Thursday, January 31, 2013

Happy National Gorilla Suit Day!

I didn't actually ever spot the Gorilla running around today, but I spoke with plenty who had! Yes, indeed, today was National Gorilla Suit Day, a day made famous by MAD magazine's Don Martin and promoted by my good friend, SamJ. He was even known to rent a suit and go to his dialysis appointment, should it happen to fall on January 31st!
As I said, I have it on good authority from both my bfe and my librarian friend that a big Gorilla was, indeed, running around on campus in the morning hours, making a guest appearance in the library. And I missed it! Drats! And when the librarian and I went to lunch on campus, I heard that the big Gorilla had been there as well, and I had missed him by twenty minutes or so. Drats, foiled again! And later, after visiting the soon-ending art exhibit, I bopped over to the home of the big Gorilla, only to find he was gone for the day. Double drats!! But he was online last night and reassured me that there would be pictures, so I will try to be patient, a skill I am working on.
Interestingly, the big Gorilla didn't even know about NGSD until I told him last fall. During convocation, the fact was revealed that the new man on campus OWNED a gorilla suit. Let me say that again: he actually OWNS his very own gorilla suit. Wow, how totally cool, I thought, SamJ would've been so very jealous! So, afterward, I made a point of going up and introducing myself and asking him if he were a big fan of National Gorilla Suit Day. He had no idea what I was talking about.
Seriously.
The man had his OWN suit and no one had ever mentioned the special celebratory spot on the calendar reserved for Gorilla Suits. Then again, maybe he had never known anyone who knew anyone like SamJ.
Perhaps.
So, after reassuring him that there was such a day and that I would send him weblinks, I did so. And I made sure to include a link to SamJ's blog, as he was inspirational when it came to gorilla suits. The suit-owner thanked me for the links and I wondered briefly if he would be ballsy enough to act on wearing the Gorilla Suit on its special day.
Then I forgot to mark my calendar for the event. Drats!
But the Suit-Owner did mark his calendar.
Yeah!!! Now, to wait for the pictures!!!

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

wonderful Wednesday, y'all!

One of the best things about being full-time on campus is being able to attend special pomp-and-circumstance events like the convocation. The event is akin to a Presidential State of the Union address, meant to not only address any weak aspects, but to compliment our good points and inform us on improvements to be made.
And, afterward, there's always a nice lunch. Bonus!
I had arranged to attend, as I'm always up for these events, as I said.
The crux of this meeting concerned the upcoming inspections this spring. The inspectors will be checking to see how the new QEP is working. But also, and of more concern to those in charge, the inspectors will be checking to see how well-known the QEP is on campus. Are the students aware that there is a Quality Enhancement Plan? What about the staff, do they know of it? And, perhaps most importantly, are the faculty well-versed in the basic tenets of First Class? These are questions which keep administrators up at night.
Seriously.
Well, I consider the head administrator a friend of mine. She and I have been chatting over coffee and at events (from tree-planting to art show receptions to wherever we happen to be together), for the past three years and we have found we have several things in common. Nice! We are always sure to give each other a warm hug, too!
So, there we were, chatting post-convocation, and the concern over spreading the word about the QEP arose. Out of nowhere, the words spring out of my mouth: Why not have practice runs on campus before the investigators arrive? Why not have folks get randomly stopped and asked about the QEP? If they don't know, then would be the time to educate them. If they DO know, and can briefly describe First Class, why not reward them with a pin or something that they can show off? You know, give them bragging rights!
Let me tell you, she LOVED the idea! Much excitement! She called over others to have them note the idea and made sure they wrote my name, too. Wow! And soon it was being determined what type of reward... pins would be good, pins that maybe said "First Class"... and what a boon it would be to surprise the investigators with an informed and active community before their very eyes!
Sometimes, I have no idea what my mind is coming up with next. Like that time I was talking about the chairs in my dining room being in an aromatic configuration...
Bit I digress.
I can say that those words to the administrator friend were derived from my marriage for fifteen years to a man in advertising, all the while listening to his ideas and concerns and analyses of current ad campaigns.
See, I did listen. Thankfully.
I'll be very interested to see how this works out!
After the luncheon, I resumed my regularly scheduled activities.
And after THAT, I was off to the latest Wednesday night offering by the PFS. Woohoo! Film noir with my bfe! The film was from 1952, "Kansas City Confidential", and was one I had been eagerly anticipating. I'm a fan of noir and the whole good-guy-triumphing-over-evil thing, especially, and although I can't ever seem to match the man's face with his name, I like John Payne, too. He fits right in with old time favorites like Montgomery CLift and Gregory Peck, you know? But in a more rugged, yet more sensitive, style.
So, there I was having a marvelous day, spending the tail end of that day sitting with my bfe watching a good, old, movie, on the couch he had snagged for us at the coffee house. Usually, we were the only ones on the couch; tonight, there was a third, a fellow I had spoken with before about the house tomato soup. I was in the middle.
I like to give my bfe plenty of room. In the past, I've gotten the impression he preferred it that way. Not tonight. When I settled back to watch the movie, I became aware that my arm was touching his... and he was keeping it that way. Then, my arm was allowed to slip down a little farther, and I could feel his chest rising as he breathed. And we stayed that way, amazingly.
I was being nestled.
So very nice.
You know how I am about touch.
And I just settled into his touch there, enjoying his company, breathing the air together, watching an old black and white film made before either of us were born.
How very soothing... and what a marvelous end to my golden day...

