Snapshots of a Modest Life

End of an Era

There comes a point in every professor's life and career when they get fed up with repeating the same material to students every new semester and finally throw in the towel and retire. My favorite professor has reached that point and will turn in the keys to her office at the end of the summer semester. Several of my classmates and I have been trying to convince her to hang around for just one more year and spread some more knowledge our way. Sadly we started our campaign to get her to stay shortly after she turned in her paperwork. Good job us.

You're probably wondering what makes her my favorite professor. Well, it's a number of things really, but mostly it's because she likes us and is willing to joke around with us. That, and she's just so darn cute when she giggles about the less than scandalous material in the 19th Century literature we've been reading (less than scandalous by today's standards that is). Not that there's anything wrong with that, it's just so cute when she talks about "flaming passion" and thinks we need an explanation. It helps a lot that she loves my class. She said we were among her favorites in her 30 years of teaching. Go us.

So anyway, Dr. B- is retiring and we've been getting our fair share of the things she would like to do before she retires. Among those things:

1. giving away her office furniture to various students
2. passing on her two favorite jokes to the class lover of jokes (who just happens to be me, gosh, you tell one pirate joke...)
3. calling her class (pardon the phrases, it's a direct quote) "sons of bitches" at some point in time.

She has given away much of the office furniture, and has actually used "the phrase" in addressing the class; prompted by yours truly. So staple your pants to the chair, children, because I must relate this story.

It was last Wednesday that she first revealed that she wanted to say "the phrase" to her class because an old retired professor from FSU had once said that to her class; she was also giving away the chair that she had gotten from that professor of legendary status. She discussed with us how she would use it, and we decided that it should be in a quick reprimand for the next tardy person through the door. Well, someone was tardy, but she couldn't get it out. Class progressed uneventfully. We were all disappointed at not getting to hear "the phrase" put into use, but we knew our day would come. Friday's class rolled around and I was running a bit late, maybe a minute or two. When I walked in, Dr. B- was answering someone's question and did not have the chance to say anything about my tardiness. I stood next to my desk and waited for her to finish answering the question then said graciously, "Dr. B-, I was late. Don't you have anything to say to me?" Then Dr. B- said, "Why you [the phrase] need to be on time to my class!" She smiled broadly and laughed as her last few words were lost in the laughter from my classmates behind me. Several people theorized that I had waited outside until I was late in order to obtain the desired effect, but no, I was actually late and had only thought of saying something as I walked through the door. Dr. B- made sure there was no offense taken by the comment and I of course said there was and that I would be taking a rather lengthy swim out into the ocean after class if anyone wanted to join me (the mode of suicide chosen by Edna Pontillier, the main character from Kate Chopin's The Awakening).

The whole episode was great fun and it makes me all the more sad that she is retiring after the summer semester. So here's to you, Dr. B-. We'll always love you and your quirky sense of humor.