Baltimore Diary

In The Home Stretch

2009-07-05T13:03:29-04:00

[June has prepared a dinner of barbecued pork ribs]
Ward Cleaver: Well, you boys are very quiet tonight. What are you thinking about?
Theodore "Beaver" Cleaver: I was just thinkin' what I'd do if I was a pig eatin' peoples ribs.
June Cleaver: Beaver, please.

--Leave It To Beaver (1957)

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For those of you who asked--and I thank you for your interest--the decision on the job I applied for was pushed back. Essentially, they learned that they couldn't get the candidates on the Board of Ed's hiring list for a July 1 start, so they decided to take their time with the process rather than do a rush job. So it'll probably be another week before any candidate learns anything.

So we're in the final week of preparation for our annual Pig Roast on Saturday. (If you're interested in coming, drop me a line and I'll send you details!) As I type this, there's a guy out back trying desperately to finish putting a combination deck/ramp on the back of the house. The ramp is there to accommodate my mother and a few other relatives who have mobility issues. It's not a "legal" ramp in that it's only a little more than half as long as it ought to be, but on the other hand, it's only a temporary structure. In a few weeks he'll come back, tear it out and put stairs on the deck. This is a guy who takes a big pile of pride in his work, however, and other than the length he's building it to code. You need some light construction work done? This is the man. You can drop me a line for his info, too.

So the pig is ordered, the last of the shopping lists is about written up, we're cleaning and polishing up some of the landscaping, and GF is in Full Panic Mode, which she doesn't usually do until about 48 hours before we have a big party.

And make no mistake, this is a Big Deal, baby: as near as anyone can figure, this will be the first time in about twenty years that my mother and my father have been in the same place. (No animosity, just distance.) This will also be the first time in forever that both of my brothers have come to one of my parties. So a lot of family will be here in addition to friends and co-workers. This is the One Not To Miss. We've also got something special planned for the evening that I think will make it more interesting and fun. (Would you like a hint? Yes? Well, YOU CAN'T HAVE ONE.)

So Mom and one brother are coming on Thursday night; Dad is bringing Daughter down on Friday evening, my other brother will probably be making a round-trip Saturday, I've got friends coming in from Chicago who--last I heard--are still trying to secure lodging...I hear that at least one other guy is coming down from Long Island...it's gonna be a wild and crazy weekend, but a pile of fun when we look at it in retrospect.

UPDATE from nine seconds after I posted this: the guy working on the deck brought his son along. He'd been playing with Wee One for awhile but got bored and decided to hang out with Dad. Unfortunately, this resulted in an accident where the boy has a cut to his scalp and they're enroute to the ER to get what's likely to be a couple of stitches.

This is where lesser people would say "Why does everything happen to me??" but I'm not panicking yet.

News From The Other Side of the World

2009-07-03T17:27:00-04:00

Mandy Hampton: I was thinking that it would be a good idea, as a symbol to signal how serious we are about our relationship with China, if we asked them for another bear.
Toby Ziegler: I think it would be a good idea as a symbol to signal that China is serious about their relationship with us if they stop running over their citizens with tanks.

--The West Wing, "Six Meetings Before Lunch" (4/5/00)

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So my neighbor Simone, whom I usually refer to as "S", is going to China in a couple of weeks to attend law school over there and find out what they know about it. She's been planning this trip since around the time we moved in next to her (as soon as she saw us get out of the moving van, she called her travel agent, I think), and the day of departure is imminent, now.

She'll do a few weeks of prep work, solidifying her Chinese skills, I guess to get ahold of the local dialect. Then she'll be attending law classes at Shangdong University.

But the cool part of all this is that Simone has decided to chronicle her year abroad in a blog. So take a minute to bookmark this site: Adventures Abroad and then go over there and wish her godspeed. We hear that her going-away party will be an entire day of bacchanalia, so try to get invited.

Priorities

2009-07-02T23:32:04-04:00

Dick Gregory: Michael Jackson is a perfect reason as to the greatness of this country. Where else can a poor black boy from Gary, Indiana grow up to be a rich white man?

--Comedy Central Presents: The NY Friars Club Roast of Hugh Hefner (2001)

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I really didn't want to do this topic, but what the hell.

Does anyone remember Chevy Chase doing the Weekend Updates in the first season or so of Saturday Night Live? For months there was a running gag centered around the death of Generalissimo Francisco Franco: "Generalissimo Francisco Franco is still dead." "Generalissimo Francisco Franco is still valiantly holding on in his struggle to remain dead." The gag was a response to months of NBC News tossing in "Franco's death is imminent" references every time they had a slow news day.

