Instant Irony

Anyone who spends even a bit of time with me will soon realize that I love camouflage . . . as a fashion print. I'm a peace activist so I don't have much use for the military or sport applications of the pattern. I just like the way it looks. I have a traditional camouflage jacket ($10 army surplus), several pairs of camouflage pants (urban, ultraviolet, blue tiger), and a couple camouflage bandannas. When I tuck my camouflage BDUs in my doc martens, which is not an uncommon look for me when I'm away from school, I'd like to think I'm making some kind of statement against military action. There's a bit of irony in a pacifist sporting military fashion, don't you think?

Anyway, I'd love to see the Camouflage exhibit showing at the Imperial War Museum, London. I think I need a pair of those camouflage Doc Martens. I wonder if they come in steel toe?

Is it weird that I'm fascinated by the history of modern warfare? I could watch documentaries on WWI & WWII all day. I'm particularly interested in WWII, the last conflict for which I think I could make a reasonable case for military action. Although I should add that I believe WWII could have been avoided had Hitler encountered fierce diplomatic resistance.

Weekly Reader: Coins, Cap, and Cassini

Scrap the Greenback. Why haven't folks here in the US taken to $1 coins? I think I'll buy some of these and start using them. While I rarely carry cash--I'm a debit card junky--I can certainly do my part and buy the odd cup of java with a golden John Adams. Check out how "In God we Trust" and the year are stamped on the edge of the coin. Cool.

RIP Captain America. I've been ranting about this move by Marvel for a couple weeks now. I like this author's take, though. In essence, he argues that the symbol of Captain America no longer accurately represents the ideals of our nation. Steve Rogers represents truth and justice, two values that are in short supply when it comes to US American politics. There might be a convention paper in this argument.

Surf's Up . . . On Titan! Have I ever mentioned how much I love to read about space exploration? The probability of methane/ethane lakes on Titan increases with some of the latest radar imagery. What the heck would a methane/ethane lake look like or feel like? It's mind boggling that we can discover this kind of stuff from a distance of 800,000,000 miles.

Tuck

More rants about women and comic book art. This time, the cover dissected features Black Canary, Power Girl, and the most ridiculous costume in comics. Did someone sit around one day and suddenly exclaim, "I know, I'll give Power Girl a boob window! I'm so freaking brilliant" ::draws like a sex deprived fanboy because that's the only person who could think up something that ridiculous::

Comment of the day:

Of course, I always wonder why comic book hero males will have huge muscles, inhuman proportions in all areas but one... why do we have no "baskets" on the men? I mean, for any of these poor guys to mate they'd have to be able to protrude beyond their thigh and abdominal muscles... yet it seems all superhero males wear dance belts and tuck.

Electrofying!

Normally, I make most of my comic book related commentary over at Army of Dorkness. I couldn't pass up this little gem for my personal blog--it's just too damn funny (and serious, at the same time). In an upcoming DC comics storyline Mary Marvel. the twin sister of Captain Marvel (Shazam), gets seduced to the dark side--Eclipso is supposedly involved. Anyway, cover art for her turn to the dark side has hit the intertubes:



The traditional, modest costume is out! The could-it-be-any-shorter skirt, combined with what appears to be curve hugging latex, is in. Thank goodness for that latex, though, as it might insulate her breasts enough to avoid any kind of serious electrical burn. The image kicked off a number of discussions on various comic related blogs. If you check out the links, make sure you read the comments.

Seriously, why is it that when a male character gets turned to the dark side, goes all evil, or just plain nuts, he goes about trying to destroy the world. When a female character turns to the dark side, goes all evil, or just plain nuts, she goes about getting all sexy. And then, when she tires of all the boy toys, decides to see if she can destroy the world. It's like evil just unleashes the inner nympho hiding deep inside every woman.

One of the posters at one diverse comic book nation had the comment of the day:

#19. Sleestak | March 18th, 2007 at 10:11 am
Comic books needs more smexy art of wimmin getting hit in the rack by lightnings.

Excellent post. Excellent pop culturey name, too. Loved those sleestaks when I was a kid.

If you can't tell, this is one of the things about comics that really irks me. I love comic books but can't stand the way most women are drawn or characterized. Can you imagine Superman, Batman, or Green Lantern wearing a banana hammock?

Frustration

Cortizone, two months of rest, a full month of rehab, a new pair of motion control shoes, and I finally returned to running a couple weeks back. I started with 20 minutes every other day and, following the ten percent increase rule, went to a whopping 22 minutes this week. According to the plan, I increase to 25 minutes tomorrow. Except for one problem: the pain is back, almost to previous levels. Drat.

I'll give my podiatrist and physical therapist a call tomorrow. X-ray and MRI show no evidence of serious damage; the ankle is structurally sound, but I have a severe overpronation problem that puts wicked stress on the joint, in general, and the post-tibial tendon, more specifically. I also have a very small bone spur, small enough that the podiatrist doesn't think it's causing any of the problem. The dilemma: do I continue to follow through with a more conservative treatment (more PT, custom orthotics, etc.) or should I bite the bullet and go for a more aggressive diagnosis/treatment (arthroscopic surgery)? The conservative route may, or may not, put an end to my trouble. Ankle arthroscopy would allow the podiatrist to clean out the joint, remove as many "floaters" as possible (all joints have small amounts of bone, tendon, ligament floating around and if these floaters work themselves into a sensitive area you wind up with ankle pain), and take a closer look at the interior workings of my ankle. The conservative therapies could be pursued during my recovery, obviously. So, do I take it slow and see what happens or take the leap and submit to the knife? I should also note that the surgical solution does not guarantee a cessation of pain.

If I'm reading their respective tones correctly, my podiatrist thinks we should go in there, clean out the joint, and get into recovery phase; my physical therapist thinks we should pursue all non-invasive avenues before resorting to surgery. Either way, I'm not getting back into the regular running groove anytime soon.

I cannot begin to express how frustrating this entire situation has become. Running is a meditative practice for me and is an integral dimension of my sobriety and general mental wellbeing. Swimming, biking, elliptical machining don't produce the same meditative space. They're all good exercise alternatives but they don't do the same thing in terms of mental wellness.

I keep reminding myself that even this kind of suffering is temporary, that there is a solution out there somewhere.

Suffering is Temporary

All the faults of our mind – our selfishness, ignorance, anger, attachment, guilt, and other disturbing thoughts – are temporary, not permanent and everlasting. And since the cause of our suffering – our disturbing thoughts and obscurations – is temporary, our suffering is also temporary.

-Lama Zopa Rinpoche, "Ultimate Healing."

Why is this so difficult to remember? In AA, there's a saying that's very similar: "Our problems, we find, are of our own making." Now, that's not to say there aren't moments when people wrong us (although I'd argue most of those wrongs are unintentional), but the way we respond to those wrongs is absolutely our responsibility. I can be pissed because someone cut me off in traffic (not that I have to worry about traffic in our town), that a student wrote a snide remark on a paper (How dare you not take me seriously! Don't you know who I am?), or that I didn't get invited to the latest gathering of the young hipsters (They think they're cooler and hipper than me?! Wait, I wouldn't attend anyway. I don't drink and don't enjoy socializing with the buzzed and beautiful). Or, I can choose to let all of that stuff go. It's the way I interpret and react to these events that's the problem, not the events (or people) themselves.

Odd that I should feel motivated to write about this today--there's really nothing irritating me at the moment.

39

Slept late, cleaned bathrooms, did a little school work, took a nap, took a walk with STK & TLO, watched the Nuggets win a game going away, had a nice dinner with friends, and ate copious amounts of dark chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting. Oh, and plenty of ice cream. Not bad for a birthday, I'd say. A low key affair surrounded by the people I care about most. That's the way I like 'em.


For the record, I still feel like I'm 29 (and I think I act 19 now and again).

Children's Literature

I had a friend, who also happens to be a parent, send me the following via email. Twisted, but good. I've actually mumbled #s 9 & 25 under my breath.*

Little Golden Children's Books That Never Made It

1. You Are Different and That's Bad
2. The Boy Who Died From Eating All His Vegetables
3. Dad's New Wife Robert
4. Fun Four-letter Words to Know and Share
5. Kathy Was So Bad Her Mom Stopped Loving Her
6. Curious George and the High-Voltage Fence
7. All Cats Go to Hell
8. Some Kittens Can Fly
9. That's It, I'm Putting You Up for Adoption
10. Grandpa Gets a Casket
11. The Magic World Inside the Abandoned Refrigerator
12. Garfield Gets Feline Leukemia
13. The Pop-Up Book of Human Anatomy
14. Strangers Have the Best Candy
15. Whining, Kicking and Crying to Get Your Way
16. You Were an Accident
17. Things Rich Kids Have, But You Never Will
18. Pop! Goes The Hamster...And Other Great Microwave Games
19. The Man in the Moon Is Actually Satan
20. Your Nightmares Are Real
21. Where Would You Like to Be Buried?
22. Eggs, Toilet Paper, and Your School
23. Why Can't Mr. Fork and Ms. Electrical Outlet Be Friends?
24. Places Where Mommy and Daddy Hide Neat Things
25. Daddy Drinks Because You Cry

*Okay, I mumbled a modified version of #25: "Kid, your crying is going to drive me to drink. That's bad. Very bad. Trust me on this."

