I don't dig his digs

I know. I know. I haven’t been markedly ambitious in the writing department during the last month. But look: I’m a busy man. Of course, by “busy” I mean “lazy.” And by “man” I mean “college student.” But hey, tom-ay-to, tom-ah-to.

However, jammed between days of simply fantastic college football and absolutely putrid professional football are days where the unthinkable happens: I go to class.

Now, I’m a Political Science major this week. As such, I get to go to such wonderfully interesting classes as State and Local Government (taught by a professor that I think I could beat up) and American Federal Government. Now, the guy who teaches the latter is really, really smart. And I respect that. But what I don’t appreciate is his attire.

Every day, this professor shows up in shorts, sandals, and a t-shirt which customarily boasts clever little sayings about his (extremely rightist) views on politics. Maybe it’s just me, but it seems that if I were given the opportunity to make a copious amount of money each year for enlightening more future politicians (because, as everyone knows, we need more politicians), I would take the time to, you know, put on a tie. Or at least a collared shirt.

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