Part deux

That reminds me of John Scofield, who, in plugging his new album in Telluride this summer, explained that “Überjam Deux” is French for “Überjam Two.”

Arctic surge, part deux: Not a lot has happened in the time since I last posted. I think it’s been less than a week. The arctic surge is coming back, so that’s one “part deux” element of life in Madison right now. It should be milder this time, which is the opposite of what people had been predicting. Still, it’s going to be really cold on Monday. Our high is below -10, so that’s never fun. Despite this, the car has still been starting. Unbelievable.

DMV, part deux: Speaking of the car, I have to go to the DMV on Monday to get Wisconsin plates for the car. Wisconsin plates are kind of weird (see below), and it’s the DMV, so I’m not incredibly thrilled about the outing, but certain things must be done.

Wisconsin’s license plates look like they were designed in the 80s, when clipart and bold sans-serifs with inconsistent kerning were both in vogue. Oh, wait, they were. At least there’s no gradient.

Speaking of license plates, I saw another Maryland driver on my walk home from work yesterday. Threw me for a loop. He had the newer ugly “War of 1812” plates, too. A recent coastie transplant, just like me? The world may never know.

Cool [male] English teachers, part deux: If we were to include all English teachers, this would be part trois, but there’s a pattern I have to uphold here. Sorry, Ms. Gross. Anyways, my English professor at MATC is really great. I found out recently that he’s a published poet and author, and he’s actually really, really good at that. I’m looking forward to the semester. Plus, he also teaches English 2 and a bunch of lit classes (including Poetry) so I might knock out a few more gen-eds at MATC with him. I think I hit the jackpot. He doesn’t even use a different textbook for English 2. I would save even more money.

Here are two of his pieces I particularly like: Sestina Aguilera and Ten Poems on Marriage Plus a Wish. Here’s something from Ten Poems:

I will say something to my wife like:
I too was once a crawfish. Never was I freer from sin!
And my wife, like a great sea, will ignore me.
This ignoring washes over me. It forms the heart of us.
It’s how we keep the love alive!
Sometimes I bring the weed-whipper into the house.
I start weed whipping the furniture.
Why? My wife screams. Why?
We have to try, I offer.
You’d think a man like me would have more friends.
So little dignity between us.
It’s true, incidents like these
are quarrelsome, but each quarrel
affords an opportunity for something new.
Thus, I’m piling stones in the corners of our house.
It takes courage.
My wife knows better than most.
I’m sure you’ve been asked the question:
Who, dead or alive, would you like invite to dinner?
Of course I would invite Jesus.
Get to the bottom of that “loaves and fishes” thing.
What kind of bread was it? Organic? Stone ground? Artisanal?
Were those fishes pond raised or wild caught? Fried? Or baked in salt?
Basically what I’m saying is this:
I’d invite Jesus to dinner so I could bore him to death.

He walked into class the other day with a knee brace on – when someone asked what happened, he said this: “my knee was hurt by man’s oldest folly. Man plays basketball. Man decides to go for reverse layup instead of conventional layup. Man fails at said layup and lands on knee. Man limps home in the bitter cold to his comforting wife, who shakes head disapprovingly at man’s incompetence. Man gets a knee brace.”

Cool guy.

In his English class I also found out that people in Wisconsin legitimately think that the a in “bagel” is pronounced like the a at the beginning of “Adam.” I don’t get it. (My professor is from New Hampshire, but this was said by someone who works at a bagel place.)

Maybe Britta from Community is a Wisconsinite. I’ll leave you with that.

I lived in New York for two years, Troy, I know what a bAgel is.


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