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21
May 25

Why is it cold?

Another day, another meeting. More departmental stuff, this time over appetizers. It was a meeting scheduled for two hours — so not a retreat, by rule — that somehow wound up going about three-and-a-half hours.

And then, of course, there was being chummy with friends and colleagues. The usual sort of thing where you plot to take over the world. It’s a delightful time with smart people. We’ve built — and I guess I get to add myself to this now — the second largest program on campus. It is also thought to be the largest sports media program in the country. So they’re smart and talented and we have these common goals and it’s all quite delightful.

Except for the part where we were standing out in a parking lot chatting and, on May 21st, I could see my breath. That’s some wild weather.

Anyway, here’s another look at the lovely paenoia out front.

And, nearby, this iris I don’t understand at all. But it is quite striking just now.

Tomorrow, it will be warmer. A whole two degrees warmer. And on Friday, we might see the sun and 60 degrees, which would be a nice thing to experience in the last third of May.

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19
May 25

Whose Monday is it anyway?

All the grades got in on Friday, and the semester is at an end, but there are still meetings. Today was a full day of it, so it wasn’t a meeting. The normal faculty thing runs 90 minutes or so, and that’s a meeting. But somewhere after two hours they aren’t meetings anymore. Apparently that’s a rule. Today’s events, which ran for six hours and included a taco lunch, was called a retreat.

After this we had a retirement party. One of our colleagues is winding down her career this summer and looking forward to more time with grandchildren. There was a little party with a big turnout, testament to a career well spent.

I’ve seen a few faculty retirements like this. Some of them have nice little events, some just go quietly into their next chapter. It’s a shame that there isn’t an easy way to get former students involved. Then it could be a happy window into how a career is spent, a testament to the labors.

We had a moment in our retreat today where we discussed what we were proud of this year. I’ve been on the same kick for two or three years now, I guess. Previously, I was always happy to see my students and former students successes in the class, in their student media and their professional work. But, in the last several years, I’ve watched people grow into their real lives and realized that, of all of the things I enjoy — watching people find their passions, seeing light bulb moments in class, that’s the best. One of my first students is a chief marketing officer and founder of a company, but she’s also created an incredible family. Two of my students are professors, one of those guys is now a father of three. Earlier this year two of my students got married. Just this weekend a former student had his son dedicated at his church. Another just had her baby right before Mother’s Day. And another just posted a video where he and his wife learned they were having a boy.

We get young people in a critical moment of their lives. When we’re lucky, we have interactions with them through several years of their college lives. You watch them start to become the adults they want to be. And then, in those years after that without parents or schools dictating their lives, they begin to find themselves, for themselves. At some level, standing in the front of a classroom is a statement of hope and faith in the future of people. Those are the widgets we help make. You’re lucky if you see any of it; you’d like to see more.

Which is probably a little too woo-woo for a Monday evening.

Anyway, we went to a high school softball game this evening. My god-niece-in-law (just go with it) was playing first base in the playoffs. It was the Jaguars, who everyone loves, visiting the Raiders, a team nobody likes very much. The Jags got down early, but then a solo home run turned into a late rally. It was a pitchers duel that turned into a runaway, but got awfully dramatic in the sixth and seventh innings. The Raiders, who nobody likes very much, held on to win 8-6. You could look up to their press box and see all of their big regional and state wins hanging on the side of the building. I don’t know anything about the local softball history, but they looked like a good team tonight. And thus endeth the Jaguars season. Enjoy it now, Raiders. Our god-niece-in-law will surely see them again in her senior season.

I saw something on Saturday I’ve never seen before, a fire truck, of some sort, with a roll cage.

I wondered what the local three-street volunteer fire department figures they’ll need that for. Then I did the thing that I do, and I looked it up. Apparently it’s an effective tool for watering fields from multiple vectors. So perhaps preventing or fighting brush fires. It’s also great in parades. And let us hope that this is the only cause they have to use the thing.

Saturday night was a perfect spring night. I sat outside for a long while and admired the stars.

While I was doing that we got last-minute tickets to see Whose Live for Sunday night. Apparently the show was supposed to be elsewhere, but they had to change venues for whatever reason. That meant that a friend couldn’t go, and so there we were, right next to the stage.

A few years ago we saw a version of the show, and last month we saw a two-man version with Colin Mochrie and Brand Sherwood. So I guess we’re regulars now?

Anyhow, they played games you might recall from Whose Line Is It Anyway, and there’s another thing or two mixed in, as well. It’s all audience driven, either in the starting material, or with audience-as-players. The hit of the night was a couple who’d been married for 37 years. They pumped them for information about their early lives together, and then “recreated” their first date. The gag was that the man and the woman had to indicate when they got the facts right or wrong. They looked very much like the comfortably settled teachers and pillars of their church community that they were, and the whole bit was about trying to get the two of them to disagree with some aspect of what was playing out before them, to comedic effect.

It sounds dry, but imagine getting the high points of anyone’s lives in a two or three-minute interview and then playing that for laughs. It worked. Also, the proud Episcopalians like their beverages. A lot, it seems. So that figures in.

Anyway, at the end of the show they did a bonus hoedown. And the second guy, Joel Murray, stole the obvious “Fly Eagles Fly” pandering go-home line. Jeff B. Davis threw his hands into the air and had just seconds to work up something useful, and he remembered the man and woman.

They’re touring for most of the rest of the year, and each show is a bit different. Catch them if you can. Come October, we might see them once again!

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30
Apr 25

The last lecture

Today was the last meeting of my in-person class, international media communication. The students ended the semester in much the same way they began. I asked them to go to the library and pick up a book that falls under the broad genre of international media, read it and tell us about it. What’s the book about, why did you pick it up, what would make you recommend this book to others, that sort of thing. In this way, I like to tell myself, we are learning about the magic of libraries. And we all learned about 19 new books, some of them might be summer reading for someone. A simple presentation. Easy points. Momentum into the online final, which opened up Monday.

