Clarks Desert Boots, beeswax, brand new on the left and four (or five) years old on the right. Good for just about every occasion. The old ones are still going strong (they started out looking like the pair on the left), but I got a good deal on the new ones. I have an even older pair in taupe suede that I’m still wearing.
ANNNNND, just like that, no more problem. I’ll bet the behind the scenes communications would be fun to read.
Seriously, I’m grateful to both entities for being willing to reach some sort of agreement. I rely on this subscription for basically all my research such as it is.
In which the demands of the market and the demands of scholarship collide. This won’t hurt people at the more wealthy institutions, but for those of us at the small ones, it’s a major blow.
And so the time of year came in which we would carve the swine, and roast it, and feast our friends, and give thanks for the coming autumn. For 18 years I did just that, both in Chapel Hill (helping the honorable WT) and here in NWTN, and never once were we rained out or otherwise interrupted. Until this past Friday, when the rain set in and would not quit. And so, despite the lamentations of our children, we were forced to cancel our Tenth Annual Hawks Road Hawg Roast.
We stood in the rain and watched the boys play soccer instead.
We are preparing for birthday party #11 for Number One Son. He wants a sleepover. That is not a possibility in our little house unless we have a BACKYARD CAMPING SLEEPOVER! Which seems like a bonus for the boys but actually is just a measure to keep them from destroying our house.
Little Red went to the eye doctor — we were thinking that he would need glasses, based on some of his recent behavior, but as it turns out he just has a mild astigmatism that doesn’t need any treatment yet.
Soccer games continue every Saturday. There have been some wins and some losses — alas, there have been more losses than wins for Little Red’s team, which has a kind but inexperienced coach. Though when Little Red plays defender, he might as well be called The Eraser. He’s better off not having to run during the game (!)
The children are on Fall Break this week from Monday through Wednesday. We’re trying to keep Number One doing his work, and trying to get the children to do some chores. Funny how it’s hard to make that happen.
Unless one is hiding under a rock, it’s impossible to be working in higher ed without running into the burgeoning TITLE IX Industry. We recently faced our own little adventure with “consultants” who came and “trained” us in our role as “mandatory reporters” of “sexual misconduct” . . . not reporters to the police, mind you, but to our campus’s designated TITLE IX COORDINATOR (who I know, and who is an honest man, and who is in the job on an interim basis).
It was an experience remarkably incoherent and Orwellian all at the same time. Some of my colleagues were subjected to an emotionally harrowing testimonial of a “rape” that took place more than two decades ago (!) Some of my colleagues were subjected to a presenter who purported to give advice and coherent definitions, and whose examples included one student looking at another’s ankles (!), and whose advice included allowing a student to opt out of the entire class if he/she/xe/zhe feels too “challenged” by the material. I was in the group that was subjected to a young man whose statements included things like the following:
Ye gods.
I am not convinced that the “problem” being presented to us is anything more than a remarkably brazen power grab on the part of unaccountable government bureaucrats and the academic-administrator power bloc. But even assuming that there is an actual problem with campus rape culture (again, something that has not been demonstrated by any honest measure), my campus has shown that it is unserious about the situation by promulgating a legally binding document that shows essentially no provisions for due process and by hiring consultants (reportedly at $50K) who demonstrably couldn’t find their (or anyone else’s) asses with both hands. The faculty at this institution may not have a University of Chicago pedigree, I’ll admit, but we deserve a serious approach. We have not yet seen one.
