Friday, October 13, 2006

Stomp a mudhole in my heart

After work, I had my second tutoring session with young W. I gave him the IRI locator test. This involves having a student read aloud lists of ten words each increasing in difficulty until he misses one. The highest level list on which he reads all the words without a mispronunciation is his level.

I started with the word list two grades below his, as is customary. He read the words so rapidly that I could barely ascertain that he was pronouncing them right. On the next grade list he did the same thing. On his own grade level he read them nearly as quickly with a pause before one word. Only on the list for the grade above him did he stumble, and then he mispronounced more than half the words. Which seemed odd to me, because the previous ones were such a breeze to him. It's not that much of a leap in difficulty level to the next list, so go figure.

Then we read two chapters from a Magic Tree House book. You know what those Magic Tree House books are?

Them's a license to print money is what they are. Mary Pope Osbourne's got a good gig running there.

***

Anyhoo. In the evening I drove up to Waitress T's house. We went to the venue near Cheesefries where Auric's band was playing. I got to play the big shot with my name on the guest list and VIP badges and shit. It was a terrific show; the band was in fine form. Friar, T-Bone and his wife, Gunner, local musician Sonar and others were all there in our little roped-off VIP section. Everyone thought T was my date. Which she decidedly wasn't.

Indeed, she got into a couple of phone arguments with her actual boyfriend about going out on this little concert "date" with me.

Anyway, we met Auric after the show and T got a picture, but Auric was in a hurry to leave so we didn't hang out or anything. Auric told me that he had heard from Friar that I was juggling multiple women. Ha! If they knew how boring my actual social life was they'd probably weep bitter, bitter tears.

Friar followed the band to their next gig a few cities over. Damn his happy-go-lucky blessed life! I really wish I could have gone.

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