The Child in Its Swiss Classroom: A Toby Moment

“Pay attention, girls,” says the teacher. “This is Professor Teargarten, an astrophysicist who has published several research articles. He's going to speak to us today.”

Teargarten smiles. Andrea and her friend Daniella pay him no mind and whisper together.

“Young ladies,” he says, “do you know how to determine the height of a tall building with the aid of a barometer?” He holds one up.

“What a jerk!” says Andrea.

“Not entirely,” says Daniella.

“I don't know why you defend him.”

“It's my sense of things to come.”

Teargarten watches them whisper and scowls. “I wonder if that young lady can solve the problem for me.”

The teacher folds her arms and looks away in despair; she knows what's coming.

Daniella jerks her head at the guy to let Andrea know she's on.

Andrea looks at him. “Sure.”

“Stand up, Andrea,” says the teacher.

Andrea stands. “What's the problem?”

“We would like to determine the height of a tall building using no more than this.” He waves the barometer.

“You hang it by a string from the top of the building and lower it till it touches the ground. Then you measure the string.”

The other kids smile. They know Andrea. The teacher frowns.

Teargarten smiles patronizingly. “Well, I was hoping for an answer that would make use of the barometer as a barometer.”

“OK, you can walk up the stairs with it, hold it vertically to the wall and make a mark at the top every time, then as you come down count all the marks and you have the height of the building in barometer lengths.”

He tries to smile. “Yes, but what does that have to do with the barometer qua barometer?”

“OK, you could take it outside and measure the height of the barometer and the length of its shadow, and the length of the shadow of the building and by the use of proportion, you get the height of the building.”

The teacher nods to herself tragically.

Teargrten sours. “Doesn't really exploit the properties of the barometer, does it.”

“OK, tie it to the end of a string so it's a pendulum, go up to the top and swing it, calculate the value of ‘g’ at ground level, and also at the top of the building, using Newton's law of universal gravitation. From the difference of the two values you can get the height of the building.”

Teargarten is now afraid. He looks at the teacher, who shrugs. The kids are enjoying themselves.

The teacher says, “Yes, but the barometer, you see! Use the barometer!”

“OK. Take it up to the top, drop it off and time it with a stopwatch till it hits. Then using this formula”—she goes to the board and writes d=½at²—“calculate the height of the building.

Teargarten is aghast. “Where did you learn this?”

“Everybody knows it. It’s a legend about Niels Bohr.”

“How old are you?”

“Nine point five seven eight three eight.”

The kids laugh. Teargarten and the teacher do not.

Andrea sighs with boredom. “I guess you want me say take barometric readings at the bottom and the top and calculate the height with them, but there's an easier way.”

Teargarten hardly dares ask. “What's that?”

“You knock on the super’s door and say ‘Here's this really neat barometer. I'll give it to you if you tell me how high the building is’.”

The kids laugh. Teargarten and the teacher do not.

The child, don't you see? The child.

Excerpted from the Toby series, coming soon to a screen near you. 
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Robert MacLean is a bad poet and an independent filmmaker. His The Light Touch is on Amazon PrimeTubi and Scanbox, and his 7-minute comedy is an out-loud laugh. He is also a screamingly funny novelist, a playwright, a blogger, a YouTuber, a reviewer of films, a literary critic, and a stand-up comic poet. Born Toronto, PhD McGill, taught at Canadian universities, too cold, live Greece, Irish citizen. Committed to making movies that don't matter. No brains, but an intellectual snob.

Pretentious Pictures Presents:

CHOCOLATE AND CHAMPAGNE
A comedy with a dark center

A Beverly Hills woman wakes up "older" and finds her life with a younger man undignified. The stage version was produced in at the Creative Place Theatre in NYC.


Attached: Bo Derek

Diana, the Hamlet at the heart of this comedy, is a clothes designer with a boutique on Rodeo Drive, a house in Beverly Hills, and a younger lover, Jim, her kept man for two years now. There’s nothing she can’t handle—except getting older.

She deals with a birthday by throwing him out. They're right for each other, she regrets it immediately, but she can't take him back, because her daughter Jackie, who idolizes and competes with her, tells her Jim has seduced her, and Diana believes it.

Proposed: Peter Stormare


So she makes do with the respectable but empty life she'd thought she needed, with her lawyer Griff—more her age, and on her success level. Griff has been in love with her for years. Now’s his chance.

Proposed: Gael García Bernal


Jim is happy with a champagne-and-sports-car life, but he’s also a talented script-writer who’s postponing seriousness into a future that never comes. Together they’re fast company. They must have been brilliant at her birthday party last night.

This morning, though, even while he’s making love to her, she’s spooked. She tells him he has to go. She wants something more presentable, more—respectable—before it’s too late. Which shocks him. He takes life as it comes, but this is a bit violent.

Proposed: Jennifer Coolidge


Betsy, the suicidal widow of a husband she drove to suicide, is too scattered to pass a driving test, takes a lesson with Jim, spins the car onto a Mulholland Drive cliff and is ready to gun it and take him with her. He calms her down and she takes him home. But he can't forget Diana.

Proposed: Adelaide Clemens


Jackie, Diana’s daughter, idolizes her and so misses no chance to pick at and defy her. Inwardly shaky, she is outwardly impish and sexy. She thinks she’s in love with Jim; in fact what she needs is a father.

Proposed: Owen Teague


Betsy's son Dylan—eccentric hair, psychotic eyes, twitches constantly and rhythmically as if keeping time to music he doesn’t much enjoy—is in the same class at UCLA with Jackie, over whom he moans uncontrollably. He disgusts her.

Proposed: Rosie Perez 


Maria, Diana's housekeeper, is the deadpan foil to Diana's Hamlet, secret ally to Jim, and the one person Diana doesn't dare defy.

Proposed: Amy Brenneman


GWEN is Diana's mischievous best friend and alter-ego. She'll take Jim if Diana doesn't want him! Just kidding. In an attempt to bring them back together she throws a party and invites both of them, but it turns into a confrontation....

And the final character is Beverly Hills—the tone, the climate, the village size and ambiance that make it inevitable for these people to collide.







Pretentious pictures presents
a comedy with a dark center.

The perspiration on your anal pucker,

Oh, sweetest distillation of your shit!—
Emboldens me to fix thereto my sucker
So I can work my tongue around in it.

A pleasure almost too intense to mention,
The perspiration glistening on your toes,
Lubricates my sordidest attentions,
To try to force each digit up my nose.