Last night, Squazz and I had dinner at the beautiful home of one of my oldest friends, her husband and their amazing triplets (one of whom happens to be my godson). Miss Hower and I were suitemates in college, and, as a result, have many tales to tell.
One that we both remember fondly is that we had a composition class together that was taught by the most provincial man I have ever encountered. He rued the fact that we didn't have to wear the lay-type gowns like the students at Oxford. So, instead the boys were required to wear a tie and we girls had to wear a dress. To his class. Every Tuesday and Thursday.
Oh, and he rarely gave anyone a B. So you could pretty much forget about an A. Miss Hower and I, being the
naive brave young ladies we were, forged ahead with this lovely exercise, and in spite of the odds, turned in what we thought were some amazing papers. All came back with a nice big C on the top. If my memory serves me correctly, I believe he used a red magic marker.
Fast forward to a balmy spring evening. Miss Hower and Miss Ives are preparing to write their papers on Robert Frost's "The Mending Wall" which are due the following morning. We have done nothing and it is about 11 pm. Mind you, dear reader, this was back in the day when we had to type our papers. With footnotes. On a typewriter.
We decided first that we would prepare to write. We juiced up on coffee. Plotted and planned. We drank more coffee. And then we poured all our energy and creativity into a masterpiece.
A voodoo doll that would take care of Professor Weatherby and all our woes. We spent a good part of the early morning hours crafting this sucker. And boy, were we pleased. We did all sorts of horrible things to that doll, and I don't know what time it was when we finally tossed it out the window, turned to our IBM Selectrics, and wrote some sort of drivel. Then we showered, put on our skirts and went to class. We got B's. Go figure.
Oh, and Professor Weatherby? I'd like you to know that Miss Hower has written a screenplay that is about to become a fantastic movie. And she wears jeans.