Wednesday


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.


14
May 25

As my deadline approacheth, I make good progresseth

Well look who’s making the yard look all beautiful and what not.

It isn’t that these powerful bushes lit the place up– though their show is always impressive — it is that I got outside to see them at all.

Even if it is almost midnight.

Now I’m ready for the big final push, a day-or-two’s worth of clear-eyed, hopefully reading. Hopefully I’ll be handing out a lot of As.


7
May 25

A group ride

The grading and sharing of notes continues. And it will continue throughout the day, and probably most of tomorrow. So I’m on schedule, I suppose, but this could go faster. Feedback, however, is time intensive. I try to be as specific and useful as possible. And though there are some recurring themes that allow me to, occasionally, use a bit of copy-and-paste boilerplate on How To Fix That Particular Problem, a lot of this is bespoke.

Here’s the real problem. Canvas, our learning management system of choice, shows me a student’s PDF or DOC file or whatever in one frame of a browser, and, in another, it gives me a tiny little box to type in. Experience has taught me that typing in little boxes does wonders for my creative typographical errors. So I spend a decent chunk of time on each one just trying to read through what I wrote — unlike here — in the hopes that it makes sense. That it is applicable. That it is thoughtful and, dare I hope it, professorial.

It’s grimly humorous to me that I’m in a place where I can evaluate and score someone based on their typos, and I’m working in these tiny little text boxes that give me ample opportunity to sound almost literate.

Also, my feedback ranges from 200-600 words. And I have 60-some of these to work through. So, yeah, it takes time.

But I have an advantage today. Our neighor invited us out for an early morning bike ride. It was short, but also early enough that I’ve had more time in front of the computer screen, joy of joys.

Anyway, that’s our neighbor in the front right. He’s also an Ironman. And a bionic man.

Behind him is his friend. This guy had moved away to Florida, but recently returned to spend more time near his grandchildren. So he’s retired, but busier than ever maintaining two homes. He spent most of the ride telling me about the furniture he’s buying online and refinishing, and the work they’re doing to their house here. They seem the sort to buy it and leap right into it. Makes sense, make it yours! I don’t seem to be capable of that. People lived in this house before me, and that’s something to be respectful of and all. But this guy, he and his wife purchased a home from an elderly couple and it obviously needed to have some updating so they’ve just ripped out the floors and are walking around on the slab right now while the flooring people do their work. Also, he can tell you about the table and chairs he bought on Facebook Marketplace, what they’re worth, down to the penny, and what he bought them for.

He was, perhaps he still is, a big time amateur racer. And so as we went over roads he’s known for years and is now getting reacquainted with, he was telling me about things that happened on each of them, including when we crossed over one bridge where he crashed out and broke his collarbone. So naturally I had to tell our collarbone stories. And then we found ourselves on that freshly painted ribbon, zig zagging our way through quiet little neighborhoods from whence people were starting their day.

At the end of it all, we got to a stop sign and the retiree said thanks for the ride, and turned left. The rest of us went straight. When we got to our neighborhood we thanked our friend for the invite and went up our drive as he continued on down to his home.

That’s the way it is, riding with other people. You get to know these specific slices of their life. You could ride with them dozens of times, knowing only these little bits about them. And if you see them in their secret identity clothes around town, you might not even recognize one another. But then you see them on the next ride.

Small groups, like this, make for a fun ride, so I hope we get to do it again soon.

But, now, back to Canvas.


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.


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.