feather2pixels

Who says unions aren’t good for anything?

Which one would you rather teach this spring?

EPO 235   Steam Plant Watch Team Management
EPO 321   Diesel Plant Simulator
ET 232     Statics
ET 332     Strength of Materials
ET 342     Refrigeration and Air Conditioning
ET 452     Electrical Distribution and Transmission

I gave a little five minute survey to my students on Friday. I do this kind of thing occasionally because I never have any idea how effective I am. But also, there are always comments like this and I love them:

I’m back from the teaching conference for engineers. No more pretending: now I am teaching for real.

I wish I could say it was going well, but it feels like everything else right now. You know, time and space collapsing into a tar-like substance that is virtually impossible to remove from cotton. Words come out of my mouth but I barely hear them. I certainly don’t control them. I am numb to everything going on around me.

I feel like I am losing my sensory perception. I can’t hear people on the phone, I misread words in magazines that I never needed glasses to read before, and my memory feels like the old butter knife you never use because it’s too dull, even for a butter knife.

Somehow, my students put up with it all. Some of them could even be described as bright eyed and eager and, in this way, they amaze me. I’m hoping their patience will outlast my derusting.

I’m in San Luis Obispo, the most annoying to spell place in America. School sent me here to attend a teaching workshop for engineers at Cal Poly. What is a teaching workshop for engineers? Great question. A teaching workshop for engineers is a type of prison where people who are good at intonating their voice spend three days trying to convince engineering professors to look up from their Power Point presentations. Oh it’s not even that bad–I happen to strongly believe in all this bullshit and appreciate what these people are trying to do–but why do these things need to descend into self parody so quickly? Why is someone ever insisting on receiving my attention to tell me that “getting [students] to remember is hard, but how many kids know every word to the rap music?” Jesus!

At least I get to observe myself teaching on tape (or rather, I will so when I muster the courage to put my pride where my mouth is and watch it) and at least S.L.O. is a lovely place to visit. I am staying with Tom the Historian, from cruise, and tonight he baked beets and pork tenderloin while the central coast breeze circulated through his antique apartment.

Also, cruise was no fluke: that dude drinks like no tenured professor I know.

We have approached the beginning of finals week at the Academy and it already feels like summer (although: it’s California–it always feels like summer). The sun is hot, the tides are strong, and the parking lots, depending I guess on one’s academic performance, are either half empty or half full. Graduation is on Saturday and the T.S. Golden Bear sets sail at 08:00 on Sunday . All hands must be present at 07:00. I got my cabin key and stopped in for a peek this afternoon. The room was unexpectedly huge with a private bathroom and a handsomely upholstered easy chair. Best of all, there was a recent Penthouse in the top drawer of the dresser, where you’d find the bible in any motel.

I love this. This is why the Maritime Academy is so great:

So now I teach in the auditorium. It’s better than the ship.

Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday I teach aboard the ship. When I step aboard, the federally-mandated security officer always greets me with “how’s it goin’, teach.” It might be one of the best things about my job. As far as today goes, I foresee a lot of hermitting in my office with the door closed. My big interview in on Tuesday. I should know about the summer soon (to sail or not to sail).

For the time being, Morgan Jameson and Indy Sarah are both out of the picture. While this is obviously what was supposed to happen, many questions remain unanswered: why did i push away what i could have for what i could not? Does something good automatically become something bad? Do I posses the ability to take control of my life? At any rate, now I will need to invent new ways to feel sorry for myself. Thank God Fall Out Boy just released a new album.

For the second week in a row, Phanna and I defied all odds to win trivia night alone. I wouldn’t mention it if it weren’t the best thing tha happened all week. Not just the Pig Buck, but hanging out with Phanna–he told me that he’s finally ready to start being human again, which certainly sounds like good news.

There is absolutely nothing good about text messaging.