cycling


17
Oct 25

Scenes from a bike ride

It was work work work. And at the end of the day, we took a bike ride.

There she goes, trying to get away from me.

And there I am, trying to keep up with her.

And there’s my lovely bride trying to pull away again.

We passed another guy on the road. He was on the wrong side of the road at the time. We passed him again as we headed back. Happily he was pointed the correct way that time.

Cruising by some corn stalks.

And some lovely silhouettes.

That’s where the weekend begins. And with some more grading tonight. So I’ll get to that, and you can pass the time enjoying the latest entries in Catober.


15
Oct 25

No one, absolutely no one, likes a censor

After a full day’s worth of working in the home office, we went out for a brief bike ride. I’m still taking it easy, so I did not push hard on the pedals, except when going uphill. And I stayed out of the drops, until the very end of the ride, when I decided to see what that’d feel like. I quickly decided to not do that. My back and I are in careful and close consultation throughout this recovery period.

We saw the sheep, though.

Then, just a few miles from home, we lost the sun.

A few farms later, we found it once again.

It was a 14-mile ride. And another easy one. It was just nice to be outside. Perfect gilet weather, too.

Last night a colleague in Texas shared with me a photo from a mutual colleague in Indiana, which I am assured is a real place, though I’ve never heard of it. The photo was a letter, an incredibly abrasive pink slip. The recipient of that letter had shared it himself, and this was part of a series of events that will be a national story by tomorrow, or Friday at the latest.

What happened, the student media adviser at Indiana University was fired. The incendiary letter framed the dismissal as a “lack of leadership and ability to work in alignment with the University’s direction for the Student Media Plan is unacceptable,” but this is a move toward censorship. My colleague was fired for doing his job: standing in defense against censorship.

Here’s the first story written in the professional Indy Star, fittingly written by First Amendment reporter Cate Charron, a former editor-in-chief of the IDS. And, most importantly, here are the current editors of the highly regarded, and directly impacted, Indiana Daily Student.

Media School Dean David Tolchinsky terminated Director of Student Media Jim Rodenbush on Tuesday afternoon after he refused to censor the Indiana Daily Student.

Ahead of our Oct. 16 newspaper, which was to include a Homecoming guide inside, the Media School directed us to print no news in the paper, an order blatantly in defiance of our editorial independence and the Student Media Charter.

“… nothing but information about homecoming — no other news at all, and particularly no traditional front page news coverage,” read Rodenbush’s Oct. 7 email to the IDS co-editors-in-chief, relaying the IU Media School’s directive.

Telling us what we can and cannot print is unlawful censorship, established by legal precedent surrounding speech law on public college campuses.

Administrators ignored Rodenbush, who said he would not tell us what to print or not print in our paper. In a meeting Sept. 25 with administrators, he said doing so would be censorship.

“How do we frame that, you know, in a way that’s not seen as censorship?” Ron McFall, assistant dean of strategy and administration at the Media School, asked in that meeting.

Read the whole thing; it’s quite the stinging letter aimed at the Media School and the university as a whole.

We’ve been gone from there for two-plus years, so I know the prologue, but not the details of what’s transpired recently. I know what I’ve read, how the faculty have no trust in the university president, how everyone on campus still has an acid taste in their mouths after being under a sniper rifle last year, how the university is desperately trying to make the president’s plagiarism problem go away, and how the university is intent on reshaping itself in modern social contexts. (Indiana is a long, long, long way from Herman B. Wells.) I know those things from following the work of the IU student media.

I also know those people. Rodenbush, the now fired adviser, I worked alongside for about five years. That dean? I gave him a tour of the Media School when he was applying for the job. The last quote from that other guy? That quote makes perfect sense coming from him. Go read that again.

There are others in the Media School apparently involved, who are, frankly, not worth the time to type about.

