Saturday, February 07, 2004


Has anyone else wondered about the secret lives of teachers? I have. Many, many-a times. It all started with Mr. L, the high school math teacher I never had. One earring through his left ear and red and blue chunks in his hair, he is the epitomy of 80s kitsch. That, and he wears plaid. Blue plaid. So in essence, New Order packaged with Neil Tennant from the Pet Shop Boys with Boy George in there for added colour and a Scottish lumberjack thrown in to justify the plaid. Which gets the gears in the noggin' crankin'. Does the seemingly composed Mr. L find time to go to warehouse raves, get high off ecstasy, then run over grannies in his Chevette because he was too distracted listening to WHAM! on his 8-track? Maybe he doesn't try to stay in the '80s. Maybe he lives in a yuppie duplex and dances underneath his newly installed strobe light his wife/girlfriend/mother/lover keeps telling him to throw out, and dressing the way he does at school is his only refuge from the dredgery that awaits for him back home.

What about other teachers though?

a South African slave owner who whips herself with a mace during Bed of Roses as she collects her blood in a vile presented to the She-Devil.

a science junkie who attends comedy clubs then later trecks through the woods in cirque-instocks like a hippie hermit.

a British know-it-all who hums the theme to I Dream of Jeannie while hunting down prey in his neck of the 'hood. In this case: children seated in minivans.

has a real-life twin. Life already too exciting to contemplate.