On Being The Spouse of A Teacher

THE SPOUSE OF A TEACHER - OR "I MARRIED CONTINUING EDUCATION"

I'M GOING TO WRITE A BOOK ABOUT MY EXPERIENCES - A BELIEVE-IT-OR-NOT EDITION

     I'VE BEEN KIDDING SUZANNE FOR ABOUT A DOZEN YEARS, THAT I AM GOING TO WRITE A TELL-ALL BOOK, FROM THE PERSPECTIVE OF A TEACHER'S SPOUSE. THAT'S WHEN SHE CALLS ME A "LOUSE." I TOLD HER IT WOULD BE A NO-HOLDS-BARRED EXPOSE, ON THE STRESSES AND CONSTANT CONSTERNATION, OF HAVING TO DEAL WITH THE DOWNSIDE OF TEACHING SPIN-OFF……OR WHAT I CALL THE "WHIRLING DERVISH," SYNDROME, MEANING HOW THE SPINNING DRILL SLOWLY COMES TO A HALT…..BUT NOT QUICKLY ENOUGH. I KEEP RUNNING BUT SHE CATCHES ME. I APPARENTLY NEED TO LEARN MY LESSONS.

     SUZANNE DOESN'T STOP TEACHING WHEN THE SCHOOL DAY IS OVER, AND JUST BECAUSE THE KIDS HAVE ALL ROLLED-ON HOME, DOESN'T MEAN HER DETERMINATION TO TEACH SOMEONE "SOMETHING," IS DETERRED WHATSOEVER, BY THE LACK OF A FORMAL CLASSROOM TO INSTRUCT. APPARENTLY, THIS SPOUSE, FILLS A VERY IMPORTANT ROLE, IN ONGOING EDUCATION, WHICH FOR MY WIFE, IS A "24-7" ACTUALITY. I'VE GOT TO TELL YOU, IT TAKES A LOT OF GETTING USED TO……AND ESPECIALLY FOR A GUY WHO HATED SCHOOL WITH A PASSION, FOR EVERY MOMENT HE WAS STUCK IN A CLASSROOM. SO WHY THE HELL DID I MARRY A TEACHER YOU ASK. WELL, CUPID GOT ME, YOU SEE, AND THEN IT DIDN'T MATTER IF SUZANNE WAS A PLUMBER OR PEDIATRICIAN. I WAS IN IT FOR THE LONG HAUL. I JUST HADN'T ANTICIPATED HOW TEACHING IS KIND OF A HUMAN PATINA, GARNERED FROM YEARS IN THE DEMANDING PROFESSION. SHE DOESN'T CONSIDER WRITING A DEMANDING CAREER. "IT'S A LUXURY, THAT'S WHAT IT IS," SHE SAYS, WHEN I TELL HER HOW HARD I WORK……AND HOW LITTLE I PROFIT.

GETTING AN EDUCATION IN HOME ECONOMICS

     When I complain about being taught too much, too often, all she will say is that "Consider yourself lucky. If I was hired to tutor you, it would cost a lot of money….and with your shortfalls, you'd be bankrupt, and definitely my dependent." "But a smart one," she adds with a steely grin, as if etched by time and education.

     What's ironic is that I would do anything to skip school, as a kid, and as far as feigning illness, I became a master player at suffering from frequent bouts of influenza. It was academy award acting, and my mother was no match for the master faker. There were only a few teachers who could stand me anyway, and it was a mutual feeling. So they were happy when I didn't show up, and I was quite willing to work from home every day I could. In fact, it started a life-long relationship with researching and writing from a home studio, which is what I'm doing this moment. I just hated being indoors, and I daydreamed so much, the whole teaching exercise failed me. Except music. John Rutherford was the one teacher created by a kind God, who inspired me to work harder to play better. I wanted to be in his band. In fact, I would have taken nothing but "music classes," if they'd had allowed such a thing.

     This isn't a slur against teachers. Heck I married one. It was me! I wanted to be in a canoe, on a Muskoka or Algonquin lake, solving the Tom Thomson Mystery. I wanted my freedom to explore. I found education, in my day, confining, and the classroom like a "shadow box," where interesting decorations are placed for effect but not purpose.

