sawdust

Funniest moment from this past week: I walk into the front room of the house, and looking out the big windows facing due north, I see this really big cat on the front sidewalk. I'm familiar with most of our feline prowlers--there's a tuxedo cat, a ginger cat, and a white longhair--but this one was a grey tabby with white socks and a white patch on his chest. I say, "hey! look! There's a cat out front! He looks like he could be Simon!" *pause* "Oh, wait . . . that IS Simon." It's a bit odd to look at your own cat as if he were a stranger. As my wife often says, "stupid cat."

**
This is where we are: we get two inches of snow & ice, and the University can't make up its mind about when or how to call classes. Our neighbor, bless her soul, suggests that we get gas logs for emergency heat. We have no chimney, nor a place to put a fireplace. Her response: "just stick it in a corner!" Ah, of course. Our other neighbors have orange "T" reflectors at the end of their driveway.

**
The snow/ice and its attendant scheduling snafu helped make the week especially strange. You probably have felt like this too: you keep waiting for things to "settle down," for the chance to catch your breath and feel like you can prepare for what comes next rather than react to it. I know things will change one way or another, but it has been hard to stay afloat this week, at least work-wise.

**
It doesn't help that I'm extremely distracted, scatterbrained, unfocused, scattered, smothered, and covered. I think it's a result of pharmaceuticals. Or hash browns.

**
This is an extremely sad weekend in some ways. Superbowl Sunday represents the true, final end of football season, which means no more good tv sports until August. I know, I know, MARCH MADNESS. Sorry: never been a fan of college basketball on TV. In many circles, to say this is heresy, as is not participating in a pool. Don't care--none of that for me.

**
Readings this week have included Chaucer, Donne, and More. The Donne, while in some ways most intellectually stimulating, proved the hardest to teach. I think the students felt he was pretty hard to read, too. Chaucer always gives me fits, because I never feel like I really "get" it entirely. I keep to a pretty well-worn path which, although fun, isn't particularly interesting or innovative. More is in some ways the easiest to teach, because Utopia so clearly sets up a number of issues and gains interest because of the memorable details.

**
I'd love to have 3-4 hours to sit down and read.

**
So much to think about, so much to think about.

The History of Science

All fables of adventure stress
The need for courtesy and kindness:
Without the Helpers none can win
The flaxen-haired Princess.

They look the ones in need of aid,
Yet, thanks to them, the gentle-hearted
Third Brother beds the woken Queen,
While seniors who made

Cantankerous replies to crones
And dogs who begged to share their rations,
Must expiate their pride as daws
Or wind-swept bachelor stones.

Few of a sequel, though, have heard:
Uneasy pedagogues have censored
All written reference to a brother
Younger than the Third.

Soft-spoken as New Moon this Fourth,
A Sun of gifts to all he met with,
But when advised "Go south a while!",
Smiled "Thank You!" and turned North,

Trusting some map in his own head,
So never reached the goal intended
(His map, of course, was out) but blundered
On a wonderful instead,

A tower not circular but square,
A treasure not of gold but silver:
He kissed a shorter Sleeper's hand
And stroked her raven hair.

Dare sound Authority confess
That one can err his way to riches,
Win glory by mistake, his dear
Through sheer wrong-headedness?

(Auden, 1955)
(picture from www.samanthacontis.com)

Kill me now, pls.

Second job candidate today. weather absolutely awful. Presentation passable.

Dinner: purgatory. I don't know what sins I committed to suffer this, but:

I had to sit next to the biggest blowhard in our department as he talked the entire time--mostly about himself.

I decided to skip the reception.

And I got home to learn that I left my computer in my office.



(picture from thai.wunderground.com)

Number Two

Of all days, while we're on the brink of an ice storm here, our second candidate comes to visit.  Here are a few things I expect him to notice.  These are not veiled complaints on my part, just observations:

1.  Our department is housed on the ugliest floor of the ugliest building on campus.

2.  The whole office suite system we got going on:  strange.

3.  The university center is two different buildings--it's just that you can walk between them without going outside.  Even the flooring is different.

