Lady Bird Johnson

Much has been said about LBJ in the days since her death. All of it seems to be positive, and I would hardly deny it of her. Certainly she made a difficult role her own, and following in Jackie Kennedy's shoes is not a position I think most of us would want.

Certainly Lady Bird Johnson did well in the role. The kind of controversy attracted by the actions of Nancy Reagan and Hillary Clinton did not attach to her. At the same time, I'm quite intrigued that not one of the blogs, articles or radio pieces I've stumbled across has mentioned LBJ's infidelities, or her patience in that area. Hillary Clinton could solve every problem in the Middle East and fix our national heath crisis, but her obituary will still mention Monica Lewinsky. Nancy Reagan's will mention astrology.

I'm not complaining or griping, just intrigued. Maybe it's the residual from the 1960s, pre-Watergate forgiveness factor, kicking in one last time.

for Harriet

When we were young and we were poor, Harriet bought me drinks, so I feel that I owe her. Heck, I'm still poor, but I still do feel that I owe her to the best of my ability to repay when not writing large checks for my student loan debts. Thus when she punts a meme my way, I feel obligated to respond - but this is a toughie.

The basic theme seems to be six things that no one know about you - I am a dull person, but let's see what I can do here.

1) For an in-class presentation I once set a piece of paper on fire. Yes, I did manage to wrangle an A without setting off the fire alarm.

2) I have never eaten a brussels sprout and do not feel that this is a element lacking in my life.

3) Neither have I ever eaten cottage cheese.

4) This blog was named in part after Pilgrim's Progress and a cartoon in The New Yorker with (what else) lemmings in it. Since then, TNY has run quite a few lemming cartoons and I compulsively save them all. I know absolutely nothing else about lemmings.

5) I believe that I live with a ghost. I've only seen him once, but he moves and drops things, opens doors and generally reminds me that he's here. I'm not afraid of him, but I do believe that he's here, keeping an eye on things.

6) Um.... it's red.

Sam is still acting oddly. The tests all came back fine, but as soon as he finished taking the pills, Sam went back to acting oddly. I wish that I could actually talk to him, have ten minutes of conversation, and find out just what's going on. Thanks to all who asked.

author update

Last week I blogged about two parts of a passage from Ellen Glasgow's 1911 work The Miller of Old Church. A friend e-mailed to comment that though she couldn't remember a single thing about Glasgow, she had a gut feeling that Glasgow had been a big name in her time.

I did a little digging, and found a biography from circa 1960 which indicatd that, yes indeed, she had been. The story starts out exactly as you would expect of the stereotypical lady novelist of her era: ill health as a child, read extensively in the family library, not very close to parents but very close to a sister, etc.

Then I learned that she came to reject religion as a young adult and wanted instead to promote the rising middle class through her fiction. Much of the religious ruminating I found hilarious was in fact supposed to be hilarious (I stand corrected) and that the various class aspects were intentional.

The biographer praised Glasgow's scenery descriptions (I agree) and her general enthusiasm for writing. Apparently in her day, Glasgow was in a league with Edith Wharton and Willa Cather.

All right, so what happened? Well, the bigrapher noted some of the problems I have - the prose and language are dated and while concepts are good, the storylines are thin and repatative.

It's the old challenge, really - which of the authors making a storm today will be around and known in fifty years time? Stephen King? Yes, I think so. J.K. Rowling? Permanently ensconsed. Helen Fielding? I'm not so sure.

my dog

I have more than I want to say about Ellen Glasgow (vaguely interesting!) but at the moment am sitting by the phone. Sam has been acting very oddly of late, so I took him in to see the vet yesterday. This was hot on the heels of what I assume was my first ever migraine headache, so it was quite a day.

The vet found no immidiate problems, but took some blood (not his favorite moment) and I should hear soon about the bloodwork.

He's probably fine. It's probably no more than, well.. he's not young any more. The vet and I ran through a long list of possible problems and came up with nothing.

Anyway, am distracted, sorry.

literature, part II

(quote continued)

the scent of the raw, dark earth and for the gleam of the yellow moonlight on the wet, rustling leaves.

Downright pornographic.

This longing may come in adolescence, or many times until the frost of age has withered the senses. It may come amid the showery warmth and the roving fragrance of an April day, or beside the shining, brown, leaf-strewen streams of November.

Men are, I guess, interesting creatures.

(Roving and showering?)

more great literature

It's a very long story why I ended up with this book in my hands and before my eyes instead of Nancy Drew.

Anyway, today's literary quotation comes from Ellen Glasgow's 1911 work, The Miller of Old Church. Think American Thomas Hardy, but racist. The story, set in Virginia, is actually quite good, with a few interesting plot twists... but there's a lot (and I do mean a lot) of of people just standing around and expostulating. The narrator expostulates a lot, too.

It is a mood that comes once to every man - to some men more frequently - a mood in which the prehistoric memory of the soul is stirred, and an intolerable longing arises for the ancient nomadic freedom of the race; when the senses surfeited by civilization cry out for the strong meat of the jungle

It goes on. Men long not just for jungles and nomadic freedom and strong meat but, apparently, also for pottage.

I do not pretend to understand men, much as I like, admire and appreciate them. This information, however, casts an entirely new light upon them.

further literary moments

Taken from The GHost of Blackwood Hall

Mrs. Putney looked at the jeweler. "I cannot speak in your presence," she said haltingly. "I was warned never to tell any man or woman of this matter."

"That's why brought you to a girl detective," the jeweler said quickly. You'll be breaking no confidences in telling Nancy everything."

Nancy Drew is eighteen (pretty much permanently.) She's only enough to vote, make porn, buy cigarettes, serve in the military, get married without parental consent, be thrown out of foster care - indeed, in some counties of Nevada she could work as a prostitute.

"Girl detective" ei yi yi!

well, of course, it was obvious, wasn't it?

In honor of summer vacation, I've been rereading books I know that I read as a kid, but which I do not remember at all. On my last library trip, I picked up several Nancy Drew mysteries, including Password to Larkspur Lane.

I give away none of the intricate plot details in this post, I assure you.

In Chapter One, a pigeon crash-lands in Nancy's yard. A humantarian, Nancy is concerned for the creature's physical safety and well-being. OK, I buy that - pigeons may be public annoyances, but neither do I wish death upon such creatures. Nancy, as a compassionate being taking care of defenseless creatures sets a good example for the impressionable readers, fine.

Following a quick examination of the bird (Nancy somehow knows that no bones have been broken) her first reaction is, and I quote: I'll wire the International Federation of American Homing Pigeon Fanciers and give them the number stamped on the bird's leg ring.

OK, so the idea of sending a telegram is quaint and now impossible - the book was written in 1933, revised in 1966, so that's a nice historical moment/ touch for 21st century readers. At the same time, WHAT eighteen year old knows to contact such a group? Knows what their ID badges look like? Even knows that they exist? Combines this with an in-depth knowlege of botany?

This is probably why I have not reread the book in a while - though the implausibility of the stories has actually been a lot of fun.

lemming as super-hero?

Ah, yes, well, back to work then.

Just as soon as I've run my blogroll, checked the BBC headlines... so many possible methods of procrastination.

Last night I dreamd that I had some sort of secret double-life as a Zorro-esque figure. I suspect that I wasn't a particualrly efficient heroine, as most of my dream took place in a Bat Cave, complete with (why not?) an automatic latte maker.

rest and relaxation

It was so delicious to wake up at 6:15 this morning, look at the clock and then roll over and sleep until 9:30. Would that summer classes did not exist. (Oh, yeah, there's that paycheck thing.) Anyway, am enjoying my lie-in time while I still can.

I've occasionally blogged about Precocious Neighborhood Child, she who can scatch Sam's ears so well that in under thirty seconds he is prepared to reveal his Swiss bank account information, violate National Security and possibly offer to bear her children.

We chatted today, and somehow I came to observe that the current president had once been a cheerleader. You could tell, from the look on her face, that she had contemplated him in a skirt with pom-poms and doubted my sanity. "No, really! He yelled through megaphones and was one of the guys who tossed the girls up in the air and caught them!" She still wasn't persuaded, even though she knows I'm the wacky neighborhood history professor.

food groups

I've just learned that one of the reasons why the Giant Armadillo is an endagered species is that people kill it for the meat.

I realize that this is not a sentence one often types or utters. Pandas are endangered, but we talk about them because they are cute and cuddly. These are not words I often use when discussing armadillos... not that it's a topic I often discuss anyway.

Here's the bit about this information that I still cannot figure out; who would ever look at an armadillo and think, "oh, lunch!"

catch-up

Sorry no posts for such a long time. It's been a long and exciting last week of classes - final exam week - grading period - trying to catch up on all of the matters ignored during this time. If the student loan folks had any mercy (I know, they don't) they would simply bill us double in June and leave us alone in April or May (we'd get to choose which.)

