Luck

My New Year's Resolution is to be a more consistent blogger, since I have so many fans who depend on me for their Monday morning amusement. Here I go.

I spend a lovely Christmas in Winnipeg (more on that soon) that was marred only by that lame-o terrorist setting his pants on fire, resulting in a cascade of crazed overreaction from the TSA. Therefore, my day of return travel started at 3:30 am, giving me plenty of time to hang around airports. In Minneapolis, I noticed this video arcade, featuring a collection of aviation-themed games.

Lucky Lindy? The image in the center, if you haven't guessed, is Charles Lindbergh. The back wall is painted with details about his historic trans-Atlantic flight. Since, as I said, I had a lot of time to sit around on my travel day, I started to contemplate the naming of this arcade. It seems to me that Lindbergh is not someone who should be considered lucky. Skilled aviator? Yes. Strategic thinker? Yep. Good writer? Totally. But anybody whose child is kidnapped and murdered as a result of his fame should be exempt from the "lucky" label. If only it had occurred to me to go and explain this to the teenagers in the arcade and thus ruin their day.

Thanksgiving Smackdown

My students' final paper was due before Thanksgiving weekend - a tactical move on my part, since I would prefer not to read papers that have been thrown together in a haze of tryptophan and football. Still, they whined that they wanted to have the weekend to work on the paper. The conversation in class went like this:

Them: If you give us the weekend, the papers will probably be better.
Me: In my professional experience, you are wrong about that. Also, do you really want to have the paper hanging over you during Thanksgiving?
Them: Do YOU really want to grade papers during your Thanksgiving?
Me: I'm Canadian. I had my Thanksgiving a month ago. Nice try.
Them: You mean you aren't going to celebrate Thanksgiving because you're Canadian?
Me: I will have a meal where I eat too much, but that won't interfere with my professional life.
Them: But don't you want to watch football?
Me: I find few things less interesting than football.
(General shock and confusion. Muffled sound of student saying "That's twisted!")

Them: But I bet you like hockey!
Me: No.
(Stunned silence)
Them: Do you like to watch any sports?
Me: I enjoy watching the stranger Olympic events, like Luge and Curling. However, the Olympics will not take place until next semester. Your paper is still due on Tuesday, y'all.

Frontier Bowling

Last Sunday I enjoyed a bowling experience with some colleagues. We discussed department politics while the local Postal Workers Tournament raged around us.

Check out my awesome "Cobra" bowling shoes.

Note that the landscape in the background is made of carpet. This has the effect of controlling the sound levels, while also contributing to the establishment's already notable kitsch value. There is an identical carpet landscape on the opposite wall, except it has an American flag in place of the Texas one. We wouldn't want to forget where we are.

Anti-Shoe

Like my new shoes? They allow one to enjoy the benefits of walking barefoot, while giving you enough protection to avoid getting tetanus. I even go running in them. I'm starting to become that weirdo who wants to tell you all about the benefits of eschewing conventional footwear. They have proved to be excellent conversation-starters, particularly with the teenagers at the grocery store who carry your packages out to your car. I think I should get kickbacks from the company that makes them.

Don't worry - I alternate them with stilettos to maintain my reputation.

Student Profiles

I have a student who missed the first week of class because he was deployed in Baghdad. I consider this a good excuse. He brought me a photocopy of his orders to show that he wasn't just playing hooky, and he also presented me with this souvenir of the Iraq of days gone by. I was shocked and awed. He pointed out that the currency is no longer legal tender "because he's dead", referring to the late Saddam. I said "Yes, yes, he sure is." I don't think his death is the technical reason it's no longer real money, but I wasn't going to get into it with a war veteran.

My students are an interesting bunch. In addition to the soldier, I also have two prison guards, two professional golfers, and a girl with a collection of pet snakes. I refer to my students by their surnames, i.e. Mr./Miss., and in one section I am blessed to have a Mr. Duck, a Mr. Fish, and a Mr. Kitten. It's like I'm teaching in an Aesop's Fable.

The Strip

Lubbock has some strange laws, like the one that says you can't buy a bottle of alcohol within the city limits. There is a local winery that seems exempt from the law, but if you want something besides the wines of West Texas (which are actually pretty good, to be fair) you have to drive out to "The Strip" - a row of warehouses covered in lurid neon, many of which offer drive-through service for the drinker on the go. My Dad came to visit on the weekend, and we decided to make an expedition to this culturally significant location. We were amused to find that hardly anything in the Canadian section was actually Canadian, except for us. I also noticed that a significant proportion of the store's wares were refrigerated, presumably so you can start mixing cocktails right there in the parking lot.

