The "A" Word

     I have now started a class that I am certain to love: Introduction  to Film Study. How could I not? The class is comprised of the two things I enjoy most-writing, and movies! Not surprisingly, on the first night of class, the “A” subject comes up in a rather roundabout way. Professor is remarking about the glorious, albeit old, solid oak table where we are all seated. It was to be discarded, but he, having an appreciation for its beauty & solid craftsmanship, adopted it. “Class, do you see this beautiful table? Do you know that this table is older than anyone here?”  “Doubtful” I quipped. He (and the youngsters) looked at me with rapt surprise. Oh well, I am used to this by now. I subsequently relate this story to a friend (?) of mine, who shares his take on this scenario with me: “so now you’re not only older than the other students, you’re older than the furniture…”. Don’t let anyone ever tell you that being of a certain age doesn’t require being thick skinned!     

     Last night twenty-something son #2 came over to critique a paper that I wrote for class. While he was over, I pinned him down so he was compelled to read a few passages from my blog. He did find them amusing (no pretense). This confirmed to me what I already knew-that I communicate much more effectively through the written word. What I mean is, I may have the ability to write some jokes, but I could never do stand-up.

Temper Tantrums

     Okay, I am officially too old for fist pounding temper tantrums. My hands are killing me! 

I discovered the problem with the school website the other day…I needed to reset my password. You could have fooled me! It didn’t say that anywhere! Luckily, web services responded to my panicked plea over the weekend, and I managed to retrieve the information I needed and thereby avoided having a complete nervous breakdown.     

     I was speaking with an acquaintance recently, and low & behold she informs me that she too started college at 50-something. I was impressed and excited at the same time. “Did you earn your Bachelor’s?” She proudly responded that she earned her Master’s, quickly adding that she wouldn’t disclose her age.

“I believe that the older you are, the more impressive the accomplishment” I opined. No dice. She’s keeping me guessing. Not that it matters, really.  In all seriousness, I quite admire this woman, and I conveyed to her what an inspiration I consider her to be. I believe there’s hope for me yet! 

     So last night I was visiting with my sons & their girlfriends, and I was relating a couple of the stories that I have included in my blog. The three of them looked at me as if I had metamorphosed into an alien being. Not even one giggle did I elicit. They didn’t even pretend! I realize that young people have vastly different tastes in music, movies, films, comedy. I hope that their lack of enthusiasm is the result of our age differences, and that my more mature audience finds my stories somewhat amusing. I haven’t had any negative feedback yet…

On Being Technologically Challenged

     Being technologically challenged has caused me to have a meltdown. I need to access the school website to obtain criteria for one of my classes. It’s Saturday afternoon on Memorial Day weekend, and I can’t get in. The site is asking for authentication. As far as I know, I only need my Email address & password, but no matter what I try, I cannot access the required area. This particular application doesn’t offer an option like: “forget your password?”  I am locked out. Period. Do you think there is anyone at the school to contact on a Holiday weekend? Not! Now I am panic stricken, as I have a 5 page paper to write, and I don’t have all the information I need at hand. This frustration caused me to lose my temper, fists pounding, spurting expletives, and the subsequent, inevitable, crying jag. Once I dried my tears, I sought out my neighbor & we went for a long walk, and ultimately, finally, I calmed down. I reminded myself that writing does come easily to me, so I concentrated on other areas of the assignment that I had at my fingertips (and which, thankfully, didn’t require a freaking computer!). I assured myself that I will manage to have the paper completed in time for class on Thursday.
      One of the most frustrating aspects of being an older student is the technology. I can learn it, it just takes awhile. The younger students seem to instinctively understand it. On the other hand, I am able to add, subtract, multiply, divide, spell, and use proper grammar & punctuation, without resorting to electronics. That’s got to count for something!

An Unconventional Student

 

     Fast forward to the end of the semester. I have earned an A in Psych. This was quite a plug for my confidence. As I have previously mentioned, I was a little intimidated at the beginning, since it had been so many years since I had done any studying. I must admit that I study far differently now than I did in my youth. I absorb as much about a subject as I can, the way parched earth absorbs a gentle rain. I read and reread my notes & text and am fascinated by how much I remember & how quickly. It is certainly easier when I embrace the subject, rather than procrastinating

     On to Western Civ 2. This should be a cinch given my head for dates. After introducing himself & taking attendance, Professor "R" asked the class when we had taken Western Civ 1. The responses were typical: last semester, last year, a couple of years ago, 1982. Whiplash! Say what? Professor "R" looked at me with amused bewilderment. “Do you remember any of it?” he asked.  Ha! Only that I got an A!

