A word of encouragement

A kind word for those of you who are not loving your new lives at college. I basically hated my first semester, and wanted to be home when I was away, and wanted to be away when I was home. I felt like a man cast adrift.

By the time my senior year rolled around, I didn't want it to end. I just loved it. I felt like I had come into my own as a person, and that person, with further evolutions, is still alive today. The person I was before college is gone.

Anyway, your experience may not dovetail with mine, but those of you who are window shopping in gun shops, wondering what the mimimum calibre pistol appropriate for blowing your brains out, just hunker down and wait it out. Things get better.

Which reminds me of the guy who decided to commit suicide, and went to a gun shop to buy the implement of his self-destruction, but was deterred when he saw how expensive the guns were. He'd be damned if he'd lay out that kind of dough for something he'd only use once.

The Men Who Stare at Goats

I'm one of those damned fools who believes he can judge a new acquaintance by the look on his face, and a movie on the basis of the trailer. When I was a kid, the trailers were much better. They gave you a small taste, a teaser basically, but they never clued you in to the plot. Nowadays, the trailers are twice as long, and they tell you the entire story upfront. I guess the money people at the studios did some research and found out that people like to know upfront what it is they're going to be watching. I'm not one of them. Anyway, based on the trailer, I thought this movie was going to be much better than it was.

First of all, it had a lot, and I mean a LOT of voice over narration, and this was coupled by a lot, and I mean a LOT of explanatory dialogue between the two main characters played by George Clooney and Ewan McGregor. And you guys remember how I used to rail against voice over. My criticism that a movie should be shown and not told is, in many instances, unfair, because the structure of a particular film may call for narration, and the narration may be organic, and not "cheating." But I hate it anyway.

By the way, forgive me for using this opportunity to return to my former profession, but the film is a send-up of another film, a parody in other words. The references are not heavy-handed, but if you've seen the other film, you'll recognize it. Nick? Are you listening? I figure you'll see this film. And I know you've seen the film that it parodies. Hence, I am putting you on the spot. I don't recall seeing it mentioned in any reviews, but doing research of this kind is cheating, and I have always expected, (and received) more from you. Hence, quiz commences. Or gauntlet thrown, if you prefer.

For the rest of you, I do not give this one a high rating.

N.B. Professor, I thought you were going to send me a link to that video of my Ticker-tape parade. Can you just give me the Facebook account, or do I have to be invited by the postee?

Ticker Tape Parade

When the Yankees won the World Series back in 1996, I decided to have a bit of fun. I marched my class down to Callahan's room, and we threw shredded paper all over the room, all the while marching around and around, chanting, "Eat your heart out Callahan, Yankees are the Champs again!"It was great theatre, and a great morale booster for the troops, who live for that kind of stuff. Naturally, I repeated it in 1998, and 1999. Being a Met fan made it harder in 2000, but it had become a tradition, and had to be done.

Then came the dark years, when Boston rose Phoenix-like from the ashes, and won two World Series and few Super Bowls. Callahan led a parade through my room after one such debacle, but the marchers marched under duress, and sullenly tossed their paper. I was proud of them.And so, today, I was not about to let the small and trivial detail of no longer working at Staten Island Tech deter me from my traditional role of "taunter of Callahan."

So, I emailed Manzo first thing this morning, and found, to my glee that a class was scheduled at the perfect time. I poked my head into his room before-hand, which ruined the surprise a bit, but added to the fun also, when he said, "I knew you wouldn't let me down, Bennett." The kids didn't know what a treat as in store for them, and they were gleeful when an entire brigade, including Manzo's class, and Ms. Ginos, (who had made a huge bag of confetti just for the occasion) strode down the hall and into his room.Prophetically, Manzo was teaching in room 310, my old room, the very one that I had launched so many epic parades from in year's past.

Alas, the Yankees denied me during my tenure in 313. I always thought something was missing.After we circled the class thrice, I hopped up onto a desk and proclaimed, "Let us hail the new Yankees, who, like their name-sakes, who saved the Union during the Civil War, have united the nation once again under the banner of Yankee greatness." We then asked Callahan to join in the salute, which he did, to his credit, but when we asked him to join the Yankee cadres, he demurred.

It was a lot of fun, but I have to say I was pretty downhearted when I left the building to rush off to my new job, which I loathe.

Until next year, then!