Progeny

When The Big Brother got home yesterday (we'd been to the public library for him to check out some books), he immediately went to his room & closed his door so he could read through them all. He then spent a good amount of time turning over the bricks bordering the flowerbed so he could find worms & grubs & roly-polys & ant nests.















When Little Red got home, he wanted to eat & eat & eat. He then helped me prune the rose bushes while munching on something he found in the flower garden (I don't know what). He has become quite talkative: "gyeeehh buh buh beehh dee dyuhh blaaaaaaa" is what he just told me (among other words that cannot be rendered in a standard English alphabet).

Today they both helped their mother wash the car, thereby ensuring that the process took 2/3 again as long as it should have.

Still My Favorite

*nods ruefully*

WANT

This is a beautiful bike. Want.

Update: The Clubman isn't bad either.

There is too much--let me sum up

(the above seems apt. . . and is a pretty hot looking bike, in my opinion)

I spent some time yesterday afternoon cleaning up, lubing, tuning my bike. I've not had it out on the road in a long time. Here's the frustrating thing: now that it's all ready to go, I get a leaden sensation in my limbs when I think about taking it out on the road. Nah. Why bother? It's a whole lot of trouble, and there's gonna be a damn dog at some house, and what are you hoping to achieve, anyway? It's the same story no matter what kind of exercise I think about doing.

**
Preparing to teach my summer classes starting on Monday. Course documents are ready to go; material is quite familiar. The only variables: the students themselves, and whether I'll have enough of them. Right now it's looking like about 8 per class.

**
The word "mono" has been thrown around a lot at our house recently. I'm pretty sure that the galloping grippe that wiped all the boys out wasn't mono, but a bug that acts a lot like it (with the critical difference that it's much faster). Fortunately, everyone is healthy now, and The Spouse never succumbed to it. In fact, the other three all spent late yesterday afternoon playing with the sprinkler and the slip-n-slide.

**
Meanwhile, I am attempting to resurrect a completely moribund research programme. I had momentum at one point, but the challenges of the past ten months have pretty much undone whatever progress I might have made up to this point. Frankly, I'm completely out of ideas, and if it weren't for the tenure clock and a couple of additional deadlines, I'm not sure I'd care. Whence comes the apathy? Excellent question, Glaucon. I'm not sure that diploma in front of me isn't more of a rebuke than anything else.

**
Waiting for word from Atlanta about Mamaw. She's not apt to be with us for much longer, but then, we've been saying that for a few weeks now.

**
On the bright side:
The new MacBook is doing quite nicely. It seems blazing fast when compared to ol' trusty Jack, the Powerbook G4. I like OSX 10.5.7 quite a lot as well, and the version of iLife this machine has.

Also: looks like we're making headway on getting a new roof, and a new windshield for Zippy.

We've tried a new gardening method this year, and the plants look incredibly healthy--for now. Still, it's far more success than we've enjoyed in previous summers. If this works like it looks like it will, expect us to triple or quadruple our efforts next year.

Strawberry shortcake, barbecue, beer-can chicken: all have been featured on the menu within the past four days. And yes, I'm putting some weight on again, though I'm still way down in pants & shirt size. No two ways about it: I shrunk.

**
In countless ways. But enough now.

Things that are awesome, Vol. 5

Argyle!

Specifically, the pattern that runs down the side of the Tar Heel basketball uniform. I've always liked it. Simple, but unique. Along with the color, pretty unmistakable. One of the "starter" bits of Tar Heel lore is that the design is Alexander Julian's.

And they (Nike, that is) even puts it on the shoes:















I'd love a pair of those. I might even wear them from time to time.

But Bilbo didn't actually go all that far, did he?

You knew I was too weak to just walk away entirely.

Speaking of which: here's a fun game, called the Enneagram. It will tell you more unpleasantness about yourself than you thought possible. I learned about it last Tuesday, and no, it's not really a game. Far from it. The psychotherapist I've been working with has taken to calling me a "Romantic," which I would love to see as a massive & unjust calumny--if it weren't so true. At least according to this paradigm.

I'm a 4.
I'm a 4.

Am I happy about being a 4? the "Romantic," the "Individualist," the "Sensitive, Introspective Type," who struggles with, among other things, the conviction that I "have no identity or personal significance," and the festive trio of "melancholy, self-indulgence, and self-pity"? No. Hell, no. Maybe the worst part here is that it's forcing me to admit that I'm an emotional person who has learned (to my great cost) to mistrust feelings. It may say something that I've focused on the problem/challenge areas.

