Posts Tagged ‘professor’
He came on Friday, reminding us all how true it is that, as one of America’s founding codgers noted, fish and visitors stink after three days. He called one of my close female friends in a moment of crisis.
Newly graduated in December 2007, he had made the unfortunate choice of leaving CalPoly with a plain, ol’ business finance degree. That’s the degree linemen choose — in the business department, the prerequisite bar is usually set so low that Mike Tyson would earn his summa cum laude, even without threatening to bite off his professors’ ears.
As a finance graduate might understand, because there is such a great supply of business majors, there is very little demand. He’s been living out of his car since he left school, and hasn’t had a job since he boneheadedly quit his internship. He’s made a lot of mistakes.
Of course, he swears he’s made up this time, that he has a few good job opportunities on the horizon. Press a little harder, and you’ll find that these opportunities are no opportunities at all. They entail selling insurance, providing your own leads and working solely on commission. I’d rather work for Alec Baldwin.
Moreover, our friend is eternally awkward, and has no idea how transparent was his sucking up. Nicole would ask him: Want to do a puzzle, friend?
Sure. I love puzzles, dude.
His unenthusiasm was palpable. Or, a different friend would ask another: How’d you like hiking up in Yosemite?
It was sweet. Once we got to the top of our mountain, there were all of these hot chicks, especially Nicole.
I’m told he laughed his way out of the shock and horror the within-earshot Nicole gave him. He was the definition of pathetic, and almost the second definition of sympathetic. Early on his last day in Nicole’s apartment, he broke the shower head. Not because he intended to, but because he forced it in a direction it was not at all inclined to swivel. He was pathetically sympathetic.
Until, of course, he in confidence he tried to make what he’d play off as another misfired joke.
I didn’t want to take advantage of my mom or my sister, so I’ve been taking advantage of my friend Danny and my friend Nicole. Heh-eh.
My facial expression told him that I was not the kindred spirit he imagined me to be. He stuttered a bit, and clumsily tried to cover up his tracks with a few more of his one-and-a-half laughs.
Someone is in a dire need of a reset button, so it’s too bad God hasn’t seen fit to make ‘em. Part of me believes it’d just be a waste, anyway: A guy like that would just bone up and make the same mistakes the second time around.
He left on Sunday, proving once and for all that fish and visitors can stink within three days, as well as after.
One day, our professor began class by asking us whether or not we should teach morality in public schools.
It took about 12 seconds for my credential class to decide that yes, we should. We wouldn’t want our little rapscallions running in the streets, taking baseball bats to our windshields and setting fire to hobos just because they didn’t get taught morality at home. In true Socratic fashion, he almost immediately posed another question.
Whose morality?
We thought it was another gimmie.
Why, Judeo-Christian, we said. That’s pretty common and acceptable, and we don’t need to add in all the theology when we teach it.
In true Socratic fashion, that was another setup.
Who here doesn’t think they subscribe to this Judeo-Christian morality, or something close to it?
Just about everyone grunted in the affirmative.
Who doesn’t?
Silence.
Hah. I bet you guys are a bunch of hypocrites.
We insisted we weren’t.
Alright, then. Let’s prove it. Could I have everyone who is married or was married come and stand up in the front of class for a moment?
We did so.
O.K. This question isn’t for the people standing up. This is for the people sitting down. How many of you are virgins?
One of us raised a hand.
The rest of you are hypocrites. According to Judeo-Christian morality, if you weren’t married, you should be a virgin. Therefore, according to Judeo-Christian morality, there is only one moral person among everyone sitting down in this class.
Now my question to you is: How can you teach morality if you don’t practice it?
Good question. Awkward way of showing his point, but a good question nonetheless.
