Tuesday, April 01, 2008
do I make you laugh?
My lovely spousal unit just told me that my level of humor tends to add to her stress load. For people who know me and have experienced that humor, this should come as utterly no surprise.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
desperation
I just saw a television ad for some asthma medication, where one of the side effects was "increased chance of asthma-related death."
Don't you miss the days before they would let drug companies advertise on television?
Don't you miss the days before they would let drug companies advertise on television?
Monday, March 24, 2008
self realization hurts
Today, I learned something really sad about myself....I still know all the lyrics to the commercial jingle for the Atari 2600 version of Defender. Why can't I purge this and all the other useless crap (like how to play the guitar part for Accept's "Balls to the Wall") from my head so I can remember useful stuff?
Saturday, March 22, 2008
if you really put metal there, it would hurt
Today, while exercising, I had the computer play Metallica's Ride the Lightning. A few thoughts:
- I actually remember when Metallica was transgressive. When you played them, everyone looked at you as if you were crazy.
- I also remember when Metallica was cool. Today? They're classic rock. Wee.
- I will never be able to make clear to my students just how shocking it was to first hear "Fight Fire with Fire" in 1984.
- Today, a kid listening to Metallica is basically akin to if I, when in high school, would've listened to The Byrds.
- Is this really the same band who did "Enter Sandman," which had the really wussy "Now I lay me down to sleep" bit?
- This album would've been even better if they would've eased off the effects. Metal guitar does not need a chorus pedal!
- It's neat that you can have a full album and hardly hear the bass.
This is all secondary to my biggest conclusion: jeez, I'm old.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
on race and hope
For the first time since I can remember, I'm excited about the presidential election.
The first president I remember was Carter, and I really don't remember too much about him. I have lots of memories about Reagan, because I started to become aware of the importance of government by that time...but that's a topic for my book, not the blog. I was not old enough to vote for Bush I, and to tell you the truth, I have no idea where I would've went with that one...it's not like Dukakis inspired great loyalty, after all. On the other hand, I did get to see the marvelous economic effects of the Bush I presidency, so it's not like I have an abundance of love for him either.
I did vote for Clinton both times. The first time, it was in part because I saw the economic devastation of Bush I first hand, but the biggest reason was frankly that I wanted health insurance. I voted for Clinton the second time because as bitter as I was about the health insurance debacle, he still seemed less deadly than Dole.
Al Gore got my vote, but that one was a toughie. Gore ran without a doubt one of the worst possible campaigns I could imagine. How can you distance yourself from a president with one of the highest approval ratings ever? But he was no Bush II, and that was enough for me...although I had to have a shot of bourbon after voting to get the taste out of my mouth.
Kerry was also hard, because he was such a charisma void and an idiot to boot. However, by this time, I saw the damage Bush II could do, and I would vote for anyone who could prevent our great country from turning into an overly moralistic bully. We all know how that one turned out, though.
This time, however, I feel really good about the election, and that's mostly because of Barak Obama. I used to wonder what it would be like to vote for someone you actually believed in, who wanted to be president for all the right reasons, who made sense and had obviously weighed out all sides of an issue--morally, politically, ethically, practically.
I like Obama so much, I went out and campaigned for him on the day of the state primary. For those who know me, you realize how hard it is for me to approach and interact with total strangers, so this was not easy. I wanted to be a part, however, and I wanted to know that I did everything I could to help in this movement.
In this, I was largely inspired by a friend, who was very instrumental in the BG Obama campaign. Also, my in-laws drove in and did campaigning the week before the primary.
Today, Obama finally addressed the 500 pound gorilla in the room...race. After all, when you have the first black man ever to be a serious candidate, race is obviously an issue in some regard. On his website, there's a video and a transcript of his speech entitled "A More Perfect Union." It is perhaps one of the more lucid, eloquent, intelligent, and hopeful takes on race in America I've ever heard. It shows a grace and spark which I've never before seen out of a politician.
It's also a good reason why I, for the first time in ages, have real hope for our country.
The first president I remember was Carter, and I really don't remember too much about him. I have lots of memories about Reagan, because I started to become aware of the importance of government by that time...but that's a topic for my book, not the blog. I was not old enough to vote for Bush I, and to tell you the truth, I have no idea where I would've went with that one...it's not like Dukakis inspired great loyalty, after all. On the other hand, I did get to see the marvelous economic effects of the Bush I presidency, so it's not like I have an abundance of love for him either.
I did vote for Clinton both times. The first time, it was in part because I saw the economic devastation of Bush I first hand, but the biggest reason was frankly that I wanted health insurance. I voted for Clinton the second time because as bitter as I was about the health insurance debacle, he still seemed less deadly than Dole.
Al Gore got my vote, but that one was a toughie. Gore ran without a doubt one of the worst possible campaigns I could imagine. How can you distance yourself from a president with one of the highest approval ratings ever? But he was no Bush II, and that was enough for me...although I had to have a shot of bourbon after voting to get the taste out of my mouth.
