Samford


8
Feb 11

Three stories and a forecast

To finish the joke about comedic timing from yesterday …

When I was in high school and working at Stanley Steemer — oh, the stories those people can tell about the people they meet on a daily basis — I befriended this guy who was about 10 years older than me. He had the best music and stories and he’d been places and done things and was just a very interesting person to talk to. We worked well together, made a lot of money and someone made a running joke that he was my father. This was funny because the age difference wasn’t that great and, also, because he was of recent Japanese descent.

So Jon would say these worldly, funny things all the time and we eventually starting ripping off a Saturday Night Live/Kung Fu joke. It was an SNL bit from before my time watching the show, but I caught on to the shtick. He would say something interesting and I would say, “Ah yes, but Master, why do you call me Grasshopper?”

He would close his eyes and say, “Because you are ugly, like insect.”

This went on for months.

And then one morning Jon says, “Oh, and the master’s blind.”

You had to be there.

Busy day today. Had lunch with The Yankee, who was hosting students at a conference, and our friend Brian. After that I finished my class prep, taught, ran this errand and that. The day gets away from you when you never sit down.

And, you’ll be proud, I taught so hard I hurt my back.

Still not sure how that happened.

This class last Thursday was canceled because of ice falling to the earth without having the decency to melt. So I felt compelled to get part of that session in today too. There was the social media presentation, and a big handful of other things to discuss. Got them out on time, though, and knocked off all but two things on the list. After two small meetings after class there I retired to my office and listened as the staff put their newspaper to bed. This is the week of Step Sing, the big song and dance revue which dominates Samford for the first part of the spring term. Everyone puts a lot of time into, and a lot of the paper people are involved. They’re all working hard in about six different directions at once. They’re tackling it all with good morale, though, so that’s encouraging.

Did a lot of administrative stuff today. Followed up on phone calls and Emails and marveled at how that job never seems to end. I got one step closer to putting one of the big outstanding projects behind me. I’ll knock that out tomorrow. Another I should also be able to soon finish and pass along to others. This is good progress, resolving the things eat into your best intentions. That’s where I am now, on the edge of being able to pull myself up that ledge, so I can proceed a-pace.

A-pace being something slightly more productive than treading water. Until you get there, though, you just have to try and stay afloat.

I don’t know how it is now, but I did these summer day camps at the local YMCA when I was young. One of the programs at our Y had to do with the wonderfully over-chlorinated indoor pool. Yes, this has changed. Anyway, there was a graduated system of developing swimming skills. You achieved things! Got a membership card! And a cool fish name! At the top of the scale, of course, was the shark. I believe there used to be a dolphin or porpoise in the mix, but if so that’s gone. Somewhere along the way toward the top of this system we had to tread water. I think it was for six days. Or 75 minutes or an hour. Whichever was most agonizing.

I hated that.

I also seemed to remember having to inflate a pair of jeans and float on them in some bogus boat-rescue exercise, but I could be conflating that with lifeguard drills.

Anyway. I can keep my head a-float and a-pace like nobody’s a-business.

Lots of things have changed in the ol’ swimming game, just to veer off to something random because when I think of pools I think of warmth and the current temperatures are the opposite of that. The Yankee and I were both certified as lifeguards once upon a time and we occasionally shock people with this story.

When I certified, lifeguard training and the protocols they used for rescue were a lot more aggressive than they are today. If you were in distress the lifeguard came to get you. If you panicked and fought the lifeguard off the lifeguard might fight back, because you ruined his or her tanning lotion. Or, on a really good day, the lifeguard might put you under the water (which ALWAYS adds to your clarity). A lot of people are shocked to hear this. These days they throw in a float and tell you to grab it. If they do get wet, they are trained to wait until the person goes under before going in.

This just takes all the fun out of it, and is when I lost interest in the lifeguarding game. Not that I ever had interest, really, but the mountain was there, and so I learned how to climb it.

There. Aren’t we all warmer now for having heard that little story? It is going to snow here tomorrow.


7
Feb 11

Monday’s new mission

I have a new gimmick for this space on Mondays. Since the day is spent pinned beneath the computer — picture it, the machine has fallen on top of me, on the monitor is a vaguely human expression of determination, I am feebly trying to crawl out from under it — I’m just going to make this the day of a great dumping of links.

Oh there’s still Monday history, for the 1.4 people who come here to find out what I find interesting. That’s been transmorgified (Now there’s a wonderful word. It means something, but as yet has not been defined. We just know it is something about a mutation, but that G sound in there just makes it sound … unpleasant.) into a little elaboration on what I put on Twitter in the morning.

