portentous

I spent much of the weekend with family, celebrating my younger brother's fairly recent engagement to a delightful young woman. During Saturday night's party, I chatted with a current attendee of my alma-mini-mater, Elma Middle School.

Turns out that most of my former teachers are still there. Mr. L's classes still papier-mache planet Earth. Mrs. W's kids still chart biomes. Mr. P. drives the same Mustang, and parks right up front in the same spot. Mr. O. is now an assistant principal. (Mr. T. has dropped sentence-diagramming, though. And Mr. H. no longer leads laps around the track.)

In fifteen years, where will I be? Will I have worn deep grooves in my teaching brain? Will new technologies baffle me? Will I be driving the same car? Will I have a tacky tie for every day of the year--and then some?

Please--don't answer.