Category Archives: Reading

Rip Van Winkle

Posted on 21 January 2010 | Leave a comment

Only not so absurd. Since I have become addicted to Sherlock Holmes and have to tear myself away from him in order to accomplish anything else, I decided that I would stop in the library to read one short chapter of the book. Then I would move from the library to my office to work on my dissertation, giving myself not only time delineation, but also physical space delineation. I thought the very act of stopping to have a pleasant read at the library would energize me for the long afternoon of working on my proposal and hammering away at things I didn’t necessarily want to think about on a day so absurdly disgusting as today. Surprise. I was going to read from about one o’clock until whenever I finished “The Red-Headed League.”

At 3:30, I woke up with a start and realized I had fallen asleep and essentially slept through my office hours and my dissertation proposal time. I blame this on my Wild-Fire Tomato soup that I had for lunch. I think it had chicken broth in it. Does chicken have tryptophan? Or did I just catch a major case of sleep exhaustion from the intensity of Holmes and Watson’s debacle with John Clay? On further exploration, I find that chicken does in fact contain the same amount of tryptophan as turkey. Well, f. I must admit that I had dreams of Irene Adler, which were welcome. I love somebody with a little wicked, wild side. Strange. Elementary.

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I am thankful for food labeling.

Food: banana, juice, pure bar, chocolate milk, chicken-laced tomato soup, salad, papa john’s, two chocolate covered grahams

Exercise: walked the dogs, walked from Burris to RB, swam a mile, ran for 30 minutes

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Posted in Dissertation, Food, Reading, Running, Swimming, Vegetarian or Vegan

Sherlock. Writing. Coffee Shops. Emerson.

Posted on 20 January 2010 | 6 comments

I started reading The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and so far, I am intrigued. I posted the quote, “Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts,” as my Facebook status, and I had more than one response that said it reminded them of some evangelicals. This, in turn, made me think about how I present my ideas about theological concepts, or my ideas about anything for that matter. Do I present them as if I have twisted the facts to suit my preconceived ideas, or do I try to let the facts guide me into a new and different understanding? I would hope that I practice the latter, but I am not sure that I always do. I think too many times, as humans, we do not recognize the fact that we actually twist facts and ideas to fit what we already believe. And, I think it is good to know this about ourselves, so we are better able to handle the way we process ideas and engage with other people whose ideas differ from ours.

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Yesterday when I was at the bookstore picking up my books for teaching, I saw a book called Now Write! Nonfiction, which is a collection of writing tips and exercises designed by some well known creative nonfiction writers and essayists. The first exercise is to write down moments that stop you in your tracks, then to elaborate on those ideas picking out the common threads. The idea is that you will then be able to chose one or all of those moments to elaborate and make some kind of coherent meaning. I am waiting for my first “stopped me in my tracks” moment. Then I will wait for another, then another. Then I will slowly weave them together into an essay.

Okay. One day. I will do that right after I actually finish reading through the Bible in a year, which I have been working on since my seventh grade lock-in, the first event that I attended at the Wesleyan Church. I think Susan Wolfgang challenged us to do that after one of the speakers talked about memorizing Scripture. She also challenged us to memorize a whole chapter of the Bible. I did end up doing that in seminary. Well, actually I memorized three chapters, but I don’t remember them verbatim, although I did retain their themes and subjects. The three chapters I memorized are Matthew 5,6, and 7, the Sermon on the Mount. The most Buddhist passage of Christian Scripture ever written. Or the most socialist, as a friend of mine would argue. I think it is both somehow.Can you be Buddhist and socialist? Wikipedia says yes.

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I just read an article in the Ball State Daily news about Vecino’s Coffee Shop. Guy says it a “third-wave coffee shop.” If that is anything like third-wave feminism, then I am not sure it is going to do much. In fact, I am not sure it will do anything at all.  At the very least the article was filled with Guy’s usual coffee-related pompousness. Almost straight up obnoxiousness, but with a little decorative foam in the shape of concentric and contiguous hearts. Fancy. Guy claims that he is only one of two third-wave coffee houses in Indiana. From the what he says in the article, the Blue Bottle does most of the same things: roasts their own beans, grinds their own beans, free pours lattes, and serves well-made coffee. I guess their sin is adding flavors. Shame. they should learn how to make some fig-leaves with their foam and cover their nakedness. Dirty.

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Finally, today my students read Emerson. They were supposed to read Thoreau, too, but we only got through talking about Emerson. They did a great job with both exerpts from Nature and Self-Reliance. I think I want to get part of my sleeve tattoo of this paragraph from Self-Reliance:

What I must do is all that concerns me, not what the people think. This rule, equally arduous in actual and in intellectual life, may serve for the whole distinction between greatness and meanness. It is the harder because you will always find those who think they know what is your duty better than you know it. It is easy in the world to live after the world’s opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude.