Sunday, January 27, 2013

science, symphony, cirque!

Yesterday morning started early, much earlier than a Saturday had done for a long time for me. But it was definitely worth it! I was a reader at the regional-level Science Bowl, a high-school competition. I've volunteered for it for the past few years and enjoy interacting with those students and their coaches. The whole experience reminds me of the after-school science projects I was fortunate enough to be part of in high school! Even my stuffy sinuses couldn't dull my enthusiasm today!
My bfe was the table judge for the room I was assigned to - another good thing! Though he did razz me about my pronunciation of the some of the foreign names, but, like, really??? How does Euler get pronounced "oil' er"??? Ah, well, I don't know that it made any difference to the students, nor to their coaches, so all was right in the world... and continued to be so!
After the Science Bowl, when all had their fill of pizza and soda and had pictures to show the folks back home, he and I set off for South Carolina. Woohoo! We had each brought our travel bags to the school, so it was a simple matter of va-va-va-VROOM!
We were off to the Symphony, you see. We'd had this trip planned since late Jeffvember - er, that would be November to most folks! - when I had been reminded of his enjoyment of live presentations of classical music. It was too late to catch anything he was interested in that month, and December would be too busy, but January? Definitely doable! I had gone ahead and gotten the seats, as the show was almost sold out, and I had even been fortunate enough to snag two seats in the front row in the balcony. Major score!!!
And now it was finally time for us to travel to Charleston, with plenty of driving-around-at-whatever-pace for the trip. Very nice!
We even had a few moments for an impromptu visit at the Farmhouse Antiques and Neat Stuff store on the side of road, boasting everything from books to fireworks to pink flamingoes and flying pigs. Really! We made a nice leisurely rest stop of it, wandering all over the property, picking up this, touching that. Okay, all of that touching of stuff was mostly me, since I wouldn't keep my hands in my pockets as I had been taught to do. But he did some, too. Yes, he did! And I found a lovely wooden sea turtle for myself and a hope-this-cheers-you-up gift (Batman coasters!!) for my huggable karate friend who's had a rough patch of luck lately.
Then on up to Charleston we drove, to the only downtown antebellum hotel there. Near the theatre and downtown? Sah-weet! And it's a historic building? Even nicer! And it really was.
We dropped off our stuff in the third-floor room and went off to explore the city. After wandering in the wrong direction for quite a while in the cold, we retraced our steps to the hotel, went up to get warmer accessories, then went in search of the symphony venue again. And, again, after a bit of misstepping, we DID finally locate the Sottile Theatre. Boasting a new marquee on King Street - well, new since I was last there two years ago - and its red carpet, the setting was right for the event that night!
We had an hour to spare, so off to Taziki's for a quick dinner, treat of the bfe. Woohoo! Grilled lamb gyro for me and Greek salad gyro for him and we were good to go. Mighty tasty, but not heavy - yum! But no time for dessert, as we needed to claim our seats for the Cirque de la Symphonie!
Yeah, you heard that right: Cirque de la Symphonie. The Charleston Symphony had arranged to have four entertainers from Cirque Du Soleil to participate in portions of their show. How very supercool! A juggler, a magician and lovely assistant, a box-twirler, a red ribbon swirler, and two sparkling aerialists, interspersed with and enhanced by the works of Antonin Dvorak, Georges Bizet, Piotr Ilych Tchaichovsky, Bedrich Smetana and others... Wow! Many of the works were familiar to me, as they were pulled from Swan Lake, Sleeping Beauty, Carmen, other theatrical dance presentations, and that was wonderful, too. I could really enjoy the music AND the visual artistry of the Cirque troup! And when it was done, we both sat and allowed it to soak in, as the theatre emptied and the musicians cased their instruments and left. Then we took our leave, exiting to the brisk air of a night in January.
How about some baklava? Sure, that would be nice. Why don't we try this place across the street? Sure, it looks like it would have baklava! And Manny's Mediterranean Cafe did, indeed, have baklava, as well as bottomless cups of coffee and hot tea. What a great bonus! And we sat there and I had my baklava with the drizzled honey, and we talked and talked. At one point, we were concerned that we might be keeping them late with our meager fare, so we asked: "What time do you close?" "Not until 3 AM," the young woman answered. And then she gave us more coffee and hot tea! So we stayed a bit longer, until the late night crowd started bustling in, then we made sure of the quickest route back to the warm hotel and made it there with not wrong turns. Yeah for us!
What a marvelous Saturday, wrong turns and detours and all!


