Tag Archives: college instructor

Famous last words

In my college journalism class, our first assignment was to write our own obituary.

Most students in the class played it safe and wrote rather mundane re-tellings of their life accomplishments. When the instructor gave them back, he chastised us for our lack of imagination.  In our defense, it was the first assignment.

Who knew the guy had a sense of humor?

Well, he would have loved Michael “Flathead” Blanchard. His recent paid obit in the Denver Post was written with extreme entertainment value.  It includes lines like…

Mike wanted it known that he died as a result of being stubborn, refusing to follow doctors’ orders and raising hell for more than six decades. He enjoyed booze, guns, cars and younger women until the day he died.

It makes me sad that I didn’t meet Mike before he died.  The wake sounds like it will be fun, too:

He asks that you stop by and re-tell the stories he can no longer tell. As the celebration will contain adult material, we respectfully ask that no children under 18 attend.

Atta boy, Mike.

Lost and found

There is a well-known Native American proverb that says:

“Don’t judge any man until you have walked two moons in his moccasins.”

I’m not judging — I’m just wondering who is walking around in mine.

You see, last Saturday — like a typical city dweller — I wore flip flops to walk to Boston University and quickly changed into pumps before class began.  Once I was finished teaching for the day, I rushed out to catch my ride back to NYC.

My flip flops?  They lie forgotten…alone in the empty, dark classroom.

Now, the janitor may have seen them later and thrown them away.  Or some cash-strapped student could have picked them up the next day and thought — “Hey, free flip flops!  Score!”

Who knows what adventures my beloved brown havaianas have begun?

Me?  I’m going shopping today.  I need new flip flops.