This is what we're dealing with, with Michael Jackson all over again. But the difference is, it's not really Michael Jackson dominating the news that's getting to me. It's Michael Jackson overshadowing Farrah Fawcett.

Let us turn back the clock a little bit.

When Princess Diana was killed in the car crash, we went through the same kind of wall-to-wall coverage. Diana's death was sad and all; nobody likes to see someone die, especially before their time. But in the end, enough was enough. And about a week later, God gave the press a karmic wedgie and Mother Teresa died. And even though, in any given weekend, Mother Teresa did probably a metric shitload more for the poor and hungry than Diana did in her entire life, the Diana funeral coverage overshadowed the Mother Teresa coverage.

In fact, I have a memory of a conversation I had with someone during which I noted how sick I was of all the Diana coverage. I said something like, "Mother Teresa's death isn't going to get half the press that Diana's getting." She shot back, "Well, I guess we'll see when Mother Teresa dies." That's when I broke it to her that Teresa had died the previous day. End of conversation.

So anyway, this is what we're dealing with this time around: Farrah Fawcett died last Thursday morning. Absolutely every thing I've heard or seen in the press centers around what a wonderful person she was; how sweet she was and that she was a decent actress who tried to play against type; the relationship she had with Ryan O'Neal and so on how she'll be missed and all that. Everything--absolutely everything that I've seen--has been positive. Even the iconic poster (which, oddly, I didn't have on my wall) has a story behind it which describes how wonderful she was throughout the photo shoot. Apparently, the suit was one of the last things she was photographed in that day. A whole day of being photographed and she still managed to break out a smile as dazzling as that. Seriously, that's a professional at work.

Now, a brief look at Michael Jackson. A talented performer, to be sure, but also a very troubled person. And when you looked at the coverage, there was certainly a mixture of the good and the bad. The "Thriller" album, the plastic surgery. The Moonwalk, the allegations of molestation. Neverland being constructed, Neverland being thisclose to foreclosure. "Black and White" the song, Black and White the skin tone. And the comments from people on websites didn't run a gamut, it was more like polarization. Saint and sinner, good guy and bad guy. He'll be missed, he should burn in hell. And yet, this is the figure who gets the attention, the one who gets the coverage. He was nothing if not controversial, this much is universally accepted. But he--and his behavior, whether crazy or bad or whatever, is what gets noticed.

Nice guys finish last, even after they die.

Running the Gauntlet

2009-06-24T20:21:32-04:00

Charlie Young: Before your next job interview with the President, I'm gonna remind you that you probably don't wanna be stoned.
Deborah Fiderer: There's gonna be a second interview?
Charlie Young: There's gonna be as many as it takes. We're gonna get this right.
Deborah Fiderer: Well let me back you up a second. Have we done the first one yet?

--The West Wing, "Posse Comitatus" (5/22/02)

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A couple of weeks ago, I applied for a new position in the Baltimore City school system.

The short version of this is that Central Office is going through a radical shift in its organization, and after discussing it with about half of the population of Maryland, I finally decided that being part of that would be a pretty good thing (i.e., they talked me into it). So I put a package together and sent it in.

Last week, while I was out being blind, I got an email from Human Resources: I'd made the first cut and they wanted to interview me on the 24th, from 8:15 until 2:00. Really? An interview lasting nearly six hours?

Turns out that was no typo. It was that long, and it was rather efficient. There were seven of us today, all in a group. They took us down to a computer lab and introduced themselves, then explained how the day was going to go. I lucked out because my day was probably the most straightforward:

First up was the panel interview. I was taken to another office and two people peppered me with different questions. Most of them had little to do with my education, but more like the highlights of my school career, then moved on to working with others type of stuff, dealing with difficult people, handling unreasonable requests and so on. Then there was a mini role-playing situation where I'm supposed to be explaining to an Assistant Principal the significance of some data they'd handed me a few minutes earlier.

From there, I went back down to the computer lab. I was given a slip of paper which outlined a situation. From this I was to create a Microsoft Excel spreadsheet and a related PowerPoint presentation. They gave me (I think) two hours to complete this, and I literally needed every second of it. I'm still not positive that I gave them quite what they were looking for, but I think did a decent job of it anyway. If nothing else, I've shown some ability to use both programs.

