Oklahoma OK

I'm happy to report a roaring success in McKenzie. This weekend, my brother directed his first production (see title above), and it was a roaring success. Every show was sold out, and word of mouth meant that they actually had to turn away people for some evening shows. W and I and my parents all went to the Saturday matinee and enjoyed it tremendously. And I say that as a person who's never been a huge R&H fan.

I mention this because I'm proud and excited for his (and the students') success, but also because he and his wife have had a difficult time with the town and the college. Their adjustment to life in West Tennessee has not been as smooth as we had hoped it would be. But hey, hopefully they can build on this momentum.

By way of Chicago, a new awesome food

"eh?" you say, in response to that incoherent title. Well, I got an email from my beautiful and brilliant friend SWS a couple of days ago that featured this news item:

new fair food

her comment: "don't you think this is taking things a little too far?"

my comment: are you kidding? There is no taking things a little too far when it comes to state fair food!

In Which Piers Revels in the Irony

Unintended gaffe of the week, from a student paper:

Sure, there is nothing wrong with people speaking a second language or even foreigners speaking in their native tongue at home, but if a foreigner wants to come to the U.S. to live and work, he should have to not only have to become a citizen, but also learn to recognizable English.

Happy Halloween

W made this costume.

Not sure what face he's trying to make. A scary scarecrow, maybe?

In Which Piers Squirms in his Seat

Today, during a College of Humanities and Fine Arts luncheon, I sat down beside one of the faculty members our department just hired. The following conversation ensued:

"So, that student in your Spenser seminar, the one you told me about?"

yes?

How has she performed when you give assignments?

well, she is good--generally in the "B" range, certainly not the best writer, but pretty sharp.

"Well, I have just given papers back, and I've got a question about your experience with her. She asked for an extension, I gave her one, and what she handed in was about half the length of what I asked for. Is this going to be a recurring problem that I'm going to have to address, in your experience?"

that you're going to have to address? errr. . . well. . . (meanwhile, Piers thinks about how he has bragged on the insight and motivation of said student, and about how said student and several others have complained bitterly about the approach and attitude of this particular individual in his class--not to mention the material he is having them read. Conversations in which Piers has kept his mouth shut and his face neutral) . . . she's a single mom? maybe that was a mitigating factor this time?

Needless to say, Piers found an excuse to get up . . . I believe it was related to a chocolate chip cookie.

How do you know you're dealing with a hack?

Well, when the music he has composed and arranged includes the following characteristics:

1. A setting of "Angels We Have Heard on High" and its gloria in excelsis deo that includes a muzak/Kenny G - type accompaniment track
2. When the only form of modulation in his choral arrangements consists of Higher! Louder! Higher! Louder!
3. The text of one of the songs contains this gem: "maybe a carpenter building things."
   

Birthday Homecoming

We spent the 21st of the month--an Especially Significant Day--down in Birmingham, Alabama at Samford University's Homecoming. It marks ten years since I graduated, which doesn't seem possible. It was a relatively small affair, featuring a football game against my present employer, UTM. How's that for serendipity? The Little Boy enjoyed some smooth jazz sounds:


I got to show him the fountain where one night I stayed up for hours reading Virgil's Aeneid, and in which a bunch of us idiotic freshman boys danced the night the Atlanta Braves won the 1992 NL Pennant (that was a dramatic win, if you remember):


We got to Stay with Uncle N and Aunt C, in their recently-purchased home in the Bluff Park area--it's an old house with a lot of character, and they really like living there (great basement!). Below, Uncle N introduces The Little Boy to the household cat, Allie--she was a bit skeptical, as one might imagine:


Thanks, Brother and Sister-in-law, for hosting us so wonderfully, and a special thanks to Uncle N for entertaining The Little Boy--who wouldn't leave him alone.

Pig Pickin a success!

Weldon Thornton would be proud.

I'm happy to report that the Big Event was a success. You'll note that I used the time-honored materials, including rusty roofing tin and concrete blocks. Ugly, but effective:


(yes, I know he's really unpleasant to look at, but he's a pig, cooking over a fire. What did you expect??)

I had help--Pappy and Grammie came up from Atlanta to join in the party and help with the preparations. Oh, and they did get a little recreation with The Little Boy:

(you'll note who's still slaving away, shoveling coal)

And we had about 60 people come to the party, plenty of children, folks from church, from my department, other moms from W's playgroup. Inexplicably, most did not want to actually "pick" the pig, though I did get a few intrepid helpers:


Summary: Got up at 3, cooked the pig from 4 until about 3 in the afternoon, shoveled six bags of charcoal and four bags of hickory wood chunks, only caught the pig on fire once, Pappy and Grammie helped The Little Boy stay occupied and enormously happy (he was outside all day long), weather was great, folks brought plenty of good food with them, we made a relatively tasty NC-style sauce, and we've got about eight containers of barbecue in the freezer now that it's all said and done.

We'll do it again next year. All family, friends, and fellow Tar Heels welcome.

PPP, Stage 4

Pig regrieved from Yoder Brothers Meats near Paris. Looks good. Next step: get up at 3:00 tomorrow morning. Full report afterwards!

PPP, stage 2 & 3

Got a sheet of partially rusted tin, enough cinder blocks, and even some hay bales.

Made barbecue sauce. First batch wretched, second batch much better.

House cleaning tonight.

Tomorrow, I drive over to Yoder's, a Mennonite meat merchant, to get our piggy friend.

Need to get more hickory chunks and more charcoal, probably.

Grammie and Pappy coming into town tomorrow.

(it may not be significant, but I dreamed of Greenlaw last night . . . it was even more strange than I remember, and of course, no one knew me. I'll know I'm really affected if I start dreaming about Thornton Manor)

In Which Piers Receives a World-Beater of an Excuse

quoting from a student email:

i apologize for missing class today on wednesday the 11. i will have my paper to you tomorrow by no later than four as you said. i had a problem with a couple of cows back home and had to tend to them. but will be back after these college rodeos.

Here's the thing: I know he's serious (and he did get me the paper this afternoon).

Pig Pickin Prep (PPP), Stage 1

The weekend was a blur--we built the pit, procured several long poles to support the oinker, got chicken wire (the second time, we got the right size), charcoal, hickory wood chunks, and some smaller bricks. We lopped branches off of some shrubbery. We weed-whacked around the new crepe myrtles. We harvested a few late tomatoes (those poor plants look really pitiful now). I sprayed some weed-killer on the backyard dandelion farm.

