I was exceptionally giddy as pre-registration rolled around this semester. In the past, my thoughts had turned to classes like "History of Medicine" with the fabled Jane Maienschein and "General Genetics" with the equally fabled, if for totally different reasons, Elliot Goldstein.
Inevitably, I would convince myself that these classes would far surpass the dreary ones I had taken before. Somehow they were going to be easier and more entertaining than the letdowns of semesters past.
This time I wouldn't be. I had heard of a class with enough excitement to cause the loss of a limb or two or three! Alligator handling! It may sound ridiculous, but its offered in Alamosa, Colo., so why not here?
Sadly, when I checked the schedule for fall 2002 I was sorely disappointed. I searched under the headings of Biology, Finance, Communication, Recreation and Tourism, and Spanish. Nary a class suitable to my tastes did I find.
And so I was let down.
There were hints of hints of an alligator class, but nothing panned out. ASU just isn't able to fill my needs as a student. It was a simple request, I just wanted a class designed to teach the tactics and subtle nuances involved in rasslin' alligators. You know, pick up a little of the lingo, get an Australian accent (or was he a crocodile hunter?), learn about the advantages a golf club can give you.
ASU must not have enough foresight to understand how valuable this venture could be. It becomes my job, as a columnist, to enlighten them.
Jay Young, gator wrangler extraordinaire, is light years ahead of us. He saw a niche market in the booming industry of ... well, let's just say he saw a market. It's that kind of bleeding edge that we need here at ASU (and I do mean bleeding).
Admittedly, that niche market turned out to be one lone man — a 22 year-old named Justin Prann. Justin was the only one of five people who signed up for Young's alligator handling course to show up.
As excited as I am about the elusive possibility of an alligator wrestling class here at ASU I would still ask several questions before I was up to my neck in gators. Things like: "Will this fulfill my cultural requirement?" "Are there any required books?" and "Do I still have to take my next econ test if I lose part of my left hand?"
Justin asked none of these serious questions. In fact, his sole reason behind spending last Saturday in the company of a real life Crocodile Dundee (accent not included) and a real life 400-pound alligator (pointy teeth definitely included) was this, "Ski season (was) winding down."
The four others who signed up must have decided to hit the slopes one last time, figuring that a broken leg attached is better than two eaten by an alligator. Or they couldn't find the classroom (read: slept in too late, since class did start at 10 am).
Young, our endeavoring professor, is struggling to figure out why the market suddenly dried up (and how to relate to this first generation of students). He says of the no shows, "They sounded pretty excited on the phone."
One of two things can explain this: Young doesn't know a prank call when he hears one or someone wisely rounded the other alligator-bait wannabes up and put them on heavy sedatives in tiny padded rooms before they hurt themselves.
I do know for a fact that Prann emerged with all his limbs intact and that the only close call came from a feisty 5-footer. While I'm relieved, I'd have to say that his physical health doesn't disqualify him for an insanity plea, should something come up later (outstanding traffic tickets, grape smuggling, you name it).
Young claims to have been pleased with Justin's performance in the class and expresses hopes for further courses. He was, however, disappointed with the lackluster attendance. Perhaps he should take a hint from the College of Business and not schedule classes on the weekend (weekend, in the ASU sense, meaning from Thursday night until sometime Monday morning).
I was unable to interview Young personally because I didn't bother to contact him, but a syllabus for the course was available online. You start off learning how to take care of the little buggers, then by the end of the course you're taking down man-eaters.
When asked what his thought of alligator wrestling as a class John Hamman, a junior economics major reputed for knowing next to nothing about alligators (or really very much at all), said "That'd be sweet as long as we could wear baggy overalls with nothing underneath like they do in the movies — not those dorky spandex things, Jesus!"
Young's class would carry a $50 fee that would be refundable should you not need any members of your body reattached at the end of the semester.
North Noelck is a biology sophomore. Reach him at north.noelck@asu.edu.
