The Caning - January 17, 2007

On Thursday I was to experience the renowned professor's class which I missed Wednesday because of my dental appointment. I have heard many things about him - no two people had the same outlook on his class. These descriptions ranged from hilarious and entertaining to senile and unbelievably forgetful.

I was not let down.

A class where notes do not matter, the discussion is worthless and grading is random, at best, is just about the best description possible. Additionally, the diverse descriptions of the professor all fit the bill.

Considered the father of legal ethics, the professor is the most highly respected and most well-known professor the law school employs, so having him is something about which one should be proud. I may not learn anything, but I sure will get an education.

After nearly 45 minutes of droning students into a deep haze of slumber, the professor stood up from his tall-chair and began to walk to the side of the class room. Halfway to the wall, the professor (who was aided by a cane) stopped mid-sentence turned to the class and said, "my friend brought me this can back from oversees." He continued to explain to us that the cane was made with silver and camel bone.

"Isn't it a spectacular cane?" he asked.

He immediately continued from where he left off.

I turned to Michelle, who was faithfully seated at my side, and asked her if that really just happened. I suppose it did. This is what I have to look forward to, and it only gets worse.

At one point, he said "Listen, breaches…" and paused after breaches to contemplate how he was going to continue. I had been day-dreaming, but my head snapped to attention. He left just enough time after breaches that I thought he had said something very different.

Pray for me.

After the two-hour class came to a close, I had two hours of the class I despise the most. If one-hour yesterday was horrible, I knew that today's two-hour session would ruin my life. And, it did.

The "professor," for lack of a better title, does not call on people unless they raise their hands. This is a steadfast rule, unless, of course, you are me. She posed a question and was met with complete silence. She looked at me… I immediately stared at the ground to thwart her questioning gaze. My attempts to evade questioning failed, and I was picked out of the crowd. Called on once again.

When I attempt to describe to people how often I am called upon by professors, they usually doubt my stories. Well, I have a story to beat all others. I was the first person a professor in a class - in which I am not enrolled - chose to call on this semester. I have no idea how these things happen, but I am the chosen-one in classes in which I am not even present or on the attendance sheet. This is my life.

Shortly after the two-hours of torture, I attended the one-hour civil procedure class which I find rudimentary and easy, and my grades in this class last semester suggest full comprehension. The professor is very animated - as I have stated before, he is a fun professor to learn from.

Lindsay and I missed our weekly Wednesday night "date night" during which we usually watch our "girly" television drama (which shall remain unnamed) and have dinner. We rescheduled for tonight and retrieved food from our favorite Italian restaurant. It was a very nice night that was peppered with the completion of work for tomorrow's appellate advocacy class.

Another day I never have to repeat. Almost done with Week 1.