November 19: The Judges' Booth, Being Observed, Nerves

"Attention please!" [the voice on the loud speaker] said.  "Will Mr. Homer Zuckerman bring his famous pig to the judges' booth in front of the grandstand.  A special award will be made there in twenty minutes.  Everyone is invited to attend.  Crate your pig, please, Mr. Zuckerman, and report to the judges' booth promptly!"

That announcement begins Wilbur's hour of triumph.  His fifteen minutes of fame that will save his life.  Charlotte's trick has worked, and Wilbur is no longer in danger of being turned into Christmas dinner.  Of course, Wilbur did lose the initial judging.  Uncle, the pig in the pen beside him, has won the blue ribbon.  So, the moment is a mixture of defeat and victory.


I hate being judged about anything.  My job performance.  My writing.  My piano playing.  It's not a pleasant thing to feel as though my every move is under scrutiny.  Unfortunately, in the work world and academic world, judgement is an inherent part of the whole process.

Tonight, I'm being observed by another English Department faculty member.  He's a really nice guy, and he's stopped by my office a couple of times to assure me that this is not going to be a stressful experience.  In fact, in our first conversation, he said, "I could write your evaluation right now, but I guess we should go through with the formalities."

I am, however, very nervous.  I will be breathing easier in about an hour-and-a-half.  That's when the movie will start, the observation will be over, and I will be able to sit back and relax a little bit.  Until then, I'm in survival mode.  I have to perform well, not look nervous, and present an engaging lesson.  No problem.

Excuse Saint Marty now.  He has to go to the restroom and throw up.

Not sure if I'm the pot or the kettle