Sorry for the day’s absence — no excuse, sir. Dr. Frank came up for some visitin’, and that’s always a distraction, plus he bogarts the computer. Not really, but I tease him about it, and it’s so gratifying to watch a PC user explore the mysteries of a wireless broadband Mac network. Of course I had to show him the iTunes Music Store, spending a buck to demonstrate how quickly we could get Prince’s “D.M.S.R.” into the house. If he makes the Switch, I want a commission.
Today, in history class, the professor made a passing reference to burlesque. “If you don’t know what that is,” he said, “think Deja Vu.” Deja Vu is a semi-famous string of strip joints around here, but man, talk about taking nothing for granted — not knowing what burlesque is? I really do feel old sometimes, sitting in these classes. Last week, when my pathetic fiction was being workshopped in English class, everyone tripped over a passage where I’d called a fox “Sly Reynard.” Precisely one student out of 20 understood the reference. The teacher didn’t even get it. Like Jon Carroll, I felt hair growing out of my ears and wondered if my breath smelled like denture cream.
Now I see why everyone makes such a big deal out of that list that comes out every summer. Last night, at dinner, one of our fFs, the youngest among us, revealed she’d never used a typewriter. She knew what they were, of course, but she’d always written on a PC. Amazing.
Just writing about this makes me feel about a thousand years old. So I’d better take my teeth out and go to bed.