November 20: It Committed Suicide, "Brokeback Mountain," Class Observation

"Simple.  I got very bored and depressed, so I went and plugged myself in to its external computer feed.  I talked to the computer at great length and explained my view of the Universe to it," said Marvin.

"And what happened?" pressed Ford.

"It committed suicide," said Marvin, and stalked off back to the Heart of Gold.

You will have to forgive me if this post sounds a little like Marvin the depressed robot blogging.  You see, I just finished watching Brokeback Mountain with my film class.  Whenever I reach my Brokeback week in this course, I have to brace myself. 

It's a great film.  One of my favorites.  Beautiful cinematography and music.  A stunning performance by Heath Ledger.  (His best, as far as I'm concerned.)  But . . . it's really depressing.  And, when I'm already in a somewhat down frame of mind, Brokeback Mountain pushes me over the edge.  This afternoon, I noticed a few people in class actually crying.

I apologize for my absence yesterday.  I spent most of last night preparing for my evening class tonight.  You see, I am being observed by another professor for my annual performance evaluation.  While I've been teaching at this university for close to 25 years, I still find peer observation very unsettling.  Perhaps it's the little Catholic boy in me, always expecting to be punished and told I'm not worthy.  Or it just may be my low self esteem.  Anyway, I'm kind of a nervous wreck this evening.

So, to sum things up--I am depressed and anxious tonight.  A little while ago, I was depressed and anxious and tired.  However, I drank a 5-hour energy drink, so I will be fully awake for whatever is going to happen in the next couple hours.  (No lectures on how bad those energy drinks are.  I know.  I work in a cardiology office.) 

The professor coming to visit me will only be staying for about the first hour of my class, long enough to witness me lead a class discussion about Brokeback Mountain and a chapter in our textbook.  Then, my students will take a quiz, and my colleague will go home and watch TV or read or book or type up his observation notes, excoriating me for my lack of effectiveness as an instructor.

If I sound paranoid, I am.  Although I think that I'm a good teacher, I always feel a little bit like a fraud when I'm standing in front of the classroom, like a student will stand up in the middle of my lecture on depictions of masculinity in Brokeback Mountain, point a finger at me, and shout, "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about!"  Then they will condemn me as a witch and burn me at the stake, or something like that.

I have about a half hour before this observation begins now.  I need to do some deep breathing, review my notes for class, and make sure there are no sharp objects on my person (in case things really don't go well).

Saint Marty is now depressed and anxious and a little panicked.  Maybe he should just jump on a horse and go hide on Brokeback Mountain for a couple days.

November 9: Class Observation, Jennifer Reeser, "Souvenir"

Okay, on top of the trauma of last night's election results, I have another thing that is causing much anxiety.  In a little over an hour, I have to go teach my Intro to Film class.  That isn't causing me anxiety.  We're finishing up Brokeback Mountain and starting into our last film of the semester, It's a Wonderful Life.  That isn't what is causing me anxiety, either.

What is causing me anxiety is the fact that a colleague of mine is coming to observe my class for about the first hour.  It's my annual evaluation.  Now, I've taught this class many times before.  I've taught these films many times, as well.  It's not a big deal.  But, there is this impulse to really do something pedagogically impressive.  I want to "wow" this guy.  However, I will settle for not sounding like an idiot.

I didn't sleep well last night, because of the election results and my observation this evening.  As the time gets closer and closer, I'm getting more and more anxious.  The funny thing is that it will be over very quickly.  I will do the lesson that I've prepared, and then I will start the movie.  Period.  My colleague will leave with his notes and write up his evaluation.  It will either be good or bad.

The only thing I have control over this evening is my teaching.  I will do my best, and, hopefully, that will be enough.

Saint Marty may drink when he gets home tonight.

Souvenir

by:  Jennifer Reeser

So many mornings I awoke in tears
from one more dream of crying at her grave,
but she was always there, secure and strong,
perfumed with talc, or Oriental spice,
with perfect words and comfort cold as ice—
the only love I ever held too long.

April 4: Jaws is Stranger than Fiction

I have a dilemma.

Because so many class days were cancelled at the university because of snow this semester, I can't show all of the movies I originally intended for my Intro to Film class.  After Brokeback Mountain, I have Will Ferrell's Stranger than Fiction on the syllabus.  Before spring break, I told my students we weren't going to view Jaws.  Now, I'm reconsidering that decision.

The majority of my students were disappointed that I'd chosen to eliminate Jaws.  One guy tried to talk me into getting rid of Brokeback Mountain instead.  Hardly anyone is looking forward to Stranger than Fiction.  My dilemma is whether I give into popular pressure and show Jaws, thereby insuring more positive student evaluations at the end of the term, or stick to my original plan and screen Will Ferrell next week, incurring wrath and recrimination from my students, not to mention some shitty evaluations.

If I was a purist, I wouldn't cave in.  I'd tell my classes that Stranger than Fiction is a more interesting film, exploring ideas of comedy versus tragedy, a life of quiet desperation.  However, Jaws is a kick-ass movie, taking on the themes of man versus nature, Captain Ahab versus Moby Dick.  I'm completely at a loss.

I think what I'm going to do is bring both films to class next week.  It will depend upon my mood and chocolate intake as to whether the last film of the class will feature Bruce the shark or Will the tax man.

In the mean time, Saint Marty will be up on Brokeback Mountain, tending the sheep.  (Do no read anything into that statement.  No subtext is included.)

This...

or...

this?

November 12: "Brokeback Mountain," "Carol" Dip Monday, Getting Published

These guys would like my poetry

It is Monday morning.  I am tired and a little cranky.  I didn't get to bed until after 11 p.m., and when you get up at 4 a.m. every morning, that makes for a really long day.  I need caffeine in the worst way.

Now that I have that out of my system, I will talk about the week ahead of me.  I will be screening the film Brokeback Mountain for my Intro to Film classes.  I wanted to show a Western, but I didn't feel like watching John Wayne or Clint Eastwood.  Thus, I went with a revisionist Western.  If you haven't seen the movie, do not start making jokes about gay sheep herders.  It really is a stunning piece of cinema, and Heath Ledger is brilliant.  I just hope I can get my students to get past their preconceived notions and really appreciate the artistry of it.  Ang Lee is hands-down one of the best directors working.

I'm beginning to think I should have chosen something a little "safer" for my Western.  Maybe The Searchers or Unforgiven.  I've never been one for playing it safe, however.  It's going to be an uphill battle.  But I took it easy on my students last week.  They got to watch Toy Story.  They should be up for a little challenge,  Plus, I need to give them something to talk about at their Thanksgiving dinners next week.

It is time for a Carol dip.  My question has nothing to do with bisexual cowboys, sheep, or Heath Ledger getting it on with Jake Gyllenhall.  It is about getting published.  More specifically, it's about getting my new book of poems published.  I still haven't placed the manuscript, and I finished it over a year ago.  That's a little depressing to me.  Not as depressing as being in love with a a married cowboy, but it's still damn depressing.  So my question is simple:

Will I publish my new poetry manuscript within the next six months?

And the answer from the great book of Dickens is:

My opinion is, that it was a done thing between him and Scrooge's nephew:  and that the Ghost of Christmas Present knew it.

A done thing.  I like the sound of that.  Looks like I'll be autographing copies of my new book before the ball drops in Times Square on December 31, 2013.

Sing with Saint Marty, "Should old acquaintance be forgot..."