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Tuesday, 4 October 2011

What was I doing?

The seminar room was big and dusty, with pillars in unusual places.

It was a bit gloomy and the participants had to squint to make out the features of their neighbours.  I was seated at the back of the room, against the side wall.  There was some sort of display stand behind me.  Because of the peculiar shape of the room, my row of seats had only 3 of these uncomfortable "conference hall" chairs from the 80s.  The chair next to me was empty, but a man sat on the last and outside chair.

I could hardly hear the speaker, I guessed he was droning on about some amazing research into some pedagogical technique, it was an education-based seminar after all


It did make a nice break from teaching for a couple of days.

I still couldn't make out what the idiot was saying, so I examined the exhibits arrayed in glass cases along the walls.  The glass was so dirty the contents were just some vague shapes, but the shapes themselves were a bit alarming.  I could swear that that one had some sort of two-headed chimp, or possibly a boy.

4 people dressed as gorillas, but with white stripes along their fur, were setting up at the display stand behind me.  They were trying to keep it quiet, but when one dropped a metal pole on his foot, thought I recognised a Coatbridge accent.  Glasgow Gorillas?  I still couldn't figure out what the stand was for, neither could I make out what the idiot on the podium was still rambling on about.

You lookin' at Me pal?

The guy seated in my row made some sort of noise, whether a grunt of approval or disagreement with what was being said I wasn't sure, but the grunt sounded American.


If there was one thing worse than an educationalist, it was an American educationalist.  Trapped in their ivory towers of academe, desperately publishing loads of horrendous, pretentious crap in the hope that some day they might just gain tenure, and it was me and my fellow foot soldiers on the chalkface who would be given these pearls of wisdom and told to make them work with our kids in the classrooms.
More Bullshit

He turned to me and smiled.

"That guys talking a load of bull"

Yep, I was right, he was American.

"Hmmm" I gave a non-committal answer, because I still didn't know what the bugger on the podium was saying.

"Now he's saying that the best method of class control is Pasteurella pestis"  Bit drastic wouldn't you say?

"Bit old fashioned" I reply,
"The causative organism for the Black Death was renamed Yersinia pestis in the last century"

He looked at me with some respect I thought, but also a bit questioning.

"Interesting you should know that" he said,
"This seminar is for Technology and Classics, I didn't think there were any Biologists here"

"My first degree is in Microbiology"  I tried for a certain nonchalance in my reply, I knew there weren't that many teachers with two separate multi-disciplinary degrees, and I don't like showing off too much.

"Oh?" he said.
"What's your other discipline?"

Behind us, I was aware that the Glasgow Gorillas had now put on rainbow-striped Ugg boots. and were all dancing rhythmically to some unheard music.

What was my other degree in?

I couldn't remember

The American was beginning to look suspicious.

Who couldn't remember what their bloody academic qualifications were in?

What sort of idiot did I look in his eyes?

"Archeology" I blurted.

"Really? "  His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Tell me" he said, "What were the dynasties of the Mesapotamian Kings?"

The Glasgow Gorillas were now pounding on the exhibition with steel rods, producing a steady, rapid beat.

"I don't f*cking want to" I screamed...

I woke up to the steady bleating beep-beep of the alarm clock.

It was 5:43, my normal time.

My brain began to re-integrate and the days tasks and problems appeared in my mind like surfacing whales.

I was going back to school today.

"I don't f*cking want to" I screamed...


  1. Well done but my dream was better. I dreamed of Jenny Schubert who I knew quite well in the early 1980's (before I met The Old Girl). Jenny was quite beautiful and once dressed as a bunny girl and leapt out of a huge cake for a surprise birthday for me. She....)

  2. The Wine Comeinyourpants, was this another dream? Perchance a wet one?

  3. 5.43? You get up at very precise times down there :)

  4. TC: I've often had dreams like that. But even I don't write about them. This is a family blog y'know.

    Richard [of RBB]: You're just as bad.

    looby: Yep, I'm a teacher (subtext; complete control freak)

    Terry: Who has a phobia? What type of phobia, apart from disliking fakes?

  5. Yeah Terry, it's really normal to set your alarm to 5.43.

  6. I really did dream of Jenny (not Jeannie - for the TV trivia addicts). It was not a sexual dream. She was nice as was my dream.


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