Friday, May 8, 2015

Sent in by Ribaldry Is My Middle Name.


  1. He's kept his hair and is still wearing a tie to work. I call it a win.

  2. Oh, I don't know. I grew up near Daytona Beach Community College (now Daytona State College), where it's not unusual for students to attend class in beach attire. When I took Intro to Fortran Programming there as a high-school student in the mid '70s, most students seemed serious and studious. Also, Fresno City College here does a fine job of teaching physics, particularly considering the resources they get. Don't be mean to CCs!

  3. Go Frod! I actually love my CC and respect most of my colleagues. I find it challenging and meaningful work, if beat-head-against-wall frustrating at times.

    But it isn't what I was dreaming of back in my days of "Future's so bright, I gotta wear shades."

    1. from Ribaldry

      I have always taught at a community college. I'm okay with it. The money is good compared to my cohort at non-descript state schools. I teach more than I want and have less time to study.

      And what Proffie Galore says catches my exact meaning. Never, ever, in all of my grad school career did anyone ever mention that was where I'd end up. It never entered my mind, and I felt like shit for years when I realized that I was not going to be the professor of my dreams. That's all I meant.

    2. Kids, kids! Do you think when I got my Ph.D., in that great, mass-ego-stroke called the Ivy League, that I dreamed of winding up at place best known for sports, remedial education, and sheep fucking?

      More to the point: Did anyone dream that my old teachers, who are still back at the Ivy, would be creaming in their jeans in that ever self-congratulatory tone that I'm now a full professor with tenure---never mind that it's at at a place best known for sports, remedial education, and sheep fucking?

      (Oh, all right. I’ll concede that the weather here in Fresno is essentially perfect for astronomy from March to November, even when we’re not having a four-year drought. I now routinely turn my nose up at weather I’d have jumped at the chance to use as a student back at the Ivy.)

  4. I never thought that I'd end up teaching at the academic armpit of the universe when I started grad studies over 35 years ago. Worse yet, I wondered why I even bothered putting any effort into my teaching, considering that the institution's policy was: "You Pay! You Graduate!"


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