Next was a lunch break for everyone. They provided lunches for us, and that was quite nice of them. There was a little bit of general chatter going on, and some of us had questions about the position, the start date, the pay scale, and so forth. The bottom line is that I stand to take a nice little bump if I'm hired, but I'll definitely be working for it: the training period (essentially the month of July) that was described for us sounds pretty intensive. And they haven't created our work area yet, so we'll be homeless for that first month. (On the other hand, I've been a homeless Lead ITA for a year, so nothing new there. I'm sure my current principal will be happy to see all that crap that's currently cluttering up the conference room go somewhere else.

Finally, after lunch, there was a discussion related to a case study that was sent to us a few days ago. Everyone had had a chance to read this piece, and we were asked some leading questions about it. This is what they call a "fishbowl" discussion, because while we're sitting there spouting our opinions, a couple of other people are writing down who says what, who contributed to the conversation, and so forth. I don't know that I was the best at this part of the day (a couple of them were pretty good), but I was certainly in the top three, anyway.

And that was it. By then it was nearly 2:30, and they said that they were going to sit down and go over all of the notes they'd compiled throughout the day, and someone would evaluate our computer work, and so by Monday I should know whether I'll have a new job title starting seven days from now.

If I sound a little ambivalent about how I did with the interview, I am. But for me that's not necessarily a bad thing. When I'm feeling cocky and "oh yeah, I blew them away", I rarely get hired. It's when I come away feeling a little bit like I blew it, that good stuff tends to happen.

Thanks again for all the good vibes you've been sending, and wish me luck!

Was Blind, But Now I See

2009-06-20T23:26:30-04:00

[Randy is temporarily blind]
Randy: It's not fun being blind. Why is Stevie Wonder always smiling?

--My Name is Earl, "Monkeys in Space" (1/26/06)

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I was going to do a post about my trip to the funeral and stuff, but frankly there wasn't much interesting about it, except for the pastor who insisted that my stepfather isn't dead, "He's only sleeping!" and used the story of Lazarus to back him up. And me, about to go up there and say a few words, including the poem from my last post with the line "I do not sleep." Heh.

But there were some consequences to the trip home, and some subsequent activities. Friday was the funeral itself, and afterward there was a gathering at my mother's place, where we served food and beverages (both soft and adult), and after that we headed over to my brother's to continue the memories and the consumption of the drinks. As a result, by the time I went to bed, I'd neglected to remove my contact lenses, which means waking up with a pretty uncomfortable feeling in my eyes. I took them out for a few minutes, rinsed them off and popped them back in. Then we packed our stuff and headed out to the Lucky Dill for lunch. (If you're ever in the area, you MUST go there. If you don't, you should go out and kill yourself. End of story.) After this (and one or two more necessary quick stops), we hit the road to head back to Baltimore.

We weren't in a huge hurry, but we were hoping to reach Florence, SC, which makes a decent midway point for us. This we did, but it was nearly 1:00 AM by the time we got there. On Sunday we got up, got some breakfast and finished the trip, with the usual stopover at the outlet stores at Exit 95. Between the late start, the shopping and the bad weather, we got into Baltimore around 11:00 that night.

Monday: I went to work and met with my boss for the day. That night I was watching movies on TCM and fell asleep on the sofa, again with my contacts in.

This, I learned, is a Bad Thing.

On Tuesday morning I woke up and, as is common for waking up with the contacts in, my eyes were kind of uncomfortable. I took them out, gave them a rinse and put them back in again. My vision was a little blurry, but I chalked that up to the lenses themselves being close to the end of their lives. (I should be able to use a pair for about a month before I have to change them.) On the other hand, my left eye was still kind of uncomfortable. After a little while I said "the hell with it" and put in a new pair. The blurriness didn't go away, nor did the discomfort. Uh-oh. I took the contacts out and began putting astringent drops in my eyes every 10-15 minutes. This didn't help, either. In fact, it rapidly got worse until any light source was unbearably painful to look at. The left eye was in agony and even when I closed it, it hurt to look at the light with my right eye. Finally, GF said, "OK, that's enough" and took me to the Emergency Room at GBMC.

By this point, I had to keep both eyes closed while she led me to the car and piled me into the back seat, where the windows are tinted a little darker. We rode to the ER and she led me inside, where I explained my problem. Naturally, they ask for my insurance card and ID before they're going to do anything. Fortunately I always keep them in the same places in my wallet and I pulled them out for the receptionist, who asked me to "sign here" (where? Point, please, and I'll peek through the good eye) and then have a seat, where I sat with my eyes still closed.

