Craig McNutt

Timpanist, Percussionist, Teacher, Wine Nut, Dad, Husband, Observer....

[Craig McNutt @CraigMcNutt]

@JessicaDBrand Sorry. No John Wockenfuss? Not until he's on there. Not even a nickname!

[Aaron Reichlin-Melnick @ReichlinMelnick]

Not a single Founding Father practiced Stairway to Heaven while at a Guitar Center.

In the spirit of America’s 250th Birthday, it should be banned nationwide.

[Craig McNutt @CraigMcNutt]

@BostonLogan @aryaalizadeh Yep. I spot British Airways flight 213 that has been on the ground for an hour but for some reason you can’t find a gate. Even the pilot is going on the intercom sayjng he doesn’t know what’s going on. You are so not ready for when the FIFA arrive.

[Dennis Goris | Cartoons @DennisGoris]

Have you been injured? #slushfund

[Craig McNutt @CraigMcNutt]

I just committed to ride the Pan-Mass Challenge. Click here to join me for #PMC2026! https://t.co/fn5tKJgIq5 #PMC2026 via @panmass

[Dr. Clown, PhD @DrClownPhD]

Ok, I need to level up my AI skills. This is just amazing.

[Craig McNutt @CraigMcNutt]

@mbta share the road safely. Lol.

[Craig McNutt @CraigMcNutt]

@Sunrun Hi @Sunrun maybe spend less time trying to sell me batteries by leaving me phone messages telling me there is a problem with my system. Don't bait and switch your messages.

[Craig McNutt @CraigMcNutt]

@SecVetAffairs You could eliminate “chaos and death” by not sending ICE on and having them shoot law abiding citizens. But you do you…

[Danny Deraney @DannyDeraney]

So cool.

53 years ago today, School House Rock Premiered.

Have you ever wondered who the voice was behind your favorite School House Rock songs?

Meet Jack Sheldon and Bob Dorough performing a live rendition of Conjunction Junction.

[Governor Newsom Press Office (parody) @AwesomeNewsom]

AWW. LOOK AT THE HAPPY COUPLE. SITTING SO CLOSE TOGETHER YOU COULD PUT FIVE MORE COUPLES BETWEEN THEM AND STILL HAVE SPACE FOR A BALLROOM AND A FREE JET FROM QATAR.

[Charlotte Clymer 🇺🇦 @cmclymer]

[traditional Christmas Eve calls to kids from the White House]

Reagan: Where are you in the U.S. and what do you want for Christmas, kid?

Bush 41: Where are you in the U.S. and what do you want for Christmas, kid?

Clinton: Where are you in the U.S. and what do you want for Christmas, kid?

Bush 43: Where are you in the U.S. and what do you want for Christmas, kid?

Obama: Where are you in the U.S. and what do you want for Christmas, kid?

Biden: Where are you in the U.S. and what do you want for Christmas, kid?

Trump: Santa might be bad, and we’ll prevent a bad Santa from getting into the U.S. You know, kid, I won the election. It was a big, beautiful victory.

[Molly Ploofkins @Mollyploofkins]

Redacted States of America

[NYTPitchbot @DougJBalloon]

Whether it’s Pete Buttigieg learning to speak eight languages or Donald Trump successfully identifying a giraffe, there’s plenty of intellectual accomplishments on both sides of the aisle.

[Travis Akers 🇺🇸 @travisakers]

A message from a Kindergarten teacher:

After forty years in the classroom, my career ended with one small sentence from a six-year-old:

“My dad says people like you don’t matter anymore.”

No sneer. No malice. Just quiet honesty — the kind that cuts deeper because it’s innocent. He blinked, then added, “You don’t even have a TikTok.”

My name is Mrs. Clara Holt, and for four decades, I taught kindergarten in a small Denver suburb. Today, I stacked the last box on my desk and locked the door behind me.

When I started teaching in the early 1980s, it felt like a promise — a shared belief that what we did mattered. We weren’t rich, but we were valued. Parents brought warm cookies to parent nights. Kids gave you handmade cards with hearts that didn’t quite line up. Watching a child sound out their first sentence felt like magic.

But that world slowly slipped away. The job I once knew has been replaced by exhaustion, red tape, and a kind of loneliness I can’t quite describe.

My evenings used to be filled with construction paper, glitter, and glue sticks. Now they’re spent filling out digital reports to protect myself from angry emails or lawsuits. I’ve been yelled at by parents in front of twenty-five children — one filming me with his phone while I tried to calm another child mid-meltdown.

And the kids… they’ve changed too. Not by choice.

They arrive tired, anxious, overstimulated. Their tiny fingers know how to swipe a screen before they can hold a crayon. Some can’t make eye contact or wait in line. We’re expected to fix all of it — to patch the gaps, heal the trauma, teach the curriculum, and document every move — in six hours a day, with resources that barely fill a drawer.

The little reading corner I once built, full of soft beanbags and paper stars, was replaced by data charts and “learning metrics.” A young principal once told me, “Clara, maybe you’re too nurturing. The district wants measurable results.”

As if kindness were a weakness.

Still, I stayed. Because of the small, holy moments that no spreadsheet could measure —
a whisper of, “You remind me of my grandma.”
a shaky note that read, “I feel safe here.”
a quiet boy finally meeting my eyes and saying, “I read the whole page.”

Those tiny sparks were my reason to keep showing up.

But this last year broke something in me.

The aggression grew sharper. The laughter in the staff room turned to silence. The light went out of so many eyes. I watched brilliant teachers — my friends — vanish under the weight of burnout, their joy replaced by survival.

I felt myself fading too, like chalk on a board that’s been wiped one too many times.

So today, I began my goodbye. I pulled faded art off the walls and tucked thirty years of handmade cards into a single box. In the back of a drawer, I found a letter from a student from 1998:

“Thank you for loving me when I was hard to love.”

I sat on the floor and cried.

No party. No applause. Just a handshake from a young principal who called me “Ma’am” while checking his notifications.

I left my rocking chair behind, and my sticker box too. What I carried with me were the memories — the faces of hundreds of children who once trusted me enough to reach out their hands and learn. That can’t be uploaded. It can’t be measured. It can’t be replaced.

I miss when teachers were partners, not targets. When parents and educators worked side by side, not in opposition. When schools cared more about wonder than numbers.

So if you know a teacher — any teacher — thank them. Not with a mug or a gift card, but with your words. With your respect. With your understanding that behind every test score is a heart that cared enough to try.

Because in a world that often overlooks them, teachers are the ones who never forget our children.

[First To Hear It @firsttohearit]

The U.S. Open just showed Donald Trump on the screen for a second time and he got booed for 30 seconds straight.

Fans are pissed off. This is the clip that he didn't want you to see.

[Craig McNutt @CraigMcNutt]

@AdamSchefter As if it won’t increase ever.

[Craig McNutt @CraigMcNutt]

@flexcar Folks, don't waste your time with this company! If the car breaks down you are so screwed. You are at their mercy for getting a tow and a repair location. In less than a month and half my wife has had 2 cars fail - a transmission and a dead battery.

[Robert J Ellingsworth 🆓 @BY1959]

They did not.