Governess Dan
some recent demotivators
You can’t have happy-happy all the time. I thought I would chronicle a few recent gut punches here, just for fun.
Demotivator 1: GOVERNESS DAN
Just when I’m about to get off my rump, pull the trigger and put one of my worthy schemes into execution, some kind of stink bomb demotivator appears.
“Oh, that’s definitely the devil at work,” says Pastor John. “He’ll attack your righteous works just when you’re getting things into high gear. Pay him no attention!”
But the Pastor knows that my faith is weaker than his and all kinds of little things cause me to doubt myself and make me put projects on hold. That and my natural laziness. I think he might rightly be tiring of all my dreaming without action, or what you could call my endless ‘planning phase’.
Eons ago, I thought that announcing something before getting it under way would be a good way to force you to actually do it. That might work for some but when you have a reputation as a dreamer, failing to carry out a get-rich-quick or save-the-world scheme simply elicits a yawn from friends and family; how can they be disappointed with such low expectations to begin with? And so you can carry on without much damage to your already pathetic track record of abandoned attempts at glory. Hence the announcement itself doesn’t necessarily force you into a must-do-or-else predicament.
Nevertheless, Pastor Jim keeps talking about BBR like it’s a done deal and says, “Announce it!” so I plan to do that in front of the rough and tumble Sons of Liberty group; then I’ll have to get serious or it’s tar and feathers and exile across the state line at Lolo Pass, and a long, cold hitchhike back to Seattle through dangerous territory at Kamiah and Lewiston, just like Napoleon’s Grande Armée after Moscow.
One recent demotivator occurred after substituting at the local high school about a week ago. Just before my junior-high chorus class a couple boisterous boys came bounding in. One of them, the more gregarious of the two, walked straight up to me and said hello and gave me a solid handshake. He was in a great mood. I said, “What happened to you?” as the whole left side of his face was black and blue. He tried to give me the old “you shoulda seen the other guy” story but his friend cut in and said, “He flipped over a side by side.” A side by side is an ATV more like a dune buggy as two can sit side by side rather than front and back, motorcycle style. I got the basic story out of them and it was a case of wild, Montana boys having a blast at high speed on a 4-wheeler, ignoring any safety consideration like seatbelts or slowing down before the hairpin turn where they launched off the berm Thelma and Louise style. It was a good ol’, typical, Rocky-Mountain, teen culling event.
During roll-call, I found out I already knew the nearly-culled 7th grader. While taking attendance I like to point out the nationality of kids’ last names, and take a guess at ones I’m not sure of.
-Michael Allen.
-Here.
-Michael are you English or Scot?
-I don’t know. Probly English.
-Well, you need to find out. That’ll be your homework…Logan Becker.
-Here.
-Good German name. Does your mom make nice dinner rolls, crumpets, etc.?
-Huh?
-Nothing...OK. David Lee.
-Here.
-English or Chinese?
-English! Do I look Chinese?
-I know. I’m just funnin’ ya. Bruce Lee, man! OK, Olivia Lopez.
-Here.
-Lopez. España!...Right…Jacob Morgan.
-Here.
-Fine English name, Morgan! Very aristocratic. Are you an aristocrat, Jacob?
-No. And it’s Welsh.
-OK…Emily Rizzo.
-Here. Italian.
-That is correct, Emily!
-Thanks.
-OK. Well then. Wade Sundstrom.
-Here.
-Swedish name, eh?
-I think so. I don’t know for sure.
-Well, it’s Scandinavian anyway. Probably Swedish though, as Sundstroms are known to be a little reckless on 4-wheelers.
His buddies laughed at that.
-Hey, wait a minute. I know that name. Is your mom Julie Sundstrom?
-Yep.
-And your big brother is Trevor?
-Yep.
-I know both of them. I worked with Trevor over the summer.
Trevor, Garth McBride and I form a pretty solid pond-cleaning team on our own when foreman Lars is out on another project.