Thursday, January 24, 2013

for the effervescent JinHi

If I were a fairy godmother,
I would wave my magic wand,
And all cancerous growths would be removed from your body and banished forevermore.
Alas, I am not.
If I were the world’s most talented doctor,
I would wield my skillful scalpel against the cancer dragon
And it would lie vanquished beneath your foot, never to rise again.
Alas, I am not.
I am a friend who holds you dear.
I am a friend who has held you dear for a long time
And want to continue to do so.
I am.
Whatever you want me to do,
to make you smile,
to make you laugh,
to make you sing and dance,
I will do.
I take special requests,
from special friends.

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

can't fix broken

Last weekend, as I was driving under the blue sky and allowing my brain to make sense of life, I had a moment of recognition.
I am still a control freak.
I keep trying to get better and I keep thinking that I am.
But I realized I am still a control freak.
You see, I've been doing my bfe a disservice by viewing him as a person with a whole heart.
But he is not.
And I cannot fix that.

I didn't take his heart and run away with it.
Someone else did.
I gave him a piece of my heart to mend his.
That is not how it works.
I know this.
Broken hearts cannot be mended from the outside.

You would think I would have learned that by now.
Especially as I have loss adjustment as an ongoing process.
Especially.


Monday, January 21, 2013

elephant swap

Tonight was the White Elephant Swap and guess what??? An elephant was actually there!
For realz!
hahaha!
Every year, No Kidding! has its annual dinner party, where all attendees have an opportunity to offload that chartreuse urn or pair of cheetah-spotted gloves to some unsuspecting soul... or two or three. You see, the way the game is played is this: all who bring a wrapped gift to swap get to select a number. Then, in order of number drawn, the player gets to choose from the amassed gifts one to open - or, and here is where the fun is, the player may opt to STEAL a gift that someone else has already opened! Oh, yeah!
The gifts range from books to decorative stockings to all manner of knick-knacks or edibles or aromatics.
And, this year, for the very first time in the five years I've attended, one of the gifts was an actual elephant.
An elephant!!!
Wow!
I was plum tickled, I tell you!
And, while I never got an opportunity to possess the elephant, three of us did, with one choosing to own it TWICE!
Which is the magic number for swaps. The gift can only be stolen twice before it finds its final owner.
Lucky devil!