A few minutes later they put a wristband on me. I held it up for GF to inspect for accuracy. That may sound dumb, but when I was in there back in November getting my nose fixed, my wristband originally had me as a female. So yeah, we'll be double-checking that one.

Some time later we were called into "the eye room". GF led me in and they put me in the chair. I had GF shut off the lights, so the only source of light was from the hallway. Still too much. Some time later, the doctor came in and put some anesthetic drops in my eyes. About a minute later, hey! I can see again! My eye still hurt like hell but at least I could see.

He put this fluorescent dye in my eyes and looked them over. He didn't see anything in the left eye (the one that hurt) but did see what appeared to be an ulcerated spot in the right. He left to call the opthalmologist and left us alone again. About a half hour later, the sensitivity started again. I later learned that the way the dye works is that it will normally remain in the tears outside the eye, but if there's an abnormality in the surface of the cornea, the dye will stick to that and turn it green. Who knew!

GF saw the bottle of anesthetic drops on the counter and considered just putting them in my eyes again, but I told her to ask the doctor. This turned out to be a good idea. Apparently there's a side effect of overusing these drops: it tends to eat away at your eyeballs. But the doctor said that we could use them once more and sent in the nurse to put them in.

Finally he came back and told me that the right eye ulcer may be the problem, and gave me antibiotic cream for the eyelid (ecch) and also antibiotic drops, and a prescription for percocet so I can get some sleep. He also told us to call the eye clinic the next day and insist on a followup visit that same day.

Next day: still with my eyes closed, we returned to GBMC and went to the eye clinic. Again GF led me through the parking garage, down hallways and so forth, into an elevator and up to the clinic's floor. While checking me in, the receptionist asked GF a few questions about me that I could easily have answered. Finally, I said, "Um, you know I'm here, right?" The receptionist said "Yes, but your eyes are closed." I'm STANDING here, honey; that probably means I'm not asleep.

Into the exam room after a short wait and more eyeball-eating drops so I can see. Another exam and the eye doctor, who coincidentally is a nice bit of eye candy (a very nice person to see when one's vision returns, thank you). She told me that the "ulcer" in the right was some small blood vessels that had gotten into the cornea, which was unusual but not especially dangerous or painful, and appeared to be quite old. The theory is that they're from the time I scratched the cornea in that eye over 20 years ago. The left eye, on the other hand, was showing definite signs of my having worn the contacts waaay too much.

No matter what anyone says, contact lenses are not gas-permeable (or at least, not as much as they'd have you believe) and they prevent air from getting to your eyeballs. Consequently, the cornea can actually start to die from oxygen starvation. This is what was beginning to happen to me, but fortunately it was caught early. Also fortunately, eyeballs tend to heal relatively quickly.

So I got benched from work for the rest of the week, and I'm on a two-week vacation from wearing the contacts. As I type this, my distance vision is still slightly affected, but the light sensitivity is finally gone. And come Monday I start making up a lot of work.

In Pace Requiescat

2009-06-07T22:49:13-04:00

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am in a thousand winds that blow,

I am the softly falling snow.

I am the gentle showers of rain,

I am the fields of ripening grain.

I am in the morning hush,

I am in the graceful rush

Of beautiful birds in circling flight,

I am the starshine of the night.

I am in the flowers that bloom,

I am in a quiet room.

I am in the birds that sing,

I am in each lovely thing.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there. I do not die.

--Mary Elizabeth Frye

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The call finally came from my brother in Florida. My stepfather died this evening.

Mom, of course, is a mess. From the day he went into Hospice, about nine weeks ago, she spent all of five nights away from his side. The Hernando-Pasco Hospice people, I can't say enough nice things about them. They were incredibly supportive to the both of them this entire time. They were helpful when my grandfather died and now they're helping out for my stepfather. They offer a world of support and they don't charge a dime. You want to do something nice? Send them a few bucks.

So tomorrow I'll be going to work, in order to get my stuff lined up for the rest of the week: coverages and so forth. I'm probably going to cancel two meetings and have them held after school ends. The others, I'll figure something out. GF and I will be heading south at the end of the day.