4.  There is nothing endearing about West Tennessee in the depth of winter.  

5.  There is no actual restroom on the floor where we spend most of our time.

6.  The library looks nice, but that's a pretty small collection. 

7.  This is a pretty genial bunch, really.

8.  That Shakespeare guy we have sure doesn't say much, does he?

(picture from cdryan.com)

Parings

**
We went to the basketball game here at our Local Institution last night. It's hard to imagine that it's the same kind of event we used to attend at the Dean Dome. I'm not saying this one is inferior--it's just so different. Do love live basketball, though (can't stand watching it on tv).

**
At work, lots of positive talk about the candidate from last week. The key question: "but was she interested in us??"

**
I taught 'improv' sunday school this morning. Our usual teacher came down ill suddenly, and wouldn't you know it: a full classroom, with visitors. So I had to wing it (I'm the relief pitcher). I perhaps made a little bit of something out of nothing.

**
I suffer from what some of my readers probably suffer: the tendency to picture the weekend as either filled with really productive work, or leisurely julep-sipping. In reality: I wake up late and lazy, the biscuits take a good while to make, then eat, then clean up, and then there's writing in the journal if I can manage it, and then: whatever chore is so pressing that it can no longer reasonably be ignored. This time it was the mountain of recycling in the garage that needed to be shuttled to the facility on campus. Oh, and The Little Boy wants to play Lego Star Wars. Maybe it's the nature of life with little children, hmmm? I oughta get with the program!

**
As I described last week, I think I've turned a corner, and I'm thankful for two light-filled weeks.

**

Hard aport

What we're trying to do is change course. We're trying to do everything different in a world where circumstances still fall apart, where opportunities fade, where hopes are blasted. We're trying to learn control not of circumstance but of our own mind. We're trying to keep the head up, the eye bright. We're also trying to live out the idea that some things are not important--that they cannot, should not, be worried about, even if the indeterminacy is frightening. We're trying to find love and laughter where it is, rather than trying to wrest it from life as a kind of payment. We're trying to find the positive side of the phrase "good enough," which is another way of saying we're learning to find contentment.

Nothing is perfect. Nothing has changed. And yet, everything has changed, in me, at least for now. I'm not a Pollyanna--there's no getting rid of this--but I know enough to mindfully enjoy what I'm experiencing here & now.

Thanks to my loved ones near & far for holding on for me. I hope not to have to call on your assistance again. Thanks to those who hosted me away from home, giving me space to be in my moment. Thanks to those who came to talk to me, regularly, faithfully, when I felt alone even in front of scores of students. Thanks to those who traded Facebook, Twitter, email, and chat messages with me, who sent me songs & lyrics & poems & books & jokes, who commented on my blog & let me know someone was reading. Thanks to my family especially, who had to endure the worst, who were most terrified--but who held me up and lent me just enough strength to avoid the dark archway.

So much of life is a mystery--why we do the things we do, why calamity and misfortune strikes when & how it does. I'm not sure about Providence. But I do know that you, the ones I hold closest to my heart, saved my life.

(Hamlet & I were speaking the same language)

From here on out, I'm not going to spend as much time, if any, on my Condition. We all know it's there, at least potentially. Instead, I'm going to spend time on what the now brings, what is coming up, and (if I can get my act together) happy memories from Manila, and happy pictures from the present. We do have a Little Boy and a Little Red, after all. So, we hereby close the book on 2008, The Year I Almost Died, and turn instead to 2009, The Year of Learning to Live.

Meetings! We love meetings!

Department meeting this afternoon.

Went on and on and on and on and on.

to be fair, there was no pointing with a stick.

Nor were there donuts, darn the luck.

But we did have a handy, um, handout!

Taxidea taxus

True story:

In a feedback/summary sheet from yesterday's British literature class, I have the following question:

What is a badger?

Um, where should I begin?

Sitting in a presentation this afternoon, one of my colleagues turns to me and says:

Have you lost some weight?

I've lost a good deal of weight.

Oh, really? You start running or something?

[actually, the weight loss is part of the side effects from my depression and the cocktail of drugs that I'm on to keep it under control. My stomach is sour most of the time, not to mention other drug related side effects. ]

No, not really.

What, have you been sick?

er. . .

Long story?

[you might say that]

long story.

**
I felt sorry for the candidate tonight. During the small reception after dinner, she got cornered by the biggest bloviator in our department. He talked and talked and talked, eventually making his way to "the good old days" in our department (back in the 60's and 70's, natch). Somebody should have tackled him, or at least administered chloroform.

