Rowan « Kenny Smith | A remarkable thing happens …

Rowan

cycling / photo / Rowan / Wednesday — Comments Off
6
Aug 25

Progress continues to be made

Just another mild, gray August day. Weird in the ways that any day can be when it’s warm, but pleasant, but overcast. Is this cloud cover? Is it Canada on fire? Why do both feel equally ominous when clearly one is worse than the other?

I went to campus today to visit with a colleague. We are discussing a class and she has been most generous with her time and thoughts and we had a nice hour-long chat today. I came away from it with several pages of notes. And now I can complete my preparations for that class. The rest will just be execution.

Pretty soon I’ll have two of these classes under control. I’m not sure if I am behind schedule or right on time. It depends on when the thought occur.

I also went downstairs to the classroom I’ll be in this fall to test the equipment and play some videos. I had seven to try and six worked perfectly. The other will too, in time. And, for that, I have time. That class only needs a few supplemental sets of notes and two extra bits of source material before I can call it done. And that’s what the rest of this week will be about.

But if you ask me right now, it’s that other other class that’ll keep me stressed out between now and December. So far, it is just a few pages of notes. Helpful, structurally useful, but hardly complete. Fortunately, I live with, and share a campus office with, a person who knows all about that class. The material I know. The sequence of the class is what I have to wrap my arms around. And being fully prepared is what next week will be about.

When I got home my lovely bride was off riding her bike and doing a run with the tri club. So I set off for a quick evening ride. Just 15 miles to be moving in the breeze. To feel a few raindrops on my skin. To enjoy those brilliant August skies.

This was our basic “You’ve got an hour to ride” route. It’s a simple out-and-back, and there are a few places you can add a loop or two to make an easy 20 miler if you like. But let me demonstrate to you what I’ve been complaining about, when I’ve lately been complaining about the wind.

When I headed out, NNW, I get to the next little crossroads town and there are two flag poles. Flag poles, hold flags, of course, and flags are useful for telling a story. On the way out, I passed two flags that said “right-to-left crosswind.” And a reasonable one, too, these flags were on full display, and that wasn’t surprising because I had been experiencing for 18 minutes. When I came back reversing my course and on my way home, 12 minutes later, the first flag said “left-to-right crosswind.” The other said “headwind.”

Look how close together these flagpoles are!

I’m hardly an expert in this, but Strava tells me I’ve passed by that spot, at least going one way, 48 times. So I know a little bit. And it doesn’t take a northern European or a meteorologist to look behind that fire station and see that the background doesn’t change between in that short a distance, 269 feet!

But the wind surely can.

We’ve been on an animal cracker kick lately, and I’ve noticed that we somehow purchased the generative AI version of animals. These are the animals from Pandora, better known to the Na’vi, than us.

And if they aren’t “James Cameron Presents: Animal Crackers” just which planet are these mutant animal crackers from?

photo / Rowan / Wednesday — Comments Off
30
Jul 25

That’s a good thing

Someone decided that Zoom meetings should last an hour. That’s probably too long, but you can get a lot of stuff done in an hour. And that’s a good thing. There’s always the pleasant surprise when some of them wrap up even more quickly. On the other hand, sometimes they can run longer. And at 90 minutes today, I tried the first of the “thanks” and “goodbyes.” Later, I was more successful with the “thank yous” and “get outta heres.”

It was a beneficial meeting. I got a page full of notes. Some clarity was brought to plans. We have two separate steps of action to take, and also another new role for me at the office.

If anyone is keeping track, I’m now sitting on five departmental committees, and chairing one of them. I’m also on a university committee. And then I have this new thing, which has to do with social media, which I regard as a hazing prank. There’s also the Center, for which I write. I wrote something today, in fact. And then I am doing new class preps seven, eight and nine this term. I have been here four terms so far.

The social media thing is directing a student employee who is working on departmental socials. This is as hard as you want it to be, and can be as fruitful as you want it to be. The good news is that I have a returning student to help light the way, and it is a person I’ve had in two classes, so we have some familiarity. And we have a meeting set for tomorrow, now. So two meetings, two days in a row, and it’s July.

I’m not even on the clock, technically.

Speaking of social media, I braved Instagram today, trying to search for something from both my memory and the even more vague and forgetful algorithm. Finally got frustrated with the whole enterprise, which led me to this funny, not self-referential haha, but also not self-aware haha.

It doesn’t become self-aware, in my view, until it cleans up its act.

The thing I wrote, which should be published later this week, is a 1,200 word column about baseball. It’s not hard. It’s fun — except for the part where my computer crashed. That was a setback. And that took up most of the rest of the day, a day which was just too hot to do anything else but to sit and sweat. And have meetings.

The herb I mentioned last week? Spearmint. And, friend, we have a lot of it.

Not pictured: the rest of it.

You can use it in teas, salads, ointments and chew on the leaves. (The novelty of that one wears off quickly.) You can preserve it. Why you need to preserve spearmint escapes me. You can’t get rid of the stuff.

