Professor Tashman


Before he became a master grammarian, Professor Tashman trudged along a number of other career paths: He was a cook at The International House of Pancakes, quitting after five straight hours of frying bacon.

He raked sand traps at a Jewish golf club in Stamford, Connecticut. He worked as a busboy and waiter at the defunct Steak ‘n Brew chain of restaurants . As a cab-driver, he drove psychopaths to Carnarsie and rescued damsels from jealous boyfriends. As an apprentice photo-retoucher (in 1984, way before Photoshop), he delivered 23,145 bottles of wine as Christmas gifts to art directors. He sold fruit and nuts from a vending cart on the street, his boss advising him to rig the scale.

He taught kindergarten for two years, second grade for one year, and junior high school for seven years.
They won.
He thinks “me and my sister” is more interesting than “my sister and I.” He believes if everyone spoke and wrote correctly, the city would be filled with boring yuppies.
He believes everyone–except Brad Pitt and Matt Damon–has an interesting story to tell. He is against the death penalty–except in the case of Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, and all English actors whose name begins with Clive, Colin, or Hugh. He believes only one Greek god still lives, and her name is Sandra Oh. He thinks it is ok to read your sister’s diary. He believes the world is divided into chocolate addicts and sex addicts.

He loves stationery stores and French fries. He thinks the most interesting thing about public schools is that–against all odds–they have managed to make both art and earth science boring.

The 1999 Mets were Professor Tashman’s favorite team. He hates chess. He is upset that Hellboy didn’t win the Academy Award.

He has taught Lucy, his daughter’s dog, to write kick-ass letters.