One of my students wore a Dead Kennedys t-shirt to class today. I asked him if he had ever seen them. He said no, I said "I have". We talked about it after class. I told him I'd seen them in 1984 or so - when he was probably not even born.
So then he asks, "so were you like really into the punk scene?" Yikes! I thought, this must have been how my grandmother felt when we used to ask her to tell us about living in San Diego during World War II.
And the thing is, I thought about it more later, and I can't even remember if I did see the Dead Kennedys in Eugene in the 80's. I don't know if I just know people who saw them so then I appropriated the memory or what. Maybe I should aim higher - start telling people I saw the Sex Pistols at CBGB's. Who's gonna know?
Last night I felt overwhelmed with the start of the new term, feeling like I had no idea how to teach composition. Spent way too much time thinking about it.
But then about ten minutes into class today, it clicked. I was back on the horse.
I like the students in my class that started this week. More classes start next week.
I am reading Robert Lowell's letters and enjoying them. I can't really point to any specific thing he's said that has overwhelming signficance; I just appreciate the sense I get of what his life was like. Residencies at Yaddo, working for the Library of Congress. Running into T.S. Eliot in the elevator (somewhere), visiting Pound in the hospital. And of course the letters to Elizabeth Bishop. Good stuff.
The current controversy in my house is the question of how much Rita really does enjoy wearing the dog sweater. Does she lick you on the face to say "thanks for putting this stupid sweater on me! I LOVE it!" Or does she lick you on the face to say "for the love of God, are you trying to kill me? Get this *#$@ sweater off of me! Do I look like a $*@!! poodle to you?"
The thing is, I'm starting to think Laura might be right. Maybe she does like wearing it.
Note to A: Ran three miles today!