The Kronikle Volume 4, Issue 4: "I LIVED IT"
Greetings Kronkites!
Here is what the ad in the Yellow pages said:
Laundry
Open 7 Days a Week
9AM to 9PM, 1036 S. 4th St.
Here is what the sign on the door at 1036 S. 4th St. said:
Mon-Fri: Blah Blah Blah
Sat: Blah Blah Blah
Sun: CLOSED
Guess what day I chose to do laundry?
1036 S. 4th St. is a decent, walkable distance from where I stay. It is about a mile, which is just about right for a walk that includes 10-15 pounds of laundry on a fairly humid, if not hot, day.
I learned once again (this is a lesson I learn every year because I am such a cheap skate and think I am going to get away with something cheap and easy every once in a while) that in a pinch, the Laundry and Tan Connection on 1907 S. 4th St also serves as a decent, walkable distance that includes 10-15 pounds of laundry on a fairly humid, if not hot, day.
Here's the thing though--I got to walk through neighborhoods that had spectacular churches, beautiful old houses, and regal public buildings (the de Paul Manuel High School is graduating its 156th class. Oklahoma has only been a state for two thirds that time!), In addition to the buildings that I had a giant urge to just walk up to and hug, the verdant flora was mesmerizing. Plants that would be brown and withered now in Oklahoma were bright green and in full flower. I probably saw 30 different kinds of flowers. At the time, I wished I had been granted extra limbs so I could take pictures as I walked (and the comparisons to Shiva would also have been welcome).
Got my clothes washed with a minimum of complication and/ or interference. The interference I did receive was helpful with direct, accurate answers to the questions, "Can you make change?" and "What is your address so I can call a cab?" I also received an unprovoked comment of "Hey, you are using a broken dryer." The Kentucky folks here are real sweet.
On the ride back (yes, I caved and paid for a cab), I talked to the guy in the cab. I speculate that he was probably not born here because he had a thick accent. He talked about how he used to work the night shift but drunk people are scary. Because he doesn't work those choice hours, he works 16 hours a day, 7 days a week in order to pay the rent on his cab. I asked him if there was anything he liked about his job. He didn't have anything. When I said I was a teacher, he said that was something he would like to do. He then told me he used to teach math for about 10 years. It was an interesting capstone to the immigrant question we finished yesterday.
There are 4 different questions scored in the Louisville Convention Center during the first three days. There are different sections of the hall where each question is graded, so I am in section 4. Each of the sections is divided by blue curtains and then there are entrances to the area without any curtains. Whenever I go to the restroom, I always like to go through the curtains instead of the entrance so I can pretend I am Johnny Carson.
Today was really interesting. We started our new question, the one everyone grades for the rest of the week. This year's question asks the student to identify and evaluate the domestic and international challenges facing the Nixon Administration, and the response of the administration to the challenges. We trained on the question today. Before I tell you about that, I must digress for a moment.
The second I sat down at the table the first day, I recognized the table leader reminded me of someone. I was not sure if it was someone I knew or someone famous. The second day, I could not pin it down. Then at lunch, yesterday, I figured it out. My table leader is disturbingly similar to my boss and mentor for about 7 years, Jack. Once I figured it out, it has only become more peculiar for a couple of reasons. First, now that I know what to look for, I have noticed that his pattern of speech is the same (although my table leader has a slight Southern accent), his personality is extremely similar, he looks like he could be related to Jack, and his laugh is EXACTLY THE SAME. Second, Jack was really important to my development, so I feel this allegiance to my table leader that is totally misplaced. Here's hoping I don't find myself in a situation where my table leader and I are on the street and a bus is headed straight for him.
All of this has an impact on my impression of today's discussion as we trained on the question. As we were training, Texas Fire, who sits next to my Tablemate (who has been renamed The Professor Dr. German) would regularly question some point on the training instructions with the pretty irrefutable "I LIVED THROUGH IT!" To which my Table Leader, Boss Part Deux, would gently respond, much like Jack did in the day on some issue, with a "Let's try not to let our personal feelings get in the way," or joke, "Well, I did too (for two years)". He also gets to deal with the fact that Texas Fire has remembered one comment he made the first day about how to score the essays and brings it up about 7 times a day. Boss Part Deux clearly has patience but that has to wear him out.
By the way, I have nicknames for the rest of my table now. Anti-Snooki sits between Texas Fire and Boss Part Deux (she is from New Jersey and DOES NOT talk like anyone from that show), Had lunch with her today. She is a nice lady. Nawwy is the older man that sits next to the Terminator. I overheard him today talking about getting the giant Navy tattoo on his forearm and noticing just in time that the tattoo artist was misspelling the word "Navy".