And I do that every morning on Twitter. There the habit seems to be recent history, mostly American or culturally impactful things that I find in a daily history app. I’d do more meaningful tidbits, but it is hard to explain 16th Century context in such a small forum. So I limit it to the baby boomer set when I can. From there and the two following generations people just know stuff. Right? That’s why President Obama talked about Sputnik, because it has seeped into the public consciousness, even if it was someone else’s actual event. Everyone knows what “we” did with Sputnik. And certainly the recitation of that storied tale was accurately told in the brief news packages the next day. Sputnik, when Russia launched us into space! It was Sputnik that put us on the moon!

This isn’t a new phenomenon, actually. There’s a great quote by John Adams after Benjamin Franklin died, where in his most bitter, paranoid way imagined the way the story of the American Revolution would be:

The essence of the whole will be that Dr. Franklin’s electrical rod smote the earth and out sprung General Washington. That Franklin electrified him with his rod and thence forward these two conducted all the policy, negotiation, legislation, and war.

The word insecure, in the psychological sense, only dates back to the early 20th Century (make your jokes here). But if they’d had that concept at Philadelphia, New York and Washington, they might have used it to describe Adams.

Stories change, is the point. Maybe it is enough that people remember Sputnik with fear and wonder, or bemusement, and tell their kids. And then one of those children grows up to inject it into a speech that his boss, the president, gives before a joint session of Congress and the nation. Anything is possible when that kid grew up with a father who used Old Spice.

Did you know there’s a new Old Spice commercial?

I wildly digress, but that’s OK because Monday, in the original Latin, means Stream of Consciousness.

If you’re really suddenly very curious about what recently historical things I’m trying to condense into 140 characters, then by all means, follow me.

From that storied feed of valuable historical information we remembered that today:

In 1990, the Soviet Union collapsed. This is oversimplified, of course. It took about two years, but on this particular day the Central Committee let loose of it’s power. They’d finally gotten around to watching Rocky IV and saw the writing on the wall.

I remember watching television when the Berlin Wall fell, but not this day in particular. So let’s make it up. This day in 1990 was a Wednesday. I was in class. I was in the seventh grade. So let’s say I was in … Coach Tucker’s social studies class. Why not?

This was before my time, but I remember reading about it on the 40th anniversary. In 1967, at a rooftop fine dining restaurant in Montgomery, Ala. a fire broke out in a cloakroom. The flames quickly spread, blocking access to the elevator and stairs. When they finally put out the flames they pulled out 25 bodies, including a prominent former state official, the wife of a newspaper editor and one of Jimmy Hoffa’s chief lobbyists. Here are two contemporary accounts, including one from a reporter who had dined there the night before, and considered returning that night.

Here are the recollections of survivors and firefighters:

And here’s the place today:


View Larger Map

In 1964 the Beatles invaded. In 1962 the United States stopped trade with Cuba. If I could have lived in the sixties I would have stopped just after the British invasion began. After that it was a long time to sit around for something fun. Sure, there was Apollo and the moon in ’69, but that would mean wading through five more years of that decade.

My mother asked me once, I’m sure I’ve written of this here, if the moon landing meant us much to my generation as it did her’s. From the exploration and science standpoint, sure, it is incredible. But, on the other hand to my age bracket we’ve always been on the moon. The previous generation got the experience of seeing it happen.

Of course, they didn’t have Google Moon. Come to think of it, they might have won this round.

Other links of varied merit: AOL is paying $315 million for Huffington Post, approximately 10 times HuffPo’s reported last year. From a financial point of view they overpaid. From an intangible point of view, it is anyone’s guess. I’m siding with Alan Mutter:

If HuffPo’s revenues triple this year to $90 million, then Armstrong can tell his shareholders he paid “only” 3.5x more for HuffPo than its sales are worth. If HuffPo sales triple again to $270 million in 2012, then the value of the deal is likely to be about 1x HuffPo’s revenues at that point and Armstrong, assuming he remains on the job, can tell the skeptics he was right.

The question to ask yourself in evaluating the long-term financial benefit of the acquisition to AOL is whether you think HuffPo is capable of bringing in a $270 million in annual sales within a couple of years.

Poynter’s Damon Kiesow finds some problems with Rupert Murdoch’s newest venture, The Daily:

I have been reading The Daily regularly since it launched on Wednesday, and almost every time I open the app, I’ve been confused to see a message telling me that “a new issue” is being delivered.