Job job job job

Went out to eat tonight with a candidate for a tenure-track opening in our department. There were five of us at dinner, and the conversation was plentiful. The food was fine. She'll be busy tomorrow with meeting after meeting, some presentations, then socializing tomorrow night.

Reminds me of January 30 & 31, 2005. Drizzly, cold, grey weekend. I drove up from Nashville in my father-in-law's truck, thinking to myself, "my lord, there's nothing out here. I mean nothing." I came into town, ran a stop sign, then drove straight to JM's house (he has since moved on, to Gonzaga). He took me around town, we went to eat at La Cabana (that would be the popular 'mexican' restaurant in town), he ordered "El Combo," which was an enormous amount of food. We all had a good laugh over it. I was to stay at the "McComb Apartment," which is a pretty nice room in the attic of one of the campus classroom buildings. I went up there early, and stayed up really late watching cable tv. I remember being glad for the time to myself.

The next day: meetings. Being confused about the way things are arranged in the english department here. Confusion about photocopies. My teaching demonstration, which I remember because I felt really self-conscious in my striped tie & white shirt. I also remember making a few jokes and being thrilled that they seemed to work. Ironically, I taught Chaucer, the author who gives me the most trouble in the entire curriculum. I would end up teaching some of those same students the very next semester.

My job talk was a bomb. They didn't say so, but I was thoroughly dissatisfied with my approach and my performance. Still, I salvaged some by my manner at the podium, the confidence and humor with which I presented myself & my material. It's funny to think about how people who are now so familiar to me seemed so different back then.

Dinner at Michael's, our (at that point) local steakhouse/sit down--only three or four of us, if I remember correctly. Then a "reception" at the house of one of my current colleagues. It was fun, if a little exhausting for introverted ol' me. I went home thinking that perhaps I'd done a good enough job. I needed to have; this was my only option for a full-time job.

A week later, I got the phone call.

clippings

Week One down. An exhausting, encouraging week, not so much for what happened in the classroom, though that was fine; it was most encouraging because of what happened within me.

**
I had forgotten, however, just how chaotic the first week can be. Some of that is my doing : I fell behind in my prep work, and never really did catch up. Next week: the meetings start with a vengeance. Ahhhh, part two of the job. If I can get part three going (think Martin Marprelate), I'll be in great shape.

**
I suspect, given this past week and the emails that went back and forth, that this will be called The Semester of the Budget--or, The Semester of the Disappearing Budget. We're just hoping that it doesn't become the Semester of the Disappearing Faculty!

**
My household acquired a Wii this week. What's amazing is just how much money one can drop even after one's dropped the significant amount for the console itself. We used gift money for it. The only reason I bring that up is that our normal practice has been to use gift money for things like radial tires, new plumbing fixtures, or a replacement window or three. So! It was a big moment. And we are having fun with the games as well. I'm passable at tennis & bowling, and have recently figured out how to actually hit the ball in baseball. Boxing: not so much.

**
Little Red has really gotten the knack of walking. Lots of falling down, lots of frustration, but he can go just about anywhere now. He definitely prefers it to crawling. Doesn't really help him get any closer to the kitties, but that's another story. Maybe I should post video if we can get some.

**
Phrase of the week: "What a crazy random happenstance!"

**
Still working hard at maintaining the equilibrium. It wavered a good deal today, but perhaps it'll hold.

**
I do not fully understand, but I'm beginning to think that I don't need to.

It's Friday.

so time for a chuckle:


more animals

Ten Things.

10 True Things

1. I'm a Trekkie. All versions except Voyager. DS9 especially.

2. I tend to leave my clothes in piles on the floor, and my shoes scattered about the house. And my books & papers stacked about.

3. It is incredible, the lengths I will go to in order to avoid making a phone call. To anyone, just about.

4. I've got a slight obsession with pens, especially fountain pens. But in a cup on my desk I must have five or six each of different kinds of blue & black & green pens. I own 12 fountain pens. Seriously, who needs that many obsolete pens, hmmm? But I'm looking for more, yes I am.

5. I've been to: Japan, The Philippines (duh), Indonesia, The Netherlands, Belgium, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, England. Other than the Philippines, I've spent the longest amount of time in Japan and Germany.

