Remember when you started to like a coursebook because of these little things

twitter: @eugenio_fouz


[James Huggins, @james_madeinme on Twitter]

The coursebook on Baccalaureate this year provides students with good stuff for learning and communication. There are plenty of videos, audios and texts. The language used in the book occupies a varied range of registers. The editor on this occasion is Ben Wetz, a well-known imaginative, original teacher. I like the apppendixes on vocabulary and grammar. The Vocabulary Workshop helps the student to focus on the topic from every lesson.

I must confess I have just started to work with the stuff and in the first two lessons I knew it was going to be interesting, funny, enjoyable to me.

To give just an example, I fell immediately fascinated with this poem which is on page 18. [Skills extra. Unit 1. Key to Bachillerato, Ben WETZ (Oxford, 2014. OUP)]


Remember When

A Poem About Technology by: James S. Huggins’ Refrigerator Door

“A computer was something on TV

From a sci fi show of note.

A window was something you hated to clean

And ram was the cousin of goat.


Meg was the name of my girlfriend

And gig was a job for the nights.

Now they all mean different things

And that really mega bytes.


An application was for employment.

A program was a TV show.

A curser used profanity.

A keyboard was a piano.


Memory was something that you lost with age.

A CD was a bank account.

And if you had a 3 1/2″ floppy

You hoped nobody found out.


Compress was something you did to the garbage

Not something you did to a file.

And if you unzipped anything in


You’d be in jail for a while.


Log on was adding wood to the fire.

Hard drive was a long trip on the road.

A mouse pad was where a mouse lived.

And a backup happened to your



Cut you did with a pocket knife.

Paste you did with glue.

A web was a spider’s home.

And a virus was the flu


I guess I’ll stick to my pad and paper

And the memory in my head.

I hear nobody’s been killed in a

computer crash,

But when it happens they wish they were dead.”

[poem written by James Huggins]



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