The Daily is published every morning, but Editor Jesse Angelo also said that it wouldn’t be “static” and would be updated as events warranted.

He’s quite forgiving of the experience, which is a better reception than The Daily has received in many corners. Of course there will be problems to overcome, this is a new enterprise, after all. These things must be done in full view of your audience, which is tough, but familiar to news types.

If only they’d announced it as a beta, everyone would be more willing to accept the learning curve.

Finished up a social media presentation for tomorrow. Three dozen slides should just about do it, right?

Try to make sense of that if you like, but it is mostly images and not too much text. The places with text will be, I suspect, where notes get taken. More to the point, though, I’m hoping to demonstrate the virtue of a PowerPoint presentation where every word isn’t read from the screen. This is an entry-level class and this is meant as something of a not-quite-vague overview.

Sadly I won’t be talking about cool stuff like this, where Coke is looking to move into SMS as a mobile priority:

“If you want to reach every consumer on the planet, texting is the way to do that,” said Daly, speaking Friday at MediaPost’s Mobile Summit conference in Miami. To underscore his point, he noted that 2.3 trillion text messages were sent worldwide last year. And as one of the world’s most pervasive consumer brands, Coca-Cola is always interested in reaching as wide an audience as possible.

Texting has even helped the beverage giant sell more Cokes through vending machines equipped to handle mobile short codes and cashless payments. The unlikely combination of traditional and newer technologies has given vending sales a 14% lift where the specialized machines have been rolled out, said Daly.

That’s just fascinating. You don’t often see Coke making bad marketing moves, so if Coke says they’re concentrating on SMS, you should be the next group.

Did you know our accents are changing in the South? Seems that way. Language is a fluid thing and it is always changing, everywhere. There’s a lot of neat stuff in this story as researchers ponder how and why this happens. I’m surprised no one is thinking of mediated influence. Naturally that wouldn’t be the only cause, but certainly it could be a significant contributor in modern times. Television and radio shape and influence patters, too.

But then I’m a media effects scholar. Here’s my hammer, there’s a nail.

This week Dr. Oz is unveiling his choice of Unhealthiest Cook in America. And Paula Deen’s boys are somehow involved in the promotional aspect of this, but it isn’t Paula. That’s odd. There are less healthy cooks than Paula Deen and her sons — it’s good, food, sure, but your doc would be displeased. Would you eat this:

Place burger patties on English muffins or buns, and if desired, on glazed donuts, as the buns. Top each burger with 2 pieces of bacon and a fried egg.

I made fun of this on Twitter, just as The Yankee uploaded a picture of the cupcakes we bought this evening for dessert. The secret to comedy is timing.

Tomorrow I’ll tell you how I learned that.

Ehh? Timing! Get it?


5
Feb 11

The bird that wouldn’t tweet

My eyes are going blind from too much staring at the monitor. Too much for a Saturday, anyway. Also the world’s worst bird took up a post outside of our bedroom window this morning. He has not been to any of the chirping conventions and his parents failed him. The thing sounds like a mule that’s just realized it’s fate. That was on top of a night of not good sleep. I’m blaming the cat.

So this will be brief and familiar and perhaps less than inspired.

Reading. Writing. Emailing. All but one of the smaller things are now out of the way so that I can get on to the larger projects.

One of those was the cleaning of the work Email account. It had grown full of data and would soon start kicking out rude auto-replies to people. So out when the junk and the trash and most of the sent mail. There are five pages of Emails in the Inbox. I like to keep that at two, so there will soon come a reckoning.

Made a lot of recruiting phone calls, talked with several enthusiastic high school seniors and a few parents with smiles on their faces. Three of the students were at Samford when I called. One mother wanted to give me her husband’s number, who was also on campus, because she couldn’t remember her daughter’s. “Isn’t that terrible?”

I don’t remember anyone’s number.

Let’s count. I know eight numbers. Two belong to me and two more I’ll never have need to call again. Three are numbers that haven’t changed in my lifetime and the last one is my mother’s. But I bet no one recalls numbers they’ve used since the proliferation of cell phones. They make our lives easier, or make us smarter, in many respects, but not in this way.

