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8
Sep 20

Cluck cluck, tree, cluck cluck

Maples. Rubbing it in. “We’re going away!” Right in front of me, literally, the tree under which I parked today.

Which is the real story here. I went into the office a bit late today because I knew I’d be on campus until about 7:30 — which wound up being actually 8 or so. And even despite rolling onto campus in the middle of the day I parked right next to the building.

You can’t legally park any closer to our building than I did today, just before noon. That’s how many people aren’t on campus right now.

Our building has classes, but only the smaller ones. Anything over 50 students is automatically online. Faculty were able to decided, in a dizzying and disjointed system, whether they would teach in-person or online. One week, faculty could decide. The next, they couldn’t. It was all a part of a summer spent finding our sea legs. There was also a hybridized model, with rotating students on various days of the week and that seemed like it would have too many moving parts for anyone to keep straight. Ultimately, though, whatever got decided at an individual level, or got decided for them from above, has led to a quiet building so far.

With most classes apparently taking place on line, that means few students and very, very few faculty in the building. About 90 percent of the staff is working from home. And that means that, because I have to go in, I can get a parking spot right up front.

Just means I didn’t have to walk too far to my car at the end of the evening after a practice session in the television studio.

Except, after watching some practice shows get produced in anticipation of next week’s season premier episodes from the new news team, I walked to the parking deck. I hadn’t parked in the deck, but right beside that maple tree. It took me a block to realize it, and a block to walk back.

Which, for a Tuesday, isn’t the worst setback.

I’m more disappointed in the maple tree. If you see me out there sometime later this week, staring it down with a look of disappointment on my face, you’ll know why.


7
Sep 20

Just a few words about a casual bike ride

There’s a moment in this video where the frame rate and the RPMs of the spoke shadows synched up perfectly. Check this out:

This was of course, on a sunny Saturday bike ride, one of the highlights of the weekend.

Weekends taking on a curious level of sameness. We sleep in, get curbside pickup of Chick-fil-A for lunch, eat, go for a bike ride, get cleaned up and settle in for an evening of chatting with a few friends. Sundays usually have a lot of reading, or preparing for the week, or dreading it, or whatever it is that people do.

Next week, we’re changing it up. We’re going to go ride bikes somewhere else!

On our usual weekend route:

She takes beautiful pictures. Pointing those toes a little bit though …

I wonder if I should tell her. Nah. She was already ahead of me. “You’re riding better than me wrong!” would be bitter grapes, indeed.


4
Sep 20

Approved sidewalk painting

Well, you presume it was approved. A good stencil lends an air of legitimacy and authority.

These two were on sidewalk slabs near one another, just outside our building on campus. I wonder how many different bits of sloganeering that the Office of Sidewalk Painting created. It’s a big campus.

The #LocaleStrong thing is a bit tired. We should have retired that one with Boston. Let them keep it, they did it well. Now it’s a Beantown thing, and we all need our own hashtags. I just counted the mentions on Twitter. There’s been 62 uses of that hashtag since the beginning of the term two weeks ago. Most of them from official accounts. A few of the individual usages have been tongue-in-cheek. One was showing off a picture of the stencil work.

Just down the way, on the same block, some of the other signs were destroyed, and thrown into the creek.

I guess they didn’t see the stenciled, approved, graffiti.


3
Sep 20

Show – show – show, here we go!‬

‪In the spring, IUSTV’s production run was cut short by the university’s coronavirus shutdown. The last recording was with the sports crew, it was a March Thursday night. The outgoing sports director recorded a little monologue and then held a really touching meeting and he walked into the last weeks of his senior year and the first weeks of professional uncertainty. He, and every other senior, had such a scary, unenvious position just then. Some of them were starting to sign their first TV contracts at that moment. Others were doing job interviews. As far as I know and can tell, all of them, including that outgoing sports director, are working today. Almost all of them seem to be in jobs in their chosen flight path (including that departing sports director, who’s on-air at a hometown station) which is remarkable.

You couldn’t help but feel for those seniors, and all the underclassmen. When would we come back? What would that be like? And for our students in particular, you can’t thrive in Zoom meetings alone, which is what so much of those last weeks of spring became. The curriculum is so experiential, how would we deliver that?

Which brings us to the fall. We didn’t know, in March, what September and October and November would be like. We didn’t even know what April would look like. Maybe it’s still an open question, how the fall turns out, but I hope not. For all of the promise of technology, it brings some unique challenges, and pedagogical habits don’t, in fact, change overnight.

But, tonight — even amidst the unusual nature of these first few weeks, even as we don’t know how the semester will wind up — it’s developing in a familiar way for the TV crowd. The last show they recorded in the spring was sports, and so it’s fitting that the sports gang returned to the studio for the semester’s first production.‬

They don’t even have local sports, right now, but they were ready to be together, eager to be in a group, happy to do something. And, for a first production night, with new leadership (a solid, solid set) and some new members, and after an almost-six-month layoff, they did a fine job.

And it looks like the Big Ten may wind up reversing course to give them some sports content sometime in the next week or so, besides. Twenty, as the kids say, twenty.

When I left the building this evening:

This is the sunset view of choice around here. I’m not sure why. It is west. The fake ancient gates are behind me, but you’re just looking toward the downtown area. It seems like we could do better than this.

But we didn’t have to tonight. We didn’t have to tonight.


2
Sep 20

I do not blame Canada

Found this very American guy on the walk into the office today. Maples remain nature’s first quitters:

Blame Canada, as the joke goes, but I can’t do that. The Canadians are too nice. I blame Michigan, which lets too much of Canada get over the border, meteorologically speaking.

This seems a silly thing to even think about just now. I can’t help it. Fall is soggy mess in my head because I dread the gray of winter. Summer is a perpetual exercise of waiting for the other shoe to drop because I dread the gray of winter. Spring doesn’t happen because it’s the gray of winter here until the second week of April. And that sits on your psyche all year long.

It’s a charming way to live, really. Even when the day, today, looks like this:

It’ll be gray before the end of the month, and then the weather will be all over the place until some point in December when the sun just gives up, all because the earth has to spin and rotate and such.

Sub-tropical living is the place I oughta be.

I talked to one of the student affairs people about stuff happening on campus, and stuff not-happening on campus. It seemed good timing for the student slice of audience. If that’s you, then this is for you. If you aren’t a student, or otherwise interested in student services and groups, you can safely move on.

Unless you’re a completist, in which case: Like Canada, I apologize.