Much will be made of budget issues. In the last few years, for budget reasons, the paper has endured staff cuts and slashed production runs. But student newsrooms are first and foremost learning laboratories. You must allow the students the opportunity to learn to produce so that they are adequately, appropriately, prepared. The building that houses the IDS has a tremendous print newsroom, three television studios, a half-dozen or so podcast studios and even more editing suites. You teach people their craft in these spaces. And, at Indiana, they have always learned it well. I can’t tell you how many Hearst Awards have been won under the IDS masthead, or how many Pulitzer Prize careers the newspaper has launched in its 158 years.

I can tell you this. Now, for editorial reasons, they’re killing the newsprint altogether. Hours after they fired Rodenbush, the university canceled the paper’s print run.

This is a laughable demonstration of university censorship, by any measure. This was a letter the editors wrote today:

The Media School is more focused on censorship than real solutions for student media. Is this really the best use of the university’s resources? Or of ours? Editorial decisions, including the contents of our print product, firmly lie in the hands of the students.

This is not about print. This is about a breach of editorial independence. If IU decides certain types of content are “bad for business,” what stops them from prohibiting stories that hold them to account on our other platforms?

None of this surprises me. I worked in student media for 15 years, including at IU. I defended outlets against censorship, including at IU. I know the low regard that some in The Media School have for student media. There’s often a tension between student media and a university administration, particularly an administration of small caliber. All of this is sad and unfortunate and inappropriate and illegal, but it is not unpredictable.

Jim Rodenbush, who is a real pro, knew this was turning bad. His firing is unfortunate for him and his family, but he’s a great colleague and good at what he does; he won’t be down long.

The student-journalists at IU will suffer. In fact, they already are.

Think of them. They are college students. They have a full course load. Some of them work jobs. They also have lives and responsibilities and their own amusements and problems. They spend some (sometimes a lot) of their free time learning their craft in student-media. They do this in public. They learn in public. They make their mistakes in public. They are often very impressive. They deserve respect. Instead, these people, at 20- or 21-years old feel as if they have targets on their backs. placed there by university and school administrators, people that seemingly do not understand journalism, censorship, the First Amendment, or the true value of student-journalists.

The student body, indeed, the city itself will lose out. Bloomington is almost a newspaper desert at this point. Public media, devastated nationally, is under all sorts of transitions on that campus — who knows what becomes of that. Major media is an hour up the road.

And now, the famed Indiana Daily Student — the third largest employer on campus, winner of 25 Pacemaker Awards (the collegiate equivalent of the Pulitzer Prize) and previously an incredible recruiting tool — has been reduced to a website and an app.

Letters are being written. IDS alumni are distributing a joint protest letter for signatures. There’s a formal alumni association letter in the works. The journalism faculty will speak up soon, I assume. The name of the great Ernie Pyle, the most famous IDS alumnus, will be invoked. The Student Press Law Center is poised. The story has just begun.

Students will cover it.


13
Oct 25

Recovery began right away

I’m feeling fine, thanks. I had a little procedure Friday. Because there was a cutting implement and blood and gauze and stitches, I’m calling it a surgery. Look, I walked out of the room and to the car and had lunch after, so clearly no big deal. It was a dermatology thing, removing a small spot on my back. So I had back surgery. That’s how I’ll tell the tale. It was a preemptive sort of thing. They put some gauze and tape on me, I pulled my t-shirt on, and they re-taped it because that move loosened the tape.

This has been the extent of it. I woke up Saturday and felt pretty terrible. It’d been probably 12 or so hours since I’d taken any Tylenol and I tend to sleep on that side. So once a new OTC dose kicked in and I started moving around, it was fine.

In the medium term, I can’t do anything that involves a lot of exertion for two to four weeks. In the short term that has meant discovering which movements don’t hurt. Nothing too big and sweeping. Also, no sudden movements. And don’t pick up anything heavier than a gallon of milk. So, eight pounds. And I can’t lift and bend anything. So I’ll put my empty backpack on a chair or table, and then put my computer in it and that’ll be about it. And also the cats.

Not in my bag, just in general. I’ll pick up the cats.

In the long term the location of this incision is the primary problem. It is very near the shoulder blade. Now, for the purposes of wound healing, just imagine how much you use your arms and shoulders in a day.

