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!
