Tuesday « Kenny Smith | A remarkable thing happens …

Tuesday

Catching up on the weekend

It’s a big week of doing work. A big week of working. So this probably will be a light week here, while I’m busy being productive finishing syllabi, making Canvas come to life, pulling together lecture notes and the like. And then there’s the endless doubt and self-recrimination that always comes with taking on, and creating, new classes. Am I doing this right? Is it right? Is it enough?

Is it too much? Will it hold up to scrutiny? Can others also find it interesting? Am I going to meet the class objectives? Will it be well received? Will we want to offer this again?

I’d feel this way about it if someone gave me an immortally successful class that was failproof.

I might feel this way with a class I’d built that was always successful, too. But I have somehow never had a lot of opportunity to test that concept. My chair noted in my contract packet last spring that I’m flexible and amendable to taking on new courses at the last minute. It was kind of him to say, but that’s perhaps not the reputation you want to burnish. Constantly building and learning and mastering new material is a fun challenge, but it can be a challenge — especially if you want to really master it.

This term I am teaching classes seven, eight and nine here. It’s my fifth semester here. There’s a certain amount of psychic energy involved in all of that.

The good news is that I can worry over this a little more. Perhaps, by 2027, I’ll have finally built out all my own courses. My own corner, indeed.

Anyway.

There’s something about my Saturday bike ride I’m trying to get off my chest. This was one of those rides where I wanted to change up from the usual routes. Sometimes the best surprises come from simply asking the question: what’s down that way? So I did some very familiar roads, and then I got to a particular place and turned left instead of the usual right. I was rewarded with some lovely tree-covered roads, a delightful change of pace considering how often we’re riding out in the open air wind here. I was under those trees, in that shade and on those close-in curvy roads long enough that when I got funneled back out into the farmland again it was a bit of a shock. So bright! And wide open!

About the time I adjusted to that again, I realized where I was. I’d come this way before, but in the other direction. Then I saw a sign which told me which town was in each direction and I was clearly oriented. And so I’ve put another few roads together in the mental map.

It was about that time that I saw a little blinking light well ahead of me. Another cyclist! Instead of turning around, I decided I’d go catch that person, which I did about a mile later. Before that, though, I experienced a dangerous pass from a truck hauling a trailer loaded with a Bobcat. The truck would have been bad enough, but it was one of those that felt like you were going to get sucked under the trailer. I suspect you’d need to experience that to really appreciate it.

So when I got up to the other cyclist, I asked him how his day was. I asked him how that truck had been for him. He gave me a grim half-smile, which allowed him long enough to play it cool. “He gave me about a foot.”

And, friends, that’s not OK. Nor should we play like it is.

Since it was Saturday, and I had a long bike ride, and elsewhere my lovely bride set a new PR in the Olympic distance tri, we celebrated with a custard.

At the same time, all of this is still going on outside.

And there’s easily more than a week of that to go. No scurvy will be had in August.

Yesterday i tore myself away from the computer for 90 minutes for a bike ride. I did my 25-mile time trial route and took 36 seconds off my previous best, which was just last week. Making me think that I might be close to topping out. Or that there are still a lot of gains to be made. Anything is possible.

Either way, the corn is coming along nicely. Sometimes you whip out the camera and shoot something at 19 mph without even looking at the composition, and it works out pretty well.

Hopefully the next one will, too.

adventures / cycling / music / photo / Tuesday / video — Comments Off
5
Aug 25

Last night in New York

We left the house at 2:30 yesterday. OK, 2:38, because my lovely bride would wonder what was wrong with me if I was on time. And, yet, we were still early because, before we’d even left the yard I exclaimed, “EXCLAMATION!” And she said, “What?”

I was pulling out my phone by then, because I’d just remembered I’d set up a time for someone to come by the house on Wednesday, only I won’t be at the house.

She didn’t know that, yet, and she said, “What is it? We’ve got time. We can go back.”

So I guess I didn’t have to be out of the house at 2:30, after all. I think she’s counter-programming our schedule to allow for my difficulty in grabbing shoes, belt, wallet, making sure the doors are locked, the cats are on guard duty, that food is in their bowls and that the battalion of ninjas out back understand their orders (Defend!) for the night.

So I rescheduled the guy. He’ll come by next Wednesday. Watch me forget that, too, somehow.

So we drove to Hamilton Station, a four-track, two-platform commuter operation. It worked out such that we were about six, maybe seven minutes early. I am definitely being counter-programmed.

We boarded a train with the dingiest windows you’ve ever seen, because this is the U.S., not Europe, friend. And we went into Penn Station. From there, we walked to a subway.

So this trip has taken the car (which was great), a train (which was fine) and a subway (which I can do without, but whatever). We went up four stops. Had dinner on a pier — which was more cosmopolitan than it sounds, I guess, and thankfully not terribly overpriced. I had a little basket of fish and chips, which sustained me through the night. There was a citrus herb mayo — see? Cosmopolitan. Then we went next door, or to the next pier over, and upstairs.