With warm weather firmly in place, Sam is in his element - treeing squirrels, hurling curse-word barking at the cat next door, and trying to herd me off onto as many walks as possible.

I've blogged before that I loathe I-465... would happily set Sam onto the designers of the on and off ramps (tiny! too close together!) but must report that when I try to negotiate it at 10:45 PM on a Sunday, it's almost manageable!

Dear Students,

You are tired. I am tired. You are about to take four exams - I am about to grade, well, rather a lot more than four. I want to be available and helpful to you. I deliberately do not have any visits to the doctor, dentist, hairdresser or psychic (kidding, but Professor Trelawny would be helpful at the moment) scheduled for this month. I will come ine arly and stay late - but I cannot schedule individually time-convinient exams for each of you. Nor will I reveal secret exam details. You also may not try to make up for your fifteen unexcused abscences by claiming that my "new dress" is nice.

Your exam will cover material you have seen and heard before. The folks who will fail already know that they will fail (15 missed classes will do that.) Go home, get some sleep, and I'll se you tomorrow.

hugs and kisses,
Prof lemming

post #500

Bumper sticker seen yesterday: If it weren't for physics and law enforcement I'd be unstoppable.

Am buried under unceasing mounds of papers, quizzes, exams, extra credit assignments, etc. I used to log how many papers I graded each day as part of my blog... in the last 24 hours it's well into the hundreds. (Some are longer than others, obviously!) I'll still be teaching this summer, but it will be a reduced load, with a new class added, and I'm looking forward to the change.

a sobering week

I confess that the shootings in Virginia have hit me close to home. You can't teach for more than a month without encountering at least one student who worries you. In my time I've had quite a few, and there's one about whom I still have nightmares. (If I turn up dead, his name is one that should be investigated. I'm serious.)

Education becomes so personal, so intimate and yet because of its cyclical nature, it's easy for faculty and staff (and administration) to hope that "if I just get through this semester, the problem will be over." The problem forgotten by faculty will almost certanly live on for the student - heck, I'm still annoyed at the unprofessionalism of a prof I endured my freshman year.

I teach in a building with stout doors, ones that lock when closed. Since Monday I have faithfully closed (and thus locked) them at the start of class. So what did I do today? When someone knocked at the door, I opened it.

after seeing the records for Sam's latest visit

Oh, you're here! Thank goodness. I am pleased. Mind you, it's about time you showed up.
Hi Sam! Good dog.
ooo, yes, scratch my ears.

Do you know what she did to me?
Huh?
That vet lady. Do you know what she did to me?
The shots? Yeah, I'm sorry, but it's a law, and really, it's better for you in the long run, particularly since you chase wild game.
That's not what I mean and you know it. I've had shots before.

Do you mean the bath? I know you hate water and all, but truly, you really were in need of one.
The bath is all right. The ladies scratch my ears and gve me biscuits. I'd rather just have the biscuits and the fur-dryer session, but I can handle it.

(long pause)

I'm sorry - you're an older dog and, well, sometimes a dog's gotta, um, be examined in certain ways.

I may sulk.
How about I let you finish my taco?
Oh, OK, I forgive you. Now, about those ducks...

fowl, take II

This time it was geese from our fair neighbor to the north and, fortunately for them, they chose the neighbor's yard. Sam did his best woofing, but they understood the concept of "fence."

My neighbors are out of town, but will not be happy when they return. I wonder if the geese understand the concept of "man who owns guns" nearly as well... or do they already have personal injury lawyers on their speed dials?

birds! raven and the crow - and the goose and the duck -

One of the aspects to living in the "big city" and its surroundng environs which does not cease to amaze me: the waterfowl. That is to say, there are a lot of them. Flocks. Flocks of flocks.

Last week I was stalked by two Canada Geese as I walked from my office to the car - obviously I was too close to something and had beeter leave right away. That, or produce food.

This morning a pair of mallards was very obviously scoping out my backyard for a nesting location. The male was obviously on guard duty and the female was methodically waddling through the bushes and undergrowth.

"All right, Sam! outside! Look, Sam - ducks!"
Oh! Ducks!

The backyard is now poultry free.

elevators

Ok, now I know that we're a much more informal society than we were in the past. The Internet makes us all more connected and intimate than we were in the past. The past, the past and the past.

I fear that we've lost our sense of circumspection in the process. This morning I had the world's longest elevator ride, during which I listened to a group of students discuss the various reasons (and there were several) why they didn't take the chair's class seriously, why he is an easy grader, and the various lies they told to get out of handing in today's homework.

Hello?! Faculty here! Wearing nylons and high heels and very much too old to be one of you! Circumspection?

Yours in hoping that there's some way in which I can take this as a compliment,
lemming

my kind of rock stars

SINGING twins THE PROCLAIMERS celebrated their first UK No 1 yesterday -
by washing shirts and undies.

Unlike other pop stars who throw wild parties after topping the charts,
the Scots stars cleaned their smalls.

CRAIG REID, 45, who performs with brother CHARLIE on Comic Relief single
(I'm Gonna Be) 500 Miles, confessed they had run out of clean clothes
after a hectic few weeks promoting the song.

After learning they had hit the top spot by a mile after 20 years of
trying, Craig loaded the washer.

He said: "I spent the afternoon washing and ironing.

"I've hardly been at home because we've been so busy. I had no clean
shirts or underwear left so I had to get a load on. We're off working
for another six days so there was no other time to do it."

But Craig, of Edinburgh, did plan to toast the No 1 with his family -
after the ironing.

He said: "I'll have a wee drink and that'll be it."

one for Bartlett's

"Rin-Tin-Tin was a movie star. I just have a slide show."
-Al Gore

OK, we could all go on and on about the science behind global warming, is he a hypocrite, is Gore truly living what he says... but you have to admit, this is a great line.

a mature dog learns a new trick

Yesterday Sam begged and pleaded to accompany me to campus. "All right, dog, why not? It won't be too terribly hot or cold."

This is what I get for hitting the snooze alarm instead of listening to the weather forecast. Sam was in the car when the thunder and lightening and driving rain hit, hit, hit, pounded, pelted and otherwise asaulted teh area. By the time I could get back to him, Sam lay curled into the smallest possible ball of fur, nose in his tail. As soon as we got home, he immidiately sprawled out on his sofa, fast asleep, not to be heard from for several hours.

Despite my lack of caffeine, I notice that when he heard the sound of car keys this morning, Sam promptly disappeared.

Editor's Note: actually posted on Tuesday...

Friday musings

I've been trying to remember what it was about the Attny. General that I didn't like during the confirmation hearings. I don't mean his politics or policies or anything like that (though I disagree with him there as well) but there was something about his as a person that really turned my stomach. Then I managed to forget all about him - out of sight, out of mind, figured he was doing his job. With all of the latest news coverage, my stomach turns again. At least he was doing a job. (said she with a groan)

Even if the Republicans had managed a majority in Congress, I still think we'd have something of a lame duck situation in place. Everyone is hanging on for the 2008 elections.

NPR did a great piece the other morning about the president's Latin America tour, noting that he mentioned food in nearly all of his speeches. Perhaps he is tired, too.

vocabulary words

Now please bear in mind that I did not choose the textbook which I am about to lampoon. It's a standard "all of our classes use this book and we've always used this book and so the department sticks with it for this class" so I use it. Such is life and who am I to dictate otherwise? It allows me to complain to the students about it as much as they do. (All textbooks are to a certain extent awful.)

I'm prepping for this morning's class, which includes looking over what the kids have to read for homework. (insert theme music) "yes, yes, yes - OK, OK, got it, got it, that will be fun to explain, oh yeah, I should remember to tell them that - effluents?

I don't pretend to be a wordsmith, but given that each of us has a vocabulary of several thousand words... this one is clear in context but new to me. Who the ^&(*%$& do the textbook authors think are their readers?

At any rate, this will give me an extra 30 seconds of class material.

note to self

When arriving at work, do not park next to the car which is the same make, model number and color as mine.

This morning I happened to grouse about Daylight Saving Time (Maine!!! we share a time zone with Maine!!) in the hearing of a little boy, maybe eight years old. "Yeah," he replied, "that's Governor Darkness for you."

typical Monday

I put on a new pair of stockings at 6:30 AM.

By 10 AM, they had runs in both legs.

