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#1
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OT - STORY: I heart Physics Teachers
As I said, I love physics teachers. They are so analytical and don't let emotions factor into any situation. I'd have to become an axe murderer if I had one for a husband, but having a physics teacher for a friend is a very good thing, indeed. As I mentioned in my quick wave of the hand post, my beloved daughter is driving. Now, if you have a child who is not yet old enough to drive, do not think that you will casually accept this rite of passage, even if you accepted everything prior to that calmly, with only thoughts of pride that your child was growing up so well. Driving a motor vehicle is a whole 'nother thing. Whether you want to know or not, articles about teen drivers coming to a bad end are suddenly thrust before your eyes. A "kind" friend shares that old Dear Abby article about a dead teen called "Please God, I'm only Seventeen." Your auto insurance broker doesn't cause you to fear for your kid's safety - unless she gets a parking ticket (you don't let yourself think of anything worse), which will raise your already scary insurance rates so high that you'll need to cash in your 401K plan just to pay the premiums. Letting your kid leave the house for that first time is hard, no make that horrible: horrible for the stomach, the clenched teeth and the way that you and your spouse are holding hands so tightly that bones break. The cell phone becomes a truly blessed invention those first few weeks as your kid calls to let you know that everything's fine, and they made it to school safely. One morning the telephone didn't ring on time. I decided that she forgot to call, just as she forgets everything else. I went and got myself an additional Diet Coke and tried to convince myself that simple forgetfulness was the reason. Then the phone rings. Before you have a chance to hope it is a telemarketer, the caller ID pops up with the kid's name and number. A tear filled voice tears at your heart. "Mama?" she said, "It's me." (Like I thought it would be anyone else) "Everyone is all right, but I had an accident," she said in that quick rush of words that precedes a child bursting into tears, whether they are three or thirty. "Nobody got hurt, but my car is all messed up and the man is being really mean to me." I found out where she was calling from (a half mile away, within spitting distance of the school), and told her that "Daddy will be right there." Cursing myself because I can no longer drive, Imade my way down the hall to wake up Bob. "Honey," I said, in a voice that was as quiet and trembly as Manda's had been, "Nobody's hurt --" I paused momentarily to gawk. I had never seen anyone hover in the air before. Bob had gone from deep sleep to hove in the space of three words. I continued to tell him what happened, and before Bob hit the ground, he was dressed. As I shouted Manda's location, Bob ran down the hall, putting on shoes and grabbing car keys at the same time. Before I had finished the sentence, the truck was squealing out of the driveway. I got to wait, stuck with that horrible feeling that means "I think I'm going to throw up from anxiety, but all I have in my system is Diet Coke." Somehow, the next fifteen minutes took three hours to go by. Bob came home, rubbing his eyes in the gesture that means he could feel grey hairs sprouting at that moment. He told me that the other guy was standing over Manda, who was sitting on the curb, crying. As he jumped out of the car, he could hear the guy cursing Manda, and telling her that he was going to sue. His shouting drained away almost instantly as he saw Bob coming toward them, and Manda running to her Daddy. The fellow was much more polite to Bob than he had been to Manda, especially when Bob got into his personal space and asked him why he had thought shouting at Manda was a good idea. The other guy squeaked that his son just got his license, had had two accidents and drove like a bat outta hell. He was just trying to help a fellow parent. Bob told him that he didn't need any help, in that quiet voice that sounds like a rumble coming from your feet. (I taught that rumble to Bob, but it works better for him than it ever did for me) They exchanged insurance information, Bob made Manda "get back on the horse," and drive herself to school, then he came home to me. I spent the rest of the morning taking care of things with the insurance company. I was so emotionally wiped at the thoughts of what could have been - a deadly crash in the dark of night, instead of a two mile an hour fender bender in front of the post office. I fell asleep at my desk, and didn't know it until Manda was gently shaking me awake. We spent the next hour or two talking about the accident from every possible angle, because Manda insisted that the fellow made an illegal turn in front of her, and the man insisted that he was driving along lawfully while Manda sped out of a side street, ignored the stop signs, and deliberately rammed the side of his brand new truck. I thought the truth was somewhere in the middle, and with everything being equal, they were going to find the new driver responsible for the accident. I told Manda, who was indignant at the thought. I didn't say anything at the time, but indignant wasn't what I was feeling at the thought of those increased premums for six (!) years. Then Manda pulled out a map-looking thing out of her backpack. It was the map section of an accident report, blown up to full page size. Manda told me what was going on between bites of pot roast. (and this is why this story is named what it is) When Manda went to school the morning of the accident, she was late by a half hour. The attendance officer didn't require a note, because she could see the accident from her office window, although she didn't know who had been involved. Manda got a late pass to admit her to physics. When she got there, Manda's teacher asked what had happened. When she mentioned "car accident," the teacher had seen it, along with half the class or more. knowing that the kids would want to talk about this to the exclusion of everything else, the teacher suddenly changed his lesson for the day to rapid deceleration. (stopping) The