I have to admit that I was completely mistaken about the Terminator. He is not a cyborg. He is simply a more highly evolved version of us. I say this because:
1. He has read about 1000 essays to my paltry 500.
2. He is not easily distractable.
3. He is far more accurate than the rest of us.
4. He makes excellent comments when we are training.
5. He is really funny. Today, we had an essay that said something about hippies liking disco. Then we read one with the hippies at Woodstock. He said, "I liked this one better because at least they had the hippies at Woodstock and not Studio 54". Then he made a joke about Chuck Colson that took about 5 minutes for me to get, but once I did, man, was it funny.
There was much speculation how someone can be that perfect between myself and Professor Dr. German. I think we are jealous. I think Terminator is wasting his gifts. We need him somewhere much higher on the power chain.
It was really funny when Anti-Snooki and Texas Fire ganged up on him during a discussion about television. Terminator was right but he did not rub it it. That is not his way.
After the work day, I met up with Roomie, A Boy Named Dana, and Brick Wall (previously He Who Lacked A Nickname) and we headed out with a couple of other people to a new pizza place nearby. It is kind of a tradition. Last year's trip to a pizza place was kind of a fiasco for me, as I was in the midst of my cash-flow problems and had to borrow money (see Kronikle Volume 3). I had a secret plan (cuz of Nixon, don't cha know) to pay a little of that back tonight but somehow I think I might have made money on the deal (that is what happens when 6 historians divide) but, whatever, I will get them back someday.
Anyway, the important thing is that we did not go to our usual place. We went to Bearno's. We got there and it smelled, powerfully, like polyurethane, liked they had just stained the wood. The young college student who would be our waiter attempted to seat us in the back. Once we sat down, he came back to tell us that since the swing band was playing, there would be a cover if we wanted to sit there, to which my dinner partners said "no" and I said "There is a swing band? What the hell?" So we relocated, ordered a gynormous all-meat pizza and commenced to the various conversations. I love listening to their conversations--I only understand a fraction of them since I don't really follow sports but they all have really quick wits so the jokes flow pretty fast. I looked up from the conversation and noticed that the bar area (everything, I mean, everything in Kentucky has liquor attached to it) was filling up with very properly dressed, very aged individuals. Then the saxophonist from the swing band (who totally knew Glenn Miller's older brother) looked at me and waved in the "Hey, babe, what CHOO doin?" kind of way. In about 20 minutes the bar went from fairly empty to full of obviously-not-Baptist, elderly people. Then the swing band started playing everyone's favorites from the 30s and 40s. It was kind of historical. And...I LIVED IT!
Unitl the next point in the Khronology, I remain...
Carrie the Red (stripe)
Here is what the ad in the Yellow pages said:
Laundry
Open 7 Days a Week
9AM to 9PM, 1036 S. 4th St.
Here is what the sign on the door at 1036 S. 4th St. said:
Mon-Fri: Blah Blah Blah
Sat: Blah Blah Blah
Sun: CLOSED
Guess what day I chose to do laundry?
1036 S. 4th St. is a decent, walkable distance from where I stay. It is about a mile, which is just about right for a walk that includes 10-15 pounds of laundry on a fairly humid, if not hot, day.
I learned once again (this is a lesson I learn every year because I am such a cheap skate and think I am going to get away with something cheap and easy every once in a while) that in a pinch, the Laundry and Tan Connection on 1907 S. 4th St also serves as a decent, walkable distance that includes 10-15 pounds of laundry on a fairly humid, if not hot, day.
Here's the thing though--I got to walk through neighborhoods that had spectacular churches, beautiful old houses, and regal public buildings (the de Paul Manuel High School is graduating its 156th class. Oklahoma has only been a state for two thirds that time!), In addition to the buildings that I had a giant urge to just walk up to and hug, the verdant flora was mesmerizing. Plants that would be brown and withered now in Oklahoma were bright green and in full flower. I probably saw 30 different kinds of flowers. At the time, I wished I had been granted extra limbs so I could take pictures as I walked (and the comparisons to Shiva would also have been welcome).
Got my clothes washed with a minimum of complication and/ or interference. The interference I did receive was helpful with direct, accurate answers to the questions, "Can you make change?" and "What is your address so I can call a cab?" I also received an unprovoked comment of "Hey, you are using a broken dryer." The Kentucky folks here are real sweet.
On the ride back (yes, I caved and paid for a cab), I talked to the guy in the cab. I speculate that he was probably not born here because he had a thick accent. He talked about how he used to work the night shift but drunk people are scary. Because he doesn't work those choice hours, he works 16 hours a day, 7 days a week in order to pay the rent on his cab. I asked him if there was anything he liked about his job. He didn't have anything. When I said I was a teacher, he said that was something he would like to do. He then told me he used to teach math for about 10 years. It was an interesting capstone to the immigrant question we finished yesterday.
There are 4 different questions scored in the Louisville Convention Center during the first three days. There are different sections of the hall where each question is graded, so I am in section 4. Each of the sections is divided by blue curtains and then there are entrances to the area without any curtains. Whenever I go to the restroom, I always like to go through the curtains instead of the entrance so I can pretend I am Johnny Carson.
