03
Dec 25

Flowers don’t wilt like they used to

The weekend before last we went to a year-end party for the tri club that my lovely bride is a member and captain of. It was a nice affair, private rooms at a local restaurant. Big tables. Fixed menus. Only one small speech. An entertaining slide show. Good company. I met a guy who was car shopping. Big NFL guy. There was another gentleman at our table who has worked the chain gang for local college football games for decades. He retired from the job, which he did for free all of those years, but he was so good they brought him back this year. There was a couple who had one daughter in college and another on a travel cheer team. And these are the people you just want to ask what they do for a living, because it all sounds outrageously expensive. There was another couple I’ve met before at our table too. Anyway, it was all delightful.

At the end of the night, we took home one of the small bouquets of flowers from one of the tables. It sat, for a few days, on the bookcases in the library. And then Poseidon, who is the reason we can’t have nice things, found them.

I moved them, when he wasn’t paying attention, to an even higher spot. He found them immediately.

So now we’re playing keep away from the ruiner of iron and the ruster of stone.

They’re doing amazing things with cut flowers these days. This is now, what … 11 days or so since we took them. Still in fine shape.

I’m planning on keeping them around for a while. Changing flowers fit a certain melancholy mood, but I find the way the colors change, and don’t, to be fascinating.

Now we just have to keep the cat distracted.

Anyway, back to work. I have to finish a final tonight. It’ll be available to students tomorrow. My online class is rushing in toward their final group projects, and that means a lot of back-end of the semester work is flooding in. And we’re going to wrap up some talk about scandals in org comm tomorrow. But, in criticism, we’re watching a documentary. It will center on a fair amount of scandal, too, as timing would have it. Should be a lot of fun!


02
Dec 25

New look to the front page, btw

For fun, I made some certificates for colleagues. They’re all inside jokes for conference friends. Polite, smart, funny, kind-hearted people. One of them was about one guy picking on another guy. That second guy got one for being up for anything. Another certificate for was for someone running the circus. A third was for another guy, “and he knows why.”

He does not know why. But, you know, I don’t know why either. He’s just about the sweetest, most decent guy you could meet. If he’s ever done anything out of line no one knows about it and he’s buried it deeply in his subconscious. I could go on and on, but, really, we’re just lucky he’s a good friend.

Anyway, we all attend this one conference. And we’ve all held various leadership positions there over the years. We’re trying really hard to become the cool club within the club. Or just to amuse ourselves. One year, my lovely bride won the junior scholar award and at the conference and got a nice plaque. The next year, she won a top paper award and got a plaque. The year after that, I got a top paper award there. (I got nothing.) She also has some certificates from when she ran different divisions of that conference. I’ve run the same ones. (I got nothing.) In our text chat, the rest of the group realized they have been similarly shortchanged. So I made certificates.

Her certificate recognized her many conference achievements. So meta.

And so as to inoculate myself from a return joke, I made one for me.

That’s one of the two or three semi-notorious things I’ve said at that conference over the years. We were participating on a panel on the social constructs of this or that and I held up my phone and said something like, “We are all roaming little balls of hate with hate rectangles in our hands.”

Actually, I said exactly that. The quote was immortalized by someone who got a certificate today.

I get to see them in April, and I’m excited for it.

This evening I updated the images on the front page of the site. They look similar to the most recent version, but different. They look like this.

They are photos from a particular tree-covered road that I shot in October. And here I am, finally getting around to uploading them. This being one of my core hobbies, and being about five weeks behind on getting them here says a lot about my time management lately.

Maybe I’ll get better at it later this month, when the term is over, and the grades have been submitted.

At which time I’ll take three, maybe four deep breaths, and start planning for the spring term.

The good news is I only have one new class prep in the spring! (Three this semester was … a lot.) One class I have will be unchanged. The one will be new. And I’ll make some small adjustments to the criticism class. I’ll refine the details for that in a few days.

Yes, I have carved out two 15-minutes blocks of time, Thursday and next Tuesday, to figure that all out.

In today’s installment of the criticism class, we discussed this story. I chose it because it is a different sort of piece than anything we’ve read all fall. And I wanted the class to see the mechanics of how the writer wrote about the mechanics of deaf soccer. I played when I was a kid, and when I first saw this story last summer I thought, “How do they do that?” Soccer is basically played, and communicated, from behind you. But if no one can hear …


Soccer — and life — through the eyes of the U.S. deaf women’s national team

The first thing to know about deaf soccer is that it is soccer, and a match looks the same as at any level of the sport.