6. Studied Latin in graduate school, in which classes I discovered what it feels like to be the class dunce. Seriously, I sucked so hard at Latin, it's amazing my regal, bald, grad student instructor didn't just toss me out a window.

7. What I would wear every day if I could: Levi's 501 blue jeans, solid color t-shirt from Gap (or a similar store), Chucks. The button-fly jeans are nonnegotiable. I last wore zip-fly jeans when I was a sophomore in HS.

8. When I enter a bookstore, the first place I head? The science fiction section.

9. I do not expect to ever be off the drug regimen that I'm using right now. I mean ever.

10. I was far closer to suicide last October and November than I ever let on.

Rigorous, yup

Today in my composition class on Utopian thought, the following things were discussed:

• my dark sweaters
• the grey in my hair
• my beard (stop laughing)
  
• Star Trek
• Star Wars
• Harry Potter
• Wall-E
• Hamlet
• the temperature of the classroom (COLD)

For the next turn in the road

The first days of class have been so uncommonly good, I don't know whether to check myself for fever, or to pinch myself for dreaming. Monday morning was not particularly promising, but at around 8:00 it was as if someone threw a switch, and I just stopped worrying. I stopped feeling that tight band around my chest. I walked into my first class feeling like I was . . . light. It has been a long time since I could say that. Trying hard not to fall into discounting it as an aberration or relying that things are all going to be okay from now onward.

Who knows what will come next week, or next month? I might run into something that shatters my equilibrium. I might find an unexpected reward in persevering. I might just keep going. But here's something new: I'm not worried about it. Not for now.

It's hard to say how much this feels like freedom--

Whaaa?

I know I've lost some weight, but Anorexia??

Not bloody likely.

donne, and donne.

In honor of the first day of class for the term:

Some man unworthy to be possessor
Of old or new love, himself being false or weak,
Thought his pain and shame would be lesser,
If on womankind he might his anger wreak ;
And thence a law did grow,
One might but one man know ;
But are other creatures so?

Are sun, moon, or stars by law forbidden
To smile where they list, or lend away their light?
Are birds divorced or are they chidden
If they leave their mate, or lie abroad a night?
Beasts do no jointures lose
Though they new lovers choose ;
But we are made worse than those.

Who e'er rigg'd fair ships to lie in harbours,
And not to seek lands, or not to deal with all?
Or built fair houses, set trees, and arbours,
Only to lock up, or else to let them fall?
Good is not good, unless
A thousand it possess,
But doth waste with greediness.

("Confined Love." John Donne, 1633)

Bits

**
This was a week of slow acclimation to the office again. The first couple of days were surprisingly hard, but it got easier. I was able to get most of my class-related work done, and I caught up on some other paperwork. I had big plans for cleaning up my office, but that didn't happen. I did, however, visit the library and surprise myself at just how much fun I was having looking up books. Needless to say, I didn't get a chance to do much of that last term. I've missed it.

**
The office is a bit tense these days--every week the budget picture gets revised, and every week the revision looks worse and worse. Departments are merging and changing colleges, personnel are being transferred to other positions, restrictions being imposed on power use, travel, supplies, etc. The thing is, everyone knows it's not enough.

**
On the bright side: I'll walk into my first class at 9:00 on Monday morning, do the physical 'tells' that I always do, and launch into what I do best. I'm really excited about all my classes this term, whether because of the subject matter, or because of certain groups of students. I'll bet it's strange to hear me utter the word "excited" in reference to myself, but it's true.

**
Short of paying $80, it is almost impossible to find a good fitted shirt. Especially if you don't want plain white, blue, or black. I'd love to be able to get my shirts from Brooks Brothers. Sadly, I didn't get that 1% raise this year . . . so my shirt budget took a big hit! Why a fitted shirt, you ask? Simple: I'm tired of looking like (and feeling like) I'm wearing a tent.

**
I've made a momentous decision: for the first time in about a decade, I'm going to let my hair grow out. Just to see what happens.

**
From the department of tenacious habits: I have noticed that every time I walk by someone, I duck my head. Every single time. Why might that be, I wonder?

**
I remember well, and I don't remember well. A paradox that seems important right now.

(picture from Mike Mills)

The Ten Month Old.

taxi, taxi!