I've posted before about how sick he'd been, and how he didn't expect to see another Christmas and so forth. Apparently when he first went to Hospice, he wasn't too clear on just how bad it was. He asked my mother and she told him, "about as bad as it gets." He wasn't happy to hear that, of course, but he appreciated being told the truth and was more or less able to handle the facts. He was a man of deep faith and I think that gave him some measure of peace.

In one sense, there are better reasons to go to Florida. On the other hand, there's no better reason than being with family at times like this.

Breaking Out

2009-06-04T01:09:13-04:00

Cliff Huxtable: Oh,oh-oh! You see, the kids these days, they listen to the rap music, which gives them the brain damage. With the hippin' and the hoppin' and the bippin' and the boppin', they don't know what the jazz is all about. Y'see, jazz is like Jello pudding... no, that's not it. Jazz is like Kodak film... no, that's not right neither. I've got it, jazz is like the new Coke - it'll be around forever.

--The Simpsons, "'Round Springfield" (4/30/95)

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A few days ago, I read a review in Newsweek of a book called How the Beatles Destroyed Rock & Roll (picture pretty obviously nicked from Amazon). The conceit behind the book is that most musical history books have a very narrow viewpoint and tend to view musical trends in a vacuum, rather than conceding that artists take what came before and imitate, or build on it. Elvis Presley, for example (the review points out), sang syrupy ballads before he set foot in Sun Studios and became The King. Likewise other artists noted that they were fans of, or were influenced by, musicians whose style was rather different from their own.

It wasn't as though, say, jazz ended and bop started; or R&B suddenly stopped and made way for the British Invasion. One was a logical extension of the other. This got me thinking about people who will complain that modern music is just so much crap.

Look, Sturgeon's Law holds true in that 90% of everything is crap. (And, in the case of Baltimore Diary, perhaps 95%. We strive to exceed around here.) The 60s had crappy music but it also had some of the greatest music we've ever heard, or ever will hear. But you know what? The same thing could be said of the 70s, the 80s, the 90s and even today. Examples? Sure:

The Decade	The Good	The Bad
1960s	The Beatles The Doors The Rolling Stones The Beach Boys	Bobby Goldsboro The Osmonds The New Vaudeville Band Frank & Nancy Sinatra Duet
1970s	Led Zeppelin Queen Elton John The Eagles	Morris Albert Captain & Tennille Tony Orlando & Dawn Leo Sayer And let's not even go down the Disco road, OK?
1980s	Duran Duran Pat Benatar U2 Talking Heads	New Kids On the Block Starship (despite my fondness for Jefferson Airplane) Lionel Richie Will to Power
1990s	Liz Phair Nirvana Smashing Pumpkins Mazzy Star	Billy Ray Cyrus Hanson Michael Bolton Celine Dion

Now, obviously this is a subjective list; you can agree or disagree at will. I don't really care one way or the other. But my point is that each decade takes something from its predecessor: The Beatles took from Chuck Berry, Led Zeppelin from the blues, Duran Duran from The Beatles, Liz Phair from the Rolling Stones, and Linda Ronstadt took from everyone. (Honest to god, does she have any singles that weren't covers?)

Nowadays we have Radiohead, the White Stripes, Lucinda Williams and Green Day among others; all of which are building on what went before. (Green Day was especially egregious about their theft early on, but they've come a long way.) It just seems to be too blanket a statement to say "there's no good music anymore." Today's music--today's GOOD music--owes a debt to yesterday, and when we can see the influence of the past, then we're making a connection to our own roots.

Otherwise, we're just a step away from telling those damn kids to get off our lawns.

This Just In

2009-05-26T22:10:30-04:00

Stephen Colbert: The cereal once known as "Sugar Pops" then as "Corn Pops" has changed its name once again to "Pops". They already took out the sugar. Now they've taken out the corn. What the hell is left? Now I've always been suspicious of this particular cereal. It comes in that foil bag as if we needed extra shielding from some sort of radio active output. Plus it has no mascot. I just don't trust a kids cereal that can't even get a cartoon animal to endorse it.

--The Colbert Report, "Dan Senor" (3/22/06)

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According to this report, the world's oldest blogger has died:

MADRID - A Spanish great-grandmother who described herself as the world's oldest blogger — and became a Web sensation as she mused on events current and past — has died at the age of 97.

Maria Amelia Lopez died May 20 in her hometown of Muxia in Spain's northwest Galicia region, according to her blog amis95.blogspot.com.

I bet the prime suspect is the second-oldest blogger in the world.

Thank you, I'll be here all week.

Thank You.