Kerry was also hard, because he was such a charisma void and an idiot to boot. However, by this time, I saw the damage Bush II could do, and I would vote for anyone who could prevent our great country from turning into an overly moralistic bully. We all know how that one turned out, though.
This time, however, I feel really good about the election, and that's mostly because of Barak Obama. I used to wonder what it would be like to vote for someone you actually believed in, who wanted to be president for all the right reasons, who made sense and had obviously weighed out all sides of an issue--morally, politically, ethically, practically.
I like Obama so much, I went out and campaigned for him on the day of the state primary. For those who know me, you realize how hard it is for me to approach and interact with total strangers, so this was not easy. I wanted to be a part, however, and I wanted to know that I did everything I could to help in this movement.
In this, I was largely inspired by a friend, who was very instrumental in the BG Obama campaign. Also, my in-laws drove in and did campaigning the week before the primary.
Today, Obama finally addressed the 500 pound gorilla in the room...race. After all, when you have the first black man ever to be a serious candidate, race is obviously an issue in some regard. On his website, there's a video and a transcript of his speech entitled "A More Perfect Union." It is perhaps one of the more lucid, eloquent, intelligent, and hopeful takes on race in America I've ever heard. It shows a grace and spark which I've never before seen out of a politician.
It's also a good reason why I, for the first time in ages, have real hope for our country.
Monday, March 17, 2008
2007-2008 job decap
Last year, I spend the better part of the summer writing, because I was quite clear that the number one thing I could do to improve my chances on the job market was to increase my publications. I got several articles and a book proposal revision finished. I felt good.
I also decided to revise my letter and vitae format significantly, so I sought advice from several sources. The cv is now 100% better...nice font, nice format, much tighter and more professional.
The letter, however, suffered some growing pains. I took it to a professor who, although I had only very limited experience with her, came highly recommended. The draft of my letter that she wrote (while I sat and watched...I swear, it's great being excluded from writing your own job process) bordered on science fiction...and not the good kind. Apparently, I use my classes as "inversion portals" or something like that. I have no idea exactly what an "inversion portal" is; it sounds like something off of Star Trek, but how that might fit in with my teaching, I have no idea.
So I tried a draft that combined whatever good elements existed in this sci-fi letter with my normal letter and took it to a co-worker. She liked it, so I went with it, and used it on my first 13 jobs. The results? Some trees died. Some woodland creatures had to find somewhere else to live. That's about it. I even bought some of the most expensive deluxe resume paper, hoping that might set me above the crowd, but the $25 per half ream paper also yielded no results.
Finally, I went to my work department office and grabbed a handful of job packets. We were running a search, and I figured out that the best advice I could get would be to see how actual job candidates were doing their stuff...why not, since they were my direct competition?
This was truly enlightening. For one, no one ever told me to use letterhead. Can you believe that? In all the people I asked for advice, this simple bit never came up. Also, research was always the second paragraph and took up 35% of the paper's length. I, after being told that I'd end up with a teaching position instead of a research job, minimized my research.
These are just two of the things that I had been doing wrong and no one had ever told me about. I wonder how many jobs I had lost because of no letterhead and minimal discussion of research.
The job market has been really tough for me, mostly because I've been doing a lot of the work completely on my own. My dissertation chair did a great job getting my diss through committee, but I never got much help on the job process from her...and now, I hardly see her and feel a bit abandoned. My department chair has been wonderful, but he has entirely too much stuff on his plate to really dedicate any consistent amount of attention to me. So everything has been trial and error, and I fear that the errors have cost me on more than one occasion.
I know I can be a great professor and a wonderful colleague. I like teaching, especially when I am allowed to get more involved in the subject and in my student's work than the business writing I currently teach allows. I feel I do good scholarship that will eventually earn a notable place in the academic arena, once I get a job which more greatly allows me to write. And in spite of the limitations of being a full time 5/4 teacher in a field outside my own, I think I've done a great job of everything, even above and beyond.
Making this all the more stressful is that I don't easily fit into an established field. I do the eighties, and this is not a standard academic field...or even area of concentration...or, for that matter, a topic...yet, that is. I have been told by many that the eighties will eventually end up being a hot academic area someday. It should...there's way too much fascinating stuff, and with the intersection of identity politics, postmodernism, and Reaganism, we should be talking about this stuff. As of now, we haven't got there yet. Soon, I hope.
I also do media studies, but there's not a tremendous number of those jobs out there. Many are film studies gigs, and for those, I just can't compete against film studies scholars. Others require production skills, and I don't have them. What's left is a small percentage of jobs where I can apply. I could also do Culture Studies jobs (and it is my preferred area), but there are even less of them. This means that in any given year, there's 15-20 good jobs out there. The odds are stacked against me. And although I applied for 21 this year, I only got a single phone interview.