Got my Beta from Storify today. I signed up, because it is important to put my name everywhere on the off chance that I find yet another social media tool valuable. This one is an aggregator, of which there are now several. Memolane is one Intersect is yet another. There are, I think, at least three Auburn-themed sites now.) Not sure what I’ll do with Storify, though. It looks clean and simple, but I tend to like things on my own site and I’m overextended as it is with these third-party places.

At some point you aren’t putting yourself on a service, you’re simply helping add content to someone else’s money-making enterprise. The online life is all about being where the audience is, but the audience also has Google and Bing and I have good URL placement. That bird found me, after all.

If he comes back tomorrow I might make him famous on all of those sites.


4
Feb 11

Just another Friday

Woke up to the rain, and the rain may have it. The rain did have it, all day. All through hours of reading and countless Emails detailing the details of things which ought to be detailed and still more things lacking in detail. But, in the interregnum between Emails details will form.

My inbox is now sending me notices that I’m running out of space. This must not stand. Tomorrow I’m deleting the junk and the sent mail and the trash, first thing. I need the space so that I can receive further information about the details.

I’ve booked rooms for an upcoming conference. Finally just picked a place, now that I have a headcount. We’ll be staying two miles away, meaning we can put on the game faces on the drive over.

Even the hotel booking requires more details. I’m told I must procure a special form, call again and fax it to the hotel desk.

And since the hotel has accepted my AAA discount I had to call to inquire on the whereabouts of my new membership card. My AAA membership was given to me as a gift from my step-father last year and I’d thought of letting it lapse. But then the College Park Battery Debacle changed my mind. So I renewed the membership, but never received the card.

Turns out they have our old address in the system. Which is unfortunate, of course, because the post office, in cost cutting measures, has committed themselves to forwarding only some of our mail. It takes nine-to-12 business days to get the new card. That might be cutting it close. So they’re going to Email me a temporary card. That’s probably going to take eight business days.

We busted a camera in December. Apparently it was mounted on a tripod, but the tripod had no counter weight. A gust of wind knocked it over, and gravity did the rest. The LCD screen took the brunt of the blow.

LCD

These things will happen. These things, I’ve learned today, will be expensive.

It took two separate efforts and seven phone calls to find the right people to give me details, though. The guy in Illinois who does the work says he’s complained to Panasonic about the price. I’m sure he wasn’t the first. I know he won’t be the last. Finally we can get it fixed, though.

And the day went on like that, accomplishing the little things so they can be moved out of the way for bigger things. It seems backwards, somehow, but that’s the way of it some days.

I wrapped up my evening making more recruiting phone calls. That’s a fun thing, calling high school students looking to make their big college decision. Many of them are very excited that you’ve called. It is time-consuming, though. You think you’re making great progress and then you look over the spreadsheet to see just how far you have to go. But at least the young students are usually very interested in hearing from you.

After dinner we went to the gymnastics meet. Auburn didn’t have their best outing tonight, but it was enough to take a comeback victory over struggling Kentucky, 194.625-194.450. Here’s senior Rachel Inniss, striking a Heisman pose. I wonder if anyone has mentioned she’s doing it backward.

Inniss, according the university release, claimed her fifth individual title of the season and her third on floor, tying her career-best 9.900 for the fifth time. So maybe the backward Heisman is working out alright.


3
Feb 11

Ice? Ice.

That was after lunch. There was a little bit of falling ice before barbecue with Brian. And it really picked up on my way back to campus. By the time I’d parked I was faced with having to walk through that.

Two hours later, the ground looked like this:

Ice

That’s just ice. The sidewalks were slippery and the roads were getting worse. The university canceled classes, including mine, to close early. That decision was just in time. After putting a note on the door, gathering up all of my things and stopping by the boss’ office I made it off campus with pretty much everybody else. It took me half an hour to go the 1.8 miles from the campus to the interstate. The roads got a little slippery and everyone in the city left work at precisely the same time.

After that, apparently, everything got worse. There were plenty of reports of bad roads, fender-benders, an accident with a fatality up north and lots of stories of no progress on the roads.

I found one slippery spot, on an overpass, and soon after outran the traffic and then the freezing rain.

So I spent the evening making recruiting phone calls for our department. One very nice lady asked how the weather was.

“Well, today isn’t the right day to ask that question … ”

She laughed. They were getting ready for it to land on them, she said.

So I worked through the evening on phone calls until it got to late to do that. We had dinner with our friends Shane and Brian. Shane’s father is in town, and he walked in with his Airborne veterans hat on. He cuts an imposing figure, but is a nice guy. Turns out his grandfather was close friends with a former president of Samford. Small world.