assigned homework was to take the two stories, and along with the cell phone photos of both cars' damage, to map out exactly what happened, and who was at fault. I wished I had this guy when I took physics, back in the stone ages. Manda, of course, simply filled out her map the same way that she had filled out the real accident report. She had been excused from making judgements about who was at fault. During the evening, she fielded many phone calls from her friends, who wanted to know specific angles and so forth. (Did I mention that her friends are all boys, and all are in AP Physics with Manda?) The next morning, the kids gave their presentations. Most of them were close, but only the teacher had everything right. He showed the kids how the only way the accident could have happened is if the driver of the SUV made an illegal turn in front of the old Buick. (yay!) Manda was given a copy of the report to turn in to the insurance company. About a week later, I got a call from a woman at the insurance company, asking what the heck was the paper stuck in with the claim. I explained, and she laughed. It wouldn't be admissable, of course, because only the claim adjuster could make the decision as to fault in the accident. But, as I predicted, it was likely to be determined that the new driver (Manda) would be at fault. We're still waiting to hear, and if we have to, we'll appeal any unfavorable decision. But it was a great thing for this guy to make a dry subject into a real life solution, and extremely thoughtful of him to help Manda get a fair shake. And yes, I sent notes along to the principal and superintendent of schools. (They must be waiting with bated breath for Manda to graduate. Whenever they say anythng about parental input, the kids all turn and say, "Hey Manda, your mother's been calling the school again." I'm offended. I have NOT called the school in over a year. Cheers, and now you can't say you haven't heard a story in forever and a day. Kathy N-V (who still remembers how to make a good heading) |
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#2
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OT - STORY: I heart Physics Teachers
Cool story, Kathy.
Were no police called? Most places they have to be if property damage exceeds a certain amount, and it's hard to put more than a hail ding in a new car without hitting that threshold. In my world, the cops and courts determine fault, not claims adjusters. If they pay no heed to the physics report, give'm hell! Val "Kathy N-V" wrote in message mcast.net... As I said, I love physics teachers. They are so analytical and don't let emotions factor into any situation. I'd have to become an axe murderer if I had one for a husband, but having a physics teacher for a friend is a very good thing, indeed. |
#3
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OT - STORY: I heart Physics Teachers
WOW! I wish I had that teacher when I was in school! I had to get a
private tutor for my physics class cause the professor couldn't quite come down to our level of understanding. This guy sounds like a really good teacher. You should feel lucky to have him in your school system. I hope your insurance adjuster understands that what Manda gave him is a definite out to the liability for this accident and force the other guy's insurance carrier to foot the repair bills. Just because she is a new driver does not mean she caused the accident. That's just profiling to the extreme. Please keep us posted....... I'd love to hear the ending of this story. I'm rootin' for Manda!! You go gurl!!! Sterling "Kathy N-V" wrote in message mcast.net... As I said, I love physics teachers. They are so analytical and don't let emotions factor into any situation. I'd have to become an axe murderer if I had one for a husband, but having a physics teacher for a friend is a very good thing, indeed. As I mentioned in my quick wave of the hand post, my beloved daughter is driving. Now, if you have a child who is not yet old enough to drive, do not think that you will casually accept this rite of passage, even if you accepted everything prior to that calmly, with only thoughts of pride that your child was growing up so well. Driving a motor vehicle is a whole 'nother thing. Whether you want to know or not, articles about teen drivers coming to a bad end are suddenly thrust before your eyes. A "kind" friend shares that old Dear Abby article about a dead teen called "Please God, I'm only Seventeen." Your auto insurance broker doesn't cause you to fear for your kid's safety - unless she gets a parking ticket (you don't let yourself think of anything worse), which will raise your already scary insurance rates so high that you'll need to cash in your 401K plan just to pay the premiums. Letting your kid leave the house for that first time is hard, no make that horrible: horrible for the stomach, the clenched teeth and the way that you and your spouse are holding hands so tightly that bones break. The cell phone becomes a truly blessed invention those first few weeks as your kid calls to let you know that everything's fine, and they made it to school safely. One morning the telephone didn't ring on time. I decided that she forgot to call, just as she forgets everything else. I went and got myself an additional Diet Coke and tried to convince myself that simple forgetfulness was the reason. Then the phone rings. Before you have a chance to hope it is a telemarketer, the caller ID pops up with the kid's name and number. A tear filled voice tears at your heart. "Mama?" she said, "It's me." (Like I thought it would be anyone else) "Everyone is all right, but I had an accident," she said in that quick rush of words that precedes a child bursting into tears, whether they are three or thirty. "Nobody got hurt, but my car is all messed up and the man is being really mean to me." I found out where she was calling from (a half mile away, within spitting distance of the school), and told her that "Daddy will be right there." Cursing myself because I can no longer drive, Imade my way down the hall to wake up Bob. "Honey," I said, in a voice that was as quiet and trembly as Manda's had been, "Nobody's hurt --" I paused momentarily to gawk. I had never seen anyone hover in the air before. Bob had gone from deep