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Rowan

photo / Rowan / Tuesday — Comments Off
2
Sep 25

First day of classes

I’m tired. It’s the sort of tired it might take several long days and nights of sleep to overcome. It may be that I am reaching the end of the ability to stay up until 2 or 3 in the morning and get up the next day and feel relatively normal. I wonder if that’s a product of getting older. I think of it that way. Maybe that’s common, I’m getting too old for this… Though I wonder if it’s something else. I’m not getting enough vitamin C for this … or I need more vegetables … or I can’t do this at sea level …

Anything but the amount of sleep I get and being human, I guess. But now, I am convinced, this will get a bit better. That’s probably foolish, but it feels true.

Today was the first day of class. My lovely bride has one class on Tuesdays and I have two. I drove her to one side of campus and dropped her off so that she can do her magical classroom thing. I drove over to the other side of campus, parked the car — fifth floor of the parking deck, a midday treat! — and sat in the office for a while, getting the feel of office hours for the semester.

At 2 p.m. I went downstairs and started class, a new class. It is Criticism of Sport Media, and the class filled almost instantly when enrollment started in the spring. This is the one I’ve been fretting over weeks and weeks. It could be a good class, and now, finally, we’ll find out.

I think that’s what a lot of the last six weeks or two months or so has been about — and certainly the last few long nights — the long, slow, plan, worry and wait. It’s a strange thing. Sometime back, about two years and change ago, I filled the better part of a notebook with class ideas. One of my mandates is to create classes, so that’s just a part of it. Sometime last fall I had a series of meetings and the result was that I spouted out a few of those new class ideas. We ended up settling on one for the fall. I’ve thought about it for a year, planned it out since the spring and drilled into the details all summer long. Somewhere along the way I whittled it down to worry, leaving just enough time in the last week or so to stir up a good bout of self-doubt.

More than once I was told I was overthinking things.

It’s a wonderful job, but you must work your way into that part of it.

Imposter syndrome, I think, never goes away.

We had an interesting conversation around the office about it today. The department chair was telling someone about first day nerves. Those never go away, either — how long as that guy been doing this? The Yankee and I were talking about it on the drive in, too. She said it takes her a few weeks to get through it. I figure if things go well through this week I’ll be fine. Ordinarily that’s the case, but new classes, in my experience, are always an adventure.

It all went well enough today, but it’s syllabus day. So long as you remember your wardrobe, make sure the right slides are on the screen and the power stays on syllabus day is a success.

I have a second class right after the first. It is conveniently located in the same room. And four students from the first class, the criticism class, are in the second class, an org comm class. And those poor guys had to listen to the same syllabus day song and dance twice.

One asked, is the syllabus the same in this class as the other?

No, that syllabus is four pages. This one is five.

So, we are through syllabus day, and underway. Thursday, when these classes both meet again, we’ll concentrate on building up a little conversation. Common ground in sport, what these classes are all about, and all of that. Next week we’ll really dive in.

If I don’t rewrite all the lectures again, for the eleventieth time.

I’m not doing that tonight, though. Tonight, I must highlight the kitties. They are, after all, the most popular feature on this website. And they know it.

The other night a moth got into the house. It was flying around the kitchen, and Phoebe found it. She followed it into the far corner.

I like to think that that moth looked down and said, “Aww, cute!” That’s what I would do.

And then the moth probably met its doom.

Seriously, insects, when you sneak in, I’m trying to escort you out for your own good.

Poseidon found something; I have no idea what he was staring at. Nothing was on the wall, but he sat in his tunnel, as he often does, for a long while. And he peered out like this for some time.

Any insect that saw this staring back would instinctively know what to do.

The kitties are doing fine. They are a bit indignant for how long they were left alone today. I wonder if they pick up on habits. We’ll be working from home all day tomorrow, but then out of their site on Thursday, but back again, pecking away in our home offices on Friday. Will they notice that in a few weeks? Will we?

Friday / photo / Rowan — Comments Off
30
Aug 25

The steps we take

It never ceases to amaze me how the foundational stuff comes together just in time. Life will through you all manner of curve balls, of course, but if you know what needs to get done and know how long you’ve got to do it, you can can usually get it in. Maybe it’s a touch or a feel or just an overdoing it. Anyway, here, just four days before classes begin, I can see the path to the finish line, which is actually the starting line.