Or at least this part of it: “It is easy in the world to live after the world’s opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude.” But, I want it around the outside or underneath this labyrinth:Or maybe this one because Jane and I walked it together in San Francisco:I think that would be a sweet tattoo. Maybe get it done in bright greens and purples. We’ll see. The first one I am doing, provided I have the money, is my new one on my foot. I plan to do it right after we run the Indy-Mini. I figure I can take a week off after the race. I may do it right before I go to Merideth’s wedding. I may wait. Who knows.

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I am thankful for new experiences and learning to love things I previously didn’t (Emerson).

Food: banana, juice, pure bar, chocolate milk, Tootsie rolls, almonds, cheese, apple, two tangerines, vegan lasagna, grapefruit, tea

Exercise: dog walking, ran 30 minutes, swam a mile, walked from Burris to RB

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Posted in Coffee, Food, Reading, Religion, Running, School, Swimming, Teaching, Writing

Old Friends and Relaxation

Posted on 30 December 2009 | Leave a comment

I had the distinct privilege of having lunch today with two of my oldest friends, Tisha and Lyn. I haven’t laughed so hard in a long time! Right now, I am picturing Tisha twirling the ends of her imaginary mustache as she talks about how crazy someone is, and I am picturing Lyn’s very serious look she gets when she is trying not to laugh, which has always cracked me up.

We spent the majority of our time together talking about crazy people we know, and listening to Tish discuss her most recent surgery. The highlight of the day would be when Tish described her new “poop-bag,” installed because of the removal of her colon, as a play-dough factory for poo.  Her pronouncement of the play-dough factory for poo came complete with Lyn’s hand motion of pushing down the lever on a real play-dough fun factory while her other hand forms the play-dough squirting out. Tish then said, “Yeah, just like that, only the consistency of baby poo.” How much more amazing can you get? I would argue not much.

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I spent the afternoon at Starbucks working on my dissertation proposal and reading. While I was there, three older people came in and sat down in the chairs just opposite me. I want to write a creative nonfiction piece from the experience because it was so endearing and unsettlingly common. This is what I have so far:

Circled Around an Apple Fritter in the Tillotson Starbucks

He pats her three or seven times, never more or less, always three or seven times. She whispers to him, “I love you.” Occasionally, she follows that proclamation with, “Thanks for all you do for me.” When she says this to him, he pats her left hand with his right, seven times. “I love you, too.”

She asks, “Are we going back to school after lunch?”

He pats three times and says, “No, I am going home with you to keep you safe, so you won’t have to worry.”

“I don’t want to go to Greensburg.”

“We aren’t going to Greensburg. We are going home. Here in Muncie. Patty is going to Greensburg.” He gestures toward the other woman who sits on his left. The three are sharing an apple fritter and two cups of coffee. He has poured a toddler’s portion of his coffee into a short cup and swirls it to cool it for her. He forks a too-big bite of fritter into her mouth. She smiles and chews, crumbs dropping onto her purple jacket. He wipes them gently onto the ground, squeezing her thick hand while her hot pink fingernails tapping the chair in time to her own music. I wonder if he paints her nails or if she gets them done at a salon.

“When are you going back to school? I want to go home.” He pats her hand three times and reminds her that they are going home after she finishes her coffee.

“It’s hot, but it’s good for you. Be careful. It’s still too hot,” he speaks gently to her like a kindergarten teacher talks to her students. He pats her leg seven times and caresses her cheek. As she lifts the cup, he reminds, “Hot. Hot. Hot. Careful.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, Dear.”

She looks across the table toward Patty and asks, “What school do you go to? Do you have to go back to school this afternoon?”

Patty’s eyes crinkle into a smile and she answers, “I quit school. I hated being a school girl.” They all laugh, but the woman seems bewildered, unsure about what is funny.

“Are we going home now? I don’t want to go to Greensburg.”

“One last swallow of coffee and we are going home.” He pats her arm three times while she swallows the last of the drink from the tiny paper cup. When he gets up to take the trash to the bin, she asks, “Are you going back to school now?”

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I am thankful for people who exhibit more patience than I could ever muster.

Food: orange juice, grilled cheese, seasoned fries, cottage cheese, Christmas goodies, two decaf Americanos, plain bagel with cream cheese, salad with strawberries, garbonzo beans, parmesan cheese, mushrooms, and honey mustard dressing

Exercise: walked the dogs a mile

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Posted in Dissertation, Food, Grace, Reading, Relationships, Writing

Reading. Grocery Shopping. Wild Rice Soup.

