February 16: Bouncing Baby, Motivation, "Ives" Dip

My wife took my car to a garage to have its battery checked.  I was hoping for a diagnosis like, "Yeah, it was just a cold weekend, but your battery's fine."  That was my hope.  Unfortunately, the prognosis was pretty grim:  "You have zero reserve in the battery.  If you're not going to get a new one right now, you should park it in the garage every night."  I have no idea what that actually means, but I knew it wasn't good.

So, I am the proud honor of a brand new, bouncing baby battery.  I'm not happy about it, but it beats being stranded somewhere in the dead of winter with a car that sort of groans when you turn the key in the ignition.  It's one of those surprise necessary expenses.  Like a new water heater or toilet paper.  (Admit it, you've run out of toilet paper at least once in your life and had to substitute Kleenex or something even less delicate.)

Of course, that puts our household in a little bit of a pinch until next payday.  I can't remember the last time I haven't lived paycheck to paycheck.  I haven't really made the best life choices when it comes to jobs.  I've been part-timing for most of my life.  Part-time medical records clerk.  Part-time English professor.  Sometimes, because I've had so many jobs, I've felt like a part-time husband and part-time father.

Up until a couple days ago, I actually harbored the hope that the university was going to provide a mechanism for me to transition into a full-time teaching position.  That was the rumor surrounding the new contract negotiations.  However, it seems like the full-timers (translation:  tenured, elitist bullies) have another idea.  Their plan:  eliminate as many part-timers as possible and continue to treat those who are left like the red-headed, bastard stepchildren of academia.

Living a part-time life taxes my motivation and energy.  I live for the nights when I can just change into my pajamas, lock the front door, and pretend I'm making a difference in the world somehow.  Of course, I usually fall asleep before I get to the pretending part.  Like right now.  I just drifted off for a couple of minutes mid-sentence.

My Ives Dip question for tonight is this:

Will I ever get a full-time teaching job at the university?

And the answer from Oscar Hijuelos is:

Ives wanly smiled.  "I'm sending some magazines and books off to that boy Danny Gomez.  He's trying to learn how to read," Ives said matter-of-factly.  Pablo nodded and he then asked, "That's really nice, Mr. Ives, but why are you going out of your way for this fellow?"

Ives is a good guy.  Danny Gomez is the person who murdered Ives' son, and Ives is trying to help him better his life.  It's difficult to understand.  Maybe it's out of a sense of Christian charity.  Maybe Ives enjoys prolonging his sadness and grief by staying in contact with Robert's killer.  Or maybe, just maybe, it's about hope in the face of great struggle.


That's the answer Saint Marty's going with tonight:  hope for a better world.