On the other hand, this could be useful to know. The paradigm can't show me how to fix it (or I guess I should say "show me how to make it healthy rather than destructive), but it can illumine "what in me is dark." It's a start.

Cue Track 2 on Peter Gabriel's US.

(diagram from ashlandenneagram.com)

finally, he said, I wish to make an ANNOUNCEMENT. He spoke this word so loudly and suddenly that everyone sat up who still could. I regret to announce that--though, as I said, eleventy-one years is far too short a time to spend among you--this is the END. I am going. I am leaving NOW. GOOD-BYE!

XV

Suppose he'd listened to the erudite committee,
He would have only found where not to look;
Suppose his terrier when he whistled had obeyed,
It would not have unearthed the buried city;
Suppose he had dismissed the careless maid,
The cryptogram would not have fluttered from the book.

"It was not I," he cried as, healthy and astounded,
He stepped across a predecessor's skull;
"A nonsense jingle simply came into my head
And left the intellectual Sphinx dumbfounded;
I won the Queen because my hair was red;
The terrible adventure is a little dull."

Hence Failure's torment: "Was I doomed in any case,
Or would I not have failed had I believed in grace?"

(Auden, 1940)

Retreat

run away! run away!

Be well aware, quoth then that Ladie milde,
Least suddaine mischiefe ye too rash prouoke:
The danger hid, the place vnknowne and wilde,
Breedes dreadfull doubts: Oft fire is without smoke,
And perill without show: therefore your stroke
Sir knight with-hold, till further triall made.
Ah Ladie (said he) shame were to reuoke
The forward footing for an hidden shade:
Vertue giues her selfe light, through darkenesse for to wade.

Yea but (quoth she) the perill of this place
I better wot then you, though now too late
To wish you backe returne with foule disgrace,
Yet wisedome warnes, whilest foot is in the gate,
To stay the steppe, ere forced to retrate.
This is the wandring wood, this Errours den,
A monster vile, whom God and man does hate:
Therefore I read beware. Fly fly (quoth then
The fearefull Dwarfe:) this is no place for liuing men.

(Faerie Queene 1.1)

Having come up against an implacable bacterial foe, we have prudently determined that a strategic withdrawal to West Tennessee is in order. We shall return to the fray at times and places of our choosing.

The Two

You are the town and we are the clock.
We are the guardians of the gate in the rock.
The Two.
On your left and on your right
In the day and in the night,
We are watching you.

Wiser not to ask just what has occurred
To them who disobeyed our word;
To those
We were the whirlpool, we were the reef,
We were the formal nightmare, grief
And the unlucky rose.

Climb up the crane, learn the sailor’s words
When the ships from the islands laden with birds
Come in.
Tell your stories of fishing and other men’s wives:
The expansive moments of constricted lives
In the lighted inn.

But do not imagine we do not know
Nor that what you hide with such care won’t show
At a glance.
Nothing is done, nothing is said,
But don’t make the mistake of believing us dead:
I shouldn’t dance.

We’re afraid in that case you’ll have a fall.
We’ve been watching you over the garden wall
For hours.
The sky is darkening like a stain,
Something is going to fall like rain
And it won’t be flowers.

When the green field comes off like a lid
Revealing what was much better hid:
Unpleasant.
And look, behind you without a sound
The woods have come up and are standing round
In deadly crescent.

The bolt is sliding in its groove,
Outside the window is the black removers’ van.
And now with sudden swift emergence
Come the woman in dark glasses and humpbacked surgeons
And the scissors man.

This might happen any day
So be careful what you say
Or do.
Be clean, be tidy, oil the lock,
Trim the garden, wind the clock,
Remember the Two.

(W. H. Auden)

A fish story

Being a Marlin, I'm awfully thankful for the Dorys in my life. I'm glad I'm at least alert enough to be thankful.

(Finding Nemo is the third movie we've watched on this, The Big Brother's sick day)

Fates worse than death

Reader's Block (from The Urban Dictionary):

Related to Writer's Block, this is when you cannot, for the life of you, pick up a book and read it. Sure, you may be able to read a paragraph or two, or maybe even a page, but you don't retain anything of what you just read or have the attention span and/or will to go on. This is common for those who have ADD, are in possession of garbage literature, or are just so exhausted from having to read so many books during school/college that reading anything else, even for pleasure, has become impossible. To those who love to read, this is worse than heart disease and cancer combined.

