...I really did.
But no.
Some people ride roller coasters for their dose of adrenaline thrill. Some people seek out danger by sky-diving, cliff-climbing, or exploring the depths of pitch black caverns. Some people move across the country and turn into rough and ready cowboys. Some people drive through car washes.
I sit wide-eyed in class with my mentally nominated hero teacher of the year --- thoughts rushing through my head about every perfected technique, every indication of that absolute confidence possessed by the master teacher. My whole being is in shuddering awe at the passion and concern he holds for the intellectual success of every single student.
I have felt guilty because at least one of my heroes of the past was a good-looking, athletic young man with a beautiful British accent. He held the hero title for 4 years in a row. I was, let's say...over the top with my enthusiasm.
This time, I feel justified.
My new hero, who, by the way, almost made me cry because of his noble introductory talk on the first day of class, is of the following description:
short.
stout.
Bostonian.
possessed of a pompadour-forelock.
And, he can't say "nucleus."
He says, "nuclewus."
Nonetheless, having a hero at WKU makes me feel right at home, and excited for the year to come!
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