Lesson 23. Oh the places you'll go.

Ok. This is not really a lesson.

Chris is in charge of the budget. He had declared at least a year off from international travel (though I snuck Canada in as our 51st+.. I wonder if I could do the same for Bermuda).

So now I have to think about local travel. In these United States.

I know this summer we are doing the Northeast. Culminating in ocean kayaking in Maine.


But where else should be on my list?

So far it's....
Savannah. I don't know why.
I liked. Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. That's why.

I generally want to sample the south a little more.

California more too.

And I've never been to Boston, only drove through Chicago, and can't remember anything about Philly. But watching/reading John Adams made me really want to go back.

Colonial Williamsburg too. Monticello. I love ye olde colonial. Chris doesn't.

And there is a bike trip down from Buffalo to Albany along the Eerie Canal (got a mule, her name is Sal) that we've been planning.

Don't worry. It's an official tour.

And Yellowstone. That's on the list.

I guess we should see Texas too. During our cross country trip, it was only a lunch stop. I want to remember the alamo. Or learn about it in the first place. Just like in Pee Wee's big adventure.

I would go back to Nashville too. Just for the food.

And Cleveland. Cause it rocks.

I will think of more soon. I think I need a map.

Lesson 22: Repetitive redundancy.

A few weeks ago, my beloved Stephen King ("Uncle Stevie") decided to no longer be a guest columnist for Entertainment Weekly.

His predominant reason? Fear of repeating himself.

And while I am sad he is leaving, I can understand his worries.

I worry that there is a shelf life to our jokes, our stories, and our demands.

Sometimes I think that may be part of the reason I am a high school teacher. I like the part where I am in people's lives for brief flashes and then a memory.

I keeps me from worrying that I am going to wind up an overplayed chorus. Like a summer song that gets played too long into the fall.

Now I just have to decide if I still want my subscription to the magazine.

Lesson 21: Don't stop believin'

I think I have written before about optimism.

While I never seem to get to teach it (Willy Loman the optimist? Only ironically), my preferred literature often reeks of optimism.

Persepolis? Times are tough but we'll get through.

Old School? School is awkward but I will grow up and make money telling people my woes.

Even my super favorite A Prayer For Owen Meany? I may be getting smaller but I still see you.

Why is optimism seen as childish?

I had a 15 year old today tell me that he would rather not look forward to a possibility of a snow day and be surprised than spend a day hoping.

I know I am supposed to agree. I know I should be cynical. All I want is snow though.

I am hoping to live forever as an optimist.

For example: despite knowing that the snow is supposed to end early, I have thoughts like...

...maybe they will run out of room to put the snow and I will have off?

...but I picked up my car from the shop, I am so prepared for school so I must have off.

...I work in such a big town, they will never be able to plow it all.

I guess this can be the optimist test.

Will I go in tomorrow or will my inside out pjs pay off? Will it be a day of cocoa cookies and catching up... or will I review for midterms?