sleep to hove in the space of three words. I continued to tell him what happened, and before Bob hit the ground, he was dressed. As I shouted Manda's location, Bob ran down the hall, putting on shoes and grabbing car keys at the same time. Before I had finished the sentence, the truck was squealing out of the driveway. I got to wait, stuck with that horrible feeling that means "I think I'm going to throw up from anxiety, but all I have in my system is Diet Coke." Somehow, the next fifteen minutes took three hours to go by. Bob came home, rubbing his eyes in the gesture that means he could feel grey hairs sprouting at that moment. He told me that the other guy was standing over Manda, who was sitting on the curb, crying. As he jumped out of the car, he could hear the guy cursing Manda, and telling her that he was going to sue. His shouting drained away almost instantly as he saw Bob coming toward them, and Manda running to her Daddy. The fellow was much more polite to Bob than he had been to Manda, especially when Bob got into his personal space and asked him why he had thought shouting at Manda was a good idea. The other guy squeaked that his son just got his license, had had two accidents and drove like a bat outta hell. He was just trying to help a fellow parent. Bob told him that he didn't need any help, in that quiet voice that sounds like a rumble coming from your feet. (I taught that rumble to Bob, but it works better for him than it ever did for me) They exchanged insurance information, Bob made Manda "get back on the horse," and drive herself to school, then he came home to me. I spent the rest of the morning taking care of things with the insurance company. I was so emotionally wiped at the thoughts of what could have been - a deadly crash in the dark of night, instead of a two mile an hour fender bender in front of the post office. I fell asleep at my desk, and didn't know it until Manda was gently shaking me awake. We spent the next hour or two talking about the accident from every possible angle, because Manda insisted that the fellow made an illegal turn in front of her, and the man insisted that he was driving along lawfully while Manda sped out of a side street, ignored the stop signs, and deliberately rammed the side of his brand new truck. I thought the truth was somewhere in the middle, and with everything being equal, they were going to find the new driver responsible for the accident. I told Manda, who was indignant at the thought. I didn't say anything at the time, but indignant wasn't what I was feeling at the thought of those increased premums for six (!) years. Then Manda pulled out a map-looking thing out of her backpack. It was the map section of an accident report, blown up to full page size. Manda told me what was going on between bites of pot roast. (and this is why this story is named what it is) When Manda went to school the morning of the accident, she was late by a half hour. The attendance officer didn't require a note, because she could see the accident from her office window, although she didn't know who had been involved. Manda got a late pass to admit her to physics. When she got there, Manda's teacher asked what had happened. When she mentioned "car accident," the teacher had seen it, along with half the class or more. knowing that the kids would want to talk about this to the exclusion of everything else, the teacher suddenly changed his lesson for the day to rapid deceleration. (stopping) The assigned homework was to take the two stories, and along with the cell phone photos of both cars' damage, to map out exactly what happened, and who was at fault. I wished I had this guy when I took physics, back in the stone ages. Manda, of course, simply filled out her map the same way that she had filled out the real accident report. She had been excused from making judgements about who was at fault. During the evening, she fielded many phone calls from her friends, who wanted to know specific angles and so forth. (Did I mention that her friends are all boys, and all are in AP Physics with Manda?) The next morning, the kids gave their presentations. Most of them were close, but only the teacher had everything right. He showed the kids how the only way the accident could have happened is if the driver of the SUV made an illegal turn in front of the old Buick. (yay!) Manda was given a copy of the report to turn in to the insurance company. About a week later, I got a call from a woman at the insurance company, asking what the heck was the paper stuck in with the claim. I explained, and she laughed. It wouldn't be admissable, of course, because only the claim adjuster could make the decision as to fault in the accident. But, as I predicted, it was likely to be determined that the new driver (Manda) would be at fault. We're still waiting to hear, and if we have to, we'll appeal any unfavorable decision. But it was a great thing for this guy to make a dry subject into a real life solution, and extremely thoughtful of him to help Manda get a fair shake. And yes, I sent notes along to the principal and superintendent of schools. (They must be waiting with bated breath for Manda to graduate. Whenever they say anythng about parental input, the kids all turn and say, "Hey Manda, your mother's been calling the school again." I'm offended. I have NOT called the school in over a year. Cheers, and now you can't say you haven't heard a story in forever and a day. Kathy N-V (who still remembers how to make a good heading) |
#4
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OT - STORY: I heart Physics Teachers
Great story! And it's great to see you back, Kathy. The old newsgroup hasn't