Julie Sundstrom is the secretary I usually deal with at Alpha Temp Agency, the company that handles my paycheck for Perky Pelican. I had told her I was going to open a school for boys and she had shown a lot of interest. “Wade is a nice kid but he’s having an awful lot of trouble down at the middle school. I would think a school like the one you open up would be good for him.”
These kids were real likeable and we had a good time shooting the breeze in a mutual Q and A which made 2nd period whiz by. I never got to the official lesson plan for the sub, but if memory serves I was supposed to put Ratatoulli on the DVD player but the whole ‘play a movie’ copout for subs kind of nauseates me.
When school got out, I popped over to Alpha Temps to pick up a paycheck. Julie was at the desk. When she handed me my check I said, “Hey, guess who I met today?”
-My son Wade!
-Yeah, how’d you know?
-We went out together at lunch hour.
-Oh, that’s nice. So he told you he’d met me?
-Yes, he said you were really nice and the class was super fun.
Music to my ears! That, my friends, is why I go down now and then and schlep for ten bucks an hour at the local school. Now I was thinking, “Hmm, maybe Wade will indeed be my first student at The Discovery School.” He was a nice kid if a bit of a loose cannon. I think I could handle him. At the very least he’s not going to get culled in a dune-buggy accident at my school.
Early the next week came the demotivator. I was downtown again, in a pretty good mood, and I stopped into Alpha Temps. “Hey Julie. How’s it going?”
-Good, Daniel. How about you?
-Good, thanks. Hey, I just want to tell you that I’m planning on getting this school started in the new year, and Wade is still welcome to give it a try.
-Okay, Daniel. I’ll let him know the opportunity is still there. Now, how many kids are in the school now?
-Well…he’d be the first, and then the school would grow of course.
Her forced smile said, “Great, my son gets to be the guinea pig for your fly-by-night experimental school.” Then she said, “So, you’d be kind of like a governess, right?”
-Uh, well, I’d probably take off the ‘ess’ part of that, heh. But yeah, I suppose.
What a salesman I am!
“Okay,” said Julie, “so, it’s kind of like a personal tutor.”
-Yeah, like that. Like the old tutors back in the 19 century of the well-to-do families. Vanderbilts n’ stuff.
“Yes,” said Julie, “They used to call those governesses.”
Julie would probably go home and ask four-wheelin’ Wade if he was still interested leaving behind his fun, crazy friends at school and being educated by Daniel, the male governess. Splendid.
I left the office and walked back to the truck. The spring in my step was gone as I was trying to forget the name, ‘Governess Dan’.
Demotivator 2: MY BRIDGE TEACHER HAD A CRUSH ON ME UNTIL SHE FOUND OUT I HAVE THE SKILL SET OF A JR. HIGH CHEERLEADER
The beginners bridge course at the senior center is coming to a close- only two lessons left. At the last class our teacher Liz Bronfman wanted to get an idea of how many of us were going to continue. This would entail meeting weekly at the sunset café for supervised play.
Liz explained that we really needed playing time to start fully understanding the game.
-OK guys, who’s gonna continue at the Sunset? We’ll meet Thursdays at 1 and each table will have a teacher, just like here. Come on, now. You gotta get out and play if you’re gonna get those ‘bridge muscles’ strong!
Nobody raised their hand but when Liz asked each of us directly like a prosecuting attorney demanding individual verdicts, most people said they’d come. I was third to be asked, after two yesses.
-Dan, how about you?
-I’m not retired yet.
-Excuse me?
-I’m not retired yet. I still have to work and 1 pm is working hours.
-Oh.
The room was silent. Everyone knows bridge is for retired people. The rest of adult America is too busy keeping the ball rolling. There’s only one learner in this class without any gray hair, Shelly, and everyone knows she’s a full time worker. Liz just assumed I was retired like the other guys.
-OK, I didn’t know you were working. What do you do?
