When I was a kid, my dad would spend many a day grading those little blue books that teachers have students write essay exams in. I remember that some of the students had worse handwriting than I do (mine is legible when I try). I remember many a sunny spring day, much like today, where he would sit at the dining room table and grade essays all day.

Whenever my dad would grade papers, he would play classical music. He has an impressive record collection, and most of it was classical music, with some Beatles and soundtracks thrown in.

For some reason, I always think that he played Vivaldi’s seasons often, but I’m not sure if my memory is true or not. I was always more of a fan of Beethoven and Rachmaninoff.

Today I have quite a bit of work to get done with the semester very quickly wrapping up. I decided to put on classical music, since working to music has stuck with me. I can’t work to music with words though, so I have a few classical CDs and some wordless soundtracks. Today, I put on Vivaldi. Today, I can so clearly remember being 10 or 11 years old, sitting in the den and seeing my dad grading papers at the glass dining room table, with a mug of coffee, the sunlight in the room. Today, I’m sitting in the GSLIS lounge, on my computer, writing papers for my professors to grade (maybe at their dining room tables), with a cup of iced coffee.

Maybe my dad and I aren’t really all that different after all. I can say now that I’m glad about that.


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