I feel like a Rick Springfield album

So a good friend recommended a book called This Fine Place So Far From Home that I've been reading when I get a chance. It's a collection of essays from academics from working class backgrounds, and this should really be required reading for anyone moving into upper level higher education. Plus, it's very cool! You've gotta love any academic book where the opening essay is entitled "Stupid Rich Bastards."

I'm really enjoying the read, but it's making me think not-so-uplifting thoughts about my current job, the state of my career, and the general state of university teaching as a profession. So I'm torn about how much I should really keep reading.

Here's the deal: I really am happy to be a full-time faculty. I like my department, I like the people with whom I work...and as anyone who was reading this blog last year can tell you (see my post on trying to become a security guard), I am much more at peace than when I was part-timing. I'm definitely not knocking my job security...I don't know how I survived without it. My students, for the most part, generally really try and are open to new thoughts. But this book is, in part, making me really question why I'm here.

Rather than rant primarily about my own class background (which I'm sure is a factor somewhat), I need to tell you how I've started to become hyper-aware of my class status within the University structure.

When I got my Lectureship, I noticed that the wonderful office staff seemed to know me a bit better than they did when I was adjuncting. I've noticed since then that I now know many more faculty than before, when I knew the person who hired me and my office mate. I talk to fellow lecturers in the halls. I have friends on the staff. This is definitely a step up from where I was.

It seems, however, that I've only moved from the academic underclass to the worker-bee class. I've started to notice that I really only know two tenure-track faculty, both of which are my bosses. The profs seem to hang with the other profs, while us non-tenures tend to hang together.

And who can blame us? One night last fall, when I was leaving my office after another marathon grading bout, I walked past the prof offices, and I noticed that they only taught two courses--that's 6 credit hours--while I was teaching 16 credit hours. I drifted off into deep thought, trying to focus on the glorious accomplishments I could make if I only taught two courses (in my major, even) rather than the load I carry...I felt this was better than getting violent and angry with the profs, especially since they all do seem like nice people.

I could publish. I could not only do my book revision but also do my book. I could keep up on new theory and trends. Hell, I could even start my own journal.

Really, the professors seem (from my perspective) to lead a life of luxury, of envy. I wonder how they got there. How many of the tenure-tracks in this department worked up from the non-tenure (or, even worse, the part-time) ranks? How did they do it? Everyone tells me that publication is the key to getting a job, but how does one publish while teaching 18 credit hours at three institutions? Can you even do it if you're not from a "name" program?

All I seem to do is grade and plan, plan and grade. It's worse when papers are due, but when one teaches comp classes, papers are always due.

I thought about this last night while driving home after a 12 hour grading/teaching marathon. The saddest thing about it all is that while I love teaching, I love interacting with students and helping them learn, this really isn't the main reason why I got into this career. I started grad school because I loved learning, I loved reading, I loved creating thought. And as much as I seem to procrastinate in the drafting process, I love writing...I love the sense of being involved in a big project that might make a difference to someone. It makes me feel smart...which makes me feel worthwhile and quiets the voices in my head accusing me of being a loser...or a fraud.

I am not as good of a teacher when I don't get to think. But the only time I get to read now is when I'm waiting for someone who's late to an appointment. Since I don't get a chance to read, I get very little chance to explore new ideas. I'm not a creator of knowledge anymore, and I don't really know when I will get time to get back into the game save summer break...and if the past few summers is any indication, I will then have to fight sheer semester exaustion.

In short, I feel like a working stiff. I didn't get into academics to be a working stiff. I got into this field because it was supposed to be a place where I could feel unbound by the real world and its requirements...it was supposed to be a place where I could freely think and create.

Yes, I know I'm expressing class envy, but I'm beginning to wonder how anyone is supposed to grab that mobility from academic working class into the realm where thinking is as much a part of your job as teaching. As is, there's a little part of me that says: if I wanted to feel like I was just busting out product, I could've stayed at Little Caesars. I have to be careful I never treat my students as if they were product, and I have to really fight against feeling like a working class dog. It wouldn't be doing any good to my students, and it definitely would scar me if I started believing that.