2009-05-25T00:01:00-04:00

Arlington National Cemetery

Baltimore National Cemetery

Calverton National Cemetery. My grandfahter is buried here.

Raising the flag at Iwo Jima

Vietnam Women's Memorial

Normandy

Tomb of the Unknowns

Gettysburg

Vietnam Veterans Memorial

Vietnam Memorial

World War I Memorial

In Which I Get Dooced Before I'm Even Hired

2009-05-21T00:02:40-04:00

Bill Maher: New Rule: Bluetooth headset users have to do something that lets me know you're just on the phone and not a dangerous schizophrenic. Right? We don't know if you're talking to your secretary or the evil leprechaun who lives in your head. You're not the chief communications officer of the Starship Enterprise. You're a shoe salesman asking your mom if you can bring over your laundry. If I wanted to overhear every tedious scrap of brain static rattling around in your head, I'd read your blog.

--Real Time With Bill Maher (3/17/06)

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A few days ago I posted a story about my visit to the City Schools' job fair, which gathered a ton of hits (almost 500 over two days, largely thanks to Sara Neufeld's linking to it from the Baltimore Sun's Inside Ed blog) and even generated a few comments, which are kind of rare in these parts. If you haven't read that post, go ahead. I'll wait here for you.

Ready? OK. You'll recall that I spoke with the representatives from a school who were recruiting to replace a friend of mine. As it happened, I lost my cell phone the day after the fair, because I'm pretty good at that sort of thing. So they finally got through to me on the Tuesday following the fair. They were impressed by our chat and wanted to meet with me. I made arrangements for the following Tuesday, yesterday, in the afternoon.

I wound up having to call the school to push the meeting back a little bit because of an emergency meeting for a student and they were OK with that. After the meeting, I drove down to the school and checked in with the secretary. She led me to a room, where they asked me to sit in the lobby for a minute while they finished whatever they were working on.

A minute later, a man came out and, despite the fact that I'd met him at the fair, introduced himself. Well, what the heck. I shook my hand and introduced myself (again). He said to me "Yeah, we met at the fair." Yes, we did, I confirmed, and we walked back into the room.

There were three people in the room, two of whom I'd met at the fair, and a third man, who was introduced to me. Then one of them started telling me the story of the school, and the IEP Team Associate position in particular and how it fit into the broader story.

One of the things that struck me as odd was the fact that this guy was willing to discuss some of the specifics of my friend's situation, how her position was getting cut back and some of the discussion that had taken place. I always thought that personnel issues were confidential, but what do I know? I'm a teacher-level employee.

The other thing was that, as he told this whole story, he felt free to lace it with what some Star Trek fans might call "colorful metaphors". IEPs from thus-and-such school were "shitty"; this thing was "fucked up" and so on. I'm not a prude by any means, but I don't usually speak this way, and I'm sure you've noticed that I don't usually use such words in this blog. Swearing has a specific purpose for me and I would have to get caught off-guard to use it in a school setting, even if nearly all the students are out of the building for the day. It doesn't feel professional. But, to each his own. This was essentially a second chance for us each to make a good first impression and it wasn't going well, perhaps for both of us.

Then he let the bomb drop, however subtly. He let it be known that he'd read the post and that he recognized himself in it. The conversation turned toward a defense of the school and how they represented themselves and like that, and how they're not liars. I'm not sure if he was expecting me to apologize or what, but finally I said simply that this was my impression of the day, this is what I saw, this is what happened, and who knew that this coincidental thing was going to happen.

Then they asked if I had any questions, and I said not really; I'd learned a lot from the other day's conversation and that I liked the approach that they took toward the educational model. I also noted that there were times when I needed to break schools out of their special education models because they were so entrenched, so I was of a similar mindset to theirs in that respect. They asked about where I was currently working, and I noted that my current school (the one that isn't killing the position entirely) is increasing to a half-time ITA. "Is that going to be you?" they asked. "Yeah, if I want it," I replied. Then they asked what I'd like to do. I told them I'd prefer a full-time position but I recognize the realities of the job and would take two half-times without complaining too loudly. They nodded, shook my hand again and that was that.

So at this point I'm not sure what really happened there. Did they have me come in anyway so that they could tell me that the jig was up? Did they expect an apology from me (in which case, they don't know me very well)? They didn't really offer me the job with them, so far as I could tell, but maybe I didn't read the cues carefully enough. At any rate, this one has taken a bit of a weird turn, so I think I'm going to have to pass.