In spite of this, I am very optimistic. There's a really good university press who's requested a book manuscript, and I have high hopes for that, ideally thinking I can get a contract by next October if all goes well. I have great ideas on how to revise several articles. I have several good articles on the go. One of these is a guaranteed publication. If even 10% of the irons I currently have in the fire work, I will be in great shape for next year's run.
On top of that, this past year has really taught me how to do a good resume and letter, even if that instruction came the hard way. My materials are now dynamite. I feel fully at ease with my application packet.
Get ready, world. 2008-2009 will be my year.
I also decided to revise my letter and vitae format significantly, so I sought advice from several sources. The cv is now 100% better...nice font, nice format, much tighter and more professional.
The letter, however, suffered some growing pains. I took it to a professor who, although I had only very limited experience with her, came highly recommended. The draft of my letter that she wrote (while I sat and watched...I swear, it's great being excluded from writing your own job process) bordered on science fiction...and not the good kind. Apparently, I use my classes as "inversion portals" or something like that. I have no idea exactly what an "inversion portal" is; it sounds like something off of Star Trek, but how that might fit in with my teaching, I have no idea.
So I tried a draft that combined whatever good elements existed in this sci-fi letter with my normal letter and took it to a co-worker. She liked it, so I went with it, and used it on my first 13 jobs. The results? Some trees died. Some woodland creatures had to find somewhere else to live. That's about it. I even bought some of the most expensive deluxe resume paper, hoping that might set me above the crowd, but the $25 per half ream paper also yielded no results.
Finally, I went to my work department office and grabbed a handful of job packets. We were running a search, and I figured out that the best advice I could get would be to see how actual job candidates were doing their stuff...why not, since they were my direct competition?
This was truly enlightening. For one, no one ever told me to use letterhead. Can you believe that? In all the people I asked for advice, this simple bit never came up. Also, research was always the second paragraph and took up 35% of the paper's length. I, after being told that I'd end up with a teaching position instead of a research job, minimized my research.
These are just two of the things that I had been doing wrong and no one had ever told me about. I wonder how many jobs I had lost because of no letterhead and minimal discussion of research.
The job market has been really tough for me, mostly because I've been doing a lot of the work completely on my own. My dissertation chair did a great job getting my diss through committee, but I never got much help on the job process from her...and now, I hardly see her and feel a bit abandoned. My department chair has been wonderful, but he has entirely too much stuff on his plate to really dedicate any consistent amount of attention to me. So everything has been trial and error, and I fear that the errors have cost me on more than one occasion.
I know I can be a great professor and a wonderful colleague. I like teaching, especially when I am allowed to get more involved in the subject and in my student's work than the business writing I currently teach allows. I feel I do good scholarship that will eventually earn a notable place in the academic arena, once I get a job which more greatly allows me to write. And in spite of the limitations of being a full time 5/4 teacher in a field outside my own, I think I've done a great job of everything, even above and beyond.
Making this all the more stressful is that I don't easily fit into an established field. I do the eighties, and this is not a standard academic field...or even area of concentration...or, for that matter, a topic...yet, that is. I have been told by many that the eighties will eventually end up being a hot academic area someday. It should...there's way too much fascinating stuff, and with the intersection of identity politics, postmodernism, and Reaganism, we should be talking about this stuff. As of now, we haven't got there yet. Soon, I hope.
I also do media studies, but there's not a tremendous number of those jobs out there. Many are film studies gigs, and for those, I just can't compete against film studies scholars. Others require production skills, and I don't have them. What's left is a small percentage of jobs where I can apply. I could also do Culture Studies jobs (and it is my preferred area), but there are even less of them. This means that in any given year, there's 15-20 good jobs out there. The odds are stacked against me. And although I applied for 21 this year, I only got a single phone interview.
In spite of this, I am very optimistic. There's a really good university press who's requested a book manuscript, and I have high hopes for that, ideally thinking I can get a contract by next October if all goes well. I have great ideas on how to revise several articles. I have several good articles on the go. One of these is a guaranteed publication. If even 10% of the irons I currently have in the fire work, I will be in great shape for next year's run.
On top of that, this past year has really taught me how to do a good resume and letter, even if that instruction came the hard way. My materials are now dynamite. I feel fully at ease with my application packet.
Get ready, world. 2008-2009 will be my year.
a crisis of delivery
So, I'm in the zone, I'm ready, I'm back in the "whenever I'm not in the classroom, I should be working" vibe. I feel good, I know what I'm doing, I'm confident. I am riding the writing/research wave, and I am hanging ten. All the other beachgoing-academics are swooning.
Of course, that's always the first sign, isn't it?
There are currently a large number of balls in the air, but the one I'm most concerned with is my Captain America article. I have every right to be concerned...it has the soonest and most absolute deadline.
So I read and reread the source materials enough to where I actually know my topic and argument...it took a little bit of time, since I haven't actually done any work with the fine Captain in four years, but I have it nailed, and it will be a good'un...notable, with the benefit of expanding my cv.
