26
Dec 25

A quite end to a quite week

Weather is coming in, and the whole region is in a tizzy. Snow and then ice. Or maybe it is ice and then snow. Could it be rain and then snow and then ice?

(It turned out to be sleet, and then rain. And that was about it. So it could have been worse. Indeed, in some places it was far more dramatic.)

The in-laws had come down yesterday. They celebrated a quiet Christmas with us and had planned to head back home just after lunch, but that forecast meant they were going to leave mid-morning.

So, last night, I’d set my alarm so I could be sociable for a a little while before they left. It seemed like a good idea until the alarm went off. When the alarm went off it woke me up from a dream. In the dream, I was giving — to an unseen audience — the little speech I give to students after Thanksgiving break. “I know you’ve done a lot. I know you’re tired. Rededicate yourself to this for three more weeks so you can finish strong.”

I woke up from a dream giving that speech. And I woke up exhausted.

So I decided that, instead of starting back to work tomorrow, I’ll give myself the day off.

Also, my throat is a little scratchy? And I’m sneezing some.

Anyway, my father-in-law asked me to put a little air in one of his rear tires, which I was happy to do. Plug in the travel compressor, attach it to the tire stem, top him off with about four whole pounds.

I got that travel compressor years and years ago, as a Christmas gift. It lives in the trunk of my car, just a fabulous gift. You can get a modern version similar to it for about $30 and I can tell you whatever it cost back when, it has paid for itself many times over. (If you get the sort that plugs into a cigarette lighter for power, make sure it has a very long power cable, so you can easily reach your back wheel.)

We went back inside, warmed up and sat for a bit, unsure how to talk trash about the music trivia game we’d played last night. He won the first round and I won the second. The four of us are already planning rematches. I clearly need to do some studying.

They made it home without incident, home before the weather. My lovely bride and I had a quiet afternoon and evening, at home, reading. I have to finish a few things so I can get to one of these, which I received for Christmas.

Santa brought me the first of this Rick Atkinson trilogy a few years ago. This second installment was released earlier this year, which was about two years longer than I wanted to wait. The British Are Coming was such a great read, covering a lot of ground, human and real, thoughtful and beautifully detailed. I could say that about everything of Atkinson’s work that I’ve read — the man has won the Pulitzer Prize for reporting, twice, and once for his historical works — and I’m sure The Fate of the Day will be another wonderful read.

That other book, Men at Work could be another good read. My Santa Claus book club never steers me wrong.

And that’s why I need to get some other stuff read. Guess what I’m doing this weekend?

Tonight, I turned on the light in the backyard several times, and just saw rain.

I wonder what I’ll see what I wake up tomorrow.


25
Dec 25

Merry Happy Christmas


24
Dec 25

Christmas Eve

I know two kitties who are ready for some holiday spirit.

Phoebe is wondering why she has no presents under this tree. (They went under the other tree later. We have two trees.)

Poseidon found them out straight away. This one, you see, is a pretty substantial cardboard box. Being a cat, he doesn’t care what might be inside. He just wants to know if he can get inside.

I suppose we’ll find out tomorrow, after Santa Paws arrives. He better be good until then. That’s a tall order. He’ll try. But he can’t be good for that long.

Maybe Santa Paws will make this an early stop.


23
Dec 25

No title Tuesday

When we got in last night, the first thing I did was put my things down.

No, that’s too early, let me back up.

When we got in last night, we stood on the curb at the airport for some time. The place we used as a park-and-ride had one shuttle running to the airport the week before Christmas, which seemed smart. It was cold. We waited. But it was at least night to be out of an airport, off of planes. Our trip began just before 6 p.m. and we landed just after 11 p.m. Not bad, considering we had a short layover in Detroit. It turned out that we took the same plane, so we disembarked long enough to grab a bite, and then get back on the plane. For our first leg of the flight I sat next to a retired Delta pilot. He is now flying rich people around out of Detroit. There are, he said, five wealthy families in Detroit and six jets. Then he showed me his Christmas card from Bob Seger, who is one of those families.

We covered a lot of ground as we were flying over the ground. The styles of flying, how much money people typically earn before they buy a plane of their own, some of his anecdotes, and so on. He asked me what I do for a living, and I told him, and he found this interesting, so we talked about media for a long while. One of my former students is in Detroit, and he has surely seen him on CBS. He was very curious about the nature and process of media, and the conversation gave me more grist for my “people don’t understand what we do” mill.

It goes both ways, of course. I’ve been on many planes, and I can fly one just as well as he could produce a media product. We think we know about other things because of our experience, but it’s not an expertise. He told me the progency of the plane we were on, and told me about the insulation properties of the fuselage. I know nothing about his business. Now, let me explain the basics of local media economic models.