Academic Writing (from Amis's Lucky Jim):

Dixon felt that, on the contrary, he had a good idea of what his article was worth from several points of view. From one of these, the thing's worth could be expressed in one short hyphenated indecency; from another, it was worth the amount of frenzied fact-grubbing and fanatical boredom that had gone into it; from yet another, it was worthy of its aim, the removal of the 'bad impression' he'd so far made in the College and in his Department.

There's a third, but it'll have to wait for another day.

Things that are awesome, Vol. 4

The Cherry Limeade

I had my first one at a Sonic somewhere in Texas. Since then, it's my standby. I'll sometimes branch out (cranberry limeade, mango limeade), but this is just right. Glad we have a Sonic in town so I can get more of that goodness in me (apologies to Brian Regan). Once I'm done with one, I'll keep drinking water out of the Styrofoam cup & let the limes flavor the water until Little Red finds the straw and/or cup and mangles it.

I can't tell you, however, how long it's been since I ate one of the cherries. Someone else always seems to get mine.

Mrs. Hill

(that's her in the middle, with the gloves--a few years ago)

Here are some of the memories I treasure:

**Doing math flash cards with her when I was a preschooler.

**The Garfield birthday cakes.

**The night she sneaked into our bedroom, face plastered with cold cream, and gave me the fright of my life. I think I actually managed to climb the wall.

**She finally drilled me & drilled me on those damn math time tests (100 addition problems in three minutes! it took me a year and a half to successfully pass the first level!).

**How she would step into a taxi cab with such authority: derecho lang!

**Visiting her in the hospital just after she gave birth to my youngest brother.

**That time she made me re-write & re-submit the John Paul Jones research paper--for no credit--just to make me do it the right way.

**Her valiant typing-up of my middle school research papers--late into the night.

**We used to go scuba diving--she would sit up on the boat & "watch for the bubbles," as she put it.

**Listening to her and Aunt Carol tell stories from the Dagupan days, including the one about the rats, and the one about the scissors.

**She and Dad never missed a performance of any kind, not one.

Chasing Rabbits

It's evaluation time!

**One student wrote me a selection from Lewis Carroll!
to wit:

The time has come, the walrus said,
To talk of many things;
of ships, and sails, and sealing wax,
Of cabbages and kings.

and included a cartoon.

**I'm getting dinged for being too scatterbrained and distracted at times. If only they knew why.

**I'm "uber flamboyant." But I keep the feather boas at home, thank goodness.

**I need to include more star wars references. What, Spaceballs and Star Trek not enough for ya?

**This one means a whole lot to me: "Dr. Hill led me away from trying to be overly sophisticated when I write. I always thought that was a good thing but now I realize I've been mistaken. Thanks Dr. Hill!"

**"I bet some students didn't understand the random pop culture references. For them I say know your 80's!"

**I got one eval consisting entirely of stick cartoons.

**I do not get my feathers ruffled when there are two giant chickens in class (true story!)

**And there's this one, which I don't know what to make of: "It is UTM's priviledge to employ a prof. as fine as Dr. Hill is. He has been on of the most influencial beings in my life, and I am honored to have been in his classes. I cannot praise him enough." surely, this is mere flattery, right?

Anybody want a peanut?

From a series of one-star reviews of famous books & films & music:

People who hate The Princess Bride. Seriously. For example:

I have no idea what this is. This can’t be a movie because movies are supposed to be good. The story is assanine and unbelievable. The title makes no sense. What exactly is a princess bride who is named after a buttercup. I was made to watch this movie in school and it was torture. Thank you.

You should enjoy reading these.

"This is true love. Do you think this happens every day?"

The Quest XII

Incredulous, he stared at the amused
Official writing down his name among
Those whose request to suffer was refused.

The pen ceased scratching; though he came too late
To join the martyrs, there was still a place
Among the tempters for a caustic tongue

To test the resolution of the young
With tales of the small failings of the great,
And shame the eager with ironic praise.

Though mirrors might be hateful for a while,
Women and books would teach his middle age
The fencing wit of an informal style,
To keep the silences at bay and cage
His pacing manias in a worldly smile.

(W. H. Auden, 1940)

Office Cleaning

I decided to tackle one of the boxes of old exams and papers that reside under my 'work table'--i.e., the table I'd use for working if it weren't covered with papers and books from current classes. I work through stacks and stacks of paper, recalling face after face as I read the names on the envelopes. I wonder what became of some of them. I see a few around campus from time to time. Sometimes I remember the names; most of the time I don't.

