Prestigius had a viewing of the historic inauguration for the whole school in the auditorium. The kindergarten classes went for a little while.
During Biden's swearing-in, J turned to me and whispered, "What does the Vice President do?"
I said, "If we're very lucky, nothing."
Afterward, they shared their feelings about the celebrations.
"I loved it. He talked about something and there was music." (That's about as much as I typically get from formal ceremonies, I admit.)
"It was awesome because I voted for Obama." (A common sentiment.)
"The lady singing had a very funny hat on." (She sure did!)
"I liked it when they shot the cannon."
I also read them a book about Martin Luther King's life and work that ended with the information that he got shot and killed. B, a feisty, funny little guy, excitedly raised his hand.
"Martin Luther King was shot by black people!" he blurted.
"No he wasn't," I said. "Who told you that?"
He looked crestfallen. "I was guessing?"
I think he missed the point of the book.
The school receptionist stopped by my room and we tossed a couple of friendly barbs at each other, as we do. She turned to the kids and said, "Kids, Mr. Chance is fifteen hundred years old. He was born in 200 B.C.!"
I said, "That would make me 2,208 years old."
She said in surprise, "You can figure that out so quickly?"
I gestured into the room. "Have a seat. Stay a while. I'll get your name on a chair by tomorrow."
Tonight, I was driving my mother back from visiting my father and we passed one of those big digital time and temperature displays outside banks. My mother said, "That sign says it's five of. Five of what, though?"
Mother: "Oh, I guess it says 50 F. That's the temperature, I suppose."
Mother: "Can that be right? It feels so warm."
Me: "You mean here in this car? With the heat on?"