POV
BACKPACK PLAYLIST
By Barbara Shields | Contributor
FALL 2024 ISSUE
Photos courtesy of Barbara Shields
“It’s the first day of school today.” Those words invariably elicited cheerful platitudes from my mother: “You’ll make new friends … learn new things … you’ll see.” Really?
Nothing could alleviate my white-knuckle terror at the thought of BACK TO SCHOOL. How could the contents of my worn leather school bag — a No. 2 Ticonderoga pencil, a notebook and a pencil case — protect me from dodgeball, exams and mean girls? Not even my grandmother roasting chestnuts in the oven and slipping them inside my mittens to warm my hands in the winter gave me hope.
Today, accessorizing is essential for those first weeks. My fourth-grade granddaughter’s unicorn backpack features a coterie of amulets, a side pocket for a water bottle and academic necessities like a Taylor Swift pencil set, glitter pens, sticky notes and a Squishmallow key chain.
Having stored my summer soundtrack in the car’s glove compartment, I think that going back to school this September — in the metaphorical sense — can broaden my horizons and reinforce my allegorical backpack. Armed with skills like cursive writing, telling time without a digital device and composing complete sentences without abbreviations, I’m throwing caution to the wind, and embarking on a new curriculum: fitness, pastoral care, architecture and art.
Since time’s winged chariot is drawing near, my shelf life and well-being are priorities. Thanks to a great pal’s encouragement, I’m applying for a local senior center membership, and signing up for yoga, Pilates and strength/balancing. These “workout” sessions come with a chair to safeguard each participant’s aging edifice. Coffee’s on the house.
I’ve always wanted to perform a wedding ceremony. You know — marrying your best friend to her third husband when no one else is up for the job. Scrolling through the internet, I discovered that a flock of celebs have secured certifications in the ministry department. Eager to enhance my practical knowledge, I selected an authentic “heavenly” organization to fulfill my needs. Once I complete the necessary information — a simple name/email address form — I can be “ordained” online within minutes. I just have to hand over a modest fee, which entitles me to a clergy badge, an embossed scroll and a video demonstrating church-approved procedures for officiating at weddings, funerals and house blessings. Hallelujah!
I am besotted with architecture and structures as disparate as the Eiffel Tower and the Brooklyn Bridge. And who doesn’t love a nice gargoyle? Mandatory skills for this exalted profession demand mathematics, bursting with complex theorems, equations and schematics. I think that means a lot of technical prowess and straight lines. My Erector set started the process for me — then trigonometry put it out of its misery. You can’t transform your sketches and blueprints into a functional building without calculus in your toolbox. Thus, I have chosen to focus on architecture’s aesthetics, rather than clashing with my old high school nemesis. I just ordered a copy of “One Thousand New York Buildings” by Bill Harris. The photographs look great. Math not included.
My determination to immerse myself in the intricacies of art was prompted by a recent exhibit at the Met in New York. Surrounded by a vast circular rendering of Monet’s garden at Giverny, I wanted to dip my toes in the water and splash barefoot through the lily ponds. This semester, at a local gallery, I plan to study the history of Paris juxtaposed with the emergence of Impressionism, and imagine myself walking those streets in the late 1800s — hanging out at the Moulin Rouge with Toulouse Lautre or joining Manet at a corner booth in the Folies Bergère.
But enough about me. What’s in your backpack?