A few days back, I wrote about some of the conditions surrounding my divorce, and in the mix, I mentioned that the school where I teach is “middling first tier”. I got a tongue lashing from purin_kun, telling me that this could be considered “offensive” to my “kids”… And he is right, of course. Reminiscing about my divorce put me in a feisty mood, and the current situation at school perhaps pushed me over the edge. As some of you know, our program was scheduled to hire a replacement for a full-time position, but the powers that be suspended our search (in)definitely. From what I understand, other departments suffered the same fate, arousing some dissatisfaction. But, as purin_kun pointed out, this is a problem that has nothing to do with their education–the best possible my colleagues and I can provide–and I shouldn’t allow my frustration to manifest in a manner that suggests my kids are “middling”, for they are not. My deepest apologies to them.
To the people of the great state of California, my old home, Ahnold is now your governor. Actually, I think it should be fun, although I don’t think he will be able to fix all the problems that need fixin’ in California.
Mmh posted the warning Wear your seat belt. And I would like to second that, for it has saved my life once–perhaps to the regret of some of my kids? After a night of heavy drinking–I was at UCLA studying Mushakoji Saneatsu, so that make it 1982, I think–I headed to J-town for work the next morning, a Saturday, at around 9am. With a major hangover, I was my usual irritable, short-tempered self. I was headed north on the highway 10 bypass (connecting the San Bernadino and Santa Monica freeways) just before it merged with the Hollywood freeway. Around the 1st St. offramp, a slow moving vehicle cut in front of me.
Hung over and cranky, I began to tailgate this slow driver as we headed beneath the two-lane underpass that curved left toward the Hollywood freeway (101) at 45mph. Suddenly, this car steps on its brake. I slam on mine, and my car veers left, crosses the left lane and crashes into the concrete wall of the underpass. Dazed, I look up to see the car that stepped on the break speed away. The cars behind me, thankfully, were NOT tailgating, so they were able to stop before hitting my car that was, I was slowly realizing, perpendicular to the road. A car could have easily broadsided the drivers side of my car. And as the driver, this small miracle was not lost on me. Just as amazingly, I had my seatbelt on and it prevented me from going through the windshield and hitting the concrete wall. And even more amazing was the fact my car, my 1973 Chevy Camaro, was still running, and I was able to back it up and drive it off the freeway. That car was a tank, a fast one, but still a tank.
Since that day, I have always counted myself as one lucky sumbuck. I buy lottery tickets with the full knowledge that I will never win, for I used up a significant portion–if not all–of my quota of luck that Saturday morning in 1982. And I NEVER tailgate anymore. I rarely exceed the speed limit, and generally drive safely. So always buckle up guys…