Today I was sitting in class bored out of my mind. This is the same class in which I exposed my age, so I pretty much keep to myself. The brief break in monotony came when Berkeley showed why its Berkeley. Our professor is genuinely enthusiastic about the topic on which he was speaking (not sure what it was…). The only problem is his excitement resembles that of a 103 year-old, one-legged burn victim with Alzheimer’s. Sure he can get excited, but he doesn’t quite demonstrate his zeal the way I would, ya know? So while he’s exhibiting his passion for polls to a room full of blank stares, a man seemingly infected with turrets out on Sproul Plaza begins screaming, barking and singing profanities, political platform and Posh Spice’s solo album—and no one acknowledged either the seemingly comatose state of our ancient professor or the Wildman outside! I was sitting in the middle of the room desperately trying to make eye contact with someone who was in agreement that what we were witnessing was odd, if nothing else. Unfortunately, the only acknowledgement I got was from the musty European girl. Eew. I was amused by the paradox, but perhaps only someone with compulsive observation tendencies could notice.
What did not go unnoticed was the sudden cacophony that was 50 Cent’s hit single “In Da Club.” Phones going off in class is not an irregular occurrence—and 50 Cent is a cross-cultural icon. However, I was flabbergasted to see Woodrow Wilson’s childhood friend pull out the cellular device from his pocket. He mumbled “Oh, I forgot to turn this thing off.” So he opened it to press what I thought was the power button. No—he answered the phone! Our tuition dollars are paying for his personal phone conversations. He has billable hours! After a brief conversation with his son, Professor Sails told an (painfully unfunny) story about how his phone rang in a meeting once and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. He laughed (one of those silent laughs where just the jaws move); we stared.
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