The Feast

Friday Feast: One Hundred & Thirty Three

Appetizer--What does the color pink make you think of?
Hmmmm . . . Legally Blonde? A cute, underappreciated movie.

Soup--Name something you thought you had lost, but later found.
Sanity. Seriously. Circa 2002.

Salad--In 3 words, describe this past week.
Snowy. Good reading.

Main Course--What are you obsessed with?
Coffee, Star Wars, Iron Man, Green Lantern, Six Feet Under, blog reading, email checking, STK, running (when healthy).

Dessert--What kind of perfume or cologne do you like to wear?
Fahrenheit, Bulgari, Lolita Lempicka, Silver, Sensual Amber

Will the Real Gwen Please Stand Up

A sign that there may be a divine presence in the universe?

Gwen Confirms New No Doubt Album

::pulls out bullhorn::
Gwen Stefani, please step away from the solo career. I repeat, please step away from the solo career. Drop the divaness, return to your band mates, and produce another album of skapoprock goodness. You've done enough damage.

Boba Yawn?

Please tell me Lucas can up with something better than Young Boba Fett for the new Star Wars live action show. Am I the only Star Wars fan who finds the whole bounty hunter thing boring? Seriously, what's the attraction to Boba Fett? The guy appears in what, 15 minutes of the original trilogy?*

I think my anthology idea is way better than what I fear will be Bounty Hunter Fest 2009. The series will reportedly run 100 episodes spanning Episodes III & IV. If I were putting together this series, I do something like this. The series starts out with a Jedi on the run from the Imperials, follows her around for a couple episodes, and, when her story concludes (she dies, goes underground, whatever), the story refocuses on another character who had some sort interaction with the Jedi. The interaction may have been significant (helping the Jedi while on the run) or maybe not (a character simply walking by as the Jedi renounces the Order and fades into the masses of a crowded space port). A few episodes later, another shift occurs. Perhaps another arc could follow the life of a particular clone, er, stormtrooper. I'm even be up for a Young Boba Fett arc (please keep it short). The idea is that the story is continuing, shifting, and evolving. At some time or another, maybe a couple of the characters featured in earlier arcs cross paths again. In the end, the series would be comprised of a series of three, five, ten episode story arcs. Heck, a one episode stand alone would even work.

I should so be in on the development of this new series.

*Jango Fett, BTW, is way cooler than Boba Fett.

Speak Up

*Since Thursday, I've been unable to hear much of anything out of my left ear. Oh, I get the Charlie Brown "mwah, mwah, mwah, mwah, mwah" but not much else. The reason? Ear infection. Can you believe it? We finally get TLO's ear infections under control and I come down with one. The pain, which subsided with the use of antibiotics, surprised me. Hammer. Nail. Eardrum. Ow. Friday evening, I was on the verge of tears despite 800 mg of ibuprofen and a heating pad. Thankfully, the pain has dropped to the point of being tolerable. I still get a bit of an ache a couple times a day, but nothing like Friday. Doc says my hearing should clear within a couple of weeks. A couple of freaking weeks? It's not like I need to listen to my students or anything.

*Plenty of snow here in the corn freezer. A thundersnowstorm rolled through Friday night--lots of lightning, thunder, and snow--and started three continuous days of snow. All told, we received 13 inches of snow and a 1/ 4 inch of ice. Boy, did that make for some great shoveling. Four hours later, I finally completed the task. Guess what's supposed to roll into town tomorrow? Another day of "wintry mix", followed by two days of snow. Wintry mix seems to be the Midwest euphemism for ice storm. Wintry mix my ass. "Wintry mess" is more like it.

*Hmmm . . . I've reported on my health and the weather. What does that say about my life? I kind of feel like my blog has become almost as boring and mundane as my life. I'm in a routine--that's not such a bad thing for me--and there seriously isn't all that much going on that's worth writing about. Oh, I know a couple of my academic friends who would respond with something like, "The everyday mundane is just as magical as any other moment in our lives." Yeah, sure. I've considered taking the blog in a more academic direction, but I'm not sure I have the time to do that kind of writing (which is agonizingly slow for me). I'm home with TLO in the mornings, at school in the afternoons, spend a handful of hours with TLO and STK, and I'm back doing school prep/grading from 10-12. As it looks like I'll be getting another significant raise this year, STK and I have talked about increasing TLO's daycare hours a bit next year. I really would like another hour or two a day to focus on school. Trying to do any work when I'm at home with TLO is absolutely futile. I can read email and that's about it.

Give Her a Break.

As much as I rip on Hollywoodland and our collective obsession with stars (and the fact that we consider anything involving a star "news"), I've been watching the Britney Spears fiasco with a great deal of interest. And sympathy, believe it or not. Clearly, this is a young woman who is having no end of difficulties. She's made some really bad decisions the last couple years of her young life. Those bad decisions, I suspect, were compounded by substance abuse.

I know that it's become fashionable in the fantasy world that is LA to check oneself in to rehab whenever a public relations makeover is needed (see Mel Gibson, Lindsay Lohan*, etc.), but I can't help but think rehab is the right move in this case. Spears' behavior has become increasingly irrational and self-destructive in the last few months. I don't care what people think of her, she's not stupid or she wouldn't have achieved her present level of success. She knows how to behave in the public eye. The recent gaffs suggest something is getting in the way of that knowledge. Nothing screws up the decision making portion of the brain like a few mind altering substances. According the most recent of reports, Spears has entered rehab for the third time in four days. As someone who entered recovery at 25--Spears is 24--I hope she sticks it out this time. I really do.

So, let's give her a break. Give her the opportunity to get herself straightened out, or at least dried out, and see what she does. I can't even begin to imagine what it would have been like trying to get clean and sober with every reporter on the planet trying to get the "scoop." It's hard enough getting sober without that kind of scrutiny.

Britney, if you happen to stumble across my blog, here's my first piece of sober wisdom: If you don't drink or drug, you don't get drunk or high.

*In the spirit of fairness, I did read that Lohan is taking rehab seriously and has almost completed a thirty day program. Bravo! Don't forget to continue meetings when you get out. Nothing keeps you sober like watching the miserable who are still practicing. Note that I have my eye on the mess that is your life. Seriously, it's that simple. And that difficult.

McCain Goes Out on a Limb!

Rumsfeld was one of the worst.

Wow. Now there's a revelation.

If you haven't already, you should check out McCain's campaign website. Interesting color scheme. Is it just me or does the site invite the viewer to think Vietnam POW?

What's with the Trumpesque pink tie?

Curriculum Change II: Buddhist Perspective?

A monk asked, “The mountains, the rivers, and the great earth-from where did all of these things come forth?”

Tiantai said, “From where did this question come forth?”

-Zen’s Chinese Heritage

Revise the Curriculum

For several years now, many public schools have been asked to expand the biology curriculum to include intelligent design as a possible alternative to the theory of evolution. Up until today, I've been hesitant to acknowledge the possible legitimacy of intelligent design. In fact, I've been downright intolerant toward those who advocate intelligent design. Well, I've decided to do something I don't do very often: admit I'm wrong. I'm wrong. Intelligent design should be included in the biology curriculum of public schools. In fact, I'll pledge to be an advocate of intelligent design . . . provided intelligent designers agree to advocate the new curriculum I'd like to add to public school biology.

Intelligent Alien Design.

Evolution is simply a theory and I just can't get behind the idea of an omniscient presence guiding the development of life. What I can get behind, however, is the idea that we're all part of some cosmic Johnny Appleseed action. The Earth is part of an extraterrestrial science experiment, an attempt to spread diverse lifeforms throughout the galaxy.

Let's fire up those Evolution is Only a Theory campaigns and present our local school boards with the truth: Intelligent Alien Design.

Conversational Realities: Guatamole!

Scene: local mexican grill very similar to Chipotle

STK: Well, the real test will be the guatamole.
Me: The what?
STK: Guatamole. We need to try the guatamole and chips.
Me: Guatamole? WTF is that?
STK: You know, the green stuff? ::gives me the "what, are you some kind of idiot?" look::
Me: You mean guacamole?
STK: What did I say?
Me: Guatamole.
STK: Huh?
Me: Exactly. Gautemala. Gaucamole. Guatamole?
::By this time we're both laughing hysterically::
STK: I have no idea.

Americone Dream

I can't wait to try this flavor!

"I'm not afraid to say it. Dessert has a well-known liberal agenda," Colbert said in a statement. "What I hope to do with this ice cream is bring some balance back to the freezer case."

As TLO would day, "Mmmmmm."

I Need a Good Long Nap

We've spent the last four days in damage control mode around here. TLO is sick, yet again, and that means no sleep for the weary. 103.5 temp on Friday afternoon and grumpy toddler the remainder of the weekend on into today means equally grumpy parents. Although the temperature dropped back to normal by Sunday, TLO developed a nasty cough. Actually, he redeveloped the cough. He had a cough several weeks ago and it's back with a vengeance. After influenza/strep tests and a couple chest x-rays, the doctor diagnosed TLO with pneumonia.

WTF? How did that happen? With all the doctors we've been to see since September (every 2-3 weeks, no joke), you'd think we'd head something like this off before it developed, no? I guess not. So, he's on yet another freakin round of antibiotics. The good news is that his ears show no sign of infection. Great.

