California Dreamin' [part IX]
Continued from part VIII. To read this story from the beginning, go here.
Wednesday, April 26
Room 338, Westin Hall
(student residence, USJ campus)
11:10 p.m.
There's a Mercury News newspaper box in the lobby of the residence and a Starbucks in the next building, and I've already settled into a routine. The thing about spending a few days on the left coast, when you're from the East, is you're wide awake at 6:00 every morning.
Today my horoscope read:
My horoscope, likely, was of interest to no one but me. The rest of the city was more interested in the front page of today's Mercury News, which showed a picture of the front page of today's Mercury News, and a headline reading, "Extra! Sold!"
How very postmodern.
It's been a long day.
This afternoon the Director of the School of Business Communications at USJ threw me to the lions. A group of fifty or so very bored lions, who looked like they'd just had their fill of gazelle and were settling in for their afternoon naps on this gorgeous, sunny California afternoon. Either that, or it was the last week of the semester and they'd just been informed they'd be having a guest lecturer from Canada in their Advertising 101 class.
"Hello," I began, and I looked them straight in the eyes. The ones whose eyes were open, that is. "My name is Postmodern Sass, and it's true, I'm from Canada. You can probably tell from my pasty white skin. And yes, it's also true that we say "eh" at the end of every sentence, eh, though we try very hard not to when we're in this country, so see if you can catch me doing it."
One or two of them chuckled at this.
"I've only been here for two hours and already a dozen people have told me that this is the first nice day you've had here in weeks." I paused, for dramatic effect, then said, "You don't expect me to believe that, do you?"
A girl in the back jumps up and exclaims, "Today's the first day all week it hasn't rained!" There are murmurs of agreement from around the room.
"Well, I'm sorry, but I simply refuse to believe that. I saw frost on the ground at the Buffalo airport this morning. I came here because I expected it to be beautiful and sunny. This is California, after all; don't try to dispell my illusions!"
A few more lions have lifted their heads from their desks.
"And I hear you have a hockey team here that actually made it into the playoffs? I'm from Toronto. You know, Original Six, and all that. The Maple Leafs have been the Stanley Cup champions a bunch of times, though not in my lifetime. And here I am in California, where it doesn't even snow and you're the ones with the team in the playoffs?"
I walk toward the front of the room, shaking my head sadly, then raise my arm towards the students in a "stop" gesture, and say, "I don't even want to talk about it!"
I kept talking for an hour and fifteen minutes, the full length of the class. I showed them The Globe and Mail's Web site, and asked them to pick out the advertising. I asked them to explain how they knew it was advertising, and how, in any media, we can tell the difference between advertising and editorial content. I explained a little about how online advertising is bought and sold. They didn't know what CPM meant before I got there, but when they returned to their jungle they did.
Later, the Director and some of the faculty took me out for dinner to a fabulous seafood restaurant in downtown San Jose. I hadn't mentioned that seafood is my favourite, and I felt this made up for springing the teaching the class thing on me.
Being grilled while you're eating grilled salmon isn't as unpleasant as it might sound. I think they liked me. All except for Doris Stickler, that is.
"Sass taught Clive's class today," beamed the Director to the others at the table. "She did a great job, even though she didn't know she'd have to do it."
"Imagine how good I can be when I actually have time to prepare," I said.
They all laughed at this. All except Doris.
Much later I drove back to Westin Hall with Alex Farber, who's also a new professor. He just moved to San Jose from Wisconsin, and is living temporarily in the USJ residences. Of all the faculty I met tonight, he's the only one who isn't over 55. He looks like he might be a year or three younger than me, which would make me only the second youngest faculty member at the School of Business Communications. And I haven't seen thirty for some time, Gentle Reader.
"Doris should have retired years ago," Alex told me. "Don't take it personally: she doesn't like anyone."
* * *
California Dreamin' will continue in part X, and may go on for some time before Postmodern Sass decides whether or not she'll move to California. In the meantime, she's spring cleaning like nobody's business, just in case. You know she already painted her bathroom and posted an ad to sell her Ikea dining room table. Next it's time to sell Oma's antique dresser. But first there's a game of Trivial Pursuit to be played, and a book to be read.
Wednesday, April 26
Room 338, Westin Hall
(student residence, USJ campus)
11:10 p.m.
There's a Mercury News newspaper box in the lobby of the residence and a Starbucks in the next building, and I've already settled into a routine. The thing about spending a few days on the left coast, when you're from the East, is you're wide awake at 6:00 every morning.
