A couple of my seventh form students last year decided that I looked like Clarence Boddicker. Not Clarence as he looks now in that piece of crap called That 70s Show, but Clarence as he was in that piece of crap called Robocop. At the end of the year all the seventh formers and the staff had the chance to buy a school sweatshirt and have something printed on the back. They wanted mine to say Clarence. I declined to buy a sweatshirt.
While my students are mocking my male pattern baldness, glasses, pastiness and resemblance to grumpy old men on TV shows I think two things: (1) it's pretty funny, and (2) who knows what genes and time have in store for you. I once thought I would look like Alexander the Great or Jim Morrison. This clearly has not panned out very well.
When I bump into some of these students on the street in twenty years and they have lost all their hair and put on weight I wonder if they will mind when I call them chrome dome?
3 comments:
Now I'm quite relieved that I look like a bass player from Eastern Europe.
"Rich," I said to myself, "life could be worse."
It is.
...and in JY's pigeon hole a short message read,
"Please update your blog."
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