19
Feb 25

Over the snow and over the river

About last Wednesday … since I’m catching up from missing out on the week, and writing two weeks at one time …

It snowed Tuesday night, and well into the night. We woke up Wednesday morning to about four inches of snow in the great wide world. I set out to shovel it, so I could make my way to campus, but it was the thick heavy wet snow. Back straining work.

We have this snowblower. Last winter, we came back from a trip to find about eight inches of snow on the driveway. And it was a cold, cold evening. So as we shoveled all of that out of the way, there was no hope the exercise would mean body heat. A few days later, my lovely bride came home with a snowblower.

I assembled it, sorta, but never filled it with oil and gas. It didn’t snow again. So I put the blower in the shed and let it stay there until winter came back around. When the first big storm was forecast, I fetched the thing, went to the hardware store to get a few bolts and nuts to make the handles work as intended … and then watched two small snows, which< i estimated, weren't worth dealing with. But last Wednesday was the day. I've never run a snowblower and had no idea what to expect. I was a bit disappointed by the thrown.

But, snow blowed. Probably, walking up and down the driveway a few times was better than walking up and down the driveway and shoveling.

What’s great is that the roads were clear. So I went to campus and taught a class. We talked about books and printing.

By the time I got home that night, there was no snow in the way of anything. So I’m not sure if we needed that snowblower, but snow blowed, it works. (Now let me stow it away for the year once again … )

And then I started writing, which I did Thursday and Friday of last week, and will talk more about in subsequent posts. For now, we have to talk about today.

In today’s class, we talked about film making in various parts of the world. When it dragged, I turned the entire conversation to stereotypes, reinvigorating the class. But the problem is, you can really only use that one once or twice a term. But it did let me ask them what they thought when I told them where I was from. After a respectful pause, they got into it, and we all had a nice laugh.

One guy said, Country white. I asked him what that meant, and he thought I drove great big tractors. I said, no, I’m from the suburbs. And he said Lexus, then.

“Wrong suburbs.”

Then I told them about the Birmingham Bowl of 2010, when UConn was one of the teams and so the advertisements enticing fans of the Huskies to come on down. There, in the newspaper was an ad for the Wynfrey Hotel, a legitimate four-star establishment, proudly advertising their cable television and fitted sheets. My lovely bride’s old friends saw that ad and had a great time making fun of that.

“See,” I said, “stereotypes.”

For the record, we had running water, silverware, electrified crossing lights and everything.

This evening we set out to go over the river.

And if you go over the river, you have to cross a bridge. And wouldn’t you know it, we timed it just right for a dramatic sky, once again.

We had dinner at the James Beard nominated Kampar. We’ve been there three times in the last four months or so, and that’s apparently enough to make us regulars. People recognize us, which is funny because it’s a hopping little place, but they’ve set themselves up with a cheery, Malaysian corner store vibe. We came back with leftovers, and I am going to eat them soon.

I wonder when we’ll go back. It might not be long.

We went to the Miller Theater, the go-to place for traveling Broadway shows. Built in 1918, it’s only been the Miller for a few years. Originally it was the Sam S. Shubert Theatre and starting in 1991, the Merriam Theater. It’s only been the Miller since 2022. Names mean a lot. I wonder how many people use the old names.

Here’s the ceiling in the theater, which may or may not have been updated in a 1980s renovation. About it are six floors of offices and classrooms.

Here was the show we saw, the main players from Queer Eye are starting a tour. This was the first show, and it was a noisy, happy, loud, all over the place conversation. At least one of them needs to be taught that you don’t have to yell into a microphone.

It wasn’t my show, but it was a good experience, and a good fact finding effort. It was easy to get to the theater. We parked just a few blocks away. Getting inside was no harder than going up a long flight of stairs. We were able to exit the theater with ease. And they offer a Broadway bundle pack: here are the 16 shows this season, you pick four. We’ll probably try that next year.

Tomorrow, I will continue grading, and continue to catch us up on next week.


18
Feb 25

Now, finally, a card carrying member of the local library

Last Tuesday, since I’m touching on two weeks in one, the winter weather rolled in. We were on campus, because I rode in with my lovely bride. This was the before.

She had her two classes to teach. I sat in the office for a while and tried to get in some work.

My students were reading and writing about Tarleton Gillespie’s Politics of Platforms. The abstract, if you’re interested in this sort of thing.