The British call stocking runs "ladders" which I've always thought a more accurate (and amusing) description.

book meme

I swiped this from Harriet - in case you wondered what to get me for my birthday... "People will insist upon giving me books." Harriet noted that it's a funny list, but I always enjoy looking at these - gives me ideas. (Most Harry Potters but only one Narnia)

Bold = books you've read?
italics = books you wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole or wish you hadn't


1. The Davinci Code (Dan Brown)
2. Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
3.To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee)
4. Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell)
5. The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Tolkien)
6. The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Tolkien)
7. The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers (Tolkien)
8. Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery)
9. Outlander (Diana Gabaldon)
10. A Fine Balance (Rohinton Mistry)
11. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Rowling)
12. Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
13.Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Rowling)
14. A Prayer for Owen Meany (John Irving)
15. Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)
16. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone (Rowling)
17. Fall on Your Knees(Ann-Marie MacDonald)
18. The Stand (Stephen King)
19. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Rowling)
20. Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)
21. The Hobbit (Tolkien)
22. The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger)
23. Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
24. The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
25. Life of Pi (Yann Martel)
26. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams)
27. Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
28. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis)
29. East of Eden (John Steinbeck)
30. Tuesdays with Morrie (Mitch Albom)
31. Dune (Frank Herbert)
32. The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks)
33. Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
34. 1984 (Orwell)
35. The Mists of Avalon (Marion Zimmer Bradley)
36. The Pillars of the Earth (Ken Follett)
37. The Power of One (Bryce Courtenay)
38. I Know This Much is True(Wally Lamb)
39. The Red Tent (Anita Diamant) gift from a student
40. The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)
41. The Clan of the Cave Bear (Jean M. Auel)
42. The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
43. Confessions of a Shopaholic (Sophie Kinsella)
44. The Five People You Meet In Heaven (Mitch Albom)
45. The Bible
46. Anna Karenina (Tolstoy)
47. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)
48. Angela's Ashes (Frank McCourt)
49. The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck) Never again!!!
50. She's Come Undone (Wally Lamb)
51.The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver)
52. A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens)
53. Ender's Game (Orson Scott Card)
54.Great Expectations (Dickens)
55. The Great Gatsby (Fitzgerald)
56. The Stone Angel (Margaret Laurence)
57. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Rowling)
58. The Thorn Birds (Colleen McCullough)
59. The Handmaid's Tale (Margaret Atwood) blew my mind
60. The Time Traveller�s Wife (Audrey Niffenegger)
61. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky)
62. The Fountainhead (Ayn Rand)

Two Ayn Rand novels?

63. War and Peace (Tolstoy)
64. Interview With The Vampire (Anne Rice)
65.Fifth Business (Robertson Davis) incredible book
66. One Hundred Years Of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
67. The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants (Ann Brashares)
68. Catch-22 (Joseph Heller)
69 Les Miserables (Hugo)
70.The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery) (French and English)
71. Bridget Jones' Diary (Fielding)
72. Love in the Time of Cholera (Marquez)
73. Shogun (James Clavell)
74. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje) (I need to as I love the film)
75. The Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson Burnett)
76. The Summer Tree (Guy Gavriel Kay)
77.A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Betty Smith)
78.The World According To Garp (John Irving)
79.The Diviners (Margaret Laurence)
80.Charlotte's Web (E.B. White)
81. Not Wanted On The Voyage (Timothy Findley)
82. Of Mice And Men (Steinbeck)
83. Rebecca (Daphne DuMaurier)
84. Wizard's First Rule (Terry Goodkind)
85. Emma (Jane Austen)Even Austen screws up sometimes
86. Watership Down(Richard Adams)
87. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
88. The Stone Diaries (Carol Shields)
89. Blindness (Jose Saramago)
90. Kane and Abel (Jeffrey Archer)
91. In The Skin Of A Lion (Ondaatje)
92. Lord of the Flies (Golding)
93. The Good Earth (Pearl S. Buck)
94. The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
95. The Bourne Identity (Robert Ludlum)
96. The Outsiders (S.E. Hinton)
97. White Oleander (Janet Fitch)

Would like to read this one - I sense a library run in my future

98. A Woman of Substance (Barbara Taylor Bradford)
99. The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield)
100.Ulysses (James Joyce)

Not even if it was the last book on earth...

life in the fast lane

What with all of the nasty weather we've had of late, I am the last (and I do mean the last) to disparage someone driving slowly when it's dark, the roads are slick, etc.

However when the roads are clear, the sun is shining and I'm running late, I have little patience for people who drive 40 m.p.h. in a 55 zone. It's called a "speed limit sign" - have you looked at it lately?

Perhaps my Lenten resolution should have been to have patience with such people (OK, that will be next year.) The problem is that these drivers force the line of cars beind them (ten by my count today) to make a decision not perhaps best made early on a Monday morning; to pass or not to pass? Do we chance the head-on collision associated with passing? (Depends upon how late we're running, I suspect.) At the same time, at what point does the slow driver have a responsibility to pull over and allow the line of cars to pass by before resuming their speed? Assuming that this (twenty-something) woman had a reason for going fifteen miles under the speed limit (transmisson? low on gas?) shouldn't she notice all of the cars passing and pull over?

This subject was not, to the best of my memory, covered in Driver's Ed.

On another note: I have not seen any of the Oscar-nminated films. I have no doubt that Last King of Scotland is terrific. I still wish that Peter O'Toole had won Best Actor, after SEVEN previous nominations.

two firsts

Everything is starting to melt, which of course means that the streets are safe, but the sidewalks are a mess of black ice. This is the time of year when I wonder why I like Indiana so much.

It was an exciting weekend, and I experienced two unexpected firsts: a pedicure (my feet feel so clean!) and I finallyheard "Thriller." Yes, somehow I managed to be alive during the 1980s and miss this song. Oh, I knew "Billie Jean" and various other hits off that album, but I'd missed the title track.

My reaction to "Thriller" bears a striking resemblence to my reaction the first time I heard "Hit Me Baby One More Time" - this is it?

Speaking of which, Ms Spears is selling her hair on eBay, or so I am told by persons hipper than I. I do hope someone is around to catch her when she finally crashes.

swift as a coursing river

I woke up this morning with a horrible pit-of-the-stomach feeling that my class outline for today sucked. No amount of good humor or "yes, I hate the textbook too" would help. Crap. Crap crap crap and several other swear words

on the drive to work, reconfigured the whole thing in my mind, and then kicked some serious teacher butt.

Bear in mind that I am not "qualified" to teach college classes full time.

On a happier note, the roads are clear. I have been so impressed by the Indianapolis road crews over the last three days - I helped by staying off the roads (my first snow day in how many years?!) while they strapped snow-plows to garbage trucks and kept the roads clear.

A spcial thanks to the woman who helped push me out of teh frozen slush today. What can I say, I had an urge to recycle...

yet another post about Indiana weather

The snow started sometime last night and kept right on going. I credit the road crews; at about 6 AM my street was plowed, presumably salted, and if I had suffered from a serious need (hospital, prescription refill, etc.) I probably could have made it to the main road and thus to the Walgreens. It would have been a slow trip, and I'd have prayed the entire way that I didn't see any other cars, but possible.

Then the freezing rain started in, the wind started blowing - the streets are covered again, and a step outside means thousands of needles slapping into your bare skin. Sam (who at least has fur) dashed outside and back inside in somehing less then twenty seconds.

Much of Indianapolis seems to have wisely chosen (or been ordered) to stay at home ans off the streets. At least we knew this was coming and could plan accordingly. Alas, this is terrifc weather to stay inside and grade papers, something I can do just as well either here or at the office.

from the trenches

As is typical for this time of the semester, I have students who are ghosts - they show up on my roster, but have yet to attend a class, turn in an assignment or otherwise make themselves known.

It is a relief to tell the bureaucrats to cut them - a few less exams to grade, reports to file, homeworks to pile up.

Yet I wonder why, what happened, could it have been stopped, and my worries now carry extra weight in light of my own life. I got lost in the shuffle, in the larger world of four PhDs who forgot about me, ignored me, didn't remember that I told them I needed something. Did these folks get lost? Did they feel ignored? Or were they just so caught up in being young and foolish that they didn't belong in college in the first place? Far too may of these folks are locals - did they go home too often, watch the Colts and forget about class? IS it s local problem? An Indiana problem? Does my teaching style induce amnesia?

No Child Left Behind has left behind the best 25% and the worst 25% and focused upon the middle half who can get through, pass a test and not rock the boat. How do we teach the need to go the extra mile?

the coffee pots

I'm still trying to work out the coffee pot ettiquette. The very benevolent woman who runs the department (i.e. the administrative assistant) is very assiduous about firing up the pots the moment she arrives in the building, sometimes even befroe she takes off her coat. She knows that some of us will need it... the question is, at what point do I make another pot? I assume that most of the coffee drinking takes place before noon, even on the coldest and snowiest of days. I also know that my need for a hit at 6 AM is other people's 2 PM addiction.

This is also an issue, as I've noticed that many folks take the last cup from the pot, but do not make another. Is this a rule? Is the administrator the only one allowed to make the coffee? Do we have a specific monthly (weekly?) ration and she doles it out?

