Comments on: Trumpet Lessons http://robertgerardhunt.com/2009/10/09/trumpet-lessons/ Stories. Commentary. Endorphins. Updated every Friday. Mon, 26 Jul 2010 03:00:08 -0400 http://wordpress.org/?v=2.8.4 hourly 1 By: Christine Hunt Rodabaugh http://robertgerardhunt.com/2009/10/09/trumpet-lessons/comment-page-1/#comment-27 Christine Hunt Rodabaugh Sat, 24 Oct 2009 07:11:45 +0000 http://robertgerardhunt.com/?p=20#comment-27 This sure brings back memories of Mrs. Kudor my math tutor -no kidding, that was her real name, back in grade school. I was deplorable in math and was sent to her house on Grand Avenue to which I walked once a week from our house. I was deeply ashamed I even needed to go to a tutor. I had to pass the Equity Dairy and Jones' Market, filled with tantalizing arrays of penny candy to get there, but I, of course, was on a perpetual death march to old Mrs. Kudor's house instead. I swear she ate the same lousy meal every damn night I had a session with her -something sourkraut-like that filled the house with a nauseating, overpowering stench and made her belch repeatedly throughout the entire lesson all the while chewing on something that did nothing to remove the foul odor emanating from her fetid mouth directed strongly and relentlessly into my poor, sweet face. Her method of "teaching" consisted of banging a pencil over a math problem and demanding that I solve it, which I could almost never do. I don't recall ever getting any explanation as to how I was supposed to solve it, just glares, a raised voice and loud persistent belching, sucking and chewing sounds. God only knows how much Mom & Dad paid her, but every cent was too much. I don't remember how many weeks of this torture passed before she and they finally gave up on me, but I do remember it ended with Mrs. Kudor the tutor declaring that I was smart enough to do it, but just too lazy to make the effort. I spent years following that laboring under the slacker label ever present in the back of my mind and the tip of Mom's tongue. I'm sure it significantly contributed to my almost not graduating from college years later due to acute math phobia (still pretty much entrenched to this day) and very nearly flunking my last-chance math proficiency test requirement after decisively flunking it several times. Only real tutoring from my bros (and the fact that the proctoring professor finally added the 1/2 point I needed to pass based upon a partially correct answer paired with any and all correct calculations from all other answers) allowed me to ultimately pass it. Yeah, it's true -words really can break your bones (aka spirit)! Your loving sis, Chris (this is a re-write -never as good as what flows out the first time -as I unintentionally wiped out my original comment by failing to fill in my name and email address the first time (STILL not a good student). This sure brings back memories of Mrs. Kudor my math tutor -no kidding, that was her real name, back in grade school. I was deplorable in math and was sent to her house on Grand Avenue to which I walked once a week from our house. I was deeply ashamed I even needed to go to a tutor. I had to pass the Equity Dairy and Jones’ Market, filled with tantalizing arrays of penny candy to get there, but I, of course, was on a perpetual death march to old Mrs. Kudor’s house instead. I swear she ate the same lousy meal every damn night I had a session with her -something sourkraut-like that filled the house with a nauseating, overpowering stench and made her belch repeatedly throughout the entire lesson all the while chewing on something that did nothing to remove the foul odor emanating from her fetid mouth directed strongly and relentlessly into my poor, sweet face. Her method of “teaching” consisted of banging a pencil over a math problem and demanding that I solve it, which I could almost never do. I don’t recall ever getting any explanation as to how I was supposed to solve it, just glares, a raised voice and loud persistent belching, sucking and chewing sounds. God only knows how much Mom & Dad paid her, but every cent was too much. I don’t remember how many weeks of this torture passed before she and they finally gave up on me, but I do remember it ended with Mrs. Kudor the tutor declaring that I was smart enough to do it, but just too lazy to make the effort. I spent years following that laboring under the slacker label ever present in the back of my mind and the tip of Mom’s tongue. I’m sure it significantly contributed to my almost not graduating from college years later due to acute math phobia (still pretty much entrenched to this day) and very nearly flunking my last-chance math proficiency test requirement after decisively flunking it several times. Only real tutoring from my bros (and the fact that the proctoring professor finally added the 1/2 point I needed to pass based upon a partially correct answer paired with any and all correct calculations from all other answers) allowed me to ultimately pass it. Yeah, it’s true -words really can break your bones (aka spirit)!
Your loving sis,
Chris
(this is a re-write -never as good as what flows out the first time -as I unintentionally wiped out my original comment by failing to fill in my name and email address the first time (STILL not a good student).

