The pithy, opinionated, and sometimes brutally frank Heinz-Ulrich von Boffke challenges average guys to live a life less ordinary and embrace classic style in the broadest sense. it's time to rise above the trite, the boring, the predictable, the mundane, the banal, and the commonplace. It's time to stop behaving like barnyard animals at the trough and leave behind the perpetually sloppy man-child aesthetic of the last two decades or so. It's time to learn once again how to present and conduct yourself like an adult with some grooming, finesse, and sophistication. And here is where you can learn how.
Wednesday, August 31, 2016
Shopping Cart Style. . .
The fall semester begins today for the 2016-2017 academic year at MSU. The first two of three courses this semester today, Scandinavian and Nordic Cinema plus Henrik Ibsen and Society. Morning Office hours on Thursday (tomorrow) followed by the first meeting of Film Noir. All three courses seem to be filled according to my online rosters. Let's see who and/or how many students actually turn up. This year's meetings of one sort or another , fortunately, don't begin until September 9th.
Coincidentally, it is 30 years (Yikes!) this October since I went to work, starting at the now long gone Radcliffe's IGA in Macungie, Pennsylvania (outside Allentown). . . Good ol' #9037, where I learned all about stocking shelves, gathering shopping carts, bagging groceries, and how to mop up after customers dropped things like large glass jars of beets. It was quite an education and sometimes a lot of fun too since I worked with a largely great crew of guys.
That six-year period was also instrumental in my eventual decision to return to school in the early 1990s, and I have not looked back since then. But I have considerable nostalgic affection for those days, and how funny that I still rise so early in the mornings during the school year. It seems the habits formed during those long ago Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday truck days (7am deliveries. . . 50' trailers unloaded with old-fashioned, hand-operated pallet jacks, thank you very much) have stayed with me. Strange. Who would trade that for a life of the mind?