Good In-tents-ions

I had to explain the concept of a "punchline" to my class today. I ended up expanding this to explaining all kinds of jokes, including puns and limericks. Since I couldn't think of a non-dirty limerick, I had to make one up on the spot.

There once was a man from Seattle
Who couldn't sit straight in his saddle
So he turned to his horse
And said "But of course"
"Why does this have to be such a battle?"

Yes, it's terrible, but pretty good for having been made up in under a minute.

As for puns, I dusted off an old one. Accounts differ to who actually said this, but a few years ago some friends and I were at the U-District Street Fair in Seattle. Street Fair is one of those stupid events where they close down the streets, cart in a couple buses of hippies and juggle sticks, and set up tents to sell stupid crap that nobody needs. While walking around, a friend said "Dude, this street fair is intense. Get it, it's in tents!"

After relating this to my students, and spelling it out on the board, I was rewarded with...blank stairs. When I asked if they understood, it became clear that they did; they just thought I was an idiot. All except my brand new student, who had her head down on the table. She was crying from laughter.

I have a new favorite student.

Jazz Bar

After much wheedling, I agreed to take some of my students to a "jazz bar". By some of them, I mean 8 promised to be there and only one showed up, the ringleader of this little shindig. Fortunately, she dragged along 2 of her friends as well. One of them couldn't speak a lick of English. My roommate deigned to meet us at the club as well, mostly because begged.

I took them to a place called the Cornelia Street Cafe, just off Bleecker Street in the West Village. I had been there for brunch before, but things looked a bit different by nightfall. I dragged them around a few block pretending I knew where I was going, until we hit Gay Street, right next to Stonewall.

The students found this quite hilarious. I should mention, by the by, that the majority of my students from this class are Korean, and found out about the school from their church, and evangelical Korean church, to be exact.

I chuckled nervously and led them on. We passed a sign for karaoke, and my student asked if we could go there later. I told them it probably wouldn't be a good idea without explaining the term "drag queen" to them.

The club, however, was surprisingly a blast. I didn't expect too much from it, but it ended up being a nice spot with decent drinks, and the music was good. Really good, in fact.

After the set, I led the students down to a restaurant that had some more music. I wasn't up to eating though, so I let them be. Turns out that venerable George Garzone, who had regaled us with tales of his learning sax from his Uncle in a pizza kitchen, had a similar idea. I haven't seen the pictures yet, but apparently he was mobbed by Koreans at that very same restaurant. What a coincidence.

Poor Charlie

This is pretty much what I do. Every morning at 6:30 I get on the subway and spend 1 1/2 hours riding to Flushing, out in northeast Queens. After teaching, I take the subway 1 1/2 hours back to Brooklyn. Then, in the evening, I take an hour ride to the Upper West Side, then an hour back. In other words, I live on the subway. I have surprisingly few interesting stories about it. I get to read a lot. I once got to hear a guy "sing" in a monotone chant about how girls loved his "sexy voice". I sure did.

Bonus points if you get the reference in this title. I'll send you a MTA Christmas ornament or something.

Return of the Rat

So, yes, I've decided to write again, thanks to the outcry from you, dear readers.

By "outcry" I mean one person mentioned it a couple of weeks ago.

Anyway, this is where I live now.










And this is the French restaurant I live above. I'm working on locating an accordion. And possibly some Godard films.
















This is Prospect Park. They have this thing called "autumn" here. It's pretty. Other than that I spend a lot of time on trains. But not the good time. The stinky, cramped subway kind. Which I guess kind of is the good kind.

The Arc de Trriomphe

I'm in France! Or, wait crap this is just Grand Army Plaza in Brooklyn. Sorry for the confusion folks. More later.