If it is rationed, I say we take the extra out of the salary of the man with the office next to mine. He keeps spilling.

Rex & Peyton

Is the weekend over? Thanks goodness. Yay Colts, poor Bears (Rex Grossman can be so good and yet not so good, all at once) but I do love a local happy ending. I passed myself off as truly informed at the coffee pots this morning. I devoutly hope that the Pacers do not make the play-offs, as I don't think I could take the further strain.

Meanwhile, may I just say that I kicked some serious teaching butt today, even among the hungover masses. In fact, yes, I can say it and I just did. I love my job and to **** with my ex-committee members.

Meanwhile, I have finally heard a Brittney Spears song on the radio. Eh? This is what all of the fuss is about?

football redux

lemming: I mean, I'm pretty clueless and all, but I think the Colts stand a good chance of not totally blowing the Super Bowl.

fellow academic: Right. I mean, it's not as though the Pariots have won the Super Bowl lately.

Yours in having done her Super Bowl pop culture research,
l

Colts Post III

In Sign #6.5 of the impending apacolypse (sorry, John B. but it's true!) I purchased a newspaper yesterday for the express purpose of reading the sports section, or at least as much of it as pertains to the Colts. What did I find? A quote from the coach aboutManning. (rolls eyes)

I think I have all of my pop culture bits down now, thanks to my assiduous cram session. If in line at the grocery store or standing around the coffee pot, I have enough trivia so that I can blend in. (We have a new second departmental coffee pot! Two of 'em! Such luxury!)

another Colts post - from me, no less!

I've been actively looking for more on Coach Dungy (thanks, Nomo, I did see that piece, but you're sweet to mention it) but still think that more should be said (or at least sound-bitten) about him. There's an old trope even I know about which says that when a team loses, it is the fault of the coach, but when they win, the players should get the congratulations. I guess I'm looking for more of a city-wide "hurrah!" toward the coach (coaches, trainers, physical therapists, support staff, etc.) rather than the latest update on Peyton Manning's thumb.

Long-time - heck, even short-time - visitors to this blog know that my interest in football is casual at best, though I am very pleased and proud of the Colts (hey! and the Pacers! they had a good game!) With all of the blue flags, window hangings, t-shirts, and whatnot that I see around here, I am surprised that so few places seem to have them for sale. I'd don a t-shirt or wave a flag if I had one, yet the local grocery stores and ye audle bigge boxxe storees do not seem to have anything other than Colts-emblazoned beer. Whiel it might be fun to walk about all day with a Colts beer can in my hand, it doe stend to cut down on that appearance of professionalism...

a potentially heretical statement

Ok, OK, yes, I'm happy for the Colts. Yes, the comeback was quite impressive. Believe it or not, I even watched part of the game and understood it. (No, it wasn't the commercials, thank-you very much.) Peyton Manning seems like a great guy and, to my delight, even speaks in complete sentences when interviewed.

Why (and I am serious in this question) is it that none of the commentators I've heard/ read/ seen have commented upon the Colts coach? I assume he is at least partially responsible for this season's achievements, but I couldn't give his you his name if my life depended upon it. Apart from his race, I know nothing about the coach, no one ever seems to mention him - ???

the rule of dogs

Hey there.
I'm busy, Sam.

Hey.
What is it, dog?
Oh, nothing....

Hey.
Sam - out?
Oh, don't mind me.

Hey.
Sam, I love you deeply, but I'm busy. What is it that you want>
Oh, well, if you're busy...

Hey.
Sam, you are supposed to be my canine companion, not some sort of mind-game generative (insert several other multi-syllabic words only suitable for such occasions as these)
Well, if you're going to be like that, all right, I think I'd like to go outside and bark at the squirrels for a while.

Yeah, thought so.

Who, me?

if we took the bones out...

I'm working on some upcoming homework assignments.

They need enough leeway for the frightened freshmen, hiding in the middle row, but also for the bright ones to have fun and that I can catch the cheaters without too much searching.

At the same time, I like slightly quirky assignments, ones that might inspire a few extra jokes from the students or at least keep me amused. I'm thinking of something having to do with time travel or fairylands.

I suspect that this flight of fancy has something to do with my residual feelings about Helen Hill, but the greyness of Indiana winter doesn't help much. There's no harm in a little escapism, is there? (I hope)

Helen Hill

One of the blogs to which I link is written by Editor B. B and his wife, Xy, were flooded out by Hurricane Katrina, but returned to New Orleans as soon as they could.

If you've listened to NPR in the last few days, you've heard about the latest round of murder in the city, and about the rallies being held. Helen Hill sounds like the kind of woman I wish I could have known; her husband survived the attack, while wrapping his body around their toddler, a literal human sheild.

B and XY knew Helen Hill; he's written several entries in the last week. They're not easy reads, but probably some of the most important pieces I will read all year. His memories of Hill and observations on the city and her problems should be required reading for - well, fill in the blank with a good long list.

RIP.

Historian Arrested for jay-walking

I grant you that the article does show a bit of bias in favor of the professor in question. Nonetheless, it's an interesting insight into the Atlanta legal system through the eyes of a foreign scholar.

You've Got to Start Somewhere

A Public Service Announcement:

it's = it is

its = ownership.

This is probably the most common mistake writers of English (be it student papers, blogs or what have you) make in their everyday prose.

Now, for those of us who are simply chattering away and get it wrong, all right. We should (and do) know better, but OK. However I expect better things from publishing. In rereading Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz last night, I observed that it's was always used to show ownership, even though it is wrong, wrong, wrong. L.Frank Baum didn't do this - it's some (insert swear word) editor who figured that this author person has been dead for 90 years and didn't know what he was doing at the time.

"It's a lovely day." = It is a lovely day.

"The Colts are getting a new stadium and it's terrific." = The Colts are getting a new stadium and it is terrific (meanwhile I use the pile of dirt as a navigational landmark.)

"I have a new calendar. Its pictures are all funny." = I have a new calendar. The pictures which belong to it (ITS, people, no apostrophe!) are reasonably amusing.

the positive and the negative

In line at the grocery store (no liquor sales tomorrow, must stock up now) I stood behind a mother and daughter pair, the daughter maybe eight years old. The mother had a copy of the local paper in hand, complete with "Hussein Hanged" headline. She was trying, with far more patience than I feel at the moment, to explain to her child just who this person was, why executed, etc. "Well, all right, but what does he have to do with the war? Is this like the airplanes and the big buildings in New York?"

The execution accomplished naught except pleasing some people and creating a martyr for others. I suppose that's a positive.

On a happier note, I've just stumbled across a truly wonderful blog, oz and ends by a historian who also writes (and obviously loves_ children's literature. Any blog stumble that results in twenty minutes of reading is obviously a keeper.

If I don't make it on line tomorrow, a very Happy new year to one and all. Wishing us joy, laughter and peace in 2007.

one of the last of the good men

I've always had a soft spot for Gerald Ford.

In a world of political chaos and treachery, Ford strove to rise above the fray, protect the nation and never mind the expense to his own political career or ambitions. How many people would describe a call to the presidency as a duty? as a part of civic responsibility? GWB feels "called by God" and WJC worked for decades to reach the Oval Office but that's not the same thing.

Ford was one of the last of the good guys and a dog lover to boot. A very sincere RIP to a man who did a very hard job to the very best of his ability and certainly far better than I would have coped under a more generous set of historical events.

happiness!

I heard it! I heard it! I heard it!

All I want for Christmas...

Now I can go back to thinking of Mariah Carey as a very bizarre and flawed talent.

a happier note

Speaking of holiday music, as we've been, I've been trying to sing one of my favorite songs of the season in the car. The problem is that "Jesus Child" by John Rutter is written for four parts and, alas, I do not have an alto, tenor and bass along with me for these trips.

"Jesus Child" is written to be sung at a very fast "spit out the consonants" tempo and if you lose concentration for even a moment you'll be behind for the next five pages. Thus it is a glorious fun to ride the musical wave of knowing that you are at exactly the right point, know which notes are next and when you get to make a brief gasp. It's difficult to learn, but just a glorious joyride of a piece to sing once you've learned it.

I did hear Adam Sandler's "Hannukah Song" on the radio yesterday; not nearly as good as his one about Thanksgiving.

regional Christmas

I'm becoming quite envious of Harriet's Christmas experience. I heard (scanned past) "Little Drummer Boy" four times this morning, electing instead to listen to the BBC coverage of the conclusion of the Diana investifation, which is at least cheerful. Meanwhile Harriet obviously only hears the song occasionally, but has had it up to here with Mariah Carey.

Not only does she have these musical advantages, but she lives around people with strange ideas about creche displays. (A Homer Simpson theme?)

