Tuesday is my late start day. The Samford student-journalists work late into the night putting their paper to bed and I stay around with them until an entirely unrespectable hour. So I go in a bit later, which means I had an indulgently early lunch at home.
I'd purchased a few tomatoes at the grocery store recently, where they've gotten smart enough to carry a few UglyRipes. They are, the slogan says "the tomato that tastes like a tomato." The many different tastes that can be bred through the vine are perfectly acceptable, but sometimes you just need a tomato-flavored tomato, and I found them the other day. Of course we were shopping on an afternoon when I hadn't eaten in about 15 hours and so everything looked delicious, and the idea of a tomato sandwich was too strong to ignore, even if it is traditional summer fare.
We are far from summer just now. In the 40s today and that might seem about right for the region, and even delightful to our friends to the north, but I'm looking with fondness at the records; on this day in 1989 it was 77 degrees. I was in the seventh grade, a year wholly remarkable by the appendectomy I'd get that spring but, otherwise, perfectly forgettable as the seventh grade should be.
(In 1951 we had the day's record low: seven degrees.)
There were shadows today, which would mean six more weeks of winter if anyone subscribed to the groundhog propaganda anymore. Fortunately we've been disabused of the notion. The movie that was to bring the world to Punxsutawney has only pulled us away:
Of course Punxsutawney Phil's original purpose was to prop up the local haberdashery.
I'm not sure why they urge the crowd to wake up the rat and then shush the crowd as they fetch him from his comfortable tree stump home.
We have a local version, Smith Lake Jake, he's an even less charismatic blob of fur, panic and caginess. Once, on the air with local weatherman Mickey Ferguson, he found an opportunity to bolt down the side of the mountain to freedom. One of the producers ran on camera and quickly back out of the shot, catching the thing just before it made the woods. And then Smith Lake Jake's "owner," we always thought she'd just found him on the side of a road and had been holding him hostage and pleading for airtime and notoriety, gave the meteorologist a chocolate fish and kissed him. It was as if all of this time, all of the waiting and painstaking costume creation -- for Smith Lake Jake had fine threads -- had crystallized itself in this moment. And the meteorologist was mortified.
It was one of the great moments in live television. Mickey, who is a sweet guy absolutely willing to make a fool of himself for a laugh when it comes to weather, could only think to do was toss it back to the live desk. And the moment sat there, burned into our hearts and beamed into space. If only it was online. This will do:
In the mass media practices class that I'm teaching I lectured on social media today. I gave this little presentation to the Monday class and, as in all things, learned what needed to be changed, moved and amplified.
The first slide in today's multimedia extravaganza was a picture.
Who knows this guy?
Crickets.
Anyone?
Long awkward pause.
Anyone?
The crickets begin to take guesses.
No one knew. Not even when I pointed out the hint, the CBS News logo in the corner.
And then, after they asked for the first letter in his name, someone said "Dan Rather?"
You've been off the network for less than five years and you're a forgotten man, Dan. Sorry that had to happen.
So I hit the high points of social media: Memogate, China's Twitter earthquake, the plane in the Hudson and a few others. We talked about how they might use these things, all of them are on Facebook of course and all now on Twitter, too, as budding journalists. Every one of them, in both classes, has a camera phone. Three-quarters can shoot video from their cell. We're all journalists now, I beamed.
I'd share the slides, but Slideshare dropped a few pictures. There's no text to read in that presentation anyway. Each slide is an image; I don't read from them.
Dinner at Milo's, where I finished Joseph Ellis' Founding Brothers. I grow weary of the treatment Thomas Jefferson receives -- interpreting someone as having the capability to lie to oneself so thoroughly as to almost be a multiple personality from 200 years on is a bit of a stretch -- but this could also just be that Jefferson, the man, is getting old.
The final essay in the book was of the reconciliation, by mail, of Jefferson and his old friend/political nemesis John Adams. Adams, who can easily come off as a bit neurotic himself, but is wholly redeemable, is a crusty old man and Jefferson seems immortal, the mind's eye doesn't accept his aging, for some reason. Theirs is a terrific story. They are wonderful letters and Jefferson should have written more. Both were amazed that correspondence between them, in the early 19th Century, could now make the trip in 10 days. That was technology! Advances of science and transportation previously undreamed!
You can drive from Quincy, Mass. to Monticello, Va. in 10 hours today.
