The only difference is all I see is now all that I've seen

Matt Asks: What high school class did you learn the most about life from? Not facts and figures and stuff like that, but more important lessons. What made that class different from the rest? What did you learn?

Wow. High School seems so far away, and yet that might make it easier to answer this question. I think that my high school experience was shaped by people more than classes, but if I had to choose only one class, it would be Mr. Burrows' AP Physics class. Possibly because I was there for a full year, and there were only ten of us, so we became pretty tight as the year wore on.

Short-order list!: I learned that the answer to any question is "thirty eight." I learned to always, always, always read the directions first. I learned the importance of sharing coffee and toast and physics notes with friends at Village Inn during the morning before exams. I learned the value of a foot long burrito from Bonny's and that when you share a lab room with the anatomy class, one of their dissected cats always looks enough like Mr. Burrows that they give him the skin as a souvenir, and it's the gift that keeps on giving (especially when he throws the cat skin at you for not knowing the answer to a question, or dresses up the scale "man" figure up as "Chip the Cat Man"). I learned not to trust anyone with a Van De Graaff generator, fifteen anatomy kids who didn't take physics, and a metal sink on the anatomy class end of the human science class chain. Most importantly, though, I learned the value of canceling your units, and showing your work (I don't think you have any idea how many times this "philosophy" or "school" of Burrows has helped me in class, on the job, or just...in general).

I also learned things about Ashley, and how silly and romantic she could be, which surprised me. I learned how to pound out the theme from the Terminator with my fist on a desk. I learned the lumberjack song, and the magic of whiteboards (up to then, the public schools had only provided me with plain old blackboards. It's magic what a white board and dry erase markers do for the creative and physics-minded soul).

I have some stories, too; some related to the above lessons, some not.

During the "Calorie Lab," Joey and Randy jumped into the assignment and burned their Brazil nut (because it was the biggest and thus most fascinating) before they read the lab (naturally, the third instruction "use the burner to burn the nut" just jumped out of the page at them before anything else could set in). The can of assorted nuts only afforded each lab group one Brazil nut, although there was a plethora of peanuts, an abundance of almonds, a considerable quantity of cashews, and...well, a whole bunch of hazelnuts. This left them with a beaker that they had yet to even fill with water, some 'splainin to do, and a very angry physics teacher. They were already on thin ice after the incident where Joey was tossing around a mercury thermometer and broke it in the lab room, and after they had piled up the tables to make a fort.

Speaking of the fort, that day, Mr. Burrows walked in, saw the fort, and jokingly barked, "What are you doing over there, Joey and Randy? Making a fort?! This isn't Habitat for Humanity! It's more like Habitat for Insanity," and thus was born the moniker for our humble little AP class.
Sometimes I really miss high school. But not really.

Tomorrow, I'll come up with a prompt. It's no good when I'm under pressure. Y'all know, though - all y'all who've played loaded questions with me, anyway.

Now Listening: Franz Ferdinand - Outsiders
& Listening: Alison Krauss - Maybe
& Listening: The Dandy Warhols - I Am Over It