The Cool Teacher

I had just transferred to a new high school. Not far, geographically, from my old one, but it may have been another country.

My former school was known for being somewhat "arty," at least by catholic school standards. The theater kids were cool and our football team -- did we even have one? Anyway, the new school was much more conservative and traditional, with a plainly obvious "work-study" aesthetic. Despite feeling weirdly out-of-place, I liked my new school.I wasn't the token poor kid. Plus I lucked out and got the hot teacher for homeroom.

He subbed our gym class once; it must have been raining because we were inside in the weight, a place underclassman dare not tread without a chaperone (like a hottie teacher). Someone turned on a radio, the station tuned to the classic "RAWK!" station. Lots of fist pumping and fingers doing the devil horns went along with the usual grunts of scrawny sophomores pretending they're pumping iron.

Teacher McDreamy walks in and changes the "RAWK" station to a proto-alternative one, the kind of gonzo modern rock station in the days before the alternative explosion of the nineties where you'd hear anything from early eighties Krautrock to the these from "Green Acres." Very few people knew about. I thought it was my dirty little secret.

(You have to remember I grew up in the not-so sophisticated Midwest and we're easily impressed. Looking back, that station wasn't all that cutting edge, but you take what you can get.)

I hear a familiar rhythm. I look around and McDreamy is in rock out mode. The rest of the class is missing their Motley Crew and just looks flummoxed.

"Don't you guys know who this is?" McDreamy says.

"The Talking Heads?" I offer.

"Hey, a heads fan. Cool." He gives me a thumbs up.

I was cool for one day.