Today is the anniversary of my mother's death in 1993. It's hard to think that she's been gone for 15 years now. I was speaking about her to my students yesterday, telling them what a tragically wasted life she'd had because she was addicted to drinking. The inspiration was not the anniversary of her death, but the many essays I'd just finished reading that were arguing for lowering the drinking age to 18. I honestly don't care one way or another, primarily since I think the only benefit will be the decriminalization of drinking between ages 18-21. I doubt that much else would change. Students argue that binge drinking in college would end. Yeah. Right. I don't think they believe me when I tell them that at least one out of five of them is likely to be an alcoholic and that some of them probably already are alcoholics.
Esteemed Spouse is escorting me to his departmental Christmas party tonight. I'm going because I know what gets said about wives/husbands who don't accompany their spouses to departmental functions. Besides, after grading papers like a maniac all week, I could use a couple of hours where I don't have to be bent over a stack of essays. I'm not looking forward to putting up with the conversation these business-oriented folks will have, but maybe I can stir things up by saying or doing something provocative. I don't know what, but something is bound to come up that a liberal arts type (me) will see differently from the business types.
There's much more to write about concerning my week, but I'll save it for tomorrow. Right now, I suppose I'd better do the world a favor and brush the Reuben sandwich detritus from my teeth.
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