been the same without you. Georgia "Kathy N-V" wrote in message mcast.net... As I said, I love physics teachers. They are so analytical and don't let emotions factor into any situation. I'd have to become an axe murderer if I had one for a husband, but having a physics teacher for a friend is a very good thing, indeed. As I mentioned in my quick wave of the hand post, my beloved daughter is driving. Now, if you have a child who is not yet old enough to drive, do not think that you will casually accept this rite of passage, even if you accepted everything prior to that calmly, with only thoughts of pride that your child was growing up so well. Driving a motor vehicle is a whole 'nother thing. Whether you want to know or not, articles about teen drivers coming to a bad end are suddenly thrust before your eyes. A "kind" friend shares that old Dear Abby article about a dead teen called "Please God, I'm only Seventeen." Your auto insurance broker doesn't cause you to fear for your kid's safety - unless she gets a parking ticket (you don't let yourself think of anything worse), which will raise your already scary insurance rates so high that you'll need to cash in your 401K plan just to pay the premiums. Letting your kid leave the house for that first time is hard, no make that horrible: horrible for the stomach, the clenched teeth and the way that you and your spouse are holding hands so tightly that bones break. The cell phone becomes a truly blessed invention those first few weeks as your kid calls to let you know that everything's fine, and they made it to school safely. One morning the telephone didn't ring on time. I decided that she forgot to call, just as she forgets everything else. I went and got myself an additional Diet Coke and tried to convince myself that simple forgetfulness was the reason. Then the phone rings. Before you have a chance to hope it is a telemarketer, the caller ID pops up with the kid's name and number. A tear filled voice tears at your heart. "Mama?" she said, "It's me." (Like I thought it would be anyone else) "Everyone is all right, but I had an accident," she said in that quick rush of words that precedes a child bursting into tears, whether they are three or thirty. "Nobody got hurt, but my car is all messed up and the man is being really mean to me." I found out where she was calling from (a half mile away, within spitting distance of the school), and told her that "Daddy will be right there." Cursing myself because I can no longer drive, Imade my way down the hall to wake up Bob. "Honey," I said, in a voice that was as quiet and trembly as Manda's had been, "Nobody's hurt --" I paused momentarily to gawk. I had never seen anyone hover in the air before. Bob had gone from deep sleep to hove in the space of three words. I continued to tell him what happened, and before Bob hit the ground, he was dressed. As I shouted Manda's location, Bob ran down the hall, putting on shoes and grabbing car keys at the same time. Before I had finished the sentence, the truck was squealing out of the driveway. I got to wait, stuck with that horrible feeling that means "I think I'm going to throw up from anxiety, but all I have in my system is Diet Coke." Somehow, the next fifteen minutes took three hours to go by. Bob came home, rubbing his eyes in the gesture that means he could feel grey hairs sprouting at that moment. He told me that the other guy was standing over Manda, who was sitting on the curb, crying. As he jumped out of the car, he could hear the guy cursing Manda, and telling her that he was going to sue. His shouting drained away almost instantly as he saw Bob coming toward them, and Manda running to her Daddy. The fellow was much more polite to Bob than he had been to Manda, especially when Bob got into his personal space and asked him why he had thought shouting at Manda was a good idea. The other guy squeaked that his son just got his license, had had two accidents and drove like a bat outta hell. He was just trying to help a fellow parent. Bob told him that he didn't need any help, in that quiet voice that sounds like a rumble coming from your feet. (I taught that rumble to Bob, but it works better for him than it ever did for me) They exchanged insurance information, Bob made Manda "get back on the horse," and drive herself to school, then he came home to me. I spent the rest of the morning taking care of things with the insurance company. I was so emotionally wiped at the thoughts of what could have been - a deadly crash in the dark of night, instead of a two mile an hour fender bender in front of the post office. I fell asleep at my desk, and didn't know it until Manda was gently shaking me awake. We spent the next hour or two talking about the accident from every possible angle, because Manda insisted that the fellow made an illegal turn in front of her, and the man insisted that he was driving along lawfully while Manda sped out of a side street, ignored the stop signs, and deliberately rammed the side of his brand new truck. I thought the truth was somewhere in the middle, and with everything being equal, they were going to find the new driver responsible for the accident. I told Manda, who was indignant at the thought. I didn't say anything at the time, but indignant wasn't what I was feeling at the thought of those increased premums for six (!) years. Then Manda pulled out a map-looking thing out of her backpack. It was the map section of an accident report, blown up to full page size. Manda told me what was going on between bites of pot roast. (and this is why this story is named what it is) When Manda went to school the morning of the accident, she was late by a half hour. The attendance officer didn't require a note, because she could see the accident from her office window, although she didn't know who had been involved. Manda got a late pass to admit her to physics. When she got there, Manda's teacher asked what had happened. When she mentioned "car accident," the teacher had seen it, along with half the class or more. knowing that the kids would want to talk about this to the exclusion of everything else, the teacher suddenly changed his lesson for the day to rapid deceleration. (stopping) The assigned homework was to take the two stories, and along with the cell phone photos of both cars' damage, to map out exactly what happened, and who was at fault. I wished I had this guy when I took physics, back in the stone ages. Manda, of course, simply filled out her map the same way that she had filled out the real accident report. She had been excused from making judgements about who was at fault. During the evening, she fielded many phone calls from her friends, who wanted to know specific angles and so forth. (Did I mention that her friends are all boys, and all are in AP Physics with Manda?) The next morning, the kids gave their presentations. Most of them were close, but