     I married a former classmate from Bracebridge and Muskoka Lakes Secondary School. A country girl from uptown (maybe it was downtown) Windermere, on the shore of beautiful Lake Rosseau. I was a rough looking Charles Manson clone, with the scent of Woodstock in my hair, and we thought we liked each other. But it wasn't to be just then. We had to have a few life experiences first. They almost killed me, but she had enjoyed home and family, and the budding of a career……while I was in an alcohol induced stupor, writing poetry to my girlfriends, who thought I might have been another Leonard Cohen. Eventually Suzanne and I came together, and marital bliss was the first chapter of our days together. Then she started teaching me. Everything I needed to know. I had a resident teacher. One who reminded me that this wasn't high school any more, and I could feign illness and slack off from my personal improvements.

     I would be struck by a great white shard of explosive lightning, if I was ever to suggest, even in jest, that I'm so perfect as to no longer require upgrading. Life is a continual learning curve. Right to the end. So my only real problem, as it was in high school, arrives each day, with Suzanne's gentle but frequent tutorials, about how to be proficient at home economics. The so-called efficiencies of good and economic living, that she has been teaching for the past thirty years in one form or another. And by her unshakable conviction that her old dog can definitely learn new tricks. Apparently, she tells her friends that I'm incorrigible. A lot of Gravenhurst politicians are yelling out with ear to ear smiles…. "hear, hear," being in full agreement.

     When I slop tomato sauce on my shirt, I know what that means to her. I'm a student needing some assistance. When I leave the plastic seal off the bread bag, I need a detention. For the indiscretion of putting my socks and underwear in my shirt drawer, I need remedial assistance. Leaving the fridge door open, while making a Dagwood sandwich (like Fred Schulz and I talk about, while salivating), Suzanne always intervenes, even if she has had to jump out of bed like a ninja, to save kilowatts and keep the temperature in the ice box from falling…..as if it's an end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it thing. (So other stuff is spoiled) She explains how the fridge works, and how letting all the cold out, costs us money in energy usage. Hey, I never said she was wrong. I said it is hard living with a teacher, who doesn't work on the clock. There's no turning the woman off, from the teaching profession. Hell I thought I'd get good marks, for always putting the toilet seat back down, to avoid those late night watery dips, but no way; she found something else in the bathroom context, that I wasn't doing according to Hoyle. She insulted me, and my favorite author one day, by saying "You and Paul Rimstead were cut from the same cloth." I think she called me a slob at Paul's expense. We just didn't worship home economics the way she taught it to her students for all those years.

     After many moons together, Suzanne and I have come to an agreement about the limits of teaching here at Birch Hollow. I have established a wind-down period of every day and every week, so that for at least part of our time together, she can drop her guard, and stop feeling the necessity to always be teaching something to someone. It's hard. Do you know she even taught her own sons, Andrew and Robert at Gravenhurst High School, on the job and off the clock. They got their education as a constant you might say. So now, on the cusp of retiring, I have my work cut out for me. This is one of the reasons we have worked so hard to establish our retirement business well in advance. It's the reason we began planning for retirement in the 1980's, so that I could figure out a way of deprogramming the consummate professional, before we're together all the time in blissful senior citizenship. Then she told me the other day, she's already been hired to teach knitting to a family friend, once she takes the plunge as a full time antique dealer. Basically, what she's saying, is that she plans to continue teaching, just not in a classroom. Which does make me a little nervous. Maybe she'll want to tutor students as well as knit. I don't know. I'm trying to figure this out, but as I've explained to many friends and family over the years, teaching has been her greatest love interest, and it might well be heart breaking to have to eventually say goodbye.

     I've never minded being second string to her career. I'm proud to be married to a teacher. I don't know if she feels the same, being hitched to a writer / antique dealer. You know, I don't mind the tutorials, up close and personal, and I know I'm in need of ongoing education, to function without hurting myself or others (in the kitchen for example), if only I could convince her, that it's okay to drop one's guard, after so many years of service to mankind. If I can't make her believe this, or change her passions, I have a canoe on standby, just in case. I will just stay out of her way, in the early going of retirement, and let her adjust to a new way of earning a living……without a classroom attendance in front of her.

     I'll let you know how this works out, as the time to leave draws closer.

     Thanks so much for joining this little editorial occasion. It's nice having your company. I hope we can companion again sometime soon.

      Just in passing…..it has been a good week for roof repairs at the Opera House. A few dry days coming as well. It's nice to report good news for a change.