The theory of relativity

My friend just finished the biography of Albert Einstein and sent me a long email about the theory of relativity. He wrote about the incestuous nature of beach share houses and seeing the same people summer after summer. He articulated a need to find something more meaningful this summer. He is not seeing anyone at the moment.

Last summer this same man was a flirting, party-hopping Hamptons dude. And he just so happened to have had a girlfriend back then.

Everything is relative.

Yesterday, as we were grading exams, a student came into the office. Her teacher had a nervous breakdown and took a month off the prior semester. In her place there was a sub, a Panamanian woman who used to work fulltime at my school but left because she kept failing the teacher certification exam.

The Panamanian sub was back visiting yesterday. The student saw her when she entered the office. The student did not see her real teacher, the woman who had the breakdown, because she was over at the scantron machine.

“I miss you!” the student said to the Panamanian sub, “I failed because you weren’t there!”

The Panamanian sub smiled.

Then the teacher who had the breakdown, the student’s real teacher, cleared her throat loudly.

The student turned red in the face, stammered out an apology, and ran out of the office.

Relativity is everywhere.

My back has been out for the past few days. It was particularly sore yesterday when we had to sit in the auditorium for an hour while my principal gave a powerpoint presentation on highlights from the school year. These included the purchase of six new walkie talkies and changes in the filing system used by guidance.

My back felt fine a little while later as I sat for two hours straight and graded papers.

A postulate of relativity theory states that two events that appear simultaneous to an observer A will not be simultaneous to an observer B if B is moving with respect to A.

In other words, what Einstein’s theory of relativity boils down to is as follows:

It’s more fun to be single when you’re hooked up, one person’s compliment is another person’s slam, and, finally, keep the microphone away from my principal, please.