In our last few minutes together, I reminded them of the final. And then I reminded them of something I said in our first meeting together, that I think one of the job’s real perks is that I will go off topic, a few times, in the class. I reminded them of my two previous mini-speeches. The first is the true value of an education.

Discovering, for yourself, the joy of learning, which I now tell as anecdote about a former student.

The second is a bit I’ve done for years, about being mindful of cyclists and pedestrians when driving. Be courteous. Allow room, etc. I am one of those people. Let’s be safe. It’s a whole speech, with comedy and poignancy, but this was just a summary, reminding them of those two speeches to build to my third.

The screen read:

And this was the moment one of our deans walked into the room.

I said, “You all took a class which hasn’t been offered here in six years, so you probably only knew the title, and the catalog’s description. And it wasn’t previously taught the way I’ve done it here, so it is new, and, what’s more, you’ve stuck with it.”

“That,” I said, “takes an open mind, and I thank you for that. And next to an open mind is an open heart.”

“Put those two together, and you have the key ingredients for compassion. This goes well beyond our class, I’m just being real for a moment here, but I would encourage you to nurture that compassion in your life.”

“There comes a time,” I said, “when the greatest gift you can give someone is your compassion. There will come a time in your life, and I hope it’s far away and none-too-frequently, when the greatest gift you can receive is compassion.

“The world needs compassion, It always has. It always will.”

“And that is why I have always ended each of our meetings the same way. So I say to you one last time … Thank you. Be safe, and be kind.”

I walked past the dean, to the door, to applause.

Which is not the first time that’s happened, curiously.

cycling / photo / Rowan / video / Wednesday — Comments Off
23
Apr 25

Advertising and bikes, but not bike ads

In my international media class today, we talked about some facets of advertising. I had them read a few things, and a few students did the readings. And I had them watch a few videos, because, believe it or not, videos about how advertising works will always elicit some conversation.

Here’s one of the videos.

They really got into the Coke video. I enjoyed seeing the Coca-Cola products from other parts of the world.

And I also shared this video with them, which discusses women in advertising. Jean Kilbourne has been a model, an author, a filmmaker and an activist. And this is one of her now classic pieces where she dissects the ideals of beauty. Or starts to. You can’t get into all of it in a single 7-minute clip. In retrospect, I should have made this a full day’s worth of class.

The takeaway I leave them with is that there is an argument to me made that advertising is a form of journalism, or at least a glimpse of the contemporary record keeping of any given time. Kilbourne talks about how ads sell values, they sell images and concepts and, thus, normalcy. Ads are who we are. We can also say that attitudes in culture inform our ads.

More and more, I realize I should be turning this in to a culture class.

And then I sent them away with the happy thought that Kilbourne points out that there are some attitudes we need to get away from in this current portrayal of advertising (which had been de rigueur for decades before that production, and has remained so in the decades since) because “What’s at stake for all of us is our ability to have authentic and freely chosen lives, nothing less.

Next week they’ll be reading and talking about hijab advertisements, the economic globalization of ads, fragmentation and, of course, Stanley Cups.

Next week is our last week of class, somehow.

I’m only just now starting to get to know these people.

This evening I had enough daylight for a 26-mile ride. I reversed one of my usual courses, heading through one small town to the river, and then over into a neighboring city. Then I fought six miles of winds through woods and subdivisions, and then took a turn through the farms. Horses were the theme today.

I also went past the fields now turning green, most of the work still being done below the soil, and also past the vineyards. And more horses.

On this road, there is a bike lane, and I am obliged to ride in a bike lane when there is a lane. Usually this is fine, but they come with their own challenges.

This wash out will never not be the case right there. Busy little stretch of roadway, too.

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26
Mar 25

We saw Adam via Zoom

My old friend Adam joined our class via Zoom. He’s recently stepped down from a command of American Forces Network Europe, where he managed dozens of stations on two continents. It seemed a good perspective to add to our international media class. And he had a lot to offer, so I’m glad he took the time.

I was trying to remember, but we met in 2011. I wrote a piece about a distant cousin of his, a World War 2 hero, one of the Doolittle Raiders. Soon after we met in person, and became fast friends. He took a master’s degree and became one of my lovely bride’s students. We’ve toured Alaska and Ireland together.

We are close in age. His hometown is just one or two towns over from my grandparents. Once, we tried to decide if we’d ever been to some event as kids. We decided the most likely place would have been a steakhouse. My grandparents’ church dismissed earlier than his church, so it’s possible that he had to wait on us to leave so he could eat lunch.

I wrote a little bio of him for my students. It’s been an impressive, long career. Multiple deployments, some great experiences and some less than great. He’s now just a few months from retiring from the Army, an exceedingly happy family man, and studying to become a commercial pilot. We’re trying to talk him and his wife into moving close to us. I’m not sure if I’ve sold him on it yet, but you’ve seen the pictures around here. One of my angles is that it is a lot like home.

(Speaking of home … He knew where his ancestor who immigrated from England came from. Adam and I once visited that road in London.)

Speaking of pictures, I took these the other day and I’m cleaning up my phone.

As the weather warms up and the bikes go back on the roads, it is good to see these signs still out there reminding people about the rules of the road.

That one is relatively new. At least I don’t remember seeing it last year.

And here’s a man out there discing that dirt. That field, if it is all his, goes back some ways. He was probably doing that all afternoon.

That was Saturday, because you work every day on a farm. I wonder what they were doing there today. A lot more than me, I’m sure of it.