I was speaking with a friend earlier who happened to be taking a taxi to the airport. No big deal there--happens all the time, makes sense in big cities. As so much often does these days, however, the conversation reminded me of growing up in Manila. "taxi," I thought. "hmmm. We used to take taxis a lot, both in Quezon City and in Makati." And I remembered them: usually a Toyota Corolla, Isuzu Gemini, or a Mitsubishi Lancer. Usually quite old, without "aircon," as the taxis in the picture I found (after an approx. 3-min. GIS) advertise. The back seat of our taxi was usually completely caved in; the suspension was nonexistent, the tires bald, the alignment off, the instruments inoperative. But there was a shrine to the Blessed Virgin, multiple varieties of car air freshener (there was one product that was evidently quite popular; it was called "Going Steady," and it looked like an itty bitty can of Ajax powder), and the "driver's prayer" hanging from the rear-view mirror (if there was one).

Mom would hop in and, though the driver always wanted to know our final destination, she would just say "deretso," which means, "go ahead--straight!" She spoke tagalog with such fluency and authority, they were usually pretty taken aback. I reflect that she went grocery shopping with two kids in tow, using a taxi to get back & forth, schlepping all those Makati Supermarket bags into the trunk . . . wow. It wasn't a big deal to us at the time, and I guess it's not really a big deal at all. It's just not the way things get done in West Tennessee. Or Chapel Hill. Or Birmingham.

Some friends and I got totally bilked one time by a clever taxi driver. We were needing to get to the LRT station a few miles away from where we lived. We hailed a really nice looking taxi, and as we got in, the driver offered us some of the green mango (om nom nom) he was eating. Deftly done, because that distracted us from the fact that he hadn't reset the meter. Well, we payed about four times what it should have cost--we were clearly 'kano teenagers, what the hell were we going to do about it? I still chuckle when I think about what rubes we probably looked like. Me in my long hair and all.

No lessons. It's just fun to remember.

"Act as if you were."

they say it's in my head now
that something's got me down
it must be lack of sleep I guess
but I believe it's something else
--The Myriad, "Braver than the Rest"

There's the big directive from yesterday. Act as if I were. Changed action leads to changed thinking, and changed thinking in the long run will result in a fuller, more satisfactory--even happier?--life. Walk tall. Quit shrinking away. Speak up.

I've never believed it, no matter who told me. The accolades in school: smoke. Reassurances from parents and authority figures: insubstantial. Advanced degrees: a drop in a mile-wide bucket. Spouse, children, loyal friends: poof. Sermons and lessons: hahahahaha!

Meanwhile, every setback confirms the thesis. And setbacks are never in short supply, really.

This may have been the single most important facet of my personality for almost all of my 35 years.

So I must now learn to act as if I were. Exchange armor for a benign disguise, and then, perhaps one day: I'll know I am.

Best sentence I've read today (so far).

Really, if castration didn't give him melancholia, then the man must have been imperturbable.

I shall

pass that quiz. And get extra credit points as well.

Oh read over D. John Bridges

It's the major gift from this Christmas: a newly annotated & modernized edition of the Martin Marprelate Tracts! I realize that most of my readers will be like, "whaaaa?" --but I'm thrilled to get ahold of this volume. I'm probably one of like 50 people who bought their own personal copy.

Now, the trick is to justify the considerable expense by producing some actual scholarship. What that will take, I'm not yet sure--last year was so extraordinarily poor in that respect, I am tempted to burn all of the work I did and just start over from the beginning.

Huh. May not be a bad course of action in general. Aaaaanyway, I certainly need to be more focused this term than last. First item: read said book cover to cover.

Scraps

Who will go drive with Fergus now,
And pierce the deep wood's woven shade,
And dance upon the level shore ?
Young man, lift up your russet brow,
And lift your tender eyelids, maid,
And brood on hopes and fear no more.

And no more turn aside and brood
Upon love's bitter mystery;
For Fergus rules the brazen cars,
And rules the shadows of the wood,
And the white breast of the dim sea,
And all dishevelled wandering stars.

(Yeats, "Who Goes with Fergus?")

**

Time for the Christmas decorations to come down. That's the thing about putting them up; you know you're going to have to return them to the boxes and then to the attic.

**

This has been a fine week; time with the brothers is always really valuable. I am so very proud of what each one does academically/professionally. Not to mention the jokes & the carrying on. There's not always enough of that in my house. It was also nice to be able to explain some things to my parents, and to hear their stories about their two-week trip.

