b l o g o s

NYE

2009, for us, has been the Year of Change. We started off the year making use of our winter break at Illinois by readying the house for the market. In between we have a) sold a house; b) purchased a house; c) moved all of our things from point a to point b; d) gotten ourselves pregnant; e) started new jobs; f) finished our first semesters.

My first semester here at Penn State is a blur of weekends spent mostly in other cities, in my attempt to clear out all the travel for the end of (d) above. This included a few talks, a conference or two, and two dissertation defenses back in C-U. Weekdays are a blur of hard-charging spinning classes at my new gym; childbirth classes that ran way too late in the evening; graduate seminars that were simultaneously exhilerating and exhausting (this latter mostly because of the time of the seminar and my hellacious travel schedule); and appointments with doctors. 

The year is about all I can manage. To look back on the decade would mean to reflect on even more head-spinning change. Ten years ago today I was hunkering in the Poconos with a case of wine, 5 gallon-jugs of water and a small handful of grad-school friends, recovering from MLA and the plague it brought and wondering whether the compooters of the world would all stop working. 2000 was the year I got Jada and my PhD and left here to take my very first academic job; and it was the year before I ripped a giant hole in my knee mountain biking and (not entirely unrelatedly, actually) JM and I got together. We added little Tillie Fry about halfway through, in 2005, after our year in Pittsburgh.

And now we will be starting off this year, this decade, making way for a new little family member, whom I am very much looking forward to meeting. Happy new year, everybody.

now this is more like news

As opposed to that story. Here we have Mark Titus, a bench rider who walked on to a great team and made a name for himself through blogging. Of course this story charmed me. In fact, reading this story about Titus's antics--how he begged the managers for water when a time-out was called right as he was to be put into the game; how he reminded his coach before the tip-off of the 2007 championship game that he had "five fouls to give"--totally reminds me of me and my teammate/college bff RG. Like Titus, we put in lots of time on the bench (though neither of us had that many trillion-games, because we tended to go for it whenever we got put in the game, and somehow I always managed to get fouled and hit my free throws). RG and I were both on scholarship and sometimes (though rarely) started, mostly when Pat was mad at someone, whereas Titus is a walk on and doesn't seem likely to start.

But like Titus, we were very much what they call "role players," and we had very similar senses of humor--in the high-pressure situation of such a successful team, someone needs to lighten things up. Like the time we mimicked the coaches' athletic-tape labels that told them where to sit after a time-out by putting our own on our preferred bench seats. (One of the assistant coaches made us take them off before Pat saw, but she was laughing and laughing as she did.) Or like the time during a really tight game at Stanford when the ESPN camera panned the bench no doubt looking to display our somber faces and instead RG mouthed "I love you" to her fiance. We were good for a little comic relief, which OSU's coach obviously recognizes the value of (and so did ours).

And we had our fans. I think it might be a cultish thing for devoted fans to begin to root for the non-starters. RG's held up two signs, one that said "R" and one that said "G," and mine held up two as well, one that said "HAW" and one that said "HEE." (Only once did they get mine mixed up.) Then there was the developmentally disabled woman with a little sports-fan crush on me named Carol, whose season ticket was RIGHT behind our bench. She would wait until all the noise died down and yell "Hey Pat! Put Hawhee in!" Sometimes Pat thought it was funny, but sometimes, understandably, it bugged her, and I had to motion to Carol to cut it out. That often made her worse. For the most part, it was objectively funny, though I'm pretty sure Carol's persistence did nothing to help my playing time. 

Neither RG nor I was as well known as Titus to the opposing teams, though. I'm pretty sure had blogging existed when we played one of us would have wanted to have a blog. What's not clear is whether we would have been allowed. But as with Titus's blog, there would have been a whole lot to say.

happy holidays from the whippets!

scattershot 8, winter travel edition

1. We are going to a holiday party tonight, and at 1.5 miles away, normally it would be walkable, even--especially--in all this snow. But I'm so very pregnant. Pregnant enough to get kicked out of my cherished exit row seat by the flight attendant last night; pregnant enough for the woman at the security checkpoint this morning to stop me and gush about how "sooo cute" I looked while I was making my way through the metal detector; pregnant enough to not hesitate about changing into my black pajama pants before taking off from Champaign last night; and pregnant enough for it to seem a little stupid to try to schlep through the unshoveled sidewalks.

2. JM always packs an extra pair of underpants on every trip. I am so glad I picked up this habit from him.

3. To the guy at the Days Inn bar who was the beneficiary of a Sam Adams purchased with the money left from my Delta/NW-issued voucher after the cost of the mini-tacos, I am pregnant and am therefore not drinking but feel pretty strongly that the airline probably shouldn't get that money back. Hence the drink in front of you. Nothing more, I swear. Which is why I took my fried mini tacos and my cranberry juice back to my room to scarf them down at 1 am rather than sticking around to chitty chat with you and your swimming eyes.

