Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Irony

I am annoyed when my friends do not update their blogs, and yet I rarely update my own.

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Saturday, August 30, 2008

Parsing Sarah Palin

I think Sarah Palin expects John McCain to die in office. Here's what she said when she was introduced as his running mate:
"It was rightly noted in Denver this week that Hillary left 18 million cracks in the highest, hardest glass ceiling in America. But it turns out the women of America aren't finished yet, and we can shatter that glass ceiling once and for all."
As we know, Hillary Clinton was running for the Presidential nomination, and her comment referred to the glass ceiling which has thus far prevented women from attaining the office of President. Thus, if Palin intends to shatter that glass ceiling and become President herself, when she is in fact running for the office of Vice President, it can only mean that she plans to do so over John McCain's dead body.

I also found it interesting that through her statement, Palin clearly positioned herself as far weaker than the pioneering Clinton. She seems to imply--rightly--that she herself wouldn't have the ability to break through the glass ceiling had Clinton not first rendered it structurally unstable.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

London Journal--British Library

Since the days have become so much alike, I decided to stop enumerating them. Instead, here's my typical day at the British Library.

Since I'm staying in Chelsea this time, it takes me AN HOUR to get from my place
to the BL: first walk to South Kensington tube, then take the oh-so-slow Piccadilly Line nine stops to King's Cross, then emerge onto the Euston Road just two blocks down from the library. As I enter the courtyard, I see an immense sculpture based on one of William Blake's prints. Turn right toward the front of the library, and go in the center doors and queue for the mandatory bag search.

Head downstairs to put things away in the locker room; only certain items may be brought into the reading rooms: notebooks, pencils, laptops and mobiles (with sound off--oh the scorn heaped upon those who don't know how to mute the "Windows" sound on their laptops). The locker room is the first place one notices the unspoken but strict conventions that regular readers follow. Select a locker, hope that it isn't someone else's favorite locker, and stick with it. Mine is #342. Right now, the library is full of Uni students working on final projects, so the locker room is experiencing a
bit of anarchy. However, most non-regulars go straight down the middle aisle, which is almost always full.

I always go to the Rare Books Reading Room, which is on the second floor. Sometimes I head up to Manuscripts, which is just above Rare Books. There are also two Reading Rooms for Humanities, which I dislike because they are always crowded; they are also rumored to be place to go if you wish to "meet" other scholars. There are also rooms for boring things like Science, which I have never visited.


The Rare Books Reading Room is shaped like an L. I like to sit around the corner, in the little part of the L, near the Issue Desk and the Catalogue Terminals. Again, regularity typically reigns and once a desk is chosen, one is expected to sit at it every time. Of course, a major difficulty is selecting a desk that, seemingly empty at the current moment, in fact turns out to be someone's regular seat. One day this week a woman came and set up directly next to me, even though there were many empty desks available. The normal etiquette is to leave an empty desk between you and the next reader whenever possible. This is not only to be polite, but also because working with rare books takes up quite a bit of space, with the stack of books, the book cradle, the notebooks, the laptop, the extra sweater (it does get cold in those Reading Rooms!). This trip has been so short that I haven't been able to settle at a regular desk, which I find rather disconcerting.
This is the lobby of the BL. Of course, one can't take take photos inside the Reading Rooms.

Order books, pick them up at the issue desk, get chastised for not following the rules (yes, you can ORDER ten books per day, but you can only have SIX on reserve at any one time), take notes and/or transcribe passages, head out intermittently for a coffee from the cafe, a sandwich from Pret, or a plate of cheap and delicious chips from the Restaurant, or for yet another expensive mechanical pencil from the shop, come back and work some more until closing time.

Hmm. It's really much more fun than it sounds.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

London Journal--Days 6 & 7

So I didn't really cover Day 6 in that last post. Well, Days 6 and 7 have been essentially the same: many hours of research in the British Library. Except today, when I went to (you guessed it) Pret a Manger for lunch, I also got a free latte! Laurie would be so proud.