only the teacher had everything right. He showed the kids how the only way the accident could have happened is if the driver of the SUV made an illegal turn in front of the old Buick. (yay!) Manda was given a copy of the report to turn in to the insurance company. About a week later, I got a call from a woman at the insurance company, asking what the heck was the paper stuck in with the claim. I explained, and she laughed. It wouldn't be admissable, of course, because only the claim adjuster could make the decision as to fault in the accident. But, as I predicted, it was likely to be determined that the new driver (Manda) would be at fault. We're still waiting to hear, and if we have to, we'll appeal any unfavorable decision. But it was a great thing for this guy to make a dry subject into a real life solution, and extremely thoughtful of him to help Manda get a fair shake. And yes, I sent notes along to the principal and superintendent of schools. (They must be waiting with bated breath for Manda to graduate. Whenever they say anythng about parental input, the kids all turn and say, "Hey Manda, your mother's been calling the school again." I'm offended. I have NOT called the school in over a year. Cheers, and now you can't say you haven't heard a story in forever and a day. Kathy N-V (who still remembers how to make a good heading) |
#5
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OT - STORY: I heart Physics Teachers
Sympathies -
Mike's truck was totalled about 10 days before Christmas.... I got "THE CALL" at about 815 (he leaves for work before I do ....) (Like Bob - I was out of bed and nearly dressed before I had the location of the accident in my left ear....) Luckily - he was uninjured - the other driver/passenger had minor injuries - but both vehicles were totalled.... Sigh Now he is driving a $700 "beater" Ford Ranger.... and saving his money toward a downpayment new vehicle (maybe in the spring) because he only broke even on paying off the loan on the one he lost. Cheryl Kathy N-V wrote: As I said, I love physics teachers. They are so analytical and don't let emotions factor into any situation. I'd have to become an axe murderer if I had one for a husband, but having a physics teacher for a friend is a very good thing, indeed. As I mentioned in my quick wave of the hand post, my beloved daughter is driving. Now, if you have a child who is not yet old enough to drive, do not think that you will casually accept this rite of passage, even if you accepted everything prior to that calmly, with only thoughts of pride that your child was growing up so well. Driving a motor vehicle is a whole 'nother thing. Whether you want to know or not, articles about teen drivers coming to a bad end are suddenly thrust before your eyes. A "kind" friend shares that old Dear Abby article about a dead teen called "Please God, I'm only Seventeen." Your auto insurance broker doesn't cause you to fear for your kid's safety - unless she gets a parking ticket (you don't let yourself think of anything worse), which will raise your already scary insurance rates so high that you'll need to cash in your 401K plan just to pay the premiums. Letting your kid leave the house for that first time is hard, no make that horrible: horrible for the stomach, the clenched teeth and the way that you and your spouse are holding hands so tightly that bones break. The cell phone becomes a truly blessed invention those first few weeks as your kid calls to let you know that everything's fine, and they made it to school safely. One morning the telephone didn't ring on time. I decided that she forgot to call, just as she forgets everything else. I went and got myself an additional Diet Coke and tried to convince myself that simple forgetfulness was the reason. Then the phone rings. Before you have a chance to hope it is a telemarketer, the caller ID pops up with the kid's name and number. A tear filled voice tears at your heart. "Mama?" she said, "It's me." (Like I thought it would be anyone else) "Everyone is all right, but I had an accident," she said in that quick rush of words that precedes a child bursting into tears, whether they are three or thirty. "Nobody got hurt, but my car is all messed up and the man is being really mean to me." I found out where she was calling from (a half mile away, within spitting distance of the school), and told her that "Daddy will be right there." Cursing myself because I can no longer drive, Imade my way down the hall to wake up Bob. "Honey," I said, in a voice that was as quiet and trembly as Manda's had been, "Nobody's hurt --" I paused momentarily to gawk. I had never seen anyone hover in the air before. Bob had gone from deep sleep to hove in the space of three words. I continued to tell him what happened, and before Bob hit the ground, he was dressed. As I shouted Manda's location, Bob ran down the hall, putting on shoes and grabbing car keys at the same time. Before I had finished the sentence, the truck was squealing out of the driveway. I got to wait, stuck with that horrible feeling that means "I think I'm going to throw up from anxiety, but all I have in my system is Diet Coke." Somehow, the next fifteen minutes took three hours to go by. Bob came home, rubbing his eyes in the gesture that means he could feel grey hairs sprouting at that moment. He told me that the other guy was standing over Manda, who was sitting on the curb, crying. As he jumped out of the car, he could hear the guy cursing Manda, and telling her that he was going to sue. His shouting drained away almost instantly as he saw Bob coming toward them, and Manda running to her Daddy. The fellow was much more polite to Bob than he had been to Manda, especially when Bob got into his personal space and asked him why he had thought shouting at Manda was a good idea. The other guy squeaked that his son just got his license, had had two accidents and drove like a bat outta hell. He was just trying to help a fellow parent. Bob told him that he didn't need any help, in that quiet voice that sounds like a rumble coming from your feet. (I taught that rumble to Bob, but it works better for him than it ever did for me) They exchanged insurance information, Bob made Manda "get back on the horse," and drive herself to school, then he came home