4. To the flight attendant who did a safety brief with each individual person on the plane after it was revealed that our landing gear was defective and that we were going to return to Detroit where there were a huge number of emergency vehicles waiting in case of a crash, I know you were doing your job, but you really freaked us all out. 

5. To John and Sue, retirees who like to ride their big motorcycle all over the country, who shared the rental car from Pittsburgh with me, and who did an amazing job navigating the snowy roads, it was a real pleasure to meet you. May your suitcases find their way to you in Port Matilda someday.

6. To the guy I got reseated next to when booted out of the exit-row seat, I knew you were kind of an asshole when you looked annoyed to have to share your seat, and then proceeded to hog the armrest and lose your cool when our flight got rerouted, but all that got confirmed when you yelled at the ticketing agent about how you are a GOLD MEDALLION CUSTOMER and all you got was a night at the Days Inn in Romulus like everybody else. Also? Gold medallion, just like all these made-up honorific designations, is a very funny name. I kind of wish they made you wear a big fake gold medallion so everyone would know that you fly a lot. It could be like foil-covered chocolate that would melt a little on your polo shirt when your angry tears hit it.

7.  To the little sprog shifting and kicking around in mah (ever-expanding) belleh, thanks for keeping me company and somehow reminding me that there's really no point in getting all worked up about any of this.

8. I am so very glad to be home with JM and the whippets and not to be flying for a very long time, and definitely not in the winter.

where there's a dissertation there's a whippet

(ongoing series)

oh how i love zach galifianakis

Can't Tell Me Nothin' from Zach Galifianakis

Pat Summitt's Definite (half) Dozen, selected and redescribed for those of us in academia

One of the pleasures of being an alumna of Tennessee women's basketball is that each year I receive in the mail a copy of their media guide, a glossy, heavy-duty preview of this year's team, with a good dose of reflection about teams past. Debby Jennings and the media relations crew at UT do an amazing job on this publication, as evidenced by the many awards they have received in years past for their efforts.

This year, the page following a two-page spread chronicling Coach Summitt's road to her 1,005th win (since win number 1 in 1975), lists "Coach Summitt's Definite Dozen," a sort of twelve-commandments or set of be-attitudes for members of her team. I remember these vaguely from my years there, and I believe the pointers were evolving at that point. But as I was browsing through the list while gnoshing on my turkey salad sandwich, it occurred to me that Pat's definite dozen also includes advice that I wish were followed by more people in my current occupation. I have therefore pruned down Pat's list to a half dozen maxims that could help make English departments (and academia in general) a better, even healthier place, were more folks to abide by--or at least try to abide by--them. I am also fully aware that some of these (e.g., the first one) aren't unique to Coach Summitt and may as easily be learned in Sunday school. Even so, they're worth thinking about in terms of our jobs, our relations to our work, to ourselves, and to each other:

1. Respect yourself and others. This one makes me think particularly of all the self denigration that goes on in academia, especially--though not exclusively--among women. The other-denigration happens with even more regularity, and the two are no doubt related, though the self-denigration might well be more damaging. I have learned the lesson about respecting others from lots of people--an anonymous reader who pointed out that a footnote in an early draft was unnecessarily harsh on a particular scholar; a colleague who teaches grads to be very strategic about criticizing, and never to be seen as "going after" someone; others who model this sort of respect while also earning it themselves. I try when possible to call attention when people go the self-denigration route, or I refuse to engage it even by disputing the claims to (stupidity, incompetence, etc.) There are times and places when it's harmless, or even charming, but guess what? It can also be convincing and is best avoided or at least countered by a hefty dose of self-praise (even if that is practiced in private, for which, see number 6).

2. Take full responsibility. Oh lord, don't get me started on this one. I have precious little time for people and their excuses. Taking responsibility doesn't even have to be all that big of a deal. Pat teaches her players a short-hand code for when they screw up. We would say "rebound." Sounds gimmicky, but it was a good way to acknowledge and recover. Taking responsibility was something the seniors on the team did quite well, so I think we all developed it over time. No excuses! And also, we all screw up! Acknowledge your mistakes and get over it.

3. Discipline yourself so no one else has to. I admit that this member of the definite dozen is what prompted me to think of their broader application to work in academia. I struggle a lot with grad students who need discipline, even as I've been blessed with some of the hardest-working advisees ever. This relates a little to number 2. If work doesn't get done, it's usually no one's fault but your own. Yes, life dishes out some crazy shit, but that's why it's so important to stay on top of things, to know your limitations and work with them. I dislike nothing more than to have to be the person to try to teach someone this stuff. I'm a much better mentor when I can help someone focus on other ways to improve than simply spending more time with their work. So, to all you burgeoning scholars: spare us! DIY!