Anyway, the paper will be out tomorrow. They were wrapping it up as I left. There were clothes to be washed and things to do at home, even late into the night. There are also a few new entries to the sadly dormant B&W. The new fresh ones are here. It took one or two pictures worth to get back into the right mode, but they are as fun for me as always. I hope you enjoy them too.
That's it for now. More classes tomorrow. And a long day of it, too. Do come back and visit.
This is winter to me. Sunny for the most part with highs in the low 50s and the ability to hold it over the heads of others that there isn't an icicle in sight. Another 10 degrees and I'll be ready to watch the Masters.
What's that? Two months until the Masters? Better call it 15 degrees then.
I didn't mean to leave you with the impression that I dislike Mondays. I don't have a pressing need to discourage any day of the week -- they all have their own insecurities and need our enthusiasm from time to time -- and on this particular schedule Monday isn't a horrible day. Saying, yesterday, that I hoped for an easy Monday was merely a nod to the notion of The Mondays, which I seldom have, and almost always on a Tuesday or Thursday.
I am teaching one class on Mondays this semester and working on other projects the rest of the day, so the time is occupied nicely, but it isn't a chore. No day really is, they're all just a frappe of delightfully sunny experiences that run together until you find yourself saying things like "May? Already? How -- ?" This is never a problem until December comes along with the inevitable "I could have sworn I just bought him a Christmas present."
Time flies, it seems, when you funnel enough Red Bull down its gullet.
Had a nice visit with the dean today to catch up on various projects. Before he ascended to deanhood he was an English professor and he carries a very thoughtful, soothing tone to his conversation. He's a likable man to talk with, with informed ideas about just about any topic that could come into play. And that's why he's the dean.
So we sit in his office, the dean and the department chair and I, discussing the future of this and that trying, like so many others to figure out the future of the news business and pondering the meaning of it all.
It would not surprise me if that book was somewhere on one of his impressive shelves. They line two walls of his oversized office. No, they are two walls of his oversized office. There's the big Desk of Authority, a sofa, a round table for conversations and the man could still pace on the phone if he wished.
A third wall is mostly windows and something about the room feels like it soars 25 feet into the sky. The book shelves go all the way up. There is no ladder, so the dean must have incredible leaping abilities to reach some of his materials. I'll have to ask him sometime about the ceiling's height. Then I'll try to figure out his wingspan.
It was a nice meeting, we stand to make a lot of neat things happen in our department as the news industry continues to evolve. What could be on the horizon looks very promising for our current and future students.
I rushed from meeting to class, where I talked for about 90 minutes on social media. Thirty-three slides, all uploaded to the cloud and no internet connection. So I had to run to the office, put the PowerPoint on a borrowed thumb drive, bring it back, struggle with the television, re-establish my credibility for working with technology (have you been reading this paragraph?) and then talk about blogs and Dan Rather and Twitter and China and Captain Sully and Facebook and all manner of things.
I showed the class Twitterfall and could have stopped right there. That one always amazes people if you sell it properly.
The presentation was fairly well received. I must give it again to another class and now where I'll do a few small things differently. I may pass out Pixie Sticks to give the room a little more energy too. Never hurts.
Dropped off some books at the campus library. I read, well, their tables of contents, over the course of the last month. They served their somewhat limited purpose. I visited the public library thereafter, checked out the first half of the second season of Rome, Leatherheads -- which I did not get the chance to watch the last time I borrowed it -- and John Adams.
I've seen the HBO miniseries once before, but it is a really nice piece worth watching again. I started it tonight because I'm also wrapping up Joseph Ellis' Founding Brothers. Have I mentioned that here? I received it as a Christmas gift from the in-laws. Fine little book, containing five essays on central episodes of the revolutionary generation. There was an interpretation of the Hamilton-Burr duel, the rare Congressional discussion of slavery (and in this the famed leaders do not come off well in Ellis' telling), a particular meal at Thomas Jefferson's house, the Jefferson-Adams spite and their final reconciliation.
That final essay is where I am now, I'll probably finish the book tomorrow, but I thought I'd start the series again tonight. Even for its historical inaccuracies -- Maybe these aren't Dave McCullough's fault, but shouldn't biopics be realistic? -- the series can transport you to a place and time.
Later. It seems that I may end up staying up all night watching the series in one sitting. The first time I watched it over two nights. I'll skip a little bit of the family tragedy tonight, where most of the historical inaccuracies seem to be anyway, which should account for the improved time.
