two assumptions yesterday lead to Ruin. and Lessons learned.

Isn’t it nice to take a moment to consider the dangers of assuming things, thus edifiying oneself and taking yet another step on the infinitely long road to Perfection? Yes, it is. I can’t fucking WAIT to be Perfect.

Yesterday, when I wasn’t doing everything exactly right, I made two assumptions, in two different situations. Let’s examine each one not-so-closely”

1. The Children.

Yesterday morning, at 9am, I had an “audition” “teaching” children writing & theater stuffs at a public school that shall remain unnamed. I was told I’d have a class of about 20 fifth graders, maybe fourth graders. I spent hours preparing what I believe was a flawless 45-minute lesson plan, brimming with engaging and enriching activities that could only serve to spark the interest of the representatives of Tomorrow (actually, people between the ages of zero and 18 are also still concrete, visible participants in toDAY, but never you mind. They’re the FUTURE, damnit, the FUTURE! Not the present, the FUTURE). I suppose, however, that I either a) overestimated the impeccable design of my lesson plan and the engaging qualities of the activities, as well as my ability to effectively communicate with these Tomorrowmen, OR b) the little Tomorrowpeople just weren’t sophisticated enough to appreciate the impressiveness of my presentation/lesson plan.

After much deliberation, I’m coming down hard on the side of (b); my Genius was wasted on the adorable little ones. I mean, it’s not that they aren’t cool people, I liked them very much. I think, even, that they liked me, at first anyway. I think they wanted this to work out. But there were too many of them – 30 – and I was outnumbered by the masses and their lack of sophistication. Maybe in a few years they’ll realize how fun AND educational it is to create superheroes.

Lesson learned? Never assume people are as Amazingly Smart and Sophisticated as you are. It’s nice to pretend that the world can keep up, but sometimes you just have to assume Ignorance and Incompetence. Which isn’t to say I really think these people were incompetent or ignorant, but the other valuable lesson I learned is: blame the youth when you’re running in circles where everyone’s lauding the youth. (If I were palling around with people who were alREADy blaming the youth, mind you, I’d totally change the lesson learned to Blame the Administrators. But I’ll save that for another lesson.)

2. The Adults

Well, not really the adults, but last night I had the very dubious honor of “performing” at a “fundraiser” (called, incredibly, “Laughs Not Cash,” when they were asking for a fair amount of cash at the door, as they should have) for an exceedingly wonderful, accomplished, dedicated, & talented individual who is running for a position in city government. In preparing my set, I believed that EVeryone had, like me, watched the presidential debate the night before, had been similarly awed and appalled by McCain’s use of airquotes in referring to the “health of the mother” in the context of abortion law/rights, and had read up extensively on debate reviews, analyses, and so forth. EVeryone would appreciate my brilliant reference to this moment when, after I discussed trying to induce a DIY miscarriage rather than have an abortion (hilarious stuff already!), I said “I share this anecdote because I want to make it clear that I’m not one of those pro-abortion extremists who’s thinking about the [airquote] health of the mother [unairquote]; no way! Fuck the health of the mother, push that bitch down the stairs! Even if it’s me!” or some iteration of that.

However, as soon as I said “health of the mother,” to a distinct absence of laughter – not even a rueful chuckle – I realized, suddenly, that no one in the room had watched the debate (there weren’t that many people in the room, so that part wasn’t so unbelievable). At that moment, I realized that all the Sarah Palin jokes I’d refrained from because I thought, at two weeks, that they were TOO OLD, would have been much better received.

Lesson learned? Sometimes you just don’t have a good set.