The most magical moment in my college career came when I, packed tightly in a lecture hall full of over-studied, over-caffeinated and severely under-showered undergrads, was made to listen to Metallica's "Enter Sandman" as part of a final exam. Then, just to make sure we had a fair enough chance at correctly identifying the song and artist, the professor played it a second time.
I looked around. People were taking off their shoes. This wasn't a final exam, it was a freaking CD-burning party. I half expected a joint to make its way down the row. This was Montreal, after all.
Still, if it hadn't been for that course (Popular Music Since 1945), I probably wouldn't have made it through that finals week without getting an ulcer or having a nervous breakdown. We need the Clapping For Credits, the Rocks For Jocks, the American Pop Culture Since 1950s (which, let's face it, will be about 95 percent focused on 1960 to 1975) to carry us through the College Algebras, the German Grammars and the Old Englishes (I could go to great lengths explaining what a "thorn" is).