I could watch it a dozen times and still find new things that impress in the sequence:
There are some incredibly fiery speeches, but the sequence in London just feels pitch-perfect.
He's a terrific actor, but in the Movie Character Ascension Game Paul Giamatti might have reached his pinnacle. So I'll go watch it some more.
Tomorrow: another presentation, another newspaper, another great Tuesday!
January, be gone. We are done with you, sick of shivering. Bored with gray skies and miles of clouds. We are tired of a tiny sun and are waiting for the spring and glorious summer.
Also, it doesn't help that football is over and we're stuck with only baseball for a few long weeks before pitchers and catchers report. Even then I won't be pleased until I can see a few college baseball games.
A purist I am not, apparently, but I do like the occasional ping of ball on bat.
But on all of this, I digress. The first week of February draws close -- Meaning we've already wrung a month out of 2010, how'd that happen? -- and the temperatures will be four percent warmer on average. We will occasionally see white clouds and sunlight. And that groundhog, later this week, better find the seasonally appropriate response, no matter the union rules.
The days are getting longer, too. Oh happy, happy joy. Now bring back the crickets and the lightning bug and we'll be in business.
I finally started on the new Caprica series -- I will not ruin it for you. I have yet to watch The Plan -- please do not ruin it for me. But I worked my way through the two-hour series launch of Caprica and this past Friday's second episode.
There were not many preconceptions for me going into the series. I'd read that it was a departure, all planet-side, a bit more serial soap and telling the Cylon origin story. That's really all I knew, because I like to see the story unfold as they've crafted the thing. Surprise me and I'll call it a victory.
I had, however, a sudden qualm just as I started the pilot. Will I like this? Can I? If you wanted it to be the show you knew you might be in trouble. So I just figured I'd settle for compelling.
The one thing I read about the series, recently, during my studiously avoiding the topic, was that Caprica was intended to be a more light-hearted program. Only Ronald Moore could start with a teenage bomber blowing up a train and consider it light-hearted. But in his previous effort he destroyed 12 worlds before the first commercial break, so attitude is relative, even in a galaxy far, far away.
The show, then, is good. It makes me long for the days of fedoras. And, if they do return to fashion, the facial structure that would allow me to wear one well. Also I want a pleasant house manager/robot. We'd have conversations about all manner of inane things, not just the grocery list and who is at the door. I'd start us down a path of choosing a new thermostat design, let him pick one and then pick the opposite, just to hear his disinterested-yet-cheer agreement.
When he wasn't watching I'd sneak up behind him and make him ride me around on that monowheel. Other times I'd blindfold his optical array, just to see if he would panic.
Sometimes he would wear a sweatervest. Always he would smell of spiced pine cones.
But I digress.
We learn on Caprica that holographic distractions are a big hit. Blinking red, green and orange lights get you there. At Christmas time they get nothing done, but they are all very happy about it. Makes you appreciate of the old Dennis Miller observational humor.
Another day of trying to stay warm, trying to stay caught up with the duties of the school schedule and preparing for the week ahead. I listened to movies I've seen far too often while I read and pecked away at things. Sometimes working through it seems to take too long. I could go faster, but I'd understand it all less, I fear.
Last semester I padded out my Sundays by keeping track of all the things still remaining. Fortunately there aren't nearly as many assignments this semester as a whole. This week, though, I have two classes, one small written assignment and one interview to conduct. Nothing like the fall. (Thank God.)
I have a computer to shop for, a meeting to prepare for and two presentations to finish. There are other things to read and write and it is all very lovely, really, if you like the idea of that and enjoy what you're reading and writing.
So, yes, I'm lucky. Also, The Yankee is baking homemade cookies tonight. One can't ask for much more beyond that.
Except for a painless Monday, and sunshine, and a wonderful start to February and a million dollars.
Hey, as long as are listing things ...
Come back tomorrow for exclusive notes on social media, a great start to the week and much more!
In a last act of wintry defiance I refused to wear a jacket today. It never got above 37 with either a drizzle or dankly overcast skies all afternoon. I didn't go out much.
We did take The Yankee's car for a routine maintenance. This was a big one, there were two pages of inspections on the paperwork they gave her when she turned over the keys. She drives a Toyota, but there was no discussion of the gas pedal.
It doesn't seem to be a problem, always staying where she left it. May all of our pedals stay unsticky.
