Where is your helicopter now???

Some days, I gather dirty diapers from all my friends with babies, better yet, toddlers.  I go around and get as many as I can.  I also go down town to gather all the trash of the trash from the dumpsters.  All this I collect and haul home.  I put it in small compacted loads, ready for flinging out the window of our moving vehicle.  Why?  Keep reading.

I was not a typical college kid.  I went off to college with my bestie and she and I worked pretty hard both to get good grades and to also stay out of trouble.  We were both biology majors and ended up in mostly the same classes.  One of our best slacker classes was Jazz Studies (show up, get an A) and the worst we took together was Calculus II.  It was not because we were not smart; oh no, we were pretty much braniacs back then.  She very well could still be.  I have chosen to dumb down.  Who needs to know that stuff anymore?  Anyways…

Our Calc II prof was Dr. Bergstaller (or some similar spelling of something close to that.)  He could not teach.  I still remember his opening day speech:

“Students, I am going to take you on a journey.  One that you wont enjoy – a journey that will leave you lost and looking for direction.  But don’t worry.  When you are at your worst, and you need rescuing, I will come with my helicopter and save you.”

Really?  This is math, not psychobabble.   So guess what?  The class sucked.  I mean sucked horribly.  He told us his 9-year-old grandson was smarter than we were.  Really, he did.    If I remember correctly, I got a B- in the class with about a 20%.  Thank God for grading on a curve.  20% – wow.  Learned a lot from that man.  Like how to hate calculus…

Every time we head to the farm, we pass a “This section of the highway is adopted by” sign and guess who adopted that area?  The Bergstaller family.   Remember all the stinking trash I collected?  I throw all my garbage out the window in those two miles.  I dig out all the trash from the seats, under the seats, in the glove box.  All of it.  I eat more food, just to get more wrappers.  I don’t even know if these people are a distant relative or just cursed by the same last name.  Doesn’t matter to me.  Pay back. 

Where is your helicopter now, Dr. Bergstaller?

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