This morning, we verified that we're getting the right size animal, and that it'll be prepared the way it needs to be. Our main concern now is either getting some proper pig-pickin barbecue sauce, or making it (probably the latter, seeing as we are where we are). Need tables and chairs. Need a few more cinder blocks, but I think we've got a source for those. Need to sweep out and clean the garage. Yard needs mowing, but perhaps a little closer to Saturday. Probably need more charcoal/hickory wood, and I know we need coffee.

It's going to get cold down here (i.e., nighttime temps in the low-mid 40's) just in time for early Saturday morning. Better pull out that ratty lined shirt and an old toboggan--just got my hair cut, so I'm not insulated very well.

Life With a Toddler, Volume 16

Naptime. Notice his hands and his feet.

October 3 was a Big Day

. . . because it was W's birthday! The three of us went to lunch together, then W and Piers went to eat at the town's Fancy Restaurant, The Opera House. We had a great conversation, about what we want to do this winter, about where we've been, about our families. . . and believe it or not, we said very little about The Little Boy. W really liked the restaurant (it's the first time we've eaten there). We don't get out together--just the two of us--often enough.

Many thanks to Uncle B and Aunt R, who volunteered to sit at home with The Little Boy while we went out.

I've known W since she was eighteen, and she still amazes me.

Giant OCR3

During our visit to Nashville (more later, with pictures!), I visited the Allanti Bike Shop on Franklin Road in Brentwood. It's a serious bike store, the kind with $5000 - $7000 bikes hanging on the wall, made by French companies you've never heard of before. Fortunately, they are also friendly and helpful. I told the salesman that I wanted an entry-level road bike, but didn't really know which would be the way to go. He did a body scan, ran some numbers, and recommended this bike. Unfortunately, they had none of the right size in the warehouse, so I couldn't hop on one and ride the trainer for a few minutes, but I assured them that I'd be back.

So nice to meet folks who are interested in helping, who understand that any road bike is a big investment, and who take the time to get it right.

English 111

Here's the thing about teaching first-year students that I enjoy (most of the time):

Variety.

Those of us who have taught/are teaching large numbers of eighteen and nineteen year olds get to experience a rush every time we enter the classroom--because we never know what we're going to find. The same student can be a livewire one day, then come in just two days later and be a half-asleep (or completely asleep) slug. As they get older and more experienced, the peaks and valleys even out--but during that first year, wow. You find yourself adjusting on the fly to what they're giving you (particularly in a writing class, where in most cases we're not willing to spend the time lecturing).

Here's the other thing: I teach at 9 and 11 on MWF. I like my 9:00 class better than my 11:00. Not because they're necessarily smarter, but because there's a better gender balance and they seem more cooperative. In fact, I have some really sharp students in the 11:00, but as a group they're hard to work with. As fate would have it, I tend to do a better job with the class I like less, because I've already seen how the plan worked in the previous class--and I've adjusted my approach.

Turnaround is fair play, though. I remember that from high school into college, my teachers tended to wonder if I was mentally present (I was) because my face didn't register too much (again, from the other side of the podium, we have to admit that we feed off of those reactions and get concerned when we're not getting anything). Now I've got three or four really bright guys in my 11:00 class who are giving me nothing. Could this be why I like the 11:00 class less? Sure it could.

Excuse me while I climb out from under this rock

It's been that kind of week. I was up against a deadline or two, and had to spend most of my time catching up on that work--which, of course, I'd been ignoring--even as I prepared for my ten class meetings and three committee meetings and three student advising meetings this week.

Hey, it's good work. I just haven't had much time to catch my breath. On the upside, I've worked at a pace I've not been able to sustain since February and March of 2005. My guess is that the addition of the Wellbutrin has really helped. . . Zoloft alone was making me into a zombie. Another upside: the adrenalin helped me lecture the fire out of Castiglione's Book of the Courtier yesterday.

This is a big weekend, especially for W. We're going to Nashville to celebrate her birthday (which is next Tuesday) by. . . get this . . . going to the Titans-Cowboys game on Sunday afternoon. She's as thrilled as can be.

Confession

Sometimes, I miss studying novels and short stories.

That is all.

Long Faces

I handed back the first graded papers to my first-years today. Always a moment of anxiety, because I know there will be those 2 or 3 that will wonder why they've never gotten a C before. What's more, I always feel like I've been too generous.

Speaking of generous, last Thursday I caught a student messing with her cell phone. She was sitting on the front row, and evidently didn't think that I could see what her hands were doing under the 'desk.' I broke out of my remarks, and said loudly, "put - the - cellphone - away." She jumped like she had been stung. She got me back, though, registering in the end-of-period assessment that she didn't like 'sitting and listening' for the entire class time. eh.

Life With a Toddler, Vol. 15

Pray for us; The Little Boy is on his first day wearing. . .

big boy underwear.

He told me all about it on the phone just a few minutes ago.

In the category of "Things Piers Fears" . . .

. . . but for no good reason, since it's years away:

The Little Boy's education.

If you follow the link, you'll note that she is espousing a pretty intelligent point of view, but I doubt that the right people are listening.

In which Piers begins to fear his students

I'm reading 'personal essays' as the first assignment for the year. So far, I've read stories about:

• A student who got drunk on the bus ride to school one day--and I mean falling-down drunk. Needless to say she got in considerable trouble, including a stint in a boot camp style "Alternative Learning Center."
• A student who decided to "borrow" his uncle's brand new Jeep Cherokee from the church parking lot to go off-roading--during the church service. Naturally, he bogged it down, and had to walk back to the church to confess his adventure. Priceless line: "The inside of the Jeep was of all luxury you would expect from a quality Chrysler vehicle."

Next, I expect to see something about shoplifting, or drug running, or a counterfeiting ring.

Wise

Every Fall semester for the past four years, I've gone to a little medieval-renaissance conference at the University of Virginia's College at Wise. I've made some good friends there, a couple of good contacts, and learned a lot. The conference is heavy on the "medieval" part, which is OK with me, seeing as how medievalists seem to be less stuffy than we Renaissance scholars. Plus, I learn a lot.

So that's where I have been since Wednesday--got back to work on Monday, and spent all day catching up.

That's all from here for today.

The Other Big News from the Soybean Festival

My lovely wife won 1st place in her age group in the Soybean 5K! While pushing The Little Boy in the stroller! She brought home a big trophy.

