Crying Till You Laugh

http://sptimes.com/2006/01/22/Floridian/In_his_own_defense.shtml - I want out.

***

If you were to split my chest open, and if the human heart were more than an essential muscle which drives the human body, then you would probably find a little boy, not more than five years of age, walking in the rain, shoes too big for his feet, drenched and crying. He’s trying to wipe his eyes off with his sleeves, stretching over his hands, but no matter how much he wipes, he can’t ever get them dry. Seems like this boy is oh so close to home, but he just can’t see it, because it’s raining too hard. This rain, it hadn’t halted in over a month. Still the skies hang overcast with clouds, but at least the rain has started to lessen. I’m just human. I can’t control the weather, out there or in here.

***

Commercial Law runs from six post meridian to eight post meridian on Mondays and Wednesdays. Good Professor M.v.A. (Hah!) must be powered by a nuclear reactor. His boundless energy and patient enthusiasm make me regret not having taken his classes in the past. Not that the slow process of law school would be rendered easier, safer, less stressful by that one act. On the contrary, I expect Commercial Law as painful as my latest dentist’s appointment.

(Not that the experience caused me physical pain. Aside from a hilarious fifteen seconds when the good doctor attempted to fit a mirror beneath my upper lip and my upper lip kept snapping back, no pain. No, what caused distress was the lack of communication. From when I entered the office proper, to when I left, no one spoke to me. Not the assistant that cleaned my teeth, not the doctor that administered the cavity search. When the assistant wanted me to close my mouth, she took her thumb and index finger and pressed my lips closed. Never once did she ask, she just kept closing them and closing them.

The worst component of the experience was being kept in the seat, waiting in rapt impatience, not knowing that at any time I could have left after the doctor concluded the cavity search. Several minutes I waited, as dentistry individuals walked past the open office. Finally, the assistant walked past, I flagged her down, she took my question, then walked away again. Two more minutes pass before she returns and answers in the affirmative. Yes, great. Another place I don’t want to return to. At this high-paced rate, I will live forever in my Civic, stopping at drive through restaurants for sustenance, modifying the front seat with a large hole and/or septic tank.)

What makes Commercial Law so entertaining (on the scale of general entertainment, two or three. On law school scale, eight or nine.) is the incessant movement Professor M.v.A. executes to and fro. Back and forth, back and forth, expressing himself and the world of Secured Credit, going to the projections to point out relevant schema. At one point, the Good Professor passed the lecturn, only to do a one-eighty while still staring at the assemblage, nearly impaling himself upon the corner of said podium. Wouldn’t you know it, I barked like a geese, half-laughing so loud that I had to catch myself and duck down, while strained, quiet laughter filled the room.

And I don’t even like the Three Stooges.