Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da

My students mock me. (Risky business, that. One doesn’t often tease the lions on safari—twice ; does one?) But in this case, I get it. I taught them soon after arriving something I learned from Loyola professor Joe Procaccini—the answer’s always yes. Here’s the example Joe used: If my 17-year-old waits until 11:30 p.m. on a Saturday night to ask for the car keys, the answer is yes. (If I drop dead in the next few minutes, take them out of my pocket and enjoy yourself!) Funny? To me, it never gets old (that’s another Thannerism that my kids are sick of); but on a very real level, it is not only true; it’s a way of thinking.

Invariably, when students ask me ‘yes or no’ questions, I immediately answer, “Yes...” So when my kids ask me questions to which they already know the answer (e.g. Can we have an extra recess? Can we skip homework tonight? You get it…) someone, usually more than one of them will call out—in their best mocking voice—the rest of my response, “…if I change my mind!”

But, as much as my kids think I am being difficult, I’m not. I always consider the “yes option” first. If the answer is “yes” then what are the consequences? Need an example? On Friday with very minutes left in the school day until my three-day weekend was set to begin, Ava (sweet, sweet Ava) walked toward the classroom door where I was standing. “Mr. Thanner,” she asked, “may I get my guitar?” I asked her why she need her guitar at that moment (See? The answer wasn’t “no”—yet). She looked upwards, batted her eyes as she often does and said, “We have a recital to—” then it hit her.

“Mr. Thanner, will come to our recital tonight?” I repeated my question—why do you need your guitar, right now? “I want to practice for the recital, but please Mr. Thanner, please, will you come to our recital?” I asked her who “our” was. “Lily, Anna, and I…” but before she finished her answer, here band mates were also at the door. “We’re first,” Anna added. “Yeah, you don’t have to stay for the whole thing,” Lily said. See why the answer is always “yes”?

John, Paul, and George

When I entered the orchestra room at 6:25 the Three Lady Beatles looked as shocked as if they hadn’t mentioned it at all. Like the piano recital I attended not long ago, the agenda was quite simple. Each student plays one, two or three short pieces while granddads and moms watch through the camera viewfinders, nanas smile intently, and dads work iPhones (until their own performs). The only difference I saw was that in this one students accompanied each other. For example, Lily and Anna played rhythm for each other, then Ava did that for the two of them, then they returned the favor when Ava was featured. It was cool.

I didn’t have a program so each number was either a total mystery or a pleasant surprise; none greater than the opening notes when my brain instantaneously told me:

Desmond has his barrow in the marketplace,

Molly is a singer in the band…

I simply cannot thank Dr. Procacinni enough for the unintended lesson he taught me all those years ago. “I wouldn’t miss it,” I told my three musicians before Ava ran off to get her instrument.

There was true irony in the choice of music that night:

Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da, brah!

Lala lala life goes on…

So it does. So…it…does.