Quite a few folks around here set up their glow-up outdoor creches the day after Thanksgiving. They will take them down on December 26. I think they're mostly pretty ugly, but rarely amusing.

Maybe it's the history teacher in me (OK, it is) but let's have a little accuracy here. Mary and Joseph only got to Bethlehem the night of Jesus' birth. The shepherds didn't come to teh stable until after Jesus was born and the angels gave them a quick heads up. The Wise Men didn't start out on their epic trip until they saw the star in the east and there's no star until after Jesus' birth.

Ergo, the only creatures in the stable as of December 13 should be the animals.

Then there's the issue of was Jesus really born on December 25, because shepherds wouldn't have been in the fields with lambs until spring... oh, never mind.

I am a grinch of music

That does it!!!!

If I hear "Little Drummer Boy" once more I shall scream, and I don't mean that in a rhetorical, ironic or otherwise over used cliche sense.

The song its self is fine - all gifts that we have are important, little things can bring even more joy than big thngs (much of the time, anyway... still waiting to find out how happy that that diamond tennis bracelet might make me) and "rum pum pum pum" is probaby more scintillating as lyrics go for the folks who get stuck with the harmony.

The problem is that it's been recorded by everyone and their Uncle Fred.

Have I heard "All I Want For Christrmas is You" yet? Of course not. It's all "rum pum pum pum." One Mariah Carey moment as I grade papers, is that too much to ask?

rum pum pum pum

for what it's worth, it was worth all the while

The semester is winding down. There's a frantic scramble amomng some students to catch up with last minute details, while others have worked ahead and can calmly anticipate the exam. The quiet kids (why is it always the quiet kids?!) are coming out of the woodwork to say that they love my class and what will I teach next semester?

(No clue.)

The bottom feeders and ankle biters are trying to rouse my sympathies, patience and indulgence, sometimes indulgences.

I love the seasonal aspect of teaching. We build up to mid-terms, rest for a moment, then race to exams, before collapsing into the wonderful holiday embrace, be it Christmas or the fun of summer vacation. A series of sprints, in a sense, I suppose, but it's also a long-distance trek. Long after my young 'uns have returned home or started logging extra hours at work, I will be reading and reading their final work, calculating and recalculating their grades.

It's rare for me to be satisfied, but I am satisfied with this semester. Remind me again how having a Ph.D. would make it any better?

OK, job security - but other than that? I have done well and so have they.

sudden discoveries

While looking through a desk drawer, I found an uneaten Cadbury Cream Egg.

Elderly? Maybe. Delicious? You betcha.

famous last words

Tomorrow should be the easiest, funniest, most enjoyable teaching day of the semester. I have depth and breadth in everything I must discuss and lecture upon, and plenty of canned jokes besides.

This probably means total classroom failure, but I am an optimist.

By the by, I've had the chance to use one of my favorite lines on several occasions recently. I try hard to present historical figures in a neutral light. "Well, lemming was a sneak, a liar and a murderer" sounds dreadful, but if you add a few details, plus throw in the observation that I'm fond of my mother or encouraged the Visigoths to invent central plumbing or told Warren Harding that his Cabinet was corrupt, well, it sounds better.

One of my classes is on to me. I'll try to prevaricate, combining the positive with the negative and they'll pause. "So, lemming was a dreadful person who deserved a painful death," one of them will observe. "Well," I casually say, "I'd have phrased it more gracefully myself..." I stole this line. I claim no credit - but I do deliver it well.

(ego ego ego ego)

Still no word if my contract has been renewed for spring semester.

and what a lovely morning!

I was surprised to discover a full classroom the morning before Thanksgiving break - surely at least a few of them would leave early for break? No. I do notice that, now that we're all back, attendance has dropped. I think they're every bit as tired as I.

seasonal music

Jason has spent the past few weeks in eager preparation for playing as much Christmas music as possible immidiately if not sooner. As long as I don't spend too much time in malls or drug stores during the next few weeks, I'll share his enthusiasm. There's a sufficient variety of seasonal music out there that, if done right, you will will hear a little bit of everything over the weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

At the same time, it does seem a pity that we don't have a few traditional Thanksgiving tunes. I've been wracking my brains (too much time in the car today - 200 miles) and I've only come up with two: the university football team fight song of your choice and the hymn "We Gather Together."

I know the words (most of them) to two U fight songs, UMich and Georgia Tech. Both a nice, rousing "yay team" tunes, but neither mentions turkey or family.

"We Gather" starts out well - "We gather together to ask the Lord's blessing" OK, that's good. Then then we get "He hastens and chastens His will to make known." I've had plenty of hastening and chastening this year and am no closer to knowing His will. "The wicked oppressing" - eeek! Quickly we enter less cozy territory. Are there any seasonal tunes that are a tad more, well, positive? Thankful?

marks on a page

I'm one of those people who writes in books - underlines critical phrases, asterisks main arguments, etc. It's pretty much impossible to get through graduate school without adopting some sort of marking up habits and after you start grading papers and exams, well, the compulsion to comment on everything written becomes hard to overcome. I loved my 19th century British Lit class in college, but I never would have gotten through Vanity Fair (which I loved!) without notes to myself as to what on earth all of those obscure words and phrases meant. (Probably less obscure 100 years ago, or had I been older, but no matter.)

I also tend to mark up textbooks these days, if only to help myself remember what it is that I want the class to discuss next week. One of the books I'm using at the moment (not of my selection) has downright beautiful illustrations even if the authors deserve to be taken out back and beaten with my old copy of Vanity Fair for their appalling prose and lack of detailed explanation of major points.

Last night I think I committed an unforgiveable sin - I started doodling and drawing pictures in the margins, filling up every available milimeter of space with squiggles and inter-connected triangles. This did nothing to inhence my unedrstanding of the authors' intentions or improve my teaching, but it did make the time go more quickly.

of animals with tails

I don't know a great deal about squirrels, and most of what I do know is as a result of watching Sam chase them. He's spent a busy afternoon stalking them around the back yard. I am convinced that they laugh behind their paws as they scamper toward acorns and away from him.

Lots of squirrels live in the neighborhood trees - I haven't personally counted all of them, though I'm sure Sam has. Most are ordinary looking, but one is unusually small, not much bigger than a mouse. For a long time I thought I must be imagining, that it was just a chipmunk with long fur. Following further conversation with neighbors, I've learned that several of us have seen it and all assumed that we were hallucinating, etc. Right now it's perched outside my window, staring at me (and, presumably, Sam) in a manner best descrbed as saucy.

At least I know it's for real!

no Cassandra am I

rarely have I been so pleased about being wrong.

I still stand by the Whig Party comparison - all right, you're the opposition, now what will you do with it?

I should hear in the next two weeks as to whether or not my evaluation went well. One of my adjunct gigs is mine for life, pretty much, but I'd like ot keep the other as well.

Meanwhile Sam is chasing squirrels.

a prediction

The Republicans will retain control of both the House and the Senate.

I base this prognostication upon the BBC reports. In 2004, the BBC reporteres were confident that John Kerry would win. Now they are confident that Congress will enter the hands of the Democrats.

As the Whig party found out in the 19th century, a platform which consists of "I am opposed to the party in power" just isn't enough.

I was wondering what the "eek" could be about, and then it occurred to me: you hate to be embarrassed by your department chair getting down on the floor, hugging your ankles, smooching your feet, and crying over and over, "We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

Oh, Bartleby, would that such were possible!

The chair is one of the nicest people I've met in a long time and word through the grapevine is that while he won't be casual or perfunctory in his evaluation, I shouldn't lose sleep over it.

At the same time, said chair is best described as "inscrutable." In other words, he's hard to read. Therein lies the source of my neurosis. Naturally, he has opted to attend the class about which I am least confident. On the other hand, the students (to my astonishment and delight) do seem to not only pay attention, but to retain the material, sometimes better than I.

terror

I am about to be evauluated.

I really like my present job.

A lot - a big, huge lot.

Eek!

'What will your obituary say?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Well, I suppose there are worse fates...

a trade secret

I'll let you in on a trade secret: when teachers write an exam, thwy do it with two important factors in mind. First, does the test fairly examine what the students learned (or ought to have learned) from that particualr section of the course? Second (and nearly as important) which topics, personalities, etc, can I stand to read about over and over and over and over in a fairly short period of time?

There's one in the pipeline at the moment. My students have, with less and less subtlety, been trying to weasel hints out of me. Do you suppose this was enough of a hint?

fund raising idea

Cities, towns, etc. are always short on funds for worthy projects, ranging from schools to roads to libraries to health care for the poor. I have come up with the answer, and it doesn't involve bake sales: parking tickets.