We were there because Pier 17 had the show, which we’d come to see. It was the same show we saw last week. It was nearby, a rescheduled event (previously postponed due to severe weather) with inexpensive tickets and we figured, why not?

It was a terrific little venue. Look at the backdrop we had as The Mountain Goats performed.

I mentioned on Friday that the lead singer, John Darnielle, had a small little social media conversation with me. He gave me suggestions on where to begin in his catalog, which I thought was generous of him. So I’ll wind up picking up a few things eventually.

They had a fine set last night, and they have a devoted following, do The Mountain Goats. They finished strong. All their fans were jumping around and the floor, which was someone else’s roof, was bouncing around and I am now “Can we not do that?” years old.

As they left the stage and the road crews came out to set up for Guster, The Mountain Goats fans pulled away from the stage and we moved forward. A thing Guster has been doing is that in one particular song, Ryan Miller has come out into the crowd. Given that this was our fifth time to see them this year, we’ve picked up on the pattern. The other night, my lovely bride said she wanted to try to get where he might come off the stage. She picked the spot and we weaved ourselves right up to the crowd barrier.

There was a little gap between the stage and the crowd, and so we were wondering if he was going to climb down and do this bit. He did. Off the stage onto a monitor, to the ground, and over the barrier. He disappeared into the audience about five people over from us. They kept feeding XLR cable to him as he worked his way all the way to the back of the venue.

The chorus is just …

If you don’t come
I’m doin’ it by myself
If you don’t care
I’ll do it by myself
By myself

… and between each line he has enough time to say “Hi” or interject some random “Where am I going?” thought into the microphone. They kept feeding him cable, he kept shuffling back. That cable run had to be about 60 yards. The chorus continues. In between two lines he says “I think you know where I’m going.” And everyone did. There was a little platform, a little rooftop viewing deck back there. Up the stairs, singing, high-fiving, giving hugs, and so on. And then he has to come back. There are two guys that are pulling the cable back. He’s just playing that chorus. This all takes a while, working through those people, and I’m wondering what the band’s plan is if he doesn’t make it back in time. The other night, he made a stop at the bar and got drinks for the band. On his way back the XLR cable passed over me and knocked my phone out of my hand. And we were only sort of close. But where we found ourselves tonight, Miller walked right by me.

Right by me.

As a finale, they played Boz Scaggs’ “Lido Shuffle,” because, I guess, if you have a guy playing a nice warm saxophone like Matt Douglas in your midst you find a song with a nice sax run. So here’s the big finish.

And, yeah, it sort of did seem like Darnielle pointed right at me.

We pronounced it a grand show, and a lovely venue. We took a subway back to the train station, caught the earlier of two options, and got back to the car without incident. We stopped at a gas station at Hamilton, pronounced we wanted one of everything to drink, and got one drink for each of us.

All talk, the two of us. We got caught behind an accident that shut down the highway, and necessitated a long detour, but made it home at about 1 a.m. Today, I have spent working.

Except for this evening, when we went out for a bike ride. Let me tell you how fast my wife is riding this year.

She wanted to do 25 miles, and she suggested my 25-mile time trial route. If you look at it on a map, it is the world’s most misshapen rectangle. And after the first little bit I decided I would be the rabbit that she got to chase, for as long as I could stay out front. Here I am, out front.

There’s one part of this route that she’s not terribly wild about, and it had a little additional traffic on it this evening that also displeased me. But I lucked out in the traffic pattern and was able to move on through with no problem. By the time she got there the circumstance demanded she be a little more conservative. Before long, I could not see her behind me. But there were turns coming up and I would have plenty of time with both a left and a right to run my eyes back down a long, flat, open road to see her behind me.

Except she was not there. It was just me and the fields. And some livestock from time-to-time.

I can track her progress on an app, so I looked at a certain, specific point. She was nine-tenths of a mile behind me. Now, I’m having a good ride. Legs are strong. Lungs aren’t burning. There’s no wind to push me around. Everything feels just as it should. Plus I had that traffic scenario. And I’m nine-tenths of a mile ahead. She’s safely through all of that and the rest of the route is a simple and safe as you can make it on open roads. So I pedal-pedal-pedal.

I go all of the way down that road, turn at the appointed spot, and then it’s just a four-mile push that I can ride well. (We all have our strengths.) I resolve that, when I get to the end of that leg of the route I will check her progress on the app again. Because there’s no way she’s coming back. Not after being almost a mile back and me on one of my better stretches and having a great ride. I’ve been peaking over my shoulder, but I knew it would be super human. So, at the next turn, I check her progress again, as planned.

She is now three-tenths of a mile behind me.

She has plenty of strengths.

