May 31, 2006
Radiographer (Opening Prayer and the Revival of Erik Estrada)
First day of class. The First and Second Years joined together for a rare harmonic convergence. I’ll be honest. I was nervous. In part because I was emotionally drained from the Spurs collapse, and also because I wasn’t sure what I had got myself into. What happened next did nothing to lessen these concerns.
After everyone arrived, the instructors began to introduce themselves. But before that, this was preceded by high fiving and back slapping by all the Second Years. The Big Shots. Really they were just a bunch of rag/tag Dirty Dozen types like us. But with their year of wisdom it was like we were Freshmen in High School and they were the Seniors. Those cocky bastards! It’s rare to be able to feel this sort of alien initiation anymore these days, so ultimately it was a good thing. I overhead people talking about who was going to be nominated for Class President. The orientation had just begun and already people were forced to position themselves for an upcoming election.
The first instructor took the podium. Everyone came down to a murmur. He asked us how we were all doing! A good sign. And then quickly, he asked us to lower our heads for a group prayer.
A group prayer?
I didn’t see that one coming. Aren’t there rules against this sort of thing? Especially at a public school. At first I thought I should be offended. But after a few moments I thought – this guy has got balls. Right off the bat he has us addressing a higher power. I’d like to think that he is internally conflicted with the role of religion and science, in this case radiography. Perhaps he was like Prometheus and felt guilty for stealing fire from the Gods, in this case, ionizing radiation. Of course that wasn’t the case, he just wanted to set the tone, but it made it seem more interesting…
The other instructors quickly went through their speeches. After the first guy went for a home run with a group prayer, who was going to try and top that? At that point, a new instructor began handing out cards to the Second Years. There was a lot of head turning and a return to murmuring. Finally, after the mysterious cards were distributed he filled us innocent, sheep-like First Years in to what was going on.
And before I completely explain, I have to say that this instructor must have been moved by the Willie Wonka movie because what happened next was right from Wonka himself (I assume it to be Gene Wilder but probably the remake…)
The cards were actually Gold Tickets, gold in that they were on yellow paper. And each second year was going to deliver a Gold Ticket to one of the first years. Each First Year was going to be given a mentor from the second year. And the Gold Ticket was a prize for us First Years and a reminder for the great opportunity we’ve received to be in the program. And I’m not knocking it. As well as the road paid, I couldn’t keep driving trucks, living at shopping malls, and smelling another man’s farts.
As the Second Years called out the names to the First Years, I waited for who my mentor would be. But before I could get to that point I was quickly made aware of the guy sitting next to me. His name was Erik Estrada!
Obviously Ponch wasn’t in the class next to me. I’m pretty sure I was the only LA washup in the program. But the dude was pretty damn close to a 24 year old mid-70s Poncherelli.
I asked him how he got the name and he said it was probably a cruel joke. It reminded me of the comedian Albert Brooks. His real last name was Einstein. I don’t know what’s worse – being named after the father of quantum physics and you want to be a comedian, or, you’re named after a 70s heartthrob and you want to be a radiographer.
The program was off to a good start.