I have a new office on the fourth floor of Loras Hall, right across the drive from the St. Paul Seminary. In fact, if it weren't for the seminary, I'd have a knockout view of the Mississippi River. Instead, I see the seminary chapel (which is nice enough) and clusters (flocks? bevies?) of men in cassocks on the sidewalk below.
I like the new office. It's bigger than my old one and faces west (which I like for the cool mornings and beautiful sunsets) and is off the beaten path of the rest of my department. But here's what they didn't tell me before I willingly exited the rest of my colleagues upstairs: the university voice faculty have offices right underneath my chair. Which means their students inflict their screechy scales, arias and the same five bars of a single showtune (something from "Oklahoma!" -- which is just the dorkiest musical ever written) over and over and over, for hours on end. I'm not a great fan of choral and classical vocal music. And bad sopranos sort of give me a headache. So I plug my headphones into my computer speaker and drown 'em out with Dylan or Joplin or talk radio.
OK, now I'm sounding like a crotchety old person. Never mind. Apologies to music lovers everywhere. I tried to like opera, but I got over it.
On the other hand, since the grandkids were born a few years ago I've been revisiting neat songs, books and poems for little ones. This is one of my favorites: "Little Potato," recorded by a group called Metamora. Listen here http://www.starbittrune.com/Jack/littlepotato.html