In which Piers bids goodbye to a long time companion

Through a set of fortuitous accidents and doctor visits, I ran out of my prescription of Buproprion (aka Wellbutrin).

I am down to only one pill, and I honestly feel sharper than I have in a while.  And I'm not napping as much.  Win-win.  No negative results so far, though I will of course be discussing these and many other matters when I speak to my new shrink in a couple of months.

Basic Adulthood, Part 3

Being an adult means that you accept consequences for your behavior.  Nothing is more pathetic than a grown person who chooses a path in his or her life and then either attempts to deny that he has chosen that path, or wants to find a way around the natural outcomes of that choice.  An average adult is free to do just about anything he wants with his body, and he revels in that liberty while remaining fully mindful of the price of that freedom: foreseen and unforeseen consequences, both pleasant and not. 

But Piers, you will say, no one gets to choose everything about their life.  Agreed.  But everyone is granted a certain measure of choice, which is why each person must accept responsibility for the choices granted him.  My students laugh and groan when I tell them that they do not have to come to class, and that they don't have to complete their assignments . . . as long as they are willing to accept the grade that results.  They do not know how serious I am.

Sometimes, thankfully, we are given a reprieve.  But that's known as grace; it's a gift, not an entitlement.

In which Piers stands Janus-like

I have been using some of my time to do some reading and writing this week, since I'm alone in NWTN while my other family members live it up in big cities.  The above is something that has been rattling around in my head for the past couple of days, so I jotted it down and realized several things:

1.  This could actually be a reasonably useful book.
2.  This could be a book I could actually write.
3.  This is a book that could tie together everything I've studied for the past 15 years.
4.  This is a scary proposition.

I wrote the following in my journal this morning, before I got to the other writing of the day:

It looks like I'm on the verge of the first of several really difficult but absolutely necessary choices. It could be that the next phase of my life requires that I give up the security of what I've built up for myself here.

I followed up that thought with the (typically pessimistic) phrase "maybe I'm not up to it." But I kinda think I have to be.  Here as the Great Liminal Summer winds to a close, I am being (divinely?) called to take greater risks than I've ever taken. I'm a little frightened.

Adventures in Academe, Vol. 7

Dude, here's a suggestion:  lighten up, hit delete, and move on with your life.

"Resent the intrusion," my ass.  If Mr. Associate Professor's life is so thrown out of balance by a stray or strange email, how in the world does he handle dealing with students?

Readers will note that Piers did not in fact add to the email crisis by responding to this stuffed shirt.

Monday Update, Bachelor Edition

Just me and the animals this week.  The Runner is off seeing her mom, and the three children are down in Atlanta visiting my parents.  This means that the house is very quiet, except when The Mutt decides that she needs some kind of attention.  She has actually been pretty needy for the past couple of days . . . she tends to get uneasy when The Runner isn't around.  She sits in the front room a lot and keeps a lookout.

I have set for myself an ambitious program of chores and work related tasks in order to pass the time while everyone is gone.  One of the major projects is to clean out the room inhabited by Number One and Little Red.  It's a horror-show in there.  After spending some time going through their toy drawers, I have a better understanding of why they find it so hard to clean up; they are utterly overwhelmed.  I predict at least one huge trash bag being toted out of there.

Amazing how much time this summer has been devoted to things directly related to house/yard maintenance, or to the three boys.   And of course now that The Runner is going the triathlon route, that's another thing for us to keep in mind.  I am totally impressed with how strong, fast, and fearless she is. It's inspiring.

Basic Adulthood, Part 2

The true adult thinks before she speaks. She understands that words have consequences, just like actions do. She keeps in mind that especially in cyberspace, they tend to be permanent.  She does not treat her or others' personal or online space as a bathroom stall or a psychiatrist's couch.  She determines for herself whether her words are necessary, truthful, and constructive, and she chooses them accordingly. She understands that self-expression is nice, but hardly all-important; thus she avoids the adolescent's fault of mistaking a lack of discretion for "authenticity." Most importantly, she understands that sometimes she need not speak at all.

Basic Adulthood, Part 1

 Being an adult means being mindful of how your actions affect other people.  An adult controls her physical and/or virtual presence contained so as to neither harm nor harass the other people, because she recognizes that her actions ripple outward and into others' spheres.  This principle holds when driving, when walking in the hall, at ball games, at the Wal-Mart, and especially on Facebook.

Adventures in Academe, Vol. 6

University students are fleeing humanities courses. Among the reasons is the simple fact, reported here and elsewhere: humanities departments no longer teach the humanities.

From Had Enough Therapy?

