We interrupt this interminable faculty meeting for some comedy relief… I suppose that people in almost every profession could say, with at least some justification, that their jobs are unlike any other. That’s sort of by definition. But I think everyone here will know what I mean when I say that when you’re teaching junior high, every DAY is unlike any other. Every hour. There was a cartoon on the wall in our faculty lounge for years and years. It showed an elderly lady–the stereotypically old-school teacher–standing serenely smiling amid the flames of Hell. There were two devils, standing on either side of her and one was sort of poking her with his pitchfork, as I recall. The other one was saying, “Don’t bother. We can’t do anything to her; she was a junior high teacher.” I don’t know that I would call it Hell, but as they used to say in the old cop shows: In this job, you see all kinds. Example: The Clicker Nightmare. As everyone here knows, I use CPS clickers almost daily in my classroom. And the kids sort of jones a bit when we don’t use them for a few days. (“You mean we have to

