Odd smell 10/18/2009
 When I think of Spanish rice, I begin to smell strange odors. It’s mainly a mental thing but the smells are definitely there and they cling onto my nostrils like the balloon boy holds onto his cardboard box. Memories seep out from my grey matter and magically unlock an evening not long ago when I tried (keyword) to make a sumptuous meal for my wife. Spanish rice was included on the menu and paired with a few items that would no doubt impress her. My skills in the culinary arts would define me, at least for the evening. I had gathered all of the necessary ingredients and had wholeheartedly begun to cook. After some time, the rice was beginning to soak up the surrounding water and it became infused with all of the tasty spices that I had assembled. Every now and again, I stirred the concoction while tending to the rest of the meal marveling at the colorful dish coming together before my eyes. I used the rubber spatula again and again that night in the simmering hot pan. After a typical length of time for cooking rice had passed, I started to sample the ruby tinted wonder. It tasted a little off so I decided that maybe a pinch of salt would do the trick. O.K., it was two pinches of salt then. A few more stirs and another small bite. I felt a peculiar texture on my tongue then I noticed the odor of a chemical but couldn’t exactly place where I’d smelled it before. It was approximately five seconds after I took that bite when I realized what I had done. The distinct flavor was melted into my taste buds. My skills in the kitchen weren’t so hot, but my spatula was. As I had cooked the rice, I didn’t even notice that I had rested that utensil in the pan the whole time and was casually adding melted plastic pieces to the recipe. My attempt at Spanish rice had become Spatula rice. Yum. 4 Comments Who do you remember? 10/15/2009
 There are a few solid reasons behind my decision to teach. The first would be my very good memories of few fantastic teachers that had an influence on me. Looking back, I am truly grateful to have had such good fortune. Their guidance and mentorship contributed to my sense of being socially aware and giving back to the community. Some names that have drifted in and out of my mind over the past few decades include Mr. Campbell, who read the “Soup” series to us with just as much enthusiasm in his voice in June as he had in September. I remember him as a fair man who wore a sport coat and tie every day. He brought his lunch in a brown paper bag and would nibble a bit here and there. He consistently offered a ready smile when we had questions or comments about our assignments. Mr. Barra was the middle school principal who made me feel important with his handshake and even called me into his office one winter morning after I had a fight with my brother at home before school. My homeroom teacher had noticed that I wasn’t myself and was still agitated and saddened, so she sent me downstairs. I wasn’t in trouble but she thought I could use a minute with the big man who wore a suit to work. He took the time to share a story or two about his brothers and how fist fight or not, they still loved each other. “Fighting among brothers isn’t anything new” he told me. He told me that “everything will work out” and it did. Another figure of strength for me was Ms. Mussard, my English teacher at Willis Middle School. She came prepared to share everyday even while losing her battle to cerebral palsy. The disease had made her speech very difficult to understand but she didn’t care, not in the least. The prevailing thought among students was if it doesn’t bother her, why should it bother us? It was a strong life message about persistence and courage. She walked and spoke with great effort around the classroom as she distributed work and engaged us in conversation. She would often stop her sentence short, repeating words that she couldn’t get out the first time. There was a life size cardboard cut out of Tom Selleck from Magnum P.I. fame front and center in her class. She would joke with us that he was her husband as she carefully placed a shaking arm around the prop. “He just doesn’t know it yet”, she told us. She was great. They were great. | Archives |
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