There’s going to be a hypothesis in there, somewhere, eventually.

We left him in Detroit, it was his last work for a week. It sounds like has a pretty good gig for a retired man. On the second leg of the trip I sat with my lovely bride. She watched a documentary, I caught up on the day’s news. I also learned that one of my former students will be on national television on Christmas Eve. She’s a meteorologist, having gone from Greenville, North Carolina to Albuquerque to San Francisco, a real talent, a credible forecaster and now she’s getting turns on national TV.

I bet she could have told me whether I had on enough layers for the curbside cold. Standing there, getting on the shuttle, getting to the car and getting home, might have taken about the same amount of time as either one of our flights this evening.

And so, finally, the first thing I did was put my things down. Then I petted the cats. They were very insistent and full of attitude, as if to say “These are the hi-jinx you could have enjoyed if you’d been here the last week.”

Today, there has been a lot of desperate cuddling.

And a lot of loud complaining.

One of their friends spent the week with them. They had a good time. I saw the photos and videos. I’m not sure who they think they’re fooling with this act.

But the kitties are doing well. And all of the cuddling slowed down today’s grading. This last batch took the afternoon and the first half of the evening. Much longer than necessary, but the class was the class was the class.

I’ll submit the final grades tomorrow, marking the end of the fall term. I’ll take a few days off. And then, starting Saturday, I’ll go back to designing a new class for the spring term. This will be my third brand new class in as many terms, and my 11th new prep in six semesters.

That, if you are not in this business, is a lot.


22
Dec 25

Fam week

And we’re back! Quite literally. I am in my little chair, which I bought four years ago with birthday money. My feet are up on a stool I made in junior high. My arms resting on my desk, which I made eight years ago.

That seems impossible somehow. And explains why occasionally I wonder what a new desk, a real desk, would be like. I made this out of pallet wood and, in a go-big-or-go-home way, it was the second thing I’d made since … well, almost junior high. And, in some ways, it shows!

But it holds my things, so it is good enough for now.

Anyway, we’ve been out of town the last week. Did you miss me? Did you notice?

We flew out Monday evening to Nashville. We got a rental car from Hertz, a hybrid Kia. Would not recommend it. The car had a Florida tag, so I was Florida man for a week, and drove like it. Would not recommend either of those two things, either.

We drove down to north Alabama, where we visited with my mother for the week. Highlights include, hanging out with her and helping around the house, seeing my grandfather, and rebuilding a closet shelf for him. I also helped him clean out a closet and bureau. I ate more food than necessary — including, in one meal, more fried food than should be approved for anyone. We had Mexican twice, catfish once. We watched football. And so the week flew by.

We also saw a cousin, and his new baby. I looked this up, she is my first cousin twice removed. She’s six months old and adorable. Right after lunch they went to this place that exists just to exist, apparently. It’s there because there are parking lots, and a bunch of little stores surrounding all of this. Inside this building, though, was a little Santa display. Small little setup, great looking Santa. And so we watched the kid take her first Santa pictures, and watched her mother absolutely humiliate herself to make her baby giggle for the camera, which she did. It was beautiful. They gave us a photo.

The place we were at, of course, was a mall. Or used to be. It has some out-of-town owners, and they’ve put up a lot of local propaganda. It is obvious they are trying to learn about the place, and convince the locals that they know about the place. And, I suppose if you’re in need of a visit to Sunglass Hut, Claire’s, American Eagle, Bath & Bodyworks, or Spencer’s, you would see those messages.

This is a small town, but that was a once-proud mall. Now they’ve framed up the stores to hide the empty windows. As for all out-of-time spaces, I try to imagine what this could be. Apartments, pickleball courts, a series of specialty medical clinics, a real and vibrant community activity center. It could host a couple of amazing worker spaces, or museums, or both. Or maybe a business incubator or an adult learning facility. Or maybe it could even be a place where you can buy things. But, instead, it just, is. And stuff like this is hanging from the walls everywhere.

C.S. Lewis isn’t going to help you much with this, mall.

Anyway, the father of the new Santa’s village child model is my cousin’s son. And everyone always thinks he’s like me. Poor guy. Now he’s in his mid-20s and knows everything. Poor guy. And occasionally, I try to impart wisdom. Poor guy. We also exchange music, so I gave him two records — an Avett Brothers and a Ryan Adams record. He played it cool. He better enjoy them.

Also last week, I did a lot of grading. My last two finals came due while I was traveling, or down there. And I wrapped up the assessments for two classes, and submitted the final scores. I still must wrap up my online grading, and get those in. Guess what I’m doing tomorrow.