4. Develop and demonstrate loyalty. In the context of Tennessee basketball, this one obviously means loyalty to the team. But I would urge academics to think about it this way: who is your team? It could be your institution or department or immediate cohort in your field. It could be a network of people outside your institution, even a national organization. I would think it's most important to remain loyal to the people with whom you work most closely. Of course, this is more difficult when the loyalty doesn't travel the other way. Goodness knows loyalty seems low on the list of qualities to value in academe. I don't think I've ever highlighted this quality in rec letters, for instance.

5. Don't just work hard, work smart. I like this one a lot. It reminds me of teammates who would throw their bodies in all directions in order to demonstrate their willingness to do so. But sometimes that's not the smart thing to do. It can take you out of position, for one. The analogy in academia is when someone "shows their work," or describes the number of articles they have read, the number of pages of notes they have taken--evidence, no doubt, of their effort. But to work smart is to convert that effort into what is supposed to be produced. Efficiency might be a good word here, though I would clarify that I give the term an elastic meaning, not just a factory-style pump-it-out approach. Working smart may well entail taking longer with things. It all depends. (Burke is good on this concept of efficiency.) Note too that this one also assumes hard work. Well, yeah.

6. Handle success like you handle failure. This one, I think, is meant to balance number 1 and attempts to keep in check the towering egos that are the occupational hazards of sports and academe. When something good happens, be humble and reflective (though maybe keep the reflective part to yourself), and, as Pat always used to say after a loss, "learn from it." Don't take either one--success or failure--as a grand commentary on you as a person or even your future. If this advice were followed on a large scale, we would all be more sane for it.

this story really bugged me

Was anyone else bothered by this story in today's New York Times, the one that focuses on a rich white kid who is obsessed with--and pretty good at--basketball? As I was reading it, I simply couldn't figure out what the hook was: that he's rich? white? kinda short? Yes, it's impressive that he plays through pain, but so many high school athletes do this that it's not that impressive. Is it that he quit skiing in order to protect himself from injuries? Please. That his dad manages and subsidizes (heavily, it sounds like) his AAU team? Well, that's a little more of a story, but this item treats it rather nonchalantly.

It sounds to me as if the only thing that begins to distinguish this kid from all the scrappers out there is his family's relative wealth. My cynical side makes me think he has some connex to someone at the Times. Because now, the only thing that sets Len Chenfeld apart from the thousands of kids like him, kids with big (though tempered and seemingly realistic) hoops dreams, is this multi-column news spread.

techie tech

Today has been what might be called a high-tech day. It started this morning when I installed a new router. This was a much-needed change, since our five-year-old router kept my laptop spiraling in buffering hell any time I tried to watch a video of any length. Audio isn't that great either. When KM was in town for thanksgiving, she suggested that we try a new router, and boy was she right. The new router makes everything faster on the four machines we have linked in to the wireless network, including our iphone and itouch.

Then I moved on to building my professional online site using the Penn State blogs platform. The platform leaves a lot to be desired, and ought to be more user friendly for as simple as the layout looks, but it will do. Even though right now I only have a front page, I have big plans for the whole site, including adding links to my published work and (more importantly) a resource page for the course I'm directing. 

Now it's time to make pizza dough for tonight. Yes, yes, this involves technology in that we always mix and knead the dough with our kitchenaid mixer, but just moments ago I was thinking about how my cooking moments here in State College have been missing something. When I lived in Urbana, I would do any mid-day meal prep (which=prep for the evening meal) while listening to C-U's awesome public radio station (WILL), a station that is all talk, all the time. I loves me some corn and bean report, and I miss it. Here, though, the public radio station plays classical music all day until the main NPR news programming begins at 4 pm. Snore.

A few months ago I tried putting my laptop in the kitchen to stream, but the sound quality wasn't great, our wireless buffering problem was annoying, and I ended up getting flour on my keyboard. So today I did what any thinking person would these days, and what I should have done long ago: I consulted my iphone. Voila, there is a free app called "public radio" that will stream hundreds of public radio stations from across the country. In the past twenty minutes since downloading it, I have listened to public radio stations in Austin, Lexington, and Chicago. So off I go to pop my iphone into my new speaker system (which incidentally reminds me of a boombox I had in the late 80s that I decorated with a rainbow sticker that said "Debbie" on it), so that I can listen to the afternoon magazine while mixing yeast, water, flour, and salt.