to me. I spent the rest of the morning taking care of things with the insurance company. I was so emotionally wiped at the thoughts of what could have been - a deadly crash in the dark of night, instead of a two mile an hour fender bender in front of the post office. I fell asleep at my desk, and didn't know it until Manda was gently shaking me awake. We spent the next hour or two talking about the accident from every possible angle, because Manda insisted that the fellow made an illegal turn in front of her, and the man insisted that he was driving along lawfully while Manda sped out of a side street, ignored the stop signs, and deliberately rammed the side of his brand new truck. I thought the truth was somewhere in the middle, and with everything being equal, they were going to find the new driver responsible for the accident. I told Manda, who was indignant at the thought. I didn't say anything at the time, but indignant wasn't what I was feeling at the thought of those increased premums for six (!) years. Then Manda pulled out a map-looking thing out of her backpack. It was the map section of an accident report, blown up to full page size. Manda told me what was going on between bites of pot roast. (and this is why this story is named what it is) When Manda went to school the morning of the accident, she was late by a half hour. The attendance officer didn't require a note, because she could see the accident from her office window, although she didn't know who had been involved. Manda got a late pass to admit her to physics. When she got there, Manda's teacher asked what had happened. When she mentioned "car accident," the teacher had seen it, along with half the class or more. knowing that the kids would want to talk about this to the exclusion of everything else, the teacher suddenly changed his lesson for the day to rapid deceleration. (stopping) The assigned homework was to take the two stories, and along with the cell phone photos of both cars' damage, to map out exactly what happened, and who was at fault. I wished I had this guy when I took physics, back in the stone ages. Manda, of course, simply filled out her map the same way that she had filled out the real accident report. She had been excused from making judgements about who was at fault. During the evening, she fielded many phone calls from her friends, who wanted to know specific angles and so forth. (Did I mention that her friends are all boys, and all are in AP Physics with Manda?) The next morning, the kids gave their presentations. Most of them were close, but only the teacher had everything right. He showed the kids how the only way the accident could have happened is if the driver of the SUV made an illegal turn in front of the old Buick. (yay!) Manda was given a copy of the report to turn in to the insurance company. About a week later, I got a call from a woman at the insurance company, asking what the heck was the paper stuck in with the claim. I explained, and she laughed. It wouldn't be admissable, of course, because only the claim adjuster could make the decision as to fault in the accident. But, as I predicted, it was likely to be determined that the new driver (Manda) would be at fault. We're still waiting to hear, and if we have to, we'll appeal any unfavorable decision. But it was a great thing for this guy to make a dry subject into a real life solution, and extremely thoughtful of him to help Manda get a fair shake. And yes, I sent notes along to the principal and superintendent of schools. (They must be waiting with bated breath for Manda to graduate. Whenever they say anythng about parental input, the kids all turn and say, "Hey Manda, your mother's been calling the school again." I'm offended. I have NOT called the school in over a year. Cheers, and now you can't say you haven't heard a story in forever and a day. Kathy N-V (who still remembers how to make a good heading) |
#6
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OT - STORY: I heart Physics Teachers
and I love your stories. Thanks very much for this one, and its SO GOOD to
see you here again. You've been sorely missed. -- Sarajane's Polyclay Gallery Beads-Dolls-Wearable Art http://www.polyclay.com See the progress at "Pieces" http://www.polyclay.com/store.htm "Kathy N-V" wrote in message mcast.net... As I said, I love physics teachers. They are so analytical and don't let emotions factor into any situation. I'd have to become an axe murderer if I had one for a husband, but having a physics teacher for a friend is a very good thing, indeed. As I mentioned in my quick wave of the hand post, my beloved daughter is driving. Now, if you have a child who is not yet old enough to drive, do not think that you will casually accept this rite of passage, even if you accepted everything prior to that calmly, with only thoughts of pride that your child was growing up so well. Driving a motor vehicle is a whole 'nother thing. Whether you want to know or not, articles about teen drivers coming to a bad end are suddenly thrust before your eyes. A "kind" friend shares that old Dear Abby article about a dead teen called "Please God, I'm only Seventeen." Your auto insurance broker doesn't cause you to fear for your kid's safety - unless she gets a parking ticket (you don't let yourself think of anything worse), which will raise your already scary insurance rates so high that you'll need to cash in your 401K plan just to pay the premiums. Letting your kid leave the house for that first time is hard, no make that horrible: horrible for the stomach, the clenched teeth and the way that you and your spouse are holding hands so tightly that bones break. The cell phone becomes a truly blessed invention those first few weeks as your kid calls to let you know that everything's fine, and they made it to school safely. One morning the telephone didn't ring on time. I decided that she forgot to call, just as she forgets everything else. I went and got myself an additional Diet Coke and tried to convince myself that simple forgetfulness was the reason. Then the phone rings. Before you have a chance to hope it is a telemarketer, the caller ID pops up with the kid's name and number. A tear filled voice tears at your heart. "Mama?" she said, "It's me." (Like I thought it would be anyone