And if that starts to sound like I’m re-trodding the same trodden land, you’re probably right.

I’m not sure what I’ve done that hasn’t been done or re-done. I do know what is left to do.

Anyway, this afternoon I compiled master sheets for departmental social media, which is a role I was recently asked to take on. Two of my colleagues had the job, and they supervised a student who ran the socials. My colleagues are extremely busy, and this took something off their plate, and I’m happy to help. So I learned over the summer that the department’s social media began with a real go-getter student. But she graduated. The nerve. We have another student running the bulk of the content creation now, but she graduates this December.

And this is where I draw on my 15 years of student media. The first task is to build institutional history. So master sheets. All the passwords. Baseline analytics. Consistent messaging. The second task is my learning from the student we have working on this project right now. And then we’ll have to hire a new one, because students graduate.

The nerve.

Yesterday, I talked with the chair briefly about what we want out of this role. It was enough to let us know we should talk at a bit more length about it. Today, I had a meeting with someone in the alumni office about their social media efforts, because we think that one of our secondary audiences might be our alumni.

Then I wrote a bunch of emails. And then updated my syllabi with last minute YOU MUST INCLUDE info.

And then I wrote and rewrote and rewrote again my first message for my online class.

Tomorrow I’ll polish some things in my in-person classes — which will be the sort of thing I do all weekend. I’ll also have to update my PowerPoint templates because in today’s meeting I learned that a logo we’ve been using since August 1st is now obsolete. And this is where you become aware that the re-trodding is really just your tripping all over yourself.

There are many delightful seasons that come to you when you linger around a hydrangea. The budding and the burst of leaves are the first. Then, of course there are all of the moments surrounding the flowering petals. Ours are white, and they’re brilliant in their moment. One of the two troubling stories a hydrangea will tell is when the rains come. Ours grow so big that they held more water than they can shed. The weight bends the branches bend over and that’s the way they’ll stay, even if they eventually do dry out. It’s a lasting story. But it yields to this surprisingly lovely one.

The Yankee cut some of the flowering stems. Watching the delicate ways the colors change is an unexpected treat.

And I guess those colors are a theme. Because look at this accidental photo I took. I don’t even know when it happened. What do you suppose is out of focus here? What’s that different color in the bottom corner? And is this even oriented correctly?

We enjoyed some local corn this evening. Fresh off the stalk, fresh off the farm, fresh off the grill.

We have three months that make for real seasonal change, and we’ll, very soon, be in one of them. When we reconvene on Monday it’ll somehow be September. Who is ready for that?

If you, like me, aren’t ready for that, don’t miss a moment of the weekend.

Ehhh, that’s good advice every weekend.

Rowan / Thursday — Comments Off
28
Aug 25

A day long meeting

We had a faculty meeting today. The full department, reunited. The chair had put together a nine-page agenda. That’s a lot to get through! He’s masterful at pulling this together. He knew exactly where to put the lunch break on such a large document, and we got to that moment precisely at lunch time. He also honors the scheduled ends of his meetings. This one was slated to run from 9:30 to 2:30 p.m., and no matter what, you know you’re going to be done at 2:30.

Hitting a hard out on a five hour meeting with all of the sidebars and non-sequiturs that come with a bunch of professors is a bit of magic. The guy has mastered it.

Still and all, that’s a full day, especially after the optional social hour that followed.

Here was a little note card I found in the classroom we were in.

I wonder if that applies to all of us. Can I refer to that on a day when my class plans don’t come off as well as I’d hoped? “This was the best me today. I remembered that!”

Anything but work is the theme of the social hour, which of course devolves to pedagogy or theory because it’s a room full of people that think about that stuff incessantly.

There’s a school of thought that you should take part in these with great interest. See and be seen. Collegiality and all of that. Another good reason is that there are still people in this department I don’t know especially well. So today I learned all about one fellow’s vacation-slash-retirement home he’s working on in Mexico, and someone else’s recent hiking adventures.

We left in time to enjoy some of the evening daylight, so it truly was a full day on campus. (We’re not even working yet, and yet.)

