MUSICAL MUSINGS

         Within my ex-Literature Professor's body lies an impish ten-year old heart. One should not be deceived by his wispy white hair, Professor-like spectacles, and equally Professor-like corduroys. He will forever go down in my college's history as the Professor who concocted raunchy double entendres and cheeky one-liners in between Austen and Dickens narratives. Former Bet Yaakov and Seminary graduates would blush, shudder, and then blush again at his mischievous quips. Interestingly, my ex-Professor thrived on this kind of reaction. His eyes would meet the crimson-hued student's, and he would declare proudly "Look at Shrpintza! She's blushing!" He would then emit a hearty giggle or two...or three. I did mention he has a ten-year old's mannerisms, right? Professor, in case you are reading this, I mean all of this in jest. Or maybe I'm just getting back to you for five semesters' worth of teasing me. Take your pick. (Me: smiling smugly).

 



 

No, silly, that's not my Professor. He just has the same kind of glasses as my Professor.