But it feels OK. At its worst it feels like a sharply pulled muscle. In a way, it is very similar to that. And while it is in a tricky spot, the incision is helpful in letting me know if I am about to do too much. So I’m not doing too much.

You can, I’ve learned, sit awkwardly on it. That’s no fun.

Anyway, stitches out in 12 days. And then whatever new restrictions or limitations I’m given.

Of course, I was on my bike the next day. I am a cyclist. We came home from the skin pro’s office and I stood over my bike, just to see what it’d feel like. They said no heavy exertion. You’re not supposed to move around a lot on your bike anyway. I figured I would soft pedal, keep my hands on the hoods or at the stem, because if I went down to the drops that’d change my body position and might involve a flexing of the shoulders and back. So Saturday I clipped in and went around the loop our house is on, fully committed to go back inside if it felt bad. It felt fine.

I rode around on some neighborhood roads, just to be outside and say I pedaled a little bit that day. I got in about 10 miles. It was 40 minutes or so and I didn’t even work up a sweat. (You’re just going to have to let me do something over the course of two to four weeks, and this I can do.) Also, for that first day, I chose quite neighborhood roads that looked like this.

I went over and checked on the horses.

Also, I saw their neigh-boring friend.

And I noted that one of our other neighbors, who has a nice little herd of cattle, has stocked up the hay barn.

That was it. A super easy spin the day after back surgery. (We’re calling it that.) If I become a legendary athlete, we’ll point to this as one of those defining moments in my story.

More likely, we’ll just be looking at the flowers — but you never know.

This bush does not stop, and I respect its output a great deal.

And the bush daisy still looks wonderfully inspired.

We have this small planter hanging on the fence that cordons off the little vegetable garden. This year, despite however many seeds we put into the thing, it gave us nothing until just now, this beautiful little specimen. I’m glad I stopped by for a closer look.

And now, back to work. We’re talking about two new stories in my criticism class tomorrow, and audiences in org comm. I have decided to turn my dislike for fans, some of ’em anyway, into a comical presentation about social identity theory. So I have to finish those notes, and find the gaudiest team gear I have, to help prove the point.


9
Oct 25

Classes and bicycle clicks

Once again, a quickish post, because that is the theme of late. It is a necessary theme. Why, I do not really understand, but it just is.

We’re entering a little podcast section of the criticism in sport media course. Today was our first. They’ll listen to a different style of production next week. And, two weeks from today we’ll have a little midterm exercise on a third style of podcast. After which, we will move back into video products. By then we’ll also be halfway through the term, and I am hoping we’ll start turning a corner into some real critical analysis. But, today, we discussed this.

It was clear that some people actually listened to this episode. And not all of them especially liked it.

There are six or eight general styles of podcast, this sits in perhaps two of those little worlds, and it is well done. Also, the story is a good one, and it is well produced. But it didn’t land to the degree that I’d hoped. One key task in teaching media criticism is to convince people of the need and value of critical analysis even when it’s not your favorite subject matter. The episode above is the final installment of a four-part serial about money in college basketball. The exploitation and the exploited. That should be fairly mainstream for a sports media audience. The podcast they’ll listen to next week is a bit more of a back-and-forth talk show. Maybe that’ll solve our problems.

In the org comm class I returned the students into their groups — they are running a fantasy football league as part of the class — and pretended to be their GM, telling them each to nominate and pitch one of their players as a feature story for Monday Night Football. At the end of the class they all gave a give spiel. Then we all voted on the best one. One group got a few extra points for having the best story and best pitch, almost by unanimous consent. And, truthfully, they were ready to help the MNF producers tell a great story.

When we got home this evening my lovely bride told me to go on a bike ride. I do what I’m told. She had to go do something else, but I got to pedal away into the early evening air.

Normally, I would avoid or crop or otherwise edit a little power line out of my photos, but I liked the way the sunlight was bouncing sharply off the underside of this one.

And my timing was just right, such that i got a terrific shadow selfie. I’ve almost got the technique here down, as you can see.