Someone cut this kid a break. I'm not sure how many more sick days he can take. Let me rephrase that: I'm not sure how many more sick days I can take.

To top it all off, I contracted TLO's illness and now have a rather nasty little cold of my own. I'm sure STK is happy I know how to blow/wipe my own nose.

Spamalot

The following just slipped by the old spam filter.

Godzilla's Advice!

Size does matter.
Link to Miracle Product*

I'm not sure whether I should be offended by the suggestion that I have a small package or thankful that there's a solution for my apparent problem.

*No, this isn't the actual link from the email.

Feast-o-licious

Appetizer--What was one of the fashion fads when you were a teenager?
Levi 501 Button Fly Jeans. I've been thinking about getting a new pair, actually. All trends come around in 20 year cycles, right? I've noticed that the preppy, popped collar look is coming back. WTF? That was the bane of my existence back in the 80s--I absolutely despised that look (and actually dated a prep for a short period of time. What was I thinking?!).

Soup--Name one thing you think people assume about you when they first meet you.
Freak.

Salad--On a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being highest, how hard do you work?
Teaching: 9. Researching: 4 (lots of improvement needed in this area). Yard/Home Improvement: 6.

Main Course--If you were given a free 30-second commercial during the Super Bowl to sell anything you currently own, what would you advertise?
Peace.

Dessert--Fill in the blank: I love to ________ when it is _________.
read when it is late at night and quiet in the house.

McYummy?

I just about choked on my delicious home brew when I read the following.

Consumer Reports: McDonald's Coffee Better than Starbucks

While I agree with the assessment that Starbucks java frequently tastes burnt (I'd use the term "overroasted"}, I find it hard to believe that McDonald's produces a superior cup. Given my skepticism, I've decided to conduct my own inquiry. I'll be stopping by McDonald's for a "premium roast" sometime this weekend (yes, we do have a McD's in our small hamlet).

Here's to what I hope is a pleasant surprise.

A Shot in the Dark, er, Ankle

The MRI revealed no significant soft tissue damage. My ligaments and tendons are okay. Hooray! What the MRI did reveal is a goodly amount of fluid/inflammation. The diagnosis proper: chronic synovitis. Dr. Footwork gave me a cortisone shot in the ankle joint, which is just loads of fun, to get a jump on the inflammation. For the next three weeks I'll also be doing physical therapy about every other day. The good news is that this is a very treatable injury. The bad news is that when synovitis goes untreated, it can turn into a lifetime problem.

Regardless, I'm off the ankle for a month but can ride the exercise bike as I see fit. Once the pain of the cortisone shot wears off--the injection usually results in an achy joint for a couple of days--I'll get back on the bike with a vengeance.

Try, try again

*I tweaked and resubmitted a chapter proposal concerning Battlestar Galactica and fandom's fitting response. Maybe this one will be the proposal that gets accepted. This is the third attempt at getting some love for this current line of my research. I'm bound and determined that these ideas will see print. Brilliant ideas, I tell you! Brilliant!

*I visited the MRI Mobile late Tuesday afternoon (think bookmobile but with no books, just an MRI machine) and had the ankle-o-pain magnetized. There was some concern by hospital staff that all my piercings would be a problem. The MRI tech proper: "I've been doing this for 25 years. Your piercings aren't going to be a problem. Don't take them out." Thank goodness. All the piercings have to be removed with pliers and there's always the risk that I won't be able to get them back in if the metal gets bent too much or whatever. If I lived in a big city, not a problem. I don't live in anything remotely resembling a big city. MRI mobile, remember? I tried levitating metal objects after being MRI'd, but to no avail.

*Spring semester starts tomorrow. I'm teaching three classes I could take or leave. That's an occupational hazard, I'm afraid. In order to teach the way cool stuff, you have to teach the mundane stuff. Thankfully, I rarely have a semester where all three class are "meh." This just happens to be such a semester. I'll deal.

*Already dealt with a student crisis this afternooon: homesick, tears, cry for help. I'm a good listener, when I want to be, and I'm quick with the Counseling Center's number. I'm a professor, Jim, not a therapist!

*I'm in a really yucky space mentally and have been for quite some time. STK finally called me on my shit tonight. I love my job and my family but feel like I'm adrift. Is this what life is all about? That lostness translates to frustratedness, angriness, and general unlikeableness. Dark Me ascending is never a good thing. I'm in a space where I don't like people very much. Oh, I can fake it, but I'd prefer to be holed up in my home office by myself. The fewer people I encounter, the fewer who can irritate me. I have zero tolerance for anyone and anything. Z-E-R-O. Over the years, I've acquired the tools to get myself out of this space. The question of the evening is: When will I decide to apply those tools?

Hold the Phone

Dr. Footwork called this afternoon--he met with the radiologist, they went over my films, and they decided the oddness in the image probably isn't any kind of damage. They think. So, we're back to mystery pain. The next step is an MRI, which will happen late Tuesday afternoon. I'll meet with Dr. Footwork on Wednesday to go over the results.

The Doctor . . .

w00t. w00t.

A special shout out to Dr. Elusis. She jumped through the last phlaming hoop today and PhinisheD her Ph.D.

Welcome to the club! Your super secret decoder ring is in the mail.

Fiddlesticks

Remember that nagging case of post tibial tendonitis? After four more months of decreasing activity and increasing pain--ice massage, anti-inflammatories, and rest didn't do a damn thing--I finally caved and went to a doctor. We talked about all my attempted treatments, he poked around the ankle for 2-3 minutes, and offered his thoughts.

Doc: This isn't tendonitis.
Me: Ugh! So the sports medicine folks were wrong?
Doc: I'm pretty sure. You don't flinch at all when I mess with the tendon. The pain is inside the ankle, right?
Me: Yeah. Right under here (points to place where tendon runs).
Doc: Right. But I don't think that's the source of the problem. Let's get some x-rays. If that doesn't show anything, we'll go with an MRI.

So I trudged off to the x-ray lab, had some photos taken (5 minutes total--I love living in a small community--our hospital is part of the Mayo Clinic), and returned to Dr. Footwork. He turned on the light and took a quick look at my ankle.

Doc: Hmmmm
Me: Huh?
Doc: Hmmm. Just want you want to hear when a doctor looks at your x-rays, right?
Me: Uh, sure.
Doc: There's something showing up right here. This is fairly unusual, but not unheard of. I think you've damaged the deltoid tendon. See that spot right there? That's usually a sign of damage. I'll consult with the radiologist just to get a second set of eyes, but I'm thinking that's the problem.

The deltoid tendons are the ones that, in very basic terms, connect your leg to your foot.

It looks like I've damaged the posterior deltoid--that's the one on the inner part of the ankle. The damaged area looks to be right where the tendon connects to the ankle bone. So, I've been running on a damaged tendon for months. Figures. The good news is that this isn't something terribly serious like a tumor or damaged bone structure. If the diagnosis is confirmed--I should hear something today--I'll probably have to go for an MRI to get a crystal clear picture of what's going on. After that, we're more than likely looking at arthroscopic surgery to get things cleaned up.

What was my first question to the doc after he mentioned the probability of surgery?

Me: So, will I be back on my feet and ready to run when the weather warms up?
Doc: Are you training for an event?
Me: Well, I'd like to run the local 15K in July and a half marathon in August, maybe another in October.
Doc: I don't see any reason why you couldn't be ready for a race by the end of July. You should be ready to run by April, no problem.

Good news, good news. Let's keep the fingers crossed that the doc is right. ::crosses fingers::

Supermacho!

The following email slipped through the school spam filter. Boy, am I glad it did.

Be a supermacho!

Charge your one-eyed monster for 110% and have a lifetime fiesta with Your girl

This is the one and only remedy which works flawlessly!
Ask me why? Just because it's the Original thing.

You can Order it here:
URL withheld because I don't want anyone trying to horn in on my supermacho, lifetime fiesta vibe. Go charge your one-eyed monster somewhere else, buddy.

I Knew It

When A shipped off for the Marines several months back, he assured me he wouldn't deploy to Iraq for "at least a couple years. That's what I'm being told. Two years, then I'll have to do a tour in Iraq." Well, I talked to A couple days ago--he finally arrived at his permanent post in Hawaii. He called to give me his email address, his new cell phone number, and to generally chat it up. He casually mentioned he'd be deploying to Iraq in October. Uh, what happened to a couple of years? When I asked if he's receiving any special training, he said he wasn't. Instead, they're doing physical training, physical training, and more physical training. Not just get your ass in shape training, but combat training.

I've always been opposed to war. Now that it looks like I have a son headed into harm's way in a few months, you can bet I'm doubly opposed to war. What a stupid way of accomplishing any kind of change or conflict resolution.

The Return of the Feast

Friday, January 19, 2007, Feast One Hundred & Twenty Seven

Appetizer--Which television shows do you just refuse to miss?
Battlestar Galactica, Heroes, Studio 60

Soup--Who did you last speak to on the telephone?
A, my son, called from beautiful Hawaii to let me know his new phone number, email, etc. As much as I dislike the institution as a whole, the military has been good for him. The bad: he's scheduled to head for Iraq in October.