Posted on 5 December 2009 | 4 comments

One of the best books written, Mama Day by Gloria Naylor, was my occupation and my joy for the majority of the day today. I love the way Naylor uses the voices of her characters to tell a complex tale of spirituality and healing, the way she skilfully rends together the tale from Ophelia’s perspective and George’s perspective with the bits told by the omniscient narrator. I think if any writer writes a tale from back to front better than Toni Morrison, it is Naylor. The only way to describe this book is by talking about its beauty and elegance.

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This morning when we went grocery shopping, we had two interesting encounters with strangers. Both were grace filled moments in which we were able to stand in the store and have great conversation with people we didn’t know. It always amazes me that among the chaos of the holiday season and the ridiculous frenzy of the shopping madness that some people become completely intolerant and mean while others become so kind and gracious.

*On a side note I just saw an American Airlines commercial where the attendees of a seminar had to stand face to face because “there is no personal space here. We are all molecules of one large organism.” I don’t rightly think so. Just because I am in favor of kindness and grace, does not mean that I am in favor of being comfy-close with someone else. Ick.*

One of the sweet encounters we had was with a cashier at Meijer, who had just started her shift, but she got to go on her first fifteen minute break after she waited on us. Sometimes when people who work in service jobs find out that they get their breaks, they rush you through in order to get off their feet. I don’t blame them; I’ve worked in the service sector, too. This cashier, whose name I read over and over again so I could remember it, but I didn’t, took her time with us, made small talk, even took two other customers after us because they had been standing in her line. She was friendly, smiled, and told us to have a great day and happy holidays. I think this is going of the way to give grace and make people feel special or human. I like this touch.

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Bec made delicious wild rice soup tonight. She added fresh mushrooms to make it a little more hearty. We haven’t had it for a long time, so it was a welcome dinner. It is rich and thick and a perfect warm up before we go out to walk the dogs. I love a rich stew-like soup!

The Iron Chef secret ingredient is eggnog tonight. I think Bobby Flay got his chef’s hat handed to him by Morimoto. I love it when that happens.

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I am thankful for small but meaningful interactions with people we didn’t previously know.

Exercise: walked dogs 2 miles

Food: banana, hot chocolate, cheese ball, pretzels, celery, swiss cheese, rice soup, almonds, two clementines, Klondike bar

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Posted in Dissertation, Food, Grace, Literature, Reading, Relationships, Winter Weather

Wow. Strange Days.

Posted on 29 November 2009 | 3 comments

I love The Doors’ song “Strange Days,” and I think applies to this weeks reflections from my Burris students: “Strange days have found us. Strange days have tracked us down. They’re going to destroy us, our casual joys. We shall go on playing or find a new town.” I don’t expect my students to love everything I love, but I find it hard to believe the fact that the Beat poets aren’t at least liked by some of them. Maybe it is because I wanted to spend an entire week on them, but since we missed two days, which we still have to make up, for the swine flu, we only got to talk about them for two days. I despise teaching all of American Literature in one semester. I think it short changes the students. However, I am still amazed that the Beat poets aren’t some of their favorites. To each his or her own, though. I still love my Burris kids. They rock.

When I was in high school, I absolutely loved the Beat poets. I remember thinking they were my saving grace because they talked so much about how corrupt our culture was/is and how we needed to majorly overhaul it if we were going to survive. I loved the apocalyptic nature of their writings and how they sought to confuse the boundaries between the sacred and the secular. I mean, how genius is it to resurrect a dead poet, Walt Whitman, and then talk about how the speaker follows him through grocery store while he is eying the grocery boys, stealing food, and avoiding the store security? It’s fucking brilliant.

Maybe this is a sign of a generational shift. Or maybe I am simply abnormal, which is probably more likely. I can remember Jaymes and I being (or fantasizing about being) so counter-cultural. We read Kerouac and ate him up with a spoon. We started an underground newspaper to rage against the machine before the band was even popular. I just think I should have been born in the late 40s so I could be a hippie. My blood runs pinko and sentiments do too. Either way, at least my students have been exposed to a group of writers whose influence is still felt in many ways.

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I am thankful for the ability to agree to disagree with people. And, I am thankful there are multiple churches that reach multiple audiences.

Exercise: none, absolutely none, I read all day

Food: banana, juice, strawberry Belgian waffle, nachos at La Palma, black bean burger and veggies at Chili’s, chips and salsa

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Posted in Food, Literature, Politics, Queer, Reading, Religion, School, Teaching