Sunday, January 20, 2013

visiting family on a Sunday afternoon

When I started my journey home after a long weekend of lazy days and luxurious nights, I had not intended to make any detours. After all, I had been gone since Friday morning, when I left for a chili cook-off on Jekyll Island. I had a late start, so I missed the charity event, but they sold out, so that was all to the good.
I wandered over to McCormick's Grill, beside the golf course, still in the mood for chili and hoping to find some. And I did, a thick chili with beans and hunks of lean burger - yum! I also had their Cuban-style sandwich, featuring shredded barbequed pork instead of sliced pork loin. Very good, and the barbeque sauce in the pork added a nice ZING!
Excellent! Even better, the stop had allowed me to fulfill my New Year's Resolution for January. Bravo!
The day was still sunny, but had definitely chilled down. I decided to wander over to the beach and see if I might be fortunate enough to find any of the glass floats hidden along the shore. No, not that afternoon, and the cold, steady breeze encouraged me to move along, move along. So, I did, leaving Jekyll and heading south.
I stopped at Dave & Buster's, to pass a little time and grab a little dinner. I also wanted to drive fast cars and kill zombies! Oh, yeah! The young man behind the bar suggested the Buffalo Bar Chiks, so that is what I had for dinner. Good recommendation! Spicy, with some crunch, but still moist. Okay, I'm fueled up!
And farther south I headed, past Saint Augustine, heading for the beaches I love and the roads I know.
The next morning, I brunched at Perkins Restaurant & Bakery, another restaurant I'd never been to before. Mighty tasty eggs with sundied tomatoes and spinach and baby portobello mushrooms!! They called it the Spinach and Baby Bella Scramble. So very good, and the coffee was tasty, too. (I had a picture of it, but I guess it wandered off somewhere.)
Then it was time for another fun time on my mini-vacation: to bop over to one of my favorite little art house places, Cinematique! They were screening two films I had not yet seen back home. The first one I viewed, "Searching for Sugar Man", was a documentary about an American musician who was a legend in South Africa, but completely unknown in the States. Thought to be dead, the film chronicled the efforts of two of his fans to track down the truth about his death... and their elation at finding him alive and well and still living in Detroit. Amazing film! It even made me cry a little: how wonderful to find such a humble man!
A tour of the chocolate factory was next, a sweet way to pass the ninety minutes between films. Oh, yes, all puns intended! They still use the original red and white scale for measuring the ingredients. Incredible! We all had samples after the tour and I even bought a few treats to share with folks back home, including a s'more for my first niece and some yummy dark chocolate for me. Those two old ladies from Michigan really have good recipes!
Then back to Cinematique for the second feature. That film concerned Danish royalty and was titled "A Royal Affair". Entertaining, historical, and fabulous costumes! Not my usual cup of tea, but I still very much enjoyed it.
But now what to do? It was a bit late to head back to the 'Vannah, but I didn't want to start the morning quite this far south. But wait! I recalled a Hampton's which was practically across the street from the Dave & Buster's. Perfect! I would get there before ten, lasso up some more Buffalo Chiks for dinner, and have plenty to entertain myself for a few hours. Yeehaw!
I mean, sah-weet!
And that's just what I did, treating myself to a draft Guinness while I was at it. After all, I was on foot, and the bedroom for the night was just ten minutes' walk, so I could afford a beer or two. I only had the one, but it was a large one, and quite delicious with the spicy Chiks!
After a most restful sleep and good breakfast, I was off again, to have a leisurely cruise back home. I had even thought I might slow it down and take the beach highway once I crossed over into Georgia, but I missed the exi. No worries, no worries at all, more than one exit for that route.
And the next thing you know, I'm heading for Waycross. The conversation went something like this.
"Oops! That was the exit I meant to take."
"Oh, well, it's a beautiful blue sky day, perfect for a drive out of town. jekyll Island will be coming up soon."
"You know, that same exit will take you toward Waycross. It's been a couple of years since you made it over to the cemetery and today is such a lovely day for that."
"You're right, it has been a long time. I can take some new pictures for the family after I've cleaned things up a bit."
"Yeah, that sounds like a great idea!"
And so, when the exit arrived, I veered to the left, instead of the right, and headed toward south central Georgia. And wow, that area near the highway had grown greatly since my last pass through! There was even a Family Dollar store and it was even already open! Hey, I bet they would have flowers to beautify those family plots, you know? I mean, no sense arriving empty-handed, right?
So, I circled back and went in to the Family Dollar and found some quite pretty bunches of flowers. Nice!
They were even on sale, wonder of wonders. Very nice!
So, with six bouquets in hand, five for them and one for me, I set off for the final resting grounds for my Grandmama, my Grandpa, my Great-Grandma, my Uncle Jimmy, and my Aunt Pearl. I know Mama was quite pleased that I was tending to her family's graves, leaving signs that the folks there might be gone, but were certainly not forgotten.
Never forgotten.
And I took many pictures, shared on facebook with scattered family, with some who didn't even get to know some of these relatives in person.
But they knew some. And they knew the names.
That's important.





Thursday, January 17, 2013

you got me runnin', yeah, you got me runnin'


As I hurried across campus to my evening class, she caught my eye. Her hair streaming behind, she sped toward the very buildings I had just left, taking large strides like a girl with a purpose before her. A giant figure of light, she knew not of my existence, I was simply a small being espied from the corner of her eye, if at all.
But she occupied almost all of the sky before me.

I barely managed to snap this single picture before she was gone.

My students had seen me stop in my tracks to take the photo. I had told several that I would be sure to forward the picture to them, but I have not.
Somehow, I want the running girl to be only mine.
After all, I saw her first.
I saw her.

But perhaps I will eventually share her with those who had asked. I wonder if they will recall that Wednesday evening?

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

thanks, aaron freeman

I did NOT write the following.
I wish.
But Aaron Freeman did, and it was broadcast on NPR some few years ago, if you want to have a listen.
I have reprinted it here, so I will always know how to find it again.

*************************************************************
Copyright © 2005 National Public Radio. For personal, noncommercial use only. See Terms of Use. For other uses, prior permission required.

MICHELE NORRIS, host:

Commentator Aaron Freeman isn't a person who does much planning ahead. However, if you like to look ahead to the future, he has some advice for you, advice on planning your funeral.

