Good Morning Gentle Readers,
The Boy has an ongoing interest in the manly arts. His latest creation is a rod iron Christmas candle holder for the house. Sometimes rod iron is called wrought iron, which I mention so as to remain clear on the particulars.
Last week, after he zipped through his literature final, the teacher cut him loose and he moseyed over to metal shop where he won five bucks in a friendly game of poker. I suppose it should bother me a bit, but it doesn't.
Oddly enough, in public school's crazy, zero-tolerance, alternate universe, where no student has any rights worth respecting, playing cards are tolerated. Back in the days of my vagrant yoot, a pack of Bicycles would get you the boot as quickly as a pack of Marlboros.
Don't get me started on pen knives, random drug searches, or ibuprofen. Did somebody say it's a free country?