Confession time!

Here's why I was so concerned about that pedagogy issue, and it's a conclusion I've come to with W over the last couple of weeks:

I have spent most of my life convinced that there's one "right" way to do anything, and that my task is to find out what that one right way is, whether anyone else is willing to lead me to it or not.

And here's why it matters: it's not true. I know that it's not true. There's not one right way to teach a Shakespeare class; there are any number of effective ways, and I'm welcome to choose among many models or generate my own. But. There's still the rub that drove Renaissance philosophers crazy: I may know the truth of the matter, but the deceptive feeling sometimes carries more power. This affected my high school career, my college career, my grad school career, making me averse to taking intellectual risks even as it made me good at being a student.

I'm not sure whether to cast this as a problem, or as one of those personality traits that I've developed over time--a quirk, as it were. Nor do I think it's unique to me. I do know that it's there, though, and that's a start.

Soybean Festival Update 5

Friday, we had "The Chicken Crazy, Hawg Wild Cook-Off," where, significantly, they give away free barbecue chicken. We even managed to score some pork and some bologna--the latter most popular with The Little Boy.
The first musical act for the night was "The Return," a Beatles tribute band. I'm here to say that they were pretty good:


The late show was 38 Special, but we didn't stay for that. For one thing, based on the folks crowding the town green, we weren't the intended audience.

Soybean Festival Update 4

Thursday afternoon: UTM Football Game--our home opener.

Big time football, this ain't, but is a fun time.

The Little Boy and Piers find a good spot on top of the hill. Good for watching the game, good for running up and down--which The Little Boy does for about an hour.

Soybean Festival Update 3

Wednesday was "Faith and Family Night," sponsored by the area churches, and featuring a couple of musical groups:
One act featured this sixteen-year old guy who played the hottest blues guitar I've heard in a long time. Jonathan really likes dancing to the blues, evidently; his dancing was met with approval by all nearby:


Hotdogs, chips, bug juice (VBS-style), and for dessert, popsicles:


Alas, as we live in Tennessee, some things are inevitable, especially during football season:

I find that to be the most annoying color in the known universe, but nobody asked me.

Soybean Festival Update 2

Tuesday was parade day! We started with a picnic at the Alpha Gamma Rho frat house, where they had fried chicken, hot dogs, hamburgers:
We ate with some of the new pledges, the chancellor, and my boss, the dean of humanities and fine arts. The good thing about eating with the chancellor is that he is more than happy to carry the conversation (those of you who know my tendencies well, feel free to laugh).

And then we went down toward the church to watch the Soybean Festival Parade:

Not a great picture, but I tried to get the Little Boy and the parade in the same shot from our crummy little camera. Anyway, I'm here to report that police and fire truck sirens, when blown within ten feet of the Little Boy, terrify said Little Boy. He did like the bands, the tractors, and the horses.

Strangest features of the parade:

• The Aaron's Rents truck hawking a Dell computer! For $99.99 a month! Own for 12 payments!
• The group of four or five muddy ATVs, all driven by high school age kids. There was even a three-wheeler amongst them, and I thought those were all illegal now. Oh well.
  

Sobering Reading for a Tuesday Morning

Link from "Inside Higher Ed". I'm uncomfortable with the writer's talk about "markets," but I think that shows my paleolithic mindset when it comes to this issue. I'm encouraging students to read Plato, the Bible, Homer--meanwhile, the whole idea of the university shifts under my feet. He may overstate the case for the sake of drama, but certainly Shakespeare and Jonson have a hard time penetrating a market of students who (according to their own writing) expect a college degree to grant them workplace skills and higher salaries.

I wonder perhaps if places like my institution and my undergraduate alma mater will eventually use extension and "non-traditional" programs to subsidize the "old" liberal-arts paradigm. One thing I can say in response: I'm not sure that the career path I've taken will be a realistic or desirable option for my son, regardless of his intelligence.

BTW, he was 'reading' large chunks of Hop on Pop from memory the other night. He even said "STOP. You must not hop on pop" in a gruff voice like we use when we're reading it.

Pedagogy challenge

In my Shakespeare class this term, I'm trying a decentered, everyone-sit-in-a-circle, discussion based approach. This is relatively new to me, and I feel like it's important to try a new approach on occasion. Here's the thing, though: yesterday, one of my 'non-traditional' students, a smart woman who's in her third class with me, commented that I'm "not as effective sitting down." I'm inclined to take her opinion seriously, because she's very much a focused adult student. So now I'm in a bit of a bind: on the one hand, part of the class structure necessitates the sit in a circle approach. On the other hand, I sure don't want to have a boring class. Do I revert back to an approach with which I'm more comfortable, or do I work harder at making this approach pay off? I'm inclined to want the versatility to be able to do either teaching style well, but my pride says go with what I know works. I am, for better or worse, keeping my eye on reputation and evaluations.

Not sure what I'm going to do, really. Comments, those of you who know about such things?

Life With a Toddler, Vol 13, part 2

Or, "adventures with the new bed"

Yesterday morning, we were awakened at 5:15 by little feet and a little voice: "mommmeee?"
We then had a restless little boy in the bed for about twenty minutes.

This morning, at 5:15: WHAMWHAMWHAMWHAM. The Little Boy had awoken, put on his cubbies hat (thanks Buzzrd and Hammie), and found the "pound the balls into the little holes" toy.

Life With a Toddler, Vol. 14

Next, he'll be sleeping till Noon, raiding the fridge, and asking for the car keys.

Life With a Toddler, Vol. 13

Well, we pulled down the crib and gave The Little Boy a twin mattress to sleep on. . . for the time being, it's sitting on the floor. W first tried it on an experimental basis for his afternoon nap:

























As you can see, he needs some help with the whole "pillow" concept.

In which Piers suffers a poignant moment

A student just came in to drop my Shakespeare class. Not a remarkable event, really--but this is an interesting case. Here's a young man from Newbern, a small town just to the south of here, who is spending his first two years at this institution and planning to transfer to Berkeley, UCLA, or USC--in his words, "as far away as I can get."

I like him a lot--he's thoughtful, softspoken, a good writer--and terribly unsure of himself. After an introductory talk on Tragedy in which I mentioned Aristotle, Aeschylus, Sophocles, Citizen Kane, Gatsby, etc., he came in wanting to drop because he hasn't "read enough." I told him all that stuff wasn't necessary, that it was just an attempt to show context and definitions, but he wanted to focus his energy on other classes. From a disinterested perspective, I couldn't help but agree, seeing as he is planning to transfer anyway.

