Monday, November 14, 2005

Teaching at a cruel hour at my old school

Number of beginner oboe vermin I had to teach at an ungodly hour this morning: 3
Number of students that bothered to practice: 1
Number of stiff drinks I would like right now: You don't want to know.

Last week they all paid up for the term, which pleased me, but now I have nothing to look forward to. I just have to stagger up to the burbs every Monday morning until my obligation is fulfilled.

Notice that the school I used to go to, in the neighbourhood I grew up in, is nothing better than "the burbs" at that hour and when beginner oboists await.

By the end of it all, though, I'm usually cheerful, if they have practised.

This is the last year for the building; it was built in the '20s, hasn't changed at all since I went there in the '80s, and they will tear it down soon and replace it with something that looks like a factory.

At the very least, the new school will likely have practice rooms I can teach in, so I'm not stuck in the library computer lab or the National Dance studio. What it will lack, however, is a great pole in the middle of the girls' changeroom that is perfect for grabbing and swinging around until you are ready to throw up. I used to do that every day when I was a student there, grade 4 to 8. I tried it again last week, and felt like my arm would rip off. Too much weight and momentum now. Sigh. I still felt good and woozy.

I hope I can get in a few more swings around the changeroom pole before the school year ends and the building closes. As it is, I have to be careful to go in there when no one is around so I don't look like a terrible perv.


Anonymous Kelly said...

You know what I miss? Those crazy sinks in the girls changerooms (McKee had them, not sure if yours did...), the ones that you had to step on and it would turn on a fountain like thing. Definitely NOT enviromentally friendly, but nostalgic all the same.

November 14, 2005 1:48 p.m.  
Blogger Mrs. M. said...

Oh, we had those in my high school! I loved them. So old-fashioned, and so much better than having to touch a snot-encrusted tap. That building's gone now, too, and replaced with something that channels the decrepit-factory look of the back of the old one. (Bitter? Me? Never!)

November 14, 2005 4:14 p.m.  

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