Trout Fishing in America performing live at the Waco Art Fest?!  I
missed them at Austin City Limits, but I could never pass up the
opportunity to see them in my own backyard.  In fact, we made a
weekend out of it:

If you are curious, TFIA is
made up of a seven foot tall man with a guitar, and a five foot tall
man with an upright bass.  I consider them a mix between Raffi
and Peter, Paul, and Mary.  Basically, the music your dad might
enjoy, and the  music you listened to when you were a child. 
I was knew of one song, which to me was reason enough to go.  It
would atleast be good for a laugh and another random waco experience, I
believed.  Watching the fifty to sixty year olds crowd the stage
for better seating and then sing along to most songs, combined with the
consumption of spicy indian food was a completely new experience.

Random photographs remind me of summer.  I miss those days.

Off to a golf lesson.  Yeah, you heard right. 

I almost always tie my tie correctly on first attempt, sometimes
second.  I make a pot of coffee in the morning, and I bring my
thermos to work.  I occasionaly make a second pot when I get
home.  I drive slow to and from work to allow more time to observe
clouds and listen to talk radio.  News Radio 820 in the
morning.  NPR in the afternoons.  I enjoy a heavily starched
shirt and a pair of pressed pants.  Yesterday, I shined my black
dress shoes.  Classical music and movie soundtracks have found
their way onto my iTunes playlist.  Legends of the Fall is my
favorite.  I try to find my way to bed around 10:30 p.m. 
11:00 p.m. seems late to me.  Midnight on a school night is
unthinkable.   I can no longer translate instant message
abbreviations that kids are using.  And I refuse to use
them.  I long to have my beard back.  I have shared a bottle
of wine with my father.

I am no longer a child.

I recently purchased an animated film. 
I loved it.  Last week, a principal held a trash can in front of
my face and told me to spit out my gum.  I called my mother early
this morning to ask if lenin pants are acceptable when worn with a
shirt and tie.  (I pulled it off.)  I do not make my
bed.  I make students angry when I cut in front of them in the
cafeteria line.  They give me questionable looks when I tell them
that I am a teacher.  I still love the rock and the
roll.   I talk slang.  I post on  xanga.  I
rarely share a "normal" smile in any photograph.  Ask Lucas. 
The first section I read in any newspaper is the comics.  Fox
Trot, Zits, Garfield, Peanuts.  Those are my favorites.  In
that order.

Apparently, I am not quite an adult.

Do you, my peers, find yourselves in similar circumstances?  I no
longer feel like a child.  I do not even feel like a college
student.  So that makes me an adult?  I have no paying job,
and I am still dependent on my parents.  I walk around high school
not knowing exactly where I belong.  Do I hang around and laugh
with students.  Do I sip coffee and gossip about administration
and problem children in the teachers lounge?  All in all, I find
myself in an awkward situation.  Fortunately I thrive on awkward situations.

More details and stories regarding the teacher's life that I am now slipping into are sure to come.  Maybe.

And if this post happens to have a Britney Spears "Not a Girl, Not Yet
a Woman" theme to it, then I swear it is by coincidence and not because
I am listening to her cd right now.