My uncle Norm called me Thursday to recount his visit with his “favorite brother.” He’d flown into Evansville on Monday and out on Wednesday , and slept, not in my father’s house, but at the B&B Cool Breeze .

Talking to Norm reminded me that neither brother is all that good at answering direct questions. You would think a simple, declarative “yes” or “no” or “ I bought Skippy peanut butter” meant a midnight visit from Sister Helen Prejean. Inevitably, most answers are delivered cryptically, like a message inside a fortune cookie written by Will Rogers. However, if you don’t threaten them with a question, you’ll get a lot of information, and in the case of my uncle, delivered in a slow, almost southern drawl. When Norm talks I want to hop up on his lap.

Besides evading questions, there’s also this assumptive quality embedded in the Miller family. It’s either we assume you don’t care or assume you already know or assume it doesn’t make much difference. All this assuming leaves someone in the dark.

Here’s an example.

Norm: “You know, I met this Jeff guy while I was at your father’s house.”

Me: “He’s a good man.”

Norm: “Well he is. And you know what else? I like his politics.”

Me: “Of course.”

Norm: “ But you know what? (pregnant pause) In other families if you’re introduced to someone you get background information. Where they work, how they fit into the family, maybe even why they’re in your living room. But not in the Miller family. Millers leave all that for you to figure out.”

Michael,

After our last racquetball game on Thursday last, Katie revealed that she had asked Patrick to join us for a game of cut-throat sometime in the coming week . So tomorrow, Patrick, Katie, and their more-or-less healed dad will be hitting (gently, gently) the court.

Meanwhile, Dom has had the cast removed from his right hand, and he sends this:

Hi Ed,

Are you interested in a few games before you hit the road?

Dominic

Well, I’m trying to think of how to answer. I’ll wait until I survive tomorrow’s family game.

–rakkity

Goose dropped by Saturday for a short visit.

Diane asked, “How do like college? On a scale of one to ten? ”

Goose answered, “I’d say a seven, and I knocked those three points off because of the work.”

Seems to me most every kid we’ve talked to feels the same way. Should I be surprised?

Then Goose told us about his Mt. Monadnock climb with his girlfriend, Kristen. I think he said this was his third time up, but the first to watch the sunset. Now, the camping guys are always knocking around in the forest, balancing the need to explore with the need to come back alive. Hiking in the dark works – sort of – but only with good light, so I knew what was coming.

“It was hard climbing down.”

Yeah, now there’s an understatement. When the sun sets in the woods, it’s not a pleasantly receding light experience as it is in the city.

“We had two flashlights but they only showed small circles in front of us.”

The last time I hiked in the dark, I fell in a seven foot hole. Had it been ten feet deep, I’d still be there.

A program that no longer exists.

Lilly

Dash & Lilly

Lilly

Dash & Lilly

Jennifer

So, you wanted tales from college. This is a tale from middle school. 

First of all, you have to know that I am apparently known for my “Um”s. Students tally them. Two years ago I let on that I knew, and that didn’t improve the situation, so I’ve gone back to pretending that I have no idea why a pair of kids might be listening intently while simultaneously, apparently totally distracted by a tally sheet between them with, um, 40 – 80 tally marks on it. 

Earlier this week I noticed the students were oddly distracted in a different way. Something to do with their hands. Watching each other, not me. Suddenly I remembered “zap” – a student writes a time on the back of someone else’s hand, and a name on the inside. If the zapped student looks at the name before the time indicated, he/she has to … I didn’t know what. I thought maybe kiss the person, or ask them out, or something. Are you-all familiar with this game? 

Sure enough, that’s what they were playing. I couldn’t really find out what the rules are, because they know they shouldn’t be doing it. (Although they’ll claim it’s fine to play, they’ll lie about how it works.) Some students will challenge your authority to disallow it at school. But I did a pretty good job, I thought, both telling other teachers to be on the lookout for it, and telling the students they had to stop and there had to be no consequences to the zapped students for quitting NOW. 

One colleague decided to play it cool. She found out from older students (who play less innocent games) that if you look at the name before the indicated time, you have to ask the person out and kiss them. (Duh.) Then, in the next class, she got various students to show her their hands without letting on she knew about the game. I think she may have inflicted permanent psychological damage, because apparently she started laughing so hard she couldn’t teach when she saw the principal’s name and her own name – but those poor kids couldn’t check why she was laughing because their times weren’t up.      

Special Comment

Thought you might be interested in this video It’s a talk by the founder of the company that makes Movable Type,
among other things.

Charlie

chopkins.com