]]> By: Robert Gerard Hunt http://robertgerardhunt.com/2009/10/09/trumpet-lessons/comment-page-1/#comment-17 Robert Gerard Hunt Sun, 11 Oct 2009 22:45:41 +0000 http://robertgerardhunt.com/?p=20#comment-17 Thanks, Eric! Thanks, Eric!

]]> By: Eric Mahaffey http://robertgerardhunt.com/2009/10/09/trumpet-lessons/comment-page-1/#comment-15 Eric Mahaffey Sun, 11 Oct 2009 22:31:27 +0000 http://robertgerardhunt.com/?p=20#comment-15 Hey great site, love the writing. Reminds of when my folks wanted me to play the clarinet. Thanks, Eric Mahaffey P.S. Check out Tony Yuse's site: www.broketeacher.com Hey great site, love the writing. Reminds of when my folks wanted me to play the clarinet.

Thanks,

Eric Mahaffey
P.S. Check out Tony Yuse’s site: http://www.broketeacher.com

]]> By: Robert Gerard Hunt http://robertgerardhunt.com/2009/10/09/trumpet-lessons/comment-page-1/#comment-16 Robert Gerard Hunt Sun, 11 Oct 2009 22:30:42 +0000 http://robertgerardhunt.com/?p=20#comment-16 Well, my loathing of those lessons was certainly apparent to them! Can't remember if I even mentioned Mr. Steffman's insensitive remark...he was always cordial to Mom and Dad, I'm sure, but I don't think anyone regarded him as the warm and fuzzy type. Well, my loathing of those lessons was certainly apparent to them! Can’t remember if I even mentioned Mr. Steffman’s insensitive remark…he was always cordial to Mom and Dad, I’m sure, but I don’t think anyone regarded him as the warm and fuzzy type.

]]> By: Alex Rodabaugh http://robertgerardhunt.com/2009/10/09/trumpet-lessons/comment-page-1/#comment-14 Alex Rodabaugh Sun, 11 Oct 2009 22:22:01 +0000 http://robertgerardhunt.com/?p=20#comment-14 Hahahaha. I find it most interesting that neither of my grandparents seemed to notice anything... Hahahaha. I find it most interesting that neither of my grandparents seemed to notice anything…

]]> By: Robert Gerard Hunt http://robertgerardhunt.com/2009/10/09/trumpet-lessons/comment-page-1/#comment-13 Robert Gerard Hunt Sun, 11 Oct 2009 02:00:34 +0000 http://robertgerardhunt.com/?p=20#comment-13 A wise sentiment, Tony, and one that is especially important for teachers to remember. The potential for learning that is fostered by a positive rapport can be destroyed in an instant with a few careless words said in frustration. A wise sentiment, Tony, and one that is especially important for teachers to remember. The potential for learning that is fostered by a positive rapport can be destroyed in an instant with a few careless words said in frustration.

]]> By: J.Anthony (Tony) Yuse http://robertgerardhunt.com/2009/10/09/trumpet-lessons/comment-page-1/#comment-12 J.Anthony (Tony) Yuse Sun, 11 Oct 2009 00:44:56 +0000 http://robertgerardhunt.com/?p=20#comment-12 Bob, Mr. Steffman reminds me of a teacher from the Nolte flick, Teachers. Do you remember the old man who would have the students file in, take a worksheet and then sit facing away from him to do their work? We never saw his face because of the shielding newspaper he was always reading. He died in that position (and with the paper still clutched in his white fingers) and the kids just kept coming and going at each bell. Perhaps old Mr. Steffman passed in the same fashion. Again, you've recreated a scene from your childhood with great detail. This snapshot really does disprove the "sticks and stones" rhyme eh? Words can crush us, even if it's only a sentence or two. Bob,

Mr. Steffman reminds me of a teacher from the Nolte flick, Teachers. Do you remember the old man who would have the students file in, take a worksheet and then sit facing away from him to do their work? We never saw his face because of the shielding newspaper he was always reading. He died in that position (and with the paper still clutched in his white fingers) and the kids just kept coming and going at each bell. Perhaps old Mr. Steffman passed in the same fashion. Again, you’ve recreated a scene from your childhood with great detail. This snapshot really does disprove the “sticks and stones” rhyme eh? Words can crush us, even if it’s only a sentence or two.

]]>