AARON FREEMAN:

You want a physicist to speak at your funeral. You want the physicist to talk to your grieving family about the conservation of energy, so they will understand that your energy has not died. You want the physicist to remind your sobbing mother about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy gets created in the universe, and none is destroyed. You want your mother to know that all your energy, every vibration, every Btu of heat, every wave of every particle that was her beloved child remains with her in this world. You want the physicist to tell your weeping father that amid energies of the cosmos, you gave as good as you got.

And at one point you'd hope that the physicist would step down from the pulpit and walk to your brokenhearted spouse there in the pew and tell him that all the photons that ever bounced off your face, all the particles whose paths were interrupted by your smile, by the touch of your hair, hundreds of trillions of particles, have raced off like children, their ways forever changed by you. And as your widow rocks in the arms of a loving family, may the physicist let her know that all the photons that bounced from you were gathered in the particle detectors that are her eyes, that those photons created within her constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever.

And the physicist will remind the congregation of how much of all our energy is given off as heat. There may be a few fanning themselves with their programs as he says it. And he will tell them that the warmth that flowed through you in life is still here, still part of all that we are, even as we who mourn continue the heat of our own lives.

And you'll want the physicist to explain to those who loved you that they need not have faith; indeed, they should not have faith. Let them know that they can measure, that scientists have measured precisely the conservation of energy and found it accurate, verifiable and consistent across space and time. You can hope your family will examine the evidence and satisfy themselves that the science is sound and that they'll be comforted to know your energy's still around. According to the law of the conservation of energy, not a bit of you is gone; you're just less orderly. Amen.

(Soundbite of music)

NORRIS: Aaron Freeman is a writer and performer. He lives in Chicago.

(Soundbite of music)

MELISSA BLOCK (Host): You're listening to ALL THINGS CONSIDERED from NPR News.

Copyright © 2005 National Public Radio. All rights reserved. No quotes from the materials contained herein may be used in any media without attribution to National Public Radio. This transcript is provided for personal, noncommercial use only, pursuant to our Terms of Use. Any other use requires NPR's prior permission. Visit our permissions page for further information.

NPR transcripts are created on a rush deadline by a contractor for NPR, and accuracy and availability may vary. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Please be aware that the authoritative record of NPR's programming is the audio.
************************************************************

Monday, January 14, 2013

in the air today

My errands this morning included a visit to the cemetary.
In fact, that was my first errand today.
I had a new gift for Mama.
A new pinwheel.
Hers was not the same as mine, shown above. Its spinning petals were alternating dark orange and glittery fuchsia. Quite lovely! I know she would have liked it.
I like to have a pinwheel at her grave. I like to believe that her bit of energy is sufficient to muster the wind and propel the lightweight plastic vanes. Especially if I have made sure the vanes can easily turn on their central peg.
Which, of course, I did.
Before I even purchased the pinwheel, and three others, at a little shop oceanside at Jekyll Island, late on friday afternoon.
I had seen the wind vanes posted on the railing outside the shop, fanciful creatures and fluttery birds. Twice they had dragged at my attention as I explored the area, in search of Island Treasures. On the third pass, I went in and immediately espied the pinwheels, perched in a bucket on the top shelf, glinting in the fluorescent lights. Nice! I hadn't seen any pinwheels in ages!
And the shop had so many different color combinations for the toys! I selected the above for me, as it speaks "ocean" to me, then I selected a fuchsia and gold one - originally intended for Mama -, the dark orange and fuchsia, and a dark orange and blue (Go Gators!) for my first niece's 4-year-old boy. Her 5-year-old girl was to receive the dark orange and fuchsia, but this morning, while testing them for spin ease, I decided the girl would get the fuchsia and gold, as its spin quality was close to that of the dark orange and blue, but not quite as smooth as that of the dark orange and fuchsia.
And off I went to run my errands, including the placement of the toy of the breeze at my mother's grave.
When she first died, I kept a pinwheel there all the time. I could imagine her talking to me as I leaned on the family marker and cried at the sky. The bright pinwheel made me feel she was not so very far away, not if she were there twirling it for me.
As the pinwheel set in the elements would age and look tattered, I would replace it with a fresh one, sometimes mindful of the time of year. A green and white one for St. Patrick's Day. A patriotic red, white, and blue for the 4th of July. But mostly, bright colors.
I hadn't had any luck locating pinwheels for some time. Of course, I don't really enjoy shopping, so it's not like I was running around town, actively looking for them.
No, not quite.
Still, I hadn't seen any for a while and there had not been one at the grave for a while, either. Perhaps even for more than a year.
Flowers, of course.
And the flat stones on her gravestone, one for each of us kids, with each stone picked up and the sand below it removed before replacing it along the right-hand side of her name.
No, she wasn't Jewish, but she had been quite taken with the practice of leaving a stone at a grave to show that someone had visited.
So, anyway, there I was, a fresh, bright, sparkly pinwheel in my hand. After several false starts, I found the best site for its wand, a site which would allow it to catch any stray breaths of air near the ground.
And the pinwheel spun!
And as I raised my gaze skyward, the clear blue sky held a message for me: LoVe. A puffy, rectangular grouping of alternating uppercase block letters and lowercase italicized letters, wafting right above me as I stood by Mama's grave.
I stood there in shock, watching as it fluttered above me, intact and legible.
Within ninety seconds, the message was gone, dissipated into the air from whence it had formed.
I turned toward my car, thinking of my camera, too late to be useful... and saw, moving straight toward me, a huge, shifting, patchwork heart. I could almost hear it beating. The blobs of white forming the heart danced and shifted, danced and shifted, and would have shimmered if the clouds had found that possible.
Then it faded away in all directions, the pieces no longer able to form a cohesive shape.
I found that I was crying and didn't even know when that had started.
I walked to my car and sat down in the driver's seat and just sobbed.
After some passage of time, I decided I needed to be near the water, so I drove over to the little dock and parked. I sat on the wooden bench, in the sun, listening to the river and the wind in the oaks and the muted sound of traffic across the marsh... regaining my place in this world.
My errand to place a pinwheel had taken an hour.

