Monday


23
Sep 13

The active Monday post

Yesterday, in that time between afternoon and evening, when the crickets are warming up and the sun is cooling down, we went out for a run. We’ve been running most recently through the neighborhood. We have a great sidewalk path that meanders through the residential areas and the artery that connects different parts of the neighborhood. At times, on foot, they feel far enough apart that you could be running in the woods. But that’s just if you run slow, like me.

There is a roundabout down by the creek bed that has become a good turnaround point for the standard three-mile jog. We ran out together at the same pace and I figured I would run beyond the roundabout, and my lovely running wife would make the turn and then I’d have to try and catch her on the way back in.

Only she ran on beyond the roundabout too, up the hill to the stop sign.

So I ran on beyond the stop sign, turning right and going up the road beyond an elementary school and on. This is one of the routes we ride on our bikes and, indeed, a guy passed me as I shuffled along. I got 4 km, or 2.5 miles and decided to turn around. And then I had to run up the hill to get back to the road that leads down to the roundabout and into the neighborhood.

I ran five miles in the time between afternoon and evening.

I do not know what is happening.

More physical therapy on my shoulder this morning. We’ve added stretchy bands to the routine of motions, movements, pinching and flexing and whatnot.

You meet some interesting people at the therapy place. There’s an older man there working his way back from some sort of accident that left his doctor telling him he’d never do this or that again. The guy left his doctor’s office — I believe his quote was “You don’t know God” — and went to work and proved the doctor wrong. There’s a young guy there who’s trying to get healthy so he can rejoin his high school football team. The therapist is leaning toward shutting him down, and that’s a terrible thing for the kid to hear. There’s a very old gentleman who asked me if I was from Savannah since I had on one of those shirts this morning. He was stationed there with the 2nd Bombardment Wing once upon a time. There’s a lady who works at a nearby deli, and when she visits the staff knows where they are going for lunch that day.

One day you quit going to physical therapy, because you’re better and that’s what you do, but you miss out on learning a little about a lot of people.

In class today we talked about story assignments that the students are working on. We talked about photojournalism. Usually that’s a pretty good lecture because there are plenty of great pictures. And so it was today. After that I scribbled on students’ hard work and they thanked me for it. Life is good.

After that I hit the pool. I swam a mile tonight in my little crawling, breaststroke-esque style. I did 75 yards freestyle, which is a significant improvement for me. More than four strokes before I had to stop! I felt like climbing out and celebrating on the deck.

I ran five miles yesterday and swam one today. I do not know what is happening.

Here is the best video you’ve ever seen about science, a capella, string theory and puppet Einstein.

Things to read: The interesting material I’ve found today that I wanted to share with you.

Two stories that probably say a lot more than anyone realizes: Why Alabama’s rural counties are at risk as Obamacare approaches and Alabama’s rural residents are poorer, older, and less educated – and have far less access to health care

Twitter’s TV Pitch Comes of Age:

“Tweets drive discovery, ratings, and engagement for networks and advertisers, and that means more tweets. It’s a virtuous cycle,” Matt Derella, Twitter’s vp of sales, told a room full of ad industry folks. “We want to be the preeminent compliment to the TV experience. The social soundtrack is about TV multiplied by Twitter.”

The 3 Future Waves In Design, And How To Ride Them:

Twenty years ago, computing was just coming into its own as a medium to which designers could usefully contribute. Since then, it has become the source of just about every major opportunity for product innovation. Audio devices are essentially small computers. Mobile phones are small computers. Everything from medical devices to sports equipment is being augmented by computing. Today, as the once difficult feats of functionality and usability become table stakes, our focus is shifting toward driving greater systems-wide thinking and more beautiful, humanistic experiences. Computing-driven products are no longer islands. They exist as parts of greater systems and brand experiences. The product design industry has collectively responded to this challenge over the last few years; but as we do, new waves are coming that will drive product design going forward.

About the Dexter finale

And, finally, three things on the campus blog today:

Witness to massacre

Media names the wrong guy in shooting; he’s upset

Interactive Obamacare map

That should be plenty for today. More tomorrow. There’s always more tomorrow.


16
Sep 13

Defective isn’t the first word I’d use

So I’m just driving to campus today and there’s a loud bang and a big yanking shudder to the left and all of the rocking of the car that comes with that and the fluttering out the back of part of my tire.

Or all of it.

There was a minivan just almost in my blindspot in the next lane and, fortunately, the entire tread of the tire managed to not hit them. Inside the minivan was a guy who does tires for a living. (It is true what they say in the South. Someone will be along directly to help you. Don’t get in their way. They live for this.)

So I pull things out of the truck to pull out the spare. I dig out the jack. Without a word he pulls that piece of junk off the car and puts the extra in place. I have changed more than a few tires in my life, but I was glad he was there to help put the old one in the trunk so I didn’t have to pick up something heavy after just having therapy and ice on my shoulder.

It was, he observed wryly, defective. And Goodrich has warranties. The tire isn’t that old, after all.

Here is a still shot, so you can admire the damage in detail.

tire

That’s at the place where I got a new tire, where one guy said he’d never had a job like this. And another guy said “God was riding witchou.”

