Poop is real. And gross.

So, everybody's stepped on a piece of gum, right? I mean, this has happened to every person at least once. It's gross and annoying and you track it into your car or house or sit on it or whatever. It's sticky, it spreads, and it's hard to clean off.

And, of course, the same thing happens with poop. Everybody has stepped in poop. It's gross. It stinks, and you're all like what in the world is that? Why do I keep smelling poop? And you look at the cat and you're like dude you stink. And by the time you've figure out that it's your poop-shoe that stinks, you've already sat cross-legged on your couch or put your feet up on your coffee table or lord knows what all. 

So those things have all happened to you, right? Or someone you know. That stuff happens.

And if you catch it early enough, you don't have to take your shoes inside your house. You can just rinse them off with a hose and leave 'em on the porch.

But imagine that all happened to you while you were barefoot. You can't leave your feet on the doorstep. Think about it: somebody's chewed-up gum gooed all up on your heel. Or some stranger's discarded, possibly still smoking cigarette with their saliva all over it stuck to your foot. Or a filthy shard of glass from a beer bottle cutting into your foot. Or, worse, some dog's slimy, disease-ridden feces all up in the cracks between your toes.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately, because it is 65 degrees here in AL and apparently that means everybody walk to class barefoot. I don't mean walk to the park in flops and then take them off when you get there. I don't mean walk out to your own backyard garden barefoot, or walk along the shore barefoot. That barefoot behavior is normal and fine. I'm talking here about crazy people actually traveling around from one destination to another barefoot. On purpose. And usually in a hurry.

This is happening in the world. And it's gross.

Someone else's student came into my shared office the other day--barefoot. That's right. This kid walked into his professor's office with no shoes on.

It was hard for me not to say "what's wrong with you people?!" I went with something like, "are you sure that's what you want to do? I'm a little worried about you." The kid reassured me that he mostly sticks to sidewalks. Oh, great. Because everybody knows nobody ever spits or hocks loogies or throws their cigarettes or spits out their filthy chew or gum or leaves their stinking pile of dog feces on sidewalks! 

I just said, "you know, poop is on the ground. And poop is gross." This is what it's come down to. There are kids out there who either don't know that poop is gross, or don't care.

Tactile and olfactory grossness. Disease-transmitting grossness. All around grossness. Grossness no person in their right mind wants on their feet.

Apparently this is a message we need to work on spreading. Poop is gross, people. And even if you don't mind putting your feet in poop, nobody else wants you to track poop into their office, or to see or smell your pooped up, gummed, up, gross bare feet. Put some shoes on.

Vintage vals

I was thinking the other day about what Valentine's Day is like for kids and what a big deal it must seem. How you spend an hour at school decorating your Valentine's box, and you buy valentines for everyone in your class. I don't remember if we were allowed to put candies in certain ones for our friends, but I do remember that those were the best ones--those little 3-D envelopes you just knew had a red heart sucker or a couple of conversation hearts in it. Sometimes the rich kids would stuff them with a chocolate heart.

Looking at those little "50 pack for kids" valentines at Target the other day, I was struck by how commercial they all are. I'm sure they were like that when I was a kid, but as an adult it makes me sad--like, to tell someone you like them, you have to support Disney or the Hannah Montana Corporation or Justin Beiber, Inc? (are those the same?)

I've always been drawn to Vintage Whatevers, but in light of the above, I find the vintage valentine's lack of commercialism-media grossness so refreshing. I mean, I'm sure they had their status-symbol associations, but in general they just seem so much more earnest to me. Like, they're not about showing off what cartoon or hip pop star you like. They're about love, friendship, and kindness.

There are so many great vintage vals out there.* Here are some of my faves:

Valentines that would get your kid expelled from school today

A! naked! baby! Naked! Now that's a buttload of trouble.

That's wholesome. 

Kitten valentines (duh)

This combines both categories--cuteness and expulsion! 

Seriously. I would not kit about true love.  

Valentines with food puns

I have kind of a gutter mind, so this one makes me giggle.  I mean, his spoon's totally in her tea.

I would love to get pickled with you, my darling onionhead! 

Three puns in this one! THREE!

I would totally send you this one,
since turnips are the only vegetables I can grow. 

Victorian amazingness

As much as I love the puns, these simple images are nice too.

Here's a really cool reception/ At least you'll say there's no deception/
It says as plain as it can say/ Old fellow you'd best stay away
Trans: You are not good enough for a classy girl like me. For starters, get new pants. 

Finally, if you have five minutes, you should go here and watch some victorian cards in action. The little surprises may be the adult equivalent of finding a conversation heart in your Miley Cyrus© card. 

*Of course, I am not one of those folks who think that everything that's vintage is awesome. There are some amazingly racist vintage valentines that, rightly so, would also fall under the first category (except, sadly, maybe not in Alabama). There's also a baby cow valentine that reads, "I'd veal so happy if you'd be my valentine." Both of those make me want to cry my eyes out. That's why I didn't post them. I want to think about happy things instead, like the possibility of the roofers finally being done on the house, and eating sushi tonight with my honey. HVD! 

Food porn for southerners & other folks who like good stuff

My husband makes the best biscuits in the world. That is not a euphamism for anything.

If you want to make the best biscuits in the world, you can too. But I can't tell you how, because I don't want the Cooks Illustrated people to sue me. But if you go here, you can learn how.

Here's what the best biscuits in the world look like. Do you have a drool rag handy?

Old person confoundment

I don't know if it's my age or the fact that I teach and therefore am around a lot of kids (mostly college freshman), but I have no clue what's going on with these people. Nothing they do makes any sense to me. There are a lot of things about the rising "ME generation" that confound me. (By the way, they don't know they're called that.)

Here's what I mean: the fact that they have to be repeatedly told not to use their phones in class; expecting an A for simply showing up; the fact that their default for referring to instructors is "First Name"--not "professor," "doctor," or "Mrs."; the fact that this generation that grew up with the internet refuses to google anything, etc. etc... 

That's all part of my ongoing bafflement. Here's what I'm confounded with this morning: Since when did students just start choosing to not do major assignments? I don't mean "life/technical issues, can I have an extension" kind of thing... I mean an email alerting me that "I am not going to do this essay."

I was a really good student. I was in the honors program. I loved being in school. I respected my professors (well, of course there were a couple who didn't deserve it, like the Spanish prof who only ever spoke in English). I did not fire off demanding last-minute emails to them; I visited office hours. And when I had "technical issues" and lost an essay, I sucked it up, had a brief meltdown, and retyped it. College was important to me, and to the people around me--not just a stop on the way to "I'm going to strike it rich and be awesome in life" land. I worked hard, went to class, and I never just chose not to do assignments. That never even occurred to me.

So, is this entitled "I'm not going to do it" behavior unusual for students? Or is is just unusual to me?
 

PS: I should add that I love teaching, and I have several respectful and good students, but they are not the majority. What I'm describing here, overall, is representative.

PPS: Who wants to join me at Shoneys for the Early Bird Dinner Buffet? 4pm? Then for dessert we can eat butterscotch on the porch swing and yell "get off my lawn" at all the neighborhood kids...