As he left, he asked for a 'reading list.' I said to start with Plato. If I'd had my wits about me, I'd have also echoed the best thing the late Prof. Kirkpatrick said in his 172 class at UNC: "read your Bible." He is a good student; I'm sad to see him go.

OK, there's Bowdlerizing, then there's. . .

this.

Unintentionally hilarious, perhaps, or a sign of the apocalypse. Your call.

Perhaps NOW we can move on??

The Washington Post on the whole Karr business. We happened to have the TV on when the story broke a couple of weeks ago. Good Morning America was breathlessly flogging the story even while battles raged from the Congo to the Sudan to Iraq, Gaza, Lebanon, and Israel. I remember thinking, "is there nothing else going on, that we need to talk about this for hours of airtime?"

BTW, I have to give credit to W, who said from the beginning that the guy was a fraud.

Technology! We gots technology!

In my 11:00 classroom, we have the following (in addition to desks, whiteboard, etc.):

• One television
• Two LCD projectors
• Two desktop computers
• Three VCRs
• Two DVD players
• Two overhead projectors
• approx. 3.5 miles of cords & cables
• Three remotes
• Three computer mice

But I'm not sure any of it works.

Godspeed!

I know it's the first day of class here--I'm fifteen minutes away from my first batch of first-year students. To all my academic friends: may your lectures be inspiring, uplifting, and short!

"Suddenly / He's not half the meow he used to be"

Simon got The Operation yesterday. We brought him home and he staggered around with droopy eyes for a while, but he seems to be recovering fine. Sidney hopes it calms him down just a hair or two.

Fetch

I laughed out loud. Make sure you have time and bandwidth; this one's a bit long.

(click the link in the post title)

Life with a Toddler, Vol. 12

Yesterday evening, after choir practice, W takes The Little Boy into the church auditorium because he wanted to "see the big room." They look up at the front, where the organ and baptistry are, and see two paintings: one of Christ's baptism at the River Jordan, one of the Last Supper. W points out the figure of Jesus and the disciples, whereupon The Little Boy announces,

"They're hungry!"

Soybean Festival Update 1

Okay, looking at the schedule for the Tennessee Soybean Festival, I see the concert lineup:

1. The Peacemakers (a gospel group)
2. The Radio Daze Big Band
3. 38 Special
4. Diamond Rio (don't laugh. . . remember where we are!)
5. The Spin Doctors

Spin Doctors???

CR-V

We are now outright owners of our automobile.

That is all.

Llama Llama

Warning: sound down!

Llama!

Fall Faculty Meeting

Just got out of our morning meeting, in which the chancellor of our institution made some remarks including this : "higher education faces a battle for relevance."

Serious question: in what way is this happening? Is it really true that higher education is increasingly seen as irrelevant to regular folks?

Life with a Toddler, Vol. 11

Recent phrases learned and used:

"Daddy missed you"
"Grocery store"
"teetee potty"
"sweet dreams"
"see you soon when I wake up"
"momee, where are you?"
"what's wrong?"
"it's okaaaaay, you're fine"
"she come back in a minute"
"mommy runnin, daddy workin"

One of the best parts of each day is hearing him come out with a brand new phrase that we had no idea he knew. Needless to say, the chatter doesn't really stop.

Life with a Toddler, Vol. 10

Do you think they're in heaven, or what?

Walkin' on eggshells?

Two interesting moments during our department meeting (that's pre-migraine, last week):

First, when one of my colleagues had a slip of the ol' tongue. See, we recently installed a dual-track major with a 'writing concentration' and a 'literature concentration.' Now, our department is heavy in faculty whose primary job is writing instruction at introductory and advanced levels. And this is an ag school, so a tech writing focus would be a helpful thing. However, there's the matter of what the slip might signify. After one discussion period, someone referred in passing to "determining an identity for the writing program." Our department chair, always careful about language, said, "um, let's be careful. It's not a separate program or even a separate major." "Well," I thought, "perhaps not formally, but perhaps in the minds of some interested parties?"

Second, approaching a delicate subject. Toward the end of the meeting, our chair mentions that some female instructors have been having trouble with some foreign students who hail from a culture that doesn't quite appreciate women in positions of authority. She uses this as a chance to review procedures for unruly, intractable, or threatening students. I watched as several people twitched uncomfortably, especially when our chair stated bluntly that the students in question were from "the middle east." She went on to say that "if they're going to learn to live here, they need to learn to accept that sometimes women are in charge in this country," or words to that effect. So, if any student causes trouble, we should do such-and-such. Someone across the room felt obligated to murmur something about protecting these said students from other students (i.e., white, latino, african-american). It was interesting to see the discomfort percolate around the room, as if to touch on the fact that some of these young muslim men are -gasp!- misogynist and evidently belligerent at times were either wrong or distasteful to bring up.

Which makes me wonder: assuming that we're all trying to be fair, tolerant, and professional, is there a right way to bring things like this up? Why were some folks uncomfortable with the straightforward association of these students with "The Middle East" and "Islam"?

And, how is it that young men from Saudi Arabia, Syria, and Lebanon find their way out here? (And from China, for that matter--we've got a larger international student population than you'd think.)

Ninoy

Today is "Ninoy Aquino Day" in the Philippines, a holiday dedicated to one of the most important political figures in modern Philippine history. We were in the Philippines when he was assassinated (it's still not quite clear by whose trigger finger), though we were in Atlanta when the resulting People Power Revolution occurred in 1986. He was an enormously popular figure--I remember the street protests that took place in 84 and 85, as Ninoy's martyrdom sparked popular resistance to the Marcos regime (yeah, it was his wife with all the shoes).

Twenty years ago. . . doesn't seem possible that much time has gone by. I know that for most of us, the whole Ninoy/Marcos/People Power thing was a minor sidenote--but it's important for me to remember. I still feel a strong tie to that country.

To atone for the Previous Picture

Here's a shot from my brother's back porch at their new house. Things aren't all bad where they are.

Only in Texas

One of the pictures W brought back. I have no comment.

Laid Low

I've just had 36 hours of the worst headache I've ever had in my entire life. I've read about migraine headaches and the fact that they're debilitating, but I didn't really 'appreciate' it until this morning, when I couldn't even get out of bed.

