Bent Words

Bent Words

March 07, 2005

Back to my earlier college days...

The three Dave's, who collectively taught The Atomic Bomb Class from an ethical, scientific and historical standpoint, were more than willing to join forces during weekend gatherings with a strictly social goal in mind. They not only shared first names, but the combined ability to drink Scotch like I've never before, or since, seen. I can clearly recall Dave M., the man whose visage most freakishly resembled that of Einstein, with the bust of that famous physicist wrapped beneath one arm (we had collectively presented it to him as a going away gift) and a scotch on the rocks in his free hand, strolling about the living room of one of my friends' houses. I never had a class with this man, but he was certainly a favorite amongst the entire student body.

Dave C. was a young, overly caffinated philosophy teacher who never let an opportunity for a laugh pass him by. He often came into class, working on his fourteenth cup of coffee after a mere three hours of sleep, and become so enamored with his lecture that he would usually begin sputtering and spewing misspelled words all over the eraser board in red marker. Naturally, he would compensate with an outstanding bit of humor after the classroom murmurs died down and so 'Day-cartes' and 'Sock-ra-tease' will forever remain embedded in my mind as the 'other' great philosophers in our history. I'm absolutely positive that every student under Dr. C's tutelage used these revamped and amusing spellings in their final exams.

I enjoyed him so thoroughly that when he decided to instruct a Logic class via the internet, I enrolled in that class as well. This was a mistake. Combined with the fact that I intended to take this course out of the classroom, I had also recently purchased my first motorcycle; a little 1982 Honda CMX 250. These two premises, 1) my first bike and 2) warm weather, lead to the logical conclusion that I wasn't going to get much studying done when it came to my second class with the amiable Dr. C. I narrowly passed with a C.

Another professor who, despite the fact that she made seventeen too many commentaries about her fastidious lack of shaving habits, introduced to me to the beauty of diversity amongst people. She was a hard-core feminist, a noble libertarian and my instructor for Anthropology and Women's Studies. They were wonderful classes, filled with tons of reading and plenty of writing (something which I, unbeknownst to most, happen to have a fine affinity with). She was never really lewd toward men, although most of world surrounding that school claimed otherwise. It was a small campus and therefore the proceedings of her divorce spread as quickly as a California forest fire and it was always rumored that she had 'done away with him' in a most ferocious fashion. The fact that she flew off to Europe for a 'vacation' shortly after all of this horrific hearsay didn't help matters much, although I cannot recall these incidents making the local news.

My Public Speaking professor, who always seemed to believe in each and every one of his students beyond the call of duty, coerced me into giving the best and most personal speech of the class. He assisted me outside of class and gave me the confidence to give a speech that was outside of the norm. It was about a dear friend of mine who is no longer in my life but shall never be forgotten. The words provoked a girl in the front row to shed tears with my apparent ardor and affection towards this person. It was a wonderful experience.

My affection for knowledge shall always be marked at each and every one of their classroom doors and beyond. These people paved the way for me to continue on with my education; but not right away...

To Be Continued...

Written at 7:27 p.m.