The best teacher I ever had was Mr. Tidyman in fifth grade. He was about seven feet tall (or seemed it) and had a comb over which he made fun of all the time and which would blow around in the wind, revealing his bald spot when he played war ball with us. He had an excellent sense of humor, told us jokes and funny stories all the time and encouraged us to be free spirits. He made school tremendously fun. He taught us a ton of math; more math than I learned in all three years of middle school combined. While kids in the other fifth grade classes were struggling with their multiplication tables, he made basic algebra and geometry interesting and common sensical for us. This is how he taught us what reciprocal fractions are:

First of all, he asked if any of us already knew what the word "reciprocal" meant. None of us did, so he gave us a demonstration. He told this kid, Tony Gonzalez, to stand on a chair in front of the class. Tony was wary, but complied. When he had Tony satisfactorily situated upon the chair, Mr. T. motioned to him and said, "This is Tony." Then he said, "Ready?" Tony looked sideways at him and said something like, "Uh-" as Mr Tidyman picked him up and turned him upside down.
"This is the reciprocal of Tony," said Mr. Tidyman as he held the boy upside down about 3 feet above the ground. We all thought it was funny as hell. Tony turned beet red, but he thought it was funny too. Fractions were always a breeze.

Mr. T. also loved literature. He read to us from Poe, Twain, Carroll, etc. He taught us what stuff like alliteration, metaphor and iambic pantameter were and gave us kick ass spelling words. Our very first spelling words on the very first day of school were prognosticate and procrastinate. Some of the stuff he had us read: Flowers for Algernon, Casey at the Bat, The Cremation of Sam McGee, Jabberwocky (He had us memorize this. I still know it by heart), The Secret of NIMH, The Raven, The Walrus and the Carpenter, The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County. He had us make up our own stories and read them aloud every week. After each student read their story, there was constructive criticism from the class. With an emphasis on the constructive part. Badmouthing fellow students was so not tolerated. He was very adamant about treating others with respect.

Mr. Tidyman had a whole book of weird poems and stories that he used to read to us from. I wish I could remember what it was called.
He had an 8-track, tape deck and a record player in the classroom and would let us listen to music during tests.
During recess and P.E. he'd come out and play with us.

We once went on a week long field trip up in the redwood country (California) to a camp called Silverspur. It was out in the woods and there was a gorgeous river/creek nearby. One day, he took us all out to the river and told us to find a comfortable spot on the rocks. They were huge rocks, smooth and warm. We all laid down, sprawled here and there. He told us all to relax, close our eyes and just listen. We listened. We laid there for around an hour I think, just hearing the world around us and feeling completely at peace. This was about forty rowdy ten year olds, mind you, all lying quietly, absorbing the world. I still remember the sound of the water very clearly. And the feel of the rock against my back. And the complete sense of love and tranquility that he showed us how to tap into.