Indiana


11
Apr 18

Makes you wanna ride bikes – if you can get off the sofa

Someone brought their bike into the building today.

You’re not supposed to do that. But I do enjoy seeing a good bicycle every now and then. That’s a Little 500 bike, which is a neat treat in general, just not in the building, where it could be a tripping hazard or a wall-marking hazard or a theft-of-property hazard.

Seriously, someone left it outside a closed classroom. People are trusting, which is nice.

Outside? Spring?

On Monday morning, snow. And it was the sort of thing no one even mentioned. We were all so bored with it and over it. It wasn’t surprising to wake up to. It was inevitable. No one was even irritated by the absurdity of it anymore. Snow in mid-April. Then it melted, things started blooming and that evening I ran in layers and gloves.

This evening I ran in shorts and a t-shirt and was already warm in the driveway, before setting out for a quick 5K. Already warm. It was 62° degrees.

So I’m putting a question mark next to spring from now on.

Allie, is, also, over it:

And, look, when I tell The Yankee that the six-pound cat is holding me down, I really mean it:


6
Apr 18

Still conferencing in Nashville

Yesterday mass comm, today student work and poli comm. That’s the way of things, and so today I presented student work from The Media School, and from the programs at Middle Tennessee State and East Tennessee State University at the SSCA digital showcase.

And then we took a selfie:

Also, I responded to the top student papers in the political communication division. One of them was an analysis of the 2016 RNC speech. Another looked at the charisma in presidential campaign speeches. (It looked at the texts alone, which seemed a limited choice.) The third looked at the great Shirley Chisholm. These were graduate students and so you want to give them good feedback. I hope I did that.

And tonight I finally got a piece of Prince’s hot chicken. We went to a place that sold it as a part of their own menu. And the restaurant gave me one piece with my chicken and waffles. It was hot. And tasty!

(It’s the one on the right.) Now, it might not be the hottest. And I’m a spice wimp, but it was hot. And good. By the time I finished that piece I … I wasn’t used to it, but I’d come to terms with it, I guess. One of our friends said to me “Kenny, you’re glistening.”

At that precise moment I had started wondering whether I was perspiring or my eyes were watering.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
It was hard to tell.

A sign we found in a restaurant at breakfast:

And now I want some more Prince’s hot chicken. Or barbecue.


3
Apr 18

The weather is better, almost springlike even

It is warmer today, and sunny. So that’s better than yesterday. But I saw this at one of the nearby sandwich shops.

So I am not, as they say, shook.

So I went back into the studio. I played with the jib and made visual composition jokes:

No jokes here, its an important and serious and informative podcast we created today. Dominick Jean is a smart guy like that:

A late night show some of our students produced:

And their news show:

So much media!


2
Apr 18

Speaking of April fools

It snowed yesterday. This being spring, and that being the first day of April it made perfect sense:

And it stuck around until this morning and this afternoon.

This being spring, after all. Last night’s snow was the third we’ve had this spring and the fourth or fifth since these guys came out of the ground …

Better to stay inside, curl up and be warm indoors. Because its spring and all that. Here’s a podcast we did for today. It has to do with sports, primarily basketball, which is played indoors.

Also, it’s a good day to cuddle up to the black cat, who, I’m pretty sure, just wants warmer weather. And tuna:

A show the sports crew produced last week and released yesterday:


13
Mar 18

Everything is local, except Perth, Australia

Spencer Elliott came back to the podcast today to talk about the “buy local” marketing phenomenon. He started all of this out with a little anecdote designed for my neck of the woods …

Little could he know that Milo’s has become a too-important part of my routine these days. It’s a little bit of home. Indeed, the stuff is brewed just eight miles from where I grew up. I can plot out three routes from A to B without thinking about it and there was a time I could have probably driven the thing with my eyes closed.

I’ve never done that, because I drink tea and that keeps me awake. It’s an expression. But, then, so is the phrase “Buy local” and its many derivatives. The point is a clever marketing of something here at home. Makes you feel good. Propping up the local economy. Sometimes to the tune of millions of dollars, as Elliott explained.

But, he said, there are no tea plantations in Alabama. Fair enough, but I’m assuming that water — and I don’t know anything about their actual production — ran down Muscoda Hill and directly into some fanciful and terrific tea cistern they have on site.

Why, look, they put it right out front!

Obviously that’s a drainage system. In point of fact the taste comes from the red clay, it gets into everything else, may as well be mixed with the international tea leaf blend.

Anyway, fun show. It wasn’t all about tea. I tried to ask of him all of the questions a shopper might ask. To do that I imagined myself at a grocery store, standing next to a guy who knew about this stuff and was ready to answer every nagging thought and worry and concern I had about things from produce to artisanally stirred, fair trade stomped, sustainably green LEED certified, child labor law obeying, down the street pasta sauce some fictitious grandma made, buongiorno!

But it’s interesting how we are attracted to that, isn’t it? I had a family member, years ago, that made these fried fruit pies. This aunt of mine would go door-to-business door selling them to the local shops and they’d put them right up on the counter and they sold like, well, hot fruit pies. It was a thing in her hometown for a little while, and that’s probably all it ever needed to be. But you would have sworn they tasted better just because, maybe, you knew her, or you’d heard of her name, or because the merchant told you it was the lady who lived over by the river, you know the one. But everything is local if the world gets small enough, anyway. That local appeal might not be entirely instinctive, but it’s got to be fairly close.

Instinctively, I know this is the wrong time of year for this:

‪Do not want. #snow #March‬ #Indiana

A post shared by Kenny Smith (@kennydsmith) on

This morning it wasn’t even in the forecast, now we’re going to be in a squall for an hour or two. I don’t even know what a squall is, really. Turns out it isn’t about volume at all. Nor is it about the weather hating me in mid-March.

A bit more of yesterday's snow squall. Yesterday, as in mid-March.

A post shared by Kenny Smith (@kennydsmith) on

Stuck to the ground, but not anything to worry over. No need rush out to the grocery store. All the local stuff has already been picked over anyway.

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