Tomorrow is April, still another one, and my thoughts remain on Jesse Stuart, not on him exactly but his writings. In addition to the poignant "Another April," another of his short stories which I presented to my classes of seventh and eighth graders dealt again with family matters:
The story centers on the family of a narrator in the persona of a young boy who lives with his parents and his mother's aging father. As was usual in those days, the father worked hard and wanted suppertime to be peaceful and the conversation, if there was such, to be on his terms. The family all sat at the supper table every evening, as was the custom in those days, including in this case the grandfather, here the father's in-law. The older man, his working days over, yet still yearning for conversation, would recount the happenings of his younger days, the most significant of which was his participation in the great American movement known as "Westering." All the events and adventures of crossing the plains and opening the west up to settlement were music to the ears of the little boy, but to his father they were anathema. "We've all heard that story countless times. You're repeating yourself. Yes, we know." These comments the father delivered through clenched teeth, his patience utterly exhausted. The mother would feel guilty that her father was such an irritant to her husband, but was powerless to remedy the situation. (The time before nursing homes.) The boy understands that his father is angry, and his mother upset, by the grandfather's stories, but he is too young to comprehend why---he loves hearing the stories repeated.
My students liked Stuart's writings, and their comprehension of the literature was more than adequate, as indicated by whatever test measures were in effect at the time. They undoubtedly sympathized with the character of the young boy, being themselves only several years older than he. And I most likely did also, being in my early twenties, with no experience as parent or aged grandparent, and with memories of my childhood still fresh in my mind. Thus is a present memory of my past teaching days and of a particular story. Some of the facts may be clouded by time but past memories remain a quixotic thing; it is almost as if, though relating most closely to the youngest of the generations involved, I was storing up sympathies with the older characters: Act I, Act II, and finally Act III.
Monday, March 31, 2014
Spring
In bloom in front of my house is a very small yellow crocus, maybe not the earliest, but definitely the most intrepid.
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Cars and Taxes
I was at the Mechanicville's McDonald's last week when I spotted, in the notoriously unassuming little strip mall across from the parking lot, two storefronts whose services I could use: Advance Auto and H & R Block. The rear bumper of my car is missing paint where it was evidently "kissed" either by some vehicle using our driveway to turn around in, or else by some delivery truck. I walked into Advance Auto, and the clerk told me to bring in the Color Code and they would most likely have the touchup paint for late model cars. Then I walked next door into H&R Block to ask for help in straightening out my tax return which has me stymied trying to compute the required distribution on a retirement account. I knew I'd made some errors which I'd subsequently corrected but I didn't want to keep messing things up any further. The receptionist at the desk referred me to a Senior Tax Consultant, a very congenial man who tried to give me some advice on the spot, before saying I could make an appointment and return with my paperwork if I wished.
I did return this week, to both establishments. I diligently brought my Color Code into Advance Auto, where the clerk checked their inventory only to find they did not stock that color. Surprising since the car is a 2012 Honda and the color is WHITE. While there may be many shades of gray, there are only 2 shades of white for that year, and they have the other, Taffeta White, but not Orchid Pearl White. So be it. I'll go to the dealer, as he suggested.
Next I went right next door, to H&R Block, having made an appointment with the specialist I'd previously spoken with. I'd arranged my files as best I could, and was prepared to spend a few hundred dollars to get this thing settled, and back on the right track. I was ushered into a cubicle, with computer of course, and we started to go over my records, with me explaining what I'd done or tried to do, and what I'd failed to do. For the next hour and fifteen minutes, we talked taxes and other things, with his verifying data on the computer, and explaining some of the ins and outs of our federal tax code. Finally, he said that he could file for me, but that he thought I was in a position to do the same myself. So I agreed, kind of exhausted, and went to the desk to pay for services rendered. He told me there was no fee, that he'd enjoyed talking to me, and wished me good luck.
Mechanicville is a nice little city or town which seemingly has a lot to offer, but is sorely lacking in productivity. I have come to feel much the same about myself: I have every intention of accomplishing something, but am unable to make things happen. Can't even buy paint or pay taxes......
I did return this week, to both establishments. I diligently brought my Color Code into Advance Auto, where the clerk checked their inventory only to find they did not stock that color. Surprising since the car is a 2012 Honda and the color is WHITE. While there may be many shades of gray, there are only 2 shades of white for that year, and they have the other, Taffeta White, but not Orchid Pearl White. So be it. I'll go to the dealer, as he suggested.
Next I went right next door, to H&R Block, having made an appointment with the specialist I'd previously spoken with. I'd arranged my files as best I could, and was prepared to spend a few hundred dollars to get this thing settled, and back on the right track. I was ushered into a cubicle, with computer of course, and we started to go over my records, with me explaining what I'd done or tried to do, and what I'd failed to do. For the next hour and fifteen minutes, we talked taxes and other things, with his verifying data on the computer, and explaining some of the ins and outs of our federal tax code. Finally, he said that he could file for me, but that he thought I was in a position to do the same myself. So I agreed, kind of exhausted, and went to the desk to pay for services rendered. He told me there was no fee, that he'd enjoyed talking to me, and wished me good luck.
Mechanicville is a nice little city or town which seemingly has a lot to offer, but is sorely lacking in productivity. I have come to feel much the same about myself: I have every intention of accomplishing something, but am unable to make things happen. Can't even buy paint or pay taxes......