It was just a little 50-something minute ride, through and around town, but I was grateful for the chance to get out and do it. (Thanks, hon!)

This is going up the little hill where our subdivision is. So, once again, I was able to time this out pretty well. Power lines notwithstanding.

That’s it. Tomorrow will be less fun than this, but at least it starts the weekend!


7
Oct 25

I reference dramatic reality, undramatically

This is a reminder that this is a light week, because of working events. But Catober is here to amuse you. But there are about 800 words here and four photographs from yesterday’s bike ride. So, yeah, light week.

In my criticism in sport media class we examined two different kinds of stories. The students selected these. One of them was this incredible piece from CNN: ‘Harmed, outed, scrutinized’: How new sex testing rules affect athletes:

Just like Ajok and Imali, a raft of athletes will no longer be allowed to compete in the women’s category at the World Athletics Championships, which are currently taking place in Tokyo, Japan.

Track and field body WA announced earlier this year that beginning from September 1, anyone wanting to compete in the “female category” of its elite events would be required to take a “once-in-a-lifetime test” in the form of a cheek swab or blood test that will screen athletes’ genetic samples. This will determine whether they contain the SRY gene – or “a genetic surrogate for a Y chromosome” – according to the organization.

The decision comes following a World Athletics Council meeting where, along with a raft of other policy changes, the council agreed to adopt multiple recommended conditions of “eligibility in the female category,” WA confirmed in a press release.

The World Athletics Championships hosted something like 2,200 competitors from almost 200 countries and teams. Not everyone, of course, was subjected to this strict scrutiny. It’s an in-depth story that does a nice job explaining this process and some of the biological information to people who aren’t expected to be experts. I wish my lovely bride wasn’t teaching in another building at the same time as that class, because this subject has become one of her primary areas of research expertise. I am not an expert in this area, which meant I had to learn a lot the last few days. The class handled the conversation with interest and care. I was pleased to see what we got out of the story, from a critiquing point of view.

We also discussed this other story which didn’t offer us a lot. But I was able to get in several points about how all stories aren’t created in the same way, some of them aren’t going to have all of the features (or conspicuously lack them) when we’re doing a critique. I turned it into a criticism of Sports Illustrated in general. Because there’s always some context to understand, somewhere. And maybe that’s a note that will seep in over the course of the semester.

We started talking about storytelling in org comm today. Presumably I have a little expertise in this area. There were 14 or 15 slides to digest, getting into the different kinds of stories we receive from the media, our different levels of participation and sociality, fan-centered media messaging and the structures of dramatic reality storytelling. (The by-the-book version requires a story to have drama, adversity, crisis, mentors, persistence and a final reward to be a dramatic reality.)

Here’s a video I showed them that included all of those things and Da Coach O, in under four minutes.

The class will have to put some of that in to practice on Thursday, but they don’t know that yet. So don’t tell.

Here are a few shots from yesterday’s ride, which was a slow, 21-mile tour of some new roads, and some old roads. You can really see the passage of time here, which could be seasonal, or about an afternoon, depending on your meaning.

I love these yellowing cover crops.

On a road I think I’ve been on just once or twice before, we have a discovery for the Barns By Bike catalog.

And on a nearby stretch of road, which I think was entirely new to me, another.

I found myself up a hill, over some bumps, around a bend and taking a left turn. I figured I would just ride that a certain amount and then turnaround. The easy part is getting lost. The difficult part is retracing my steps if there are too many turns. So as I pedaled along some scenic, tree covered roads dotted by a cemetery here and a neighborhood there, I was trying to play the map out in my head: I’m going, roughly, east and this should dump me out … where?

Eventually I got to a stop sign and, considering the amount of daylight I had left, and what I wanted to do with it, decided to turn around and start my hustle for home. It was delightful. Three empty roads and one of them wide open with fields on either side and the only sound was the sound of my tires on the road. I got back to a little crossroads community I know well, turned right and started racing home.

As I got close, this was one of my last views.

I made it in just before dark, and hopeful I can go out again soon. Maybe for some more old roads, maybe for some new ones.