I miss my mother.
Still.
Always.

Sunday, January 6, 2013

sick, sick, sick?

Yesterday, i slept in. Ever since Thursday evening, I haven't felt my usual self.
I didn't even bother going out to the school on Friday, preferring to stay in at my place. In fact, on Friday, I stayed in the house all day and all afternoon and would have all evening as well. But my solitude was broken when the peace guy came around suggesting Mexican fare. So we went for chips and salsa and spicy food, his treat! Then I went home and stayed in the rest of the evening.
I was in bed shortly after midnight that night. I woke twice, to go pee, returning to my warm bed each time and promptly passing back out, regardless of the daylight filtering into my private undersea haunt. I finally forced myself to get out of bed! But, truly, it was only because it was one in the afternoon and I thought I should. I had a 4 PM gathering of friends to see "Parental Guidance" and thought it might be nice to rouse myself a bit before then, maybe have a little food. And so I made some chicken and pasta soup, and that helped.
And I went out to the cinema with four of my g*friends, and that was good.
And I enjoyed the movie much more than I had expected I would.
But after it was done, I wanted only to return home.
No games night? No social downtown? No karaoke?
All of those, and more, were going on that evening, and I had been invited for some time and had marked "maybe" on the rsvp ... but I preferred to go home.
I simply was not up to socializing.
Sure, I could blame it on whatever sinus thing I had.
But I knew better.
I just didn't feel like partaking.
Today, I have an art exhibit with the bfe.
Then, at the coffee house cinema, I have a Korean film about art thieves.
We'll see how all of that goes.


Friday, January 4, 2013

almost time!