     I subsequently gave the professor a little of my background, and he indicated to me that lots of women are returning to college after their families are raised. (It is apparent to me that most of them are attending different colleges). My son’s girlfriend also indicated, in all seriousness, that there are plenty of “unconventional students like me" at her college. I never perceived myself as an unconventional student. I have now latched onto that description like an overzealous pit bull. I like to think it lends this combination writer/poet/student a bohemian air!

  

A Closet Writer Comes Out

     I was speaking with a close friend today for the first time in months, and bringing her up to date on what’s been happening in my life since the last time I saw her. This included school of course, and I suggested she might like to read my blog. “I never knew you liked to write”, “D” remarked. “D” has known me since I was three.  How is that possible? I thought everyone knew…perhaps I’ve kept it more of a secret than I realized. Now that I think about it, quite possibly a good number of my friends & family members aren’t aware. I believe it is time for me to come out of my “writer’s closet” and go for it. Better late than never, that’s what I say!  (I always was a late bloomer…).

     When I was in High School, it was apparent that I had a talent for writing, and my teachers recognized this, even if I didn’t. In Junior year, we had an essay to write for English class, and, being the consummate procrastinator even at that young age, I waited until homeroom that morning to hastily put something together. A classmate and dear friend of mine, “KW”, did the same thing (you know what they say about about birds of a feather????) Surprisingly, our teacher loved them both, so much so, that she named us Co-editors of the school newspaper for Senior year. That was quite a coup! We were thrilled beyond words (isn’t that dangerous for a writer?), and embraced the challenge with relish.

     Unfortunately I didn’t save that momentous essay, or many subsequent poems and essays that I composed early on. I can’t imagine why I would ever toss them, (and yes, I would kick my own butt if I could reach it with my foot) but I stopped being so silly in the early 90’s. I now have children’s rhymes, essays, and poetry everywhere. (This is scary, as I consider myself to be an organized individual). I can’t clean out my purse or a drawer without checking every piece of paper (this includes napkins & paper towels) before tossing it. (I don’t always have a pad at the ready when an idea strikes). It is a goal of mine, in the not too distant future, to have it all organized by genre, typed, and ready for submission. One of my favorite authors, Elizabeth Gilbert, suggests to aspiring writers that they not leave their work sitting in a drawer. I hear you, Liz !!!!!

In Keeping With the Retirement Theme...

I wrote this poem recently for a coworker's retirement. I wanted to share it.

Retirement

Retirement starts and the fun begins.

You’re embarking on a weekend that never ends.

No more nine to five. No more routine.

No more manufacturing in a plant that’s lean.

Say good bye to traffic. Bid farewell to gridlock.

Now it’s time to throw away that damned alarm clock.

Say hello to easy chairs, good books and sleeping in,

to having lots of time to spend with family and with friends.

It’s time to kick your shoes off, to sit back and relax.

You will no longer be a slave to the telephone, Email or fax.

If you find you miss us or you just want to say hi,

you can look us up on Facebook! We’re on it all the time!

Please do not forget all of the friends you leave behind.

Remember all the lunches, Christmas parties, and good times.

Keep in mind all of the years that we have spent together.

Please take time to keep in touch and we’ll stay friends forever.

We all have often heard it said that parting is such sweet sorrow,

But you will have forgotten all about work when it’s this time tomorrow!

The Three R's-Retirement, Registration, & Rainbows

     You remember my little classmate "A", who photographed my essay with his phone? Well, recently we were discussing the degrees we are pursuing. He's working on a teaching degree, and as you know, my major is communications. With a look of earnest curiosity befitting his youth, he queried: "Marcy, what do you plan to do with your degree?" 

(You mean, what do I want to be when I grow up?) 

“Are you kidding?" I quipped, "by the time I finally earn it I'll be retired!” He looked about as surprised as a baby with a Jack in the Box. He apparently hadn't considered that notion...I guess the subject of retirement is an uncommon topic of conversation among my fellow students. 

     Did I tell you that I ran into my 50-something neighbor at registration for next semester recently? No, it's not what you’re thinking…she was registering her son for classes.

     A strange thing happened that day when I left the school after registering. It was storming, and on the way to my car I saw a rainbow. I hadn’t seen one in years, and interpreted it as a good omen. Considering all the A's I've been earning, it appears to be so.

Tid-bits

     One thing I really like about today’s technology is the ease with which I can go back and make corrections, or revise & improve upon my work. I remember (vaguely) what it was like when we had to use typewriters and white-out. I find  Microsoft Word to be a Godsend. I even use it for homework, rather than hand writing everything. I am loathe to admit it, but writer’s cramp has become an issue. On more than one occasion I have seen Professor C watching with amusement as I flex my cramped hand during an exam. My only solace is in knowing that her turn will come, hopefully sooner rather than later. God, I wish I were ambidextrous….How convenient would that be?