Went to the doctor, got a shot, feel better--by which I mean that I'm not completely incapacitated.

Big News

The new Super Wal-Mart opened today, just down the street from the old Wal-Mart. I don't know how y'all feel about Wal-Mart, but if we're going to have one (and we are, no question), at least it's a nice one.

Hey! Maybe the Rural King can move from the old old Wal-Mart to the new old Wal-Mart! That way, it'll be a whooole lot closer to where I live, and I can stock up on this!

Life with a Toddler, Vol 9

Today is the day that I consider myself "back in school" for the new year--classes don't start until the end of the month, but you know the deal with faculty and grad students: we don't really get time off.

Anyway, W and The Little Boy were kind enough to drive me to school today, since I had two armloads of stuff to bring to my office. Once we pulled into the parking lot, he excitedly asked to go see my office. When we told him that I had to go to work and they were going home, his face completely fell and he murmured, "okay."

After not seeing him for five days? The way his face fell nearly slayed me then & there. I now realize that he'll know when I'm not around this year (and that's likely to be quite a bit). Dangit.

Special preview: "Life with a Toddler, Vol 10" coming soon. Featuring: tractors!

Blakbuzzrd will be happy to hear this.

Coffee as health drink. No, really.

Fun fact:

In another analysis, published in July in the same journal, researchers found that a typical serving of coffee contains more antioxidants than typical servings of grape juice, blueberries, raspberries and oranges.

Solitude done!

Happy to report that W and The Little Boy made it home just fine. Once more, the house is full of noise (not from me blaring music, that is).

Movie Report

During my period of solitude, I watched a few movies that the other members of my family aren't that interested in seeing. Here are thoughts on what I saw:

• Magnificent Seven: Sure enough, they got as much of the Kurosawa movie in there as they could. The hardest obstacle to overcome (and they didn't manage to overcome it) is that in the Japanese film, the Samurai are actually a separate class--when characters in the movie talk about "farmers" and "samurai," they are talking about hereditary castes. Gunslingers don't quite carry the same weight of status. Loved watching Yul Brenner and Steve McQueen, though--current 'tough guys' like Tom Cruise don't even come close to matching up.
  
• Kill Bill, Vols 1 & 2: The thing about Uma Thurman is that her appearance and her voice don't match up like you think they would. You expect to hear something that corresponds to her exotic-looking face. Anyway, I don't know what the critics said about the movie(s), but I enjoyed the self-consciousness of the storytelling--especially the sequence involving Beatrix' visit to that chinese master. And of course there's the violence and gore.
• Dr. Strangelove: I knew that Peter Sellers plays several roles in the movie, and I spotted him in his two obvious roles, but that he plays the president as well--that's a piece of acting. That said, I'm not used to "Kubrick" and "comedy" being used in the same sentence.
  

Nobody Gets a Smooth Ride

Nobody gets a smooth ride…
Every child will learn
How the asphalt burns
When he takes a sharp turn too wide
Nobody gets a smooth ride

I’m really sorry the way things are going these days
Try to be careful that’s all I can say
I’m really sorry the waythings are going

(T. Chandler, S. Hindalong)

Problems in McKenzie

Well, I visited my brother and sister-in-law in McKenzie on Friday--there was a variety show being put on by the students in the program my brother is helping lead. Some acts were out of sight: there was a jazz band piece that brought the house down; a bluegrass quartet did beautifully; a smoove R&B number; and a cover of the Eagles' "Already Gone." Then there were the other acts: a cover-your-eyes rendition of "These Boots Were Made for Walkin'," a deafening and screechy version of "His Eye is on the Sparrow," and a number from Grease that would curl your hair. Still, everyone was supportive, and the good numbers really overshadowed the bad ones.

Behind all this, however: R (my sister in law) has a job in the "business office," i.e., the department responsible for all finances, etc., and has come to find out that the college has multiple creditors that haven't been paid for upwards of six months. She isn't able to process payments, but she's now getting the phone calls--because the lady responsible for accounts payable just won't answer the phone or even check her voice mail. Meanwhile, B is finding that the program he's involved in is pretty much hated by everyone else on faculty and staff--particularly the one (that's "1") theater professor. Meanwhile, there's a lady in the administration building that likes to feed stray cats--in the building. Decisions made at the highest administrative levels, for instance that B should be able to have access to the university's theater facilities, scene shop, costume shop, etc., are not communicated to the persons actually responsible for carrying them out.

I could go on. Point being, I'm more than a little concerned that what we were seeing as a great opportunity is actually a trap.

Archaeology, Diplomacy, Pedagogy

Blakbuzzrd asks an interesting question about education in reference to "covering the known" (diplomacy) and "uncovering the unknown" (archaeology)--where does the teacher's job fit?

I immediately thought of Plato, and his contention that education is primarily a calling forth of knowledge that is already inherently there. Certainly, I think that the largest part of my job is not necessarily to impart new information, but instead to help the students connect and reconceive of the things they already know. And from my perspective as the instructor, I find that much of the intellectual work that I do as instructor involves 'covering the known,' i.e., reviewing and refining the things I already know.

Perhaps some of this is discipline-specific, at least as far as things like English and History and Philosophy can be called disciplines? Certainly, I don't think that a biology or physics professor would see the teaching process the same way. So much for answer #1. . . I'm still chewing on this one.

In which Piers reverts to his natural hermit state

W and The Little Boy are off to visit relatives in Texas . . . so for the next few days I am on my own here, with only my little bike for transportation. I plan to do some yard work, watch a few movies, read a bunch. I don't mind being by myself for a few days, but it is strange to be in this house without them.

So you've heard about all that fauxtography?

If the surrounding situation wasn't so unremittingly awful and tragic for workaday Israelis and Lebanese, and yet another example of absolute journalistic incompetence, these recent "gotchas" would be pure comedy. As it is, this one is still pretty dang funny:



















I know Time said it was a downed jet, but look closely--dude's guarding a tire fire!! Springfield ain't got nothing on USNews!

Plus, doesn't Sir "Terrorist Chic" Hezbolla (Hizb'ulaa? Hizbullah? Hiz'ballah?) remind you of someone? Check this out:









Absurdity like this makes Democritus' response the only sane one.

What a Haul!