I have also, today, settled on the schedule of my Criticism class. I selected two more great readings for it today. One or two more of those and the full outline will be complete, leaving me just the course, the syllabus and the slides to make. So I’m on schedule? Because, like everyone else, I forgot there is a 31st day in July. Yay! More time to work during my time off! (It’s a good thing.)

photo / Rowan / Wednesday — Comments Off
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.

adventures / Monday / photo / Rowan / video — Comments Off
19
May 25

Whose Monday is it anyway?

All the grades got in on Friday, and the semester is at an end, but there are still meetings. Today was a full day of it, so it wasn’t a meeting. The normal faculty thing runs 90 minutes or so, and that’s a meeting. But somewhere after two hours they aren’t meetings anymore. Apparently that’s a rule. Today’s events, which ran for six hours and included a taco lunch, was called a retreat.

After this we had a retirement party. One of our colleagues is winding down her career this summer and looking forward to more time with grandchildren. There was a little party with a big turnout, testament to a career well spent.

I’ve seen a few faculty retirements like this. Some of them have nice little events, some just go quietly into their next chapter. It’s a shame that there isn’t an easy way to get former students involved. Then it could be a happy window into how a career is spent, a testament to the labors.

We had a moment in our retreat today where we discussed what we were proud of this year. I’ve been on the same kick for two or three years now, I guess. Previously, I was always happy to see my students and former students successes in the class, in their student media and their professional work. But, in the last several years, I’ve watched people grow into their real lives and realized that, of all of the things I enjoy — watching people find their passions, seeing light bulb moments in class, that’s the best. One of my first students is a chief marketing officer and founder of a company, but she’s also created an incredible family. Two of my students are professors, one of those guys is now a father of three. Earlier this year two of my students got married. Just this weekend a former student had his son dedicated at his church. Another just had her baby right before Mother’s Day. And another just posted a video where he and his wife learned they were having a boy.

We get young people in a critical moment of their lives. When we’re lucky, we have interactions with them through several years of their college lives. You watch them start to become the adults they want to be. And then, in those years after that without parents or schools dictating their lives, they begin to find themselves, for themselves. At some level, standing in the front of a classroom is a statement of hope and faith in the future of people. Those are the widgets we help make. You’re lucky if you see any of it; you’d like to see more.

Which is probably a little too woo-woo for a Monday evening.

Anyway, we went to a high school softball game this evening. My god-niece-in-law (just go with it) was playing first base in the playoffs. It was the Jaguars, who everyone loves, visiting the Raiders, a team nobody likes very much. The Jags got down early, but then a solo home run turned into a late rally. It was a pitchers duel that turned into a runaway, but got awfully dramatic in the sixth and seventh innings. The Raiders, who nobody likes very much, held on to win 8-6. You could look up to their press box and see all of their big regional and state wins hanging on the side of the building. I don’t know anything about the local softball history, but they looked like a good team tonight. And thus endeth the Jaguars season. Enjoy it now, Raiders. Our god-niece-in-law will surely see them again in her senior season.

I saw something on Saturday I’ve never seen before, a fire truck, of some sort, with a roll cage.

I wondered what the local three-street volunteer fire department figures they’ll need that for. Then I did the thing that I do, and I looked it up. Apparently it’s an effective tool for watering fields from multiple vectors. So perhaps preventing or fighting brush fires. It’s also great in parades. And let us hope that this is the only cause they have to use the thing.

Saturday night was a perfect spring night. I sat outside for a long while and admired the stars.

While I was doing that we got last-minute tickets to see Whose Live for Sunday night. Apparently the show was supposed to be elsewhere, but they had to change venues for whatever reason. That meant that a friend couldn’t go, and so there we were, right next to the stage.

A few years ago we saw a version of the show, and last month we saw a two-man version with Colin Mochrie and Brand Sherwood. So I guess we’re regulars now?

Anyhow, they played games you might recall from Whose Line Is It Anyway, and there’s another thing or two mixed in, as well. It’s all audience driven, either in the starting material, or with audience-as-players. The hit of the night was a couple who’d been married for 37 years. They pumped them for information about their early lives together, and then “recreated” their first date. The gag was that the man and the woman had to indicate when they got the facts right or wrong. They looked very much like the comfortably settled teachers and pillars of their church community that they were, and the whole bit was about trying to get the two of them to disagree with some aspect of what was playing out before them, to comedic effect.

It sounds dry, but imagine getting the high points of anyone’s lives in a two or three-minute interview and then playing that for laughs. It worked. Also, the proud Episcopalians like their beverages. A lot, it seems. So that figures in.

Anyway, at the end of the show they did a bonus hoedown. And the second guy, Joel Murray, stole the obvious “Fly Eagles Fly” pandering go-home line. Jeff B. Davis threw his hands into the air and had just seconds to work up something useful, and he remembered the man and woman.

They’re touring for most of the rest of the year, and each show is a bit different. Catch them if you can. Come October, we might see them once again!

Rowan / Wednesday — Comments Off
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.