Raj from Golden Fax

While I was in college, I was lucky enough to spend a semester abroad. I studied at Oxford, and I worked for a small financial firm in London. I worked as a secretary for an irate Scotsman named Stewart. In part because Stewart was a very cranky man who made matters worse by keeping a bottle of whiskey in his office drawer, I was an awful secretary.

I've been reminded in recent days of my most humiliating moment as Stewart's awful secretary. The phone rang one morning, and...

Me: "Good morning. Stewart Murray's office."
Caller: "Yes, this is Raj from Golden Fax."

Honest. I swear that's what he said.

Me: "I'm sorry. Could you repeat that?"
Annoyed caller: "This is Raj. From Golden Fax."

Me, in a desperate whisper: "Stewart, there's someone named Raj on the phone. He says he's from Golden Fax."
Annoyed Stewart: "Who?"
Annoyed me: "Raj. From Golden Fax."

Really Annoyed Stewart: "Do you mean Roger? Rodge? He's calling from Goldman Sachs."
Me: "Yeah, that sounds better. It's Rodge. From Goldman Sachs."

While Stewart and Rodge chatted, I hit Google hard and gave myself a serious lesson on investment banking.

Pearls of Teenage Wisdom

When I grade vocabulary quizzes, I take points off for grammar errors, too. I was handing back quizzes earlier this week, and one young man noticed that his near-perfect score was marred by a misuse of "your," one of my biggest grammar pet peeves.

In his disgust, he searched desperately for the appropriate expletive to hurl my way:

"You're such a...you're such a...you're such an English teacher!"

Vile words, indeed.

Dogsitting Children

I have to preface this by saying that I love children. Honest, I do. I adore my students, and I'm very fond of small children--in equally small doses.

On Friday night, I helped with a youth fundraiser at church: "Parents' Night Out." In other words, we babysat. I was in charge of the room that entertained 27 children between the ages of four and six for over three hours. Now, even with a hangover, I can handle 27 15-year-olds (let's not talk about how I know that), but 27 little ones? Not so much.

My coping mechanism was to treat the children like I treat Barley. When one of them tried to run out the door, I yelled, "Stay!" When they wouldn't sit down to put their shoes on, I yelled, "Sit!" When one particularly precocious child lay down on another child's toy, I even said, "Roll over!"

I don't think I went so far as to whistle at a child, but I did fantasize about getting a few of those kid leashes.

Nuggets of Matt Brilliance

This is an old one, but I was reminded of it again this morning.

On Easter Sunday, Matt and I were unable to find a parking space when we arrived at church. "All these darned fair-weather fans," Matt grumbled. "They took all our parking spaces."

It reminded me of what my dad used to say every Sunday when he picked up his bulletin: "Get your program. You can't know the players without a program."

Happy Saturday

It looks like it's going to be another beautiful spring day. I, unfortunately, will be spending my Saturday at the table:

This is a relatively light load. And it's just the grading--not the planning for next week. This is also why summer vacation is a necessity, not a perk.

Spring (Training) Fever

Matt and I spent the last week in Florida with his grandparents. The time with family was definitely the highlight, but a close second was our time at two Minnesota Twins spring training games.

My dad took me to tons of Twins games when I was growing up. At every one of those games, he told me how much better the game would be if it were being played outside, "where baseball belongs." The result is my crazy love of baseball, and a genetic insistence that America's pastime be played outside.

Spring training is, of course, outdoor baseball, but it's so much more than that. It's an experience of submersion in baseball culture. While we were having a picnic lunch by a training field, for example, Tony Olivia and one of the coaches strolled by. Kids and parents were playing catch, right next to scouts with clipboards taking notes on potential new talent. These pictures capture just a bit of that experience.

Hammond Stadium from a distance:
Hammond Stadium a little closer:
...and closer still:
Our picnic by one of the many training fields:
One of the four main practice fields:
...and the tower from which the scouts watch all the prospects:
Oh, and there was a little baseball going on, too:
Finally, just for Rebecca, the obligatory "my feet are on vacation, too" shot:

I can't think of a better way to spend a sunny afternoon than sitting outside at the ballpark. We went to two games on this vacation, but I could've gone to 20.