Frisky Frontier

Lubbock's Ranching Heritage Center, where the attractions include an assortment of windmills, offers a display of countless varieties of spurs. The aptly named "Gal Leg Spur" is made to resemble a lady's leg, complete with stocking and high-heeled boot. Saucy!

Entering America

A hot ticket in Lubbock is the First Fridays Art Tour, where free shuttles ferry the public between art galleries and everyone gets to drink local wine and talk about pottery. I particularly enjoyed a photography exhibit by a group who are trying to save local historic buildings. I bought this photomontage, which consists of pictures of the ceiling in one of the structures they are working on preserving. It's called "Entering America". It's in my home office.

Babel

The other night I was at the Drive-In, when a couple of kids in the snack bar line asked me what was playing on Screen 2. I told them that it was Inglourious Basterds. They asked "What's that about?" Poor things didn't know who they were talking to. I have spent quite a bit of time this summer thinking about what Inglourious Basterds is about, so the question made me pause. After several seconds it occurred to me that they weren't looking for a 90 minute lecture on postmodernism, German film history, cinephilia, historical representations of the Golem, and female subjectivity in film, so I tried to simplify:

Me: It's a Quentin Tarantino movie about Jewish American soldiers in WWII who go to Europe to kill Nazis.

Kid 1: So, it's in Spanish?

Me: .... (Silence with confused expression)

Kid 2: (To Kid 1) No, stupid, Nazis speak German!

Me: (Regaining composure) There are several languages in the film, but Spanish is not one of them.

Kid 2: So is it good?

Me: Yes...it's wonderful, but shocking.

Kid 1: Um, ok.

I know that kids these days don't know anything, but, SPANISH?

Terror of Tiny Town

A significant proportion of the Lubbock dog population consists of teeny tiny dogs. Chihuahuas dominate the teeny-tiny-dog social scene, and they rule my neighbourhood with an iron paw. My favourite is a black and white one who I call Napoleon. He patrols the block every morning, strutting down the street with a megalomaniacal confidence. Indeed, many of them roam free, and Mollie and I are frequently accosted when we run afoul of their local bylaws. Mollie's response is to look at them with a measure of disdain, as if to say "You call yourself a dog?" I try to befriend them, which is sometimes effective, sometimes not.

These tiny terrors are difficult to photograph because of their speed and lack of mass, and the one-second delay on my digital camera gives them ample opportunity for escape. I was able to capture this tough guy by peeking through his fence.

I was also amused by this found dog poster - the painted toenails in particular. Actually, this dog looks a lot like Napoleon, which may offer a clue as to her origins.

Double Entendre

Am I right that this is (unintentionally) hilarious? I wonder what kinds of calls Rodney Hardy(!) receives for his Rent A Man services. I feel like calling to ask exactly what "Etc." covers. Note the "drug free" promise over the wheel. I am intrigued by the warning "Beware...Rent A Man Country".

The Stars at Night are Big and Bright

The other night, Mollie was extremely restless. She kept pacing around the house, panting loudly, staring at me, and pawing at my leg. We had just been for a long walk, so she wasn't wanting for exercise or a constitutional, and she had eaten recently, so it wasn't starvation. I opened the back door, and she immediately hustled outside and sat in the yard, looking up toward the moon. I thought "Ok, Mollie, are you going to howl at the moon now?" I went outside to see what she was on about, and looked up to see the Perseid meteor shower. I followed her example and lay down on the grass to watch the shooting stars.

Good dog.

Tasty Treats

I've been discovering the local delicacies of West Texas. For example, when I was coming home on Sunday, my cheerful neighbour shouted across the street "Allison! I have something for you!" She scurried to her backyard and emerged with a bunch of grapes. They were tiny and delicious. She explained that next year she's going to sew mesh drawstring bags to protect the grapes from ravenous birds.

There's a decent grocery store chain in town, but living on the frontier means that some things I took for granted back East, like cheap unripe mozzarella and goat cheese, are less accessible here. You can get buffalo mozzarella, but for 10.99 for one modestly sized ball. So, I started to look around for alternatives, and discovered some swell Mexican cheeses that can do the trick. Here we have some queso fresco, posing alongside a tomato from the recently-established farmer's market:

Finally, I have the good fortune of living a short walk from a bakery that produces only cupcakes. They have a different selection every day, and the mini ones are just right if you want something sweet but deem it unwise to have a cake in the house. They have flavors including pink lemonade, red velvet, chocolate mint, chocolate with peanut butter interior, and good old vanilla. They also have a lot of strawberry cake around here - I was skeptical, because my experience with strawberry-flavoured things (as opposed to actual strawberries) has been universally negative. However, I took a risk on a strawberry cupcake, and it was darn good. Must be something in the water.

