plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose*

At least, in my opinion, it is in this instance.

My mother in Florida sent me and Alexander a package which we received yesterday. In it, a sailing ship model of the Victory for A, a Cohiba cigar from Cuba for me.

Today A will be rowing on the Hudson (but close to the pier) to help set up traps for the Project. A relayed to me that the staff/faculty meal on Saturday begins at 10:45.


I beg your pardon? That is a little late. Even by Basque standards.

Afterwards today, is Hebrew school. Last week, the rabbi who normally teaches Hebrew school was at a yoga retreat in India. I am hoping that unlike last week, I will not have to teach/lead the group of kids alone. My job last week was to teach the kids the song "Anatevka" for the summer play. One child (child "O") insisted that she not accept my direction, and the parent of another child was in the room yelling at O for apparently no reason. At least, not one that I could figure out. That parent was all red-faced and guttural threats for a good half-hour.

Erm, excuse me? I am teaching here now. Thank you. Any child has an issue with another child, talk to me, K?

I otherwise brought in a menu from Katz's delicatessen in an attempt to generate interest and focus (we are "going to Katz's" in our play).

"What the **** is this?" one child asked.
"It's a menu, from Katz's," I answered.
"But, what do we need this for?" same child asked.
"Just look at it, kay? It will give you an idea of what we can eat there," I answered.
"Oooooh! So, when can all go on a field trip to eat there?" the child asked.

I should have known better.

A room full of kids, all different ages, half of them interested in participating, half could give a toss. I could never imagine so much chaos could be wrought on a Broadway (?) song.

*Maitresse's translation: The more you change it, the more it is the same.

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