Counting Up...Counting Down

Tick Tick Tick Tick....

I keep joking to my fellow teachers that they need to speak up since all I can hear is the ticking of the countdown clock that is finally bringing about the end of the year.  It is only eleven days until the end of the school year.  Not teaching days, eleven days.  And not that anyone is counting, but to say that I am ready for that final bell that announces the kids leaving is like saying that Missouri is ready for a sunny day!  (I realize that when this blog is made into a book that is required reading in all high schools across the land it will have been far too long for this reference to make sense...and they may not get the weather channel way out in the Slovenian wilderness...let me just say that right now Missouri = devastating storms.  And the Cliffs Notes version of my book just does not do justice to the nuance I put into every analogy...I'm totally kidding...you'll probably get a B)

I have so much to accomplish at the end of the year and it is very hard to stay focused when you are being challenged at every turn but my sister has asked for...no demanded...a new blog post.  I'm thinking of signing her up for the insider edition of my blog for a low low fee.  It will include being able to read what I write for free and in addition, she will be invited to Thanksgiving dinner.  (I'm pretty sure that my mom would want me to limit the number of members in that club so act fast!)  Also, if any of the parents of my current students are reading this...it is my sister's fault that the comment on your child's report card is something like, "I am pretty sure I saw your kid in my room and I am almost positive that she/he was conscious."  What the heck, I only have to deal with these parents for another 268 hours.  Not that anyone is counting.

In thinking about counting I happened to go across a bridge.  And going across a bridge got me thinking about a time that I was counting...on a bridge.  Try to stay with me as I go back to my youth.

I was born a poor bla...wait, wrong movie.  But maybe that line will lure people googling "The Jerk" (a favorite movie of my sister...this is for you sis...and you owe me a thermos!)  When we were younger we lived about an hour away from my Uncle, Aunt, her mom, and my cousins.  To get there we drove on a bridge.  This is a good thing since they lived on the other side of the San Francisco Bay and driving straight across would have been soggy.  We had several options to get there.  There are a few bridges to choose from.  We could have gone across the very romantic Golden Gate Bridge but we would have had to take a bridge to get to that bridge...and we could have even driven around on land, but that would have taken a long time and wasted a lot of gas so I don't even know why you brought it up!  Can I get back to my story now?  Thank you.  I'm sorry.  You see I am a little frazzled since there are only 16,123 minutes left in my school year.  Not that anyone is counting.

There were two bridges that we chose from the Dumbarton (yup, that's its real name) and the San Mateo (which totally ignored the city of Hayward when naming their bridge)  They were both reasonable choices, most of the time.  One problem was that the Dumbarton (snicker snicker) was a narrow drawbridge back in the day.  (Can I hear a WOOT WOOT from all the old people in the audience who actually remember getting caught at the bridge before they rebuilt it with a rise...*4*1*5* area code in Da House!!...before they split it into two area codes...I guess I need to work on my rallying cries....but I digress)  Hey!  Give me a break!  I'm a little stressed since there are only 964,950 seconds until the end of the year!  Not that anyone is counting!

I think we were actually caught as the first car once at the drawbridge.  My brother was not a bridge lover and I think that had something to do with us usually traveling the San Mateo Bridge.  It was no problem for me going across in the day time but when we came home at night I hated that bridge.  The problem was that the designers had decided to light this bridge in a way that made waterboarding seem like an afternoon at the beach.  As a passenger, who was trying to sleep, it was always a time to wake up since the lights, right at window level, would glare and flash as you drove by.  Later, when I was a young driver, it was awfully distracting to have these near-seizure-inducing flashes glaring at you from the strips of horizontal fluorescent lights just a few feet from your eyes! 

And then it happened!  Someone decided that it was time to stop the madness and install lights that made it safer and less irritating.  They took out the blinding lights and put in light poles!  I remember my brother and sister and I cheered when we saw the new lights!  It was a big deal! (In fairness, it may have only been my brother and I that actually cheered since my sister was far more mature than me.  That happens when you are so much older...not that anyone is counting)  It was a travel-the-bridge-to-relatives kind a holiday and we had gotten it into our heads to count all of the light posts as we traveled across the incline of the bridge.  We were joyfully calling out ever increasing numbers, 46, 47, 48.  Dad was driving the Oldsmobile 98 at warp speed.  69, 70. 71!  We were over the top and bouncing down toward the end of the bridge and the end of the lights...when all of a sudden my mom chimes in with 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.  Have you ever tried counting anything while someone just randomly calls out different numbers?  It ain't easy!  That's the kind of thing comedy routines are made of!  It may be possible for some people but it wasn't for us.  We all got flustered, shouted things like, "Arggg!" and "MoOoOoM!", and totally lost track of the number we were on. (To this day, I still don't know how many light poles are on that stupid bridge.)

In fairness, my mom wasn't trying to scar me for life, she was being a good sport and joining in!   She was actually trying to show that we were near the end!  Exactly ten away from the end...not that anyone was counting.