The ones that are left, like from Fall 07, weren't picked up by the students who wrote them. That's fine. I open each one, taking out paper clips so I can stick the paper in the recycle bin. I look at the green ink on the cover pages, comments that I made, attempts at jokes, encouragement and frank appraisal . . . written only for me, in the end.

I fear I'm sounding like Jaques! I'd rather be Orlando, but I fear that's not my role to play.

Department of Mixed Blessings

From a student email that I read this morning:

reguardless i would like to thank you for being so understanding with me this semester, you are truely one of the nicest gentlemen i have met, and would like to thank you for all your help keeping me caught up this semester with my family issues.

I'm glad to be nice; that and $3.00 will get you a grande latte (skim; no foam) at Starbucks.

I'll try not to speak.

Yes, but don't get caught.

In a moment of honesty that one sees sometimes in an exam answer:

Finally, beautiful women are just fun to look at. It's indisputable.

3.11.54 for 5/4/09

And as she lookt about, she did behold,
How ouer that same dore was likewise writ,
Be bold, be bold, and euery where Be bold,
That much she muz'd, yet could not construe it
By any ridling skill, or commune wit.
At last she spyde at that roomes vpper end,
Another yron dore, on which was writ,
Be not too bold; whereto though she did bend
Her earnest mind, yet wist not what it might intend.

drops

Our roses and azaleas--even the forlorn peony--were in full glory right before the rain started. Fully bloomed flowers don't like hard rain.

**
The first exam I graded today: 44. ulp. The second: 53. yay! improving!

**
Speaking of exams, one of my students used the phrase "Phoenix Downs" when referring to Redcrosse Knight's miraculous (sacramental) regeneration during his fight against the dragon. I wrote WIN in the margin. Reminds me of playing FFVII--what a great game that was, sitting in that spartan room in Odum Village, staring at a little bitty computer monitor.

**
Little Red is tearing up our house. Honestly, we've given up storing anything in the drawers in our bathroom. The other day, he brought a (glass) bottle of aftershave all the way into the kitchen.

**
The Big Brother is blossoming in all sorts of ways: all of a sudden, he's drawing & painting & reading (attempting to, anyway) & writing, which he hadn't been doing in ages. He's even started putting arms on his people along with the legs and feet and ears and hair. He's also become quite argumentative, and seems to want to interrupt me or his mom any time we start talking. The other day, he said it was "Daddy's fault" that he had his "barking cough," and last night, he grouched that the Wii was "annoying" him. We surmise that it has something to do with all the attention Little Red is demanding at the moment.

**
I left them all peacefully sleeping this morning when I stepped out the door.

**
The Big Brother told me on Saturday that he'll marry me because we have to marry our friends, and he doesn't like girls. Later on he allowed that he could marry Mommy, because he likes her even if she is a girl.

**
It's bittersweet to say goodbye to the students. Well, to most of them, anyway. You may be surprised, but it has very little to do with the eventual letter grade they earned. For example, the most pleasing paper I read this term had some pretty glaring imperfections, but it was such an ambitious, well-planned essay. The student actually tried to do something instead of just going through the motions. She always does good work, but this was . . . different.

**
I'm not particularly looking forward to Saturday.

Cabin Fever

Little Red paints his first picture:



















...and paints himself:



















A study in two body types:

This is why I love TMQ

In what other football column could you read something like the following?

In economic news, facing a budget crunch, the Bronx Zoo will lay off dozens of animals, including bats, caimans, porcupines, lemurs, night monkeys, Arabian oryx and two types of antelope. I am not making this up! How is a caiman supposed to find another zoo to work at in this economy? And the oryx, are they in the country legally or should they be deported to Arabia? This got me to thinking: I bet times are tough for movie monsters, too. What if Godzilla gets laid off? He'll be in a foul mood and take out his frustrations on Tokyo. If the "Cloverfield" sequel gets canceled for cost-cutting reasons, that monster could end up as some kind of juvenile delinquent, staying out all hours, associating with the wrong kinds of creatures. King Kong, Mothra, the Blob -- none of them has the right résumé for globalization, either. Imagine a couple of unemployed movie monsters bumping into each other in a studio lot:

PREDATOR: Wassup 'Zilla? Got a gig?

GODZILLA: I would rather not talk about it.

PREDATOR: Any residuals checks come in lately?

GODZILLA: I said, I don't want to talk about it! (Smashes skyscraper.)