some lights seem eternal
in this springtime of hope

see what pops up

July 06, 2004
I have a story for you today but it will take longer than I have to tell it so I will give you an excerpt from my upcoming book.

Colleges are populated by professors who are great minds that are getting on in age. This does not diminish their intellect but sometimes the English Language has moved on and their lexicon has not.

A long time ago, �pulling a boner,� meant, �making a mistake.� One of my Education professors had missed the change in meaning for our friend the boner and made this abundantly clear during one of our most important classes. This was not an old dirty man but a man known for his professionalism and religious conviction.

I forget the course name and number but the course�s purpose was to discuss the legal responsibilities of teachers and how to respond to common situations that faced teachers in and out of the classroom.

The professor did a decent job of teaching the class because of his years of experience as a teacher, principal, and superintendent as well as the time spent teaching and administrating in college. He had seen and done it all. His teaching was valid because he had made mistakes and dealt with them himself. We were not dealing with clinical case studies but real things that had happened to real people.

On this particular lesson the professor started by reminding us of his wide swath of experience � he had taught many grades and subjects between Kindergarten and High School Seniors, he had administered schools of all sizes and demographics as well as run whole school districts.

He then said, �Sometimes I look back on my days out in the field and ask myself, �John, did you pull every boner you could?� Let me tell you � you can pull a lot of boners when you are a teacher. The older the student is the bigger the boner! When you are the principal, you move up from classrooms full of boners to schools full of boners and as a superintendent of schools the line of boners waiting to be pulled never seems to end��

The entire room was on the verge of laughter and I am fighting tears. He notices that I am near tears and asks, �What is wrong? You look upset.�

I had to think of something. The entire room was looking at me, and this poor man, this decent human being was showing genuine concern and I am laughing at him. I blurted out that my dog had died. I found out before class and that I should probably go back to my dorm and compose myself. He said that I should wait until he gave us the assignment and then I could leave.

My friend, Candace, who was sitting next to me, whispered, �Liar, you just want to go back to the dorm, and pull some boners! Well, you can�t. You just ate and you know you have to wait thirty minutes after eating! You will cramp up.� Without Candace, I would have been a disaster in college.

I was stuck there through three stories of times that he had pulled some poor unsuspecting boner. His vignettes would have been humorous had they not doubled as erotic fiction or sophomoric comedy. However, even the older, non-traditional students were having trouble remaining composed and the building laughter in the room only egged the man on.

By the end of the lecture, this man had humiliated himself and I was on the verge of soiling my pants. I felt really sorry for the man so later that day I slipped a note under his office door that read, �Great lecture today but you might want to google the word, �boner,� and see what pops up.� I wanted that lecture to be last boner he pulled in public.

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