Got To Have Some Relief

Y’all remember Jerry Clower? I was thinking about him on the walk back from my 8:00 am class this morning. Most folks (at least the ones who do remember Clower) recall the “Rattlesnake Story,”—the one where they go sing at a little church in the mountains, the reverend brings out the rattlesnakes and the singer tells his buddy, “look around for the back door” to which his buddy replies, “I already looked and they ain’t one.” And the payoff line, “well reckon where do they want one?” is perfect. Problem is, that’s not Jerry Clower. That’s Wendy Bagwell. Still funny, but not Clower.

But, I digress (again)—back to my original point—Jerry Clower. I mentioned I was walking back from my 8:00 am class. It was a typical late-January morning in the red-dirt Piedmont of North Carolina: thirty-eight degrees, a little windy, and spitting rain. Yes, it’s the middle of November and such, but that’s another story. Anyway, the quad was deserted. Our campus population has grown quite a bit over the past three years (now that’s really another story—don’t get me started), so there’s normally plenty of traffic around the quad after most classes. Not this morning. Granted, it wasn’t the most pleasant weather, but it wasn’t that bad, not really.

We’ve reached that point in the semester, especially for those of us who teach freshmen. They hit the wall about this time every year. Finals are looming, everything’s due, and they’re all sick (wash your hands, you little snot-lockers, and do not touch anything in my office). They don’t need much of an excuse to skip class; even less if it’s at 8:00 am on a Friday (an aside for those of you who’ve been out of college a while—yes, Thursday night is still the go-to party night and yes, Friday mornings still feature the Walk of Shame Parade. I’ve always come in really early. If I had a nickel for every co-ed I’ve seen slinking across campus, carrying stilletto heels in one hand and her dignity in the other, avoiding eye contact…). We, the professors, staff, and most of the administration aren’t in much better shape. There’s more material yet to cover, finals are looming, there are thousands of things to grade, and we’re all sick.

You can see the symptoms everywhere. I have seventeen registered for my 8 o’clock. This morning, I had two in class. Yep. Two. Wheee! Right now, I can hear four or five students outside my office in the study areas hacking , sneezing , and sucking snot back up in their sinuses (and I know they’re out there touching everything). Some kid has been asleep on the couch outside the third floor stacks all week (don’t worry, I poked him with the toe of my boot and he moved a little bit) and every other professor you pass is mumbling something unintelligible under his or her breath.

So what’s all this have to do with Jerry Clower, you ask?

Thanks for asking. My favorite bit of Jerry Clower’s is “A Coon Hunting Story.” That story is the perfect metaphor for this time of the semester. We’re all thinking what old John Eubanks (from the story) yells when he’s up in that tree with the Lynx: “Lawd, just shoot up here amongst us, one of us has got to have some relief.”

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