Someone Woke Me Up, And The Professor Yelled…

I took a Music 100 class my freshman year of college, Fall semester. 8 AM.

I was a Psych major as a freshman, and later changed to Business. Music 100 was an “elective.” In other words, it was one of several purposeless classes I could “elect” to take just to fulfill my “full time” status as a student until it was time to take all the serious classes for my major. At the time, Penn State required that a student amass ~122 credit hours to receive a degree, though the required Business classes totaled about 60 credits.

(Lesson: half of college is designed to keep you there for nothing and suck money out of you.)

Anyway, back to Music 100. The teacher, let’s call him Mr. Boring, was this middle-aged White guy who spoke in monotone and never laughed or smiled. I’m not sure he liked himself, his job, students, or music. He was the kind of teacher whose main purpose was to show punk freshmen how serious college classes really were. The problem for him was, he had a bullshit topic and no style whatsoever with which to do it.

Mr. Boring, laid down the rules on the first day.

1) No sleeping allowed in class. Mr. Boring spent extra time on this point.

2) Attendance in class factored into your grade. It was one of those, “you can only miss two…