Reason #237 Why I Hate Journey

Two years ago during my first fall as a teacher, one of my students came bounding into my classroom on a Monday morning. He told me that he had the best weekend of his life and he couldn't wait to tell me about it. Curious, I asked him to tell me what had him so hyper early on a Monday when most other students were cursing the heavens (and parents) for bringing them to such a place. He told me that his father and he had gone to a Journey concert and, in his own words, "It was the balls." After some lengthy discussion as to what is appropriate language inside of an academic building, this student informed me that he had a surprise for me. I recoiled at my desk, fearing the worst, only to find myself presented with a Journey CD, a sampler of their new material. It's not that I don't like Journey, it's just that I find other people like them entirely way too much. Even so, I thanked him for the gesture, briefly read the track list on the back, and continued on with class. This CD would sit in the bottom drawer of my desk for the next two years...until today.

Being the mover and shaker that I am, I was told that because of my service to the school, and because I had proven myself time and time again to be the ultimate weapon against stupidity the school I work at gave me a much bigger classroom. And so, I had to move the contents of my desk with me to the new digs. Anxious to get myself settled, I sat in between classes, fussing with my desk and the chair arrangement of the classroom (I find the squared-off "U" shape to be the most conducive to a productive classroom atmosphere). The last thing I had to do in order to REALLY feel at home though was to filter through the contents of my desk. There were some things in there I really didn't need anymore, so I figured now was as good a time as any to get rid of some shit. After some digging, I found the aforementioned Journey CD.

Being a patron of the arts, I was torn as to whether or not to throw the CD away. In my mind, the contents of this CD could be the best pieces of music ever created, so why should it go to waste just because I don't particularly care for the band who made it. So, being the diplomat I am, I offered it to my students. With a flip of my wrist, I tossed the CD case to one of the kids and went on checking homework and beginning the lesson for the day. Five minutes later, I heard what is now the single hardest laugh I have ever heard in my life.

I whipped around to see why my class was being disrupted only to see two of my students beet red and almost in tears. They swore that it was nothing I had said. My response to that was then "Well alright, who farted then?" Again, the two shook their heads. Becoming more frustrated, I demanded to know what was so funny. To them, it was because I wanted to embarrass them. In my mind, I just didn't want to be left out of a seemingly awesome joke. I checked my fly and wiped at my nose, for I was suspicious one of those two things would have made the joke on me, but neither was the case. Finally, one of the boys laughing said the content of the CD case is what they were laughing at. I only looked for a second, but when I opened the case I saw only a pink CD with "Hustler" across the top. Porn. Instantly I got that feeling that I used to get when I was a kid when my dad pulled into the garage and I knew I was in deep shit. Full panic.

My first response was "HOLY SHIT!" which made the kids laugh even harder. I then spent the next five minutes explaining to them that the contents of that case were not mine, and I have no idea how that got there. As my mind raced, I began to feel a tightness in my chest that I have never felt before. Typically, every plea I made to them was met with the sarcastic "suuuuuuuure" that I myself would have made had the situation been reversed. Still, I began to think that my life was a cartoon for others to mock. Nervously, I told them that this story was not to leave this classroom. Now, I know that this is never going to go how I wanted it to go, and I will certainly be mocked tomorrow for this incident, but since I have no reason to lie here I will tell you, my dear reader, I have no idea where that shit came from. I think the situation would have been easier if it was mine actually. That way I would have no reason to be mad or anxious, because it was my own dumbass fault. It wouldn't be the first time. One time I went to send my ex-girlfriend the Rick James skit from Chappelle's Show only to send her a lesbian shower scene instead. Oh well.

In my eyes, this is probably the single most embarrassing moment of my professional life, so much so that it needed to be shared with all of you while it was still fresh in my mind. In the end, I really have nobody to blame, because the kid who gave me the CD is gone to college now. And so, I will focus all of my energy on hating the only people who deserve my special brand of wrath, and that's Journey. That band sucks and it's all their fault. If I liked the CD the kid gave me, I would have never had this problem. As it is, they suck and I had no interest in their music and that led to a porn bomb exploding in my newly fashioned classroom. Fuck Journey.

As an aside, all you karaoke hacks, please DO stop believing so I can finish my mai thai instead of throwing it at you...shit don't grow on trees.


R Von D