This weekend, the beautiful Rhys bravely recorded herself while she whispered sweet nothings into my ear. By sweet nothings, I actually mean a vile joke about a penguin and his ice cream misfortunes. And by my ear, I mean the ears of all her listeners. Whatever.

Right-O. It got me thinking. I don’t have much to offer myself — no animal jokes, sadly — but wouldn’t it be nice if I could record a little something on my violin?

Never again.

Within half an hour, I had managed to take one of my favourite pieces for violin and piano: the famous Meditation from Thais, an opera by Jules Massennet, and rip it to shreds.

Creaky notes, bad rhythm, throw in a howling dog and an obese elephant, and you’ll only have scratched the surface of my dismal performance.

I only included about a tenth of the piece because beyond that point you’ll start hearing some strange things. Things like the booing of my neighbours, the sound of rotten eggs pounding against my window, and my own eloquent cussing.

I swear, it sounds better with the piano. And with a better violinist.

And because at this point I can’t possibly humiliate myself any further, I’ve decided let you guys have a listen to how the piece should actually sound at the hands of a competent musician.

It’s truly wonderful, n’est-ce pas? But the bastard gets a full orchestra backing him up — honestly, nobody can sound shitty with that much musical support.

Give me a fuckin’ triangle, and I’ll own this piece.

For those of you who are interested, I played this piece about half a decade ago at the Kiwanis Music Festival in Ottawa, accompanied by my lovely sister on piano. I took first place and also won a musical scholarship that year.

Sadly, it’s all gone downhill from then.

9:00 – Period 1: Calculus (Related Rates)

I just finished telling a group of kids one of my stories and one of the girls couldn’t help herself.

“That’d be so cool!”, she blurted out, amidst a sea of giggles, “I wish some guy would take me on a date and give me a 2 hour lecture on math.”

I don’t know whether it was the enthusiasm in her voice or the utter sincerity of her tone, but it was without the doubt, the hottest thing a girl has said to me. Ever.

9:00 – Period 1: Calculus (Related Rates)

…I spun around and eyed them suspiciously.

“Why…,” I asked with a curious raise of one eyebrow, “do you all seem so glum this morning?”

That seemed to ease them up. While most of the class chuckled, someone yelled out “We’re scared” from the back of the room. Not knowing what exactly to say, I simply grinned and got back to the lesson.

9:00 – Period 1: Calculus (Related Rates)

…and because I know you’re all so anxious to find out what I do…”, I said while writing on the blackboard.

I turned around and noticed one of the students at the back of the room with his eyes wide open. I could have sworn his complexion was a peculiar shade of green.

“I am so dropping Calculus,” he said, his adam’s apple bulging as he gulped.

10:20 – Period 2: Calculus (Related Rates)

“You need to really make sure you always do this step,” I emphasized while my back was to the students, “or else Ms. [S] will totally own your ass.”

I clapped my hand to my mouth as half the class gasped and the other half laughed.

“I apologize,” I said, mortified, “I’m unnecessarily vulgar to all the kids in University, but I was hoping I’d be able to keep a clamp on my yap here in High School.”

10:20 – Period 2: Calculus (Related Rates)

I was still writing when Ms. [A] walked in and handed me a Styrofoam cup of expensive Starbucks coffee.

“Awww Miss, you’re too kind,” I said, frowning at my yellow-chalked-covered hands.

“Don’t worry Phil”, she said, “I have a box of Wet Ones in my class.”

The kids in the front giggled.

“…For his hands!”

They giggled even harder as I shot them one of my oh-grow-up looks.

10:20 – Period 2: Calculus (Related Rates)

Ms. [S] left the room and the atmosphere relaxed considerably.

“Can you come back and teach again?”, someone near the front asked.

“Just teach the entire course!”, someone at the back yelled.

The rest of the class chimed in noisily. I smiled politely and got back to the lesson, but with an odd, pleasant feeling in the pits of my stomach.

10:20 – Period 2: Calculus (Related Rates)

They were loud now. Much too loud.

“Guys!”, I yelled out with as much sternness as I could muster.

Several people Shhhhed loudly, but the rest of the class refused to be daunted.

“Next question is part of your Quiz!”, I tested gingerly.

No effect.

“I’m giving you a Test!”, I tried again.

No effect.

“I’m failing all of y’all”, I screamed.

No effect.

Lunchtime

The bell rang.

To my delight, half a dozen students crowded around me, refusing to listen to their hunger pangs and the calls of their friends.

They asked me what grad school was like. They asked me about studying Business at Carleton. They asked me how many chicks I saw in math. They asked me if it was okay to do this and that.

They asked me to come back again.

Lunchtime

“Sure I’d love to have him teach some of my classes,” Ms. [K] said to Ms. [S], “but we can’t very well leave him alone, right? He’s not a qualified teacher.”

“No,” I interrupted them, “but you can take frequent and extensive washroom breaks.”

Thanks Dave for keeping me entertained. Dave sent me this link to 33 6-word-stories written by various authors and celebrities.

For my former high school mates: Guess who’ll be lecturing two Calculus classes Friday mornings at the ol’ stompin’ grounds? I know given my schedule and responsibilities, it was really stupid of me to take on this job, but I’ll deal.

I wonder if the twelfth graders will remember me.

Hot Coffee Girl, my friend with the fabulous jugs, posted this touching and thoughtful video. I was going to voice my disagreement with some of the comments made but one of the visitors (an advertising guru, apparently) beat me to it.

Watch it. It’s good. Then draw your own conclusions.

Edit: Fixed the linky

masa – new york

“Lunch or dinner for two can easily exceed $1,000.”

New York Times

What goodies do I have in my mailbox?

To: Phil
From: Dave
Date: October 19, 2006
Subject: None

Craaaaaaazy

- Dave

To: Dave
From: Phil
Date: October 19, 2006
Subject: Re: None

Get yourself a rich girl, stupid. I’m not taking you to any of those places.

- Phil

To: Phil
From: Roselle
Date: October 16, 2006
Subject: Your Post

Phil would you like me to tell you that you have a nice ass? Phil, you have a nice ass! And I’m sure, had you been standing up with your taut and well-muscled derrière in their line of vision, they would have oogled over you as well.

And puhleese…don’t hate on the teenagers…you’re like ten months removed from them.

To: Roselle
From: Phil
Date: October 16, 2006
Subject: Re: Your Post

In years, perhaps. But I’m so much more wise than that.

To: Phil
From: Roselle
Date: October 16, 2006
Subject: Re: Re: Your Post

Gimme a break…like you don’t check out women’s behinds and have that EXACT same dialogue, if only with the interlocutor that resides within your head?!

To: Roselle
From: Phil
Date: October 16, 2006
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Your Post

I most certainly do not.

…okay, maybe only sometimes.