My birthday story
Last week I turned 57. And in class, I told kids a meandering story. It started with my birthday, but it went other places. And it had a Big Point, which I got to at the end, though it took a while to get there.
Growing up I listened to a Thanksgiving song. It began on Thanksgiving, but it meandered. And it had a Big Point at the end, though it took a while to get there.
Now I’m not good enough to copy Alice’s Restaurant. Not even a pale imitation. I certainly can’t sing, though Arlo to be perfectly honest doesn’t really sing his song either. But I think my Big Point was a good Big Point (so was Arlo’s) and hope that makes up for my overlong story.
Anyhow, here’s the story I told, some full text, some outline… meandering freely and widely… until I get to Freedom Day.
Born 2/4/64 – kind of cool, all powers of 2. – does that predict me being a math teacher? Nah. There were a lot of people born that day, and most are probably not math teachers. (Kid looked it up, 385,000 each day. I calculated, population was under 4 billion when I was born, under 8 billion today, so maybe half that number – 200,000?)
I was born in Grace-New Haven Hospital (my mom won’t see this, but if she did she would quickly CONTINUE READING: The Day After NYC Freedom Day | JD2718