You do such wonderful children’s sermons.

Thanks.  I really appreciate that.

As part of the “contemporary” service at the church where I work, there’s a brief story time in which some well-meaning adult tries briefly to entertain and instruct a group of kids who range from babies to fourteen-year-olds.  I’m on the rotation of speakers.  This Sunday I helped the kids build a fort out of empty cat food boxes.  Then we kicked down the fort and threw the boxes all over the church in order to re-enact the Easter story.  No, really.  It made sense, I swear.  And the kids had fun.

You’re very concrete.  You think in physical details, I can tell.  Kids love it.

Well, kids like to move around and play with things.  And, yes, I am fairly concrete in my thinking most of the time.

Kids really get that, you know.  Now me… I’m not that concrete.  I’m more philosophical.  Like Socrates.

Like Socrates?  I am a little incredulous.

I know when I read that book he wrote… what’s it called?  Anyway, when I read his book, I realized that’s just how my mind works.

Socrates didn’t write books at all.  He crops up in some Greek plays and, mostly, in Plato’s works as kind of a character.  You might be thinking of his, ah,  “Apology.”

Oh, Aristotle then.  I meant Aristotle.

I didn’t feel inclined to mention that Aristotle is tremendously physical in his writing or that he could fairly be called a scientist as well as a philosopher.  Nor did I feel especially inclined to mention that telling someone her mind is like a child’s while yours is most similar to the mind of an early Western philosopher is pretty much a failure at compliment.

Isn’t philosophy interesting, though.  I do like a good thorny book to read like that sometimes, don’t you?

I always loved lectures in philosophy in college.

My application process for the district job is complete.  Now I’m just waiting around to see if they’re going to call me and interview me and hire me.  I am idly shopping for a black skirt that costs zero dollars to wear to said interview.