Frater, ave atque vale

"She ordered us first to avoid the voice of the marvelous
Sirens, and also their meadow full of flowers.
Me alone she ordered to hear their voice; but bind me
In hard bonds so that I may stay firm in my place
Erect at the mast. And let the rope-ends be fastened from it.
And if I implore you and call you to untie me
Then constrain me yourselves in further fastenings."
Odyssey XII, 158-164

Several weeks ago, while at a conference in Miami, a friend of mine from UNC asked how things were here in West Tennessee. I said, truthfully, that we are very happy here. He then asked a question that pierced like cold iron: "do you have any friends, folks you hang out with?"

err. . . .

I'll admit that the answer is 'no.' W, being the way she is, has made friends left and right, and while deep trust takes a long time to fully develop, she's well on her way with several women. I have friendly relations with my co-workers, and with some of the folks at church, particularly my fellow sunday school teacher, and the retired history professor I sit beside during choir rehearsal every Wednesday night.

It is true that being alone doesn't really bother me from a circumstantial point of view--I like the quiet, the space for my mind to turn ideas under the light. But then something funny happens, some new movie comes out, I find a cool website, the Tar Heels win or lose a game, and aside from W (whose infinite capacity for empathy and humor continues to amaze), I have nowhere to take the conversation.

But this isn't about complaint, but about sirens.

How so? Well, that emotional feeding is necessary, regardless of my resistance to its demands--and here's the thing, I find myself in the unenviable position of looking for friendship in the place where I spend most of my time--at work. With a group of people I shouldn't look to--the students. Though I'm glad to be a popular professor here (there's evidently a Facebook group for 'Hill Groupies'--no, I've not looked), and though I'm glad to be student-friendly and accessible and even at times personally supportive of my students, I have found a disconcerting tendency in myself to look for more affirmation in those relationships. It's there, but it's not and can't be true friendship.

Of course, I'd never let a personal concern like that put me in an ethically challenged position. Sure, I wouldn't. But if I fall into the trap of believing my own guarantee, I'm already tainted. People are always doing things that "they'd never do."

I see these students in the intense relationships that come along with college experience, and I'll admit that I'm envious. I'd like to sit down and smoke a bowl, have a drink, ruminate and laugh. Hopefully one day--and until then, I'll remember the blessings of Chapel Hill.

Bah! enough navel gazing! Nashe and Martin and Herbert are all waiting for your attention. You should have gotten a degree in English Reformation church history along with all those philosophy and latin courses you should have taken back in college.