The thing is, I wonder how many of the Lecturers and Adjuncts here feel exactly the same way...it's not a healthy feeling to think yourself opressed...it has the potential to be a self-fulfilling prophesy. I know that higher education increasingly relies on non-tenure teachers, and that this is probably never going to change...but is it possible to get that upper-class academic gig if you're in the lower ranks? Does the current system allow any class mobility? Or are we stuck here?

I've been considering limiting myself to "happy" culture until things improve. However, this ranting is the only real thinking I seem to get done anymore. Can I use it to my advantage, as motivation? Or will it use me?

Is it better to think dank thoughts than to not think at all?

dress to impress

The continuing saga of my fashion sense:

Earlier today, my friend, UT cohort, and next-office neighbor Bob told me that he's seem me dress professionally entirely too much. He was actually complaining somewhat. But then again, he's only seen one season of Mike Fashion.

The strange thing is that I've only been wearing Dickies work pants and collared shirts. It's not exactly what I'd call formal (aren't Dickies sort of punky? Or at least working class), but I suppose it's a step away from the Hawaiian shirts. So I guess I have been stepping up.

This new-found respectability (at least in terms of appearance) has, however, yielded positive benefits. All of my classes are under their course limit, and students are dropping as we speak...which is only a good thing in that it (a) limits my grading and (b) maybe gets people out of the class who might think I'm a pushover because I dress weird. And most of the students will actually call me "Doctor" now, where last semester, with the Hawaiians, they wouldn't.

I don't quite know if I'm doing the professional thing consciously or not. It's still quite an adjustment being a full-time faculty as opposed to a lowly adjunct. I have book representatives wanting to talk to me. Other faculty know who I am. Someone told me that they felt good knowing I was on the committee to choose a new Comp I textbook...this respectability is just plain strange. After all, how did I ever grow to inspire confidence?

It's getting to be a strange world, indeed.

voyages future

Thanks to the tireless work of Jen, a normal commenter here, I will be attending the Culture Studies Association 4th annual meeting in Washington, DC, this year. The panel looks good...that is, assuming I actually get around to writing my paper, which, with the semester's workload and oft-delayed book revision plan on my docket, isn't exactly a slam-dunk...but I will soldier on.

Anyway, I just finished booking my hotel room at a Radisson outside of DC. It should be very cool.

First off, I booked via Hotels.com and saved about $100 dollars off the top rate.

Second, we can get to either DC itself or the conference via the DC subway system, which of course means we don't have to drive at all. Mass transit rocks.

Third, the rooms all have the Sleep Number beds...but the hotel room also has a video game console listed as an amenity...included! As if I needed another reason to be lazy.

Fourth, they have what looks like a nice bar on premises.

I really wanted to get a room at the Watergate, but
boy, are they pricey. Instead, we're just going to go to their bar and toast Richard Nixon's bones.

If all goes well, I'm also going to get a trip to Oakland for the American Studies Association meeting. Our panel proposal looks good, so we'll see. I want desperately to go to Alcatraz and drink whiskey from a flask...and do the same thing in Golden Gate Park.

Travel is one of the best things about being an academic.

teaching through violence

This semester, I teach two sections of Professional and Technical Writing. It is the first time I've ever taught this subject, and as I have no real formal training in the field or experience with the subject matter, it has been a source of strife for me. I feel more in danger of being called a fraud because of this class than I have with any other course I've taught, so I always have to watch out for some good approach to the material.

Of course, this means that I'm always particularly looking for something to use to illustrate the boring yet necessary book. While I was preparing for this Thursday's class, I remembered an article I read this weekend on the National Archives's display of an American invasion plan for Canada (and while I couldn't find that article online, I did find this).

As these classes are gearing up to write a set of technical instructions, we are already discussing how to proceed in planning a big task. So, in class, we did the preliminary planning of an invasion of Canada. One of my students in my 8am class surprised me by really having a great idea of what you'd need to know to pull this kind of mission off...hmmm, maybe he's thinking of this a little too much. Also, this begs the question...if a sophmore computer science major can fully grasp the complexities of invading another country, why can't everyone? Hint, hint. Anyway....

It is one of the interesting realities of modern government and warfare that we probably have invasion plans for every country, except maybe for the Order of Malta, who, no offense, we could probably take. It would be almost worth becoming president to read how the Pentagon plans to take out Litchenstein.

