For some inexplicable reason, The Jester decided to take a writing course at the Oregon Coast Community College. A real course with credit, not the continuing education type designed to enrich the lives of senior citizens. Or keep them out of bars. Whichever applies.
It’s been a long time since The Jester has been on this side of the table and it’s a little scary. I mean there’s homework. Over the last few decades, I’ve had assignments, tasks, output, milestones, summaries, action plans, workplans, papers, abstracts, memos, more memos, impact statements, mea culpas, recommendations, position descriptions, reviews, and reports. But homework, damn that’s harsh. I’ve started having those dreams again where I’m running naked down Times Square trying to turn my homework in on time. Of course, in those days Times Square was populated by hookers, pimps, and dealers so running around naked waving pieces of papers was no big deal compared to the current Anderson Cooper/Kathy Griffin (rest her soul) New Year’s Eve era where you’d probably get arrested. Or freeze.
And though it galls him no end to admit it, The Jester has ‘stuff’ to learn. We read a story about a wife’s reaction as the husband devolved to an ape then to a turtle and then other forms of aquatic life. The Jester fixated on the screwed up evolutionary sequence – how did a turtle get in the evolutionary chain? But one of the students astutely pointed out the story was an allegory about the breakdown of the relationship, how the two were drifting apart. Which might explain The Jester’s divorce from Wife #1 when he grew copious amount of hair on his back.
I could go on, but I have a homework assignment.