I'm Richard Cohen | 01/29/04

I'm Richard Cohn and believe it or not, I write very intelligent yet completely understandable music theory articles. Why can't my colleagues take my cue?

I thought I'd spice things up tonight by using a =-=-= instead of my usual ===== heading in the date banner. I took the BEM test today to determine how masculine/feminine I am. I scored a 6.2 vs. a 2.7 M/F which apparently makes me a huge man. There were no questions about 'obsessing in the mirror (or 'giving yourself that 'you're so cute look'), bugs, flying bugs, shows that involve any sort of surgery, hearing joints crack or touching fish (live or dead), which is most likely why I scored so manly. The link doesn't calculate you results and Jamie took the answer sheet with her so you'll have to ask her if you want to know how engendered you are. Today was another error ridden day teaching in the lab. I have to go in at 8am tomorrow to install new software so the kids will stop bitching. I'm not sure if I'll be able to fix any of the other problems, though, so I can't guarantee their happiness. I already have a couple students on their 3rd absences. I admit, I skipped a LOT of classes in undergrad but man, not all in a row. Speaking of irresponsible students, I saw Student X today in the office, presumably to discuss his/her grade appeal with the dean. S/he didn't make any eye contact with me and I kept up my crazy conversation. I saw him/her in the library again later. Again, no eye contact. Music Bibliography was cancelled again today because of some recruitment thing we do here where a bunch of community college kids and other faculty from various Florida schools come to draft hot picks. Unlike the University of Minnesota and the University of Colorado football programs, though, I don't think we take them to strip clubs to recruit them. If this is the case, I should have accepted Northwestern's offer because I bet there are a lot more strip clubs there than here. I hung out with Meg afterwards and apparently called Kathy magically via the pocket cell phone. Speaking of people I dated, one of my college girlfriends, Laura and I talked for the first time in a couple years on Instant Messenger. I was somewhat saddened to hear that she's not off at med school but instead living with her mom outside of Chicago but I'm sure she'll make it into wherever she wants to go. My day ended with a yelling match in my last class against some Ethnomusicology undergrad. Apparently, he failed anatomy after mislabeling his ass as his mouth. Because he can tap on the desk with two pencils he considers himself a "percussionist". We were discussing clave patterns and other basic staples of Caribbean music and this snausage decided he could immediately detect any pattern in any song. Sadly, I think he failed theory because he apparently was completely unable to hear cadences, chord changes, phrases and even a basic beat. Rather than admitting he could not discern between a 2-3 clave and a 3-2 clave, he went for an unusual but somewhat interesting tactic seen frequently in theory circles. He start talking using the biggest words he could. In addition to adding roughly sixty words to the English language, he also managed to confuse a palito pattern with a cascara. I know he's out to prove that Mr. Wiggle has been taking its vitamins and I can't help myself but to call him on it. This massive stress he was under, or possibly that he was using a pen and a pencil instead of two matching "sticks" caused neither pattern to emerge from his experienced hands. What did come out, though, pleased all the now-dead composers of the 20th century on a poster behind him. His "pattern" could be likened to the musical version of someone with Tourette Syndrome giving a speech at the Lincoln Center. I think I might have lost points when all I could do was laugh. I hope my abrasiveness didn't cost my job consideration to teach the steel band in the fall but at least I proved I could at least notice when someone was being stupid and embarrass them. Isn't that what teaching is all about? In other news, Jamie made me dinner AND cleaned my kitchen today. Since I have no intention of returning the favor, I wrote her a little song that goes something like this: Jamie, Jamie, Jamie, Jamie, Jamie, thank you for cleaning my kitchen. Jamie, Jamie, Jamie, Jamie, Jamie, Jamie you are so bitchin'. Jamie, Jamie, Jamie you made me squeal because the potatoes were so so so so so so good and so was the veal. Hey now, they don't just give out MM's in Music Composition from FSU, you know. Oh, I'm getting a haircut tomorrow. Seriously. No, seriously. Seriously, seriously.




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