But now I’m on the last leg, it’s just eight miles. Three hills. Most of it in a straight line and long stretches of it with views way out in front of you. So she’ll see me, if she can’t already see me, and then she’ll just magically be there. Or be in front of me.

Should I ride on? Should I wait to let her catch me and then try to speed away again? It isn’t a race, but it is a race. Which is when the mind bets begin. If I can get over this hill … If I can get over that hill … if I make it to the tree line, I might hold her off … if I get to that next stop sign there’s only a small chance of her catching me … if she gets me on the final straight I know I can at least put in a good show as we get back to the neighborhood. I do all of that, and she’s not there. It’s just me and my legs and I made it in first.

Strava tells me this is the fifth time I’ve done this route. And this time was one minute and 16 seconds faster than my previous best. I was only just stopping the app recordings when she wheeled into the driveway behind me.

Later, I asked her when she first saw me after the traffic thing. She described it. She saw a flash of color up ahead, but then realized it was a neighborhood kid riding his bike. And then she saw me. And then she dropped her chain. So she had to stop and dismount, fix that, and still almost caught me at the end. So I dropped her and she essentially caught me twice.

So she’s going to have a super strong triathlon Saturday.

iPhone / memories / photo / Tuesday — Comments Off
29
Jul 25

Three simple steps

I made myself a new phone background. It’s easy and fun. And this one was good, so I thought I’d share it, in case you needed a new look. I found this on a wall in California in March of 2024. It seemed like really good advice. Still does. So click this photo, download the thing, you’ll have one hastily made wallpaper ready to go.

I had to do a little scrolling to find that photo. The energy levels were different in 2024 than they are in 2025. Gee. I can’t, for the life of me, imagine why that is.

Should try to work on that.

Anyway, the kitties are taking this mantra to heart. Here’s Phoebe, doing the relaxing.

And here’s Poseidon, doing the enjoy portion on both a chair and a little end table. It started out as a lunchtime cuddle, but this was better, I guess. Well, he enjoys it.

Neither of them have a problem with the repeat part of this life approach.

OK, back to my work studies. This meeting prep won’t do itself.

adventures / food / photo / Tuesday — Comments Off
22
Jul 25

The difference between inspiration and vision

Inspiration comes in many forms, and perhaps the sweetest form is when the inspiration is someone else’s and you still somehow benefit. And that was the case at lunch today, when my lovely bride decided that a BLT sounded good.

And I agreed! Because I agree! And, because she is kind, she will also cook enough bacon for me to enjoy as well.

I also agreed because the alternative is to disagree. And I could disagree! A BLT did not sound good today, a BLT sounds good each and every day.

So BLTs were her inspiration, but daily BLTs are my my vision.

Since we didn’t do it yesterday, and I am quite literally getting the business for it right now, we are now past due for the site’s most popular weekly feature, our check-in with the kitties.

After lunch, Phoebe, who has become very demanding in the kitchen, was ready to relax on the sofa. (I was watching Le Tour.)

(Some time later …)

And, now, after a big cuddle with Poseidon, made his feelings about the day known, stretching himself across the keyboard. The work day is over.

So I guess I should take the hint, cut this short, and give him more pets. That is, after all, his vision.

But first I must get the cat hair off the laptop.

photo / Tuesday / winded-intellectual property — Comments Off
15
Jul 25

Forehand, backhand, and the heat

Just your average sunny, hot, sticky day. The heat index got up to 96 or so, and don’t think I didn’t notice, sweating as i was. So it was a good day to stay inside. I’ve been making that call a bit more often than I normally would during the hottest days of late. I’m OK with it.

Anyway, I made productive use of my time. I watched a documentary, about tennis and equity in pay, which I’ll show in class and made a day’s worth of notes about it that we can discuss in a lecture. One more down, too many to count to go. It was a good afternoon in that respect, and a fine documentary. The goal is to sound like a rhetorician before the semester is done. And this doc is one way I’ll start.

I’ll get another one or two down later this week.

Let’s check out some of the flowers in the backyard, which is busy growing just about everything possible. The brown-eyed susans (Rudbeckia triloba) are doing what they do.

These things will grow most any place, but do well in the sun and sandy soil. Guess what we have here where the heavy land and the green sands meet. They’re beautiful, but the wrong signal. We’re on the back half of the summer. And, also, they take over everything. But they’ll be with us for a while. Still, anything denoting the passage of time in the summer is an oddly unwelcome thing.

I believe this is an orange lily, or a Tiger lily (Lilium bulbiferum).

These are native to Europe, you can find them from Spain to Finland to Ukraine. They like altitude, which we don’t have. But they enjoy the warm sun. Our yard has stuff from near and far, so it’s not surprising to see this guy here. It is a bit surprising he’s outgrowing the weeds.

There is weeding that needs doing. But see above, regarding the heat.