“The beat don’t stop”

Sent the in-laws home today. They’re lovely folks, full of fun and I’m glad when they get to visit. It seems we’re making this an annual thing, though, their fall trip for a weekend. Last year they made it down for a homecoming game. This weekend they saw Auburn host Ole Miss. Next year, a big-time game perhaps.

Anyway, we had breakfast at Barbecue House, as has become a weekly tradition. Some football players were there, including an offensive lineman. My mother-in-law barely came up to his shoulder blades. Mr. Price now remembers me. He asked my mother-in-law if if I was back or visiting.

And this is the sign that I ate here too much in undergrad — several times a week for breakfast and sometimes for lunch as my class schedule allowed — he now recalls me by name. That’s a powerful memory.

I graduated a decade ago.

Saw them off and headed to campus. Did a little work, graded some papers, mingled a bit and went to class.

I learned what relief sounds like. I told the students they would have no quiz today and the room got brighter, louder and the barometric pressure dropped two degrees. The escape of tension can be a tangible thing.

At the paper, where the student-journalists are hard at work … showing each other videos. Rapper’s Delight shows up in here, as well as other high points of the genre:

There are three things about that. First, I’ve now seen Jimmy Fallon do something funny — he’s just … not. Second, I think I’ve found Jimmy Fallon’s audience — the college student. Third, this is the jumping off point where I can no longer relate to that audience — I’m old.

They are also putting together a paper, alas, there is no compelling video of this herculean feat. There will be news copy tomorrow, however.

Google is making changes. They are horrible. More on that tomorrow.

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