"Rarely is the question asked, is our children learning?"

On Sunday morning at 4 a.m., I was walking Sparky through Sacramento's darkened streets, past the exact same house where I met the Kiwi percussionist last year (this year, the house's yard is inexplicably strewn with toys) when a startled young woman jumped up from a chair on the porch. She was holding a laptop computer, and in the ghostly half-light she said, "Oh, I was doing homework!" I awkwardly bade her a pleasant good evening, and walked off, thinking to myself, "WTF?"