else) "Everyone is all right, but I had an accident," she said in that quick rush of words that precedes a child bursting into tears, whether they are three or thirty. "Nobody got hurt, but my car is all messed up and the man is being really mean to me." I found out where she was calling from (a half mile away, within spitting distance of the school), and told her that "Daddy will be right there." Cursing myself because I can no longer drive, Imade my way down the hall to wake up Bob. "Honey," I said, in a voice that was as quiet and trembly as Manda's had been, "Nobody's hurt --" I paused momentarily to gawk. I had never seen anyone hover in the air before. Bob had gone from deep sleep to hove in the space of three words. I continued to tell him what happened, and before Bob hit the ground, he was dressed. As I shouted Manda's location, Bob ran down the hall, putting on shoes and grabbing car keys at the same time. Before I had finished the sentence, the truck was squealing out of the driveway. I got to wait, stuck with that horrible feeling that means "I think I'm going to throw up from anxiety, but all I have in my system is Diet Coke." Somehow, the next fifteen minutes took three hours to go by. Bob came home, rubbing his eyes in the gesture that means he could feel grey hairs sprouting at that moment. He told me that the other guy was standing over Manda, who was sitting on the curb, crying. As he jumped out of the car, he could hear the guy cursing Manda, and telling her that he was going to sue. His shouting drained away almost instantly as he saw Bob coming toward them, and Manda running to her Daddy. The fellow was much more polite to Bob than he had been to Manda, especially when Bob got into his personal space and asked him why he had thought shouting at Manda was a good idea. The other guy squeaked that his son just got his license, had had two accidents and drove like a bat outta hell. He was just trying to help a fellow parent. Bob told him that he didn't need any help, in that quiet voice that sounds like a rumble coming from your feet. (I taught that rumble to Bob, but it works better for him than it ever did for me) They exchanged insurance information, Bob made Manda "get back on the horse," and drive herself to school, then he came home to me. I spent the rest of the morning taking care of things with the insurance company. I was so emotionally wiped at the thoughts of what could have been - a deadly crash in the dark of night, instead of a two mile an hour fender bender in front of the post office. I fell asleep at my desk, and didn't know it until Manda was gently shaking me awake. We spent the next hour or two talking about the accident from every possible angle, because Manda insisted that the fellow made an illegal turn in front of her, and the man insisted that he was driving along lawfully while Manda sped out of a side street, ignored the stop signs, and deliberately rammed the side of his brand new truck. I thought the truth was somewhere in the middle, and with everything being equal, they were going to find the new driver responsible for the accident. I told Manda, who was indignant at the thought. I didn't say anything at the time, but indignant wasn't what I was feeling at the thought of those increased premums for six (!) years. Then Manda pulled out a map-looking thing out of her backpack. It was the map section of an accident report, blown up to full page size. Manda told me what was going on between bites of pot roast. (and this is why this story is named what it is) When Manda went to school the morning of the accident, she was late by a half hour. The attendance officer didn't require a note, because she could see the accident from her office window, although she didn't know who had been involved. Manda got a late pass to admit her to physics. When she got there, Manda's teacher asked what had happened. When she mentioned "car accident," the teacher had seen it, along with half the class or more. knowing that the kids would want to talk about this to the exclusion of everything else, the teacher suddenly changed his lesson for the day to rapid deceleration. (stopping) The assigned homework was to take the two stories, and along with the cell phone photos of both cars' damage, to map out exactly what happened, and who was at fault. I wished I had this guy when I took physics, back in the stone ages. Manda, of course, simply filled out her map the same way that she had filled out the real accident report. She had been excused from making judgements about who was at fault. During the evening, she fielded many phone calls from her friends, who wanted to know specific angles and so forth. (Did I mention that her friends are all boys, and all are in AP Physics with Manda?) The next morning, the kids gave their presentations. Most of them were close, but only the teacher had everything right. He showed the kids how the only way the accident could have happened is if the driver of the SUV made an illegal turn in front of the old Buick. (yay!) Manda was given a copy of the report to turn in to the insurance company. About a week later, I got a call from a woman at the insurance company, asking what the heck was the paper stuck in with the claim. I explained, and she laughed. It wouldn't be admissable, of course, because only the claim adjuster could make the decision as to fault in the accident. But, as I predicted, it was likely to be determined that the new driver (Manda) would be at fault. We're still waiting to hear, and if we have to, we'll appeal any unfavorable decision. But it was a great thing for this guy to make a dry subject into a real life solution, and extremely thoughtful of him to help Manda get a fair shake. And yes, I sent notes along to the principal and superintendent of schools. (They must be waiting with bated breath for Manda to graduate. Whenever they say anythng about parental input, the kids all turn and say, "Hey Manda, your mother's been calling the school again." I'm offended. I have NOT called the school in over a year. Cheers, and now you can't say you haven't heard a story in forever and a day. Kathy N-V (who still remembers how to make a good heading) |
#7
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OT - STORY: I heart Physics Teachers