Not too long after I got home I found a nice little headache, and so I spent the evening bumbling around, rather than being productive or otherwise exercising. There’s always tomorrow for one, or both of those things.

cycling / photo / Rowan / Wednesday — Comments Off
27
Aug 25

Pump me up

We’re coming to it now, he said with a cosmic blend of emotions — excitement, lament, worry, stress, the weary desire for a nap, fear of returning to a schedule, the optimism of returning to a schedule, paralysis by analysis and others. I am excited for the new semester, which begins next week. But that means the summer is almost over, which is a sadness, but a real lament that that also means the actual, meteorological summer is almost over. And did I do enough with it? Probably not, because of the worry and stress of the upcoming semester and all the new classes.

Prep is a word I’ve used something like nine times here in the last month, and thought about constantly. I am doing new class preps seven, eight and nine this term. I have been here four terms so far. So there’s your worry and stress.

Which leads us right into the desire for a nap. That or my poor sleep habits. I am not a very good sleeper. And that’s also figuring into the summer laments. Worse, it is a very small concern when considering a proper schedule. But this is a low buzz rather than a blaring klaxon. My entire adult life I have lived in fear of the alarm clock: what if I miss it. As such, getting out the door each day is usually one of the day’s biggest challenges. So, in that way, I’m fortunate.

There’s also the fortune that comes with a return to a schedule. No more planning. Just doing. Which is great because I’ve been thinking about how one of these classes should work for … I dunno, seven eight months now. Paralysis by analysis.

And there’s this weird, irrational belief: when the semester starts, I’ll actually have more time to figure out all the unknowns. That seems like the desperate bargaining of a desperately bargaining mind, no? But, again. No more planning. Just doing.

Doing much more. Aye, there’s the rub.

Tomorrow we have a day-long faculty meeting.

Tuesday, when classes begin, we’ll actually be under contract.

Today, I went to a different kind of meeting. I’m on a county-wide committee, which of course is part of my “service to the community.” This is a traffic safety thing. On the way, I drove down Main Street.

No kidding, that’s the name of that road.

When I tell people it’s a lot like home, that is a road I drove down today.

Today’s meeting was about implementing some traffic improvement and traffic calming elements at historically dangerous spots. It’s all done based on data which acknowledges that funds and grants are finite, and not every street we have emotional, dangerous, encounters on are at the top of the list. It’s a round-and-round sort of argument. But the implementation here is one part structural, road engineering, and one part psychological, human engineering, which is how they came to invite me to the thing. I suppose they were running low on options.

But at one point, a fellow down at the other end of the table, a county higher up, said “Perhaps the gentleman from Rowan … ” and pointed at me.

So, you bet, this is service to the community, and it sits proudly on my vita. Which I need to update.

When I got home, having driven down that bustling main street once again, we went for a bike ride. It was a slight variation of my 25-mile time trial. And I had good legs today. Moving so fast was I that I did not see the driveway gravel that had leaked into a road. I hit it hard, knew it right away and thought If I still have air pressure in a quarter of a mile I’ll be OK.

I did not have air pressure in a quarter of a mile. But I was OK. So I stood in someone’s yard — not for the first time this year — replacing a tube. My sixth of the year. Or maybe my eighth.

So I did the whole thing, removed the wheel from the frame, pulled the tire of the wheel, slipped the tube out from the tire. I spent a long time running my fingers over the wheel and inside the tube, just to make sure nothing was inside there. Which seems silly since I knew it was a handful of stone just down the street.

I put the tire back on the wheel, and then tucked the tube inside the tire, then folded the other side of the tire inside the wheel. All that was left to do is inflate it.

I carry a handheld pump in my jersey pocket. It’ll inflate a tire about halfway, and give you an unanticipated arm workout at the same time. It’s fine enough in a pinch. If I can get it working it will put enough air in the tube to get you home, but the ride is basically over.

So last, month, I bought an electric pump. It fits neatly in your pocket. You put it on the valve, press one button and, supposedly it inflates the tube. It is said the thing holds a charge for months, and that you can basically inflate two tubes on one charge. I’ve been carrying it for weeks, almost forgot about it, but then realized, this is the perfect time to try it. If it doesn’t work, I can get home in just three miles using the old hand pump. I dug the electric one out of my pocket, put it on the valve, pressed the button and waited a second or so for it to come to life. Then it hummed, vibrated slightly, and filled the tire up right away

I am impressed.