Carrot cake and strawberry, with local apple butter in the background.

Two chocolate options: on the left, with a core of peanut butter ganache, on the right, chocolate mint.

Potluck

I responded to a notice on the bulletin board at Lubbock Yoga for a vegetarian co-op. The ringleader emailed me and invited me to their potluck, which was perfect in all ways. I brought a potato-kale dish that gets rave reviews at the Green Door restaurant in Ottawa, and it was well received. The host is, naturally, getting his PhD in wind-generated power, and gave us a tour of his backyard, complete with composting system, rain collection barrels full of fish (to control the mosquitos), and an organic garden that contained, among other things, one quinoa plant. It will probably yield about 11 grains, but it's still exciting to see.

The way the co-op works is that each week a different member cooks a meal, and we all show up at their house and take away a portion. Then, once a month, we have a potluck. The rest of the membership was, not unlike the staff at Lubbock Yoga, delightfully stereotypical. There's the nutritionist from Washington state who has taken a contract with the City of Lubbock to make its residents healthier. She's the organizer for the local farmer's market, as well as initiatives to get people to bike to work, establish walking school buses, and encourage local restaurants to serve salads that don't contain beef. Several people commiserated with her about the lack of bike lanes in town. Her husband volunteers at the local hospital as a baby-cuddler for premature infants, and he spent the evening playing with another couple's baby. The baby's mother explained that he's a vegetarian too, although her six year old daughter is going through a rebellion stage and is eating chicken.

The food was terrific - mmm, walnut and soy bean loaf! One of the participants brought a load of potatoes with her - leftovers from some collective farming thing she's involved with, and we all got to take a bag home. A potluck with party favours!

Yoga Toes

When I made the decision to move to Lubbock, I started to envision my new life with a series of Google searches: “Lubbock vegetarian”, “Lubbock Episcopalian”, “Lubbock aviation”, “Lubbock cinema”, "Lubbock dog therapy" and “Lubbock yoga”.

The yoga search brought me to an institution called, of all things, Lubbock Yoga. The first thing I noticed is what a bargain it is – a flat rate for unlimited classes, and if you come three times a week and get your “frequent poser” card stamped, you get a discount. There are several teachers there, and they are all straight from central casting:

First, there’s the self-described “Yoga Nazi” who jokes (often) that “Yoga is about pleasing your teacher!” She teaches the more intense classes, with the ten-minute poses and the improbable balancing positions. I was chatting with a classmate who said “I’ve noticed you at a lot of her classes – you are brave!” She has a keen interest in the Sanskrit etymology of yoga terminology, and is happy to tell you all about it. After a month, she has started smiling at me when I come into the studio. Perhaps I am pleasing my teacher.

Second, there’s Bed Head. She’s an excellent instructor who amazes me with her knowledge of physiology, but she always looks and speaks like someone who just woke up. At first I attributed her perpetual bed head to the early morning class time, but then I discovered that she’s exactly the same at 5pm. One day she mentioned that she had just come from getting her hair cut. And yet, she still looked like she had been sleeping in a strange position all day. Come to think of it, her classes are extremely relaxing, to the point that you have to scrape yourself off the floor at the end, so maybe she’s just trying to look the part.

Then there’s the World’s Most Encouraging Person, who is an endless fount of compliments. For example, I learned from her that I have great yoga toes. My teaching schedule this summer interferes with her class, but I hope I can go back during the fall so I can hear more about how awesome I am.

Finally, there’s the professor of Environmental Toxicology who teaches the class that is heavy on breathing exercises and meditation. In lieu of a yoga mat, she uses a sheepskin. She has crocheted caps to match all her yoga outfits, and she refers to her baby daughter as her “little yogini”. I have come to realize that all the students in her class are university professors. When I combine this demographic analysis with the persona of the teacher, I conclude that this style of yoga is obviously for people who have chosen a life path that cultivates eccentricities. Works for me.

Neighbours

I have moved into my new place, and it's quite terrific. My office has great windows that look onto trees and a rosebush, and people have been kindly offering me free furniture.

My neighbours are terribly interesting. Across the street is Ginger, who is cheerful and keeps an eye on everyone. She welcomed me to the neighbourhood with this pecan pie. Pecans are big around here. I have a tree in my backyard, and I occasionally go out to collect them for a snack.