Salad--How many pillows do you keep on your bed?
Nine. Four "regular" pillows, two body pillows, and three decorative pillows.

Main Course--Name one addition to your computer (software, hardware, etc.) that you'd love to have.
How about a new video card?

Dessert--What is your favorite foreign food?
I love most ethnic foods (I ate Afghani food last night), but Middle Eastern fare is definitely one of my favorites.

Help us Barak Obama. You're Our Only Hope

Well, it's official. Barak Obama is making a run for the Presidency. If any candidate in recent history had a chance of wooing my vote back to the Democratic party, it's Obama. We'll see if he's able to keep up all the great ideas he puts forth in The Audacity of Hope. He's smart, he relates to common folk, and is an absolutely fantastic public speaker.

Come to think of it, I might just vote for him based on his eloquence. I need some new presidential material with which to work in my rhetoric courses. Bush the Younger is just plain awful, Clinton played so many damn word games that you never knew what he was really saying, and Bush the Older was plain and uninspiring. You have to go all the way back to ravishing Ronald Reagan to find some truly excellent presidential speaking. Considering the President is the voice of a nation, 20+ years without a terrific speaker is pathetic.

Guess I'll be paying attention to the news for a while, eh?

War of the Ornaments

I'm not sure how the tradition started, but each holiday season my lovely sister-in-law sends all our family members an ornament. Somewhere along the line, she confessed to STK that picking an ornament for me was particularly challenging. Given her belief that I would reject anything other than a black ornament, I can understand the challenging nature of her quest.

This year, however, she crossed a line. Call it a shell across the bow, a thrown gauntlet, or a stick in a hornet nest, she has wakened a holiday giant that was best left sleeping. Just a few days before Yule, I received what will forever be known as the hideous cock ornament.

Have you ever seen anything more repulsive? Seriously, give it another look.

Who in their right mind designed that thing? Can anyone explain to me how this thing even remotely relates to Christmas, let alone any holiday?!

The moment I opened the box containing the Christmas Cock, the clock started ticking on my search for an even more repulsive holiday ornament. The War of the Ornaments has begun.

Ibuprofen, anyone?

Vice President Dick Cheney asserted that lawmakers' criticism will not influence Bush's plans and he dismissed any effort to "run a war by committee."

"The president is the commander in chief. He's the one who has to make these tough decisions," Cheney said.

How's that president making all the tough decisions approach been working out for ya, Dick? From where I'm sitting, war by committee has to be an improvement.

President Bush, facing opposition from both parties over his plan to send more troops to Iraq, said he has the authority to act no matter what Congress wants.

"I fully understand they could try to stop me from doing it. But I've made my decision. And we're going forward," Bush told CBS' "60 Minutes" in an interview to air Sunday night.

He is the decider, you know. This guy couldn't make a good decision if his life depended on it. We already know he can't make a good decision when other lives depend on it.

I have a headache. I need to quit reading the news for a few years.

George Bush, er, Leeroy Jenkins

Well, the President has decided that more troops will secure the cluster frak that is Baghdad. Yeah, right. Will this guy ever learn? This whole operation has been so frelling botched from the beginning that there's little or no hope of a positive outcome. The best take I've seen on the President's refusal to listen to anyone outside of his intimate little cohort, comes from Kung Fu Monkey.

Check it out.

George Bush, are you Leeroy Jenkins? Thanks to WWdN: In Exile for pointing the way to this video.

Help Wanted

A few nights back, STK and I had a dinner conversation regarding my growing discontent with students. For the most part, the students I encounter are engaging, likable people; there are a few I'd probably seek out as a friend if I were 20 years younger. My discontent has nothing to do with whether or not they're likable people, but how they treat the educational process.

I specialize in a less-than-mainstream part of my discipline: the rhetoric of popular culture. In a nutshell, I'm interested in how popular culture artifacts function as part of our public discourses regarding cultural beliefs, attitudes, values, and social conventions. One day we might address how Britney Spear's antics contribute to our cultural conversation about feminine sexuality, the next day we might address how a Godzilla film acts as a cautionary tale regarding nuclear technology. My courses aren't quite that scattershot, but you get the idea. Considering that most of us are immersed in popular culture 24/7, I believe we're influenced by the ideas we see, hear, and read. Sometimes our core values are reinforced, sometimes our core values are challenged. Nevertheless, over time we can't help but be subtly influenced. We pick up on the major debates raging across talk television/radio and talk about these things with the people we encounter. We might pick up on recent fashion trends and adjust our own dress accordingly. We see a thought provoking film and spend the next few days re-examining our own beliefs. While I don't believe popular culture is the only culture influence that can do these things, I definitely think it's a major contributor. Understanding that phenomenon seems like a worthy, and important, career path for an academic, no? Shouldn't we take some time and examine those things that contribute to the formation of our cultural attitudes and values? And it's fun, too! Yesterday, I got to spend 1.5 hours talking about the cultural significance of Spider-man.

Back to the dinner conversation. I turned to STK and said something like the following: "I love what I do. REALLY love what I do. But students just don't seem to get it. I'll show a portion of a film, stop the DVD to engage in some discussion, and students growl. They want to sit around and watch TV shows or movies all day. Getting them to discuss anything other than the basic plot is like pulling teeth. Oh, there are always a couple students who do some good critical engagement, but the vast majority just sit there like I'm talking a different language. Am I nuts to be so passionate about this? Shouldn't more people be concerned with the deep meanings conveyed by popular culture? Seriously, there's more to Harry Potter than a story about a young magician who drinks pumpkin juice and fights the forces of darkness. There's an important message in the Harry Potter narrative regarding choice; Harry chooses the path of a moral individual. From the start of the very first book, there's an underlying message regarding choice; being a moral person requires that we continually choose to be a good person. It's not as simple as just being a good person; A moral person emerges from the moral choices he or she makes. Students don't seem to care about any of that. They just want to see Harry kick Voldemort's ass.

STK paused, thought for a moment, and said, "Most people don't want to think about life that much. They just don't care. It's easier to go through life not thinking, not challenging their own thoughts and actions, and just see that stuff as entertainment. You, on the other hand, you think about everything. Should people think more? Probably."

STK's right, of course. Most people don't see popular culture as a source of serious ideas or a significant contributor to everything from sexuality to national identity. I'm a pretty engaging teacher and the students seem to enjoy our discussions of these ideas, but how many of them actually buy it? From their papers, not many. They can spit back the theories, but their analyses are usually less than critical.

What brought on all this self-reflection? A fart joke, in the classroom, directed toward Wonder Woman. Oh, and a sexual comment regarding Supergirl. I'll see if I can muster up the energy to expand in another post. ::sighs::

I love my job but there are days when I wonder if I'd be better off working in a comic book store or as a barista.

Conversational Realities

Student (comment directed toward me): I think my date wore that same vest to prom.

Briefs

*Wicked busy at school and it gets busier tomorrow.
*TLO goes in for ear tube surgery Thursday, 7:30 AM.
*I have several things I'd like to blog about, but no motivation to write. Maybe tomorrow.
*The cold weather finally descends this weekend. Teens and twenties for the foreseeable future.
*I miss my dog.
*We talked about getting a puppy right away so he or she would be ready to travel this summer. I'm not sure I'm up to the stress of training a puppy.

Farewell

I received an unexpected, but welcome, email over the weekend. A long-time friend shared his sympathies and some much needed advice. I hope he doesn't mind, but I thought I'd share a part of my response to him--I just don't think I can write another version of events without going into another fit of crying. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I'm tired of crying. For today.

As the subject of your email suggests, arrivals and departures are the way of the world. I, of all people, should be able to grasp this concept. Intellectually and spiritually, I know this is as close to a fundamental truth as I believe exists. Emotionally, change hurts no matter how much we've thought out the various processes and scenarios. Still, your email reminded me of all the things Bishop has given freely, the lessons he helped me learn and the difficulties he helped me survive.

So, I made the best of the long weekend, spent tons of time with Bishop, thanked him repeatedly for offering his unwavering love and friendship, and made him as comfortable as possible. Unfortunately, we couldn't entice him to eat and by Monday evening he wasn't drinking any water. We spent Monday night watching movies, Bishop's head in my lap. Sitting there, I realized it was the last evening I'd spend with my dog.

I'll spare you all the details but we took him to the vet this morning and had him put to sleep. I was bound and determined to save him any undue suffering. All three of us were in the room with him; I held him as he slipped away. I figure I owed him that much. Wagging his tail until the very end, he drifted off to sleep.

Despite the traumatic events of this morning, I'm feeling far better today than I did over the weekend. The anticipation of the loss was killing me. Today, I'm dealing with it. Having lost her partner six years ago, STK is amazingly wise in matters concerning loss. She's quick to remind me that we never really get over the people who leave our lives. Instead, we learn to live with the absence. Feel the pain. Cope. Get up tomorrow. Repeat.

And I'm sure that's how things will play out presently. I turned to look for Bishop several times today, my eyes welling up when I realized I wouldn't find him. I swear I saw him move through my peripheral vision earlier this evening. Tomorrow, I'll probably look for him less and the tears won't come as often. By this time next year, thinking of him will evoke more happy memories than sad (although a twinge of sadness will always accompany fond memories).