The big-time perk of this job: I just got a box of books from Penguin, my free exam copies for this term:

The Portable Dante

The Italian Renaissance Reader

The Viking Portable Renaissance Reader

The Reformation: A History

Hopefully, I'll get to use these books to propose a course on the Italian and Continental Renaissance. In the meantime, I'll like having them as reading material and resources as I continue to fill gaps in my education.

Stop what you're doing.

And go directly here.

(No, it's not manamana).

On my Summer Vacation, I . . .

. . . didn't do 'enough.' But then, when would it ever be 'enough?' I worked like a dog this summer, and that's not counting the yardwork (speaking of which, we have a *$^&@#%@@# mole tearing up the garden around the rose bushes! Blast!). Now, I'm wishing I had taken more time off to enjoy W and The Little Boy, to take long naps, etc.

That all comes to mind after reading this, featuring a lesson I've still to learn.

The War of the End of the World

You'll recall that this is one of my two "fun books" right now. . . I'm about to finish it, and I'll just say that it's not a book to read if you're feeling grim about the human condition. I knew it was a novelization of some real events, but I didn't really know how horrible those events were. It's basically the story of a run-up to an absolute massacre.

From a strictly literary standpoint, I was happy to see that MVL uses his very effective "telling the story" technique in the latter third of the book--i.e., we have a figure telling the story in the present, and large parts of the story are told as if being recited from memory. Of course, since memory is faulty and subjective, the coloring of the story changes, and that's where the horrible truth meets artful storytelling.

Being Good Neighbors

A few months ago, the couple next door moved into their new house--it's just on the other side of our driveway, which has kinda messed up the view from the garage, but what can you do? They are Indian--he manages the Days Inn here in town, and they own a couple of convenience stores nearby. They have two children; the eight-year old girl has taken a liking to W & J, but the three-year-old boy terrifies J, so that makes playtime (when they come over) a little bit of a challenge. Still, we're trying to be good neighbors, as are they--recently we were the recipients of some okra and eggplant from their garden.

On Friday, they come over and invite us to a "prayer" for their house--evidently some kind of Hindu ceremony meant to impart blessing on the abode. Well, we figured it would be a good idea to make an appearance, seeing as we live right next door and we sure weren't going anywhere else on Saturday. W was concerned that we might offend or do something wrong, but we decided to make the best of it. So we get dressed at about 3:00 and head over there. I lead Jonathan to the back yard, where there are lots of kids playing, and W goes to the front door and rings the doorbell. In the middle of their prayer. She gets directed to the side entrance, and creeps in only to find about 50 women sitting on the floor in the midst of the ceremony.

So, all of her concern about doing something wrong? Good to get it out of the way first thing!

After about an hour or so, they pass around some food, and the hostess thanks W for coming. W says, "oh, we're planning on sticking around," and the response is, "oh? okaaay." Which gave W the impression that there wasn't anything else for us to be doing so we needed to go on home (all this time I've been playing with J in the back yard, talking with some of the other kids). We had changed clothes, I was putting water on to boil for dinner, and who should we see but our neighbor, at the front door. "You didn't want to stay for some indian food?" Well, of course we did, but we were just a little confused about what exactly was going on. So, back on with the party clothes and back over for some awfully good food. A lot of the guests were bemused at the way we dug in, asking if we really liked it. I would have answered, but my mouth was full.

Our Long National Nightmare is over. . .

. . . because tonight, the NFL preseason starts.

From the garden

It's not a lot, but this is our first shot at growing our own
vegetables. It's fulfilling to eat stuff that you've worked on
and grown with your own hands. Actually, my favorite part about
being out there is the smell of the basil, the tomato plants, the dirt
they're planted in. Just let me say, too, that bell peppers out
of the garden are 100% tastier than the strip-mined kind you get at
your local Harris Teeter. That said, I wish we had a Harris Teeter. . .

I like Legos too, but wow.

Van Gogh's "Starry Night."  That's what I call dedication.  And this is why the Interwebs is soooo cool.  This and YouTube, where I recently found two of my favorite Sesame Street sketches of all time:  The Martians and the phone, and the "Some and None" skit with Bip Bippadotta.

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Harvey, Nashe, Lyly, Greene, Martin, Marston, Guilpin

Been reading a lot of scurrilous prose and poetry this week. How scurrilous, you ask? Here's a brief sample:

Needs he must cast up certain crude humours of English hexameter verses that lay upon his stomach; a nobleman stood in his way as he was vomiting, and from top to toe he all-to-bewrayed him with Tuscanism.

That's Nashe on Gabriel Harvey. And they bemoan lack of civility these days! Ha! Anyway, loads more in that vein. Harvey and Nashe lay it on by the cartload.

Clear Direction, part 2

The UT system president swung by campus yesterday chock-full of news about his "Strategic Plan." The press release is here (warning: pr and bureaucrat-heavy language).

Here's one of the key items:

Among plan goals being considered, Petersen discussed raising the number of high school graduates entering college in Tennessee from the current 35 to 60 percent. Once in college, the graduation rate for students who enter and graduate from a single UT campus could rise from 51 to 65 percent.

Wow. Lots to ponder about there. Like, where the heck are we going to put all those students, who will be teaching them, and who'll be paying the tuition? Better start buying those lottery tickets!

I jest because I care. The proof will be in the specific mandates coming from what is necessarily an overly-general strategy.

Is it too late to crawl back into bed?

You know how sometimes you can just feel a black mood getting ready to jump out and take a lead pipe to your knee? Well, that's what's happening around here. A situation not helped at all, I might add, by the items on my Google homepage this morning:


check, please.

Aha! Nothing Like Clear Direction

From our in-house newsletter:

"More students who finish their degrees, research that sparks economic development and programs that reach across the state and around the world are the targets of a strategic plan being introduced this week by University of Tennessee President [name removed by Piers for lack-of-tenure reasons].

(snip)

"A year in the making, the plan is organized into three mission-oriented focus areas: student access and success; research and economic development; and outreach and globalization. Benchmarks have been set for several defining elements of each focus area, and yearly goals, both external and internal, are being set through 2012. Internal benchmarks and goals are intended to enable the mission targeted by external goals."

Wow. You could come up with wording like this in fifteen minutes at a sports bar. Is there a class of university bureaucrat whose job it is to generate boilerplate like this? I know, I know, I'm being unfair. This is just a newsletter blurb; more details are forthcoming, and all that.

But hey, while I'm on a roll, more unfairness: note the lack of faculty development. And I wonder, is the boneheaded "merit pay" scheme part of this strategic plan?

