Unlike the letter that I wrote for Sam, this letter to Jacob's teachers I actually sent in to school.
If I were there with you right now, I would stride boldly across the room, and climb, one foot firmly planted on top of a desk, the other on a chair and, before the pull of gravity sends me crashing to the floor, point at my son and bellow at the top of my lungs: "Beware, for there be dragons!"
Other than amusing you by gracelessly falling to the floor, there would be no real truth to that statement.
Today was the first day of school here in Virginia Beach.
One of the teachers at Sam's high school included an assignment for parents to send them an e-mail. I'd like to present to you for your reading pleasure, my first draft:
An Open Letter to Sam's Teachers
Hello. I am Sam's father.
Let me start by saying that you are sitting there, looking at the date of this post, and saying to yourself something along the lines of " according to my calendar, May 17, 2008, is a Tuesday." At this point, you must be thinking any number of questions related to my sanity. Here I am sitting at a computer typing and demanding that you listen and hear and agree with me that today must be, absolutely must be, Thursday.
I was up late last night. I was also up early. All of that was work related.
Then there was the knock on the door. I did not hear the knock on the door. I was in bed, trying to sleep. Natalie was up. So were the boys.
The knock on the door, much to Natalie's surprise, was a Virginia Beach Police officer. It seems there was some sort of call placed and through some strange set of circumstances, the police were sent to our address.
The wisdom one finds in key fingerprints:
newsletter revenge atmosphere
drunken suspicious glitter
blockade insurgent pheasant retrieval
rematch stupendous puppy
Scotland, Medusa dropper
December reindeer yesteryear
provincial waffle sympathy
Tub jail ally till Joan them
ow near toot lop caw fool
volt core pin mad cry doll
seal Jane cube tour slew Ruth
end bait blew wane
them edgy IRA lend block stew
After the meeting that I just got out of, I found that I required a fair amount of walking around to get my head in order. An associate offered to lend an ear if I needed someone to talk to. Right now I think I just need someone to tell the following:
Prelude, and a Warning
I am writing this little note with the full knowledge that someone who may understand some of the specifics that I am basing my generalizations on will read it, understand it, and take this personally. Please do not take this personally. It's not something to be taken personally. It's just me ranting. This makes me feel better. There are no specifics, only generalities.