Life’s Outtakes
(Daris Howard, award-winning, syndicated columnist, playwright, and author, can be contacted at daris@darishoward.com; or visit his website at http://www.darishoward.com)
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Word Count 691
Student Communications (#3)
By
Daris Howard
Most of my college students are bright, fun to teach, and work hard. But each semester I get interesting letters, emails, and phone calls from a few students. I save these, and occasionally I compile them into a column. The last couple of years I have shared some of these, and, with school just starting, I thought I’d share a few more. I don’t think any of these comments need any explanation, other than to say that I changed or removed any names for anonymity. Also, I pared down a few of them a bit.
Dear Professor Howard, This is Aaron from your 10:15 class. I guess you know from my grade that I have done worse and worse on each test until I am now failing your class. It just seems that the farther along we go, the more boring your class is, and the harder it is to concentrate. So, I was wondering what time you teach next semester so I can sign up for your class again.
Hello Professor Howard, I was just checking my grade online and it says I have an F. I’m not quite sure why that is. Could it be because I haven’t turned in any of my projects and I bombed the test? Just checking.
Professor Howard, I’m sure you want to know why I am so far behind on my work in your class, so I thought I should tell you. I have been sick, and I can’t do homework because reading your math stuff just makes me sicker.
Dear Professor Howard, I want you to know that I just checked my grades. I found out that I have missed a whole bunch of assignments that I forgot to turn in, and my grade is suffering. I want you to know that I am concerned about this because it doesn’t reflect what I have been doing in the class. I just didn’t realize a person had to turn in stuff to get credit for it.
Professor Howard, I want you to know that I took your multiple choice placement test. I feel like I almost knew every answer but I still got 0 on each of them. Somehow I feel I can do better than that.
Dear Professor Howard, I called and left a message about getting into your class and you never answered back. I was very upset, but then I realized that I never told you who I was or how to get hold of me, and my phone blocks showing its caller id. So I am including my information in this email this time, and hoping there is still room to add.
Dear Professor Howard, I am a student in your class and my name is Danyell. I just thought I should explain about the strange spelling of my name. It is actually pronounced just like Daniel, and, yes, I am a guy not a girl. The reason it is spelled strange is that when I was born, my mother wasn’t feeling too well, so she passed the paperwork to my father to fill out, and he is a terrible speller.
Dear Professor Howard, I just wanted to write a thank you note. I want you to know that I really enjoyed your class this semester and I’m glad I took it. I didn’t plan to because I saw that you are a writer, and I didn’t think someone that is a writer could ever be a very good math teacher.
Professor Howard, I need to apologize. I wrote you an email telling you that I would miss class. I then realized that your class was Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, not Tuesday like I was thinking. So I actually made it to class. I’m sorry about making it to class when I told you I wouldn’t.
Professor Howard, I am sorry I am going to miss class today. I came down with something dreadful and I have already spread it to my roommates and those who live close to me. They already hate me for it, so I thought it would be best to not spread it any further.
Article from 5 years back as a second choice.
Trains, Schedules, and Luggage
By
Daris Howard
We decided to take our family to Chicago on a train. If you have never experienced the train, I would suggest it; it beats driving and with the price of gas is just as cheap if not cheaper. But there are things you’ll want to be aware of. First, don’t trust the Internet time schedule. We drove to Salt Lake City and my brother checked the schedule and it said the train was running 2 hours and 45 minutes late. Not relishing the thought of trying to keep seven children happy in a train station at 4:00 in the morning, especially when one is four and one is six, we decided to delay our departure.
When my wife, Donna, suggested that trains can make up time without out notice, we decided to take off. My brother, who was going to take care of the cars for us, decided to call to find out where the train was, and found out it had arrived early, not late, and had been there for a half hour. I asked him to call Donna in the other car and tell her to stick with me. I then sped up to about 85, the normal flow of the slowest traffic in Salt Lake City.
We skidded into the station and Donna ran for tickets while I, the children, my brother, and patient train employees helped throw our baggage on. We were loaded in a record three to four minutes. Throwing my brother the keys to the cars, we were finally on our way. Some other passengers came by and laughingly said that was the biggest scramble they had ever seen for a train, or anything, for that matter. However, most of the sleepy passengers just rolled over and went back to sleep in their lounge chairs.
It was a blessing for us that the train had been delayed because of a derailment, and the track that would take us around it had been too busy for the passenger train to move onto. We had arrived an hour late, just as the track was clearing, but the conductor was kind and said, “We’re already late, so what’s a few more minutes?”
As we started to pull out, we finally could sit back and try to catch our breath. It was then that the man in charge of tickets came by and we couldn’t find ours. As we started a major search, the tired passengers just covered their heads with their pillows. Finally, we found them rolled up in a blanket my wife was carrying. (The tickets, not the passengers.)
When morning finally started arriving we had many passengers stop by and ask if we were the family that had made the “mad dash for the train” in the early hours of the morning. We sheepishly had to admit that it was us.
My shirt was stained from dinner the night before and Donna suggested I change it, especially since we were attracting so much attention. I thought that was fine, partially because I was kind of tired of carrying my six-year-old’s Teddy Bear and I thought I would just stuff it into the suitcase.
I went to where our suitcases were stored. Not wanting to drag ours into the aisle, and unstack everything, I only unzipped it a little. I stuffed the bear in and then proceeded to feel around for a shirt. I got hold of one and pulled it out. I shared the suitcase with Donna and didn’t recognize the shirt as mine or hers - not that that is so unusual. I am not a clothes person and I don’t even recognize a shirt after I have worn it a thousand times. But I was pretty sure it wasn’t mine, so I stuffed it back in, hoping Donna wouldn’t mind it being wrinkled into a ball. I reached in and grabbed another. It, too, was one I didn’t recognize. I went through about a dozen shirts, stuffing each back in, when a thought suddenly crossed my mind.
I looked up one shelf and, sure enough, there was our suitcase. I put back the last shirt and carefully zipped the zipper when I suddenly remembered, I was short one Teddy Bear. I wondered if, perhaps, if I left it there, it might be pay for the ironing job the suitcase owner was going to have to do.
And that brings me to the second point. Make sure you remember where you put your suitcase.
(Daris Howard, award-winning, syndicated columnist, playwright, and author, can be contacted at daris@darishoward.com; or visit his website at http://www.darishoward.com)
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