Edubabble and other Blither

is almost over, thank god. May has been a clusterfuck for a long time, probably as long as Trip and I have been together. In May, there's the rush of grading, sorting, finishing, scrambling that accompanies the end of the school year. There are the birthdays of two nephews. There's Trip's brother's birthday. His grandmother's birthday. There's Mother's Day. There's Memorial Day. We don't necessarily have events tied to every one of these events, but May seems like an eternity.

Some highlights:

• Brent, Trip's brother who lives in Philly, visited last weekend with his two sons, ages 5 and 2. Brent's wife, Jen, is taking classes and gratefully snatched the opportunity to study, clean, and maybe even bask in her house, alone. Brent's oldest, Lance, had turned 5 a week or so previously, but none of the Dogpatch family were there, so we had another birthday celebration for both him and his father at brother Carlin's house. He received presents. There was a cake. The next day there were more presents at Trip's mother's house. No "birthday" cake, though, thankfully. "No wonder kids today seem so bratty sometimes," Trip quipped. "They've had so many fucking birthday parties that they think they're 15 years old." Food for thought, indeed. Trip and I don't remember having meltdowns ever-- we certainly did, we're sure, but they were too long ago to remember. Our 5 year old nephew and 6 year old niece are still having them. I cannot remember having a tantrum. If I had when I was that old, I'm sure my ass would have been cracked.
• At Carlin's house, a breakthrough occurred, one that we thought we'd never see. Deb handed Trip a napkin and said, "Here, Trip, give this to your father." Trip's dad and Deb were on the deck at the same time, along with his wife. He laughed at one of Deb's jokes, one that some of the younger people had not gotten. She appreciated it. She suggested baking soda for a bug bite that plagued him. Surely Armageddon nears.
• Deb and I went to our fourth Springsteen show and had a great time. Except for me stupidly inserting my atm card into the receipt slot. I hadn't even had one beer at that time. This was in the lobby of a Marriott, and we were helped by the brother of one of my former students. Over a hundred miles away....
• This past week I ran into Dixon, who is now 21, at our watering hole, or post. Trip, the Senora, and I were watching the Pens in the playoffs. Dixon had texted me that he'd be there, asking me to be there, but arrived with his dad and waved vaguely. I was confused at first. Was he drunk when he texted me? Later, though, he came over and updated me on his life. He lives with his girlfriend down the street from us, has quit college after being told he couldn't even reference marijuana in a non-fiction human interest story about an transient hippie, and works at Burger King. He plays his music, writes, and would like to be a philosophy major if he could stomach the thought of finishing college.
• I receive newsletters from the honors program I was a part of in college. They usually contain 8 to 10 articles written by students about various topics. The most recent featured a piece about dressing up by a young man who described himself as a decent student (all A's, he added in parentheses) but not an academic superstar. How can that be? What have we come to in education if straight A's doesn't qualify you as an academic superstar?
• Tonight Trip and I are postbound again, meeting the Senora to watch game 1 of the Stanley Cup. I have discovered I really enjoy watching hockey.