Instead of a loud, profanity-laced pregame speech from the most extroverted leader on the team, players gather in a circle and execute a synchronized movement of quick fist bumps and back-of-hand slaps. During the game, the center official raises a flag in addition to blowing their whistle for fouls and stoppages of play, and games are typically quieter than the average match that features more verbal communication.

From a technical standpoint, players must have hearing loss of at least 55 decibels in their “better ear” to qualify to play deaf soccer and, crucially, hearing aids are not allowed in games, ensuring all players are on a level playing field.

On a hearing team, communication often comes from the back. The goalkeeper and defenders see everything in front of them and can direct their teammates accordingly — and verbally.

“For us, that’s not possible, that’s not realistic,” Andrews says.

The process is more about inherent understanding and movement as a team. If a forward pushes high to chase a ball, everyone behind her must follow. Halftime or injury breaks become more important, Andrews says, because they represent rare opportunities to look at each other as a group.

One guy, at the bginning of class, wondered the same question. How does that work? I said, “You should read the story. It gets explained about 20 percent the way through the story, and it’s a good one, and you’d like it if you read it.”

He just smiled an embarrassed smile and put his head down for a while. We carried on.

We also read and discussed this story, How the Texans and a spa enabled Deshaun Watson’s troubling behavior, mostly for the troubling headline, so I could make some important points about headlines. But the copy is worth reading, too, if you can stomach it.

The accusations have been frequent and startling: more than two dozen women have said the football star Deshaun Watson harassed or assaulted them during massage appointments that Watson and his lawyers insist were innocuous.

Two grand juries in Texas this year declined to charge him criminally and, while the N.F.L. considers whether to discipline him, he has gotten another job, signing a five-year, $230 million fully guaranteed contract to play quarterback for the Cleveland Browns this coming season.

It is time, Watson and his representatives say, for everyone to move on.

Yet a New York Times examination of records, including depositions and evidence for the civil lawsuits as well as interviews of some of the women, showed that Watson engaged in more questionable behavior than previously known.

The Times’s review also showed that Watson’s conduct was enabled, knowingly or not, by the team he played for at the time, the Houston Texans, which provided the venue Watson used for some of the appointments. A team representative also furnished him with a nondisclosure agreement after a woman who is now suing him threatened online to expose his behavior.

In org comm we talked about crisis and conflict. Specifically, what are the differences between crises and scandals. This is one of those classes where you get to use popular instances of players the class knows and try to understand why things transpired as they did. For us, it is all building to next week’s work. And toward the final, but they don’t know that yet.


01
Dec 25

Happy December

Here we are, at the beginning of the month that’s the end. We’re all full up on food and feeling winter. Tired and exhilarated. Probably some other contradictory things, too.

The in-laws came down for a brief visit for Thanksgiving. We had a little prime rib. They stayed the night and we had a pizza Friday before they had to head for home. We had a fine time.

This weekend I put my bike on the trainer. I’m not especially excited for that. I’d much rather be riding outside. But, ya know, December and all. So I did a few miles to get the thing warmed up.

I wonder how long it’ll be before I can do it again. We’ll be back in class tomorrow. We’ll have two weeks left in which to tie the bow on all of the classwork before finals. That’s two busy weeks. And then finals. And then the holidays.

Tired and exhilarated.


25
Nov 25

Ready for turkey?

Guess who has been giving me the business for not talking about them here. You guessed it. They get a whole month of highlights, and then I overlook their contractually obligated weekly appearances for a few weeks and the howling, yowling protests I receive … these cats should have been agents. They’d be devastating in negotiations.

Anyway, here’s Phoebe, in between lodging her protestations. She’s surveying her queendom.

On a recent cold night, Poseidon cuddled up next to me, on top of me, and under the covers.

That’s the boy that wants to go outside all of the time. Always needs to be under the covers, but wants to try on the cold of all outdoors.

Here’s Phoebe considering a bit of dust on the steps. I like how the tail curls around the paws.

And here’s Poseidon doing his best noir cat act.

He would have been great in an old noir movie. He’s got real charisma on camera. But he also has versatility. If he couldn’t get top billing, somehow, he could play a good mid-level henchman.

