Where Were You In Your 60's?

Greetings All:

You would think that this man has reached a significant milestone, some kind of stone any way. He looks hale and healthy. This was from visits, salutations and exhortations of many friends and relatives during August and September. The Baron and the Baroness both turned 60 while celebrating 37th wedding anniversary. Feasting was the daily fare.



Nostalgic music inspired Sex Pistols air guitar and body surfing at the dining table:



Well then let us settle in and recount the early days of the current experience of the 60’s.

Atrial fibrillation, staggering back/hip pain, substitute teaching 7 year olds and submission to pyramid kharma schemes on the internet. Is there no end to the refulgence of the Golden Years?

Well, let me set up my newest piece of writing as a segue.

Chip gave us a call and said that we had to see Spike Lee’s “Passing Strange”. Described by the Internet Movie Data Base (IMDB) as: “A young black artist leaves his Los Angeles digs and travels to Europe to find himself. A theatrical stage production of the original Broadway musical.”

There is a strand that ties the protagonist to his relationship with his mother. Art rapidly emerges as one of the primary themes of the musical. Chip said he cried for twenty minutes after seeing the movie the first time.

He then proceeded to call us for the next two days asking us if we had seen the movie. Meanwhile he had seen it five times. With this kind of pressure we had to watch it. We loved it and I felt particularly inspired to write about my own perception of art in my life.

Chip said he really liked my response and I was pleased that our artist son found pleasure in it.

Scene: Bridgewater Hebron Village School, Fall 2010


Context: Written response to Chip

Greetings:

“…You know it’s really weird when you wake up that morning and realize that your entire adult life has been based on a decision made by a teenager!...” (quote from “Passing Strtange”)

Let me pass this ‘strange’ anecdote by you.

“Greetings Mr. Duggan, I was wondering if your name had been placed back on the sub list.”.

This was the opening line of a phone call I received on Monday. Somehow she convinced me that I would appear the next day to look after ten second graders. This despite my decision to not volunteer for subbing because of the stress associated with teaching and going back to work and having to earn money and recently having atrial fibriulation and..and… there I was on Tuesday morning at 7:45. What am I…stupid?

I knew the teacher and she was there to greet me.

“You know I don’t think you are going to like this but thank you for doing this.” She then proceeded to point to piles of paper, indicate lesson plans, gesture towards various texts, explain the nuances of the options I could exercise with each one. The spinning of my head was quite quiet. There was barely a breeze. I am sure she felt that she had explained all the necessary instructions and that ‘Mr. Duggan’ had absorbed it all. Yikes! I felt like Arlo Guthrie going through his draft physical from Alice’s Restaurant.

The official starting pistol was the Pledge of Allegiance. I silently but respectfully weathered it. And then began the process of surrendering a pedestrian view of the day and becoming immersed in Gwen, Alaric, Corie, Christian, Skyler, Jack, Levi, Hunter, Adele and . Collin was absent.

Levi, self-appointed, came over and shook my hand and welcomed me to the class. He was careless of whether he had an audience. He thought this was the right thing to do.

As the day unfolded I realized I could write ‘Q.E.D.’ on the day like it was a math proof: ‘Quod Erat Demonstratum’ – ‘What was meant to be shown was shown’. And that was subbing at the elementary level took too much energy.

My immersion was complete, however. I, too, became careless of an audience. I referenced my craft to accomplish the assigned material. But my immersion was complete. Craft led to the release of my soul. No matter how close chaos crept no matter how dynamic the traffic became, my soul led the way.

They sat, listened and questioned as they were benedicted with Roman numbers, the Greek alphabet and the mobius strip crescendo. Lessons were accomplished; learning was celebrated and demonstrated.

This is my art.

And it was about to become too real.

“Mr. Duggan…He’s awesome!”