Online content providers such as YouTube are carefully positioning themselves to users, clients, advertisers and policymakers, making strategic claims for what they do and do not do, and how their place in the information landscape should be understood. One term in particular, ‘platform’, reveals the contours of this discursive work. The term has been deployed in both their populist appeals and their marketing pitches, sometimes as technical ‘platforms’, sometimes as ‘platforms’ from which to speak, sometimes as ‘platforms’ of opportunity. Whatever tensions exist in serving all of these constituencies are carefully elided. The term also fits their efforts to shape information policy, where they seek protection for facilitating user expression, yet also seek limited liability for what those users say. As these providers become the curators of public discourse, we must examine the roles they aim to play, and the terms by which they hope to be judged.

It’s a 2010 piece, and it reads like it. There’s nothing wrong with it, but those 15 years are about 40 in social media years, I think. Despite it feeling far away from the students, in perhaps more ways than one, it remains an excellent foundational piece for what is to come in the class. And I have to read 71 students reactions to the piece. And also comment on what they say. It’s fun. Sometimes it is challenging in the best kind of way. But it is time consuming.

In the afternoon I visited another class that I’m not teaching, but I am working with a bit this semester. Students are making videos and I guess I am acting as a client-consultant. Two weeks ago, I gave them their first briefing. Last Tuesday, they came back with proposals. And they had to get that in quickly, because of that weather that was rolling in during the early evening.

We left campus at 4:45, as campus closed and the snow was starting. There are a lot of commuters on our campus, and so they wanted to get everyone back to where they needed to be, just in case some real weather hit the roads. Sensible. We made it safely. It looked like this.

And the snow, in the end, wasn’t that bad. But I’ll right about last Wednesday tomorrow. Today, I must turn to today.

While last week was so busy, I am returning to my normal pace this week. Just a few days on campus, and much of my work done in the home office. While those students were reading Gillespise then, I am now looking at the work they’ve put into the next reading assignment, Bernie Hogan’s The Presentation of Self. The abstract:

Presentation of self (via Goffman) is becoming increasingly popular as a means for explaining differences in meaning and activity of online participation. This article argues that self-presentation can be split into performances, which take place in synchronous “situations,” and artifacts, which take place in asynchronous “exhibitions.” Goffman’s dramaturgical approach (including the notions of front and back stage) focuses on situations. Social media, on the other hand, frequently employs exhibitions, such as lists of status updates and sets of photos, alongside situational activities, such as chatting. A key difference in exhibitions is the virtual “curator” that manages and redistributes this digital content. This article introduces the exhibitional approach and the curator and suggests ways in which this approach can extend present work concerning online presentation of self. It introduces a theory of “lowest common denominator” culture employing the exhibitional approach.

I find this to be a challenging piece, because Hogan brings in several really important concepts and weaves them together. He does a nice job with it, but there’s Goffman, there’s the ancient (to modern students, anyway) German critic and theorist Walter Benjamin, environmental psychology with Roger Barker, some computer science with danah boyd (who not everyone understands), electronic media with the impressive Joshua Meyrowitz and on and on. There’s a lot going on.

Everytime I read this one, I pull apart something new. And I find it is a good litmus to see where students are. One part of this assignment asks them to ask a question about the reading. I answer the questions. Some of them ask about elements that are very practical, or otherwise operational, and that’s great. Some of them ask about the conceptual or theoretical elements of the reading, and that’s terrific. And, for whatever reason, what they ask about here is a self-sorter for the rest of the term. Neither is bad, and both are necessary, but you can get a real sense of most of the people based on how they approach that particular reading. It’s interesting, and I’d like to know more of why that is.

Anyway, last week, and last Tuesday were busy. Today, I’ve just begun reading about this Hogan paper. And then I took the recycling to the inconvenience center across town.

On the way back, I finally stopped at the local library for the first time. I got a card. Paid two bucks for the privilege. Listened to two old volunteers struggle through the new library member process and, then, bicker about world events. One couldn’t believe this was going on, and surely it won’t get worse. The other could not stand to talk about it, saying it made them ill. They were discussing Medicare and Medicaid at the moment, and if that’s the prism through which they see everything, that’ll tell them enough. And it will get worse.

I found this inside one book, which I did not check out.

It’s a small enough library that, even though there’s only one fiction series I read — Craig Johnson’s Longmire is a guilty pleasure. I generally read history and biography, but I have stacks of those, floor to ceiling, here at home already.

Anyway, I’ve been trying to get to that library for what seems like ages, and today was that day. I got the three most recent books from that series the library holds, but I’ve already read two of them. I’ll read the third next weekend. After that, I suppose I’ll be taking advantages of the wonderful interlibrary loan system. I too, could benefit from reading a tiny bit less news. Where I’ll cram it in, I don’t know, but I’ll start with weekends, I think.


