Friday, August 14, 2009

Nowhere, Man

I woke up this morning and I was actually excited to teach, believe it or not--and all because I was conducting Part 2 of the Ironic Hipster Music Experiment with two of my classes, including one at 8 A.M. Usually it takes something like a fire on my face to get me out of my bed after less than one snooze button, but this time I was up and getting dressed--okay, I was up--before my alarm jingle could even hit the fifth bar.

Playing the music for the kids is so much fun. Some of them, I can tell, love it, especially in my morning class, which is mostly "arty" types. I saw some air-drums, and lots of foot-tapping, and even some looks of pure shock. And hey, I even saw--lo, what could that be!--some smiles! Smiles! In English 203, "English for Academic Purposes"? It can't be!

The name itself precludes happiness and hints at the sluggishness of the class itself: the Orwell grave-spinner "English for Academic Purposes," instead of the tidy, Strunk-and-White-approved "Academic English." Tell me, if you were not going to be an academic, AND you did not plan to use English at all in your future--what kind of mood would you be in, having to wake up for an 8 A.M. class twice a week, where attendance is strictly taken, and where most days a fast-speaking foreigner blabs at the front of class and pressures you to speak this strange language, or else he sits at the front of the class as you silently work on workbook exercises intended to hammer in English for Academic Purposes techniques by rote, by rote, by rote...

So I think they like the music. More so than the class after lunch, anyway, which didn't seem to care either way. Also, I think the fact that they hated all of the music the first time around, and the fact that this time had even more "experimental" (if you can call it that) music--starting with the bleep-bleep-bloop-bloop of Dan Deacon--might have soured them. But I haven't tallied anything yet, so who knows.


Otherwise, I lost my Certificate of Health somehow, so I have to get ANOTHER one, which was already such a hassle and embarrassment the first time. And I was told that my 4 x 6 passport photos were not acceptable, and that only 5 x 6 pictures would be tolerated, so I have to do that too, even though that is always an unnecessary struggle.

My class was also partially audio recorded for a radio program that Surat is doing, and I gave her some real meaty footage ("Okay class, repeat after me," and then a school chorus of "billboard," "brochure," "skywriting," "window display").

Then I took a nap. Not a slingshot nap, I'm afraid (future thesis writers take note), but still refreshing nonetheless.

What does the night bring? Pork, of course. With basil, with peppers, with garlic, with rice.

To quote Ludacris:

There ain't no pork/
On my fork/
I don't even speak Pig Latin.

For me, all of the opposites of those statements are oo-tray.

NOW'S THE TIME ON SPROCKETS WHEN WE EAT! (Are we laughing yet? Anyone?)

1 comment:

  1. I knew that if anyone was going to be appreciate of my Sprockets references, it would be you. Major chunks of my middle school memories consists solely of you screaming "ANTS ANTS ANTS."