Today was really interesting. We started our new question, the one everyone grades for the rest of the week. This year's question asks the student to identify and evaluate the domestic and international challenges facing the Nixon Administration, and the response of the administration to the challenges. We trained on the question today. Before I tell you about that, I must digress for a moment.
The second I sat down at the table the first day, I recognized the table leader reminded me of someone. I was not sure if it was someone I knew or someone famous. The second day, I could not pin it down. Then at lunch, yesterday, I figured it out. My table leader is disturbingly similar to my boss and mentor for about 7 years, Jack. Once I figured it out, it has only become more peculiar for a couple of reasons. First, now that I know what to look for, I have noticed that his pattern of speech is the same (although my table leader has a slight Southern accent), his personality is extremely similar, he looks like he could be related to Jack, and his laugh is EXACTLY THE SAME. Second, Jack was really important to my development, so I feel this allegiance to my table leader that is totally misplaced. Here's hoping I don't find myself in a situation where my table leader and I are on the street and a bus is headed straight for him.
All of this has an impact on my impression of today's discussion as we trained on the question. As we were training, Texas Fire, who sits next to my Tablemate (who has been renamed The Professor Dr. German) would regularly question some point on the training instructions with the pretty irrefutable "I LIVED THROUGH IT!" To which my Table Leader, Boss Part Deux, would gently respond, much like Jack did in the day on some issue, with a "Let's try not to let our personal feelings get in the way," or joke, "Well, I did too (for two years)". He also gets to deal with the fact that Texas Fire has remembered one comment he made the first day about how to score the essays and brings it up about 7 times a day. Boss Part Deux clearly has patience but that has to wear him out.
By the way, I have nicknames for the rest of my table now. Anti-Snooki sits between Texas Fire and Boss Part Deux (she is from New Jersey and DOES NOT talk like anyone from that show), Had lunch with her today. She is a nice lady. Nawwy is the older man that sits next to the Terminator. I overheard him today talking about getting the giant Navy tattoo on his forearm and noticing just in time that the tattoo artist was misspelling the word "Navy".
I have to admit that I was completely mistaken about the Terminator. He is not a cyborg. He is simply a more highly evolved version of us. I say this because:
1. He has read about 1000 essays to my paltry 500.
2. He is not easily distractable.
3. He is far more accurate than the rest of us.
4. He makes excellent comments when we are training.
5. He is really funny. Today, we had an essay that said something about hippies liking disco. Then we read one with the hippies at Woodstock. He said, "I liked this one better because at least they had the hippies at Woodstock and not Studio 54". Then he made a joke about Chuck Colson that took about 5 minutes for me to get, but once I did, man, was it funny.
There was much speculation how someone can be that perfect between myself and Professor Dr. German. I think we are jealous. I think Terminator is wasting his gifts. We need him somewhere much higher on the power chain.
It was really funny when Anti-Snooki and Texas Fire ganged up on him during a discussion about television. Terminator was right but he did not rub it it. That is not his way.
After the work day, I met up with Roomie, A Boy Named Dana, and Brick Wall (previously He Who Lacked A Nickname) and we headed out with a couple of other people to a new pizza place nearby. It is kind of a tradition. Last year's trip to a pizza place was kind of a fiasco for me, as I was in the midst of my cash-flow problems and had to borrow money (see Kronikle Volume 3). I had a secret plan (cuz of Nixon, don't cha know) to pay a little of that back tonight but somehow I think I might have made money on the deal (that is what happens when 6 historians divide) but, whatever, I will get them back someday.
Anyway, the important thing is that we did not go to our usual place. We went to Bearno's. We got there and it smelled, powerfully, like polyurethane, liked they had just stained the wood. The young college student who would be our waiter attempted to seat us in the back. Once we sat down, he came back to tell us that since the swing band was playing, there would be a cover if we wanted to sit there, to which my dinner partners said "no" and I said "There is a swing band? What the hell?" So we relocated, ordered a gynormous all-meat pizza and commenced to the various conversations. I love listening to their conversations--I only understand a fraction of them since I don't really follow sports but they all have really quick wits so the jokes flow pretty fast. I looked up from the conversation and noticed that the bar area (everything, I mean, everything in Kentucky has liquor attached to it) was filling up with very properly dressed, very aged individuals. Then the saxophonist from the swing band (who totally knew Glenn Miller's older brother) looked at me and waved in the "Hey, babe, what CHOO doin?" kind of way. In about 20 minutes the bar went from fairly empty to full of obviously-not-Baptist, elderly people. Then the swing band started playing everyone's favorites from the 30s and 40s. It was kind of historical. And...I LIVED IT!
Unitl the next point in the Khronology, I remain...
Carrie the Red (stripe)