The graying man arrives every day just a few minutes before class is supposed to begin; not mine, but another (whichever one he teaches). He is a quintessential Brat Pack character, the man with the boom box. In this day and age, our university looks upon his music machine as a blast from the past—old and unique.
The boom box is in flawless condition. The sound is clear, and just as the description of “boom box” would imply, its sound booms off of every wall in this hallowed hall. Students stare in amusement as he makes his way, undeterred by the looks, to class.
The man with the boom box is the most unique character we have of all our professors—even more so than the one who rides a unicycle to work. I can only imagine what must happen in his class—the antics, the mannerisms, the music.
Maybe one day I will know from my own experience. For now, he is but an interesting face I see, and one I enjoy seeing on such otherwise boring days.