Teaching We Suck

I’ve been back in school. Well, not really. More like dropping in on courses, but I have to fill the void of all day meetings. I’m taking a logic course. I know what you’re thinking – why? Because I can learn. I want to learn. New things. Different things. That and it was free.

I never was very strong in math. Although, I thought, it’s one class. I can take my time. I can go over the material. I should be able to get this.

I spent two days on a problem set. I didn’t solve one.

The good news is, I’m no different than any other American. I don’t get math either. That should be all you need for a citizenship. Oh, and shooting shit. If you suck at math and can shoot shit, it’s good enough to be one of us.

How the hell am I suppose to solve this? They’re not numbers. They’re not even letters.

I wanted to get this. I tried. I neglected my wife and kids so I could solve logic problems. I went at this with the intensity of, well, a really intense person. I was determined that if I just tried hard enough I would get it.

I should have probably stuck with being unemployed. I seem to be really good at that.

Nothing has changed since I graduated over fiftee.. I mean five years ago. We just throw shit at people and expect them to figure it out. I see it in this class. I see it with my son. I’d help him with his math problems, but I’m busy trying to figure out how to prove p. He thinks division is hard. Wait until they throw letters into the mix.

Then, when you can’t figure it out, you think it’s you. Maybe it’s not you. Maybe it’s them.

Maybe we suck at teaching. I mean, you think all those Chinese kids are just better with numbers? Well, they may be, but I’m guessing there’s a more common denominator. Like, not just throwing a bunch of shit at you and saying, “Now solve this.” Ah, could you, like, maybe show me how to do one first? Then maybe I can have a model to learn from when I try it on my own. I know it sounds crazy, having a grasp of the whole thought process first.

Just because you “get” the content doesn’t mean a majority, hell, even a plurality of the other students will. Teaching is a skill. And it’s apparent that we still suck at it. Yet, we’ll keep on pushing more of the same. You know, because if you do more of something that isn’t working, it eventually works. I solved that in my logic class.

In the meantime, one more kid will think they’re bad at math, throw up their hands and go to work in Human Resources. Where they will send me job rejection emails.

Ranty Time

HIRE ME! I can sell a book.

Ok, it’s ranty time. The biggest complaint I get about my last book is that it’s just a compilation of tweets. This makes me question Darwinism.

Look, I understand that not everyone is going to like it. That’s fine. But when the summary says it’s a compilation of tweets, and you were upset it wasn’t who done it pick-a-path, clearly some of you weren’t hugged enough as a child.

The whole idea of the book was to see if I could sell a book. I mean, literally, just a single book. I know this may come to a surprise to some, but you just don’t write a book and magically it sells like Harry Potter. The hardest part isn’t writing a book, it’s marketing it. That was the whole point of As Pantless as I Want to Be.

I wasn’t going to spend all my time, not looking for a job, pinning my hopes on selling millions of copies, and getting my own theme park and statue. Instead, I took all the silly twitter shenanigans, packaged it into a book and marketed it as such. If I could get that to sell I would not only test the market, it would also serve as marketing for the next book. You starting to see how this all works?

I did sell a couple of copies. At one point, I topped 822 in Kindle sales, or something like that. That’s not too bad for a first book with no publisher behind it. Now I can work on a completely original book, which I’m doing now. I’m working on Can I Have Snack?,  a day-in-the-life of an unemployed stay-at-home dad. Better known as me.

So if you were all upset that the first book didn’t have enough original content, just unsqueeze. It’s coming. Right after I figure out how to get the straws into these juice pouches. Clearly, the makers of Capri Sun hate parents.

Target Throwdown

I always knew that one day I would lose my shit at a Target. I just always thought it would be in the parking lot, running down clueless pedestrians.

The family and I are walking through the produce aisles, because, you know, we’re all about proper nutrition, when a man starts walking towards me

“Excuse me, Sir. Can I talk to you…”

I throw both my hands up and say, “Don’t bother me and my family while we’re trying to shop.”

I’ve been approached outside stores, in parking lots, at the mall and at the house. Usually I just say, “No thank you,” and walk away. But this was the first time I’ve been approached inside a store. While I’m busy shopping. It really annoyed me, and he didn’t like my response.

“Damn man, I was just trying to talk to you.”

I walked right by him and keep on walking. He follows, keeping a distance, but keeps bothering me. I quickly realized that he wasn’t going to leave me alone. That’s when I stopped, turned around, and completely lost my shit.

“I’m in the middle of the store shopping. I don’t want you bothering me or my family.”

In Texas that alone is legal grounds to open fire.

“I said excuse me.”

“I don’t care if you’re holding a giant check from Publisher’s Clearing House. I’m not talking to a complete stranger next to the frozen peas.”

Everyone knows you talk to complete strangers in automotive, next to the all-season radials.

There was a bunch of other words exchange, but I don’t even remember half of what was said. I’m pretty sure it just degenerated into grunts at some point.

He’s still walking towards me. My wife and kids have ducked off in another aisle to get away from this guy, and I realize we’re boxed in. So I’ve drawn a mental line in my head. If he passes that linoleum square I’m going to make him eat that cucumber, and not with his mouth.

I point at him and yell, “Walk away. Just walk away.”

The boy is loving every minute of this. He’s all giddy, jumping up and down like this is a playground fight.

“Mommy, Daddy is going to kick that man’s ass.”

I’m still yelling at him and wondering, why isn’t that employee saying something? She’s just standing there, stocking the frozen entrees. Am I in some sort of sociological experiment? Is Chris Hanson about to come out, ”Have a seat. I would like to talk to you. Have a seat. Let’a talk. Have some lemonade.”

I’m in the middle of a store, yelling at a stranger to walk away, and everyone is acting like nothing is happening.

“Walk away! Walk away!”

He finally turns around and walks away. Now my testosterone is raging and I’m worried that this guy is now lurking in the parking lot. I just want to get the car packed and get out of there when a 12-year-old girl approaches me. Boy, did she pick the wrong day to sell cookies.