On Your Mark, Get Set…Back to School

Hundreds of them arrived with anxious, worried looks on their faces.  They seemed confused and bewildered by the high school campus that would be their home for the next few hours.  What would the teachers look like this year?  Could I make a good impression?    Where the hell is room 210? 

These multitudes of people all came dressed as is the custom for a high school near the beach.  Jeans, t-shirts, flip flops, shorts, some wearing dresses and a few actually clad in suites and ties.  There were cell phones and iPads in hand while they half walked; half ran through the quad looking for their first period classrooms.  It looked like a chaotic sea of bobbing heads and quizzical looks.  

This was the scene at Back to School night at my daughter’s high school last evening. 

These are the parents of the children who will soon be thrust upon society as adults in the next few years  and after last night, I cringe for humanity.  I have never seen so many bewildered and lost souls in my life.  It was like once they stepped onto campus and into some sort of bad Twilight Zone episode.  Vanished was any trace of adulthood.  Gum chewing, soda drinking, interrupting the teacher, cell phones ringing.  Dear god, these are supposed to be adults, parents with responsibilities.  

My daughter has six teachers throughout her school day and my wife and I needed to meet with each one.  At Back to School night the teachers have about twelve short minutes to talk with you and all the other assembled parents.  In that brief time the teacher needs to explain their background, their curriculum for the class and then if there is time, take questions.  If you've ever been exposed to "speed dating", it's a lot like that.

You then have three minutes to rush across campus to your child's next class, and there it starts all over again.  You repeat this through the night until you’ve had the opportunity to embarrass yourself to all of your kid’s teachers.  

I can just imagine what this morning at school will look like.  All the students will assemble back into their classrooms that the night before were occupied by their parents.  Their teachers will be looking across the classroom at all their anxious faces, and they will be thinking; after meeting your parents last night,  I now know why you turned out this way. 

A House Divided

I live in a divided house, and not because I’m the only one with testosterone within yelling distance.  It’s because my wife is a Democrat and I’m a Republican.  A fact that didn’t come to surface until after we got married.  When we were first married about a decade ago, the nation hadn't had a major election that would have come up in conversations in our home.  A few senatorial races, some local propositions, maybe a couple of city council elections, but nothing that would have caused either my wife or I to question the other’s sanity.  

Someone told me recently that it doesn’t matter that we are total opposites on our political views; our votes will cancel each other out.  That maybe true, but this debate of opposites goes much deeper than that.  It’s not that we have a responsibility to our respective parties to vote; and no, it’s not that we have this great opportunity to harass each others candidates, which we do relentlessly, hello Trump, hello Hillary.   

The real crux of the matter here is why did it take so long to find out about my wife’s political preferences?  How did I go through our initial meeting, dating, courtship (funny word) and wedding without having a clue to how she leans politically?

As she and I met online through Match.com I don’t remember if they had a profile section concerning political affiliation.  Was there a place to check off donkey or an elephant?  Should I have been more explicit in my profile and added Bush lover (that would have gotten me in trouble)? 

How could we have had all those long walks and talks about life and love during our dating; about how we raise our children, school work, discipline, money, housework and the usual domestic items, yet miss political leanings.  Was I starry eyed in love and missed all the signs?  Did I know deep down in my being and just subconsciously pushed it down and ignored it?  I don’t know.

What I do know is that we are having great fun at my house.  This election has brought out the feisty side in both of us.  We goad and poke each other when our candidates pull a major duh.  We both do a running commentary during the conventions that is far more entertaining than what is happening up on the podium most nights.

No matter who wins I’m going to remember this election fondly.  A house divided is a house having fun (at least at my house).