My other neighbours are four undergraduate men of the fraternity persuasion. I met them when I was out in my back yard one evening taking in my laundry. I heard a voice in the darkness: "Hey! Come party with us!" I looked around for the source of the voice, not sure if I was the one being addressed. After a few seconds they added "We have beer!" I realized the sound was coming from above. It seems they have put their intellectual and physical resources into placing some couches on the roof of the house (see photo). I declined the invitation to visit the observation deck. Instead, I wished them a nice evening and went inside, thinking to myself "I foresee a trip to the hospital."

P.S. I haven't posted much lately because I still don't have internet at home, and it's a bit of a procedure to get online. For example, I am now trying to tolerate the amateur guitarists at an outdoor cafe in order to take advantage of the wireless signal. Mollie almost had an altercation with the wandering minstrels' three-legged dog.

Heard in the Elevator

Yesterday I was in the elevator at work, and I was holding my straw hat. A older gentleman got on the elevator, gestured toward the hat, and offered some good Texas advice:

"Don't wear that around cows. They'll eat it."

I assured him that the straw hat was only for the city.

Drive-In

I've figured out where everyone is on Saturday nights in Lubbock. They are at the Stars & Stripes Drive-In. I have been thinking about creating an assignment where my students go to a movie theatre to observe audience behaviour. The students who go to the drive-in will have a lot to talk about.

First, there's the long line of cars to get in, which backs out onto the highway, making for an exciting driving experience. Once you get your ticket (an amazing bargain - $6 for a double feature), you tune your radio and listen to the announcer advising you to head to the concession stand to try the "Famous Chihuahua Sandwich" - made from Chihuahua cheese, one hopes. There are three screens at the Stars & Stripes, and there are staff in each zone to direct traffic, including armed police officers. I wanted to ask if there have ever been any shoot-outs, but I was afraid of the answer.

Transformers 2 (a film of dazzling stupidity) was well-attended to the point of gridlock. I parked near the edge, and as the movie quickly convinced me that it did not require my attention, I enjoyed walking among the cars (trucks, actually). The first thing I noticed was that all the pick-up trucks were parked backwards, so that the beds could be used as viewing platforms tricked-out with inflatable love seats, electric fans, extra speakers, and fold-out picnic tables. I was impressed at the care and attention people put into their truck-bed lounges. I need to befriend some truck owners.

Since West Texas is flat and largely treeless, one can see great distances at any given moment, and the drive-in is no exception. Viewers had the option of watching the movie, but during the course of the screening, one could also watch a thrilling lightning storm to the south, a fireworks show to the south-east, the city lights to the north-east, and a passing freight train to the north. Never a dull moment.

Confidence

In a few days I'll be moving into the house I've rented. In the interim I've been staying at the house of a colleague of mine who is out of town for the summer, and who very kindly allowed me and Mollie to use her place. I have spoken with her on the phone a few times, but we've never met in person. Still, since she is a scholar, I feel that I'm getting to know her by examining her home library. Come to think of it, this is probably an ideal way for academics to meet one another - take a few hours to scan their shelves before any of that face-to-face business, especially since academics like books, but rarely excel at interacting with other humans. Her interests are varied, as portions of the shelves deal with feminist criticism, Holocaust narratives, the history of fashion, Victorian literature, and lots and lots of Tolkien. She's also an active and adventurous type, as evinced by the books on horse riding, scuba diving and marathon-running. A few days ago I noticed an intriguing title on the shelf - Teach Yourself Welsh. Welsh is one of those wonderful languages that is naturally funny, what with its liberal use of Y and W and its place names that can't be uttered in under eight minutes. I decided to pull it off the shelf - turns out it's a book and CD combo. I wondered what her motivations might be for learning Welsh, let alone teaching it to herself, but the book was helpful in this regard - the cover reads "Goal: All-around confidence." Not just confidence in speaking and understanding, mind you, but all-around confidence. Indeed, if I managed to teach myself a language as difficult as Welsh, I'd feel pretty confident, but I still felt like they were over-selling the benefits of Welsh. However, when I opened the book at random, my eyes fell on this phrase, printed in large, bold letters:

Dw i'n teimlo bod pawb yn fy erbyn i

translation:

I feel everyone is against me

The fact that the book considers this phrase a priority in one's pursuit of Welsh fluency suggests that the goal of "all-around confidence" comes from a much darker place than I had previously thought.

Conceptual Cuisine

Texas is arguably the state with the most compelling shape. It has plenty of visual interest, with a good balance of rectangular forms and meandering river-bend/ocean coastline curves. My readers may recall that when I visited Lubbock for the first time, I was pleasantly surprised by the hotel's Texas-shaped waffle iron. In that tradition, these state-shaped grills greet visitors to Texas at the highway rest stops:

I am not a big BBQ person, but I am curious about how an experienced grill master could make use of the different parts of the state. Does the panhandle produce more heat? Is the Houston area ideal for grilling sausage? I can understand why the grill is chained down. Even the most honest among us would be tempted.

