Endless vocation

Feb 25, 2009 at 6:00 am

What are a few days of school? It’s not like you’re going to miss anything. 

There’s a legislative push to waive up to 10 school days that Kentucky children missed thanks to hurricane winds and unrepentant ice. The lawmaker who filed the bill was quoted as saying, “We don’t want to push the school year abnormally forward into June.”

Perish the thought! Only freaks of nature and children who live in northern states go to school in — oh, the humanity — JUNE!

Even more inconceivable is the fact many parents and teachers stand in favor of this dismissal of convenience. That Kentucky already has fewer instructional days than most states and ranks pretty near rock-bottom in national assessments of educational progress apparently aren’t good enough reasons to keep kids in class.

Besides, it’s time children learned that in America you work the system; you take the shortcut.

So long as nobody’s watching, you can pretend to be a paragon of aviation integrity while running up monster strip club bills on company credit cards.

You’re 10 years old. You deserve a vacation. If Mom and Dad planned on leaving for Aunt Margie’s lake house 10 seconds after the final bell rings then by golly you’d better kiss that extra class time goodbye!

When you’re a star ballplayer, just tell fans that your cousin bought the drugs and claim that you were too young and stupid to realize you were shooting up steroids. Do remember to keep a straight face though, if when this happened when you were 28 years old and had been playing in the major leagues for several seasons.

Working the frozen custard machine could seriously impact the rest of your life. Your boss won’t understand that you have to miss the first few days of work because the meanies at the Department of Education are insisting you attend school for the amount of time regulated by law.

Just profess your indignation when anyone dares to question your integrity just because a governor facing indictment appointed you to the U.S. Senate seat he is accused of trying to sell. Take special note here, kids — you might want to back off that righteous stance a tad if you’re going to tell a confirmation panel you had one conversation about money and the Senate vacancy, and then later admit that in truth you had several.

Really, what’s 10 measly days of school going to matter when you can be the single and unemployed, not to mention certifiably delusional, mother of 14 children all under the age of eight? America won’t mind being the financial godparents of your welfare-bound brood. Much.

Nobody wants to work past Memorial Day, certainly not the few vocal and insultingly apathetic teachers pushing for this waiver.  No one in their right mind would make the argument that good teachers successfully motivate students to learn regardless of the season. 

If after the tragic football-practice death of one of your students some idiot decides to e-mail you with the hope of alerting you to an employee’s potentially contributing negligence, dismiss the missive as hate mail. Delete! Delete! Delete!

Several teachers have said that with June comes a point of universal mental saturation, so it must be true. No one should expect you and your classmates to make an effort and actually value education as a means of achieving wealth and prosperity. Why would any rational human be so obtuse to think something as trivial as an education might reward a person with a passion for knowledge and lifelong zest for learning?

Dismiss any and all ideas about budgeting, scrimping, saving and sacrificing. Buy a home way beyond your means. Max out your credit cards. Get so upside down on your mortgage that strangers mistake you for a bat. Just cry “Mr. President, save me!” And he will, much to the dismay of responsible, hardworking people who made their mortgage payments on time, kept their greed and instant gratification in check and didn’t overextend themselves at whim.

Those saps missed the entitlement boat a long time ago. As kids, those goodie-goodies probably did their homework, studied for tests and read books over summer vacation. Heck, they probably thought school was important.