School is about to get up and rolling again, starting Monday.
Yes, already.
And I'm ready for it.
I started building my new syllabi on Wednesday, in the comfort - and warmth - of my home. I completed all save one, but that, and my office hours, were done yesterday and submitted to the department to be filed away, should a student lose their copy and need another. Or some such as that. I think it's really to make sure we're ready for prime time in a timely fashion. Though I could be mistaken.
I certainly could.
Yesterday began in my dentist's office. The temporary crown on a lower left molar was to finally be removed and I was ready to have it gone. I'd spent the holidays gingerly chewing on that side, trying to make sure the rough-sided cap wouldn't find its way loose before its time. So, after an early lunch at home, I went to the dentist, her assistant removed the temp from my tooth, and the dentist herself secured the new crown in place. Polished and smooth and shiny, it now sits. And my mouth doesn't feel *quite* right yet, but I'm hoping it soon will.
Afterward, I rushed out to a mandatory school meeting. They had some snack foods and beverages to lure us there for the ninety minutes of diem interruptus, so I prepared myself a plate for later. I briefly saw my bfe, but he sat with his clan and I did the same. And there we all were, basically being told that we were all recruiters for the university, as the overall numbers of customers - oops! I mean, students - was down and, to protect our positions, we needed to try to increase those numbers enrolling.
I prefer not to think of education as a product, but it is. Learning is definitely NOT a product, but work which a student must do with the education they buy. Perhaps that is the distinction which must be kept before me. As an instructor, I help provide a light along the path, but the path is one the student alone must tread.
But if the issue is that of retention of students, and we are to be promoters of that goal, then we must find a better way to encourage students to STAY. I suggest that those who promote gym memberships have the same problem we face. You can show potential customers the data for the ultimate goal, but, somehow, those same customers don't get the message that they must do the WORK for the goal. The trainers can give them lessons and tips all day and all night, but the trainers cannot do the endless rounds of repetitions needed to achieve the goal.
And so, after usually a brief and enthusiastic beginning, the customers realize all of the effort THEY have to put into achieving the goal. And they realize all of the time THEY have to put into achieving that goal. They believe the small gains are too outnumbered by the daily costs. And a large percentage of the customers decide not to continue, after all, or at this time, toward the goal.
The gym, having received the money in advance, survives to promote memberships and dreams of better bodies to other hopefuls.
The university, having received the money in advance, survives to promote education and dreams of better minds to other hopefuls.
The difference is this: the university doesn't seem to pay attention to the pattern. The university wants the numbers enrolled to be continually increasing.
The gym knows that new customers are not a year-round constant. For the gym, the numbers of new members greatly increases at the beginning of a calendar year, in response to new year resolutions. Another surge occurs in the spring, when swimsuits and summer dresses arrive with the first flowers. And then, in the fall, there is a renewal of interest as the summer ends and new school years begin and folks try to get into shape before the holiday treats threaten their physique.
So, the gym administrators plan for those lulls in financial activity, if they're wise. If they are not wise, then the gym may survive for a couple of years, but then they will not have the bankroll to continue.
The university knows that new customers are not a year-round constant. Mostly, this is due to the organization of the dispensing of education at the university. To accomplish the goal of achieving a better mind, a customer must adhere to a schedule of classes. To the university's credit, these classes are now offered in a variety of schedules, designed to lure in customers of all persuasions.
Unable to take classes in the day? We provide evening and weekend schedules!
Can't commit to fifteen weeks of a class? Try these five-week and seven-week variations! Even in the summer!
No time for commuting to and from school for classes? Here are online courses you can do at home!
You need a completed course of study in a short time? Have a certificate instead of a bachelor's degree!
Lots of variety for the customers.
Lots of different start times available for them, too. In fact, every eight weeks or so, a customer could begin a course of study at the university. The customer would only have to pay for the class(es) taken at that one time. No need to decide on an ultimate goal and pay upfront for all the trainers needed to accomplish that goal. No, just pay as you go, essentially.
And if it turns out that the time is not right for that project of self-enrichment, then not much has been lost, except a small expanse of time and some money. The customer can walk away with little personal cost and can, usually, return at some later time.
That presents the real problem.
The university spends much of its resources on customers who never complete the course of study to a goal. The university's resources are repeatedly used to provide education for customers who will never proceed past the first thirty weeks of training. The number of customers who require the more in-depth, specialized classes is quite small compared to the vast number needing the basic, preliminary courses.
But there is a marked difference between the gym and the university in staffing. The trainers at the gym can handle a wide variety of customers, from beginner to expert. The trainer plans a series of exercises to achieve the customers' goals, then the customer must do the work. At the university, the trainers, or educators, are not able to be used for all of the customers. Each of the educators have a different specialty for education of the mind. The university must always maintain a high number of educators with different specialties, different guides through the major courses of study to a certificate, a diploma, an official marker of completion. Those specialized educators aren't cheap and must be paid whether they are teaching first-level courses or upper-level specialized courses.
So, much of the time, the university is under-utilizing its resources.
Spinning its wheels, so to speak.
And, now, looking to those resources to fetch new customers.
Shouldn't it mean that the marketing staff needs to work more effectively at recruiting customers who are serious about being at the university?
Shouldn't we be more concerned with the qualifications of the customers using those valuable resources?
Aren't students supposed to be treated as people trying to enrich their lives, not customers trying to buy a piece of paper?