Meanwhile, there's also this:
When I stopped at this place to buy gas, I initially mis-read the sign as "Lizards". Of course, they might serve those as well.

Lone Star

Texas is the Lone Star State. Therefore, proud Texans frequently elect to put gigantic stars on the exteriors of their houses. I noticed this when I visited Lubbock for my job interview, but walking Mollie around town has helped me to appreciate the scale of the phenomenon. I present photographic evidence of a mere handful of such ornaments:

These folks also have a star on their garage, and another engraved in the glass on the front door.

This bronze star brings out the color of the stone. Nice!

A wire mesh star - surprisingly subtle.

If you zoom in you can appreciate the Texas-shaped lawn art below.

No house too small.

No star too big.

At the Gates

Texas!

I have arrived in Lubbock and all is well.  I was thrilled when I stopped at a highway rest area in Texas and was greeted with a "Watch for Snakes" sign.  Once inside, the bathrooms were labelled "Tornado Shelter", while the display case with the state highway map included a "Wildfire Warning - Severe" advisory.  Never a dull moment!

More stories once I locate the cable for transferring photos from my camera to my computer.

  

Savannah, y'all

Dad came to visit last week and we went to Savannah.  I was thrilled to visit Paula Deen's restaurant.  As you can see, Paula's cardboard cutout was equally thrilled to meet me.  For those of you not familiar with her work, she presides over a southern cooking multimedia empire.  We had dinner at her "The Lady and Sons" restaurant, and even though we only had crab cakes and salad, we were totally defeated by the quantities of food and the fat content. Our waiter was concerned, and we had to assure him that the dinner was delicious, but we were from the North.  The thing that did me in was the visit from the young lady who introduced herself as "The Bread Girl", and who encouraged you to put maple syrup on your corn bread pancakes.

We also visited the birthplace of Juliette Gordon Low, founder of the American Girl Scouts.  Our tour guide was straight from central casting, and kept referring to all of us as "babies", i.e. "The chandeliers are original to the house, babies."  I learned to my amusement that Juliette's no-good drunk of a husband died of a "social disease", and apparently, tour groups of Girl Scouts find this fascinating.  The guide said the girls always try to guess which one did Mr. Low in.   

GGG

Yesterday I held a yard sale.  It was moderately successful, considering that it was rainy and chilly all day.  Several people commented that my signage was excellent.  Indeed, I devoted a lot of thought to lines of sight and letter size when making and posting my signs, and I invested in helium balloons to mark the path to amazing deals.  

Yard sales always attract interesting characters.  A fellow, whose appearance struck me as a public service announcement about the dangers of smoking, glanced at my stuff and asked "Do you have any guitars?" (I should note that his pronunciation of guitar placed emphasis on the first syllable, "GUItar.")

I smiled and answered, "No, I'm afraid I'm not very musical."

"Are you sure?"

(Sure that I'm not musical?)

"No, sorry." 

He continued, "When I come to these sales I always ask people to dig around a bit because it might be worth it to them.  Do you have any old or broken gold?"

"No, sorry - just what you see here."

"How about guns - you got any guns?"

I tried very hard to restrain my eyebrows from shooting up to the top of my forehead. 

"No, no guns for sale here."

As he walked away, he declared loudly "Guitars, Guns and Gold - that's what I'm looking for."

And I haven't even moved to Texas yet.

Mollie on TV

A while back, Mollie and I were out for a walk when we were stopped by a tv crew doing a story on animal rights organizations.  The resulting footage of Mollie is at 0:19:

http://www.wsbtv.com/video/19453136/index.html

Water Slide

To celebrate the end of my GT teaching career, I devoted part of my afternoon to the Athletic Center's water slide.  Not surprisingly, it has a clever design, spinning the slider in a clockwise direction most of the way down, but then surprising you with a hairpin turn, making you feel like you're going to fly over the edge before spitting you into the pool.  Many endorphins were released.  I noticed that there was a lifeguard at the top of the slide, possibly to curtail horseplay.  Therefore, I had to behave myself.

Gone With the Wind

In honour of the 70th Anniversary of Gone With the Wind, there was a screening last night at Atlanta's FOX Theatre - a movie palace whose aesthetic is part Arabian Nights, part Egyptomania, and all fabulous. Movies at the Fox are introduced with a performance on the cinema organ, "The Mighty Mo", played by a man wearing an entirely white suit, and accompanied by a player piano that rose out of the orchestra pit on an elevator. I liked the fact that the player piano was equipped with a chandelier, even though nobody is actually playing it, and therefore there is no need for a light source. Show biz!

