FFWD Weekly
Copyright © 2000. All Rights Reserved

Good Listener by Ian Doig Have you noticed a chilly feeling of dread sneak up your spine as you ready yourself to leave the house these late summer mornings? As an experienced armchair psychologist, let the Good Listener explain away these mysterious, tingly creeps. Your nervous system, dear friend, is steeling itself against that which it has been subjected to each fall for so much of your life. You are either actually going back to school – elementary, post secondary, bartending – or your poor old subconscious is shuddering from years of conditioning the way Pavlov’s dogs salivated come the tinkle of the dinner bell. If you’re the latter, relax and take comfort in the fact that you are free from the shackles of academia and are now a smart ’n’ shiny cog in The Machine. If you are the former, shouldn’t you be studying right now? The University of Calgary campus this day is streaming with returning students. The trees are doing their colourizing duty in the warm fall sun. There is a lot of socializing and laughter on the grounds. Every other conversation starts "How’re your classes" or "Hey man, how’re ya doin’?" Two 18-year-old women stroll down through the crowd past the large, metal pinwheel sculpture long ago nicknamed The Prairie Chicken. The grassy hill underneath it is covered with cross-legged students. "What’s this thing called?" one of the two women wonders aloud. "The chicken?" "Yeah," nods her friend matter-of-factly. Budding art history majors? If you like this, you’ll love Da Vinci’s Smile Face – previous student nickname: If You’re Enigmatically Grinnin’ You’re Winnin’! The cheapest joke in the world, perhaps the universe, is the one where a guy visits an institute of higher learning in search of scholars ironically saying or doing the unscholarly. Good Listener would never stoop to such – "Hit my dog in the head last night," says a loud, grinning gal to a friend. "Awwwww," says the friend. "She was pissin’ me off," says grinnner. "Awwwww," again. There’s no veterinary program here, but thankfully there is Behavioral Sciences. The MacEwan Hall students’ centre building sits roughly in the middle of the U of C campus. Students come here to eat, drink and take a break from school work. Though most (one hopes) don’t think that hitting the dog is smart, they do think it’s a great place to gear down on the heavy thinking and catch up with friends and classmates back from summer break. It’s as good a spot as any to spy on the great minds of tomorrow. So what do students talk about on their first day back in the halls of learning? "So she’s like, ‘I haven’t had sex in a year and a half,’" giggles an excited young woman in a sweatshirt. "And he’s, ‘Oooooh.’ And I’m, ‘Don’t scare him off!’" A small group nearby are playing cards. A tall guy sits straight up, hand above his head he points to his lap and says aloud to the room, "Who wants my dink? Naked right here!" They laugh and no one takes notice. Two ships have passed in the night. Three well-dressed gals have books open on their table. They sip soda pop. It is far too noisy here to study. A fourth squeezes up next to the most studious of them, dropping her book bag down with a thud. "How are your classes?" "Good." "What you taking?" "Bio and zoology. How are your classes?" "Oh, good. What are you working on?" The studious book-learner flips a couple of pages. "I have to translate this column to English. I’ve been reading the same freakin’ page for an hour and a half! I wanna go to a party!" Coincidentally that tall young man two tables over is having a party in his pantaloons. Alas, synchronicity takes a holiday and the four leave. "It’s a long story," explains one member of a group of guys who’ve just sat down. "We were all drinking one night. We’re at my parent’s place, they’re outta town. We got plastered two nights, next night we decided to play paint ball." Not quite the carpe diem Robin Williams had in mind in a certain dead poet movie. An earnest young woman has overheard both conversations. "Well," she says to a friend, "I have a shitload of homework, man." I couldn’t agree more. Carpe shitload!

| Back To This Issue Table of Contents | Back To Main Index |