Monday, May 12, 2008

London Journal--Days 5 & 6

Yesterday I went with Dr. S to St. Paul's for the sung Eucharist, with an all-male choir including some sweetly amusing, fidgety, easily distracted young boys. The Bishop of London gave the sermon, which is something of a Big Deal. He has the kind of voice that could make a reading of the Periodic Table enthralling. For his theme, he spoke about "peace" in the broader sense, about social justice and human beings' obligation to create a peaceful world by behaving kindly and taking care of one another. He also didn't hesitate to call out those whom he thought were not contributing to this ideal, such as the leaders of Burma, the wagers of war in the mideast or those who would call themselves Christians but ignore, undermine or deny this ideal of peace.

On the way there, and after, I thought quite a bit about the previous, and only other time I'd been to a service at St. Paul's. It was the 9-11 remembrance service. A group of study abroad students and I had arrived in London not 48 hours before the first plane crashed into the towers. I had been grocery shopping at the Oxford Street Tesco when it happened, and arrived back at the flat while BBC news was showing footage of what then was still thought to be just a bizarre and tragic accident.

We all went to St. Paul's early, as a group, and were seated inside about 2/3 of the way back. The crowd grew until the entire area outside of St. Paul's was filled with mourners. The service was sad and incredibly painful, yet comforting and somehow inspiring of hope. Over the next few months, as we continued our study abroad program we were also unavoidably but unconsciously developing a global perspective on 9-11 and on the US reaction to it. And a huge, seemingly unbreachable wall arose between ourselves and our friends and family. Most of them had turned so deeply inward that they could only perceive our objectivity, our "outsider" perspective as intentionally insulting and uncaring. It was so, so hard on the students, who struggled even to find the vocabulary to describe the alienation they were experiencing, but who at least knew they could trust one another to understand, wordlessly.

After St. Paul's yesterday, we walked in the too-hot sunshine down to Covent Garden for lunch. All of the usual tourist-attracting antics were in progress. But the Doc Marten's flagship store had disappeared. I was sad. No new shoes for me.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

London Journal--Days 3 & 4


Very nice people at the BL sorted out my registration problem. Yay. Today I started working again with one of my 1770s finds, and it felt like a long-lost, prized possession. I hope, and rather expect, that noone else has looked at it in the past six years since I checked it out last. I think I'll ask the librarians tomorrow.

On Friday night, Dr. S, the students and I saw an excellent production of Joanna Baillie's Witchcraft--apparently the first production in at least 150 years. It was performed in a tiny pub theatre near Earl's Court. The night before we attended a production of King Lear at the Globe; the photo is our group in the audience just before we were chastised for taking pictures inside the theatre.

Old favorites sampled so far: Covent Garden Carrot and Coriander Soup (1 bowl) Plain Chocolate Digestives (a few) Pret a Manger sandwiches (2) Starbars (3) Strongbow Cider (not counting)

Thursday, May 8, 2008

London Journal--Days 1 & 2

Day 1. So happy. So so happy. And tired. But happy.

Day 2. Not so happy.

My British Library Reader's Card has expired. So, I figured, no problem: renewal, another scary photo, and back with the rare books. But no. Due to increased security, I did not have enough proper identification with me. Old Reader's Card? Sorry. Passport? Not enough. Faculty ID, Business Cards, Credit Cards, Pre-printed Bank Deposit Slip (and who knows why I have one of those here)? Too bad. Tomorrow, we will see if my Voter's Registration Card (again, why do I have this? when I emptied my wallet and left my driver's license at home, apparently stupidly despite the fact that I will not be driving a car, yet did so On Purpose) will be adequate proof of my scholarly trustworthiness.

Also, no more off-shore bank account. Ha.

Monday, April 28, 2008

Absent Friends

I'm leaving soon for a two-week trip to London. It's been five years since I've been to England, and even longer since I've been to London, my favorite place in the world. I lived there for a few months in 1987, with my college pal Beth and a bunch of crazy Australians for flatmates. In 2000 and 2001 I spent two semesters there researching at the British Library, hanging out with new British and American friends, and (my actual job) supervising study abroad students.

Every time I go back to London I revisit places which remind me of the intense but often short-lived friendships I shared there. Of course I have photos but somehow being there, experiencing all the sights and sounds and smells brings back the memories in bittersweet concentration.

I've lived so many places in my life--London of course, but also New Jersey, Philadelphia, Mississippi, Atlanta, Boston, Connecticut, and now Tennessee--and everywhere I've developed friendships which were happy and fulfilling and sustaining. I started naming those important but now absent friends, but the list just grew so long, the losses too great to bear thinking of all at once.