To be more specific, anyone who pulls into a fire zone and doesn't immidiately drop off a handicapped, heavily pregnant or otherwise classified "person in need of a short walk" then pull away to park will be ticketed to the tune of, oh $1000. The ticketee will complain bitterly, but I guarantee you that no matter how many tickets they earn, the ticketee will do it again.

I've noticed this trend several times today - on campus, at the library, grocery store, church - and out of thirty-nine cars (yes, I counted) only one pulled up, droppped someone off and moved on, as is required by law.

Such smugness on my part is only possible because I can honestly state that I've never parked in a fire zone. I saw the film Backdraft right about the time that I was learning to drive. There's a moment when a fire truck pulls up to a building and the way is blocked by a very expensive sports car. The fire department them is entitled to break all of its windows and pretty much trash it because they need to get to the burning building, damnit, and save the 10, 000 people trapped inside. Thanks to director Ron Howard, I got the message!

So many of your who scored a mere 60% and I rank as a 100% nameless guest figure? Is that ever good for my ego...

Ego, what ego?

My student loan payments kick in as of November 1. In other words, I will be reminded at least once a month for ten years that I failed out of grad school. This will trouble my advisor (who I hope is happy) and #2 (who maybe can have nice days) not a whit and will not even occur to #3 and #4 so may they die in - well, may they at least be miserable, though it won't happen as they are well insulated.

Target is hiring seasonable employees. #2 and advisor would be horrified that the idea of making $7/hour is appealing, but neither would they offer to help with the bills. I am qualified to do much, but paid to do little.

Sorry so morose - positive thoughts later.

Quiz - a tad more serious

I posted the last quiz with a firm sense of humor.

This one is rather creepier.

Your results:
You are An Expendable Character (Redshirt)

An Expendable Character (Redshirt) 100% Deanna Troi 95% James T. Kirk (Captain) 75% Geordi LaForge 75% Uhura 65% Chekov 60% Will Riker 60% Beverly Crusher 60% Mr. Scott 60% Jean-Luc Picard 60% Leonard McCoy (Bones) 60% Spock 54% Data 27% Worf 20% Mr. Sulu 0%

Since your accomplishments are seldom noticed, and you are rarely thought of, you are expendable. That doesn't mean your job isn't important but if you were in Star Trek you would be killed off in the first episode you appeared in.

Click here to take the "Which Star Trek character are you?" quiz...


This is rather what I've always suspected - I'm not a star. My ex-advisor (who I hope leads a reasonably happy life, be it short or long, preferably wracked with guilt) is s star. He's rank as a Picard. How apt is this ranking? Ye gads.

ours in humility
(no more quizes!)
lemming

I'm who?

It's been a few decades since I watched the Superfriends, but my only memory of Green Lantern is that his mask stayed on without any sort of support.

Your results:
You are Green Lantern

Green Lantern 100% Spider-Man 95% Wonder Woman 75% Hulk 65% Catwoman 60% Iron Man 55% Robin 52% The Flash 50% Supergirl 45% Superman 30% Batman 20%

Hot-headed. You have strong will power and a good imagination.

Click here to take the "Which Superhero are you?" quiz...

ko-hoh! ko-hoh!

There are several different routes that I could take to work, but the one which is generally the shortest is also the prettiest. The road winds along past sheep pastures, plus the occasional horses, cows and, to my astonishment, swans.

The first time I drove past the swan pond, I assumed that the fog or my bleary eyes misled the active part of my brain. On following trips, I watched for the pair again. It took me a while to realize that on some mornings they swam in their pond, and on others simply dozed in the grass, under the weeping willow tree.

I'm curious about this pair; clearly this is home, but for how long? Why do they not waddle into the road as with the Canadian Geese who seem to have invaded suburban Indianapolis on such mornings? There's no visible fense, and with everything I've been told about the potential agressiveness of swans, I can't imagine installing the collars for an invisible fence.

rant revisited

My rant about the draft has generated more comments and more "blog traffic" than I ever anticipated, so a follow up.

I am a firm believer in the old maxim of "put your money where your mouth is." It's very easy to put a bumper sticker or magnet on the back of a car, or wear a purple heart band-aid. However I believe that such choices should only be made if the consequences are taken on as well.

An annonymous comment on my rant begins:

How does the draft = if you support the war then fight in it.

Um, it does. If you support the war, you should be prepared to fight in it. During World War II (the gold standard of wars) people over the age of 18 fought. People over the age of 40 organized the black-out drills, Victory Gardens, administered rationing, etc. Dropping a box of wet wipes into a collection box at Kroger isn't the same thing.

There are alot of young people who do not support the war and I don't see how making them join the war is going to help anything.

Huh? Did you actually read what I said? These are not the folks I want to be drafted. The people with the bumper stickers get drafted, not the people who oppose the war. By the way, "a lot" is two words.

I say NO to the draft. If they need troops then offer good incentives for young men and women to join......like a living salary, better benefits and combat pay.

No disagreement from me on that point.

Americans have always responded when in need at war time. They will continue to do that into the future.

Ah, but that response takes many forms. Again, consider the WW II ration program and imagine trying to implement it today. Wouldn't happen. Apart from the inevitable lawsuits, Americans are not willing to be restricted, even if it means supporting the troops. Yes, we'll respond, but where are the 60, 000 additional soldiers going to come from? There aren't enough volunteers for the present need and to carry out the present need well. We're going to see troops serving multiple tours of duty ever longer and closer together.

All branches of the military have exceeded their quotas and will continue to do so. Young people do not have to join the military to get an education. If they did it's because their parents & guidance counselors did not take the time to advise them of what's available. Joining the military for money for college is a cop out. There is money available if you're willing to sacrafice and work for it.

This connects to my post how? I said nothing at all about this. I'm actually all in favor of giving educational credits to military folks, but I have no idea how this is related to my argument that we need 60, 000 additional troops and should get them from the bumper sticker people.

Why do I think Americans should be held to a higher standard? Two reasons. 1) We're the last super-power and 2) because we're Americans. If we are truly the greatest nation on Earth, we should prove it - in other words, put our actions where we've put our words.

here endeth the rant revisited.

on teaching

I'm exausted. Every time I hear someone say that teachers work wimpy hours, with summers off and all sorts of holidays, I want to scream, "yeah, you do what I do and then say that." Teaching is not only mentally hard (you grade 100 essays on the Lewis & Clark expedition without turning to vodka) but hard on the body as well. Teachers have to be perky and "on" all day - no coffee breaks, just there. 110%, all the time, whether in front of a blackboard, in the elevator, walking along the main path of campus, etc.

I love what I do, but it does wear me down. Right now I'm really looking forward to a hot bath, a large glass of merlot and an early bedtime.

Then I do a blogroll check and read about Xy's work as a teacher in New Orleans and feel quite ashamed of my weakness. I may invest heart and soul into what I do, but my students do not face the same challenges or dangers, God willing.

onward, onward and onward

Lemming progresses.

It happens more slowly than I would like most days, but as I plow through the first set of exams and assignments, I can see that I have actually managed to teach something to everyone. I've never done of one my current courses before, so I keep waiting to be called an imposter and sent out - yet I seem to be able to communicate not only the material, but a passion for it.

Wow.

I am sickened by and having nightmares about the attack on the Amish schoolhouse. Unlike so many events that are described as "freak accidents" this truly was unpredictable and probably unpreveventable. Nonetheless it is horrific. Listenng to the BBC radio reports, I am struck by how frequently the British commentators expect that this will somehow change American gun policy.

Please don't get me wrong - nothing in current or future gun laws cold have prevented this from happening. Still, it doesn't improve our international standing.

Yours in pondering national and foreign policy,
lemming

Warning: rant ahead

Bring back the draft.

I teach American History. I do not utter those words lightly.

Rational but informed military figures have indicated that 60, 000 additional soldiers are needed for the war in Afghanistan and Iraq. I am still not clear as to why we entered this zone of the world in a military fashion, but now that we're there, we should do the thing properly. I'm of the opinion that as Americans we should be held to a higher standard and if we're going to do this "thing" for another three+ years (if not more, as seems quite likely) we should do it properly.

Our present military force is strained, exausted and needs, nay deserves, assistance and support. 60, 000 additional military folks can only be obtained through reinstituting the draft. All right then - if this is truly war, as I keep being told it is, then make it so.

However, I (in my control of the country) wish to reconstruct the terms of the draft. Unlike Vietnam, we will not send the poor, the minorities, the under-educated (remember, in the 1960s college professors were warned that poor grades would land a student on the front line) and the unconnected. No. This time, Americans will be forced to show how deeply they believe in their bumper stickers. Everyone with a "United We Stand" "Support Our Troops" and "GWB '04" emblem on their car must send a family member to serve in the Middle East. If you support the war enough to put on a sticker (or magnet) then you support it enough to send a loved one over there and, no, I don't mean the Texas National Guard.