It is so very hard to keep the ol' chin up when I survey my career. I work very hard to be a responsible custodian of the legacy I've been given, and I do believe that I'm doing my job reasonably well. I doubt that's enough.

I am not a good Baptist, Vol. 2

In the packet for the sunday school class (apparently, however, we're supposed to call them "connect groups" now) this morning was an announcement that at the beginning of September there will be a banquet with a "motivational speaker" to help the church ramp up the next phase of its building program.  This so that all the people at the church who are unaware of the building program will become aware of "how God is working" . . . through the building program.  Also, we were urged to sign up for the "Visiting Team" to do the work of going into people's houses to give them the hard sell for pledges, etc.

Thus it begins, as the consultants and motivational speakers and other people from outside the church begin to exert their will.  Once the gears start grinding and the machinery really starts working, there's no applying the brakes.

"For books are not absolutely dead things"

"When evening comes, I return home and go into my study. On the threshold I strip off the muddy, sweaty clothes of everyday, and put on the robes of court and palace, and in this graver dress I enter the antique courts of the ancients and am welcomed by them, and there I taste the food that alone is mine, and for which I was born. And there I make bold to speak to them and ask the motives of their actions, and they, in their humanity, reply to me. And for the space of four hours I forget the world, remember no vexation, fear poverty no more, tremble no more at death; I pass indeed into their world."

 --Machiavelli, in a letter to Francesco Vettori

 
I will grant that I have an absurd number of books (not as many as I might wish) . . . I have them everywhere.  I keep them around years and years after I've read them.  Some I keep around for years before I read them!

One reason they are so important to me, sitting there with all their spines showing, is that they are thus a kind of intellectual biography. They remind me of where I've been and how I've developed as a person and a thinker. 

The only time I really don't like them is when it comes time to move.

Adventures in Academe, Vol. 5

I am about to submit paperwork for my yearly performance review.  This marks as good an occasion as I can think of to take stock of what I'm doing here. In order to be successful as an associate professor on this faculty, I must do the following things:

1. I need to complete all the paperwork and I need to respond to email messages in a timely and appropriate manner.
2. I need to serve faithfully and consistently on department, college, and university-level committees.
3. I need to attend the appropriate department, college, committee, and general faculty meetings.
4. I need to effectively "advise" or more appropriately shepherd students through the curriculum.
5. I need to teach the equivalent of four courses per semester and have most of those course seats full.
6. I need to receive student evaluations from those courses in which I score 4.6/5.0 or better.
7. I need to continue to read and study, incorporating new ideas and procedures into my classroom.
8. I need to produce original scholarship for conferences and for publication.
9. I need to remain current in my field of study and continue to look for grants, symposia, etc.

All of these things are good things to be doing, and thankfully I don't have to do all of them at the same time or on the same days (usually).  Each job has the parts we like, and the parts we do so we can do the parts we like.

I am not a good Baptist, Vol. 1

My heart dropped into my stomach today while I was at the auto mechanic.  No, it wasn't due to the repair job (just tires and brake pads--expensive enough, but not catastrophic).  It was due to a conversation I had with the owner, a man who usually sits behind or in front of us on Sundays and who has expressed some amusement at the antics of the three urchins.  He sat down and talked about the recent reveal of the next building phase of the church.  The total projected cost at this point (with no overruns, etc):  $10 million.  He expressed some reservations.

While I am fairly confident about the character of the (very young) pastor we have, I am not confident about his ability to keep the marketers, architects, builders, fundraisers, etc., in check.  And I am certainly not confident about the ability of this church in this town to absorb that kind of financial obligation.  It is going to be awfully painful to watch the whole circus start up and take over everything the church does.  We have watched it happen at two other churches.

Of course, the congregation could vote "NO" and force a much more modest plan...but we know that won't happen.

Monday Update, Post Florida Edition

It is difficult to pick up where I left off about three weeks ago in my office work.  It is especially difficult in my case because once I have deviated from my routine, it takes me a long time to get started again.  I am a slow starter anyway.

I'm pretty good once I get wound up, but it takes a little while to get there.

Number One Son had a rite of passage yesterday--he, Little Red, and Lefty were playing in the field out behind our house, and apparently they strayed too close to a wasp nest that was up under a rock.  From inside the house, we heard bloodcurdling shrieking, running out to see that he had been zapped about six times.  The other two escaped unscathed.  Once he had calmed down, we were able to say, "well, you've been stung by a bunch of wasps.  It hurts.  But also, you didn't die from it!"

This after he had a bike crash on Saturday.