17
Feb 25

Welcome back

Yes, I’m aware you didn’t go anywhere, it was actually my departure several days back. But last week required even more attention than normal. I went to campus every day last week. And that’s nothing, of course. Most people have these job things. But I did that daily, and then went home where I still had to work on three-quarters of my regular weekly workload. And I also had a massive project on the side that took about 40 percent or more of the week, besides. But we’ll get to all of that.

First, since I’ve been negligent, and it was made clear that this is my fault, let’s cover the site’s most popular feature, the weekly check in with the kitties.

This is the expression you get when you aren’t holding up your end of things, by the way.

You know what to do.

When Phoebe was sufficiently satisfied that I was remedying the problem, she was able to relax and take a nap.

But our cats are big on shift changes. So while Phoebe napped, Poseidon kept an eye on me. Get the post up, he seems to be saying.

And even when I convinced him, he remained skeptical. He’s always watching.

The cat just wants to be loved, and he never gets any attention. Just ask him.

Anyway, my reaction to the cats is best expressed as Uncle Samuel L. Jackson.

Monday of last week, in my International Media class, we spent about 15 minutes talking about the Super Bowl and the halftime show. They had, of course, picked up on some of the symbolism, and they told me about some things I’d missed. I was able to share a few things that hadn’t caught up to them. It was a good way to warm up the class, and then I asked, “The Super Bowl, start to finish, including the halftime show, is one of our largest media exports. What does that show say about us to people in other parts of the world?”

And on that, I let them think. We talked last week about media and culture, and I could sense the moment where they were ready to move on, but I also know, and knew, what was coming ahead in the class. This week we’re talking about film in places like northern Indian, Saudi Arabia, France and China. All of which is a bit of cultural importation and exportation. It’s going to be a recurring theme in the class. We’re talking about media, but culture is at the heart of it all. They’ll see. Perhaps as soon as this week.

Anyway, this was much of the mood last week. Cold, distant, but improving and optimistic. Some of that is about spring, which will never arrive. And some of it was everything that demanded attention.

It was also bright, for all that had to get done. If it could get done, meaning it was all gray. Very gray. Would I get it all done? Stick around here to find out.

Until then, mind your gauges.

And keep it 600.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go present myself to an intro sports media class, for a bit of the “This is who we are and this is what we do” song and dance.


07
Feb 25

See you in a week

I went to campus three days this week. And if that sounds like a complaint, it is not. Looking ahead, I’ll be on campus every day next week. That’s not a complaint, either. I’ll still have to find to do a full week’s worth of work away from campus, as well. It’s going to be a busy one.

I think I’ll take the week off from the site, just to get in all of the grading and the writing and the other stuff I’ll be doing just to keep my nose above water.

So, sadly, this post will be the placeholder for the next week.

Look! Here’s a shot from today’s 20-mile ride.

Just another month or two of riding in the basement. I’m over riding in the basement.

At lunchtime today, I heard them. And then the sky darkened. The light literally, actually, dimmed. And when I got outside …

  

They flew from the fields to the southwest, over the house, across the road, did a giant loop over Joe The Elder’s place, and then came back for more.

They come and they go, and then they don’t come back the rest of the day. The ideal way to enjoy a noisy, noisy air show.

Catch you on the flip side. (If the birds don’t get me.)


06
Feb 25

True or false or maybe

I am floating rib deep into grading. I have 60-something quizzes to work through, and of course, there are plenty of other things as well. So let’s just get through this, shall we?

I have updated the art on the front page. It looks a lot like this.

Head on over to kennysmith.org to see the whole thing. If you sit with it for 50 seconds, you’ll see the whole assortment of 10 new photographs that I took on a beautiful spring day in central California last year. We were waiting for a lunch order over this beautiful bit of sand and sea. And I’ve held on to these photos specifically just to get through the interminable second half of winter.

I had a short bike ride this evening. It took me high into the snowcapped mountains. But I want you to look off to the side of this photo. Do you see that road?

That’s the radio tower bonus climb, sure to strike fear in the hearts of every exhausted rider, who has already slogged their way up the Epic KOM, climbing 1,364 feet over 5.9 miles from sea level. That bonus climb is an even sharper three-quarters of a mile, with an average gradient of 12.8 percent, demanding another 492 feet of ascent. I hate it.

But the route didn’t take up to that tower. I just pedaled right by, to my great relief (I don’t always know where a route will take me) and then back down into the tree line, where the green things grow, and the windmills mill.

In total, it was just a 22 mile ride, and pretty slow, even for me. But I did somehow collect four PRs on Strava segments along the away, including on two climbs.

Small wins are huge wins.

And, now, back to getting ready for more work.