Rant: God bless mature aged students
Words by Tennille Paterson
I don’t want to be a mature aged student. Yes, the university lifestyle is great…for young people. However, when I’m mature aged I’d prefer to be retired.
I could almost bet the last $5 in my wallet on the fact that he just modified the word figurative and repeated it three times. Big claim, I’m not scared. The amount of times I have heard the word literal during the last 30 minutes would make a person think I might understand how it is being related to rhetorical questions. Now brings us to the speaking in foreign languages part. That last sentence apparently meant something, something in Greek. Impressive as this may seem, my name is not Hercules and this class was supposed to be about modern poetry.
After an abundance of long winded sentences, just to add to my confusion…here enters the mature aged student. Yes, the one guy who appears to have stumbled his way through 75% of the courses I have enrolled in throughout my entire academic career. Pretty much the one guy I would recognise until I am 72 because his face has been scorched onto my retina.
Apart from not even being able to understand this strange phenomenon that is the mature aged student, I have to be relentlessly tormented by the arrogance of his wisdom. Maybe if he was one of the great writers of the 19th century I could trust his opinion. Simply because he may believe this of himself does not mean I see anything more than the short, balding, overweight Hawaiian shirt wearing caricature he really is. The additional fact that he must object to every possible hint of human opinion does not win him any further merit.
As I listen to him chase the last word in a debate between him and some other dweeb, I turn in disgust to examine the unfortunate creatures. Although it was an excruciatingly bad move for my eyes, I can’t help but sympathize and join the dweeb’s crusade. I’ll even excuse the fact that mature aged student just called him a glue sniffer. Wow. Not only have I never met a glue sniffer, but I truly believed they all would have died in their platform shoes and safety pin jewellery or something.
No, now they can be classified as ‘loose’. This is a new term, it quickly categorises a large amount of different people and recreational habits into one. I am sure mature aged student would appreciate this term, that is if he would only pick up his arse and move it into modern day society with the rest of us.
After overhearing a lecturer explain podcasting like a zookeeper training an ape, I have decided I am not equipped to be the one to inform Mature Aged student the ways of the world. I do however know an appropriate educational song for the situation. It’s from playschool and it goes…”One of these things is not like the other…one of these things just doesn’t belong…Can you tell me which thing is not like the other by the time I finish this song?”.
I would not belittle anyone to that extent, including myself, by reciting that ditty to a crowded lecture theatre. I will however take silent pride in the fact that not only has Mature Aged Student given up sweet sweet retirement to attend university, he will only have about 5 good years left of life by the time he actually achieves his chosen career. Fingers crossed he makes it to graduation. All this, of course, is aside from the fact he dresses himself in a Hawaiian shirt, every single Jesus loving day.
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