Unpacking

So I’ve unpacked most of my stuff, settling into my parents’ house. I’ve also had a lot of mental unpacking going on, what with the reverse culture shock of moving back to the house on the gravel road where I grew up. Only this time, I am the substitute teacher and not the high school student. It’s a strange time.

There’s way too much insight, irony, and self-revelation to sufficiently analyze here, so I’ll skip it all and make just a few salient points from my musings…


A kid in the sixth-grade Reading class asked me what “foreshadowing” means. I explained it to the class with an example from pop culture. I asked them to name movies that they like. One kid said The Dark Knight, which all the other kids had also seen, so I used that. Harvey Dent said, “You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” Harvey Dent later becomes the villain. That is foreshadowing, so I told them.

That’s right, I used a Batman reference to explain a literary device to kids. It was glorious.

Unfortunately, I won’t get paid until the end of March (WTF?!), so I still can’t make so much as a day trip to Kansas City until April (if I’m lucky). The Fates continue to cock-block me.

I have been gathering “advice” from people on the possibility of teaching general music as opposed to directing band (which I can never and will never do). So far, I’m just as discouraged and terrified of the future as ever. I talked to the band director out here, and she wasn’t terribly encouraging, though she did pose the potential idea for commissioning me to write band pieces.

Speaking of composing, I moved my keyboard/studio into my parents’ basement, along with a workout space. Time to reclaim the “balanced routine” I touched only briefly, at some fleeting point of equilibrium, when I lived on my own in Stonewood Apartments (that dreadful place). I’m going to start a choral cycle soon, but I’m also tempted to dig up that old tuba concerto. Basically, I’m leaning towards any chamber piece that can/will guarantee a recording. Now that I don’t have a certain someone breathing down my neck 24-7 about how I’m apparently not looking hard enough for medical billing jobs that require three years’ progressive experience anyway, it’s time to actually get some stuff done on top of the endless soul/job-searching.

It is refreshing to be back in the country, though. It’s good to be able to take long walks, long indeed, to each of the distant four corners of the property. It rained a lot earlier this week, so the creek was really high, and on the coldest afternoon of the week I didn’t come back to the house until I was caked up to my knees in mud and couldn’t feel my face anymore. There’s nothing like a hot shower, a fresh pot of coffee, a soft chair, and a good book after punishing oneself by exposure to the elements on a long hike through rough terrain.

“Sometimes braving the elements is a good thing, however miserable, because physical hardship and deprivation are good for the soul… but that is also another post entirely.”
--Bard Vision, posted October 15.

Because it’s there (and because I have nowhere else to go).


What a bittersweet week. I feel like I’ve been on a long car ride with my 17-year old self, fidgeting in the awkward silence between the two of us. Ten years later, and here I am.