The title quote is attributed to Mark Twain.
Was just sitting here this evening watching a couple more of Dr. Sadler’s videos as I’ve grown fond of doing, sampling a bottle of wine that turns out to taste straight-up nasty, and it all got me reflecting back on a stupid story I don’t recall sharing on here before.
Back in college I didn’t get into the subject of philosophy. The main reason was because it tended to be taught in such a disconnected, high-above-you-naive-students sort of way that I couldn’t relate to and or my mind around the material. And it didn’t help that the first course I signed up for proves to not be a good introduction at all (probably should have taken Intro to Philosophy first, but the university didn’t list that as a prerequisite for this course, oddly enough) and was taught by a snooty, fast-talking Brit with a definite chip on his shoulder. The course was Philosophy of Religion and it went completely over my head. I remember sitting in class for the first few weeks, trying to follow along and feeling way out of my element while watching my classmates confidently acting as if they grasped what was going on. And in there was this cute guy a row over who kept checking me out, making me feel doubly shy about raising my hand to ask for clarification.
And then…one day I showed up to class after a very long night of drinking and partying. Not too surprising for someone in their early 20s, but on this particular day, come to find out, I apparently was still drunk and magically decided it was a good idea to raise my hand for the first time in there. The internal dialogue that ensued remains blazed in my memory where one side of me knew better and barked for me to put my hand down, but of course the lack of inhibitions kept it up in the air until the professor finally called on me. I don’t recall exactly what I said, but it was gibberish either way so it doesn’t really matter. A bunch of “ya knows” and “hey mans” and other such hippy-ish stutterings without making a single intelligible point. Oh yeah, super embarrassing. And when I looked over at the cute guy in the next row he had a frozen look that made it clear beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was a flaming moron. Flaming. But so did everybody else, including the professor who just stood their dumbstruck by my blatant idiocy. I actually wanted to further announce that I was altered just so they’d realize it wasn’t my faulty intellect alone that was to blame, but thankfully I shut up and laid my head on my desk and decided to give up.
Remember seeing the guy in the next row later on the bus on the way to the lot where my truck was parked and gave him a sheepish grin to which he looked back with utter disgust. I dropped the class that same afternoon.
Dumb story. But other than a few critical thinking courses, that was enough to keep me out of philosophy courses for the duration of my time at that university. Ha Still not sure how tequila managed to stay in my system that many hours later and manipulate my arm to shoot up like that, and I never had any similar issues in any other courses, not even physics. *shrugs* Probably wouldn’t have been quite as unexpected had I not been a nontraditional student a few years older than my classmates. But ah well. Such is life.