The theatre was packed, and I was treated to the odd and somewhat awkward experience of watching what is an extremely dark and troubling Ur-text of the American South with an audience of Georgians. For example, Mammy got lots of laughs - and I mean, a lot of laughs. This made me uncomfortable, as it was hard to tell if the audience reaction was saying "Wow, check out Hattie McDaniel's nuanced performance" or "Ahhh, the good old days".

Another puzzling phenomenon was the large number of audience members taking flash photographs of the screen during the movie. They weren't photographing one another, but rather, they were trying to get a shot of their favourite shots in the movie. This is weird, no? I felt like shouting "It's called a DVD! Look into it!" Of course, it added a certain drama to the screening, as "I'll never be hungry again" and "...I don't give a damn" were punctuated by a veritable lightning storm of flashes.

Look the Part

My students started presenting their final projects today.  One student, who normally attends my 12pm class, appeared just before my 9am class to ask if he was going to be asked to present that day.  I said maybe - I was going to pull names out of a hat to see who would go first, so he should come prepared.  He replied "Ok, then, if there's a chance I'm going to go, then I'll go shave."  I said, "Uh...OK... That's not really necessary, but if you think it will give you an edge..."  

He has been cultivating a fairly substantial college-student beard, but, I thought to myself, maybe he thinks it's holding him back.

When I arrived at the classroom for the 12pm class, he was all set to go.  He had shaved his head. 

Fortunately, it's a good look for him.

Counting the minutes...

For the most part, I *heart* my students.

But, sometimes they start papers with sentences like this:

"In general, I harbor a disdain for painted artwork as I find it either to be too abstract, too simplistic, or too devoid of meaning."

Sentences such as these cause me to struggle to restrain myself from the swift and repeated application of my forehead to my desk.

Eldorado

This car is for sale in Lubbock.  

It's totally impractical.

I love it.

Only 22,229 miles, and a steal at $9000. 

C'mon, how can I resist an Eldorado that is actually gold?

More Where That Came From...

More gems from student papers - these in response to prompts about gender politics:

Women cannot fully satisfy the population's desires.

There is still a double standard between the sexist.

There [h]as to be a double standard because women are a lot more f*cking sencesative than men are in general.  (Note that the original did not include a "*".) 

Most fathers expect their male children to watch porn and go have sex when they start high school.

"Pregnancy" is the word that is being highly advertised all across America.

Birth control is a heavy word to absorb with your ears.

Gettin' Paid

It's that time of year again, and I'm grading standardized test essays in order to eke out a living. Some brilliant insights from Georgia youth:

A rather infamous leader is Hitler.

Doing personal research I have found out that alcohol is not good for the brain or the body.

Turning sixteen means only one thing: it’s time to get the famous drivers lissense.

Most rap videos are filmed in jail, so they send the signal that it’s okay to go to jail.

Schools today are putting more emphasis on education more than ever.

The candidate was mere votes away from the presidency.

Women are monarchs in the great thing we call society.

From an essay on children's beauty pageants: In their youth they had vain dreams of becoming sophisticated clowns.

Lung cancer is the most popular with people who smoke.

As an American I never have time to sit down and eat.

I love spelling errors, particularly involving homonyms:

In a world full of genocide and gorilla warfare many horrible casualties occur regularly.

When starting to date someone new, it would be smart to make mental notes of the habitats that person has that could bother you in the future.

People having fun at the weeding ceremony did not limit their alcohol conception.

Peace in Our Time

One of the strange developments that has occurred while living in Atlanta is that Mollie has made friends with a number of neighbourhood cats. There are two cats in particular, Nora and Ollie, who will even accompany us on walks. I have attempted to photograph their charming interactions, but the instant I take the photo, Mollie moves out of frame. I think Mollie is somewhat embarrassed, and worries that these photos will ruin her reputation in the dog community. I was able to capture this encounter - it may look like Mollie is attacking the cat, but it actually represents a tummy-tickle.

Professorial Style

I'm thinking that in my last few weeks at Georgia Tech, I should let loose and start wearing progressively crazier outfits to work. What do you think of this look?

Make My Day

I know I can't stop talking about Lubbock, but when I'm looking for something to do on a Sunday afternoon, I can visit the "Patriot Firearms and Family Shooting Center", where the ladies enjoy a reduced range fee and free gun rental. Bang!

On the list of house rules, it states:
"Targets: you must use our targets (no alien targets)."

Alien targets? Like, from Roswell, New Mexico, which is just a three hour drive from Lubbock?