Saturday, March 29, 2014
"Another April"
When I was a young junior high English teacher, one of the contemporary authors we studied was Jesse Stuart, a renowned writer of the time. One of his short stories was called "Another April." A young boy describes how his mother carefully bundles his grandfather up on an April day before the old man leaves the house on his first walk of the year around the family's farm. The grandfather is old now, and has been confined to the house all winter; as he gets ready to go outside, his daughter dresses him warmly, tying a scarf around his neck, although the weather is warm. The young boy doesn't understand why his mother is so concerned about her father: he's too young to know of his mother's awareness that her father's run of Aprils will soon come to an end. The child is aware that his grandfather's walks used to take him across the fields and out of sight, and that the walks have become shorter; this year his grandfather stays close to the house. The boy is still young enough not to realize that things can not remain the same forever.
I taught this story to twelve-year-olds when I was in my early twenties. Whatever they extrapolated from the story was never fully certain, though they seemed interested in it. I believed at the time that I fully understood the theme, that the cycle of life is ongoing, yet also involves dying and death. But that understanding was 2 generations ago, and an awful lot of Aprils have passed by since then. In just 2 days from now----another April.
I taught this story to twelve-year-olds when I was in my early twenties. Whatever they extrapolated from the story was never fully certain, though they seemed interested in it. I believed at the time that I fully understood the theme, that the cycle of life is ongoing, yet also involves dying and death. But that understanding was 2 generations ago, and an awful lot of Aprils have passed by since then. In just 2 days from now----another April.
Troy to Pinellas and Back Again
If I hear one more report on the pursuit of the alleged pedophile, I'm going to either throw my TV out the window, or just throw up. For sure, he is a depraved sicko if guilty as charged, but parents should be able to protect their very young children from such horrifying abuse. How does a person like the accused gain access to little kids without anyone's knowing, or at least suspecting, that something is terribly wrong. As far as we know, he didn't kidnap those kids. So it probably wasn't a major threat to society when he was on the loose for a brief time. It would seem likely that an accomplice was involved, or someone who granted him access to the little kids. Egad.
I hate myself...
when, out of utter boredom, I open a site with a story such as the mutant rat which terrorized a family. From utter boredom to sheer disgust.......
Cheapskate
I donate to charities on a regular basis, and I have the receipts to prove it, so I resent it when I feel like a cheapskate by not accepting a plea for a donation; there are some requests that I just don't feel comfortable complying with:
1) I believe it should be illegal for anyone, worthy cause or not, to block highway traffic and ask you to deposit money in a canister. It seems dangerous to all concerned. I've even seen young children crossing back and forth in the roadway asking for contributions so their dance group can attend a function somewhere. They should seek other avenues for fundraising. Or maybe it would be more constructive to teach the kids the work ethic as an alternative to begging.
2) Any solicitation by telephone is suspect. At best, only a small percentage of the funds collected is received by the charity. Those calls for the benefit of law enforcement are especially reprehensible because there is the implicit threat of increased criminal activity if money is not raised. And in the tragic event of the death or disability of police officers, are there not generous insurance policies in effect to offset losses. There should be.
3) Requests for contributions by clerks in grocery or department stores seem to be on the rise. You've clipped grocery coupons, sought out bargain prices, and purchased generic brands to save a few dollars, only to be asked if you want to contribute to some good cause or other. It's awkward for both the asker and the asked. Stop the practice; people go to the grocery store to buy groceries, not to give to charity.
4) This one is a little different; it concerns raffles, with more recent impact. You attend a function, say at a school, sometimes by paid admission and sometimes free. Raffle tickets are being sold, usually for a dollar apiece or ten for five dollars or so, on the 50:50 basis, with half the proceeds going to the cause and the other half to the lucky winner. Past practice I've observed has the winner donating the prize money back to the charity. And usually with a public acknowledgment. I understand that's what is expected, though not mandated. How many different forms of intimidation exist? I would rather pay a set admission price than go through the travesty of the pseudo-raffle where you gamble, you win, renounce your win, and then accept your due by bathing in the glow of self righteousness. It's either a win-win situation or a lose-lose situation; you figure it out.
1) I believe it should be illegal for anyone, worthy cause or not, to block highway traffic and ask you to deposit money in a canister. It seems dangerous to all concerned. I've even seen young children crossing back and forth in the roadway asking for contributions so their dance group can attend a function somewhere. They should seek other avenues for fundraising. Or maybe it would be more constructive to teach the kids the work ethic as an alternative to begging.
2) Any solicitation by telephone is suspect. At best, only a small percentage of the funds collected is received by the charity. Those calls for the benefit of law enforcement are especially reprehensible because there is the implicit threat of increased criminal activity if money is not raised. And in the tragic event of the death or disability of police officers, are there not generous insurance policies in effect to offset losses. There should be.
3) Requests for contributions by clerks in grocery or department stores seem to be on the rise. You've clipped grocery coupons, sought out bargain prices, and purchased generic brands to save a few dollars, only to be asked if you want to contribute to some good cause or other. It's awkward for both the asker and the asked. Stop the practice; people go to the grocery store to buy groceries, not to give to charity.
4) This one is a little different; it concerns raffles, with more recent impact. You attend a function, say at a school, sometimes by paid admission and sometimes free. Raffle tickets are being sold, usually for a dollar apiece or ten for five dollars or so, on the 50:50 basis, with half the proceeds going to the cause and the other half to the lucky winner. Past practice I've observed has the winner donating the prize money back to the charity. And usually with a public acknowledgment. I understand that's what is expected, though not mandated. How many different forms of intimidation exist? I would rather pay a set admission price than go through the travesty of the pseudo-raffle where you gamble, you win, renounce your win, and then accept your due by bathing in the glow of self righteousness. It's either a win-win situation or a lose-lose situation; you figure it out.
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