Of course, my argument fits in to my general scholarly theme of studying how identity works in a postmodern existence. Also, however, this paper is sending me to yet another field of theory--masculinity studies--where I don't have a whole lot of experience or knowledge backlog, but that's how things are working lately, so I expect that.
There's one of the industry-wide classics of theory in this field (Connell's Masculinities) which is listed so much as source material in my research, I feel I have to read it...it would be like ignoring Marx in a Marxist analysis if I miss it. But, thanks to the internet, you can order anything and have it on your doorstep in days...right?
I've got the book ordered, and I have a long weekend to start the drafting process...almost a full week, thanks to student online draft days. I'm in great shape. Then I realize that, even though it's been a few days, the book hasn't come yet. I check the fine print on Amazon, and it says "ships in three to six weeks."
AAARRRGGGHHH.
There's still time to recover, so last Wednesday, I order from half.com and select expedited shipping. This means I should get the book this Friday or Saturday. That still leaves all weekend, Monday, and Tuesday to draft. No problem...right?
On Saturday, I get an e-mail from the half.com seller...she can't ship the book until Monday...which means I wouldn't get it until Wednesday at the earliest.
AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
I cancel the order with her out of general spite, and, after online checking, find out that no one in 100 miles seems to have this very important book in stock. Barnes and Noble online, however, claims they can get it to me in a few days, but I'm still looking at Wednesday before I can start reading it...and only after that can I outline or draft.
Keep in mind my deadline is March 31, and you can see why I'm panicking. I thought I'd have a nice long binge draft session and then relatively relaxed revision. Instead, I lost a four day block of work time and will instead have to cram this together in a few days. This is made all the worse by Easter and the inevitable family visits the holiday entails...which I love, but they make my deadline a migrane.
It's just my life, I expect.
The weirdest thing about this snafu is that it gave me a weird weekend. I couldn't do any more work on this paper because I was missing a source. I didn't want to distract myself by working on something else, because my mind can no longer multitask several arguments...I lost that ability when I finished by coursework. And there's nothing built up on the TiVo to occupy my brain. This is why I spent part of Saturday night bored out of my skull and reading A Cricket in Times Square.
This is also why I can tell you the aforementioned Cricket book kicks Judy Blume's ass.
Ah, the joys of being a full time academic...drowning as a wave of unavoidable delays and setbacks crushes you against an outcropping of rocks.
Of course, that's always the first sign, isn't it?
There are currently a large number of balls in the air, but the one I'm most concerned with is my Captain America article. I have every right to be concerned...it has the soonest and most absolute deadline.
So I read and reread the source materials enough to where I actually know my topic and argument...it took a little bit of time, since I haven't actually done any work with the fine Captain in four years, but I have it nailed, and it will be a good'un...notable, with the benefit of expanding my cv.
Of course, my argument fits in to my general scholarly theme of studying how identity works in a postmodern existence. Also, however, this paper is sending me to yet another field of theory--masculinity studies--where I don't have a whole lot of experience or knowledge backlog, but that's how things are working lately, so I expect that.
There's one of the industry-wide classics of theory in this field (Connell's Masculinities) which is listed so much as source material in my research, I feel I have to read it...it would be like ignoring Marx in a Marxist analysis if I miss it. But, thanks to the internet, you can order anything and have it on your doorstep in days...right?
I've got the book ordered, and I have a long weekend to start the drafting process...almost a full week, thanks to student online draft days. I'm in great shape. Then I realize that, even though it's been a few days, the book hasn't come yet. I check the fine print on Amazon, and it says "ships in three to six weeks."
AAARRRGGGHHH.
There's still time to recover, so last Wednesday, I order from half.com and select expedited shipping. This means I should get the book this Friday or Saturday. That still leaves all weekend, Monday, and Tuesday to draft. No problem...right?
On Saturday, I get an e-mail from the half.com seller...she can't ship the book until Monday...which means I wouldn't get it until Wednesday at the earliest.
AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
I cancel the order with her out of general spite, and, after online checking, find out that no one in 100 miles seems to have this very important book in stock. Barnes and Noble online, however, claims they can get it to me in a few days, but I'm still looking at Wednesday before I can start reading it...and only after that can I outline or draft.
Keep in mind my deadline is March 31, and you can see why I'm panicking. I thought I'd have a nice long binge draft session and then relatively relaxed revision. Instead, I lost a four day block of work time and will instead have to cram this together in a few days. This is made all the worse by Easter and the inevitable family visits the holiday entails...which I love, but they make my deadline a migrane.
It's just my life, I expect.
The weirdest thing about this snafu is that it gave me a weird weekend. I couldn't do any more work on this paper because I was missing a source. I didn't want to distract myself by working on something else, because my mind can no longer multitask several arguments...I lost that ability when I finished by coursework. And there's nothing built up on the TiVo to occupy my brain. This is why I spent part of Saturday night bored out of my skull and reading A Cricket in Times Square.