Lubbock Countdown

I am thrilled to report that Lubbock has a drive-in movie theatre, and that the concessions menu offers such delights as a giant pickle and a deep-fried Twinkie. You can also get a "Stars and Stripes Drive-In" t-shirt, and for an additional $2, you can get in in extra-extra-large. I think there may be a causal relationship between XXL and the deep-fried Twinkie. Good times ahead!

The World of Coca Cola

Dad visited last weekend, and we took in one of Atlanta's greatest tourist traps, the World of Coca Cola. It's not so much a museum as a capitalist manifesto. Of course, anything less would be disorienting.
The first chamber is full of international Coke advertisements, and is undeniably delightful.

Then, we were herded into the first of several cinemas to watch The Happiness Factory - A Documentary, where fanciful animated creatures talk about their experiences producing Happiness in the Coke Factory. I realize that I have degrees in film and psychoanalytic thought so I am predisposed to a certain type of interpretation, but this was one of the most perverse films I've ever seen. First, there's the "woman" who is essentially describes herself as the company prostitute, whose mission is to make sure everyone is happy and satisfied, and who keeps crossing her legs and commenting about how you can see up her skirt. Uh-huh. Then, there's these little disembodied mouths that jump around and ambush characters with their caresses. Right. Then there's the gay blue-alien workers with handlebar mustaches and hardhats. Ok. Don't miss the flying blimp creature with the pierced nipples. I'm not kidding. Happiness Factory indeed!

The next areas were devoted to the history of Coca Cola and its thousands of supplementary beverages. I particularly enjoyed this unofficial Coca Cola sandwich press. Yum.

There was extensive discussion of the Coke corporate philosophy, that a Coke product should always be "within arm's reach of desire." In keeping with that, here is the Coke dispenser for the Space Shuttle.

One of the attractions is a real-life Coke bottling facility, where the vat of mystery syrup is mixed with water, carbonated, and slurped into signature contour bottles. Much fun was had watching the giant yellow robot, which seems like a lot of machine to handle four bottles at a time. Not a human worker in sight. I thought about how much fun it would be to bring my friend the union organizer here, and watch his head explode.

The big event is the tasting room - a mad free-for-all where one can sample 60-something international Coke products. I am partial to kiwi-flavoured Bibo, which comes from South Africa. I was also amused by Barq's Birch Beer, which I hope they have in Lubbock.

Lubbock!

It's official - I'm taking a job at Texas Tech University. It's a swell gig, and I'll be living in the land of Tex-Mex food, cotton fields, and awesome belt buckles. A friend of mine who has lived a good part of her life in Texas noted that I will be "good for the place", as in "Get ready, Lubbock, here comes a free thinker!"

Many blogging opportunities will no doubt ensue...

Travel in Style

This illuminated billboard is in the Dallas/Forth Worth airport.  It is advertising the American Paint Horse, which is one of your transportation options in Texas.  If I end up there, maybe I can be like Chuck Yeager and ride my horse to the airfield to go flying.  Before you know it, I'll break the sound barrier.

The fine print refers to "your one-of-a-kind" Paint horse.  It seems odd to describe an animal as one-of-a-kind.  As opposed to what?  A cloned cyborg horse?  What are they not telling us?

Lubbock Landscape

I just returned from a very successful interview in Lubbock, Texas.  My tour of the city included a trip to Prairie Dog Town, where I was able to photograph a local resident.  If you squint just right, you can spot him in the middle distance.  

Texas Toast

I think it is fair to say that of all the American states, Texas is best suited to representation in waffle form.  

Sensual Delights

To keep you posted on my hotel-room observations, the hotel in Texas has a flat-screen television, complimentary popcorn and hot chocolate, and a whirlpool bath.  

Thank you, black gold!

Rejection

A while back I wrote a post about a job ad that stipulated that, as a Film Professor, you had to be able to treat other people like human beings, think rationally, occasionally use your eyes and fingers, and be capable of reading a newspaper.

I just found out that I won't be getting that job.

Should I be worried or relieved?

Culture

Since I've been staying in hotels all over the continent, I've noticed that the room amenities can tell you a lot about a given cultural milieu. 

In the bedside table in Minnesota, there was a copy of The Book of Mormon.

In the bedside table in Montreal, there were condoms.

There you go.

Propaganda Through the Ages

My students wrote an analysis of a WWII propaganda film, and one of them decided to put it in historical perspective:  "In the distant past, propaganda was spread through oration, as well as intimidation.  Rulers would put the heads of their enemies on pikes as a display of power."  

That's telling 'em!

