The Teacher and the Learner

On January 27th, 2009 American author John Updike passed away.  I can’t say that I’m well versed in regards to his writing or that his novels have meant much to me.  This was illustrated perfectly when, after hearing of his death, I spent the next 10 minutes thinking about two books of his I enjoyed – A Painted House and The Client – only to realize that those were written by John Grisham not Updike.  However one Saturday morning, Updike’s words found a way to have profound impact on me.

Dear Mr. Updike: I'm sorry I mistook you for a different author post mortem.

After a hard day’s work, my idea of time is based on what is playing on the radio during the drive home.  At work I deal with meetings, schedules, conferences calls, and all sorts of calendar related minutia to the point that once I’m outside the confines of my vocation I subconsciously block the idea of time altogether.  This is likely the reason that I’m late to everything on the weekends.  That combined with pure laziness and  a complete disregard for other people’s time.