Number One is also apparently in a growth spurt.  His recent performances at the dinner table (and lunch and breakfast too) have been impressive.  This is good--maybe he and Little Red won't be wearing all the same undies and shorts when school starts. 

The Runner continues to hit the bike riding pretty hard.  I am glad that she has this to do, because the running isn't happening this summer--and because the running club is a source of major stress and frustration for her right now.  She and the neighbor, though, can get out and scoot for their hour or so, and they come back all smiles.  The only downside (or is it an upside?):  There is an absurd number of bikes in my garage.  I need a second garage for the actual automobiles.

In which Piers suddenly has to keep up

The Runner bought herself a Felt ZW95 three weeks ago, and she has found riding the bicycle to be a whole lot of fun.  The intensity has picked up even more because our neighbor and her running buddy L also bought herself one.  They have hit the rides pretty hard, to the point where by the end of the summer I imagine she'll easily be keeping up or even surpassing my efforts.  This morning I anticipated that she and her partner would ride about fifteen miles . . . they did twenty-five.  Awesome for them. 

I shouldn't be surprised--she is as strong as an ox.

In which Piers is pensive

The best way to describe the past six months is "living through a slow realization":

I'm good, just not that good; I was told yesterday after the ride that I looked "powerful" as I was going up some of the hills. I was grateful for the praise, but I also recognize that I look "powerful" only in comparison to other middle aged men who ride more or less recreationally and for fitness. I've seen people who actually look powerful on a bike, and who have the equipment to make the most of that power. I'm not there, not really.

Similarly, I've been told that I'm "smart." Fair enough--I know that I'm smart. But I also know I'm actually "smart" mostly in comparison with other people who work and live in the kind of place I work and live. I have been around genuinely brilliant people, and read their work, and read about their lives, and I know enough to know that I'm not there, not really.

The same goes for looks, and wit, and wisdom, and talent, and focus. I am quite aware of my limitations...that I'm not there, not really.

Some people write these sorts of things in an attempt to get some reassuring praise. Not me--I'm writing to help myself figure out what's most important, and what counts as a successful life.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

On (not) getting the job done

I have listened to one of my colleagues tell about his experience teaching this summer, and have noted in more than one case his frustration with the students coming to him. His frustration, however, is not with their weak intellects ... It is with the incredibly poor level of preparation they have for doing even slightly serious work. And I'm not talking about 1st year students...I'm talking about upperclassmen. One student wrote a response to A Streetcar Named Desire in which she offered a scathing (and completely incoherent) critique of US foreign policy in the 20th Century. The entire piece was a non sequitur. When asked about it, she admitted that she didn't believe or really understand a word of what she had written...she was just providing a summary of what she had been taught in a US history class--by one of our colleagues--the previous term. Bravo to that professor, who surely spoke truth to power...and taught his charges very little.

He had another student express to him her frustration that only now, at the end of her fifth class taught by a member of our department, did she understand that "English" was about so much more than grammar...and that it could be rewarding.

Mere anecdotes, right? Right?

Velo

I have had a much better riding summer than I've had in years--maybe ever since I got the bike.  I never did name the thing, which is a shame.  It has served me well in many respects, especially seeing as I have had no racing or triathlon ambitions . . . I just want to ride, and feel like I'm getting better at it over time.  The difference this year has been that I actually had an exercise program over the winter and came to the warmer months far more ready to ride than ever before.  I also made some upgrades on the bike that seem to have helped.  I'm going faster and farther.

Which brings me to today's 30-mile ride. At about halfway, I started to get frustrated because the bike just felt sluggish.  It may have been me, but my legs felt plenty fine and I wasn't having a hard time catching my breath.  It seemed like the bike just didn't want to go when I pushed it.  I have noticed this year, perhaps because of my increased strength or perhaps because I'm imagining it, that I feel more "give" in the bike when I'm really pushing hard.

Is this why people eventually upgrade their whole machine? I'm not in the market for a bike (especially since we just bought one for The Runner), and I have no desire to get on some overbuilt pro-level job. But if I keep feeling like it just doesn't want to get up and go when I want it to, I'll be more and more apt to start looking for a new one.  There are only about a couple hundred options out there...and they'll be happy to take my money.

Monday Update, Back to It Edition

 The measure of a life
Is the measure of love and respect,
So hard to earn, so easily burned--


So, we returned from our little trip to Florida, and I have returned to my blog, hoping to use it more effectively for what I need right now.


The first step may be attending to the notion of what I need right now.  Well, that and what is required of me.  That's important too.


For now, I'm remembering the words above, written by Neil Peart...keeping the long view in mind and remembering that love, respect, and trust are in fact so easily burned.