When WILL the Bass Drop, Blaster?
Even Rascals need some time off. Time to get away from the grind, such as it is. I took a rare, and much needed Sick Day on Friday. I had no idea how run down I had gotten until I had the time to just attempt to sleep it off. The experience was instructive.
Normally, I would have been stressed about how things went in my absence. I’d have this huge amount of responsibility attached for a classroom that I was not in fact running, due to being out sick. Lonely Island said, with great wisdom, “Cool guys don’t look at explosions, they just turn their backs and they walk away.” Clearly, the band’s wisdom is in play here…I couldn’t really be troubled to think too hard about what might have happened that I had little to no control over. Just need to walk away.
I imagine that I will be coming back to tales of student fights, massive tagging of the school itself, and other such charming misbehaviors. I have little hope that my assignment was in fact done, given the quality of substitute teachers that I usually see. I’m mostly just hoping that the damage was kept down to a minimum.
That’s a sad set of expectations, for what has become a sad setting. I was asked this weekend what I find rewarding about teaching, and my response was, “Very little of what I’m doing now.” The “Cool guys don’t look at explosions” mentality goes all the way up…Tommy Chang, the ISIC Director, is walking away from this miasma of troubles and heading out to the Boston Public School District, to be superintendent. You can be certain that he won’t look back as he walks away.
All of that will be an issue for the day of this post, Monday. As I write it, Sunday night, I am amazed at the difference in perspective. I am sitting quietly in my house, after hours of reading and some drawing, listening to music and surrounded by superheroes and ponies. The idea that I will be leaving this environment of quiet intellectual pursuit to attempt to supervise what is not unlike a Demilitarized Zone, with the fiction that I should somehow deliver instruction glazed over it like a patina…that idea seems silly.
Almost as silly as the Autobot above, Blaster. He turned from a boombox into a robot. That’s cool, especially for the 80’s…except he had to fight guys that turned from jet fighters into robots. Like…he should be TINY by comparison. Somehow, when you watch the animated series, he grows to the same proportions as the jet fighter Decepticons. If that’s the case, shouldn’t he be a bewilderingly heavy boombox? What kind of superhuman music enthusiast could possibly carry such a massively heavy sound system?
Still…he is cool. I don’t draw enough Transformers. Sometimes I wonder why, since they are undeniably cool. In this case, I wanted to draw some of the Rascals enjoying themselves, and having Blaster DJ some sort of party seemed excellent to me. It just came together pretty quickly. Blaster seems like he would be a pretty good DJ, but not nearly as excellent as DaaVinci. Click here to find out just when the bass will drop.
There you have it. As I understand it, except for the Armageddon like conclusion, that is not unlike what many modern clubs are like. Yet one more reason to hang out with Blaster, the Autobot, and listen to 80’s music.