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Hey!

Manamana!

Life with a Toddler, Vol. 8

Heard recently around our house:

• "We don't climb on top of the table."
• "Please take your finger out of your diaper."
• "Don't put your finger in kitty's nose."
• "No, we don't eat kitty's food."
• "I'm not sure kitty likes it when you pick him up by the tail."
  

The Little Boy's Ultra-Luxo swimming pool

Ready, set. . .



wheee

Simon

He's not quite dignified yet--



But he is a sweet boy.

Pig Pickin Phase 1 Complete

We picked up a load of concrete blocks today, since Papa is in town with his pickup truck ("pick up" with a "pickup," get it?). This means that the first phase of our NC Barbecue invasion has been set in motion! Phases left: rebar, chicken wire, charcoal, pig. We'll keep you updated as events warrant

Test to see if you think like a West Tennessean

If you needed to transport a four-drawer filing cabinet and a car engine down the street and around the corner, what means might you use?

a) Ford F-150
b) wheelbarrow
c) transporter (a-la Star Trek)
d) Ford Tempo
e) John Deere backhoe

We saw proof tonight: the answer to the above question is "e."

This Month's Reading

More ambitious material (at least for me it is. . . some of my readers might be able to toss one of these off in a weekend, but not me):

First, The Tale of Genji, another fix for my obsession with Japanese culture, art, etc. I'm not all that far along, and I'm having some trouble with names, etc., but I can say that I am amazed by the aestheticism of Heian culture--apparently all things are done in this world for artistic effect, and responses are usually hyperbolic (weeping, fainting, etc).




Next, Mario Vargas Llosa's The War of the End of the World, a novel that shows up more clearly than any other his interest in apocalyptic/utopian strains of thought (an idea quite clear in his latest, The Way to Paradise). I wish my paperback copy had as cool a cover as this one; mine looks like some 1970's adventure film. Reading about Brazil right after being immersed in Borges' Argentina is a little disorienting, but I enjoy the epic scope of this novel.


Also, and the Buzzard will be glad to know I've finally gotten to it, I'm watching the second half of Kurosawa's Seven Samurai tonight after choir practice. So far, I'm pretty sure I'd go into battle following Kambei Shimada (played by Takashi Shimura). I know that Toshiro Mifune is usually seen as the big dog in Kurosawa's films, but I'm not thrilled with his character. . . yet. I preferred him in Red Beard and in Yojimbo. But like I said, I still have half the film to go.

'That 70's Show' + Memphis News =

The print edition of today's Memphis Commercial Appeal has a headline straight from That 70's Show (a sitcom I love, BTW):

"Heavy on the Oregano, please"

Must not have been a popular joke--the online version of the story goes with the much more straightforward headline. Too bad.

Come on out; the weather is fine

We got an all-too-rare treat this past weekend; our beautiful and brilliant friends from Chicago, RS and SWS, came down for their first visit to our corner of West Tennessee.

We had a lovely time--lots of conversation, lots of grilled food and quaffables. We here at Luigi's Mansion really enjoyed being able to share some of our space and some rural quiet. And the weather on Saturday could not have been better--cool, breezy, and no humidity. It was also fun to take them around, show them the campus, the other neighborhoods in town, the Rural King. Didn't make it to the DQ, though. Got to save something for next time, I guess!

One of several great moments: watching The Little Boy and S spin around in the back yard, then seeing them both collapse in laughter in the grass (well, technically Lespedeza, but in our backyard, if it's green, it counts as grass!).

Thanks for coming, R & S. Sidney says he'll give up his room anytime you want to come again. Simon says only if there's no cuddling involved.

From the Inbox

Now this is what I call a broad scope. On the other hand, it has the advantage of being in Wales:

CONFERENCE TITLE: "fragment, cultural histories and vocabularies of the
fragment in text and image c. 1300-2000"

3 day Interdisciplinary Conference, hosted by Department of English, and
Institute for Medieval & Early Modern Studies, University of Wales,
Aberystwyth, UK

500 word abstracts for discussion papers, creative workshops,
performances/installations by 16th December 2006

Themes might include: making/unmaking, text/intertext, pastiche bricolage,
narratology and poetics, embodiment, artefacts, figments,
interdisciplinarity, memory and remembrance, archaeologies of meaning,
remnants/remainders

Selected papers to be published by Manchester University Press

university of wales, aberystwyth

What, no Ancient Greeks?

An essay for my fellow eggheads

On the difference between what attracted us to capital "E" English and what the reality is on the other side of postgraduate education. link.

Key phrase: "English is, among my undergraduates at least, one of the last refuges of the classical notion of a liberal-arts education."

That's what it is for me, too, which may be why I find it so fulfilling. Granted, I'm also at an institution where there aren't quite so many other pressures. In fact, the state of the profession that "Prof. Benton" decries is actually far from my experience, and I often wonder at the repeated complaints along this line--i.e., to get a Ph.D. in English, you have to destroy your love for the literature. Has my experience been so different from other people's? Have I been that naive? Is it that I studied where I did, under whom I did? Is it just that I'm out of the "big time" and satisfied to be on the sidelines?

anyone else have thoughts?

On Campus, Summer 2006

Here's the quad, from the front of our building on campus.




Now, here's the view from my office window.

Weekend Yard Report

With the mower fixed, and a weekend free from other responsibilities, we hit it. Mowing: check. Weed whacking: check, and still in progress. Edging: ditto. Weed & Feed for back yard: check. Watering: check. Transplanting seven bushes, including a Crepe Myrle: check. Pruning rosebush: check. Removing diseased and unsalvageable shrub: check. Obsessing over and manually pulling massive patches of Virginia Buttonweed in front and back yards: check (did this last item actually make a difference? Of course not!)

Sweat, dirt, and ticks: check, check, check!

Life with a Toddler, Vol 7 (UPDATED)

This weekend, The Little Boy decided that he would experiment with the potty. We've had one sitting in the bathroom for a couple of months now, and he has been willing to sit on it--while the lid is closed and while he's got pants on. But for some reason, on Saturday he decided that it was time to sit on it to use it. We had several false alarms, including once where he leaked all over the bathroom and then in his bedroom.

But this morning--huzzah! three cheers! He sat and produced! (number one only; number two is a whole 'nother ballgame, I'm sure) Looks like our approach of letting him take his time is bearing fruit. He doesn't like to be pushed into doing things.

