Last night was my first class at NYU. I signed up for “The Fountainhead in New York City” because I read the book over the winter and really liked it, and wanted to learn more about it. I also read Loving Frank, which really got me more interested in Wright and architecture. I thought the class would be a good way to meet people – who doesn’t need a few more friends?
This class was more or less the opposite of everything I imagined it would be.
It was held in some high school downtown, so I didnt even get to pretend I was an NYU student (actually it was kind of cool because this high school had 5+ stories and had escalators instead of staircases! And it was a blast from the past to see “Vote Janna Homecoming Queen 2010!”). My classmates were the biggest hodge-podge of old people ever assembled. One guy was a nerdy, not-so-closet comic book aficionado. Another was a pushy guy from Brooklyn decked out in gold chains. My favorite classmates were a couple who’d been married 50 years and met over Ayn Rand! I want to be their adopted child.
You never realize how much credibility a college campus lends to a professor until some dingy guy tells you that he’s teaching your class. If he’d been standing in front of a lecture hall he’d just be “that eccentric Professor McGowan!”, but in a high school classroom he looked pretty lame. Sorry.
The class itself is going to be interesting, I think, if these people ever let the poor man follow his lesson plan.
On the way home, I met some guy who plays volleyball in a league, so I think I’m going to get to play volleyball! Hopefully my teammates will be closer to my age…