Farewell, my friend. All other dogs who enter my life, and there will undoubtedly be another one or two, will be judged by your standard.* You gave me so much. I can only hope I gave enough in return. Rest well.


*The subject of another dog came up this evening, in fact. We'll likely hold off until summer, when we're around to watch and train a puppy, but I wouldn't be surprised to see a new addition to our menagerie.

Fuck

Today has been a horrible, no good, fucking rotten day. Bishop, my companion for over 12 years, is dying. He's been reluctant to eat anything for the last couple days, so I took him to the vet this morning for blood tests. I knew when I took him what the results would be: kidney failure. He's not suffering, right now, but the not eating will start to catch up quickly. So, we'll spend a couple days coaxing him to eat, making him comfortable (which isn't really a problem--he's sleeping peacefully on the coach right now), and saying our goodbyes. I'll call the vet Tuesday morning and set the appointment. And how's Bishop handling the whole thing? He's wagging his tail non-stop, like the happy-go-lucky lab that he is. Me? I'm the human who gets far too attached to everything in his life and I've been crying for most of the day.

I can't even begin to explain how important this dog has been in my life. Maybe someday.

Have a Holly Jolly Christmas

Even though STK, TLO, and I don't celebrate Christmas proper, we still like to make it a festive day. It's hard not to view December 25 as a day that's, at the very least, out of the ordinary. The phone is ringing far more than usual as the various family members call to wish us a happy holiday (even though they know we celebrate Yule . . . huh?), the town is even more quiet than usual, and any regular television programming is usurped by holiday marathons. Who doesn't like taking a day to catch up with family, relax, and watch the Polar Express? Cute movie, by the way. We managed to come away from the holiday season with a decent haul of loot, too. Some of the highlights of our booty include:

DVD Home Theater System (A gift to ourselves--our old system died a couple weeks back.
Superman Returns and Angel: Season 3
12 Months of Kaladi Brothers Coffee
Excellent goodies from Bath and Body Works and Aveda
Multiple Barnes and Noble gift cards.

We really didn't need any of it, and we've mentioned to our respective 'rents that the focus should be on the grandkids, but they just keep sending stuff our way.

Keeping up with my tradition of taking on a home improvement job on every major holiday, I tackled the problem shower for a couple hours. Since moving into the house, the master bath shower has always been unable to produce anything more than a luke warm water flow. Obviously, something has been amiss. I took the valve apart, managed to spray water all over myself and part of the bathroom floor as the valve blew out of the sleeve (I swear I thought I had another level parts to disassemble before shutting off the water--I was wrong), and found the problem. After removing some wicked calcium deposits (yea local limestone!) and putting everything back together, I think the problem is solved. The remaining problem, one I didn't discover until I had everything torn apart and put back together several times, is a slow leak (a couple drops a minute). After closer inspection, I think the leak has been there since we moved into the house and valve sleeve has been funneling a small amount of water back into the wall. For six months. And probably for several months, maybe even years, with the previous family. Thankfully, it wasn't enough water to do anything more than make the area damp. I hope. I'll head down to the local hardware store tomorrow AM and procure the gaskets I believe will solve the problem permanently.

Exciting day, eh? Here's wishing everyone a peaceful day.

Holiday Spirit

Just so all the Christmas celebrators don't think I'm a total Scrooge, I thought I'd share recent holiday indulgences.

*STK had a Hoho Mocha at Caribou Coffee. That's a mint white chocolate mocha, more or less.

*I purchased Sarah McLachlan's Christmas album, Wintersong, a couple weeks back and have listened to it a half dozen times.

*I have attended no less than three Christmas parties and never once uttered, "I'm not Christian," "Happy Yule," or "Merry Solstice," when greeted with "Merry Christmas!" In most instances I smiled and said, "You, too." Hey, whatever you believe is your business. I just hope you have a merry time celebrating it. Where's the dessert?

*We bought a small carton of egg nog today. Great in coffee. ::slurp::

*We've already watched Rudolf and The Grinch and plan on watching A Charlie Brown Christmas, my favorite Christmas program, in the next couple days.

*I changed my blog template to reflect my festive attitude.

*I've eaten fudge, peanut brittle, & frosted sugar cookies within the last 24 hours. The cookies had a delightful red & green thing going. There may have even been a red sugar sprinkle involved.

Sins of Our Students

I read the following piece in the Chronicle of Higher Education earlier today. As The Chronicle is password protected (it's really not good enough to warrant password protection), I've copied the entire piece directly to my blog. This piece is spot on. If you want to know the mindset of most undergraduate students, here's the sad truth.

---
The 7 Deadly Sins of Students

By Thomas H. Benton
An Academic in America

I've been teaching for about 10 years now, and, of course, I was a student for 20 years before that. So I have some experience observing my students' sins, and perhaps even more experience committing them.

The sins that I see in the everyday life of the typical college student are not great ones. Most of the time, they don't seem like "sins" at all, even if one accepts the religious significance of the term. But they spring from thoughts and behaviors that, over time, become habits.

Enabled by institutions, students repeatedly take the path of least resistance, imagining they are making creative compromises with duty that express their unique talents. So they choose self-indulgence instead of self-denial and self-esteem instead of self-questioning. They do not understand that those choices will eventually cause more unhappiness than the more difficult paths they chose not to walk.

The traditional model of the "Seven Deadly Sins" provides a helpful means of categorizing -- and perhaps simplifying -- the complicated and cumulative experience I am trying to describe:

Sloth: Students often postpone required readings and assigned preparations, making it hard for them to understand their classes the next day. Gradually, lectures and discussions that were once interesting start to seem boring and irrelevant, and the temptation to skip classes becomes greater and greater, especially when the classes are in the morning. Sometimes students arrive late with -- in my opinion -- insufficient shame, closing the door behind them with a bang. Slothful students regard themselves as full of potential, and so they make a bargain: "I will be lazy now, but I will work hard later." Like St. Augustine, students say to themselves, "Let me be chaste, but not yet." More on lust later.

Greed: Students often pursue degrees not for the sake of learning itself but with the aim of getting a better-paying job, so they can buy a bigger house and fancier cars than those owned by their parents and their neighbors. That often leads to greed for grades that they have not earned. Some students cheat on exams or plagiarize their papers; others, sometimes the most diligent, harass professors into giving them grades unjustified by their performance. The goal of such cheaters and grade-grubbers is not the reality of achievement but the appearance of it. They will then apply to graduate programs or entry-level jobs that they do not really desire and for which they are not really qualified. They want to be lawyers, but they are bored by law courses. They want to be doctors, but they do not care about healing people. They want to go into business, not to provide useful products and services, but to get rich by any means necessary. And so they come to believe that no one has integrity and that there is no basis -- other than the marketplace -- by which value can be judged.

Anger: Seemingly more often than in the past, professors encounter students who are angered by challenging assignments, which they label -- with bureaucratic self-assurance -- "unfair" or even "discriminatory." When students do not succeed, they sometimes conclude that their professors are "out to get them" because of some vague prejudice. Students feel entitled to deference by professors who "work for them and should act like it." They do not come to office hours for clarification about an A-; instead, they argue that they are paying a lot of money and, therefore, deserve a high grade, and, if you don't give it to them, they will "complain to management," as if they were sending back food in a restaurant. One hears rumors of cars and homes vandalized by angry students. But, perhaps, the easiest places to find uncensored student rage are the anonymous, libelous evaluations of faculty members found online at Web sites such as RateMyProfessors.com. Often those evaluations say less about the quality of a teacher than they do about the wounded pride of coddled students. More on that topic soon.

Lust: I have seen students come to classes barefoot, with bare midriffs and shoulders, in boxer shorts, bathing suits, and other kinds of clothes that, even by fairly casual standards, are more appropriate for streetwalking than higher learning. When did liberation from uniforms transform itself into the social demand that one prepare to be ogled in the classroom? It is hardly a surprise that on RateMyProfessors.com, students are asked to rate their professors' "hotness" -- in other words, the teachers' worthiness to be sexually fantasized about by bored students. Even in high-school classes, as an observer of novice teachers, I have overheard lewd remarks about female teachers from denizens of the back row who fear no rebuke because none is forthcoming from the current culture.

Gluttony: It hardly needs saying that most colleges struggle to control alcohol consumption by students and the embarrassing incidents and tragedies that result from it. But there are other manifestations of gluttony these days. For example, when did it become acceptable for students to eat and drink in class as if they were sitting in a cafeteria? Nowadays, I occasionally encounter a student who thinks it's OK to consume a large, messy, and odorous meal in class. I once saw a student eat an entire rotisserie chicken, a tub of mashed potatoes with gravy, several biscuits, and an enormous soft drink during the first 10 minutes of a lecture. I felt like a jester in the court of Henry VIII. It seems hard these days to find a student in class whose mouth is not stuffed with food. Such students will often say that they have no other time to eat, but previous generations -- who were no less busy -- managed to consume small snacks between classes. That is why colleges have vending machines.

