Egyptian Poetry and Tow Trucks
Ok, so maybe my World Literature class won't be so bad, even if my professor is one of those pony-tailed older men that just seems to think that the Odyssey and Gilgamesh are the best things EVER written.
We spent the first evening going over translations of papyrus from, and yes, you guessed it from the title, Egyptian poetry. Of course, just like in high school, we had to see as a class that the issues of the poetry dealt with "everyman" issues of love, passion, and good old fashioned (apparently) lust. A few poems caught my attention, "I'm not yet happy with your love...". This poem was about the girl who loved the boy she shouldn't, all her friends warn her to go away but she just can't. (gee, I wonder why that poem touched home so?) And next was the poem about how her man may go off in stylish clothes leaving her with just the sheet, or leaving so that he could eat!
Thankfully after all of that excitement (and seeing exactly how extensive his reading list was going to be in the next few weeks...), he let us go early. MERCY!
Alas, an early evening it was not to be.
My car barely made it out of the parking deck, to Courtland and would not advance further.
A nice young lady named Mung stopped to sit with me, which was sweet, because as the evening progressed, nice people were in short supply!
Smoove D came to represent and I thanked my sudden friend for staying with me.
Interestingly, four cops went by that did not stop. Two people stopped to ask directions, but not what was wrong. Four people did stop to ask if assistance was needed, all black, except one, who I had attended class with last semester. The cops were called after the battery on the car died and the streetlamp went out and I decided to really panic. They did not arrive.
Fortunately, Will, the tow truck driver did though. Courageous and quick he loaded up my car and took it to the dealership!
PS the police called after 50 minutes to ask if my car broke down...
We spent the first evening going over translations of papyrus from, and yes, you guessed it from the title, Egyptian poetry. Of course, just like in high school, we had to see as a class that the issues of the poetry dealt with "everyman" issues of love, passion, and good old fashioned (apparently) lust. A few poems caught my attention, "I'm not yet happy with your love...". This poem was about the girl who loved the boy she shouldn't, all her friends warn her to go away but she just can't. (gee, I wonder why that poem touched home so?) And next was the poem about how her man may go off in stylish clothes leaving her with just the sheet, or leaving so that he could eat!
Thankfully after all of that excitement (and seeing exactly how extensive his reading list was going to be in the next few weeks...), he let us go early. MERCY!
Alas, an early evening it was not to be.
My car barely made it out of the parking deck, to Courtland and would not advance further.
A nice young lady named Mung stopped to sit with me, which was sweet, because as the evening progressed, nice people were in short supply!
Smoove D came to represent and I thanked my sudden friend for staying with me.
Interestingly, four cops went by that did not stop. Two people stopped to ask directions, but not what was wrong. Four people did stop to ask if assistance was needed, all black, except one, who I had attended class with last semester. The cops were called after the battery on the car died and the streetlamp went out and I decided to really panic. They did not arrive.
Fortunately, Will, the tow truck driver did though. Courageous and quick he loaded up my car and took it to the dealership!
PS the police called after 50 minutes to ask if my car broke down...
posted by nicky at 6/16/2005 09:58:00 PM
2 Comments:
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Literature classes reek of unshaven armpits and the Grateful Dead. I know, I was an English Major and every class was an adventure into the third-world. Jane Austin smelled like Calcutta; Dickens like an Indonesian sweatshop; and you don't even want to guess what olfactory horrors wafted through the Modern French Poem 301. If your classes aren't filled with poltically-correct long-haireds arguing over Jesus allusions, hidden phallic symbols or Oedipus Complexes, consider yourself lucky, my friend! Oh, and never drop "juxtaposition" in mixed company.
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