OK, I’ll admit it. I haven’t been blogging because I’ve been wandering the campus, kicking piles of leaves and brooding. Not to mention indulging in the traditional end-of-term rituals — big gatherings at restaurants with pushed-together tables, and cookies and soda in creative-writing class, along with the festive announcement that the teacher’s husband won a big Hopwood award. The heat of last weekend has abated for more seasonal temperatures, but I’m back on the bike again, which always gives me an excuse to stick around; the last mile is all uphill, and I look for every excuse to avoid it. But! Quadriceps! They’re emerging from the winter fat again, so it must be true: The world is coming to life again.
Yes, but it’s dying, too. Today’s was the last Daily of the term, or close. The graduation issue was steeped in nostalgia, prepping the kids for the most important emotion of the rest of their lives. I’m trying to stave it off; the most valuable piece of information I got in the last week was news my fave history prof will be teaching a summer-term class starting the first week in May, which I’ll be able to attend at least a little of — War in the Modern World. I won’t be a Fellow past Thursday, but I figure no one will care if I slip in the back of the lecture hall for a few weeks. I suspect lots of people do this, and as long as they don’t turn in blue books or ask lots of questions, it’s probably possible to get a fairly good seat-of-the-pants education this way.
Someone could make a movie about this. Oh, I forgot: Someone did. A lousy one.