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I wrote 14 pages for my second day of comprehensive exams.
I mentioned this on Facebook and the professor who gave me the question — she is a wonderful lady and a terrific inspiration; if I could be half as talented and successful and hardworking as her I’d be more than thrilled — liked my status.
I’m taking that as having passed the question. No need to spend any more time considering it!
And now I have two more days to go. Now the fun, hard, sleepy stuff begins.
Keep ’em crossed!
Took my class to CBS-42, where the news director let the students sit in master control and the studio during a newscast and gave us a tour of the station. This, of course, being sweeps. It was my first time in that particular studio. One of Samford’s recent graduates is there. A few other alumni work there as well. They were all very nice, and very gracious hosts at CBS.
And now back to other pressing things. Here are The Lemonheads:
I pulled out my box of CDs and am listening through really old stuff, like this, right now. Hard to believe that’s almost 20 years ago.
The original tune, which is just incredible by the way, is now 21. It features a guitar and chimes, and is sung by Robyn St. Clare of the Australian indie jangle pop band The Hummingbirds. Nine people in the U.S. heard this when it was released. Now anyone can find their way to it with YouTube.
To finish the joke about comedic timing from yesterday …
When I was in high school and working at Stanley Steemer — oh, the stories those people can tell about the people they meet on a daily basis — I befriended this guy who was about 10 years older than me. He had the best music and stories and he’d been places and done things and was just a very interesting person to talk to. We worked well together, made a lot of money and someone made a running joke that he was my father. This was funny because the age difference wasn’t that great and, also, because he was of recent Japanese descent.
So Jon would say these worldly, funny things all the time and we eventually starting ripping off a Saturday Night Live/Kung Fu joke. It was an SNL bit from before my time watching the show, but I caught on to the shtick. He would say something interesting and I would say, “Ah yes, but Master, why do you call me Grasshopper?”
He would close his eyes and say, “Because you are ugly, like insect.”
This went on for months.
And then one morning Jon says, “Oh, and the master’s blind.”
You had to be there.
Busy day today. Had lunch with The Yankee, who was hosting students at a conference, and our friend Brian. After that I finished my class prep, taught, ran this errand and that. The day gets away from you when you never sit down.
And, you’ll be proud, I taught so hard I hurt my back.
Still not sure how that happened.
This class last Thursday was canceled because of ice falling to the earth without having the decency to melt. So I felt compelled to get part of that session in today too. There was the social media presentation, and a big handful of other things to discuss. Got them out on time, though, and knocked off all but two things on the list. After two small meetings after class there I retired to my office and listened as the staff put their newspaper to bed. This is the week of Step Sing, the big song and dance revue which dominates Samford for the first part of the spring term. Everyone puts a lot of time into, and a lot of the paper people are involved. They’re all working hard in about six different directions at once. They’re tackling it all with good morale, though, so that’s encouraging.
Did a lot of administrative stuff today. Followed up on phone calls and Emails and marveled at how that job never seems to end. I got one step closer to putting one of the big outstanding projects behind me. I’ll knock that out tomorrow. Another I should also be able to soon finish and pass along to others. This is good progress, resolving the things eat into your best intentions. That’s where I am now, on the edge of being able to pull myself up that ledge, so I can proceed a-pace.
A-pace being something slightly more productive than treading water. Until you get there, though, you just have to try and stay afloat.
I don’t know how it is now, but I did these summer day camps at the local YMCA when I was young. One of the programs at our Y had to do with the wonderfully over-chlorinated indoor pool. Yes, this has changed. Anyway, there was a graduated system of developing swimming skills. You achieved things! Got a membership card! And a cool fish name! At the top of the scale, of course, was the shark. I believe there used to be a dolphin or porpoise in the mix, but if so that’s gone. Somewhere along the way toward the top of this system we had to tread water. I think it was for six days. Or 75 minutes or an hour. Whichever was most agonizing.
I hated that.
I also seemed to remember having to inflate a pair of jeans and float on them in some bogus boat-rescue exercise, but I could be conflating that with lifeguard drills.
Anyway. I can keep my head a-float and a-pace like nobody’s a-business.
Lots of things have changed in the ol’ swimming game, just to veer off to something random because when I think of pools I think of warmth and the current temperatures are the opposite of that. The Yankee and I were both certified as lifeguards once upon a time and we occasionally shock people with this story.
When I certified, lifeguard training and the protocols they used for rescue were a lot more aggressive than they are today. If you were in distress the lifeguard came to get you. If you panicked and fought the lifeguard off the lifeguard might fight back, because you ruined his or her tanning lotion. Or, on a really good day, the lifeguard might put you under the water (which ALWAYS adds to your clarity). A lot of people are shocked to hear this. These days they throw in a float and tell you to grab it. If they do get wet, they are trained to wait until the person goes under before going in.
This just takes all the fun out of it, and is when I lost interest in the lifeguarding game. Not that I ever had interest, really, but the mountain was there, and so I learned how to climb it.
There. Aren’t we all warmer now for having heard that little story? It is going to snow here tomorrow.
Busy day. The kind where I finally got around to lunch at almost 2 p.m.
Handful of meetings before that. Catching up with people, wrapping up old things, setting course for new projects and all of that.
And then there was class. Fourteen bright young minds sitting in a too-warm room hearing about what they’ve gotten themselves into for the next 13 weeks. It was fun. They’ll take field trips and write a lot and give some presentations. They’ll have to put up with me. But aside from that last part it is a good course. I’ll talk a lot about journalism, but it is an intro class, so there’s a great deal of public relations and advertising, too.
Otherwise, I’m just trying to get back into the swing of things. I love my holiday break, could use some more of it and yet am terribly, wonderfully spoiled by it. This week has not eased back into the routine, but just puts you squarely in it. Not violently. There’s been nothing brutish or shocking about it. Just work. Here it is. And here’s another thing or two. Do enjoy. And don’t forget those Emails and phone calls.
I broke my office phone today, somehow. I have an old touchtone job, one of those that immediately replaced the rotary phones. Suddenly the numbers don’t do anything. Very odd.
I began watching the BBC’s Robin Hood this evening. It has been well received and it is on Netflix, so why not. I watched one episode and realized “This is like Kevin Sorbo as Hercules, but only a third as cartoonish.”
Which was good, because it instantly became background sound, not requiring any real attention. Ascertain the plot, ignore the fight sequences. No one ever really gets hurt. Everyone always escapes captivity. Robin Hood is a terrific shot. We get it.
Here’s the opening sequence:
First of all, how did those guards and horses sneak up on the hunter? Second, the guards never have such an opportunity to share as much character or dialog as they do here. The guards turn into red shirts, willing to spar, easy to knock off. Now the Sheriff, the villian, is delightfully funny.
His heavy is the most cardboard character you’ve seen in a while, though.
The biggest things are the modern sensibilities, put I’m a fantasy character purist. Fiction should be just so. The 20th and 21st Century were deliberately shoehorned into a tale set in the 12th. Of course there is modern foreign policy symbolism for the BBC viewing audience. They are not very subtle about it, but you’ve trained yourself to excuse much of that, anyway. One character, who only appears for one episode (so far) was wearing modern camouflage. The clip you just saw shows one of the evil character demonstrating a remarkable alacrity for wigs and latex disguises. These sorts of things take me right out of it, but then Robin Hood shoots his bow and the music blares and we’re off on another easy adventure!
When they inevitably make the American version they need Paul Giamatti as Much.
