Thank you, Mr. Tarabokia. You stared into my eyes and heard my knees knocking together, then did the right thing. RIP.
Monday, September 21, 2015
Mr. Tarabokia, RIP
I never knew the relationship to Cindy Neidig Myer. Though I do remember the man well, as I was summoned to his office at Willard when I was in the third grade. Our regular principal, Dan Daly, was on sabbatical and Mr. Tarabokia was his replacement for the year. I had been "fingered" as the one responsible for splashing paint on the music room windows. When in fact I had showed up after the fact and was an innocent passerby. My time within the principal's office was short that day and angst-filled. After only a question or two I was judged innocent of any wrongdoing.
Thank you, Mr. Tarabokia. You stared into my eyes and heard my knees knocking together, then did the right thing. RIP.
Thank you, Mr. Tarabokia. You stared into my eyes and heard my knees knocking together, then did the right thing. RIP.
Thursday, September 10, 2015
September Summer Rains
We'd be sitting in our classrooms at school staring outside at the rain and wondering to ourselves how much longer we'd be able to wear short pants to school. Once we began wearing long pants we knew that summer was over.
The rains would take all of the summer heat out of the atmosphere, which was good and bad. Good in that our days would be pleasant and not filled with stifling heat in our classrooms which at the time lacked any sort of air-conditioning. Bad in that there wouldn't be many of these before autumn gales made themselves known to us and summer became a faint memory.
I can look at these same rains now from my desk at my office and realize none of these same thoughts and feelings. I tend to fall back on the old adage about nobody being able to predict the weather and that is good enough.
When we were young these rains while we were attending school seemed predictable and seemingly manageable, if we only allowed ourselves to get a little wet.
As adults we tend to mind getting a little wet, and carry umbrellas to ward off any slight inconvenience a soft summer rain will cause us. I think children have the right idea. Whenever I see them jump in puddles and run from tree to tree allowing themselves to embrace the warm rain, they are the wise ones, not us adults who value dry shoes and cloths over the stimulating feeling offered by a moment under a September Summer Rain. Gene Kelly had it correct:
The rains would take all of the summer heat out of the atmosphere, which was good and bad. Good in that our days would be pleasant and not filled with stifling heat in our classrooms which at the time lacked any sort of air-conditioning. Bad in that there wouldn't be many of these before autumn gales made themselves known to us and summer became a faint memory.
I can look at these same rains now from my desk at my office and realize none of these same thoughts and feelings. I tend to fall back on the old adage about nobody being able to predict the weather and that is good enough.
When we were young these rains while we were attending school seemed predictable and seemingly manageable, if we only allowed ourselves to get a little wet.
As adults we tend to mind getting a little wet, and carry umbrellas to ward off any slight inconvenience a soft summer rain will cause us. I think children have the right idea. Whenever I see them jump in puddles and run from tree to tree allowing themselves to embrace the warm rain, they are the wise ones, not us adults who value dry shoes and cloths over the stimulating feeling offered by a moment under a September Summer Rain. Gene Kelly had it correct:
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