I have another student scrambling to complete his classwork before being shipped back (and I emphasize back) to Iraq. He seems like a really great guy - and every time he leaves my office, I want to cry.

weather musings

When I first looked out the window this morning, it looked to be a grey, glum, chilly Indiana day. There's not a shred of sunshine, everything is wet from last night's drenching and the leaves have begun to depart from the trees. Oddly enough, I haven't noticed any leaves still on the trees changing color, but the pile ups, now very slimy, have begun.

Then I remembered that said window, the one I can peer from without leaving bed, was open and my room wasn't cold. Instead of having his tail wrapped around his nose in "woman, what are you thinking?!! It's freezing in here! Close that window!" Sam was happily sprawled out, fast asleep, and occupying as much geography as possible. Perhaps this morning (day) wouldn't be quite so much like the land of Mordor after all.

Sam is none too happy about the wet ground. On mornings like this I imagine walking ahead of him with a hairdryer to dry out the landscape. Much as I love my dog, I don't love him that much, though I'm certain he would approve of the idea.

My neighbor assures me that dreadful weather is due to blow in later this morning, with perhaps a few plagues of locusts and frogs thrown in for good measure. Meanwhile, I'll enjoy what I have: a fresh cup of coffee, a happy dog and forty-eight hours in which to plow through a pile of homework assignments.

thought to ponder

"Success and failure are greatly overrated. But failure gives you a whole lot more to talk about."
- Hildegard Knef

How so very true.

By the by, I had a fantastic work day today. I may be a PhD failure (the initial topic of this blog) but I'm by no means through in the classroom. Thanks be to God, Alleluia, alleluia.

weekend plans

I love teaching - one student, a room full of 500 - it's all fun.

It's the writing of horkwork assignments and exam questions (and the grading of the same) which is less fun. HJowever, being as I sent in another student loan payment today, I'm grateful to be employed.

I dreamed last night that I had on pajamas and a bathrobe, but was in a state of panic at tryiong to put on a second bathrobe before answering the door. I prefer not to examine the symbolic possibilities too closely!

may I blame MD?

It is 8:15 AM.

It is dark.

Why on (swear word) (swear word) is Indiana on Eastern Time??!!

Dark, I tell you, it is dark outside.

a threat

Dear Neighbor,

It's 8:30 PM on a school night. You have been pounding away at your gutters since 7:00 AM. Kindly cease and desist or I will throw what's left of my high heels at you.

P.S. your dog is silly.

footwear

I do not understand the fetish/ obsession/ adoration most women seem to have for shoes. I own perhaps five pairs, counting boots. This is because shoe stores are among my least favorite shopping excusions.

Through some bit of potluck, I'd managd to find a pair of heels that looked dressy, matched nearly all of my teaching clothes and were actually comfortable to wear for eight hours straight (bear in mind that I'm on my feet for most of that time.) Said shoes have now betrayed me and I am grateful for Motrin. (sighs) Back to the mall!

Act II

You know, I think this semester is going to be a really good one. My morning class still seemed a bit annoyed this week (hey, they're college students and therefore much cooler than I) but I've managed to slowly lure them into being intereted in the matreial and the class.

(heh heh)

I do mourn the lost PhD. I'm highly annoyed by what happened. At the same time, I do notice how many people spent the extra $20, 000 plus blood, sweat and soul selling only to be 60 and still working one year gigs. Right now (and I don't know for how long) I get to teach, teach and teach (fun) and skip the meetings, conferences and politics. If my nose is clean and my powder dry, I'm OK for the time being.

In fact, I'm better than okay. My students are amazed by me (good) and I am happy. For right now, that's plenty.

last minute chaos

When more than one person is teaching a section of a survey class, it's a good idea to touch base ahead of time. I got in touch with my partner-in-crime this summer and we agreed on a textbook and careful use of occasional primary documents. I planned out the class and various assignments based upon this conversation.

Throught sheer potluck, I just learned that my PIC is also using another textbook, one I've never seen before and about which I know nothing. I have very little time in which to retool my syllabus, not to mention at least scan the book.

Still in all, this is far more fun than struggling with yet another diss rewrite!!

juxtaposition

Many, many years ago, I somehow fell into a discussion group. The leader drew questions from The Book of Questions and then people would signify agreement or disagreement with a position. To the question, "Would you watch an execution if broadcast on TV" all but one of us said an emphatic NO. One very small but strong voice replied, "Yes, I would. I am pro-death penalty, and if I am prepared to vote that way, write to my representatives about it and support it in a group such as this, I should be prepared to witness the outcome."

I mention this because I whiled about the hours of class preparation yesterday by listening to NPR. A story discussed a new movement toward asking anethesiologists to perform lethal injections to prevent additional pain and suffering. When the authorities asked for volunteers, no one in that state proved willing to, as they saw it, violate their professional oath or office to preserve life by participation. (One doctor in another state did volunteer, but has yet to be accepted.)

Listening to this while fumbling through my notes, I saw the words "public spectacle" and became chilled to the bone. Today "spectacle" includes AP wire photos of Boy George sweeping streets on his first day of community service for lying to police. It's not all that long ago that hanging, quartering, disemboweling, castration and floggings, far from limited to twelve carefully chosen witnessed, served as entertainment for the masses.

I truly believe, from all that I have read, that post-modern snuff films are every bit as barbaric as the executions of old. I do not advocate their public consumption. At the same time, what if randomly selected groups of 2006 Americans were required to watch executions as civic duty?

ah, the possibilities

New Mexican suggests another possible set of uses for my history degree.

Fess Parker's birthday was yesterday - Davy Crockett's birthday is today. Coincedence?

what's in a name?

It occured to me that many cities have streets or roads or blvds name after Martin Luther King, Jr. Now ths is all well and good - he's an important, significant and great man of American History. I'm all in favor of naming streets for him. At the same time, I can't think of a single street I've ever seen named for, say, Malcolm X or Harriet Tubman. I assume that they exist, but it's far less common.

Now I grant you that Malcolm X is, for some people, far more controversial than King, so perhaps that explains the geographical difference. What about someone like Jackie Robinson? Are there streets named for him?

Clearly it is my summer vacation. It's about to end - classes to prepare, textbooks to scan, syllabuses to plan. I am more grateful than I can say that I still have a job and can make such plans, even as I curse the mechanics necessary to enable me to go into the classroom.

weather

Thunderstorms at night are exciting and occasionally even romantic. Thunderstorms at 10:30 AM on a Thursday are a nuiscance and not much more.

pain and suffering

I realize that my students spent plenty of time and energy studying for their final exam. They are entitled to a final grade based upon that exam. I still hate reading and grading the blasted things. This is the moment when I must face the fact that, despite all of my enthusiasm, sleepless nights and personal passion, quite a few of them see me as just another Dibert cartoon. It's not personal - they might even have enjoyed my class - but they didn't study.

Three more exams to read and then I will be done and I will have a very large glass of red wine to aid in my recovery. Excuse me.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: too many

dog days of summer enlivened

Another good, solid, fun teaching day - I got to talk quite a bit about sex and reproduction. This is always fun. I've been at this game long enough that I can throw out the name of various anatomical features and sexual activities without batting an eyelash. The same is not true of my students, so out of the corners of my eyes I can watch them slowly cross their legs, shift slightly away from the person next to them and raise eyebrows.

I promise, the bits about sex were entirely appropriate and fully relevant to the course materials. All students are 18 or older. (grins)

Sam is thoroughly tired of heat indexes of 105+. He desperately needs a walk, but neither of us has the fortitude to do it properly. We've grown soft in the last few years, he and I, and can no longer brave the elements. I do worry about taxing his heart and nervous system. He's almost ten, pretty old for a dog. With all of the news accounts of death due to heat indexes in the news... all right, I worry too much, but Sam is a pretty special fellow.

time well spent

Did anyone else watch the first episode of Alton Brown's new show on Food Network on Saturday night?

It was a two hour bonus - first an hour of behind-the-scenes insights: how do they get all of those wacky camera angles? Who are the visiting faces - how many are crew, how many are friends, how many are actors? (His chiropractor appears on a regular basis, did ya know that??!) As a frustrated actor who did plenty of tech work, I like his line that "if you work on Good Eats, you appear on Good Eats."

Then the new show, Feasting on Asphalt - Alton and three other motocyclists, plus men in a support truck, drive about, sampling "authentic" cuisine. (Authentic cuisine sounds to me like the original Iron Chef, but no matter.) The definition eliminates any and all chain restaurants and I suspect that before the month is out he'll have eaten a vast amount of grease. Nonetheless, all of last week's food looked great - except for the pig's foot. From careful examination of the promos, next week's authentic cuisine all looks good too, except for the brain sandwich.

