School Days

Things are moving along for me, school-wise. Our department is undergoing a sort of reorganization. New graduate chair, etc, but the thing that will probably make the most difference is that Myrtle, who really ran the place (as far as we students are concerned) is retiring after decades of being the glue that made things work. She is this amazing, sweet, classy lady, who always had an answer for you or at the very least an encouraging word. She retires in two weeks and I will miss her like crazy.

I went to see her yesterday to turn in my plan of work. Instead of smacking me with it, because it was due four semesters ago, she smiled this big smile and hugged me and thanked me for it, saying she hoped she's get to see it before she left, said without a trace of irony. And then she clucked like a proud mama over all the A's. She is the best, she really is, and that place will never be the same without her.

No word yet on if my chair is going to let me switch majors. Myrtle went ahead and entered an override so I can take the necessary essay credits in the fall, which means one way or another I'll graduate in December, so I'm just going forward for now. Plan of work filed. I've got a second reader on board for my essay, who is another awesome lady and wonderful to work with. I've been so lucky with the professors I've had. Amazing people.

Laughed all the way through class last night. Part of it was we're all a little punch-drunk at this point. Dr. S was trying to demonstrate a point about Eco's theory of the code using two stuffed monkey and his index finger. Something about proximity and the syntactic difference between this and that, and in the course of the discussion he lets drop, "...but of course you could never make this work with a real monkey. They don't point and don't understand when you do. Believe me, I know..." and after letting that go, he goes right back to sign-vehicles etc until we all pretty much throw on the brakes and ask, "Wait, it sounds like there's a story there." He smiles and looks down at the podium and says, "Well, there is, but it's inappropriate for the classroom." Heh.

So after class a friend and I tag-teamed him. He'll usually dish with me outside the classroom. He once told me a story about Gertrude Stein and Alice Toklas and Hemingway that'll put you off your lunch for a week. But about the monkey it turned out to be a sad story, nothing untoward though. My friend scratches her head when he's through and asks, "But why would that have been inappropriate to tell the class?" And he said that a teacher is not supposed to share anything from his personal life with students. Really? I can't agree with that.

The personal relationships I've had, to whatever extent, with my professors, have taught me just as much if not more than the theory of the hoohah or whatever we're currently reading. I grant you that I could've probably lived happily without my thesis advisor's recounting during class about the time his boarding pass fell out of his pocket at the airport urinals and he had to fish it out of the bowl and dry it under the electric hand dryer. "It was a little crinkly, but no one knew the difference." Man was proud, he was. So then, I guess I did learn a little something from that. Your mileage might vary.

Anyway, Dr pointing at the stuffed monkeys is one of my favorites too. Unfortunately I get the impression he thinks my brain is made of green cheese, but I adore him. What can you do?