California Dreamin' [part XI]
Continued from part X. To read this story from the beginning, go here.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Room 338, Westin Hall
(student residence, USJ campus)
not long after midnight
The Director invited me to sit in on a graduate seminar this afternoon, and afterwards some of the grad students and I went to Gordon Biersch to watch the Sharks game. I'd been to this brew pub on previous trips to San Jose, and so it was on my must do list.
What a great group of students they were. And talk about diversity! One girl, Tamara, was born in Syria and raised in France. José looks Mexican and is from Mexico City, but Juan, who looks Puerto Rican, is from Massachussetts, speaks with a broad Boston accent, and only knows a few words of Spanish. There was Felicity, a beautiful Chinese girl who spoke English with no discernable accent (I asked her whether she was Canadian. She was not.), and Temma, who was Indian with hair down to her knees.
They teased me because I drank pints of beer and because I was the only one of the group interested in the hockey game, but that was OK because I'm sure I wasn't the only person in the bar that night who knew what a touque was. Most of the patrons were watching the game, and there was enthusiastic hooting and hollering at each appropriate moment. No one would have needed to explain to that crowd what offside means.
This is California. It doesn't snow, no one yells "Car!" and they call it ice hockey — yet their team is in the playoffs. I'm so embarassed.
But the Sharks are a good hockey team, and I like the beer at Gordon Biersch. I think maybe I could live here.
Most interesting of the student bunch was Donna: six feet tall, hair like Billy Idol, a fantastic deep voice that was a joy to listen to, and boy, did we listen to her, because she told a lot of stories, mostly about her baby. She asked me for advice about job hunting, and I learned that she's about to graduate with a master's degree in advertising and has never heard of Goodby Silverstein.
Maybe I can be of some use here, I'm starting to think.
We stayed until closing, then we went to a late-night pizza joint and had one last pitcher, and the kids told me about their ad campaign projects and what it's like to be a newcomer to la la land.
Tomorrow night when I see him I'll tell Jack, "If I get offered this position by the time I move here these kids'll have graduated, and so they won't ever know how much they're going to influence my decision."
In part XII, Jack calls.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Room 338, Westin Hall
(student residence, USJ campus)
not long after midnight
The Director invited me to sit in on a graduate seminar this afternoon, and afterwards some of the grad students and I went to Gordon Biersch to watch the Sharks game. I'd been to this brew pub on previous trips to San Jose, and so it was on my must do list.
What a great group of students they were. And talk about diversity! One girl, Tamara, was born in Syria and raised in France. José looks Mexican and is from Mexico City, but Juan, who looks Puerto Rican, is from Massachussetts, speaks with a broad Boston accent, and only knows a few words of Spanish. There was Felicity, a beautiful Chinese girl who spoke English with no discernable accent (I asked her whether she was Canadian. She was not.), and Temma, who was Indian with hair down to her knees.
They teased me because I drank pints of beer and because I was the only one of the group interested in the hockey game, but that was OK because I'm sure I wasn't the only person in the bar that night who knew what a touque was. Most of the patrons were watching the game, and there was enthusiastic hooting and hollering at each appropriate moment. No one would have needed to explain to that crowd what offside means.
This is California. It doesn't snow, no one yells "Car!" and they call it ice hockey — yet their team is in the playoffs. I'm so embarassed.
But the Sharks are a good hockey team, and I like the beer at Gordon Biersch. I think maybe I could live here.
Most interesting of the student bunch was Donna: six feet tall, hair like Billy Idol, a fantastic deep voice that was a joy to listen to, and boy, did we listen to her, because she told a lot of stories, mostly about her baby. She asked me for advice about job hunting, and I learned that she's about to graduate with a master's degree in advertising and has never heard of Goodby Silverstein.
Maybe I can be of some use here, I'm starting to think.
We stayed until closing, then we went to a late-night pizza joint and had one last pitcher, and the kids told me about their ad campaign projects and what it's like to be a newcomer to la la land.
Tomorrow night when I see him I'll tell Jack, "If I get offered this position by the time I move here these kids'll have graduated, and so they won't ever know how much they're going to influence my decision."
In part XII, Jack calls.
Labels: academia
2 Comments:
Oh, I did a chicken wing review for Gordon Biersch in San Diego. They were good, if not Buffalo style.
Maria, I think could probably make a shorter list of places you haven't done a chicken wing review ;)
Sass - More will come. Each will be different, and they'll each give you the same, but an entirely different, feeling.
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