Absent Friends, thanks for everything. Gone, perhaps, but certainly not forgotten.

Sunday, March 16, 2008

Sunday, March 9, 2008

25 Years of Cars

Car 1
Early 70s dark green wood-panelled station wagon. Driven to school and back 3 days before that fateful knock on the front door: "Excuse me, do you have a green station wagon? Well, it's on fire."

Car 2
1971 Chevy Malibu Bel-Air. Peeling vinyl roof, peeling vinyl seats, holes in the floor, hole just above the 1/4 level in the gas tank. Sacrificed a back seat belt to a treasure hunt. Driven for a joyful three years, including a number of months in which it had to be hot-wired to start, before a father yelling at his kids drove right into the shiny, chrome rear bumper.

Car 3
1979 Chevy Impala. Former construction site car, giant V-8 engine, seated 8 comfortably. Radiator hose ably repaired by Geoff in a West Virginia Dairy Queen parking lot. Driven for less than two gas-guzzling years before being stolen by joyriding West Philly hoodlums.

Car 4
1979 Plymouth Champ. Manual transmission, which I learned to drive when I picked up the car in South Philly and discovered it had a manual transmission. Said transmission later repaired (over two long, parts-strewn-all-over-the-driveway weeks) by dad, who then vowed never, ever, ever to fix another car of mine again. Taught me that regular cars actually need to have oil changed, not just regularly refilled. Forlornly hauled away by Mr. Scrapyard for $50.

Car 5
1987 Ford Escort. Stylish black paint, rear window defroster. First new car, complete with 80s style 13% car loan. Spent some years moving from New Jersey to Mississippi (no air conditioning) to Atlanta, where some crazy woman decided to drive into the driver's side door. While I was driving.

Car 6
1992 Nissan Sentra. Red, manual transmission, and air conditioning. Ahh. MUCH more reasonable 10% loan, acquired through a creative interpretation of payroll deductions and the tenacity of a finance manager lured by a lucrative long-term warranty commission. Driven for two years, when sold in preparation for move to Urban Jungle.

1994-1996. The carless years. Saddest of my life.

Car 7
1982 Toyota Corolla Hatchback. Light blue and rust holes patched with layers and layers of aluminum tape. Perforated undercarriage which allowed puddles to form on the floor whenever the weather was rainy or snowy (that is, all the time). Bought for $600 from a fellow MA student, driven for two years during which time my faithful mechanic continually implored me to "please please please buy a new car," and finally sold for $600 to a fellow PhD student.

Car 8
1998 Ford Escort. Mocha Frost, with difficult-to-find combination of manual transmission and air conditioning, manual locks and window cranks (to ease escape in case of tragic bridge plunge). 0.9% financing! Delivered with three normal tires and one defective tire, causing problems which baffled service department for one full week. 150,000 miles so far, and still on the road!

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Bands I Saw in the 80s

Adam and the Ants
The Band
The Breeders
The Cramps
Crosby, Stills and Nash
The Cure
The Dead Kennedys
Echo and the Bunnymen
Elvis Costello with Nick Lowe
Frankie Goes to Hollywood
General Public
George Thorogood and the Delaware Destroyers
The Hooters
Michelle Shocked
New Order
Poi Dog Pondering
The Police
The Psychedelic Furs
Reflex
Scandal
Simple Minds
The Stray Cats
U2

Live Aid, Philadelphia (1985)
in order of appearance
Judas Priest
The Cars
Madonna
Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young
Phil Collins
Patti LaBelle
Tom Petty
Kenny Loggins
Neil Young
The Power Station
The Thompson TwinsEric Clapton
Robert Plant /Jimmy Page / John Paul Jones
Duran Duran
Patti LaBelle
Hall & Oates / Eddie Kendricks / David Ruffin
Mick Jagger
Tina Turner
Bob Dylan / Keith Richards / Ron Wood

Tourhout Festival, Belgium (1987)
in order of appearance
Julian Cope
The Triffids
The Housemartins
Iggy Pop
Echo and the Bunnymen
The Pretenders
Eurythmics
Peter Gabriel

Saturday, January 26, 2008