Blogging on the Powwow

During my first fall at Bridgewater State, an unknown person came down the hallway of our office suite pulling a rolling suitcase. He stuck his head in my office and said, “Professor – do you have any books that you want to sell?” Books that I want to sell? I thought. What does this person mean? I did have a couple of books that I wouldn’t mind passing on to someone else, but sell? So, I identified a few books and watched the process unfold. The unidentified person scanned the barcode on the back of book with a handheld device and said, “I can give you $7 for that book.” “But, I didn’t buy it. It was sent to me as a desk copy.” (A “desk” or “exam” copy is when a professor requests one copy of a book from a publisher, on the understanding that the professor might use that book in his or her own course. The copy is usually free.) “That doesn’t matter. They are sold to students as used books for a reduced rate. This second book? I can give you $10.” “But, it’s an instructo...

I once read that if you're going to be a dedicated runner and especially if you are going to do distance running, it's all a matter of time before you get injured. There is no way to avoid it. I wish it wasn't true, but it has been for me. I started running in 2004 and that spring suffered many, many running injuries. I fell in love with the sport so much that I just couldn't hold myself back. Being a novice at all things sport and exercise-related, I thought, "What's the worst that could happen?" I was really ignorant, to say the least. Me - 4 days before the Turkey Trot. Never a good sign, under any conditions. I've had at least one--if not three-- stress fractures , inflamed knees, chronic   shin splits ,  Plantar fasciitis ,   vamp's disease , and numb toes or   Morton's neuroma . The latter is what put me in my infamous surgical shoe that was the subject of many comical Facebook postings (if I do say so myself). The neuroma app...

I always said that I didn't have time to cook. Neil thinks that all things food-related are a colossal waste of time, so there were no expectations or complaints from him. When Dorothy was still at home we shared cooking duties, but we spent very little time in the kitchen. That isn't to say that we didn't eat healthy meals. We ate the kind of meals that one would prepare if one was in a hurry or didn't want to spend much time in the kitchen, such as pasta, red sauce, broccoli, and a glass of skimmed milk. (In fact, this was what I ate every night as a college student in my apartment.) Or, baked potato, melted cheese, and microwaved broccoli. Pan-fried boneless, skinless chicken breasts, carrots, peppers, and a jar of sweet and sour sauce. Grilled cheese with cut apple pieces. See? Healthy, but easy. I always maintained that I could  cook and when we had company, I usually did  cook, but it was not a priority for me or my family.  A couple of years ago, someon...

This is what I call the "dark" part of the semester. It sets in around weeks 9 and 10 (our semesters are 14 weeks long). We are heavy into the semester's work. The grading is crushing. Student concerns, having received some feedback on their work, is heightened and anxieties run high. The days are darker and day light savings means that I need to exercise Drake by 4:30pm each day. It begins to get cold. At the end of this dark period of work, we will face finals, heavy grading responsibilities, committee work that needs to be wrapped up, and holiday madness. When the holidays pass, we face the spring semester with all of the activities that we planned throughout the fall. It is a dark time. Photo credit: Pictures to Pin. The beginning of the fall semester is insanely busy, but it is warm, the sun is high, days are long, and we hold the promise of a new academic year ahead of us. Finals in December are endured because we can see light at the end of the tunnel (they...

We're getting close to the time of year when Trevor called to tell us about Mark. It was November 12, actually. I was meeting with students in my office in the evening. Neil was teaching in Gorham. I called him with the bad news. Silence. The truth is, I never knew Mark very well. I knew Mark through other people - Neil, Trevor, and Neil's colleagues. Mark visited Neil and me at our home in Saco on occasion. Between these visits and the stories I heard, Mark made a tremendous impression on me. Mark was larger than life. He was a fantastically talented oboist. Mark was driven in a way that caused most people to take pause. He was incredibly demanding of his students and even more demanding of himself. He poured himself into his work in a way that would crush most of us - solo, chamber music, teaching, administrative duties in Iowa, recordings, auditions ("just to stay fresh"), festivals, music camps, and the like. His productivity knew no limits. I'm a highly p...