This is also why I can tell you the aforementioned Cricket book kicks Judy Blume's ass.
Ah, the joys of being a full time academic...drowning as a wave of unavoidable delays and setbacks crushes you against an outcropping of rocks.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
proof that my work is indeed relevant
I'm eating lunch while prepping for a phone interview, and I'm experiencing something horrifying on television....a History Channel show called History Rocks. The concept of the show is a combination of Pop-Up Video and the standard reductive pseudo-documentary tv is famous for...particularly this channel.
This one's on the eighties. They started off with a bit on Pac Man...yes, the video game is the most important thing about the decade to these guys. {ac Man was, incidentally, covered while "Everybody Wang Chung" played. They just finished doing Black Monday to the strains of Foreigner's "Urgent," and after the break, it's the fall of the Berlin Wall to Twisted Sister's "We're Not Gonna Take It."
Ug. These people need me.
This one's on the eighties. They started off with a bit on Pac Man...yes, the video game is the most important thing about the decade to these guys. {ac Man was, incidentally, covered while "Everybody Wang Chung" played. They just finished doing Black Monday to the strains of Foreigner's "Urgent," and after the break, it's the fall of the Berlin Wall to Twisted Sister's "We're Not Gonna Take It."
Ug. These people need me.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
damn you, Bing Crosby
We had somewhere around 6" of snow. I live about 20 miles away from where I work. Naturally, this causes a problem.
I get up, and the spousal unit and I check the television and web to see if our work places are open. Hers has announced that they're closed until noon. She goes back to sleep. I go "grrrrr." and hop in the shower.
I make and pour coffee. It's 8am, and now, I'm awake. That's when my school decides to stay closed until noon. Caffeine is in my system now, so sleep is realistically an impossibility. I'm slightly peeved.
I go online and cancel my first wave of conferences. I get the standard web stuff done. I check into applying to the MLA's conference (it's the biggie for Lit types), but they make you join and pay the $80+ dues to even consider your proposal. I'm ticked.
Spousal unit gets up, and I gaze longingly at her for a while. Her school decides to close for the day, and she vows to wear pajamas for the entire time. I look out at the 6" of snow on our cars. I'm still ticked.
So I check my school's web site, and I have to dig to find anything...but still no notice of closing. So I go out and shovel off our cars and all the snow around them. I work steadily, but it's still that fun "you're outside, it's below freezing, and you're sweating" kind of work.
I come back inside, check the web, and NOW they've decided to close my workplace. Grrrrrrrrrrr.
This is all further fuel for my rampant paranoia, of course. And to make matters worse, after they finally decide I don't have to risk life and limb to work, THEN it quits snowing.
I get up, and the spousal unit and I check the television and web to see if our work places are open. Hers has announced that they're closed until noon. She goes back to sleep. I go "grrrrr." and hop in the shower.
I make and pour coffee. It's 8am, and now, I'm awake. That's when my school decides to stay closed until noon. Caffeine is in my system now, so sleep is realistically an impossibility. I'm slightly peeved.
I go online and cancel my first wave of conferences. I get the standard web stuff done. I check into applying to the MLA's conference (it's the biggie for Lit types), but they make you join and pay the $80+ dues to even consider your proposal. I'm ticked.
Spousal unit gets up, and I gaze longingly at her for a while. Her school decides to close for the day, and she vows to wear pajamas for the entire time. I look out at the 6" of snow on our cars. I'm still ticked.
So I check my school's web site, and I have to dig to find anything...but still no notice of closing. So I go out and shovel off our cars and all the snow around them. I work steadily, but it's still that fun "you're outside, it's below freezing, and you're sweating" kind of work.
I come back inside, check the web, and NOW they've decided to close my workplace. Grrrrrrrrrrr.
This is all further fuel for my rampant paranoia, of course. And to make matters worse, after they finally decide I don't have to risk life and limb to work, THEN it quits snowing.
a strange serenity in face of the storm clouds
I am so horrifically overworked right now, I should be in absolute panic. I have a month to finish an article for a contracted book. I have another article I'm co-writing with a friend. I have two articles that need revision and resubmitting. I have two more articles in various stages of the process...one of which I have to then convert into a book chapter. And then I have the big book revision project.
Not to mention, of course, the joys of teaching 4 classes...one online comp I and three business writing sections.
However, I'm strangely at peace. I am actively researching and writing...with only minimal tv immersion/screw off periods. I think I can actually make all my deadlines. I have faith.
Not two weeks ago, I was in depressive/"the world is going to end" mode...in other words, I was acting like my brother. However, I got in succession potential good news on both the book and the job hunt...nothing I can discuss right now, but it's a real lift to have some actual validation, some recognition that your efforts are in fact appreciated. You can bet that if there's any progress I can discuss, you'll here it here.
Damn, I'm actually only one step away from breaking into the whole "ant can't pull a rubber tree plant" routine.
