letters to my class

Dear Humans,

I was re-watching Karate Kid II the other day and it’s sort of famous for including scenes of a traditional Japanese tea ceremony. Hollywood cuts some corners and probably used it more as a plot device than to explore the true history and nature of the Japanese tea ceremony, but it was my first exposure to the idea of a tea ceremony as a kid.

I’m not much for tea, but I do drink coffee everyday (usually multiple times a day). And the other morning when I was preparing coffee I spilled hot water all over the place and burned my foot. I’ve made coffee thousands of times, but one time when I wasn’t paying attention I burned my foot.

There are many reasons for ceremony. But one thing ceremony does it make us pay attention to the mundane things we do everyday. And I can’t help but think if I had been a little more ceremonious—if I had been paying attention to my coffee making—I wouldn’t have burned my foot.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

When I was growing up and learning history I remember thinking of it as a march. The right things would and will eventually happen for everyone if they just waited long enough. Justice would prevail through consensus…eventually.

But as I read more and learn more, I see how wrong that point of view is. This year is the 100th anniversary of the ratification of the 19th Amendment, which gave women the right to vote. 100 years ago was 1920, a full 144 years after the American Revolution. And for all of those 144 years (and in the hundred years up to today), women were fighting to gain the right to vote and their rights to be full citizens.

But there was resistance because the people who had the power did not want to share it. But suffragists (the name for the women from all walks of life who fought for the vote) insisted. And they marched and they protested and they wrote letters. And they kept at it for 144 years and they still keep at it today.

And that’s the only way history ever changes.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

When people say you’re using a “band-aid solution,” they mean that you’re applying a solution that isn’t enough to fix the problem. But I’m here to say that putting band-aids on things works really, really well.

But it’s not because band-aids themselves fix anything. They might slow the bleeding. They might keep your owie from getting bumped. They may keep a little bit of dirt out of your wound. But they don’t do much to heal the wound.

But the truth is that many of the problems that we face are either unfixable or will fix themselves in time. But while we’re waiting for that to happen, it’s nice to have some acknowledgement, some empathy, and maybe a little bit of comfort. Slapping a band-aid on the problem does all of those things. And it works especially well when someone else–someone who cares for you–does it for you.

And then the healing can begin.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

It’s funny all of the gadgets I have in my kitchen. And a lot of them have numbers on them–scales, measuring cups, thermometers, timers. But the tools I use most when I’m cooking are my five senses.

I can’t always trust my senses. Sometimes it’s nice to stick a probe thermometer in a turkey to make sure I’m not going to give anyone Salmonella. And if I boiled eggs for anything besides Easter egg hunts I’d probably want a timer to make sure they’re done to my liking. But usually our senses are enough.

Cooking is all about transformation. And you can see that transformation in the changing color, smell it in the garlicky aroma, feel it in the changing texture under your wooden spoon, hear it in the sizzling, and taste it in the melding of the flavors.

We like to use tools because we sometimes believe that the most important information is hidden from our senses. And sometimes it is. But usually it’s right there in front of us. If we look, sniff, touch, listen, and taste.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

Sometimes during this pandemic I wake up super early and just lay there thinking about all the choices I have to make. We’ve always had them, but now these choices have more bearing on our health and safety.

I used to just go to the dentist when they told me it was time. But now I’m wondering if I should put it off or if there are other measures I should take to make it safer. I used to just go into a restaurant when I was hungry. But now I think about carrying out and which type of food travels best or is best eaten in the car.

These are pretty small-potato troubles, but deciding is exhausting. That’s why it’s helpful to put some personal limits on your decisions. For example, my family has decided that we will never go to the new Panda Express down the street. It’s nothing against Panda Express, and we still greatly enjoy ordering Chinese takeout from other places, but sometimes you just have to pare down your choices.

Plus, you can’t really eat orange chicken while you’re driving.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

I bought new socks at Walgreens yesterday. I’m not sure why. I guess because they were sitting in the middle of the aisle and they had a big sign extolling their cheapness. And because there’s nothing better than new socks.

But these were cheap socks. Thinner than toilet paper. And as I walked back to my car, I thought about all of the resources put in to making these socks–cotton grown in America and shipped to the Far East where factory workers put it through a series of complicated machines that eventually spit out some socks that are then shipped back to America and trucked across the country to my neighborhood Walgreens where a person in a blue vest rings them up for me. And all that happens just so I can have the brief pleasure of putting on new socks.

But the problem with putting on new socks is that you can only do it one time. After that first wear and wash, new socks are just like every other sad stocking in your top drawer. But the cost of producing them isn’t so easily forgotten.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

When I heard that Kraft was releasing a breakfast mac and cheese, I thought they were reformulating their recipe. Maybe they were going to add sausage crumbles or bacon pieces or work some scrambled egg in there. But no, they are just going to put the word breakfast on the box.

Meal rules are kind of funny. There are no laws stating what you can eat when. But as in most cases, custom is stronger than law. There was surely a good reason (or many good reasons) that humans started eating eggs, bacon, pancakes, and cereal for the first meal of the day. But why do we still do it?

I do enjoy breakfast for dinner every once in a while. But I don’t eat it every week like I eat tacos, pizza, or stir fry. But whenever I pour syrup on my pancakes while the sun is going down, I take a little pleasure in breaking the rules. I guess I’ll feel the same way when I’m chowing down on mac and cheese for breakfast.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

I used to not care much about Steely Dan. I didn’t hear them growing up and I always thought it was kind of dorky jazz rock. Plus, I heard a lot of cool people make fun of them, so I dismissed them. And yet, I kept seeing a small segment of music listeners who really, really loved Steely Dan.

If everyone seems to like something, then it might be good or it might be forgettable. In the mid-90s I bought a Deep Blue Something CD because everyone loved the song “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” but I stopped listening to that CD about 2 weeks after I bought it.

But if there’s something that a few people really, really like–I mean dedicate a large portion of their lives and beings to–then you can be pretty sure there’s something there. It doesn’t mean that you’ll end up liking it that much. But it does mean you should give it a second chance.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Spenders and Hoarders,

Have you heard of the coin shortage? When you pull up to the drive-thru at McDonald’s there’s a sign asking you to use a card or pay with exact change because they don’t have enough coins to make change. Because we’re running out of coins!

Well it’s been a weird time over the past few months. And it’s impacted every part of our lives, including coins. People aren’t spending them, businesses aren’t turning them into banks, banks aren’t returning them to customers. There’s been a small decrease in number of coins produced because the Mint has to follow social distancing guidelines too and has been slowed down because of it. But this is a circulation problem. This is about flow.

And it makes sense that this problem shows up in our money because money is all about circulation. Money moves quickly and easily and that’s what makes it a useful invention. It’s also nearly universal, meaning everyone accepts it.

In that sense, money is a lot like virus. It moves along the same pathways as viruses. And in taking steps to slow the spread of the cornoavirus, we’ve slowed the spread of everything that moves along those pathways. At least for a while.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

I was at a park the other and there were disc golf baskets dotting the park. Just a pole cemented into the ground holding up a wire basket and some wires that hang with chains. But those simple pieces of equipment completely changed how people acted on that expanse of Kentucky bluegrass.

The same thing happens when you put up a soccer goal in a field or a basketball hoop on a slab of concrete. People’s imaginations take over and they turn that simple place into an arena or stadium full of cheering fans.

Do you have any idea how many game-winning shots I made in my driveway over imaginary opponents? The human imagination is an infinite well; it just requires a little priming.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck