that I had to rub my eyes to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.
It was a frog.
A FROG!!!
A frog was in my kitchen.
It was huge and brown and ugly.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or to scream.
Or to kiss it.
It was as big as my fist, so squishing it wasn’t even an option.
And catching it seemed a little creepy.
OK, a LOT creepy.
Luckily, it was a smart frog.
I opened the back door, and it seemed to sense its opportunity.
It headed right toward the fresh air and hopped outside.
That’s one Texas-sized crisis that was averted.
The other day, we finally visited the Buc-ee’s rest stop.
We’ve been in Texas a year, and we had yet to visit this place.
The word is it’s an amazing rest stop.
We happily discovered that it IS an amazing place.
The gifts!
The candy!
The beef jerky!
We had just eaten, and Bob was disappointed.
He would have liked to have eaten dinner here.
I promised I would bring him back for Father’s Day.
And then I immediately regretted that offer.
My birthday falls on Father’s Day.
I don’t want to have my birthday dinner at a rest stop.
Apparently I have already made the commitment…
I love stupid humor.
My student used the term “expression face” when she meant to use “facial expression.”
I immediately thought of the Boaty McBoatface PR fiasco.
I considered discussing this with her.
But I decided against it.
How do you explain that sometimes stupid is stupid.
And sometimes stupid is funny.
It’s purely subjective.
I think that the Boaty McBoatface story was hilarious.
But I’ll bet there were folks at the Natural Environment Research Council who were not so amused.
Or maybe they were.
Who knows?
There are no rules when it comes to stupid humor.
And if there are no rules, there is no logical way to explain it.
I skipped the whole Boaty McBoatface thing and just continued the lesson.
Oh, you’ve got to love Karma.
I was driving down a residential street in my neighborhood.
It was a lovely spring morning.
People were outdoors playing ball, doing yard work and washing their cars.
Families with strollers and dogs were out and about.
Bicycles and joggers were out in droves.
So, of course, I drove very slowly and carefully.
Apparently I was driving too slowly and carefully.
A young lady, driving fast, screeched behind me, yanked around my car quickly and roared past in a fury.
Everyone yelled at her.
One guy chased after her.
Several people took a picture of her license plate.
I continued on slowly past the now-outraged crowd.
When I drove out of the neighborhood and turned onto the main street, the traffic was backed up for a passing train.
I pulled up right behind my speed-demon nemesis.
I honked and waved.
She flipped me the bird.
Whatever.
You’ve got to love Karma.