Busted

When it comes to Australians, those descendants of British ruffians, I've always been ambivalent. Sure, they've got great pharmaceutical policies and I've worked with some wonderful ones, but as a people, they had never done much for me, at least compared to other subjects of the throne. All that is rapidly changing this semester.

This morning, at my purposefully inconveniently scheduled office hours (I learned from the best, i.e. Walty, when it comes to office hours), two Aussies chatted loudly at the table next to me. When they started talking about cheering on Prof Papa's tennis matches and bringing supply and demand signs in support, well, it wasn't just hard not to eavesdrop, it was hard to even pretend I wasn't eavesdropping. Good thing Greg caught on and asked for my input straight on. I suggested playing tennis for grades. (Remember how Mr. Bowen was willing to bet for grades? Not enough teachers are willing to do that.) All this would have been normal. But what then followed was a bizarre nerdy exchange in which we marginally joked around but mainly discussed our respective health and education systems and which courses offered the most practical skills in health policy. Of all the banter in the world, we talked about healthcare. While skipping class. The morning before a holiday break. ("Are you guys celebrating how the American Indians gave food to our forefathers?" "Is that what happened? I haven't actually read the story.") The complexity and geekitude of all that perplex me. These Australians-- they don't have anything to offer just yet. But they've got my attention for now.