So there is actual precedence for such an invasion plan...just to reassure some of my Canadian friends. As I told my class, it isn't anything personal against Canada. Some of my best friends are Canadian. They generally have better beer and chocolate than us. Plus, Toronto is too cool to bombard.

But whenever you can involve some violence and bloodshed into a lesson plan, it really makes the examples more vibrant. Yes, folks, warfare can be a viable pedagogical tool.

victory!

Yesterday, right when I was counting down days to the strike, we got word that union and university negotiators had reached a tentative agreement on health care (details courtesy of the Toledo Blade) and as a result, our strike had been called off. While the settlement isn't a perfect solution, it is much better than any other offer that's been on the table to this point.

When I read the news, I was so giddy I couldn't work. So I took Lori out to Uraku, Bowling Green's very fine sushi place. We ordered and ate entirely too much, and then the chef threw in a free spicy tempura shrimp roll that was too good not to polish off right then and there...it was seriously orgasmic...which pushed us past the "eating" stage and into the "gorging" stage.

Afterwards, we went to Howard's, which is my favorite bar in the world. We hung out with three of our favorite BG people (Erik, Marnie, and Jamie), and I drank entirely too much.

Gluttony feels better when it's victorious, self-righteous gluttony. The only problem is that now, I'm gonna have to grade papers instead of picket.

road rage

It was raining this morning, and I was angry. And I'm writing this because I can't decide if either (1) I'm turning into a crotchedy old man or (2) the world is arranged and run by blithering morons.

Can someone please tell me why new roads seem to be paved with black material? In the dark, in the rain, the entire road turns into a mirror. I can never see the lines, have no clue what lane I am in, and am always afraid I'm going to run into a semi. Is all highway construction designed to make me crash? Do these people have it in for me? Is it the world that's crazy, or is it me?

I fear that the "Am I stupid, or does the world suck?" bit might become a recurring thread of conversation...if so, douse me in Scotch and stand back.

void and emotion

My wife went to visit her parents this weekend. And although she was only gone one day, I noticed that I was a profoundly different person without her around.

The whole day, it felt like I was in an emotional void. I didn't feel sad, I didn't feel lonely...I just didn't feel much of anything. I watched television listlessly. I worked on class lesson plans in a trance. I stared at the walls. I absently played stupid video games. I felt bored, and everything seemed slightly, vaguely pointless. Events occupied my time, but that's all they did. I knew, as I went through my day, that I would not be able to either remember a single thing I was currently doing, and I knew that nothing of significance was happening, could happen, would ever happen.

When I heard her car door close, it felt as if someone had turned a light on in my head. The world blossomed from sepia tones to technicolor. The sight of my wife walking up to the door turned on my emotions. Suddenly, everything was fun and interesting again. The world was a place to see, feel, and experience, not just somewhere to inhabit. Things made sense. Life was good.

Having Lori around is the difference between wondering why I should get out of bed and wholeheartedly wishing I could spend the next few hours looking at her sleep, waiting for her to awaken just so I could hold her tight and feel her breath on my chest. Just feeling her body heat next to me, as we went to bed, made me feel good about the world, made me hopeful, made me dream happy dreams.

I know I'm not doing this justice, and I wish I could truly say how much having her with me means...because I suspect that it's the most important thing in the world...

the good and the truly frightening...

On the plus side, we got a new fridge yesterday. Our old one was falling apart, and the first replacement we got didn't seal properly. The brand new fridge that they installed yesterday truly rocks. We've moved up from rusy metal shelves to clear, clean plastic, and from a truly puny 16 cubic feet to over 18. There's a really cool door shelf for the milk and such, sizeable crisper drawers, and a cheese drawer! We had to keep our dairy in a tupperware before, which, for some reason, always felt like we were slumming. We also don't have to deal with the wasteful built-in egg shelf.

On the nerve-grating, fear-of-God side: my union has set a strike date (see this Toledo Blade article for full details). I've been paying credit card minimums for a while so I can save up an emergency fund, so I will financially survive...but this is truly scary. If the sides were even getting somewhat closer in their terms, that would be something, but it doesn't seem to be working out that way. I will, most likely, be sans-income for a while. Fun.

