I rented a boat yesterday on a lake close by – I was pretty proud of myself and my surprise!  It wasn’t a yacht or catamaran and according to my wife she questioned the “premiumness” of my pontoon rental.

It started a couple of weekends ago when we had a Murphy’s Law couple of days and in my short-sighted brilliance I decided to take the family to the lake and go fishing.  Now mind you none of us fish but we all swim so that’s close enough, right?  We all woke up on another COVID shut-in Sunday and I said “surprise we’re going to the lake.”  By 10 am I’m out the door sulking and running errands because I had no takers on the offer.  My teacher wife rattled off all the planning and preps that had to be completed before Monday, and my two boys retreated quickly from the offer.  I was mad and planned to go it alone and then wised up briefly enough to call and reschedule.  The beauty of rescheduling something like this is the surcharge you agree to pay – I was no longer winning on this deal.  It keeps getting better…

So we get to the next Saturday which is when I had rescheduled and we’re well on our way, just short of donning the sunblock.  My phone rings and it’s the boat rental place; winds are too strong so they need to cancel.  The rental place reassures me I’m not paying another reschedule fee so I should be happy right?!

The original date I booked was a record hot one for October – high was just shy of 90.  In the end my wife and I went out yesterday, and still experienced a fair amount of sun.  In the fiasco of it all, I negotiated down on rental time and up on rental quality – I secured the Premium Pontoon!  After the intro course and general questions over boat operations (a five minute exercise), I was given the green light with no idea of what I was doing.  I qualified twice that up on the gear shift was forward and down was reverse.  After that, we were cruising, premium-style. 

It turned out to be a great day by my estimates at least.  The boat wasn’t brag worthy but it felt like you were driving your dad’s big, old, fancy Cadillac (from 1990).  My negotiated rental had us on the lake for 3 hours and we spent a fair amount of that time talking about teacher/parent conferences that are coming up.  So even though plenty may judge the brain break my wife and I took mid-week, educators know exactly what our conversations covered. 

We had some fun on Lake NearUs and I can now remember the last time I drove a boat.  It unfortunately was an escape from it all; not life or living or topics that deep.  Maybe just a nice simple boat detour from the daily grind.  Even when we’re on vacation my wife always notices it takes me few days to get with the program and fully check-out so I can check-in.  A premium pontoon isn’t for everyone but it’s a great conversation starter.  If you live near us and rent one this weekend, be sure to take a jacket and a poncho!

I heard a song the other day that gave me pause and as I reflected it reminded me of things I tend to overlook.  I grew up in about as stable a home as there was I suppose; parents married young, had a family, got jobs, and stayed with them.  I lived in the same house for 17 years, went to 1 elementary school, 1 middle school, and 1 high school.  Subsequently I went on to 1 four-year bachelor’s school, 1 master’s school, and 1 post-graduate degree program.  I think all the stability growing up gave me confidence to pursue far and away interests.  And subsequently my wife and family have called a few places home.

Elvie Shane is a new country music artist to me but apparently was competing on the biggest stage as early as 2016 on American Idol.  He may have several hits but on the analog wheels I still have in my car his simple titled track “My Boy” just made sense.  It’s a beautiful tribute to blended families which tends to be equally the norm.

He ain’t got my smile, that don’t bother me a bit
He’s got somebody else’s eyes I’m seeing myself in
I’m holding on to every moment, God knows I’ve missed a few
The day we met I knew I had some catching up to do
He ain’t my blood, ain’t got my name
But if he did, I’d feel the same
I wasn’t there for his first steps
But I ain’t missed a ball game yet
And that ain’t ever gonna change
I could never walk away
Yeah, he’s my son and that’s my choice
He ain’t my blood but he’s my, he’s my boy

What a heartfelt raw expression of love in about as nonthreatening a manner as I can imagine.  It made me specifically think of teachers.  When I was a kid my mom and I attended a nontraditional Sunday service by a Methodist minister who had grown old and ambitious.  He had long led the local church and decided in his later years to do something remarkably hipster for the time.  He was also a pioneer in the live stream concept to provide outreach to those who could not attend.  He wrote a book about the topic of power, in the context of love and holiness, and it opens with the following:

“We are people who live in a time almost dedicated to the concept of power.  We love power.  If we are to believe the television commercials, we even want our detergents to have ‘bulldozer power.’  We want automobiles with 400-horsepower engines, capable of cruising at 120 miles an hour, when we know we have to drive in zones from 35 to 65 miles an hour.” 

Those are excerpts from the book Dr. Dykes penned some 30 years ago.  What Dr. Dykes was trying to teach me in my infrequent church attendance back then was not so much about power as it was about the collective embrace. A more notable figure to the K12 audience is Michael Fullan who has written extensively on educational leadership including a series on “What’s Worth Fighting For?”  He is also often associated with his teachings on moral imperatives:

As this pandemic persists, we’re witnessing educators embrace kids like never before.  I want nothing more than to be that ember for my own kids, and I want them to channel their fire in a way that improves circumstance to scale.  If nothing else, I hope they come to understand this isn’t about us because “us” has a pretty good advantage; our smarts should be focused on all.  And if our moral compass has room to lead a few more, as teachers keep modeling for us, what a difference that might make.