Envy: I think competition is a good thing in education; up to a point, it encourages students to work harder and excel. But the envious student, perhaps daunted by some temporary setback, comes to believe that education is "a rigged game." Envy is the voice of resignation that cringes at the success of one's peers: "Listen to her, trying to impress the teacher, like she's so brilliant. I hate her." Envy is the feeling that no one "earns" anything because there are no objective criteria of accomplishment; and, as a result, success and failure seem to be based on political and personal preferences. But envy is not limited to differences in effort and ability. Even more pervasive is a sense of unjustified economic inequality, but, it seems to me, the fashionable students in their convertibles who jeer the commuters at the bus stop commit a greater sin than those who envy their money and status.

Pride: I once asked a group of 20 students how many thought they were "better than their parents"? All of them raised their hands. I didn't ask, but I assume they all believed they were better than their teachers too. They would rise higher, be more successful, and transcend the limitations of their elders. We read this belief in our students' expressions: "What you know is not worth learning. They're just your opinions anyway. I am young. I have infinite potential. You are old. And you're just a college professor. But I will be rich and famous someday." They have rarely been given a realistic assessment of their abilities and prospects. Out of this pride -- nurtured by the purveyors of unearned self-esteem, personal grievance, dumbed-down courses, and inflated grades (often in the guise of liberality) -- the opportunity to earn an education is squandered by prideful students who can make a potential heaven seem like hell.

The concept of the "Seven Deadly Sins" comes out of the Christian tradition, but it also has value as an ethical guide or at least as a means of avoiding unhappiness. Increasingly, as a professor who teaches undergraduates, I believe that one of the paramount purposes of a liberal-arts education is to help young people acquire the wisdom to escape those sins, particularly the last one from which the others often spring.

A liberal-arts education, as I see it, is not about acquiring wealth and opportunities to further indulge one's desires. Nor is it about cultivating in students an insular, idolatrous view of their nation, ethnic group, gender, or religion. It is also not about celebrating the so-called "great tradition" of authors, philosophers, and artists.

It is about the recognition, ultimately, of how little one really knows, or can know. A liberal-arts education, most of all, fights unmerited pride by asking students to recognize the smallness of their ambitions in the context of human history, and more. Whether it is grounded in faith or not, a liberal-arts education should help students to combat the Seven Deadly Sins with the "Seven Contrary Virtues" of diligence, generosity, patience, chastity, moderation, contentment, and, most important of all, humility.

Of course, moral perfection seldom arrives at graduation, even in the best of cases. I teach the courses, and yet I must present myself, at last, as the "Chief of Sinners." The behaviors I observe in students often reflect the deeper drives -- the resentments and weaknesses -- of their teachers. Perhaps the impulse to identify the sins of others reflects a corruption more serious than any I have described here. And that is why, next month, I will sermonize on the "Seven Deadly Sins of Professors."

Thomas H. Benton is the pseudonym of a soon-to-be associate professor of English at a Midwestern liberal-arts college. He writes about academic culture and welcomes reader mail directed to his attention at careers@chronicle.com
---

The one section where do disagree with the author is his discussion of lust. To be honest, I don't care what a students wear's to class provided she or he participates in a meaningful way. Jeans, pajamas, whatever. For the record, I've been identified as "hot" on one of the professor rating sites and I've been described as "the best dressed professor on campus" at my current gig. Both those comments make me feel pretty darn good. There you go.

Harry Potter News: Title Announced

Go to Rowlings' site, follow the directions, and the title of the next HP book is yours! No announcement regarding the date, though.

1. Click doorway in mirror to see Christmas tree.
2. Click on the top half of the door to get the wreath.
3. Click on the top of the mirror to get the garland.
4. Click on the spider web right next to the door to make them go away.
5. Click the 4th chime in the window and get the key for the door.
6. Drag key to unlock the door.
7. Door opens to show a desk with a package.
8. Click the bow on the package and it will open.
9. Click the inside of the package and a game of Hangman is shown where you can play a game to guess the name of the seventh book.
10. You can keep playing till you get it right and when you do a check mark will appear.

Nice name.

The Answer

I don't mention my obsession with the Denver Nuggets very often on this weblog, but suffice it to say that my love of the Nuggets surpasses that of the Chicago Cubs. Strange, but true.* Having suffered through almost 20 years of mediocrity, the Nuggets have finally started to turn things around. The most recent move by the Nuggets' front office is definitely exciting.

Will Iverson catapult the Nuggets to the next level? Are there enough shots for both Melo and AI? Will the move turn into a disaster? Who knows. What I do know is that for the first time in a very, very, very long time, the front office made a big move. It might work, it might not. This could be "the move" or it could be a train wreck. I really don't care. I'll be here to listen to it all.** For the first time in years, it's truly an exciting time to be a fan.

*The '94 strike soured me on baseball and I've never really followed the sport in the same way. I'm a box score fan, really. I can't tell you the last time I actually watched a game.

**Given our current locale, I don't get to see many televised games. Our digital cable company can't seem to come to any kind of arrangement with the NBA so I can't purchase access to the games either. If we had that option available, I'd shell out the $200 a year. Count on it. Thankfully, I am able to pay for radio access via the internets to all the games for $20 a year. I spend many a night grading papers or putting together lesson plans while listening to the Nuggets.

Waging War on Christmas

A few days ago, Michael posted an amusing email regarding holiday greetings. Yes, the piece made me chuckle. Still, there's a serious matter at the heart of the jocularity: the war on Christmas! You know the war, the one where anyone who asks for a bit of multiplicity and inclusiveness (translation: anyone who suggests there are holiday celebrations other than Christmas that are just as deserving of public attention or, worse yet, anyone who doesn't observe a holiday this time of year) around the holidays is attempting to wipe out Christian traditions. How dare you ask for a Menorah in an airport! What do you mean you want us to take down the nativity at City Hall? Why do you hate America? Yeesh.

In past years, I've been on the front lines of the war on Christmas. I didn't protest the display of the nativity on public grounds (although I should state emphatically that religious iconography does not have any place on any public grounds), but I did let people know that not everyone in this country is Christian. When someone belted out a cheery "Merry Christmas," I replied with a scroogerific "I'm not Christian." That stopped 'em cold.

This year, seeing that I'm at a school of the Church, I've been firing less confrontational salvos. Still committed to doing my part in the War on Christmas, I accept the hearty "Merry Christmas" and offer an enthusiastic "Happy Yule!" or "Merry Solstice" in reply. As Yule has become synonymous with Christmas in many circles, most people probably don't realize the subversive nature of my response. If they took a few minutes to sit down and talk to me about holiday plans, they'd learn that I really do celebrate Yule.

Tonight (December 21), at 6:22 Central Standard Time, we celebrate the Winter Solstice. We hail the return of the sun, the balance of dark & light, and nature's magickal progression through the seasons. We celebrate the first day of Winter, the return of hope, and the promise of vernal rebirth. Reflect on the past year, acknowledge the present, and look toward the future. Give thanks for lessons learned and those yet to be learned. Give what you can share to others, whatever that might be.

So mote it be.

The Final Countdown

I finished grading papers/exams/whatnot about 10:30 this morning. With the exception of getting together with one of my colleagues to finalize grades--we team taught a course this semester and simply need to total points from our respective halves--I'm essentially finished with the Fall 2006 semester. I always get a little reflexive about the last 15 weeks of a semester and I think that's probably a good thing. I evaluate myself in terms of teaching, course policies, textbooks, student interactions, etc. This semester has been kind of a mixed bag. I absolutely loved one of my courses, as did the attending students. I heard from no less than three students that it was the best. course. ever taught by the best. professor. ever. Nothing makes me feel better than hearing students refer to me as the best professor they've encountered. A second course produced the exact opposite reaction from both myself and, I suspect, my students. Can you say bored, bored, bored? My lectures were uninspired, the textbook about as dry as one can get; the entire experience felt exceedingly mediocre. So, total revamp for next year. Thankfully, I probably won't be teaching the course beyond next year. It's not in my traditional subject area and I'm not all that excited about it. You think that's part of the reason the class was so blah? You bet it was. My third course had great moments and down moments, but was a good experience overall. There are a few adjustments to be made, of course, but that's par for the course.

The biggest frustration this semester related directly to high maintenance students. I'm not sure if it was something in the air or water, but I've never had students who needed more guidance and encouragement. Students emailed me about proper citation formats (the style manual is a required text for the course), manuscript reviews (proofreading, essentially), topic choice, organization, and the list goes on, and on, and on. I've never spent more time dealing with goofy questions that, upon a few moments reflection, could be answered without emailing a professor. For whatever reason, students don't hesitate to send an email at 1 AM with a question regarding where to place a comma in a reference. I'm not kidding. AND, they expect an email by 7 AM or earlier. I won't even get into the trouble student who emerged at the end of the semester. Beyond ridiculous. But I kept my cool and stuck to my guns. There are many lessons to be learned in college and not all relate to lecture or a textbook.

I produced very little in the way of personal scholarship during the Fall 2006 semester; that has to change. Oh, I managed to look up an article here and there, but I generated a scant 4-5 pages in terms of actual writing. That's pathetic. I've already committed to having two pieces finished by the end of the Spring 2007 semester. That's approximately 50 pages of material for those keeping score. Discipline. As STK reminds me, it's all about the discipline. Who wants to write when one can blog, read blogs, and waste tons of time on the Internets?

