Your Centurion or Mine?

I recently had the bewildering experience of teaching poetry at both ends of the human lifespan within the course of a few days. I helped out in my mom's fourth grade classroom for a morning, and the following Monday taught for an hour at Meadowood Retirement Community. The following are observations and comparisons.

Both the fourth graders and the retirees had good senses of humor, by which I mean potty humor. That put me at ease ... at first. Both groups were also pretty comfortable sharing ideas in a group setting, in which they differed from college students, who ordinarily take a couple of class periods to open up. Both also engaged in repeating each other's ideas extensively, as though they could share the approval that the original idea had garnered. Did they think I had forgotten that Tommy just said, "My little brother pees the bed and one time he got the dog," only moments ago?

The greatest lines of each exercise? From Meadowood (concerning mothers): Some blissfully hum / Others merely grunt like a ferocious goose / Twisting its wings as it sails. From 4th grade (concerning toenails): They were not made to eat.

The fourth graders moved constantly, and I was exhausted from always checking to make sure I wasn't about to step on one. The old folks didn't move their wheelchairs at all, and I was exhausted by my own efforts to speak loudly and clearly and be engaging and respectful all at once. At Meadowood, I was surprised to learn from an aide that one nice lady was a centurion. "Her chariot is smaller than I would have imagined," I remarked. "Centenarian," corrected the supervisor. She was born in 1902 - she'd seen everything worth seeing in the 20th century, and had gone right ahead living. There's a vote of confidence if I ever saw one.

Easily the most remarkable part of my visit was the commentary of Dr. Dean*. Regardless of the situation, when called upon to speak, Dr. Dean would announce, "Mothers should raise their children with practices of healthful living." I would nod and he would repeat the proclamation, each time with further conviction and irritation at my dunderheadedness. In trying to elaborate, he later announced, "Mothers should raise their children with practices of healthful living from infancy!" The next time: "Mothers and fathers should raise their children with practices of healthful living." He seemed genuinely pissed off, as though I had disagreed, leaving future generations to the dogs. After the session, I was informed that Dr. Dean had been a part of the team that instituted the practice of adding flouride to drinking water. More recently I was told that this practice is currently in question by the scientific community.

Great fun, all in all. From Meadowood I received a copy of our poem and a nice thank you card. From the 4th graders I received a detailed pencil sketch of a Harley-Davidson motorcycle with the inscription: "To my friend Chris, from John."

*Pseudonym