School Daze EpicReality Show , Not Necessarily TV

The speaker welcomes listeners to his blog and podcast, where he takes a humorous look at life. He talks about his daughter graduating from high school and how he no longer has to do science projects for her. He reflects on the journey of parenting, starting from preschool where separation anxiety and pants-wetting were common. He jokes about the eccentricities of preschool teachers and the lack of educational value in preschool. He then discusses the heroic phase of elementary school and the challenges of being a parent at school events. He talks about the shift in mindset during middle school, where popularity becomes important and kids try to fit in by copying celebrities. He emphasizes that the middle school popularity contest can never be won. He briefly mentions the drama of high school and how it is different from the entertaining drama on TV. He hopes that amidst all the reality TV-like experiences in education, there is still some learning happening. He ends by inviting listen Hi, and welcome to Mr. O's Sideways View, a blog and podcast dedicated to all those folks who aren't me. And I've noticed a surprisingly large number of people who aren't. Hmm. Anyway, I'm Mr. O, and it's time to take another sideways view at our crazy world. My daughter just graduated from high school. This is wonderful! I have finally done my last science project, and no longer have to get up an hour early to get her to school! All the responsibilities which used to be mine now fall on her! Yay! Oh, yeah, and there's that whole blah blah blah about what she accomplished. Okay, congrats, you did it, but who cares? My life is better! The thing is, she's my last one. It makes one contemplate the journey we went through. It's like a jungle trek across miles of dense rainforest, except harder! It's a survival test no seasoned marine would even attempt, and that's just how it was for a parent. Imagine how it was for her! Think about it. Kids are young when they start school. My kids started preschool at three. There was separation anxiety and lots of crying, and that was just my wife. My kids had all that and added wetting their pants. Of course, the whole pants-wetting thing never bothers a three-year-old. That's just another hurdle for Mom. Preschool is also where you meet some of the weirdest people on Earth. There should be a law against letting folks teach preschool for more than five years. It destroys their brain faster than addictive drugs. I remember when I met my kids' preschool teacher, Bambi Watson. Then again, with a name like Bambi, the girl probably only had two career choices. Hey, teaching preschool is probably better than porn, but I digress. Bambi was perky and liked to skip through the day. She talked in a voice so high I had to bring Wonder Dog to the meetings to translate for me. For her, everything was luscious. She showed art projects, saying, the colors are so luscious. The way my kid talked was luscious. How they asked to go to the bathroom was luscious. In fact, I remember her telling me that my child was just the most luscious thing. I do admit, no children ever mysteriously disappeared from her classroom, but that didn't stop me from checking for bite marks every so often. Luscious! Sheesh! Of course, preschool really isn't for education. It's there to teach social skills, kind of like a cocktail party, without awkward conversations and alcoholic drinks. Then again, the participants actually have fun. That settles it. For my next get-together, I'm serving milk and peanut butter. I'm saving the Oreos for myself. To heck with those moochers. But I'm straying from the point. After the party that is preschool, the kids enter the action movie phase of their education. Hey, they wear Spider-Man underwear for a reason. Elementary education is all about heroics. Naturally, there are villains. Have you ever sat through a third-grade recorder concert? It should be outlawed, along with waterboarding. The trouble with this is, along with the first-grade art show, you're supposed to be proud of their accomplishments. I'm sorry, I can't look at a blob of red paint and see a house full of unicorns. I especially can't tell my kid his recorder has the supple dulcet tones while my ears are bleeding. I guess that's what mothers are for. Now, I mentioned heroics, and I meant it. The children run around, and they learn those ABCs. To heck with ignorance. I know A is for apple, and I can count to five. The reason I know this, like Captain America throwing his mighty shield, is my children would run up to me, strike a heroic pose, and proclaim, Father, the world is now safe, because I know without a doubt one plus one is two. Then you have to say silly stuff like, you're so smart, and doing so great. What you don't say is they won't need to know this crap when they grow up to be an auto mechanic. Then again, if the elementary grades are akin to an action movie with stark heroic deeds, then contrary-wise, middle school becomes an unwinnable popularity contest. I don't know who flips the channel on children when they hit the fourth grade, but there is a total mindset change. It's truly like someone has a remote control for them. One day you're watching Game of Heroes, and the next it's The Congeniality Show. Here's what I don't understand. To be popular, you must stand out being an individual. To be an individual, you must dress and act like everyone else. In the blink of an eye, my progeny went from being pioneers, ready to tame the universe, to being carbon copies of folks on the Disney Channel. The object was to find a character and mimic them perfectly. Naturally, all of them have to be almost real. Superpowers are out, and being honest with the world is in. What the hell does that mean? They don't know either. This is why they have to copy a celebrity to do it. So, to be natural and honest individuals, you have to copy somebody else. I don't understand it either. Anyway, they need the right backpack, sweater, and attitude. Attitude is everything. With attitude, they can strut the stage of life and be the most popular one ever. Well, at least they could try. The thing is, no matter what friends they had, they weren't the right friends. So, the middle school popularity contest can never be won. At least not before they age out and go to high school, where that ominous being changes the channel again. No one has to tell you the kind of TV program high school is. However, I'm going to, so dare! Obviously, high school is a drama. Lots and lots of drama. More drama than all of Shakespeare, Chekhov, Tolstoy, Wolf, all the Brontes, and Frank Creston put together. Frank was a guy who used to work for me, and boy, could that guy muster up some drama. I'm sick. I have to go home. I'm late because... Frankly, I bet Frank could put out more drama than the rest combined. But that's beside the point. What is the point is where he learned it. High school! See, I'm back on track. Now, I know folks like to watch drama on TV, and that's the funny thing. TV drama is entertaining and discussed among friends. High school drama nobody likes and is only talked about with therapists. The thing is, writers are trying to capture it for books, plays, and movies. I don't see the point. If Bobby doesn't like you because you have a zit on the back of your neck, well, that's his problem. Also, don't even get me started about how Tina wants Jim as a friend, but doesn't like him that way because he's getting a math award, and cheerleaders can never be seen in public with a nerd. Besides, he's really in love with Morgan's iguana, but he hates Morgan. Now Tina thinks Morgan is cute and all, but Jim has to grow up and deal with what? I have no idea. Oh yes, in all this reality TV our educational system has become, one still hopes there's at least a little learning going on. Thanks for listening, and I hope you laughed a lot. Stop by anytime. Open 24-7 for your smiling convenience. If you liked it, push like, or share it with a friend. If you missed an episode, you can hear Mr. O on Apple Podcasts, Google Play Music, and Spotify. Remember to subscribe so you won't miss it again. If you'd like, you can send me an email at ossidewaysview at gmail dot com. That's O-H-H-S-O-S-T-W-I-E-V-E. sidewaysview at gmail dot com. And remember what I always say, laugh now. You can be crabby anytime.