Telecommuned

With the recent cell phone purchase and yesterday's installation of broadband phone, I've officially joined the digital age. And I have voice mail again! I feel like I'm back in the civilized world.

It's Saturday and I really have no idea why I'm up this early.

Bring on the Tubes!

No, this isn't a post about a cheesy, but oh so enjoyable, pop band from the 1980s. Anyone remember "She's a Beauty?" Rather than silly pop music, I'm talking about the the reality that TLO needs tubes in his ears.

Since September, TLO has struggled with any number of illnesses: colds, the stomach flu, and ear infections. In fact, we've been dealing with some kind of malady about every two weeks. As one might imagine, that makes for a cranky infant and cranky parents. We're really tired of losing sleep, administering meds, meetings with doctors (at least a half dozen visits), and racing to the emergency room (twice since October--asthma and a 105 degree temp). The most frustrating of the illnesses has been the Ear Infection That Will Not Die. Several rounds of antibiotics (we're at 5 or 6) and TLO's ears are still inflamed. The ears/nose/throat specialist, a doctor we both liked very much, took one look at his ears and said, "Let's get that appointment set up." TLO has a nasty little cold at the moment and we need to wait until that clears up before scheduling the surgery. The anesthesia is administered via gas and any kind of chest congestion is a big NO. Surgery could come as early as next week or as late as the first couple weeks of January. Either way, we'll soon be one step closer to the bionic kid.

Feastolicious

Friday's Feast, December 08, 2006

Appetizer--Which language would you like to learn and why?
Spanish. I've wanted to learn the language for years and never got around to it. I think Spanish is the one language I might actually use. Would you believe I made it all the way to my Ph.D. without ever taking a foreign language? How the heck did that happen?

Soup--What's the funniest thing you've heard or read so far this week?
A couple nights back, J suggested the following name for a communication studies themed bakery: ethos, bakos (pronounced "bake-ohs"), and logos. Freakin hysterical. I've been laughing about it for days.

Salad--Which movie was so bad you couldn't watch the whole thing?
I don't think I've ever stopped watching a movie no matter how bad. Are there times when I wanted to quit watching? Sure. I'm a glutton for punishment. One movie I believe is atrocious beyond measure is Some Kind of Wonderful. What a frelling horrible film. One of my good friends in college loved the film and insisted I watch it. I sat through the whole thing. 95 minutes of my life. Gone. Thank goodness we had tons of beer.

Main Course--If there were a holiday in your honor that didn't use your actual name, what would the day be called?
What a weird question. How about Geek Cool day. This is the day when everyone celebrates their inner geek, guilty pleasures, and what not.

Dessert--Name one movie which is coming out soon that you would like to see.
I'd love to see The Fountain (it's already out), but I suspect it won't make it to our remote corner of the Midwest.

Don't Melt that Pot!

I'm saddened by the following from Cornell News.

About 27 percent of respondents said that all Muslim Americans should be required to register their location with the federal government, and 26 percent said they think that mosques should be closely monitored by U.S. law enforcement agencies. Twenty-nine percent agreed that undercover law enforcement agents should infiltrate Muslim civic and volunteer organizations, in order to keep tabs on their activities and fund raising. About 22 percent said the federal government should profile citizens as potential threats based on the fact that they are Muslim or have Middle Eastern heritage. In all, about 44 percent said they believe that some curtailment of civil liberties is necessary for Muslim Americans.

Conversely, 48 percent of respondents nationally said they do not believe that civil liberties for Muslim Americans should be restricted.

Wow. Just wow. The actions of a handful of extremists results in the indictment of an entire religious belief system. This is the kind of thing that drives me absolutely batty. The leap of logic required to jump from "a handful of religious zealots commit horrible acts" to "all Muslims are potential terrorists" is astounding. Seriously, this is the epitome of the hasty generalization fallacy.

Why is it that the majority of U.S. Americans don't call for the surveillance of Christian organizations when an abortion clinic is bombed? No need to answer; it's a rhetorical question.

I have zero hope that our country will ever get its collective shit together.

From the Should be Sleeping Department: The Anarchist Wine Cellar

I found the following in an interview with Emily Haines, front woman for Metric, sometime member of Broken Social Scene, and recently gone soloteer (Knives Don’t Have Your Back)

Interviewer: I’m sure your hosts will be impressed when you arrive on their doorstep with a fine imported bottle of Italian red.

Haines: Most of my friends and family—we’re anarchists—so I need to be very careful. I’ll buy a bottle of wine that I think is great, but it will turn out to be from some region that was destroyed by the establishment. I’ll become very unpopular.

Awesome. Socially conscious wine shopping. Heh.

If Gwen Stefani and Sarah McLachlan weren't taking up all my celebrity crush head space, Emily Haines would be a definite candidate.

On a more serious note, STK and I met Haines a few years back at an extremely small club in Denver. She spotted us (the only alternatively dressed people in a sea of frat inspired fashion) and asked us to hang out with her at the merchandise table for the better part of the night. I'm sure she has no recollection of that evening but it meant a lot to us. Why would Emily Haines spend 2-3 hours with a couple fans in Denver? I'd like to think it's because STK and I are good people and exude authenticity with those we meet. Who knows. One thing is certain, STK and I won't forget the night we hung out with Emily Haines. She's the real deal and I'm certain she really does choose her wine carefully.

Grading. Check.

12:20 AM. The last class day of the semester. Grading is complete. T-minus 108 hours before final exam/paper wave commences.

blather

*The semester is wrapping up and it can't come too soon. The final two weeks of the semester are always insane in terms of grading. That said, the current grading avalanche is nothing compared to when I had 230 students a semester. By comparison, 59 students makes for easy work.

*We're making the transition to broadband phone service next week. With the recent cell phone purchase, the 911 issue is no longer a problem (power outage=no internet access=no phone--not a great combination with an infant in the house). Our local broadband company finally seduced me to the dark side with the promise of no phone charge for six months, then only $30/month for phone service including voice mail (Qwest doesn't offer the voice mail service in our area. Huh?), unlimited long distance, etc.

*I should be grading papers tonight but we've lined up a sitter and we're heading to see Casino Royale with Dr. OneDink and J. I've always loved Bond and can't wait to see what appears to be one of the best critically received Bonds. Did I mention it's free popcorn night at the local theater? Gotta love the small town mentality.

*We won't be making it back to Colorado for the holidays. STK works until the 22nd and we both return to work on January 3. If we factor in two days out and two days back, that doesn't leave a whole lot of time to actually enjoy the Big City. So, we've decided to stick it out until we're both off for summer break.

*I'm thinking about submitting an abstract, one that's been refused a couple other places, to the 2007 SW/Texas Popular Culture Association convention (Albuquerque). I still have some travel funds available and might as well use them up, eh?

Hero

STK recently overheard an anonymous third grader utter the following in her classroom.

"Save the cheerleader, save the world."

Brings a tear to my eye when I hear a youngling embrace geek speak.

Grinder v2.0

As almost any of my family, friends, and acquaintances know, I am a coffee geek. I love coffee. Good coffee. Really good coffee. Serving me a cup of Folgers, Maxwell House, Hills Bros or any other brand of bulk robusta crap is a personal affront. If you visited my house, I wouldn't offer you a drink from the dog dish. Why would you offer me the coffee equivalent?

Anyway, several years ago I learned one of the simple secrets of brewing good drip coffee: the proper grind. Coffee geeks will confirm my assertion: a good grind totally changes the taste of coffee. When I learned the secret of all coffee secrets, I ran out and purchased a decent burr grinder. And grind the grinder did. That particular grinder served me well for the better part of three years. Last year, however, I noticed the little grinder that could wasn't grinding so well. Yes, I managed to wear out the burrs on a burr grinder. I poked around the Internets a bit and, much to my dismay, learned the burrs aren't all that easy to replace (or to even find).

With the holidays around the corner, I decided to use some of my holiday bank on a new grinder. It should arrive tomorrow afternoon. In all seriousness, I'm not sure I'll sleep well tonight.

Next year, I add the espresso machine.

Feastolicious

Appetizer--Have you ever flown in a helicopter?
Nope.

Soup--What color is your warmest coat or jacket?
You know, none of my jackets are really warm enough for the weather in these parts. I typically wear a black Navy peacoat with a fleece vest layered beneath.

Salad--What is your favorite rainy day activity?
Sleeping?

Main Course--Describe your hands.
Smallish, slender, and in need of some serious moisturizer.

Dessert--If you could eat only one nut for the rest of your life, what nut would you pick?
Pistachios, pistachios, and more pistachios. Even though I love pistachios, I typically eat more peanuts and walnuts. Go figure.

Study Ourselves

The purpose of studying Buddhism is not to study Buddhism, but to study ourselves.

-Shunryu Suzuki, "Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind"

Isn't this the purpose of all spiritual practice? Regardless of the path we chose, don't we engage in a systematic investigation of the spiritual principles associated with that particular practice and apply those principles to both our personal lives/experiences as well as the broader human condition?

The Return of an Old Friend

Have I mentioned lately how much I miss Buffy? Seriously, even though Battlestar Galactica and Heroes are excellent science fiction fare, neither is quite on par with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And since none of the networks seem smart enough to pick up a Buffy spin off, let alone a new Whedon program, I'll have to settle for the next best thing:

Buffy: Season Eight. Comic book style!