Wednesday, January 2, 2013

rainy night, with lights

It was a rainy night. The little ship had been tossed about on the rough waves for what seemed like hours. No relief was in sight, no friendly beacon to guide its way, no soft welcoming beach to cushion its landfall.
The little rednosed reindeer realized something was amiss. It could sense that lost folks were wandering in the sad downpour, in need of a warm welcome. The deer leapt on top of the roof of the stable, hoping the little red light would be bright enough to lead the weary travelers to a safe harbor.
But the dinosaurs were roaming the soggy ground that night, in search of those scurrying for shelter not yet found. The ever-hungry beasts were not concerned about the source of their snacks. By land, by sea, by air - not a care, as long as it was edible and slower than they. RAWR!
At last, the desperate captain's plea for help was heeded by those on land. Folks gathered in their vehicles, lights blazing, sound waves preceding their rush toward the towering carnivores. Taken aback, the beasts returned to the dark glens of their natural lairs, returning peace and safety to the shore.
The people sent out their lollipop vessel to help guide the lost ship to the harbor. The plethora of circular lights, mounted well above the vessel's deck, were easily seen, casting its beacons in all directions and even a path to the shore, much as the light of a full moon will lay a silver carpet on a tousled sea to guide the way to safety.
The swath of light led straight to the harbor, highlighting the buoys marking the channel. The bright lights of the pier gave the weary crew a goal to which to steer their ship, aiming for the starboard side of the channel markers. The calmer waters of the harbor gave ease to the rocking of the ship, gave ease to the tossing of the spirits of the crew, gave hope to the passengers flocking to the rails.
The open arms of those ashore gave warmth to the bodies of those who had been wandering the sea in the rain. But those loving arms also provided respite from the worries and concerns of those who had been lost in the darkness. Home!





resolution

I do hereby resolve to try at least one new restaurant a month for this year.
Seriously.
No sense in statements which are against my nature.
From now on, each new calendar year will be greeted only with fun resolutions that I have every intention of keeping.
So far, I think I'm off to a great start! Two of my friends have offered to check out new places with me and a third has asked for reviews of those places where I choose to dine. Nice!
One note, to myself and others: "new" is here taken to mean "new to me". The restaurant itself may be one which has been open for years, but if I have not yet darkened its doorway, then it's eligible. This certainly broadens the range of eateries for my dining, as I don't know that I could rely on at least one new establishment opening to the public every month of 2013. But, I must say there are plenty of places I simply have not tried, either due to habit or expense or location.
That said, new franchises of old restaurants do not qualify as "new" for purposes of this resolution. As franchises are duty-bound to adhere to the recipes of the original, then it should be reasonable to expect the same menu, regardless of the location of the diner.
So, there you have it.
And I'll keep you posted...

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

the evening of the first day


We visited the Festival of Lights this evening, the final night to do so. When I say "we", I refer to my first niece and her two little ones.
Although this was the second trip for each of us to enjoy the seasonal display, this was a much different experience. I had gone with my bfe, early in the season: December 12th, a chilly, rainy evening. She and the children had gone about a week later, on a very cold, very blustery night, with other family and friends in tow.
This first night of the new year was perfect. Slightly cool, warranting light jackets, but clear and calm. The cruise of our vehicle on the darkened racetrack allowed us ample time to "ooh" and "ahh" and snap photos to aid our memories. How nice to be able to stop along the way and roll down the window without fear of a wintery gust of freezing air or blowing rain!
The infield was best for all of us! No soggy ground, no bone-chilling wind, and the lights were on - yeah! The children could walk at their leisurely pace, drinking in the many sights, and we could as well. Oh, look! Those children are riding a camel! Over there! There's a pony pulling a carriage! And bonfires! Yeah!
First stop: the petting area, of course! No alpaca this time, but the two camels were riding herd on the menagerie of sheep, goats, and a Shetland pony. My niece and I took turns distracting the camels with food, so the children could get in close to the smaller animals for touches and feeding. Fun! I even threw handfuls of food into the enclosure, so the more timid sheep and pygmy goats would have some goodies to forage. The children enjoyed petting the pony, the braver sheep, the warm-horned yak, the many types of goats, and even the huge camels. So many different types of fur and horns!
Then we all washed our hands and made s'mores. That's right: s'mores! The concession stand not only had hot chocolate and warm cider, but the family pack of s'more fixin's. That meant 4 marshmallows and enough graham crackers and chocolate to complete the melty, crunchy goodness. Yum! Oh, and long toasting sticks, too. We taught the children to toast marshmallows, but they didn't really get the concept of s'more-making. That's okay, we all had a good time there by the fire!
Afterward, we went to the tent with the endangered animals. Lions, and tigers, and red-bottomed baboons, oh my! The big cats were sleeping, nestled around each other, but the baboon was alert and pacing, barking out orders on occasion. Fierce!
The parrots were squawking! The lemurs were luring us with their big eyes! And one of the four spider monkeys was entertaining himself, and us, but swinging back and forth on the jungle gym of bars in their cage. I even managed to snap a few photos of him in motion!
I don't know which of the four he was. Peter? Parker? Davy? Jones? Whichever, he was the only one with a waistbelt, so perhaps he is the celebrity who worked with Steve Carrell. Maybe!
We closed down the festival. We were the last to leave, and no one was even trying to hustle us out, they were allowing us to fully enjoy the experience and our company. But the lights of the displays on the racetrack had all been extinguished, save those few bidding us a "good night to all!" as we steered toward the exit... and straight on 'til morning.