(Post by Tracy)
Hi friends.
It’s Friday afternoon (finally). We still have not had spring break. Yes, I have summers off, but I often wonder: what is it like to work a job where your day ends when you leave the office?
That is besides the point. All day Tuesday I thought it was Wednesday. All day Wednesday I argued with myself over whether it was Wednesday or Thursday. Thursday morning came, and I was just exhausted with trying to follow our 7-day calendar and decided to let the day “just be.” And finally today is Friday.
It was 80 degrees today. The sun was shining. I walked across campus to do some photocopying, and I literally (using this word for emphasis, but correctly, thank you) thought to myself, I am so happy to be here.
Nonetheless (best word in the English language), I am happy it is Friday, because this week was a long week.
But, we should all be celebrating.
Even as I type that, I realize it’s true for so many reasons, not just the silly, facetious reason I am about to present. I’m so thankful for so many things… One of which is that next week is spring break and ¾ of my family is coming to see me!! However, that is not what this post is about. Back to my facetiousness.
We should all be celebrating: that we have made it so far.
You know what I realized last night? Every decade until about the year 2000, we were in great danger of Daily Under-Hydration.
This is how I came to this realization:
Last night, there was a school function for incoming freshmen, a fancy “Welcome Dinner” for them and their families. I was to be in attendance. On my way back to the school last night, I decided to stop at Starbucks.
It was 6:15. I’d be at the school by 6:30, where tables would be set. I could easily have gotten a glass of water or iced tea upon arrival. But no, I wanted Starbucks. I’m not even a coffee drinker, but I felt drawn to Starbucks last night. After all, I did not have my water bottle with me.
So I went. It was very tasty.
I met a coworker in the school parking lot, with whom I walked into the gym. She was smart; she was carrying her water bottle.
It got me to thinking…
How did we survive the 1990’s? (Let alone the 80’s, 70’s, 60’s…)
Here’s what I mean… When I was in high school, when you were thirsty, you asked to go to the water fountain. Or, in French class, you asked, Est-ce que je peus aller a prender l’eau? (Yes, I only put that in to see if I still could. Booyah. Ok, I did double-check it in Google translator. But I was darn close!...)
Seriously, though. The reason I was told we weren’t allowed to carry water bottles in high school was because students would sneak vodka into school. (Those Dominican sisters think of everything!)
Whether or not we were allowed to bring Starbucks drinks to school was not even considered. Who would stop on their way to school to buy a drink?? And, in 1998, what was Starbucks? Oh, you mean that drink place? (Don’t they only sell coffee?)
These days, I expect most students to be carrying a drink around with them all day. And I do the same thing! Dreadful is the day that I forget my Nalgene at home in the morning! Or my travel mug to carry my tea or hot cocoa!
And so, I asked myself last night, how did they survive? These past generations? The generations who saw the Nalgene’s predecessor – the cheap, freebee, BPA-ridden plastic water bottles? Not dishwasher safe but run through the dishwasher anyway until, after 20 washes, worn away was the name of the team or politician or real estate agent who gave it to you as cheap advertisement in the first place. What about before that?
So, thank goodness they survived. We are so spoiled today, bringing our beverage with us Wherever. We. Go. (By the way, what do you think of the latest Facebook / blogosphere / email trend of putting periods to show the emphasis you would give if it was spoken word, even though those periods are completely grammatically incorrect? I’m still undecided.)
Anyway, hats off to my parents, grandparents, all those who rode the waves of the under-hydration era and made it out on top. This Nalgene-swig’s for you!
[Epilogue: My sophomores and I just read Slaughterhouse Five. Kurt Vonnegut’s style is ca-ra-zy. So please forgive me if this post is somewhat disjointed or ramble-y. I played for my students an interview with Vonnegut in which he said he wrote well because he wasn’t an English major; English majors (he said) are taught too much about what defines good literature, and thus it hampers their ability to have confidence in their own writing.
I will not take to heart Vonnegut’s opinion on English-major-writers (yes I will, I already have), and so I will have confidence in this blog post exactly as it is and say, Dear reader, take my ramblings for what you will, and enjoy the ramble-y ride!]
[Epilogue, part deux: You know me too well; I had to go back, reread and edit. So sue me, Vonnegut! Is that the right spelling of sue?]
[P.P.P.S. Yes, students who (Heaven-forbid) stumbled upon this blog, this is a good example of satire. And yes, that will be on your test on Tuesday.]