     Professor C sometimes drifts off topic in class, and tonight was one of those nights. Her topic was Social Security. “You know, class, Social Security will not be around when you are ready to retire”. Before I could catch myself I blurted out that this will not be an issue for me….. My youngster classmates found this to be hilarious. I will be laughing all the way to the bank a few years from now (and no, I won’t admit to how many). She who laughs last, laughs best.

    

The Quintessential Role Reversal

     In a true role reversal, I have enlisted my sons to “help me with my homework”. Twenty- something son #1 has spent numerous evenings quizzing me for my frequent psych tests. I have surprised myself (and him too, I think) with the speed of my responses to his questions, and also the fact that I have answered them all correctly. He’s been rewarding me with an hour of TV afterward!

      Twenty-something son # 2 has been enlisted to tutor me in Algebra. This should prove to be a challenge for him. I struggled with Algebra back in the day when all of my brain cells were not only present, but  fully functional.  

     Thirty-something son is assisting with logistics. He’s purchased & set up printers and scanners, installed software, and then demonstrated (repetitively) proper use for his technologically impaired mother. He has since moved out of town.

     It has taken all three of my sons to walk me through my first term paper. When I turned it in, Professor C was shocked when I told her that I had used books for my research. I actually went to the library & checked out 5 books! What’s wrong with that? Too antiquated, I guess. I was subsequently compelled to use the school database for my 2^nd term paper. Professor C had the good (?) fortune to tutor me in that little endeavor…I hate to see a grown woman cry!

Let's Get Serious For a Moment

     So far I have merely been taking a humorous look at my college experiences, but there is a serious side to this. You may wonder, why college? Why now? I am divorced. My sons are grown & independent. I have lots of friends & an active social life. Yet at 50-something, I am revisiting a place where I haven’t been in 30 years. Perhaps I want to correct past mistakes. Maybe I want to prove to myself that I can do this. But it’s more than that. I also want to set an example for my sons. I want to show them that I am resilient, that I have drive, that it is possible to overcome adversity, and that it is never too late too start over. Those mistakes I mentioned earlier, well, my sons were witness to some of them. I hope they have learned from me that we are all human, we all make mistakes, but that we have a responsibility to learn from our mistakes, and to try to do better next time. I also want to demonstrate that a quest for self improvement is something that we should keep alive in us, always.

     Additonally, I want to do things differently from my own parents. I am determined to make a life for myself and not become a burden to my sons. I vow not to be a meddling parent. My sons are adults, and they are entitled to live there own lives, as am I.      

     While initially I was insecure about returning to school, I have totally embraced my role as student, and it has become my main focus. I have a reawakened thirst for knowledge, but I also have a deep understanding of having spent a lifetime working at a job, rather than having pursued that which I loved, and love still today-writing. With maturity comes a whole new perspective. Granted, since I returned to school my social life has taken somewhat of a hit, but after having been a working mom of three, I am experienced at multitasking, and I am capable of doing a balancing act.

    So here I am on a Saturday night, surrounded by my books and my pooch, happily typing away at my computer. For me, it doesn’t get any better than this, and I am grateful.

Cell Phone Surprise

     I am compelled to touch on the “cell Phone” topic again, as I’d thought I’d seen it all. I hadn’t. First of all, one of my fellow students, a 20-something woman, is so attached to her cell phone, that she carried it in her palm while turning in a paper to our professor. That little trip took all of about 20 seconds!!!  Does it get more bizarre than this? It does. The young man who sits next to me in class (he sits in the first row, like me and all of the other serious students) asked to see an essay I’d written, as he was confused by his own notes. I didn’t have a problem with this, as he applies himself like I do, and we’d compared notes before. I met him after class in the student commons, handed him my paper, and before I had a clue what was happening, he took a picture of it with his phone! ”What are you doing???????”  He asked to look at my paper, not take a picture of it!  “Oh, don’t worry", he explained, "I’m not going to plagiarize…” I was absolutely incredulous, and insisted that he erase it immediately after reading. (Wasn’t that the name of a movie-“Erase After Reading”? Oh no, it was “Burn After Reading”, as in books. Aren’t they nearly obsolete now too?)  

     When I came home I excitedly conveyed this occurrence to my 20-something son, who felt I was completely overreacting. He informed me that the people where he works take pictures of their schedule with their phones. No sympathy here. I need to discuss this with another 50-something, so I tell my friend “K”. She wasn’t nearly as surprised as I was, and enlightened me as to how young people take pictures of their parking spots and all kinds of things that our generation wouldn’t even think of.  (There’s that age thing again).

     Still I wonder, isn’t there some kind of cell phone/photo etiquette that would apply here? Or do I need to copyright my essays?