Somehow, the new fridge doesn't quite make up for it.

one last question before I go away

I actually tried listening to the radio a few days ago, and it was enlightening. If the Toledo market is anywhere near representative, apparently radio will not play anything that's not at least 25 years old...at one point, the most current song was "No Sleep 'Till Brooklyn."

When in the hell did this happen? While there was classic rock on the radio when I was going to school, you could still actually hear new stuff. Now, I mostly still hear stuff from the seventies...that's thirty five years old!?!?! When I graduated high school, they weren't playing 1950s tunes.

Is it just me? Am I going nutso?

experimental teaching

When I teach, I like to try little experiments on the classes...see how much my behavior in the class influences their views and their work. Today's the first day of a new semester, so I've been giving thought to what experiments I'm trying this time around.

For the longest time, I asked the students to call me "Mike"...which they all felt free to do except for the BGSU football players, who insisted on calling me "sir"...apparently, they're really good at discipline over there. Last semester, I decided to have them call me "Dr. DuBose," so I could see if the name thing made any difference. They did call me Mr. DuBose, but for whatever reason, they resisted adding the "Dr."...not sure why. Otherwise, I noted no real difference in their behavior.

A few semesters back, I decided to only refer to my then-girlfriend as "my partner" and stay as gender-neutral as possible. The main result was that, combined with my Hawaiian shirts, it made my students think I was gay...I think that one of them might've even asked me if I was a homosexual.

For this semester, I'm thinking about going as professional as I can, for as long as I can...dressing nicely, professional tone and language in class, all that...and then mysteriously switching into full-bore Mike mode, just to see how they react.

If anyone else has ideas for student experiments, however, I'm more than happy to listen.

a season of change?

Every so often, I start to feel like I need to make subtle adjustments with my life. Sometimes I feel like I need to make catastrophic changes. Sometimes I feel like I might actually stick to the planned change. I've never been one for resolutions, but every so often, something clicks, and I realize that I'm going to do things different. I hope this is one of those occasions.

When I quit smoking, there was no magic occurrence, no flash in the head that inspired me...I just woke up one morning, realized I was no longer enjoying the habit, felt like it was time to quit...and it was.

So I got all gung-ho and bought the patches, threw away my smokes and lighter...and then, in the patch directions, they recommended that I switch brands of cigarettes daily, so my body wouldn't be jonesing for a particular cigarette...so I had to fish my smokes out of the trash and continue smoking for two weeks when I really didn't want to. I ran the gamut of brands: Pall Mall, Merits, Dorals, you name it.

Then, the day came. I trashed all my lighters again, put on the patch, and drove to my new job as a graduate assistant...it was my first day. Unfortunately, a very heavy rainfall shut down all but two of Jacksonville's bridges, and the normally 40 minute drive to campus took me 2 1/2 hours...my first time not smoking. How I didn't pull the car over and light an entire pack at once due to stress, I'll never know.

For a good six months, I wanted to rip cigarettes out of people's mouths, pick up butts off the street, but somehow I persevered...I don't know how. In many ways, I'm a very weak, impulsive man, but I had just had enough of smoking...the time was right.

Today, I have the idea that I really need to get healthy. The college lifestyle isn't the most invigorating, physically, but I've let myself slip. I drink more than I probably should, get less exercise than I need, and succumb to junk food more than I need to. I'm not making any promises...yes, I will still go to bars and eat pizza on occasion...but I'm thinking it's the time to get healthy.

Maybe by publically confessing, I will actually stick to the plan...but I'm hoping that, rather than being a wistful idea, that something has clicked inside, that I'm as ready for the change as I was ready to quit smoking. Stay tuned for details.

a statement that could've only come from my wife

We had to buy a new vacuum cleaner the other day. I assembled it before heading out for the evening. When I got home a few hours later, I noticed that Lori had already used it. When I asked her how it worked, she said "It's wonderful...it's like it massages the floor."

Have I mentioned how lucky I am?

put on the hats and dance

So I return to my hangover-induced internet exile to find over 35 spams amongst my e-mail accounts. Why didn't these idiots feel bad instead of I, a humble blogger?

