Over the weekend, I was talking with my teenage son and his girlfriend about what they’d like to study in college. Their college applications are out, so it’s all done but the waiting (which btw, is a form of parental torture like few others).
Son wants to study computer science and cyber security. Girlfriend wants to study math. Girlfriend is good at math. After blowing through all of the math classes offered at the high school, she’s taking something like Calculus 4/Black Magic at the community college right now. And good for her – the world needs more female mathmagicians. The conversation then shifted to least favorite classes. Son’s least favorite class? Chemistry. I totally get that. Girlfriend’s least favorite class? History. Wait. Whaaaat?
Part of me just died a little.
OK, how to turn this around? Girlfriend loves to read. How about historical fiction? Something like Gone with the Wind?? She’s read it (kind of a surprise for a high school student), but . . . she didn’t like it.
Another part of me just died a little.
Is it because Margaret Mitchell casts a sympathetic shadow on the plight of the South during the Civil War? “No, um, it was just long and kinda boring.” (At this point, Son chimes in to back-up Girlfriend with, “You mean that 7 hour movie about the Civil War, with NO battle scenes?!? Booor-ing!!) No, Son, we’re talking about the book. Gawd! How long was THAT?!? When I told him it’s just over 1,0000 pages, he was steadfast in his incredulity – “Right. Over 1,000 pages and NO battle scenes?!? Booor-ing!!”
I’m overcome by the vapors! I can’t think about that now. I’ll think about that tomorrow, when I can stand it.
In the meantime, I’m leaving you with a Wine, Words & Wednesday rerun of Rhett Butler on wine. Because contrary to the teenager set, Rhett Butler is not boring!
These words come from another one of my all-time favorite books, Gone With the Wind. Sidebar: It’s almost impossible for my fingers to type Gone with the Wind. They want to type Gone with the Wine.
This is part of an exchange between Rhett Butler and his stepson, Wade Hampton Hamilton (son of Scarlett O’Hara and her first husband, the milquetoast Charles Hamilton). Scarlett and Rhett’s daughter has just been born. Rhett wants Wade to join him in a toast to his new daughter, but Wade declines, saying he’s promised his Aunt Melly he won’t drink until he’s graduated from college.
Rhett retorts with this . . .
I don’t know about you, but I’d sign up for Rhett Butler’s wine drinking…
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