Wonder where he gets that from?

UPDATE: Four times today.

Well, that settles it, don't it?

I'd write about my agreements and disagreements with this article, because I found it both interesting and perplexing, but evidently to do so would be to fall into the trap of questioning Professor Balmer's "evangelical credentials." In fact, note from the very first that he inoculates himself against disagreement by using the Galactic Emperor defense: I have forseen it!!

Wehell then.

I was glad to note, though, that he has full assurance that there's still time for James Dobson--even The James Dobson!--to be redeemed. How charitable of him.

For the record, I'm sure Jesus is not a Republican. Or a Democrat or a member of the Green Party or the Netroots or the Libertarian Party or the John Birch Society. Or even--*gasp*--a citizen of the 21st century! In fact, I'm fairly certain he wouldn't have voted for any of our current officials, since his last recorded physical act on this planet was during the Pax Romana.

In which Piers gets More Information than he wants

Sitting in my office on a late afternoon this week, door open. Student walks into the office suite, moans that a colleague's door is closed. "Hey," he says, "do you know when Dr. _____ will be in?"

He said he would be back on Friday.

"Really? Because I need to talk to him about a grade."

. . .

"I got two A's and three B's in his class, and he gave me a B, so I need to see if I can work something out."

. . .

"I'd like to have an A in the class, y'know."

. . .

"So I just want to talk to him. If I can't, that's okay, but I'd just like to talk to him."

. . .

"Did you say he would be back on Friday?"

He said he would be back on Friday.

"I'll just come back then."

Sounds like a good idea.

Our new foe

Dioda virginiana L., or Virginia buttonweed. Hate it, hate it, hate it. There are spots in the backyard where it has killed all the grass.

The 2C rule strikes again!

My brother says that with the purchase of a house, one becomes subject to what I'm calling the 2C rule: All repairs, etc. start at $200 and work upwards in increments of 2C (i.e., 200, 400, 600, 800). Well, our mower is being returned to us this evening to the tune of . . . you guessed it . . . 2C.

Hey, cheaper than buying a new one (which would be in the 5 x 2C or 10C range)--and with all the rain we've been getting this week, it's not a moment too soon.

On the upside, the rosebush we planted earlier this year is putting out several nice yellow blooms, and we'll have some tomatoes before long.

New Pictures Up

follow the link to the latest slideshow, if you're interested:

.mac pictures

Looking to kill some time?

Those of you with video game systems or computers--ps2, xbox, gamecube, pc, mac, game boy, nintendo ds--you need to do yourself a favor and get ahold of Lego Star Wars. It is a major hit at Luigi's Mansion, our abode. W, who's not much of a video game fan (besides this game and Wario Ware), absolutely loves it: it's perfect for two players, controls are simple, the worst that happens is that your little lego person falls apart (i.e., it's basically nonviolent), and replayability is out of sight. Plus, it's legos! Who doesn't like legos?

And here's the best part: the sequel is coming out in September! You've got time to finish the first one before the second one is on the shelf at Target! Buzzard, I'm talking to you!

Two Updates

1. PowerBook now safe from malicious theft; History department chair now safe from wheedling English professor begging use of master key. They got me an office key that works. Now I can put up my priceless works of art!
2. Piers set straight on a bit of sloppy writing. In the post below, ES responds with a lengthy and pointed critique. I recognize that I got rhetorically sloppy in my initial post. I don't attribute the dishonest thinking to "most of my colleagues," as I said originally. I should have said that folks who get caught up in messes like this often use such-and-such a fraudulent defense. I don't know that many people, for one thing, and for the other, I haven't gone to school or work with more than one or two who evidence that kind of mendacity. My main point is that we professors need to be careful about the power we intentionally and unintentionally wield. Suitably chastened, I am at least glad to note that somebody is reading this stuff.
   

what profs believe

I don't know if you all are familiar with the whole Kevin Barrett business at U of Wisconsin-Madison. Essentially, this Mr. Barrett has been hired by the university as an adjuct instructor to teach a course on Islam. Part of the course will be a "week" on the "so-called 'war on terror'" (his words). He is a leading proponent of the notion that the attacks of 9/11/01 were part of an extensive government conspiracy, that the WTC towers were set off on purpose, etc.Well, it's caused an uproar in many circles. Prof. Althouse, a law professor at UW, has all the relevant background if you can stomach it.

I've got nothing to add to the discussion of whether or not 9/11 was a government 'program,' but this does remind me of a notion that's been rattling around in my brain for a bit: professors/instructors/teachers need to take seriously their position of power in the classroom. I note that many of these kinds of conflicts (see also the Crystall incident at UNC a couple of years ago) are often argued on the merits of the various arguments at play. What many of my colleagues in this profession seem to want to ignore is that their positions as graders, as evaluators of student performance, provides them with a powerful platform. It is not enough to simply aver that one "teaches all sides of the issue," or that "students needn't regurgitate what I tell them," or that "I'm just trying to start a conversation." First of all, most professors are pretty rotten at starting conversations. Second, anyone who says these things and believes them has forgotten what it's like to be 19 or 20 years old, away from home, and taking 4 or 5 classes at one time. Political content is one thing--it's to be expected. But to attempt to "defuse" purposefully incendiary course material by suggesting that students can just ignore it is plainly dishonest.

And it doesn't help matters that I've had more than one conversation where a colleague (at UNC) has told me in all seriousness that she doesn't believe the classroom is a "free speech zone." Yow.

Which makes my warning to my students particularly apt: "don't trust what your professors tell you!" They know I'm joking, but only partly.

The fly in the ointment

You know what will take the shine off of having a new office of your very own?  

When your assigned key won't open the door.

Novum Sanctum

Well, it's finally happened . . . I moved all my belongings into my new (my own!) office today. It's small, and quite institutional, but huzzah! It's my own space! First major task: find a spot for pictures of the Little Boy, then find a spot for the "joy" scroll from Blackbuzzard and Hambone.

Moving-in (mostly) done

We are happy to welcome B&R to West Tennessee. . . they finally moved into their new house this past week. We had grandparents in from out-of-town, and needless to say the Little Boy was happy to occupy as much of their time as possible. Many hands made relatively light work. I even got to help paint a room!

It's a 30-mile drive from our house to theirs; exciting to have them so close. It'll be good for the Little Boy to have Uncle B and Aunt R nearby. And I get to play Half-Life 2 on B's XBox! Yow!