This past Wednesday I taught my first American history class to undergraduates at Beihang. I knew that after lunch most of them would be quite tired. This was also aided by the fact that the classroom was sweltering and the students are English majors, not history. It was the first lesson of my first time teaching this course, so I was a little nervous. As I mentioned in another post, when I am nervous I tend to babble (as well as stutter). While teaching, I started to listen to myself and I noticed that I said “ok” and “right” frequently. It was so frequent that if my students had smuggled alcohol into the classroom for a drinking game based on my usage of these two words, they would all have died from alcohol poisoning half way through.

The reason I bring this up is that I recall a time when I too was a student, a sophomore in college just as my students are today. The class was music appreciation, taught by Prof. Barzenick. While this class was about the appreciation of music, my feelings were anything but. My tastes at the time were limited to country and 70’s rock. Through the lens of maturity, I must admit that I was pretty one dimensional when it came to music. Some may still believe this is true. Despite my past disinterest, I actually learned quite a bit from that class. For example, I was recently able to impress a friend or two with the knowledge that Monteverdi produced perhaps the earliest opera. This despite the fact that I cannot tell Monteverdi from Mozart if my life depended on it.

What I remember most about his class, however, is the reason for this post. He used the phrase “you get the idea” after just about everything he said. Bored from tinkling pianos and fat sopranos, I started to doodle a comic book based on this concept, titled Death by Barzenick. In it, Prof. Barzenick died in myriad ways, stating after each time “you get the idea.” I tortured this poor man in ink for an entire semester, although he never knew of it. I had no animosity toward him, personally or professionally, but it was what my somewhat morbid tastes at the time swayed toward. At the time, I thought it vastly amusing. Yet now, listening to myself teach, I was struck by the thought, “I am Barzenick!” I initially panicked at that and resolved right then to not use those two words the rest of the class. This resolution lasted about two or three minutes. Since I seem unable to discipline myself, I should get a t-shirt made, even if no one understands the reference.

Since I have not posted since November, I thought now would be an excellent time to detail my past month and a half. I finished my thesis defense. Since the post where I had just turned in my first draft, I had a second draft to finish. In some ways it was almost like writing a second paper. I lived on Taco Bell, Mountain Dew, and junk food. Except for the arrival and departure of food and little sleep, all I did was type. I did learn quite a bit from this experience, however, as I began to feel the effects of heightened blood sugar. I have since modified my diet by eating much healthier.

On the 17th of December, I had my thesis defense. It was an extremely tense experience for me acerbated by being ill. I knew going in that it was going to be rough, something that others had told me about in their own defenses. It was made worse by the less than perfect product that I had to deliver. I am not a great writer, something that I have gradually come to accept. The verdict was that my thesis lacked clarity and needed to be more to the point. This is something that I have long known about my writing as it has also been evident in my personality. Something that really needs to be addressed in both.

Just before my thesis defense I was in a wreck. The first one in my life while driving. This happened on December 11th. I was going down my residential street in Salt Lake and looked down to adjust my temp control. A woman was performing an illegal 3-point U-turn in the middle of the street. I rammed her broadside. Dealing with the situation and subsequent stress was not helpful in finishing my semester. Her insurance admitted full liability and are going to pay for the damages – $4500 dollars worth. I think the collision shop is overcharging but her insurance sent me there so I will not say anything.

From there, I came home. Drove 3 days. In the past I was able to do it in one go, but age has worn me down. In a lot of ways. My situation back home seems to be the same as when I was in depression a couple of years ago. No job and having to live with my dad and step-mother. None of us are really happy with that. I started working again for Elite, doing hotshot driving. I need to find a 9 to 5 as driving is getting really old too. My dad loves doing it in his retirement. Maybe I will too in 30 years or so, but right now it is just a way to make money till I find something more permanent. I still have not given up on working for the Feds or going back abroad if that does not work out. I have always felt the most happiest when out of the country. I don’t know why this is, but I guess I am built this way.

The big negative on going home was my Aunt Carol. She was my mother’s fourth sister and was very ill in the months leading up to my return. When I did return home, I planned to visit her but I did not. I regret that and have thought about my reasons for not visiting. I loved my aunt, but the situation she was in resembled my mother’s too much for me. I know that seems selfish, but let me lay a little truth on you – I am selfish. Always have been and while I seem to getting better, it is a race against returning tides. While I like seeing my extended maternal family, I would rather not have done so in the way that it occurred. I will surely miss her. Because my brother’s arm is injured, I was an alternate as pallbearer. I was proud to do so, though pride does not accurately cover the emotion well. It is just that I do not have the words to describe it. Carol Milton Hooper (1941-2013), Godspeed as angels take you to your rest with the Lord, your parents and my mother. Godspeed.