A lot of time in the car. But a lot got done. One of those days.
Meetings were held to discuss Digital Video Center policies. Things were taught to students and learned by me. Plans and logistics were heard and arranged. Emails … were emailed. One of those days.
Which is not to say there was anything wrong with it at all, because there was not anything wrong with it.
The Crimson had a meeting this morning, so I stayed out of their newsroom. You don’t want to put your snout in all of their activities. As an adviser of an independent publication you have to pick your spots.
So when I was there later I saw this on their wall-sized chalkboard:
Sounds like they’re off to a good start for the year.
Fred Stobaugh, whose wife Lorraine died in April, has no previous musical experience and wrote the song on a whim for a competition.
He submitted his handwritten lyrics by post and, although the contest was online-only, the organisers were so moved they put the words to music.
Oh Sweet Lorraine is number seven on US iTunes and has 1.9m YouTube views.
Billboard magazine said the song had sold 6,000 copies so far, placing it at number 49 in its rock digital songs sales chart.
The track is also in the iTunes charts for Austria, Switzerland, Germany, Sweden, Norway and Luxembourg.
There’s a short film about it. If you read the above, at least watch the second half:
He’s not a songwriter, or a musician, or a singer. So when the studio brought him the song he was hearing it for the first time. You almost feel like you can see it all, almost 75 years, right there in his eyes.
Are there covers? Can we turn this unexpected hit and lovely story into another installment of YouTube Cover Theater? There are covers.
And that’s enough to get us off to the weekend. Hope yours is great!
Monday / photo / Samford — Comments Off on First day of classes 26 Aug 13
When you get back on campus the places that you haven’t seen a lot recently welcome you back like you never left. Your colleagues are relaxed or stressed, and all points in between. But they’re all happy to be there. The Samford campus is an unusual place: everyone is generally pleased to be there. Anyone, anywhere can have that occasional bad day, but everyone I’ve ever met in five years at SU has this pleasant know-I’m-fortunate-to-be-here way about them. I noticed it my first year and I’ve never found an exception.
There are new faces in your classroom, of course, but there are plenty of familiar things:
There’s been a regional blood shortage all summer. I’m sure they’ll be parked out front frequently.
Had a great first day back. Met with one of the section editors of the paper. He’s got big plans in store. Finished preparing things for class. Printed a lot of stuff. Xeroxed even more. Talked with some of the faculty.
Taught a class. Or at least gave them all the first day speeches. Not all of the jokes got laughed at. At least two students in the room are from across the country.
Met with the new crop of student workers we’ll have this year. Visited the library. Talked with another faculty member. Did some newspaper research.
And on the first day of classes I finally left at 7:30 p.m, ready for a great semester.
It is a special thing, being on a happy college campus. I’m fortunate. And if I hadn’t been hungry, 7:30 wouldn’t have seemed like a big deal.
Had a morning appointment. Showed up right on time, owing to the slow car in front of me, the other car that couldn’t figure out turning lanes and a search for a parking space that could be described as too-warm porridge.
Visited with the nice lady sitting in the desk inside the fish bowl. She took my insurance card — because this is my third orthopedic guy to check out my shoulder and collar bone. In return she gave me the clipboard of paperwork. What are you allergic to? Have you had an of these diseases? Did your paternal great-great-uncle have any skin sensitivities to latex?
So you do all that, you know the drill. And then you wait for your name to be called. Other names are called. You start playing the same game you do at a restaurant. “They came in after we did and they’re already eating!”
I decided that, at 75 minutes, I would go ask when my 10:30 appointment was going to take place. At 74 minutes they finally called me back.
And that’s just the waiting room wait, of course. Wouldn’t it be great if the doctor was already in the examination room and he was waiting on you?
Another X-ray. And then a spirited round of playing with the display knee joint sitting in the exam room.
So we talked about the last year. He tested for nerve damage and said there was none. He tested for rotator cuff problems and said there were none. He touched my hardware and I decided I’m going to pinch, hard, the next person that does that.
He looked at my X-ray and said things look good there.
The problems, he said, are muscular, hardware or skeletal. He said he just took a plate out of someone’s collarbone that was so severe the poor guy couldn’t wear a jacket. Said the guy felt better the night of that removal. I don’t think that’s my problem. I’m guessing 90 percent of my issues are muscular.
But first we’re going to test for the skeletal. Sometime next week I have to have a bone scan. No idea what that’s about.
Oh. Radiation. Patience. One thing you don’t want and one thing I need more of.
Also, this doctor, who is apparently nationally renowned for shoulder surgeries, says I should have been in a sling for six to eight weeks. Had him repeat that.
My surgeon had me out of my immobilizer in a week. (I had to ask. I couldn’t remember. I don’t remember a lot.)
I take it I shouldn’t be happy with that.
Indian for lunch. School stuff for the rest of the day. Speaking of school:
Excited to be going back to play at Jordan-Hare to play in 2014!
Here’s the official release. Pat Sullivan almost beat his alma mater on the last trip. He put a huge scare into Auburn for 45 minutes. It was a great performance.
More sports: Google wants to buy the rights to put the NFL on YouTube. Remember where you were when this happens.
We had dinner with a friend — who will remain nameless because of this transgression — and standing in the parking lot, under the stars and lightning, we learned he’d never heard this song.
I did not realize you could be in your 30s and say that.
Sunny. No shade. And 84 degrees in the prime of the day. Spring has arrived. I went for a ride in it.
And this is the wall I hid behind about three-quarters of the way through my ride. A banana, a bit of water, a deep breath.
My bike is dirty.
It was good to get outside. I spent time today grading and coordinating student-journalists who were covering the second student death in the last two weeks.
You hate that all of this happened — another young person taken far too soon — but at the same time I can’t help but be proud of my particular students. They did a fine job in challenging circumstances. This time our paper is on hiatus for the summer, our new editor is still building his new staff and the students had just started taking finals.
Samford student Caroline Neisler died this morning. The university held a memorial service this evening. Our student-reporters got a couple of quotes, some art and wrote a story, all within a few hours, and under finals pressure.
I didn’t know Caroline, but having read the things her friends are writing about her she seemed like a fine young lady:
