in my last semester of university i took an independent study course in radio editing. i did it with a friend, and we had a professor, Brian Morel. brian was a tenured professor without a track. the university had slowly cut off his courses as they transitioned from a hands-on to a theoretical approach to Cultural Studies, an already quirky and tiny faculty in a school putting its dollars into Scientific Research.
Brian was the crazy uncle left to quietly amuse himself. officially, he was responsible for the summer arts programme and tiny symposiums hosted by the department. but mostly he just hung around the cultural studies building, acting as unofficial caretaker, affable host and occasional mentor to the wackiest of grad students. The buiilding itself was a saggy townhome that teetered precariously on the steepest part of Peel Street. There was a screening room on the first floor (the only part of the building still used for any form of actual teaching), a few offices on the second floor for associate proffesors not valued enough for a space on the campus proper, and on the third was Brians lair. his office, playground and kingdom.
this is where i took perhaps the most applicable and useless course of my post-secondary education.
For the sake of clarity i would like to say upfront that i have never used the fine skill of splicing tape i learned on that third floor... and the lessons on delivery certainly didnt help me out during my audition as an audio book narrator for the CNIB. but Brian taught me how to enjoy yourself in a professional situation that is... shall we say, less than a balls-out marathon of tasks and deadlines.
Brian knew that two young graduates of a cultural theory degree in the new millenium had little need for the skills he excelled in. the antiquated processes of the CBC in the 70s, the reel to reel editing and radio documentary. but those lessons were a background to our true education. Above all else Brian stressed finding fun and lightheartedness in your daily work, curiousity and passionate engagement with whatever the task at hand.
one day my friend and i found ourselves literally pawing through a box of dress up clothes, making fun on the third floor, to fill time and engage in the play of radio drama. i learned the number one rule of interviews - to ask the next question, always ask - during long afternoon talks with him in his office, learning about his crazy life, seeing his photographs, listening to gossip about other professors.
i use those skills all the time, every day. ask any graduate with an arts degree. no one cares what you know or think about McLuhan. and the ability to reason your way through the most difficult of subjective hypotheses in 50 pages apperently does not prove that you can run the department. things become cliche because they are so often thecase, you simply must pay your dues. as a result you will spend a lot of years with tasks too simple and a lot of time on your hands. This is a simple fact, but not necessarily to your detriment, as brian was to teach us. reaching the other end of the spectrum, he was in his twilight years, constantly beating back his retirement in perhaps the one job that cant make him go away. he loved working, no matter how ridiculous he looked to the rest of us. and he taught me how to love my work, no matter what it happens to be.
he taught me that the best thing you can do is be curious.... about your job, your company, the processes and people involved in what you do. you need to make a life for yourself in your job. not make a job your life mind you, but the exact opposite.
Learn, whatever you can.... and care about what that means. make sure you have a few laughs, enjoy what you are doing every day. even if it wastes a little time and indulges the most childish of impulses. as long as you are engaged and aware of your function - your responsibilities, the fun can come in the spaces where there is room for it.
you probably don't think this was a skill that could be applied, or at least, not a learned skill. but Brian taught me about finding your niche in the world, a world that doesnt always make room for you to shine in all your capable glory. He was waiting for his moment, and finding value in the time he had and the space it afforded him to indulge his curiousity, his need to learn about and experience life. the opportunity it afforded him to stretch himself, to enjoy himself while remaining responsible and finding worth in the work he did do, the few places where he retained his value to the bureaucratic machine that ran the University.
he was dead serious about his work, but he also loved his life.
