This is what I REALLY learned in school (Sunday's Poem, 17)

Why Latin Should Still Be Taught in High School
by Christopher Bursk

Because one day I grew so bored
with Lucretius, I fell in love
with the one object that seemed to be stationary,
the sleeping kid two rows up,
the appealing squalor of his drooping socks.
While the author of De Rerum Natura was making fun
of those who fear the steep way and lose the truth,
I was studying the unruly hairs on Peter Diamond’s right leg.
Titus Lucretius Caro labored, dactyl by dactyl
to convince our Latin IV class of the atomic
composition of smoke and dew,
and I tried to make sense of a boy’s ankles,
the calves’ intriguing
resiliency, the integrity to the shank,
the solid geometry of my classmate’s body.
Light falling through blinds,
a bee flinging itself into a flower,
a seemingly infinite set of texts
to translate and now this particular configuration of atoms
who was given a name at birth,
Peter Diamond, and sat two rows in front of me,
his long arms, his legs that like Lucretius’s hexameters
seemed to go on forever, all this hurly-burly
of matter that had the goodness to settle
long enough to make a body
so fascinating it got me
through fifty-five minutes
of the nature of things.
______________________________________________________

I'm not crazy about non-rhyming poems, but I made an exception because I can't recall, offhand, a poem that so accurately captured exactly what something is like, in this case, that feeling of time stretching out endlessly, of something being so boring that your attention can focus on the most minute detail and expand on it endlessly...and not only does this poem do that, but it makes its point admirably: that perhaps the mind's wandering to focus on something, anything, other than what we are being taught is not, always, a bad thing, that 55 minutes focusing on Peter Diamond's right leg might be more valuable in some ways than 55 minutes of Latin.

No more sleepless nights.

Look around the room you're sitting in right now. How many different ways could someone get into that room -- someone you don't WANT getting into that room?

I'm in our living room, 'puting away, and there's the front door over there, and then behind me are two long thin windows and then over by the dining room table are two windows that are big and let in lots of light and also are only 1 1/2' off the ground, perfect for climbing into. Each of those are hidden by bushes or around the side of our house away from the street lights.

The more I think about it, the more our house is a security nightmare, and you know when I think about it the most? Those nights when everyone is asleep and I'm reading in bed and I think I hear something downstairs, and I instantly have to wonder if someone got into the back door in the playroom, the door we never use but which might have been unlocked... and then I have to wonder if I'm going to be able to protect my family and what I could do to stop them from taking any of our stuff or hurting anyone.

How many entry points do you have that could let someone in? I've got about 10, maybe 15 -- which means I could use the Platinum Package wireless security system from GE Protect America: 15 entry points, a motion detector and a garage door sensor, all for just $149 installation -- or about 1/10 of what ADT charges. They monitor 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year, and help can be on the way if someone breaks in. And I don't even have to do anything online. I can just call 877-470-2751 (and by calling that number, I get 2 keychain remotes with the order, so Sweetie and I can both protect the house.)

The garage door sensor especially appeals to me. How could neighbors, or cops, tell if someone opening your garage door wasn't supposed to be doing that? It'd just look normal: a person coming home late at night, pulling in a car. Or while you're away -- your neighbors wouldn't know they weren't supposed to be getting into your garage. So putting an alarm on the garage makes sense.

They've got packages up to 10 entry points with free installation, and the monthly fees are low -- but I'm not worried, for a change, about monthly fees. I'm worried about my family, and how I can keep them safe. And the more I think about it, the more that Platinum package appeals to me. I don't want any more sleepless nights, and I certainly don't want anyone getting into my house.

Sweetie wouldn't know funny if it ... I'd better not finish that. She reads these entries. Hi, Sweetie! Love you! (Sweetie's Hunk of the Week, 16)

Sweetie's Hunk of the Week is Andy Samberg.

You/Sweetie know him as: That guy who sings all those funny songs with Justin Timberlake -- and, you know, Justin Timberlake ought to just go ahead and join the cast of Saturday Night Live, shouldn't he?

I know him as: The only reason that anyone pays attention to "SNL" anymore. I tried watching it with Sweetie last week because she wanted to see what song Samberg and Justin Timberlake would do, and it was painful. That "Target Girl?" Dumb. And Seth Myers' news jokes went downhill with that Elliott Spitzer skit. I was certain he'd lost a bet with someone and was forced to air that.



Thing That Makes You Go Hmmmm About Him: This:








Also, he once had filming of a comedy skit interrupted when Kiefer Sutherland saw the skit, which featured a (fake) mugging, and leaped out of his car to try to help the (fake) victim. Honesly!

Reason I Tell Myself Sweetie Likes Him: I assumed it was because he's funny.

Actual Reason Sweetie Likes Him: And I was right. Sweetie says: "He's funny." Mainly because of this:



Point I'd Like To Make About Sweetie's Actual Reason for Liking Him: But she also likes this:



Which would all be very great for Andy Samberg. It should be great because he wants to be funny, and now here's someone -- Sweetie-- who says she likes him because he's funny. Only, Sweetie thinks that the part in this trailer (at about 1:36) where the woman bounces out the window is the most hilarious thing ever put on film:



Seriously. She really believes that's the funniest scene ever. All you have to do, if you see Sweetie, is say "You like this?" and she'll crack up. So, you know, Andy, you're not exactly in great company on Sweetie's list of funny things.