Ah, school time. The first quarter is almost over, and my three oldest children are in the throes of learning. At times (many) they may argue that the only kind of “throes” they get from school are those involving death, but they are throes nonetheless.
We are fortunate to live in one of the best-rated school systems in our state, which means a couple of things: pretty good education, better-than-your-average-bear athletics, and “they didn’t even buy me dinner first” property taxes. The amazing thing about the taxes to fund the schools is what you get in return. State-of-the-art buildings and equipment, newer generation computers, excellent teachers, and an apparent dearth of basic supplies.
Yes, a complete lack of anything and everything that isn’t a textbook, chair, desk, or building. I’m sure it’s this way in other school districts, but it’s completely astounding how much isn’t provided. School supplies for my three skulls of mush totalled close to $200. And that didn’t include the additional school fees for…uh…whatever it is the fees are used for. There’s another $100. And the mandatory field trip in the second week for daughter #2, which was another $30.
Then of course is the constant begathon. The year-round tin-cup-carrying, cardboard sign on the freeway, clean your window with a dirty rag, knife-fight you for squatting rights, incessant pandering for everything one might think of. You’re wondering why I hadn’t written this post back at the beginning of September? Well, sloth for one, but also I’ve just grown to accept this nonsense until the two most recent attempts to put a hand in my back pocket with the intent of doing more than cop a feel.
Daughter #2 is in band, and there has been a request that each parent send in a bag of individually wrapped candy to be passed out as rewards or something. Sure it’s only a $3 bag of candy, but it’s also the principal of the thing. I played in orchestra when I was a young skull of mush, even to the level of spending a couple years in the city junior philharmonic. We were good. And you know what we got? Yelled at for tapping time with our feet. Candy was for wussies. Candy was for Hallochristmagiving.*
The second item was when daughter #1 asked me to sign the permission slip for participation in “art club”. “Sounds good,” says I, followed by “But what’s this mysteriously folded-over front sheet stapled on here that you seem to want to avoid having me see?” Ah yes, that would be the page with the hand reaching again for my wallet. Sucker! I don’t carry cash (much) and you don’t take a debit card. So no, you can’t have the $20 pay-to-play fee and the additional $20 for “supplies”!
Apparently last year, the money from the dozen or so participants (around $240 I suppose) was enough to buy the necessary materials to create a five-foot papier-mache letter “O”. Call me an ogre, but I’m thinking my $20 could be put to better use. “Transformers” came out today on DVD for instance. That movie was cool, even if it was made by Michael Bay. Way better than a papier-mache block “O”.
I’ll give the school here credit for the education though. It’s 10:50pm right now, and daughter #2 is still working on her homework. Yay school!
*Happy 16th day of Hallochristmagiving by the way. I believe the song is up to “16 loaves of white bread to start drying out for making stuffing”. I’m still trying to get the rhythm to flow with “Golddigger” but it’s tough. Bustin’ a rhyme with an ill flow like that ain’t nothin’ for a playa, but it’s a biznatch for a Wonderbread, yo.