We had a quiet New Years Eve...me and the spousal unit hung out with four good friends, played the last Trivial Pursuit of 2005 untill we got tired of thinking. The big ball dropping took place to the Regis broadcast, where the hosts were, hilariously enough, horribly out of time with the loud chants of the crowd. We then went to charades and strong liquor...the former because we wanted to see each other act out dirty clues, the latter because we all had mysteriously high tolerances to beer for whatever reason. The wife and I were the first to leave, at an early 4am...it was a nice stumble home.

Apparently, I was the only one who got a real hangover as a result of my binge, which would've made me feel like less of a man if I wasn't too busy lying prone in front of the television. The traditional Black-eyed Peas, Rice, and Greens for dinner for luck, another day of just hanging with Lori, and now I have 5 days to get all the work I was supposed to get done over the entire break.

You would think that one of these days, I would learn...but actually, to not ever learn from my experiences is my only resolution.

they finally notice something!

It took a paid advertisement to get the Toledo Blade to notice, but the local paper finally printed an article on the labor woes which have me in a panic...I do wish, however, that they would've gotten some of the very real sense of uncertainty and panic that I feel at the University of Toledo across.

end of year/bloggaversary thoughts

So I had thoughts of doing some grandiose "State of the Blog/State of the Mike" post which would sum up the whirlwind changes I've encountered over the past year, everything from the rent-a-cop interviews to crazy adjuncting to full time employment for the first time ever...but on second thoughts, screw it.

Whenever I reflect, I tend to get a little morose, and I definitely don't need any more of that in my life. Let's face it...although my situation has definitely changed for the better in many ways (employment!), there are many ways where things are just as uncertain now as they were last year (once again, employment). So why would I want to spend a day thinking up an entry which sums all this up? Although there are a whole lot of positives, I would inevitably dwell on the negatives, because that's just the kind of weirdo I am.

So, briefly, I've become better friends with some people, started to regain connections with a few people with whom I've lost, and have all intentions of regaining contact with those with whom I've been lax...no matter whose fault. Instead of being a pretender in four different uncertain jobs, I'm only a pretender in one uncertain job...which is some improvement, I guess. While I might not have gotten a whole lot of scholarly work done, I at least now have an agenda and concievably time to do some of it. And I stay married to the most wonderful person on earth. So, overall, it's a lot better than it could be, and I remain fairly happy.

I do know that I gotta move on a few things, but if all goes to plan, 2006 should be okay...or at least a move forward, which is all one could hope for...

festive films

For a number of years, the cable network TNT used to play the original Star Wars trilogy every Christmas day. In our house, it became a little bit of a competition to see how much Lucas one could stand. Myself, I usually gave out about an hour into Return of the Jedi...of course, my nicotine addiction at the time probably did as much to make me give up as did the overbearing weight of the three movies. One year, my father actually made it through all three films...I was torn between being proud of him and being jealous and a little peeved at my own inadequacy.

My Christmas memories are, as a result of this tradition, triggered as much by sci-fi as they are anything else. I never had much appreciation for the average Christmas special on television, and a few years working at various Little Caesars located in shopping centers that played carols from November 1 to January 10 made me utterly despise Christmas music...no, it was light sabres, rather than any of the traditional Christmas trappings, that rung in the holidays for me.

Unfortunately, when Lucas released the "special editions" of the original trilogy, TNT quit playing Jedi...then, soon after, they quit playing any of the movies. A small, geeky part of me died a little, and I have been searching for another weird holiday tradition to call my own.

For a few years now, Spike TV has been playing James Bond movies during the holiday season...they call it "The 008 Days of 007." I like the Bond films...if you watch them in sequence, you get a pretty good timeline of:

1. the cheese of special effects
   
2. the evolution of ethnic stereotypes
   
3. the increasing fantasy of female body imagery
   
4. the age and deterioration of the various principle characters...Miss
   Moneypenny, for example, becomes very matronly during the later Moore
   Bonds
   
5. how sexism does (or doesn't?) change
   

...amonst other things.