Wide-Eyed

My students were so cute today.  They are all aerospace engineering majors, and my course is all about films/stories/art on aviation and space-travel themes.  I was showing them a series of film clips related to the idea of "the technological sublime", i.e. the feeling of exhilaration mixed with fear that one has when in the presence of powerful and mysterious machines (rockets, atom bombs, etc.) The first clip was from Apocalypse Now - the scene where the helicopters are equipped with speakers that play Wagner to terrorize the Vietnamese.  My 11am class, who are always rowdy, started singing along with Die Walkure, which, while amusing, was not the response I was looking for.  I followed that up with a scene from October Sky, which is based on a true story about American high school kids who start building rockets in the early days of the space race.  The scene occurs near the beginning of the film, when people are watching the night sky to see Sputnik flying overhead.  Most of the characters are muttering about how the Russians are watching them with spy cameras and the bombs are sure to follow, but the main character stands apart, awestruck and visibly inspired.  Watching my students watch the clip was a most endearing sight.  My usually giddy students fell silent, obviously identifying with the young would-be engineer, entranced by the sublime machine.  

The Piano Teacher

Today I had a job interview at a liberal arts college in Minnesota.  As part of the process, I taught a film studies class, where I gave a lecture on sound in science fiction movies.  Then, after meetings with various administrators, there was "meet-and-greet" where students would have a chance to chat with me and eat free cookies.  Two girls, both archetypal film students (one with the bright red lipstick/1940s hairdo look, the other sporting Buddy Holly glasses and bleach blonde pigtails beneath a pageboy cap), showed up at the reception.  They marched over, told me they really liked my lecture, and asked "Will you be in our movie?  We're filming upstairs right now."  I said "Sure!... What do you want me to do?"  They confessed that when I walked into their class to start my lecture, the first thing they said to one another was "She would be perfect to play the piano teacher."  I told them that I have a remarkable lack of musical talent, but would be happy to pass myself off as a piano teacher for the sake of cinema. We hustled upstairs, they put me on my mark and gave me my lines, and soon it was all "Quiet on set...Action!"  

Later, at dinner, one of the faculty members said the students were very impressed at my performance, and are already spreading the word that I'm a cool professor. 

Local Topiary

You might well ask, "Is that a gigantic topiary cat, full of Christmas lights, and wearing a hat?  Is it wearing a ribbon around its neck?  Is it dangling a big white rat from its mouth? Is it in front of an otherwise unremarkable house in Atlanta?"  The answer is "Yes!" on all counts.  The white spidery bit is, I believe, a set of whiskers.  

Halifax

The Atlantic Ocean was kind enough to pose for a group shot with me and some local boats.  

Mortification of the Flesh

A couple of classes ago, I was showing my students a film from 1909 of Wilbur Wright and his airplane.  They mounted the camera on the plane to get what would be the first aerial shots.  One of the students confessed that while watching, he secretly wanted to see the plane crash, explaining "I guess I'm just a Jackass fan".  I took the opportunity to share my theory that the appeal of Jackass is similar to that of the martyrdom of saints - so you can suffer agonies by proxy.  That made the whole class wake up and pay attention.  They wanted to hear more, but then the bell rang.  It's fun to be the professor who is full of surprises.

The Self-Portrait

I tried really hard to make it look like the palm tree was growing out of my head, but I don't think it was successful.  Better luck next time.

Christmas Spirit

We spotted this house while walking around San Francisco, looking for views of the Bay.  To give you a sense of scale, the ornaments on the tree are beach balls.  The portion of the house behind the tree is covered in weather-proof wrapping paper and bows, while the "presents" on the sidewalk are concealing the huge lighting rig that illuminates the whole thing.  There is also an elaborate train set around the bottom of the tree.  I wonder what it's like to be their neighbour?

Overheard in the Park

Today Mollie and I couldn't help but overhear an interesting discussion in the park.  Three people, all generally regular-looking, were engaged in what seemed like a sensible conversation about a technical problem.  I'm no engineer, but their use of terminology expressed a level of professional knowledge.  However, as we approached it became clear that they were discussing a prototype for a machine to "attract UFOs".  Mollie and I slowed down so as to more effectively eavesdrop.  Seems like they have a plan that involves magnetic fields that will appeal to extraterrestrials.  I chose not to invade their privacy with a surreptitious cell phone photograph, as this would no doubt only confirm their conspiracy theory about "the watchers", or something.  

Steal This Plant

I have many stories to share from my Christmas/New Year/Etc. adventures.  Where to begin? In San Francisco I went for a lovely walk at the Botanical Garden, where these little signs tell you not to get any funny ideas.  Plant banditry will not be tolerated.