The weird thing is, aside from the bang and flop and jerk of the car was that as soon as that was over the ride was perfect. Of course I immediately slowed, changed lanes and stopped on the shoulder of the freeway. You drive with a tire like that and all deities major or minor will find they have other plans.

There is no tread anywhere on the tire, save that one little thumb-sized piece in the bottom left corner.

But, hey! I got a discount on the new tire. It seems this one had failed. And become defective.

In class we discussed the basic news story and I sent the students on their way to get quotes and write some brief copy. Exciting times in the classroom, to be sure. Afterward I spent the evening counting all of the stars, lucky and unlucky.

The day started with physical rehabilitation where my trainer put me on a device borrowed directly from the Spanish Inquisition, which allows us one of the few still-good Python bits.

Mostly, I think, because it doesn’t spend the entire scene deconstructing the British culture. (Which they did.)

My torture device wasn’t designed for torture, but it had the look. (“Oh. The one in the corner?”) It did involve knobs and slats and springs and straps and rack and pinion steering. It was a modular device that, one presumes, does many things. For me it meant being on my stomach, reaching above to grab leather straps, pulling down, arching back and so on. It was yet another set of muscle groups I didn’t know I was supposed to have.

It occurs to me that much of physical therapy, set to music, could be a post-modern expressionist dance.

I’m actually doing some of these things. Maybe we’ve been missing the point all along.

Check your tires, drive safely and have a great day.


9
Sep 13

The day I couldn’t turn my head or move, really

Started the new physical therapy routine on my shoulder today. Met with the nice lady who is going to make me all better. She asked what brings on the problems and I wish I knew, because I could stop doing them. And not knowing is unusual because I am typically very causal about what brings about the things that hurt.

Maybe I should start a journal.

So I have these movements and those stretches. Basically today was all about using my arm and my body against itself in ways you don’t normally use your muscle groups. Which means the entire thing is shaky and humorous. And I have homework of stretches and flexes and things.

She gave me an ice pack and sent me on my way. Twenty minutes later my shoulder spasmed hard. (Note to self: You did it, lady! You’re the cause!)

And then my other shoulder and my neck. Such that by the end of the night I could only barely move my upper body. That was a lot of fun. Still is, really.

In class we talked about Associated Press style. We discussed the front pages stories in a national newspaper, a small town community rag and a campus publication.

What makes this story important? What makes it unimportant? Should it have been placed here? There were good answers to these questions, even for the stories that, probably, weren’t really front page stories.

Less obvious were the answers to this question: Who else should have been quoted in this story?

What was fun was trying to find those newspapers. Like pay phones, newspaper boxes have disappeared. And, yes, I understand the business. What I mean is that in places where you saw boxes earlier this year, they are often gone today. The day was coming. The day has quietly come. If by day you mean a big truck with someone throwing newspaper boxes in the back.

Things to read, or items that interested me today.

There was a fireball in the sky here tonight. Twitter — watch what I do here — lit up with the news. Here is a record of some of the sightings. Four meteor cameras spotted it. Some observers noted a sonic boom, which demonstrates how long and low into the atmosphere the object survived.

Poor dears in Texas are having trouble because they booked their wedding in the fall and the date coincides with the later booking of This Week’s Game of the Century:

“The game will probably be ending right around the time I say ‘I do,’ ” sighed the bride-to-be.

[…]

“Trying to schedule a wedding on a home-game weekend is nearly impossible,” said Susan Keough, a wedding coordinator in College Station.

[…]

The wedding of Ms. Mies and Logan Parker is set for 6 p.m. at Astin Mansion, a venue in Bryan, Texas, that employs its own chefs and florists. The unusual circumstances, Ms. Mies said, will be an unexpected test for her 100 guests: Some men will be scurrying over for the reception from the stadium, where the game has a 2:30 p.m. kickoff, while their wives come early for the ceremony.

“You find out who your friends are,” Ms. Mies said, “and who loves you the most.”

Also, your friends find out if you consider things that may be important to them, like locally important cultural events, before scheduling your big day. This news is not news in our beautiful corner of things, but surely looks very eccentric and odd to every other part of the country.

Here’s more news: Spring weddings are beautiful and summer weddings are possible, despite the heat.

I attended a wedding held during the Iron Bowl one year. The wedding was held in a private home, so they could have moved things up a few hours. But, nooooo.

I wonder why someone doesn’t get married actually at a game. With the big HD screens in stadiums these days you’d have an entertaining and unique experience. Maybe the coach comes over afterward and gives you a game ball.

And, finally, Samford moves up a step in the (sometimes dubious) U.S. News and World Report’s rankings. Number three in the South.


2
Sep 13

Gameday sunsets

Labor Day. What’d you do? I ran. Had a pretty good run, for me.

I do not know what is happening.

I rode my bike. It was not a very good ride in most senses. But, in the most important way it was perfect: I was riding my bike.

So it was a lovely day. Hope yours has been great, too.

Here are a few shots from Saturday’s sunset. We get beautiful sunsets.

Some people saw an eagle here. Hard to disagree:

Click to see a larger version of this panorama.


26
Aug 13

First day of classes

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.

But I was hungry.