On Thu, 4 Jan 2007 15:05:37 -0500, Sarajane Helm wrote
(in message ): and I love your stories. Thanks very much for this one, and its SO GOOD to see you here again. You've been sorely missed. I'm glad to be back. I really needed the time away to heal and to try and get some strength and health back, and to maybe get my head screwed back on straight. I've managed the first one, and am still working on the other two. I'm glad to be back, and even happier to see that some of the old gang is still around, as well as quite a few other, newer names. Yay! Kathy N-V |
#8
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OT - STORY: I heart Physics Teachers
healed up and stronger, those two are great---but don't fret about which way
your head points. We love you being here even if it spins and ends up facing backwards. -- Sarajane's Polyclay Gallery Beads-Dolls-Wearable Art http://www.polyclay.com See the progress at "Pieces" http://www.polyclay.com/store.htm "Kathy N-V" wrote in message mcast.net... On Thu, 4 Jan 2007 15:05:37 -0500, Sarajane Helm wrote (in message ): and I love your stories. Thanks very much for this one, and its SO GOOD to see you here again. You've been sorely missed. I'm glad to be back. I really needed the time away to heal and to try and get some strength and health back, and to maybe get my head screwed back on straight. I've managed the first one, and am still working on the other two. I'm glad to be back, and even happier to see that some of the old gang is still around, as well as quite a few other, newer names. Yay! Kathy N-V |
#9
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OT - STORY: I heart Physics Teachers
oh, and I do understand deeply about the new driver anxiety. My 17 yr old
kid is also learning and I am beginning to re-think my ban on pharmaceutical aid. Some days a big bottle of Prozac satarts to sound good. Or maybe straight to the laudenum! (only kidding...I think) -- Sarajane's Polyclay Gallery Beads-Dolls-Wearable Art http://www.polyclay.com See the progress at "Pieces" http://www.polyclay.com/store.htm "Kathy N-V" wrote in message mcast.net... On Thu, 4 Jan 2007 15:05:37 -0500, Sarajane Helm wrote (in message ): and I love your stories. Thanks very much for this one, and its SO GOOD to see you here again. You've been sorely missed. I'm glad to be back. I really needed the time away to heal and to try and get some strength and health back, and to maybe get my head screwed back on straight. I've managed the first one, and am still working on the other two. I'm glad to be back, and even happier to see that some of the old gang is still around, as well as quite a few other, newer names. Yay! Kathy N-V |
#10
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OT - STORY: I heart Physics Teachers
hate so say this (especially here, and after being absent for the best
part of several months), I don't. DD had a (used and reasonably inexpensive) car waiting for her when she got her license (deal was too good to pass up). I had hoped that she'd get her license a few months earlier so that I wouldn't have to drop her off at her summer session (college) classes (before she graduated high school), but she didn't. At the end of summer break I told her that I wasn't going to drive her anymore, other than to school (on my way to work), period. She got her license at the very end of that summer, about 5 days before going back to school, and since October that year she took her car every day because she needed it every afternoon (so much for buying a school bus pass). As she's in college in Portland OR now, which has a very good public transport system (and we sold her car after she left, she busted one corner light and got one sidewall damage flat tire - that needed to be replaced anyway, but that was it), she doesn't need a car there and doesn't have one. Now while she is home for winter break she has on occasion driven DH's Explorer (and been offered my truck, but complaining about the sizes of both). Even after not having driven for 4-5 months we trust her with our vehicles ... Trust your kids. I did have some water in my eyes after reading Kathy's post, Manda was much more upset than the damage to the car would (IMHO) justified, telling me that she's the kind of kid like ours (who at some point came home with a 3.0 GPA and wondered why we weren't as upset as she was. the answer was "it's your problem, and seeing how upset you are about it, we're sure you're going to do something about it, so why should we be upset?" - and anyway, a 3.0 GPA isn't _that_ bad). If you have half level-headed kids, they'll do just fine - what you have to be afraid of is the idiots on the road, not them themselves. They'll do fine, hopefully getting enough experience driving (and having their reflexes in order) before they run into idiots on the road. (BTW: DH teaches physics. In college. I'm a physicist myself by education, but I couldn't teach my way out of a wet paper bag) Aloha, Maren Palms, Etc.: Tropical Plant Seeds - Hand-made Jewelry - Plants & Lilikoi http://www.jach.hawaii.edu/~maren/palms_etc/ - Royal Poinciana/Delonix Regia seeds available - (which can be drilled into spacer bars, though I haven't done so yet) Sarajane Helm wrote: oh, and I do understand deeply about the new driver anxiety. My 17 yr old kid is also learning and I am beginning to re-think my ban on pharmaceutical aid. Some days a big bottle of Prozac satarts to sound good. Or maybe straight to the laudenum! (only kidding...I think) -- Sarajane's Polyclay Gallery Beads-Dolls-Wearable Art http://www.polyclay.com See the progress at "Pieces" http://www.polyclay.com/store.htm "Kathy N-V" wrote in message mcast.net... On Thu, 4 Jan 2007 15:05:37 -0500, Sarajane Helm wrote (in message ): and I love your stories. Thanks very much for this one, and its SO GOOD to see you here again. You've been sorely missed. I'm glad to be back. I really needed the time away to heal and to try and get some strength and health back, and to maybe get my head screwed back on straight. I've managed the first one, and am still working on the other two. I'm glad to be back, and even happier to see that some of the old gang is still around, as well as quite a few other, newer names. Yay! Kathy N-V |
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