So the kitties are fine. They’re ready for Thanksgiving, and an extra day of cuddles.

And while Thanksgiving is Thursday we did have class today. The university is only closed Thursday and Friday. So we had class today, those of us that showed up. In my criticism class we discussed Mo’ne Davis is finally ready to play baseball again

Back in 2014, when she was on top of the planet, when she was the first girl to pitch a shutout at the Little League World Series, when she was on the cover of Sports Illustrated and getting recognized everywhere she went and fielding requests from what felt like every corner of the country, Davis heard something that she never forgot.

In the immediate aftermath of that wild run in Williamsport, Pa., her coach told her, “Mo, I don’t want this to be the greatest thing you do in your life. I don’t want you to be 35 years old stuffing yourself in your old Little League jersey and signing at a card show.” She took that message to heart.

That was not his plan when he delivered it to her. “When they’re 13, you feel like they’re not even listening to whatever you say,” Steve Bandura says now. He was stunned when Davis, now 24, recently used that quote in a newspaper interview to describe what had shaped her life after that famous shutout. You remember that? Of course she did. Bandura met Davis back when she was in elementary school and had coached her in multiple sports, and he’d always recognized how smart she was, how good a listener, how thoughtful. Of course she would hold on to something like that.

She was invited to the White House. She published a memoir. She struck out Jimmy Fallon on The Tonight Show, she was the subject of a documentary by Spike Lee, and she had not yet turned 15. She kept thinking about those words from her coach all the while.

It’s a good story, and it’s about her, but it’s also about this new baseball league, and the modern star, and the commissioner, and the draft, and Davis’ coach is our real tie to the younger star of years gone by.

The draft for this new league has since taken place. Davis was picked 10th overall. The Women’s Pro Baseball League is scheduled to begin play next May.

We also discussed Cowboys DE Marshawn Kneeland dies in apparent suicide at 24:

DPS troopers found Kneeland’s vehicle crashed on southbound Dallas Parkway near Warren Parkway. According to the report, Kneeland fled the scene on foot and officers searched the area with help from K-9 and drone units.

As authorities were looking for Kneeland, a dispatcher told officers that people who knew him had received a group text from Kneeland “saying goodbye. They’re concerned for his welfare,” according to recordings from Broadcastify, which archives public safety radio feeds.

Approximately three hours later, Kneeland was found with what appeared to be a self-inflicted gunshot wound.

Happy Thanksgiving, boys and girls.

That’s a morning-of story, and one of the few breaking news style pieces of copy we’ve looked at this semester, so there were plenty of new things to talk about. And, as a palate cleanser, I ended the day with three quick videos, each with something we could discuss in a useful kind of way.

In org comm, we talked about stereotypes, prejudice and diversity. We discussed the organizational aspects of diversity and inclusion, and we talked the substance of organizational success. You could see them staring at the screen, with my extremely exciting slide deck. You could see them dreaming of turkey.

The blog is taking a few days off. See you next week. When I make my quiet little list of things I’m thankful for, I’ll be including the readers of the site in that list. And, of course, the kitties.


24
Nov 25

A sky recap

Outside on Saturday, I tried to recall how many days it has been since I’d seen the sun. I couldn’t come up with the number, which means it has been plenty. Plenty means too many. And Saturday looked like this.

This was the least cloud cover I found on Saturday.

I’m over it. Seasonal, you may say, but I dispute that. We moved away, in no small part, to not have an endless schmear of gray days define our lives. Cloud cover has its uses, but I have no use for it.

Yesterday, though these drab and boring skies were finally burned away, and we were paid in full with a fine little sunset. First, on the way from here to there.

And then, right here in the neighborhood.

This evening’s sunset was pretty good. I stepped outside long enough to get a panorama. Click the image and the larger version will open in a new tab.

Today was a class prep day. We’re discussing stories tomorrow in one class and wrapping up several exciting days of discussion on diversity in another. In my online class, I spent some time sorting out the next two weeks. And also I spent some time wondering how many people will be in class tomorrow. The university’s Thanksgiving break doesn’t begin until Thursday. Students often don’t see it that way.

It’ll probably be a light week around here, too. Tomorrow, for sure, we’ll check in on the kitties. We’ll see if anything exciting comes up after that as we begin our slouch dive headlong into the holiday season.