Of course, the James Bond villian is and has been a stereotype for quite a while. They never live up to expectations...Dr. No was much more frightening when they didn't show him, and you have to wonder how Communism lasted as long as it did with all the idiots working in SMERSH/KGB. Yet James Bond villians never caught on, even the James Bond villians who were not in Bond films...Buffy the Vampire Slayer even had three characters who aspired to be Bond villians...and who, hilariously enough, would debate which Bond was the best.

Like most people, I gravitate towards Connery's Bond...none of the others really strike me as having the "badass" quotient. Would anyone really be afraid that Roger Moore would take them in a fight? And none of them were very smart or tactical...it seems like an unsuspecting yet smug Bond always gets himself bonked on the head by the one bad guy who snuck up on him.

I suppose, however, that critiquing the lack of intelligence in Bond films is a little like using logic to study wrestling narratives...it ain't about that. Which is why, if I were asked to name my favorite film of all these, Moonraker would be my answer...it doesn't even pretend to be logical. Six undetectable space shuttles, a plan to kill all humans and repopulate with "perfect specimens," Jaws finding love, and more silliness...it's all so beautiful.

The women--or, as they're called in popular terms, the "Bond Girls"--are also funny. Some are skeletal (especially in the one set in Bombay), some are scary (Grace Jones, anyone?), and even the ones that supposedly have college degrees (the A View to A Kill one...who went on to That 70s Show) still talk and act like pinheads. They also follow a set pattern in terms of order of appearance and fate...the quick fling at the beginning who never comes back, the good one who gets killed, the one who turns evil, and finally, the good one who goes on to have climactic sex with James at the film's climax.

I'm not sure if it's really an appropriate film series for Christmas, though. Do the Bond films have any Christmas references (as does Die Hard, which is more festive as a result)? Yes, there is good versus evil, but do Bond's quirks, sinful as they are, ameliorate his goodness?

The one thing the Bond films do have going for them, however, is that they are stupidly addicting enough to make one not do any of the multitude of work assignments one might have hanging over one's head...and for that, if nothing else, you gotta love them...or is this opinion just my severe procrastination coming to light? I wonder...

nightly entertainment

So my darling wife and me went to the movies last night to see The Ringer. Several points of interest there:

1. The "chef" at the theater's Szbarro's (or however you spell it) got to wear the really goofy, puffy chef's hat...I guess it was intended to allow him to lord his position over the popcorn flunkies. Anyway, before this, I never really thought about the hierarchical order of concessionaires before.
   
2. Who really goes to the movie theaters for hot dogs, pizza, and smoothies?
   
3. Why can't theaters pop fresh popcorn? It ain't hard.
   
4. There were three people working our line at concessions, but two of them couldn't work register. One of them, when the others were off getting various food items, was stuck with nothing to do, so he did a goofy dance. It was nice of this schmuck to make light of the fact that we're waiting and he was totally useless to us.
   
5. The Ringer is marketed a little bit as a gross-out movie, and that type of humor apparently attracts the kids.
   
6. Why do teens like to sit right next to the screen and adults like to sit a mile away?
   
7. The previews were all pretty much for movies with a main selling point of making fun of the overweight. Included in these was Alyson Hanigan in a truly dreadful-looking film which was to date films what Scary Movie was to horror films...at least that's how it was being marketed. She's a much better actor than that, so I'm only assuming she must have a drug problem or something to accept a role so far below her talent level.
   
8. The actual film itself was fine. The plot was predictable, of the "you could see that coming a mile away" variety, but the acting was quite good. They used a large cast of mentally challenged actors, many of which were very funny.
   
9. One of the coolest things about the movie was how self-aware the mentally challenged characters were...they were under no illusions as to how people saw them and how they could use that information to their benefit. The characters were well-rounded, never characatures...and Hollywood rarely does that for anyone. To do that for a whole group of people who otherwise wouldn't even be used in our media was quite extraordinary.
   
10. Ultimately, The Ringer was more sensitive and enlightened than it had any right to be...and I wonder how many of the teens, undoubtedly drawn to the theater for a "retards are funny" film, felt like they were bait and switch victims. Using the trappings of car crash culture to educate? Maybe it's a viable approach.
    

