Home Again, Home Again...
Well, after taking a nearly month-long hiatus, I've decided it's time again to give a little attention to my lonely little blog -- the only problem being that so much has happened these intervening days I hardly know where to begin. The two most significant things are the trip to Russia (especially for those of you who are waiting on pictures) and the start of the school semester. So with no further procrastination:
Click here for English Camp pictures!
My take on the beginning of a new school year:
Coming back to PHC this year was one of the most unique experiences I've ever had. I flew back from Russia just in time to pack everything back up again and take a road trip through the old South up to Virginia. It was a road trip in a hurry -- the stops were short and adventure was kept to a minimum; I saw lots of interesting people and places but did not stop to get acquainted. A couple of little stories:
We stopped in eastern Louisiana the first night. The next morning a little Creole lady knocked on our door (mistakenly) with room service breakfast. We told her she had the wrong room and she apologized and left. A little later we ran into her again in the hallway and she chatted with us briefly. There was nothing profound in either conversation, but I remember it because I had never heard anyone before speaking in a Creole accent. I wished I could have talked with her more if for no other reason than to listen to her talk, with that Caribbean-esque cadence.
A necessary part of any proper road trip is lots of meals at Cracker Barrel. Now, I know many of you know my (admittedly Dr. Mitchell-influenced) stance on WalMart and impersonal mass-produced corporate America. I realized on this trip up that one could put Cracker Barrels in the same category -- they all look the same, they all sell the same stuff in the stores, and have the same food on the menus. But the restaurant redeems itself from the WalMart syndrome (even from the Denny's-chain-syndrome), by creating an atmosphere that feels personalized. The restaurant is very consciencious of its "down home" feel, and retains it despite of the fact that all the Cracker Barrels across the country have that same feel, and none of them are, in fact, "down home."
After this celeritous expedition through the South, I found myself in the midst of my third distinct culture of the week -- back at Patrick Henry. First day of classes:
8:00am -- 20th Century Europe
Dr. Sanders: "I've always thought it would be such fun to drop a book on the desk next to a sleeping student. A great, big, fat, heavy book, three inches from his head. How entertaining! Don't fall asleep in my class or you'll get an F in participation. And maybe a book next to your head too!"
9:00am -- Historical Research Methods
I think it is classes like this that turn mostly-normal young people into fuzzy-brained academics. I'm going to start calling it "class in the coffin" -- the smallest classroom on campus; freezing cold; windows shut; and everyone dead from the hour and lack of coffee.
1:00pm -- Greek III
Dr. Noe: "I am now going to hand out your syllabuses."
Micah: "Is that really the plural of syllabus?"
Dr. Noe: "It's a fourth declension noun, so yes, the plural in English would be syllabuses. It is listed secondarily in the lexicon as a second declension noun, so if you wanted to treat it accordingly, the plural would then be syllabi. That would not be incorrect. But its primary listing is as a fourth declension noun."
Class: *jaws drop in silent awe*
Dr. Noe: "And now we're going to review an entire semester's worth of Greek I in the next half an hour. With one hand tied behind my back. You'll be tested over this on Friday, so don't blink."
2:00pm -- Philosophy
It's too early to tell, but I think this class has the potential to be a great class. On the other hand, the fact that we even started a debate on Calvinism on the first day makes me wonder...
Thus went the first day. And things haven't slowed down since. And even though it won't be slowing down until, say, after finals, I hope that a consistent schedule will allow me some time to keep up with blogging on more regular basis.
Another beginning. Another opportunity. A start. With more to come.
Click here for English Camp pictures!
My take on the beginning of a new school year:
Coming back to PHC this year was one of the most unique experiences I've ever had. I flew back from Russia just in time to pack everything back up again and take a road trip through the old South up to Virginia. It was a road trip in a hurry -- the stops were short and adventure was kept to a minimum; I saw lots of interesting people and places but did not stop to get acquainted. A couple of little stories:
We stopped in eastern Louisiana the first night. The next morning a little Creole lady knocked on our door (mistakenly) with room service breakfast. We told her she had the wrong room and she apologized and left. A little later we ran into her again in the hallway and she chatted with us briefly. There was nothing profound in either conversation, but I remember it because I had never heard anyone before speaking in a Creole accent. I wished I could have talked with her more if for no other reason than to listen to her talk, with that Caribbean-esque cadence.
A necessary part of any proper road trip is lots of meals at Cracker Barrel. Now, I know many of you know my (admittedly Dr. Mitchell-influenced) stance on WalMart and impersonal mass-produced corporate America. I realized on this trip up that one could put Cracker Barrels in the same category -- they all look the same, they all sell the same stuff in the stores, and have the same food on the menus. But the restaurant redeems itself from the WalMart syndrome (even from the Denny's-chain-syndrome), by creating an atmosphere that feels personalized. The restaurant is very consciencious of its "down home" feel, and retains it despite of the fact that all the Cracker Barrels across the country have that same feel, and none of them are, in fact, "down home."
After this celeritous expedition through the South, I found myself in the midst of my third distinct culture of the week -- back at Patrick Henry. First day of classes:
8:00am -- 20th Century Europe
Dr. Sanders: "I've always thought it would be such fun to drop a book on the desk next to a sleeping student. A great, big, fat, heavy book, three inches from his head. How entertaining! Don't fall asleep in my class or you'll get an F in participation. And maybe a book next to your head too!"
9:00am -- Historical Research Methods
I think it is classes like this that turn mostly-normal young people into fuzzy-brained academics. I'm going to start calling it "class in the coffin" -- the smallest classroom on campus; freezing cold; windows shut; and everyone dead from the hour and lack of coffee.
1:00pm -- Greek III
Dr. Noe: "I am now going to hand out your syllabuses."
Micah: "Is that really the plural of syllabus?"
Dr. Noe: "It's a fourth declension noun, so yes, the plural in English would be syllabuses. It is listed secondarily in the lexicon as a second declension noun, so if you wanted to treat it accordingly, the plural would then be syllabi. That would not be incorrect. But its primary listing is as a fourth declension noun."
Class: *jaws drop in silent awe*
Dr. Noe: "And now we're going to review an entire semester's worth of Greek I in the next half an hour. With one hand tied behind my back. You'll be tested over this on Friday, so don't blink."
2:00pm -- Philosophy
It's too early to tell, but I think this class has the potential to be a great class. On the other hand, the fact that we even started a debate on Calvinism on the first day makes me wonder...
Thus went the first day. And things haven't slowed down since. And even though it won't be slowing down until, say, after finals, I hope that a consistent schedule will allow me some time to keep up with blogging on more regular basis.
Another beginning. Another opportunity. A start. With more to come.
2 Comments:
it's all true! that's exactly how it happened in dr. noe's class! it was almost as amazing as the time i asked dr. smith about a comma in some random piece of literature...he said..."in turabian, chapter 4, rule 14, i believe this is actually listed as an exception." my jaw is still agape..
micah
i also found the answer to the calvinism vs. armenianism argument...
apathy
embrace it!
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