Here’s me sitting south, and north and east are retired engineers. Liz would be sitting in the west spot tonight and I didn’t know her former career, but I pegged her for a big city office manager or college prof, such were her impeccable communication skills. At the other table was Shelly working at the hospital; Dave, who had been a programmer and world-traveling entrepreneur; and Tom, a former surgeon. In other words, this room, minus one, was a brain trust.
-I clean ponds.
I think Liz had pegged me for one of the smart people too, and this limited information stunned her a little. A few lessons back she had told me, “You’re a quick study- I like the questions you ask!”
You can really pull the wool over people’s eyes if you can crack a joke and string a couple decent sentences together now and then. I rescued her from having to think of a response and I said, “It’s a summer job, pond maintenance and cleaning around the valley. I’m also opening a school. I’m going to be pretty busy.”
Liz paused again. “Well, it would be a shame for any of you to forget what you’ve learned. And I guarantee, your bridge knowledge is like a muscle. Use it or lose it!”
Later as we were playing some practice hands Liz turned toward me and said, “Didn’t you say you wanted to teach kids?”
-Yeah, I do. Including my own kids.
-Are you going to teach bridge at your school?
-Absolutely.
-Well, you’ll need to practice then.
-I know.
Then she put her cards down and said, “I don’t give up that easy! We’ll get an evening group together at the Sunset. Dan, can you make it after work hours?”
“Well,” I yammered, “I think I probably could.”
I honestly don’t know how I’m going to find the time to drive down to Hamilton once a week for a three-hour bridge session, once things get busy- and this on top of weekly pickup soccer, which I’m not quitting until I sprain my ankle again. But then again, I really want to learn and teach this great game to the younger crowd. And Liz is willing to coach us for free, such is her love of the game and desire to promote it.
Bridge plus apple-pie a la mode at the Sunset Café. All that’s missing is a Golden Age card.
Demotivator 3: YOU THINK YOUR TEENAGE AND OLDER SONS WANT TO HANG WITH YOU? WHAT ARE YOU, SOME KIND OF CLUELESS WEIRDO?
Let’s face it- my situation is odd. I blame it on covid. Here I am approaching a year and a half away from family in Japan. Who does this kind of thing? Nevertheless, I still hold onto the belief that somehow I can fashion a life for myself and my family in both places. And I like it here in Montana, so I stick around. A big part of what keeps me here is knowing that two of my sons intend to join me soon. But I got some bad news the other day. Well, it felt a little bad when I first heard it, but I soon felt OK about it.
Andy announced that the test and interview that he was hoping to bomb, in order to not get into the university he’d selected, actually went very well and he very much enjoyed talking with the interviewers. He actually wanted to share his experience with me, so excited he was. He said the professors on the zoom interview were really cool and that although he only did so-so on his presentation, he smoked the Q & A interview part in both Japanese and English. He said one of the English-speaking interviewers was this really cool Polish guy. The other was an American lady in her 50s, also very nice. One of the lighter, get-to-know-you questions was, “What’s your favorite song?” Andy said he answered The Piano Man by Billy Joel and they really liked that.
I wanted to say, “Come on, Andy. They’re just schmoozin’ ya! And of course they’re gonna pick the nicest teachers to do the interviews. They need students; it’s a sales pitch!” But I didn’t say any of that. If he gets in and he’s happy with it, that’s OK with me. The cool thing, according to Andy, is that the college is real flexible and a student can easily incorporate a year abroad (or more) into their academic plan. He could even come here and do a year at UM up in Missoula.
I told all this to my brother at Thanksgiving. “Yeah, Tom, I was really hoping to have Andy come over to Montana. He loves the outdoors, hiking, shooting, fishing, all that stuff. It was gonna be a lot of fun.”
Tom looked over at my nephew Ethan, a few years older than Andy, and said, “Yeah, Dan, you know. I was kind of thinking. It’s pretty cool that your sons like Montana and want to try living there but …(and here he paused for effect) dude, are you sure…are you sure they want to hang out with their dad?”