**

That said, we got home a week ago, but it seems like we've been here a month. I'm not sure what that means.

**

Work re-starts tomorrow, assuming I'm healthy enough to go. It's going to be a very busy week, so I need to be healthy enough to go.

**

Inasmuch as Monday is a new beginning (like Thursday was a new beginning), the thing I most need to confront is how mistaken I have been about so many things--and how those mistakes have warped so much about who I am and how I act and what I think I know. To confront without hating myself for a fool: there's the hardest task of all. That way lies freedom, and freedom is what I most want.

**

My gatorade needs ice. I'm trying to remember to sip rather than gulp, bucause I'm really thirsty. Due to the 'exertions' of last night, my whole body feels like somebody beat on it with a mallet, but I'm terrified of putting any drugs in my stomach!

**

I had a dream last night that I returned to Mariveles, Bataan, at the house of the first girl I ever fell in love with (as a 7th grader). I'm surprised at the way the details of the house still stand out after all this time. Memory, sight, desire: you just never know what you're going to get.

A Post-Holiday Note

more music charts

Which way is up?

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
(Elizabeth Bishop, "One Art")

It's the most difficult question: how to see rightly. I teach a play involving a couple of old men who cannot see what is evident; it costs one his eyes, the other his sanity. Redcrosse Knight fails most spectacularly when he allows Duessa's false beauty to blind him to her true nature. Paradise Lost is shot through with it as well: those who see wrongly are the ones who fall.


Today we call it "perspective," meaning the way we place items in space or ideas in the mental landscape. We often use the term to mean distance, meaning that we understand things better when we are more removed from them by space or time . . . usually the latter. It's as if from the close range the details are far too overwhelming to see as parts of a whole. And of course, we hold out promises to those we care about that time will make things clear, that everything will be alright in time.


Such talk leaves me cold. Always has. It may be true that we need perspective, but we most need to see when we are in the moment, when the true sight can make the most difference. Ten years down the road is, in short, too late. Here we are in a garden of forking paths, and we need to see the way through. But paths lead in false directions, appearances deceive, and the map is incomplete.

If I have learned anything since October, it is that the maps I used to use show a landscape I've long left behind. The perspective I once had is either too near or too far away. What's next: finding a way to see differently.

Family Tree

My entire family is in town, which means:

• Rock Band
• football
• loud conversation
• movies
• board games
• hyper Little Boy
  

Today, we visited Patti's, which is actually at Land Between the Lakes in Kentucky. Their most famous item is the two-inch pork chop. So: big meal, great weather. It was the birthday of KS, my youngest brother's longtime girlfriend (Happy Birthday, K!), so she got a free dessert and has been able to enforce her will with D, my brother (haha). It is most refreshing to me to have my brothers around, and I've been able to talk a lot with my parents about the Semester That Nearly Killed Me.

I'm learning to rightly appreciate, to rightly evaluate, to rightly honor my upbringing. One thing I noted the other night is that the three brothers are each in the arts & humanities. I'm an english professor. B my first brother is in theater. D my third brother is getting an MFA in ceramics at Clemson University. None of us are ever going to make any large amount of money, and I maintain that had we pursued it, we'd all be pretty good musicians. As it is, we've each got an area of ground staked out, and I think we all appreciate what the other does.

In short, it's been fun.

New Year Letter (2)

O Ichthus playful in the deep
Sea-lodges that forever keep
Their secret of excitement hidden,
O sudden wind that blows unbidden,
Parting the quiet reeds, O Voice
Within the labyrinth of choice
Only the passive listener hears,
O Clock and Keeper of the years,
O source of equity and rest,
Quando non fuerit, non est,
It without image, paradigm
Of matter, motion, number, time,
The grinning gap of Hell, the hill
Of Venus and the stairs of Will,
Disturb our negligence and chill,
Convict our pride of its offence
In all things, even penitence,
Instruct us in the civil art
Of making from the muddled heart
A desert and a city where
The thoughts that have to labour there
May find locality and peace,
And pent-up feelings their release,
Send strength sufficient for our day,
And point our knowledge on its way,
O da quod jubes, Domine.

(from Auden, New Year Letter, 1940)