Not to mention, of course, the joys of teaching 4 classes...one online comp I and three business writing sections.
However, I'm strangely at peace. I am actively researching and writing...with only minimal tv immersion/screw off periods. I think I can actually make all my deadlines. I have faith.
Not two weeks ago, I was in depressive/"the world is going to end" mode...in other words, I was acting like my brother. However, I got in succession potential good news on both the book and the job hunt...nothing I can discuss right now, but it's a real lift to have some actual validation, some recognition that your efforts are in fact appreciated. You can bet that if there's any progress I can discuss, you'll here it here.
Damn, I'm actually only one step away from breaking into the whole "ant can't pull a rubber tree plant" routine.
rolling frames
Last Thursday was the lovely spousal unit's birthday. To celebrate, we had a bowling extravaganza on Saturday. The main thing we learned? Proficiency at Wii bowling does not really translate to the real world.
I didn't get the hang of it right away...my first 6 balls were all gutters. Of course, when we had 10 minutes left on our lane, I started throwing strikes. My dad was a great bowler, which makes my own ineptness at the sport that much more disappointing.
As we were leaving, I thanked some of our friends for coming, because my spousal unit would've been heart-broken if people didn't show up. The response? "we couldn't break her heart...that would be like slaughtering puppies."
I didn't get the hang of it right away...my first 6 balls were all gutters. Of course, when we had 10 minutes left on our lane, I started throwing strikes. My dad was a great bowler, which makes my own ineptness at the sport that much more disappointing.
As we were leaving, I thanked some of our friends for coming, because my spousal unit would've been heart-broken if people didn't show up. The response? "we couldn't break her heart...that would be like slaughtering puppies."
Monday, February 18, 2008
Friday, February 15, 2008
a momentary boost to a poor ego
I've been asked to write an article on Captain America prose novels for a contracted book. While doing research today, I typed in "Captain America" into the search engine of one of the library's research databases, and my Journal of Popular Culture article was the first one to come up! It briefly made me feel famous.
Also, there has been some acknowledgment of my scholarly existence! If anything ever comes of it, you can bet you'll hear it here.
Also, there has been some acknowledgment of my scholarly existence! If anything ever comes of it, you can bet you'll hear it here.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
don't trust the gub'ment
In my initial preparations for tax filing, I was running through the 1040A and found out there's several things that annoy me.
I teach college. Specifically, I do writing. Many of the things I teach are the type of things that, if they were any good, most high schools should really teach. Should one be able to finish public education and still have to ask: What's an argument?
So I was pleased when I saw that there is a slot for educational teaching expenses. However, since I do college, I don't qualify...never mind the fact that I do so much high school-appropriate stuff.
Also, the spousal unit did have to pay tuition this year, and I know I can claim that. However, according to the form, I can claim it in one of three different ways. Obviously, I was confused, so I called the IRS, and after hearing the same classical "hold" music for twenty aggravating minutes, they told me that there's no real guideline as to which one I should use, and I should really just do all three and find out what works.
Now, I am a supporter of the graduated income tax, but c'mon... This just kind of reinforces my dream that the IRS must really be a dungeon, with dungeonmaster figures managing the phones, letting out maniacal laughs whenever they're able to fully and utterly confuse or torture someone.
I teach college. Specifically, I do writing. Many of the things I teach are the type of things that, if they were any good, most high schools should really teach. Should one be able to finish public education and still have to ask: What's an argument?
So I was pleased when I saw that there is a slot for educational teaching expenses. However, since I do college, I don't qualify...never mind the fact that I do so much high school-appropriate stuff.
Also, the spousal unit did have to pay tuition this year, and I know I can claim that. However, according to the form, I can claim it in one of three different ways. Obviously, I was confused, so I called the IRS, and after hearing the same classical "hold" music for twenty aggravating minutes, they told me that there's no real guideline as to which one I should use, and I should really just do all three and find out what works.
Now, I am a supporter of the graduated income tax, but c'mon... This just kind of reinforces my dream that the IRS must really be a dungeon, with dungeonmaster figures managing the phones, letting out maniacal laughs whenever they're able to fully and utterly confuse or torture someone.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
rooting for the monsters
Last night, several friends, the spousal unit, and I went to see the movie Cloverfield....one friend described it as "Blair Witch meets Godzilla."
For those of you who haven't been exposed to the mega amounts of hype, the premise is that the movie is supposed to be the retrieved film from the minicam of a New Yorker taken as the city is attacked by some giant monster. As such, it's supposed to be "the average person's point of view of a major calamity" kind of thing.
The film starts off with the "let's set up the character" stuff. One of the major characters, it seems, is about to move to Tokyo for a job or something, and his brother and friends are throwing a going away party. There's some subplot with him and a girl whom he has loved for years. It doesn't matter, really. The set-up went on for about twenty minutes, and although it was supposed to build our sympathy for the characters, it instead made me wish that the monster would hurry up, attack these people, and make them die slowly and painfully.