This one has already been added to my hold file.

Handyman Negri

I'll let you in on a little secret: I'm pretty handy with tools. Anyone who spends time with me will know that I talk a mean streak about hating yard work, household repairs, and other handy chores. And I do. I would rather do just about anything other than mow the lawn, paint a room, or make minor plumbing repairs. My time is much better spent reading a book, playing a video game, grading papers, napping, etc. What most people don't realize, however, is that I'm actually fairly skilled when it comes to yard work and household repair miscellany. I have a decent set of tools--surprise, surprise--thanks in no small part to my father.*

Throughout my childhood my parents remodeled, or built from the ground up, every single home we ever inhabited. As their child, I was cheap labor. You name it, I've done it: framing, drywalling, trimming (cut & stain), pouring concrete, running electrical, installing an automated sprinkler system, minor plumbing repairs. The list goes on and on and on. The only things I haven't done are siding and roofing. The siding thing looks more cumbersome then difficult; the roofing thing I think I could figure out. In fact, I'm going to be doing some minor roof work when the warmer weather returns in the spring. I'll probably be doing a little masonry repair work, too.

Today, much to my father's joy, I spent the afternoon repairing our automatic garage door. The people who owned the house before us didn't maintain their garage door as required. Over the years, the garage door went out of balance, the engine had to work far harder than usual (the engine gets the door moving--the springs should do 90 percent of the work), and internal gears got chewed to nothingness. So, rather than call a repair person and buy a new door opener, I jumped on my local internets and ordered the part I needed. Feeling mostly recovered from the stomach ailment, I decided to spend my Thanksgiving afternoon at the top of a ladder. The process of replacing the worn gear wasn't nearly as difficult as I feared; readjusting the door after the process was another thing altogether. I spent more time adjusting the chain tension, setting the Up & Down limits, and lubricating the hinges than I did replacing the actual worn out part. Needless to say, the job is complete and I suffered only minor injury. At the end of the process, and I mean I was completely finished, I misstepped coming down off the ladder and crashed to the concrete floor. My left wrist, elbow, and butt cheek took the major part of the impact. The wrist and elbow seem not so worse for wear. The buttock, on the other hand, is getting sorer and sorer as the night progresses. I suspect I'll have a nasty bruise in a few days. I guess that's the price you pay when you try to save yourself a few bucks.**

I capped off the evening with a couple episodes of Farscape with STK. What an exciting Thanksgiving, eh?

*Although I'm loathe to admit that I need to significantly increase my tool collection. Now that I'm a homeowner, I can't call the landlord for the tiny little stuff that needs doing. A better drill, a good circular saw, a couple of decent saw horses, a pair of vice grips, and a good tool belt would round out the collection.

**Okay, I probably saved a couple hundred bucks doing this one on my own. Having someone service a garage door is not inexpensive. Trust me on this--my grandparents owned and operated a garage door company for the better part of 40 years. I suppose there was a bit of pride at work with the garage door, too. How could I ever look my grandmother in the eye if I'd betrayed the family legacy and asked someone else to work on my garage door? The shame. Oh, the shame. Garage door maintenance is in our blood.

the Big Suck continues

Remember that stomach ailment that afflicted STK and TLO? Guess who spent most of yesterday worshiping the porcelain God? I hate vomiting; it reminds me of my early drinking days. Ick.

with all the sickiness whirling around our home, Thanksgiving has been officially postponed until Saturday. That is all.

Quarantined!

After 3.5 miserable days in San Antonio, I finally arrived back at home for a full day of rest before heading back to school for the ridiculous pre-Thanksgiving break Monday & Tuesday. Why we don't just call the entire week a holiday break, I'll never know. I arrived home early Sunday morning, my head still throbbing, and collapsed into the comfort of my own bed.* I woke up at 9 and hoped I'd enjoy a day of napping/convalescing. Wrong answer. The stomach flu hit our household, taking STK and TLO down for the count. In fact, STK still hasn't been able to go back to work and, thanks to a relapse tonight, won't be working tomorrow either. TLO has been banished from daycare for the remainder of the week.

How have I been holding up? I haven't, I'm afraid to admit. Since I'm the only adult who's well enough to maneuver, I've had to ignore my own need for sleep/rest/healing. I haven't been happy about the situation and I've let everyone around me--STK, TLO, the pets--know that I am not pleased. Still dealing with the remnants of the avian bird flu I contracted in San Antonio, my patience has been nonexistent. I've been mean, short tempered, and generally icky to be around. STK even suggested I give some thought to living somewhere else until all the illnesses blow over. I gave it serious thought. I'm a selfish bastard, and a rather unlikable bastard, when I don't feel well. Not quite the person you want ministering to your illness.

If STK is too sick to care for TLO tomorrow, it looks like I'll be canceling class and tending to the ill. Meanwhile, my head is still thudding in the background (the head affliction has downgraded from pounding to thudding--I think I might even be approaching throbbing territory).

The last week has been one big suck.

*STK and DrOneDink think I experienced my first migraine headache. I disagree. I've never had a migraine in my life. I'm still voting for the bizzaro sinus ailment hypothesis.

Oops

I had a nice long post typed out recounting the disaster that is my trip to our national convention. Suffice it to say that I've been sick the whole frelling trip. As the plane descended to San Antonio, our host city, I noticed some rather nasty sinus pressure. By late evening the chills, temperature, headache, and sore throat took up residence in my body. Despite copious amounts of Zicam, ibuprofen, and various other remedies, I'm still not up to snuff. I missed my panel (and slept), made a quick tour of the book exhibit earlier today, and retired to my hotel room.

To add insult to injury, I just spilled a cup of coffee on the table and some of the coffee apparently worked its way into the laptop. Error. Crack. Snapple. Pop. Shut down. An hour later, I managed to get the thing started in Safe Mode. A few minutes later, all systems seem to be restored to normal ::crosses fingers:: A new laptop purchase is inevitable as this one is WAY old, but I was hoping to wait until after the holiday season. Let's hope it holds out a couple more months.

What a freakin' trip. I can't wait to go home.

Huh?

Since informing a student that I would not have the time to read through another copy of a manuscript for at least week--other papers/assignments/conventions are in the queue--I've received nearly a dozen emails asking me to read a manuscript. No joke. The requests are written as if I'd never said a single word. I've spent more time with this single student than any other student. Ever. Time for others' work, including my own, to take precedence.

The Unknown

By Donald Rumsfeld.

The Unknown
As we know,
There are known knowns.
There are things we know we know.
We also know
There are known unknowns.
That is to say
We know there are some things
We do not know.
But there are also unknown unknowns,
The ones we don't know
We don't know.

—Feb. 12, 2002, Department of Defense news briefing

Beautiful prose. Absolutely beautiful. What's even more beautiful is the fact that the author--a wonderful poet but horrible Secretary of Defense--will now have plenty of time to write.

Easier Softer Way

The Spiritual Science Research Foundation (SSRF) states that 96% of the root causes of any type of addiction are actually in the spiritual realm, caused due to possession by an entity.

If I'm reading this article correctly, it's highly likely that booze isn't my problem. Instead, I have some kind of demon, ghost, alien entity living rent free in my head? Call the exorcist and pass the Jagermeister!

The Worm Turns

As I've been stressing to many of my progressive colleagues over the last several years, patience pays off. Whenever U.S. politics makes a drastic move left or right, the pendulum always swings back the other way. Tonight is proof positive of that fact. No matter how you try to spin it, the Democrats made huge gains in the House and possibly the Senate. Provided the Democrats actually take on the role of loyal opposition, we'll have a real check and balance in Washington, D. C.

While I'm pleased that Democrats won big, I'm terribly disappointed by the Colorado race involving Marilyn Musgrave. What a hateful human being. Why anyone would choose to vote for her, I'll never know. She's a one trick pony, continually banging the drums of war for a Constitutional amendment declaring marriage a union between a man and woman. Nothing like basing an entire political career on the denial of civil rights. Ick.

WTF Department: Green Poop

As reported by Dr OneDink, the following line actually appeared in a paper submitted by a college student.

"Rumor has it that grape Mountain Dew turns your poop green."

I'd kill for a student to put something like that in a paper. And, as I shared with Dr. OneDink, I'd write what seemed like a serious comment to the student. I'd write something like the following.

Avoid colloquial expressions in academic writing. Additionally, I'd suggest using a content footnote for this kind of material. Something like, "Peer testimony suggests that consumption of Mountain Dew: Pitch Black may produce verdant excrement" would do the trick nicely.

Review the Pitch Black Dew.
Review the Pitch Black Dew II.
Review the Icee Pitch Black Dew

PC Mania

Thanks to an unexpected escrow refund (gotta love lower than expected property taxes), I finally ordered the much needed new computer. My present computer, which has been an absolute work horse, is pushing three years old. When a computer takes 4-5 minutes to warm up to the point that you can actually open applications, you know you're pushing your luck. With STK's blessing, I took the plunge (only after confirming I'd be receiving a free Vista upgrade) and should have a new desktop by early next week.

It's very similar to this model. While it's not a top-of-the-line rig, it's a vast improvement over my current PC. I'll probably add another 1 GB of RAM, a new power source, and a PCI express video card in the coming months.