Clapping and Tambourines

So the delicate battle of mind over matter that we call "Spring Semester" has begun. I'm waging full warfare, setting my alarm early, getting up after a mere one snooze. I'm checking my emails in the morning. I have 15 minutes between every class, and none to eat. My walks take me from King to Boyd, which took me about 20 minutes today. People without fine motor skills, or with inner ear problems, shouldn't wear 4 inch heels in the snow. The woobly bobble of the young woman in front of me mixed with the erratic clack of her shoes made me sympathize with the insane, and the tremendous fingernails of my economics professor are too lengthy even for finger picking a guitar.

My creative non-fiction professor looks like a creative non-fiction professor. My contemporary American lit professor looks like a contemporary literature professor and my Media aesthetics professor deleted all but one form of media from her lessons. All of these things reinforce my faith that college has been and will always be the same.

In 40 years when I have kids, their professors will still wear leather fedoras and sueded jackets without shirts to allow their billowy chest hairs to billow their tiny hair hearts out. Their professors will still mention the number of books they've published (and occasionally they will have published the textbook, and my children will think "Oh shit") And occasionally my children will refuse to pay for textbooks, actually go to class or maybe even drink a beer. My children will thank me for helping them pay for college and at times wish they had never heard of college. My children will play the future equivalent of Rock Band until 3 in the morning and then complain about being tired at 3 in the morning the next day. They will watch a good friend be thrown out of the University for possession (after his second offense).

They will eat pizza two nights in a row, Chinese food as often as their stomachs will allow and they won't be incredibly interested in beer-pong. They will set their alarm clocks early and still be late for class. My children will enjoy every minute of it, in the long run. They will just have to keep reminding themselves of the big picture, and listening to songs full of clapping and tambourines.