I’ll be off to DC one week from next Sunday….9AM on the 21st

Greetings, Gentle Reader, June 8, 2009

I certainly have not distinguished myself as a correspondent. It’s been a while.

Since our last chat I have conceived, executed and graded (1,022 pages) a final exam, exhorted 62 8th graders to “Be the baker, not the muffin” in a blessedly already-forgotten graduation speech, and been to the gym…once. But it was a good visit; I think this ‘ole engine has at least one more good row in it.

Last Friday night one of my students hosted a class celebration – quite a shindig on the Harbor – and among the amusements was a world-class Mechanical Bull. I capitalize Bull for those of you who have ridden – or have attempted to ride – such a device. You understand.

Gentle Reader, it strikes me as ironic that even as my colleagues and I urge our 8th graders to “use sound judgment” in the unfolding saga of their lives throughout the year, we (the relative oldsters) were so easily coaxed to ride The Mechanical Bull. I mean, here I am, soon to turn 58, a bit less flexible than I used to be, an entire summer of recreational activity, rowing, and leisure ahead of me, now climbing a Mechanical Bull at the encouragement of a corral of hollerin’ thirteen year old boys. Even as I vaulted on and grabbed the rope, Evil Twin Skippy was whispering in my ear, “Al, Al…whoa, pardner. Hold on, buck-a-roo. This is cause for pause. Think about it.”

Three times, Gentle Reader. Three times I leapt aboard, three times my upper body endured contortions not recommended for my demographic; three times I was dashed to the mat like a wet Sham Wow. Not pretty. I hope that the pangs that I presently feel in my lower back are temporary…and that I have learned something. I DO know that whispering calming words in the ear of a Mechanical Bull may be good theater, but such tenderness does not in any way influence what will happen next.

I’ll be off to DC one week from next Sunday….9AM on the 21st, for those of you who’d like to add to my stores of Yoo Hoo, Slim Jims, and Electrolyte Sharkies. I’ll be departing from The Rusty Scupper, the Inner Harbor eatery that hosted my arrival from Troy in ’06. The 21st is one of the longer days of the year, so I figured I’d make it easy for anyone who might like to come down to see me off. It’ll be rain or shine; my experience is that boats row pretty well in the rain, and I can’t be fishing for excuses if I’m to get a start on this thing.

Back to the gym tomorrow…13 days to go. I think I’ve started kinda’ late.