Afterward, I went drinking with a friend, which went the way such things tend to go.... We eventually ended up at a local bar which has a drag night...which is as much (a) a straight meat market and (b) a place for enlightened straights as it is a gay hangout. We saw many wonderous things, including a very scrawny woman shaking an ass that she did not have for two obviously gay guys, who nonetheless participated in dirty dance grinding...which is relatively puzzling. We did stay for the second show, which mainly raised the questions (a) where else can you see transexuals wearing whipped cream? and (b) why are so many drag queens black? These are somewhat important questions that deserve some study and serious answers...although that research is not going to come from me, as my life is weird enough as it is.

year end blog review I--quotes

While preparing for the first annual "State of the Blog" address, I reread every entry. These are a few of my favorite quotes from the year:

"rather than being wined and dined by senior faculty from around the world, I'm sitting here in Bowling Green, staring out my window, looking at the snow-covered shrubbery, and contemplating a trip outside to look for child-assembled snowmen to knock down and beat up."

"sooner or later we may see CSI: Wood County, OH. Coming up on this episode, the gang of super sexy forensic experts in low cut tops examine the crime scene for clues on who tipped the cow, Bessie."

"the ability to teach Intro to Ethnic Studies doesn't help convince an employer that I can ring up the newest Nu-Metal cd or pour an icee."

"Now, forgive me if this offends or makes me look more like a pig than I actually am, but I found the whole experience of watching women's curling to be terribly...erotic. There were some mighty attractive curlers there (even the ones whose hair was straight, HA HA HA HA HA...sorry)...I think either the Ontario or the Manitoba team had the most babes. And then they started to play, and they started to yell... "Woah!!!!".... "Harderrrr!!!!!!!".... "Yeasssss!!!!!!".... "Curl!!!!!!!!!" Tell me, it's not a stretch to get turned on by this, is it?"

"I have seen people without dissertations get jobs. I have seen people apply to only a handful of places and get jobs. I have seen a few people with diminished social graces and limited classroom skills get tenure. I have seen the black wombat of Satan on the horizon, fangs glistening with ichor, bearing down for one last bite..."

"the female (hot in a redneck housewife kind of way) asked me if she could clean her glasses on my shirt. How do you respond to this kind of question? I couldn't tell if she had no social grace or if she was coming on to me."

"Is dressing formally really that far behind? Will I quit drinking too much? How about getting mad at the young whippersnappers across the street who make noise to all hours of the night? Will I start complaining about how today's music doesn't have melody like it did in my age? Who can indeed understand these kids today? Somebody give me a comic, quick!"

"Having a big head isn't all it's cracked up to be. Sure, it attracts the chicks...my wife was telling me the other day that the sheer size of my melon was what first set her heart all aflutter...but you face other difficulties. Guys, driven to sheer envy by the inadequacy of their own skulls, used to beat me up on an hourly basis, and my head provided a big target."

"Wal-Mart is very close to what I expect Hell to resemble. As you get closer to Christmas shopping season and the Wal-Mart crowd increases, you move down to a more perilous circle of hell...you see, Dante was wrong in the details. We did run into one of those plastic animatronic mounted deer heads that sang Elvis' "Suspicious Minds," and that was the highlight of our visit."

Stay tuned for the actual year end address, which hopefully will be the last of the ego-building grandstanding I'll do for a while...

programming note

Sometime yesterday, I realized that I missed the one year anniversary of this blog...bummer. So, in between making a tomato sauce and cleaning house, I plan to spend a little time assembling the "state of the blog" address today.

I am also going to make an effort to keep posting over the break, unlike many of my loser friends who are using the excuse of being in other states or on the interstate...weenies.

upon further review...

Had to go to the grocery store yesterday to get last minute food, and I came to this inevitable conclusion...I really friggin' hate people.

I swear, there's something about groceries which makes everybody oblivious idiots. No one was looking where they were going. Everybody was moving at .071393 miles per hour. Shoppers spending three minutes (no exaggeration) trying to decide what variety of frozen fruit they were gonna buy. People shopping as a family experience, which would not be a problem, but they were walking four abreast. Mothers sending their four year old to pick out the proper variety of non-diary creamer, and then yelling directions from the end of the isle.

And of course, in light of all the frustrations, I forgot a few key ingredients and had to go to another store upon unloading the swag from store one...from now on, I'm giving serious thought to shopping at 3am, just to avoid the morons.