No actually, he said
his real love was teaching. And he was a good teacher with lots of
examples from real life. I enjoyed the class and could handle the
subject matter. What was
tough to handle was his
insistence on punctuality. The class was at 8 a.m. I was an owl not
a sparrow and as I learned in Psych class it was hard to change from
one to the other. I could stay up every night past midnight studying
my eyes out, didn't bother me at all. But to get up before 10 a.m. I
needed two electric alarm
clocks, set across the room, plus a recurring alarm on my cell
phone.
At
our first class, Jensen
explained. “Timing
is everything. Buying and selling profitably depends on timing,
proposing marriage depends on
timing, and
so does just about everything else.”
He paused and it seemed he was looking right at me. “So I intend
to teach you the importance of time and punctuality. I
will not tolerate late arriving students.”
I managed to make
his class on time through out the semester. I had only one more
class to worry about. The final exam. He said he would lock the
door at 8:01—he'd give us a minute of grace. Generous of him, huh.
It was almost as if he could read my anxious mind, for he added,
“And Mr. Browning, I've noticed that you're always on time,
breathless but on time.” All eyes swiveled to my red face.
He continued, “So
as not to be unduly harsh, in case some of you don't make it on
time, I will open the door to late comers who will be able to take
the test, but I will lower their class grade one level.” I wasn't
sure university policy would let him do that, but I couldn't afford
to take the chance. For me that meant going from a B to a C and
losing my scholarship. I was pretty sure I could get a B on the exam
and I was determined to get there before 8.
But,
as the Scottish poet, Bobbie
Burns, once said, courtesy of Intro. to English Literature, “the
best laid plans of mice and men oft go astray.” I was a man whose
plan was about to go stray. The night
before the exam there was an
ice storm. Cramming as much
economic theory as I could, I heard the wind howling and trees
creaking. Didn't think anything of it. This was Minnesota. Winter
storms happened. I slept peacefully unaware that power
lines went down all around our dorm.
My
electric alarm clocks did not go off. I snoozed
on. Even
if I had known of this
potential disaster, I
wouldn't have worried. I had
my
back up cell phone alarm. I should have worried. I had forgotten to
check that the phone
was fully charged. The charge ran out during the night and it didn't
go off.
My
unconscious or subconscious must have been tracking time because I
jolted awake at 7:30 feeling something was wrong. First, it was very
quiet. No electricity meant no music, TV, hair blowers, or coffee
machines heard through thin walls. I looked at my wrist watch.
Digital and easy to read in my befuddled state. Its battery was
still going strong. One part of my brain was struggling with why I
had overslept and another part was intent on getting me to the exam
on time.
I dressed like
Superman in a phone booth, ran out to my car, turned on the heater,
frantically scraped off the windshield frost, leaped in like a
deployed jet pilot and took off. Class was only 10 minutes away and
my designated parking lot was next to the building. I should make it
in time.
Except. I was
driving down Green street about to cross Livingston on a green light
when a car slammed into my passenger door and spun my Honda around.
A dark maroon Audi had slid through the intersection, unable to stop
at the red light on Livingston.
As my car turned
into a merry go round, I saw my scholarship fly away. Would Jensen
accept an accident as a viable reason for missing an exam. No. I'm
sure he would say when you saw the ice you should have allowed extra
time. And if I mentioned the failed cell phone alarm. He would have
shook his head and said, “You didn't charge your battery? What if
someone was calling with a million dollar job offer?”
The
good news was I wasn't hurt
and the other driver emerged from his car looking OK, too. I dug out
my license and insurance card
and prepared to exchange information with him. I was feeling a
little groggy so when I faced the idiot who ruined my life, I
thought my sight had been affected.
But I looked down at his driver's license and saw he was indeed,
Professor Jensen.
“Browning?” he
read off my license and stared at me. “Aren't you in my econ
class?”
“Yes, sir. I
am. And I'm really, really sorry but I think I'm going to be late
for your exam.”
He
frowned and said, “I think I'm going to be late, too.”
The End
LOL, that's a great story.
ReplyDelete