I didn’t fill it to capacity, because I wanted to have some extra juice in the thing for later if necessary. Even still, it was vastly superior to the hand pump. Faster, and more air pressure, and it allowed me to continue the planned route, rather than limping home. I was only four miles behind my lovely bride, which meant the whole thing, from stopping to starting, took about 12 or 13 minutes. It would have taken much longer, and been more frustrating, if I’d only had the hand pump.

I stopped a bit later to put a bit more air in the tube. And it was then that I resolved to buy about a dozen more of these little pumps, have a bandolier made and wear them across my chest, like some old western warlord.

And now I will tell everyone who rides a bike about electric pumps. You can get the Cycplus for a lower price if you shop around. After one use, though, I am reasonably sold.

I never saw The Yankee again. She was too far ahead, and moving very fast, indeed. But I had a nice enough ride, even if I was standing still for too long to keep my legs warm.

Here’s a shot over my shoulder.

And a left-handed shadow selfie at 18 miles per hour.

But, for now, back to the school work.

cycling / photo / Rowan / Tuesday — Comments Off
19
Aug 25

Making you wonder about the efficacy of bungee straps

I finished the last big lecture in my newly designed course. The course is finished. Now I have to only assign groups, write prompts for the midterm and final, make two other small decisions, and do daily prep throughout the term. So that I might, you know, actually run the course.

That’s the other thing about creating a new class. You’re not done until the final is in sight. But anyway, foundation, framing, walls, roof, shingles and all of that are now in place. Its a class we can live in for three-and-a-half months.

Anyway, I can put that behind me for a while, and focus on the other class. And also tomorrow afternoon’s committee meeting.

I forgot to add this poor quality video to yesterday’s post. The video isn’t great, but DailyMotion makes it worse. (I need a better video hosting option.) Anyway, these deer were out in this big field that’s sandwiched between a state highway and this little side street I took. They ran along side me for much of the thing, which was charming. Eventually I thought, I should pull out my phone and that was just before the deer thought, “We should turn left!” They didn’t come close to me, of course, they were trying to get away from me. But here’s me shooting a video and getting a firm grip on the front brake at the same time.

I had an even better encounter on today’s ride. Though I might have messed up her stride.

I did the thing today where I had a slight idea of the route I wanted to take, but then I changed it all up, mid-ride. This is maybe my second favorite kind of ride. The only thing better than spontaneity over known roads is deliberately setting out to find new and unknown roads. But, anyway, I went to town, doubled back through some heavy sprint zones and then turned left at one of the crossroads that also has a name that also ends in town. In about six pedal strokes I was outside of that town, and pretty soon saw two cyclists ahead of me. Or was it one? No, two. Maybe actually just the one. Nope, two. Definitely two. That’s what a couple of hills and blurry glasses will do to things way down the road.

I caught them on the second hill, a man and a woman. Both riding with blinkies and brightly colored shirts. The guy looked perfectly comfortable, like he was just riding alongside his companion, and she was having a little tougher time of it. I called out to them as I pulled alongside. The usual stuff. Great day for a ride! Except for this hill, right? Well, gotta go, have a safe one!

Then I pushed on, and they did not follow. I took a right, and the road opened for another big high-intensity push, and this view.

So I’m cruising along at 22 miles per hour and trying to remember if I remember this road. There are two — or is it four? — roads that cut across in this area and some of this looks familiar, but maybe I missed the landmarks I’m thinking of because I had my head down, or I was hypoxic.

Anyway, the road ended as expected, I turned to the right, as planned, and then set off on a three-hour adventure to the red light that was up ahead, visible for the duration, and still three, make that six hours away. Took forever. So much for those two big sprinty roads I’d just enjoyed.

Basically I’m doing parts of other routes in reverse, so all of the sensations are backward. What should be a slight descent to a riverbed is now the most interminable false flat road engineers have ever devised. And then this red light, which never changes. And then some more time with my nose in the wind. And so on.

The advantages of being in the wind is that you go slow. And also, it is demoralizing. But, occasionally, you see something that’s fallen off a car or truck or tractor, which means you might stop, or turn around and investigate. And today’s roadside find is curious, and maybe useful?

What even is that hook? It is sort of like an U-hook, but not. Sort of like a closed face, but not. You can see how it might have fallen off a truck bed. I don’t know what it can be used for, but fortunately I have an entire shelf in the garage dedicated to “Tie downs and other stuff I don’t know what it can be used for.”

Most of that shelf is bungee straps. You find a lot of bungee straps on the side of the road.