Over the years, I have had the good fortune to visit lots of different schools, all the way from pre-school kids to college. I can honestly say I have never had a bad experience while talking to young people...if you don't count in my own home. Yesterday was no exception, as I spent part of the morning with the students and faculty of Grain Valley Middle School. Of course, there were endless questions about the chance of a snow day...and that was just from the teachers. One student asked me if I'd ever been chased out of town by an angry mob. He's obviously been a faithful viewer over the years to realize that would be a distinct possibility. Anyway, they were all terrific and it made for a very enjoyable morning. Thanks for the invitation and hospitality!

Naturally, the presentation...such as it is...varies depending on the age of the audience. For the littlest of the little, I usually read a book, Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs. It is a funny look at odd weather in the town of Chewandswallow. The copy I read from was given to me by a small school in Wisconsin. All the students signed it and included a picture. Today, most of those kids are well out of college. Everytime I use the book I think fondly of those kids as I actually hear my personal aging process. For the record, it is sort of a creaky, crunching sound.

High schoolers enjoy talking about weather but, also, have some serious questions about careers in broadcasting. Most are very encouraged by seeing how a person with such, obviously, limited abilities can keep a job in this field. I am always a little intimidated by the great questions, witty insights and, in the case of the male students, the ability to grow a full beard. When I first started visiting schools more than 20 years back, the young folks were polite but you could sense a little bit of "Hey! Who are you to tell us about careers or weather or anything? You're mostly a punk, yourself." Now, with white on top and more in the middle, the students treat me with greater respect. Like I was their father...or grandfather. I think it's respect. Maybe it's just pity...which, at my stage of life, I am perfectly willing to accept.

In some ways, middle school kids can be the most challenging audience. I say this not just because of the job-related visits but because of having been a close-up witness to the trials and tribulations of 6th, 7th and 8th grades, three times...with one more about to enter those important years. Those are the years when you want to be treated like an adult but aren't quite ready to let go of being a kid. A friend of mine, when his daughter was in 6th grade, said he felt like he was dealing with Sybil. One moment, this 12-going-on-40-year-old was acting like a high-strung runway model then, after the fireworks, he'd find her in her room playing with stuffed animals. Speaking for myself, and my good friend Sparky the Stuffed Aardvark, I think that showed great mental balance.

Just a little idea: if you're ever feeling blue about the state of the world, make plans to visit a school. Maybe even volunteer in some way. The future never looked so good.