My brother knows I have a self-deprecating sense of humor, and although he pretended to try to be gentle with the question, he knew I would find it funny. I laughed pretty hard.
“I mean, in my late teens and early twenties. The last…THE LAST place I wanted to be on earth was with my daddy.”
I laughed again and said, “I don’t know, Tom, I honestly think they like hanging out with me.”
“OK.” Said Tom.
In any case it’s probably a moot point with Andy. I hope to get him out here in March, nonetheless. And there’s always Kyle, who should be here in January (and if he backs out I may just start that sad hitchhiking journey back to Seattle, then on to Japan with tail between legs- grand Montana adventure abandoned!)
Demotivator #4 THE MOST DEPRESSING BOOK EVER WRITTEN
For the longest time I’ve wanted to replace the cute little ipod shuffle that clips onto your pocket or lapel. Mine crapped out about 20 years ago. Then I used my iphone to listen to podcasts. Then that bit the dust too and I’ve had nothing for years now. So imagine my joy when I saw a whole bookshelf worth of these cool audiobooks called Playaways at the library. They come in an orange plastic case. You just pop out the little 3”X2” player with pre-installed book and use your own earbuds. The buttons are big and easy to use, even if I don’t have my glasses on.
I checked out two titles. After I came home and fiddled a bit and figured out how it worked, excitedly, I found Lukas and said, “Hey Luke, check this thing out. It’s really cool!”
-What is it?
-It’s called a Playaway. You don’t need to download anything or connect to your computer or anything like that. It’s a book ready to listen to and you just pop your ear buds in and away you go!
Lukas held the thing in his hand for a second, and turned toward me and gave me a look that said, “Nice retro tech, old man.” Then he said, “Nice retro tech, old man.”
I was pretty excited to use the Playaway for the first time on a hike up Kootenay creek. I knew I had to take a hike that day because the forecast was for a 58F high. I’m pretty sure we won’t get another temp reading that high until spring. It was a weekday but there were a few other hikers who had the same idea.
They say soft drinks have to be carbonated otherwise you’ll go into sugar-bomb shock; there’s actually too much sugar for your system to process. If not for all the beauty surrounding me and the smell of the high Rocky-Mountain air, the ugliness in this book might have put me into shock, or at least a deep depression, for the book I had chosen was The Jungle, by Upton Sinclair. You may have had to read it in high school. It’s a book about a Lithuanian immigrant family that lives and works at the stockyards of Chicago, at the turn of the 20 century. I listened to nine chapters of misery, struggle, and cruelty and a few days later, taking a long walk along the Bitterroot, another six chapters of starvation, despair and tragedy. That book could be a living description of hell and it’s most useful attribute might be this: If you ever need a cure for feeling sorry for yourself, just read The Jungle!
End of book review
Demotivator #5: MERRY CHRISTMAS, NOW STAY AWAY!
My wife told me to stay away during the holidays. I kid you not.
Okay, that is true but I should add some context. I called Yuka and asked her which would be best for a winter trip, December/January or March. She said I needed to be scarce at year’s end and January because Roy has ensconced himself in my den and is busy getting ready for university exams. She knows March is better because I won’t get much time with him before the exams and if I did try to get time with him I’d distract him from his studies. In March I’ll be able to go to Andy and Roy’s graduation, and see their school for the first time without the mask mandates. What percent of students will be masked at graduation? Packed into the gym for the ceremony in late winter, I’m guessing most of them, but at least it will be good to see my boys without their masks. Darnit I never got to see Roy play badminton at Jonan High School. I drove him to a couple tournaments, and he did quite well, but spectators were never allowed during the plandemic.
Oh well, all’s well that ends well. March is pretty nice in Japan. Ocean temps are bearable again and there might be some good surf. With luck I’ll be able to see some cherry blossoms. And blessed pond season will begin when I return to Montana!
Here are some shots from the day of the hike:
Next: motivator or demotivator? (Rocky Mountain blue sky and contrail or soon to be Rocky Mountain haze and chemtrail?)