The humans were all annoying. They were the "hey, we're in our mid twenties, unbelievably rich, thin, and spoiled, and we're partying yet can still cry when our stupid little boyhood crushes go bad" types. They were stupid. They were petty. I wanted them to suffer.
Then the monster attacks NY. Everyone runs to the roof, and when debris started to fly, everyone ran to the street. A building collapsed/exploded, and the crowds scattered. Some of the major characters found refuge in a store before the clouds of smoke, dust, and crap hit.
Right then, I started to feel dramatically uncomfortable. I wondered how a 9/11 survivor watching this film would feel about their experiences being ripped off and regurgitated so the viewer can feel sympathy for spoiled brat 20 year olds who have Central Park-overlooking apartments.
It went on. The characters never became likable. We only really got limited exposure to the monster. We never figured out what it was all supposed to be about.
There's nothing wrong with wanting to focus on the small scale stories instead of adopting a big picture view. Hell, in most cases, the desire to look at the details, at the humanity, would be appealing and gutsy. The problem with this film is that the humanity we did get to see was annoying, the horror was hidden, and the big picture was non-existent. Unfortunately, while many of the lead characters died, they did so in quick, non-pain-filled ways instead of slow and horribly, which is what they deserved.
When the closing credits started, one film-goer let out a loud "That's it?" As we left, I heard another say "That's the worst movie I actually saw in the theaters." Personally, I wanted to make the filmmakers sit down and watch Godzilla 2000 to see that monster movies do not have to suck. It also made me aware that any piece of crap can be hyped into being the "best selling movie of the week."
Avoid this film, unless you just have excess time to kill, money to blow, and incredibly low standards.
For those of you who haven't been exposed to the mega amounts of hype, the premise is that the movie is supposed to be the retrieved film from the minicam of a New Yorker taken as the city is attacked by some giant monster. As such, it's supposed to be "the average person's point of view of a major calamity" kind of thing.
The film starts off with the "let's set up the character" stuff. One of the major characters, it seems, is about to move to Tokyo for a job or something, and his brother and friends are throwing a going away party. There's some subplot with him and a girl whom he has loved for years. It doesn't matter, really. The set-up went on for about twenty minutes, and although it was supposed to build our sympathy for the characters, it instead made me wish that the monster would hurry up, attack these people, and make them die slowly and painfully.
The humans were all annoying. They were the "hey, we're in our mid twenties, unbelievably rich, thin, and spoiled, and we're partying yet can still cry when our stupid little boyhood crushes go bad" types. They were stupid. They were petty. I wanted them to suffer.
Then the monster attacks NY. Everyone runs to the roof, and when debris started to fly, everyone ran to the street. A building collapsed/exploded, and the crowds scattered. Some of the major characters found refuge in a store before the clouds of smoke, dust, and crap hit.
Right then, I started to feel dramatically uncomfortable. I wondered how a 9/11 survivor watching this film would feel about their experiences being ripped off and regurgitated so the viewer can feel sympathy for spoiled brat 20 year olds who have Central Park-overlooking apartments.
It went on. The characters never became likable. We only really got limited exposure to the monster. We never figured out what it was all supposed to be about.
There's nothing wrong with wanting to focus on the small scale stories instead of adopting a big picture view. Hell, in most cases, the desire to look at the details, at the humanity, would be appealing and gutsy. The problem with this film is that the humanity we did get to see was annoying, the horror was hidden, and the big picture was non-existent. Unfortunately, while many of the lead characters died, they did so in quick, non-pain-filled ways instead of slow and horribly, which is what they deserved.
When the closing credits started, one film-goer let out a loud "That's it?" As we left, I heard another say "That's the worst movie I actually saw in the theaters." Personally, I wanted to make the filmmakers sit down and watch Godzilla 2000 to see that monster movies do not have to suck. It also made me aware that any piece of crap can be hyped into being the "best selling movie of the week."
Avoid this film, unless you just have excess time to kill, money to blow, and incredibly low standards.
a loss in Bowling Green
For a while, I doubted that she even exist. She was the thing of legends, of stories. Everyone else I knew had seen her, but whenever I was in the area, she seemed to have vanished.
It is in downtown Bowling Green where she was rumored to hang out, in the window of a corner in a downtown store which I would often pass yet never enter. Indeed, it was a strange place for a rumor, a legend, but that's were they said she stayed.
She was Window Kitty. In the window of a craft/scrapbook store, the owners set up a mini bed for their store cat. Window Kitty had free reign of the store, but she slept in her window bed, and people would stop, double take, then stare and "aww" over the cute little cat in the store window.
Or, at least, that's what everyone told me happened. For my part, years passed of walking to dinner, walking to the library, or walking to the bar, and each time, I would head past the downtown store in hopes of seeing her...but she was never there, apparently content to wander the aisles every time I was in the area instead of posing and being cute for my convenience.
