Keep Scribbling! Something Will Happen.

In The High School Classroom You Are A Drill Sergent, A Rabbi, A Shoulder To Cry On, A Disciplinarian, A Singer, A Low-level Scholar, A Clerk, A Referee, A Clown, A Counselor, A Dress-code Enforcer, A Conductor, An Apologist, A Philosopher, A Collaborator, A Tap Dancer, A Politician, A Therapist, A Fool, A Traffic Cop, A Priest, A Mother-father-brother-sister-uncle-aunt, A Bookeeper, A Critic, A Psychologist, The Last Straw.

Oh, God Above, If Heaven Has A Taste It Must Be An Egg With Butter And Salt, And After The Egg Is There Anything In The World Lovelier Than Fresh Warm Bread And A Mug Of Sweet Golden Tea?

I Am Not Living The American Dream; I Am Living The American Fantasy.

People Everywhere Brag And Whimper About The Woes Of Their Early Years, But Nothing Can Compare With The Irish Version: The Poverty; The Shiftless Loquacious Father; The Pious Defeated Mother Moaning By The Fire; Pompous Priests; Bullying School Masters; The English And The Terrible Things They Did To Us For Eight Hundred Long Years. Above All -- We Were Wet.

The Sky Is The Limit. You Never Have The Same Experience Twice.