And today’s my turn to start class. Just one: Shakespeare and Adaptation. Apparently there’s something called adaptation theory(1) that I know more or less zilch about,(2) but I like the professor and I heart Shakespeare like no one’s business. Plus pretty much the only reason I’m taking grad class is to talk about Infinite Jest, which is itself an adaptation of Hamlet. So it should be a good time, though I expect to be plenty busy over the next few months.
This assumes, however, that I make it to class in the first place. Because riding your bicycle on a college campus is like courting suicide, or at least imprisonment due to bicycular homicide.
- Students, like students everywhere, have a weird sense of invulnerability,
- And also are so terribly me-centered that their surroundings are more of an afterthought,
- And which really, what surroundings? since everyone has their heads down as they text away on cell phones
Yesterday a young woman actually veered in my direction as I was less than twenty feet away simply because she was intensely focused on typing on a small touch-screen. I thought for sure there’d be blood on the sidewalk, the only variable being whose blood it would be. But thanks to one of my classic Bo’s-super-fast-reflexes-save-someone-else-from-imminent-harm-while-at-the-same-time-causing-himself-not-so-much-harm-as-simply-embarrassment maneuvers, everyone was just fine.(3)
Hopefully today won’t include a repeat.
- Which really I guess doesn’t surprise me that much. Lately I’ve come across so many different kinds of theory that you could examine our most-Millennial USA through the type of theory we embrace. Theory theory, if you will.
- But that’s the point of the course so in +/- sixteen weeks I should know way more.
- With apologies to the dude who got a more-than-he-bargained-for view of my underwear.