The theater doors swing open into the afternoon sunlight and there is immediate joy. Shouts and screams and laughter. Piggy back rides, high fives, and perhaps a few dance moves. This all lasts for a few long minutes until everyone starts to say good-bye, knowing they won't see their friends too often over the summer. There is too much to do. There are camps and vacations. Competitions and classes. Malls and movies. And best of all...
No teachers.
I've become accustomed to the summer let-down, going from Mr. Wymer, who everyone wants to talk to, to Scruffy Guy in T-Shirt and Sandals, who no one knows. Teaching is a unique profession. You spend nine months professing, convincing, enlightening, invigorating, encouraging, and, best of all, laughing. And then summer comes. Students leave, and so do you. Before you know it, you're suddenly surrounded by yourself, with no one wanting your attention or begging to show you their new pink braces.
Mornings are spent looking out the window. Afternoons are spent trying to remember whether you brushed your teeth or not. Evenings are full of dinners you've prepared for your family. Nights are for telling off the last chapter you wrote.
Summer.
In September, it's miles away.
In May, you can see the yellow tape.
In June, you're collapsing at the finish line.
Summer.
T-Shirt and Sandals, here I come!
. It's good. You should read it. Okay, that's all. 
and his newest work, and a companion to The Wednesday Wars, 
. I had a free period during the webcast (10 AM, PT) so I watched it while sitting at my desk. The audio was clear but the picture quality was just okay. There was, however, a little on-screen entry box to type questions. And you know what? The moderator chose MY question. It was pretty cool when she said my name and then read the question and then Gary Schmidt said, "That's an interesting question." 
. 