Hey Jason 266! Can you get Food network to play in the neonatal ward? Perhaps a little Alton Brown will inspire Jacob's efforts?

I've been working on the last class of the summer. I've thought of about eight hours of material, plus numerous musical, film and artistic images I'd like to show. The question is, which ones? Jacob seems to eat better when I've had a good teaching day, so in the traditional quirkiness that fuels my ambitions, I feel like I really need to make this last class as fantastic as possible.

more on teaching

A good teaching day - I was extremely nervous about how well I'd be able to pull off today's unit. Then, mid-stream, I realized that it truly was all coming together, that today's hook was working even better than I'd dared to hope (all ideas sound good at midnight) and through some miracle I managed to program exactly as much material as needed for the full class time.

Thanks be to Clio, the summer's race is almost done and fall semester should be calmer.

I'm more and more inclined toward giving up the frantic dash after the PhD. I feel better and happier than I have in years and, in an odd way, knowing that I don't have to be the perfect professional is a great release. Of course I say this without having yet handed out teacher evaluations...

musings

The challenge to teaching in the summer is that the heroic instructor (moi) must cram four months of material into four weeks. This means that not only am I designing a class utterly from scratch (I've never taught this course before or even done it as a TA or even took it as an undergrad) but I have to come up with a way to make hours and hours of endless me entertaining as well as informative.

My students are a hard bunch to read - maybe it's a survival tactic. I have a couple who occasionally reveal their amusement or horror through a flicker of the eyebrow, and I've come to rely upon them more heavily than I think they know. Oh, they know the answers if I call on them and all of that and when I move onto an unusual or outrageous topic I can tell that I have their full and utter attention, but here's only so much you can say about President X that will elicit enthusiasm.

This has forced me to make all sorts of teaching choices I would usually avoid - I've showed a lot of film and documentary clips, played and analyzed music and disected pictures. I'm painfully (self) aware that this summer hasn't been my most effective teaching experience, but I think (hope) that having, through desperation, tried some new techniques and made them work, that I'll be that much better in the fall.

Perk #2 to not being a PhD - if I fell flat on my facethim summer, it wouldn't prevent me from being able to get a job somewhere else

Distractions

Dave Barry (the humorist) has a Bacon number of two.

Someone with whom I was once in a play is now in the Bacon database, so I suppose that means that in theory I have one, too.

perks

Perk #1 - no PhD means I don't have to go through the dehumanizing crunch of getting tenure. Graduate school is bad enough - don't even get me started on what profs have to do to get tenure. These are the folks who passsed the PhD hurdle, mind you.

More perks later. Meanwhile, a bit of great timing: I'm going out to dinner tonight. I met Martin when I was his TA. He being no fool, Martin would drop by office hours to discuss class, whch eventually devolved into discussing other safe topics (books, TV, that sort of thing.) A year later, he enrolled im a class but couldn't decide, based upon the description, if he wanted to take it. He showed up for the first class, saw me sitting in the TA row, and stayed.

You get the idea. Very flattering, to be sure, but also very reassuring - if my teaching inspired this kind of loyalty I must be doing something right.

At graduation, Martin e-mailed me to say that he'd always intended to take his favorite prof out for drinks and that was me. "Surely you'd rather have a PhD!" No, he wanted me. Now I'm sure that there was a certain glee in getting drunk someone who had marked up your papers, but it was a great evening. We've repeated it since and I hear from him occasionally, which gladdens my heart. He's back in Hoosier-land and we're going out tonight. Yes, we have a designated driver.

Oh, and his girlfriend is coming along, so don't get any purient ideas. (grin)

Gang of Four, eat your hearts out - how many of your old students (undergraduates, mind) make a point of staying in touch? I rest my case.

nerds

Yeah, probably about right...

progress, but sideways

Met with #2 (upon whom may light shine) and have been pondering what was said and (more importantly) left unsaid.

#2 thinks I am smart, savvy, talented, etc. etc. etc. #2 is uncertain that I can insert enough academic gobbeldygook (my term) into a revised diss and has other reservations. #2 wants to see me with a PhD but is dubious about actuality. I've taught long enough to understand the translation.

Obviously this is a blow. I have one last shot, but it's clear that while #2 likes me and thinks highly of me, departmental and field politics are of more importance than an individual grad student. My failed diss will hurt #2 but at the end of the day closing ranks to protect #1, #3 and #4 (despite their failings, which were recognized) is more important than me graduating.

Really, I am OK.

To **** with politics and "that would make things complicated."

Obviosuly I'm angry and annoyed and all of that -- but there are perks. I'll say more later. Just keeping all of you posted, as per the terms of this blog.

maliciousness and marsupials

Stories like this are why I love my BBC Headlines feature on Firefox. Killer Kangaroos might not attract the same fear as Al Q bombings, but there's nothing wrong with a brief distraction or six.

On a more somber level, I note that we've now had three attacks on the 11th of the month. On the one hand, I understand their enthusiasm for symbolism and pattern. On the other hand, I think I'd be even more frightened without such a predictable pattern.

There's a temptation to say, "Well, we're in Indiana, with no mass transit or all that many tall buildings, so we're safe." Then I think of Timothy McVeigh and Oklahoma City, chosen on purpose.

I grew up in a secondary strike zone. As a kindergartener I knew that Russia (whoever that was) might someday launch a bomb at us (a what?) and I knew where to go if that happened. I truly hoped that more than one generation would grow up without that knowlege. My students are unaware, but I do not think that their children will be able to make the same claim.

The train attack in India is horrible - yet even more horrible is that Al Q no longer has to attack on this CONTINENT to frighten us. They've made their point and we're all on guard.

Except when we aren't - because sometimes, we don't.

Marsupial off-spring spend a lot of post-birth time in the pouch. Would that we all had that comfort, maruding mothers or otherwise.

now I have seen everything

When I left for church yesterday morning, there was just enough fog on the ground to be beautiful without being a danger. Part of the drive takes me down a five-six lane bit of road. While glancing at the gas price signs, I noticed that the parking lot for this particular gas station was full of immature Canadian Geese.

The geese, as is their wont, decided to cross the street on foot. There so many of them that even walking three or four abreast, tightly together, the flock strung out all the way across all six lanes of the road. It was a brief nuiscance, but oddly beautiful in the half-grey light... also rather amusing, as I think about it.

for this I am paid

Dear Prof Lemming

That should be a lower-case l, but no matter.

I'm sorry that I've not yet come to class no problem, it's only been a matter of weeks that class has met and I've never heard of or from you... but I've been busy, etc. etc.

I have every sympathy with students who have lives outside of class. There's a reason why I don't attach a grade to attendence.

At the same time, the mid-term is next week and you still haven't come to class? Not even long enough to get the syllabus and then walk out?

(coughs)

tales from the front lines

Student: Prof lemming, that was a pretty biased left-wing documentary. Why can't you show something unbiased, like from Fox News?
Me: Trust me, when Fox makes a documentary on (relatively obscure topic) I'll show it.


Student: Gee, Mizz lemming, I never bought any of those stories about minorities being beaten up and threatened after 9/11. It must have been all New York Times propaganda.
Me: Um, well, yes, it happened. Even here in Indiana...
Another Student (upon whom may Clio smile): Oh yeah, I knw it did. It even made Fox News. (provides examples)

I've been accused, on more than one occasion, of being "out of touch" because I teach at the university level rather than in junior or senior high school. It's day slike today that make me feel I am truly accomplishing something good and significant, one student at a time. By the end of class I had taught my students useful information about their history, encouraged a thoughtful discussion or six and only ran through three dry-erase markers in the process.

I like days like this.

today's saint

Today is the Feast Day of St. Athanasius the Athonite. He is known for founding the famous monastary on the top of Mt. Athos. He doesn't appear to be the patron of much of anything.

You just don't meet very many people named Athanasius. Were I a Roman Catholic, I'd be tempted to pick it as a confirmation name.

Jason266 and his wife welcomed a baby boy this morning - as of his posting, they still didn't have a name. Just my little suggestion... (grins)

anvils, hang-gliders and the like

I've officially asked #2 (upon whom may light shine) for a meeting to "discuss possibilities."

There are no words sufficient to describe my terror. Suffice it that, to cobble a lin from Sylvia Plath, I have been to the bottom, seen its roots, and I am not afraid.

Well, not too much, anyway...

American spoken here

I'm not sure how I feel about the Philly cheese steak shop's Please order in English sign. I'm not at all surprised that the person whom the reporter chose to quote claimed that in the United States we speak "American."

Yes, yes, English as spoken in the United States has its linguistic variations that are its own. Someone from, say, Manchester, could handle walking into a fast food restaurant and ordering a value meal, but might have just as many problems ordering a Philly Sub "wit" as would I.

a nice thought

"Historians like the quiet life. For the most part, they get it."
-Simon Schama