Tales from the Classroom

According to the US National Education Association, 50% of teachers drop out of the profession within five years. That's a particular shame, since more and more of them have advanced education degrees that are, of course, suitable to education and to nothing else except resume-stuffing. From Sploid.

No matter how much tax money is thrown at U.S. public schools, teachers have been dropping out at the same rate for decades.

And while only half of America's public-school students are still white kids, teachers are still dominated by the same middle-aged women who have always been teachers – and 90% of them are white.

"The average public school teacher is a 43-year-old white, married, religious female," the Detroit Free Press reported today. "About 75% of public school teachers are female."

One thing that has changed for teachers is that they've got more university degrees than ever before: a full 50% of them now hold Master's Degrees.

And the kids they're turning loose on the world are real idiots. Few can read, write, do basic math or even find Iraq on a map, while their simpleton parents are increasingly afraid of science.

Teacher

And on that note, perhaps it's time for a few little tidbits picked up by one of raincoaster's operatives over the Pond in the UK school system. It's as convoluted and politicized as the Knights Templar, and about as open and accessible, so I don't really know the correct terminology for the school in which she works, except that it's paid for by the taxpayers, rather than by rich parents or corporations seeking to mold consumers when their brains are still young, and children go there to give them something to do while their parents are at work and to give the parents a sense of complacency about the way that they turn out.

Or is that too bleak?

In any case, as the raincoaster offshore operative was handing out papers in class one day, she overheard a 16-year-old girl saying to her friends, "but why would anyone want a butt plug with a tail on it???" to which one can, of course, only reply: why would one want one without?

And later that term, walking down the hallway, the r.o.o. passed a cluster of boys discussing something of obvious nefarity, for they clammed up as she passed. Once they thought she was safely out of hearing one turned to the other and picked up where they'd presumably left off.

"So should I shave my balls then?"

R.o.o. cried "Too much information, lads!" and they scattered as if pursued by the hounds of hell.

Hmmmmm. Perhaps we've discovered the source of those "married, religious" women's discomfort with the teaching profession.

Blog Post o’ the Day: The Court Interpreter

Another post I got from repeatedly hitting "Next Blog," which sounds like a dreadfully time-consuming way to find material, but generally pays off within five clicks. You'd be surprised and, if you're a sour old puss like me, heartened, to see how much talent and spirit there is out there.

A snippet from The Court Interpreter's story on the mild-mannered Mexican and the sinister tendencies of some who hold power over such men.

For a split second I felt powerful and the sensation quickly turned into something unpleasant and I enjoyed explaining to him that he didn’t owe me anything. He looked grateful, thanked me, and quietly walked away.

And then … you hear about stories like these…

Cafe Society…or is that “Barista Society?”

You just never know what glamorous star you'll run into at a MediaBistro party!

Gannon!!! OMFG!!! IT'S GANNON IN THE FLESH!!!

PSA: Ten Tips for Office Trysts

Bridget and the guysBecause if you work in a factory rather than an office, being known to sleep with the boss is a status enhancer. Or even the guy who delivers the diesel fuel, come to think of it.

But in the spirit of making ourselves of practical use here at the raincoaster blog, rather than just providing random titillation and eagle voyeurism, we present the New Zealand Herald's Ten rules to help you survive a sneaky affair at the office by Julie Fisher, about whom her coworkers are no doubt gossiping madly even as you read this.

Avoid the photocopier
Do not be tempted to do it on the photocopier. Not even in an ironic way. Canon last year confirmed that it has had to increase the thickness of its glass to cope with an alarming number of bottom-related breakages. A third of Canon technicians say they have had to mend machines that have been sat on. "It's so tempting, particularly if neither of you particularly likes the company you're working for," says Cox. "But not only will you probably break the thing, it's uncomfortable."

I once sat through a quarterly job evaluation that began when my boss brought up the topic of married men, and how normal it was that they had mistresses, and how glamorous that was for the "pampered, adored" mistress. There are times when you can't quite believe what you're hearing, and for raincoaster here this was one of those times. So she said, "well, I sure would make a crappy #2 girl," to which he replied, "Oh no, I think you would make an excellent #2."

Beat.

To which I replied, slowly, "I sure hope I'm going to get an 'Outstanding' on this review, Doug, because otherwise I'm going to go far and wide with my dissatisfaction with this rather unusual review."

Beat.

To which he replied, "Oh, I think you'll do very well for yourself at this company."

I got my Outstanding, too. And by god I earned it; the ability to blackmail a boss is a critical business skill in certain environments.

Operation Double-Double: The Bootcamp

Candidates are learning about land mines, hostage Operation Double-Double operative operatingsituations, nuclear and biological attacks and medicine in developing countries.

If chosen, they'll be offered a six-month contract in Afghanistan.

Helluva bootcamp program for a job slinging crullers and coffee.

In early March, Tim Hortons announced it would be opening a Kandahar branch of the popular coffee-and-doughnut chain. Canadian soldiers in Afghanistan had lobbied for the move for weeks…

The 2,300 Canadian soldiers around Kandahar can line up at the converted trailer for a familiar taste of home:  timbits, cookies and double-doubles.

The first Tim Hortons doughnut shop was opened by its namesake, hockey player Tim Horton, in Hamilton, Ont. in 1964.

Horton died in 1974. His partner, Ron Joyce, later sold the chain to U.S.-based fast food chain Wendy's International, which spun part of the company off in a share offering earlier this year.

And here is the original announcement of Operation Double-Double.

Go get 'em, eh?