For the longest time, I doubted. I suspected a conspiracy, that everyone was in league in a conspiracy to make me hunt for cats that weren't there. Then I wondered if said kitty really did exist but consciously avoided me. Maybe Window Kitty had spies that told her "Hey, Mike is coming" and then hid in response.
One day, I saw a sign in the window, telling passers-by that yes, this was a real cat, and please stop banging on the window. Still, however, the actual Window Kitty eluded me.
This went on for years, and I got more paranoid and hurt with each failure to see Kitty.
Early last Fall, I was walking to my favorite downtown tavern, and something in the window caught my eye. It was a sleeping cat, and she was gorgeous. Window Kitty was real! Moreover, she decided to take pity on me bless me with her presence.
Every time thereafter, whenever I would be downtown, I would look, and Window Kitty would be there. She became a landmark for me, a reminder of BG in this time.
Last night, the spousal unit and I were going to eat downtown, and we passed Window Kitty's window...yet there was no cat bed. We looked in the window, and there was a new sign.
Window Kitty, the sign said, had passed on. The sign said to not be sad, because Window Kitty was undoubtedly now sleeping in heaven's window, purring up a storm.
Goodbye, Window Kitty. I'm sorry I never went in to pet you, but I'm glad I got to see you. Downtown Bowling Green will never be the same without your purr.
It is in downtown Bowling Green where she was rumored to hang out, in the window of a corner in a downtown store which I would often pass yet never enter. Indeed, it was a strange place for a rumor, a legend, but that's were they said she stayed.
She was Window Kitty. In the window of a craft/scrapbook store, the owners set up a mini bed for their store cat. Window Kitty had free reign of the store, but she slept in her window bed, and people would stop, double take, then stare and "aww" over the cute little cat in the store window.
Or, at least, that's what everyone told me happened. For my part, years passed of walking to dinner, walking to the library, or walking to the bar, and each time, I would head past the downtown store in hopes of seeing her...but she was never there, apparently content to wander the aisles every time I was in the area instead of posing and being cute for my convenience.
For the longest time, I doubted. I suspected a conspiracy, that everyone was in league in a conspiracy to make me hunt for cats that weren't there. Then I wondered if said kitty really did exist but consciously avoided me. Maybe Window Kitty had spies that told her "Hey, Mike is coming" and then hid in response.
One day, I saw a sign in the window, telling passers-by that yes, this was a real cat, and please stop banging on the window. Still, however, the actual Window Kitty eluded me.
This went on for years, and I got more paranoid and hurt with each failure to see Kitty.
Early last Fall, I was walking to my favorite downtown tavern, and something in the window caught my eye. It was a sleeping cat, and she was gorgeous. Window Kitty was real! Moreover, she decided to take pity on me bless me with her presence.
Every time thereafter, whenever I would be downtown, I would look, and Window Kitty would be there. She became a landmark for me, a reminder of BG in this time.
Last night, the spousal unit and I were going to eat downtown, and we passed Window Kitty's window...yet there was no cat bed. We looked in the window, and there was a new sign.
Window Kitty, the sign said, had passed on. The sign said to not be sad, because Window Kitty was undoubtedly now sleeping in heaven's window, purring up a storm.
Goodbye, Window Kitty. I'm sorry I never went in to pet you, but I'm glad I got to see you. Downtown Bowling Green will never be the same without your purr.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
this just in...
Puxsutawney Phil saw his shadow. More winter, folks. However, I'm still up for celebrating Groundhog's Day, that most Freudian of all holidays.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
I want candy...
We had some friends over last night (tv night!), and here's an actual snippet of the conversation:
friend 1: I love M&Ms...they have the perfect kind of chocolate.
me: Of course, M&Ms are better when you only eat the same colored ones and pretend that they're pills of some sort, like amphetamines.
friend 2: I do that too!
friend 3: I sort them out by color, but then I eat one of one color, one of the next color, one of the next color, and go around like that.
This explains a lot, no?
friend 1: I love M&Ms...they have the perfect kind of chocolate.
me: Of course, M&Ms are better when you only eat the same colored ones and pretend that they're pills of some sort, like amphetamines.
friend 2: I do that too!
friend 3: I sort them out by color, but then I eat one of one color, one of the next color, one of the next color, and go around like that.
This explains a lot, no?
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
reservations
In case any of you are curious after reading my post last year or hearing me and the spousal unit talk about it, White Castle is doing their Valentine's Day candlelight dinners again. Get your reservations quickly...the spouse and I are all set.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
another in the long line of stupid commercial products
While I was at the grocery store waiting on my prescription, I saw, in my wanderings, some company that's making something called...wait for it..."artificial honey." What's even worse is that it was, for some inexplicable reason, grapefruit flavored.
It's the consumer industry gone horribly awry, and it makes me want to reconsider communism.
It's the consumer industry gone horribly awry, and it makes me want to reconsider communism.
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