So instead of being cold outside I stayed chilly inside, pecking away at a pair of presentations I'm giving next week. Before long the car was ready -- those guys worked fast today -- and it was time to go pick up the car once again.
Late in the afternoon Wendy came over and we watched the end of the Alabama-Auburn basketball game:
Auburn won a nail-biting, consistently inconsistent struggle. That's the last time Alabama will play in Beard-Eaves-Memorial Coliseum, where Auburn has won five of the last six over the Tide. They'll beat them again next year in the new Auburn Arena.
So this particular weekend in the old building's final days has been a good one -- finally beating Georgia in gymnastics, keeping Alabama down one last time make for a great 24 hours. The old place is ready to be torn down, but it will be bittersweet. It has held sporting events and concerts and graduations and more for four decades. It was originally named in honor of Auburn's military veterans, and the honor was later extended to basketball coach Joel Eaves and athletic director Jeff Beard. (Shug Jordan is in that last picture as a bonus).
That's a half-century of local culture and influence in that one picture.
And here's to hoping the place stays with a simple name, preferably in honor of an Auburn notable, and not a sponsor.
We decided to have an impromptu Pie Day, because there's never a good time to turn down barbecue. Except maybe for this. Four pounds of sausage sounds like too much even for a big party.
At Pie Day we met one of Ward's best friends, a man who has the word Big preceding his first name. But Big undersells him. He's got to be over six-foot-six, built like a bouncer and has a handful of martial arts that he studies. He is a network administrator at Birmingham Southern College, and a nice guy. I ate way too much, and still managed to bring home leftovers.
I spent the evening working on this website, redesigning some of the subdirectories and moving a few things around. I added a few links to the front pages, rewrote the bio a bit, started building a presently very unfinished oral history section too.
I deleted -- actually removed a few old things -- to make some space. It is possible that this is the first thing I've deleted off the server in five years. Still have 30 percent of the space available, but I figured a lot of the old radio stuff could be archived off the site. I hadn't pointed anyone to it in years anyway.
And that's how it is going to be: If it hasn't been used it is getting offed. Oh it is being safely backed up in triplicate elsewhere, just in case, but as that is taking place I'm making a stern and determined face. This file knows I mean business. Now I just have to do something with the occasional 404 I find. But important things like that are second to the aesthetic for the personal site. I put in a new Twitter widget tonight at the top of the page, after all.
Tomorrow: more cold, more work, more studying. Not a bad way to spend the day, but I may wear a jacket.
Dreary and cold day. Fridays shouldn't behave like this, even in January. But this is the month's last effort, and it is not going out without a fight. Overcast and barely 41 today, dreary and dipping into the 20s tomorrow night, clear and cold Sunday.
We'll hang our hats on the clear. February begins Monday and we'll start with highs in the 50s. It is to early to call it a season, but we're slowly plodding with cold and numb extremities toward spring.
Had a meeting today with the good folks at al.com where I introduced the Crimson's web editor to the producers there. Hung out with Brian and Matt and Bob, who is the new director of content at al.com, (he is the former internet editor at The Birmingham News).
We're going to do cool things together very soon. It was great to see the enthusiasm in the conversation, particularly on the part of our ambitious web editor. More on all that in a few weeks.
After the meeting Brian and I visited Okafes, the downstairs coffee shop. (That coffee roaster on the front page is the one they have in the place, very cool.) It was being built when I left al.com in 2008 and has become a big hit for the local businesses.
We've decided to turn the place into a Friday evening meeting place. Brad joined us, as did Elizabeth and The Yankee. There were a lot of URLs represented sitting around that table. We'll be back next week.
Kirk, one of the co-owners asked us to bring all our friends. So come join us, won't you?
The Yankee and I had Brian and Elizabeth over to the house this evening. She made a delicious lasagna. They brought a delicious pie -- in keeping with the Pie Day theme -- and ice cream for the a la mode.
And just when I began washing dishes they received a phone call. A neighbor was on the other end to say their dog had broken free. It seems their golden retriever has learned how to pop the gate. Terror in the subdivision!
She's a pushover, that dog, but one that could now get free. So they left to tend the animal, The Yankee and I sat on the sofa and are reading -- and writing -- the night away. Lovely evening.
Hope yours was even better!
War Eagle: The gymnasts beat five-time defending national champion Georgia tonight. Wasn't even close.