Today my horoscope read:
"Guard against being vulnerable. The new moon might mark the start of a new cycle in business or career. Certain relationships can have an impact on your reputation for good or for ill."Ho, boy.
My horoscope, likely, was of interest to no one but me. The rest of the city was more interested in the front page of today's Mercury News, which showed a picture of the front page of today's Mercury News, and a headline reading, "Extra! Sold!"
How very postmodern.
It's been a long day.
This afternoon the Director of the School of Business Communications at USJ threw me to the lions. A group of fifty or so very bored lions, who looked like they'd just had their fill of gazelle and were settling in for their afternoon naps on this gorgeous, sunny California afternoon. Either that, or it was the last week of the semester and they'd just been informed they'd be having a guest lecturer from Canada in their Advertising 101 class.
"Hello," I began, and I looked them straight in the eyes. The ones whose eyes were open, that is. "My name is Postmodern Sass, and it's true, I'm from Canada. You can probably tell from my pasty white skin. And yes, it's also true that we say "eh" at the end of every sentence, eh, though we try very hard not to when we're in this country, so see if you can catch me doing it."
One or two of them chuckled at this.
"I've only been here for two hours and already a dozen people have told me that this is the first nice day you've had here in weeks." I paused, for dramatic effect, then said, "You don't expect me to believe that, do you?"
A girl in the back jumps up and exclaims, "Today's the first day all week it hasn't rained!" There are murmurs of agreement from around the room.
"Well, I'm sorry, but I simply refuse to believe that. I saw frost on the ground at the Buffalo airport this morning. I came here because I expected it to be beautiful and sunny. This is California, after all; don't try to dispell my illusions!"
A few more lions have lifted their heads from their desks.
"And I hear you have a hockey team here that actually made it into the playoffs? I'm from Toronto. You know, Original Six, and all that. The Maple Leafs have been the Stanley Cup champions a bunch of times, though not in my lifetime. And here I am in California, where it doesn't even snow and you're the ones with the team in the playoffs?"
I walk toward the front of the room, shaking my head sadly, then raise my arm towards the students in a "stop" gesture, and say, "I don't even want to talk about it!"
I kept talking for an hour and fifteen minutes, the full length of the class. I showed them The Globe and Mail's Web site, and asked them to pick out the advertising. I asked them to explain how they knew it was advertising, and how, in any media, we can tell the difference between advertising and editorial content. I explained a little about how online advertising is bought and sold. They didn't know what CPM meant before I got there, but when they returned to their jungle they did.
Later, the Director and some of the faculty took me out for dinner to a fabulous seafood restaurant in downtown San Jose. I hadn't mentioned that seafood is my favourite, and I felt this made up for springing the teaching the class thing on me.
Being grilled while you're eating grilled salmon isn't as unpleasant as it might sound. I think they liked me. All except for Doris Stickler, that is.
"Sass taught Clive's class today," beamed the Director to the others at the table. "She did a great job, even though she didn't know she'd have to do it."
"Imagine how good I can be when I actually have time to prepare," I said.
They all laughed at this. All except Doris.
Much later I drove back to Westin Hall with Alex Farber, who's also a new professor. He just moved to San Jose from Wisconsin, and is living temporarily in the USJ residences. Of all the faculty I met tonight, he's the only one who isn't over 55. He looks like he might be a year or three younger than me, which would make me only the second youngest faculty member at the School of Business Communications. And I haven't seen thirty for some time, Gentle Reader.
"Doris should have retired years ago," Alex told me. "Don't take it personally: she doesn't like anyone."
California Dreamin' will continue in part X, and may go on for some time before Postmodern Sass decides whether or not she'll move to California. In the meantime, she's spring cleaning like nobody's business, just in case. You know she already painted her bathroom and posted an ad to sell her Ikea dining room table. Next it's time to sell Oma's antique dresser. But first there's a game of Trivial Pursuit to be played, and a book to be read.
Labels: academia, moving to California
4 Comments:
I think I gave up on hockey (aside from the downfall of the Blackhawks... original six!) when I started seeing teams like the Carolina Hurricanes, Florida Panthers, Dallas Stars, and Phoenix Coyotes. Something inherently wrong with that one.
Sass the Lion Tamer. There's a skit in there somewhere.
This Doris sounds like a bitch. If you need my services as a hired gun, you know where to find me.
Need me to take care of Doris? If so, just let me know... I know somebody... ;)
Go Oilers!
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