Mockingbird and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

(with apologies to Alexander)

It doesn't happen often, thank goodness.  But Friday was one of those fortunately-rare-but-still-quite-nasty Very Bad Days.

It's hard to explain, but since we all go through these sometimes, I probably don't have to explain it much.  It was a Very Bad Day.  It's not that anything horrible actually happened - I didn't have an accident with the car, I didn't get some devastating diagnosis, and I didn't end the day with fewer fingers than I started it with - but it was a Very Bad Day nevertheless.  See, it doesn't take a tragedy to drive me off into the Forest of Crazy; in fact, I'm one of those who totally gets the Dorothy Parker quip that it's not the tragedies that kill us; it's the messes.

And what a mess.

All I wanted to do (the lament of the unsuccessful) was take this Powerpoint I'd made for my upcoming online class - and made with love and care, mind you - put some narration over the top of it and then gently drop my baby into the online platform we use for such classes so my tender birdling students could be fed from its wisdom.  Easy, right?  A couple of clicks of a mouse, right?

Ha, she said bitterly.

I couldn't figure it out.  Like, at all.  I had the same chance of coming through this experience unscathed as (to borrow from the magnificent Douglas Adams) a whelk in a supernova.  I couldn't get the microphone hooked up properly.  I couldn't figure out how to start recording.  I couldn't figure out how to save the recording.  I couldn't figure out the search terms that would help me figure out the answers.  I yelled at the computer.  I yelled at the microphone.  I yelled at Bill Gates and, just to be thorough, I roundly cursed Steve Jobs.

I am deeply ashamed to say I lost my temper and yelled at the dog.

Literally hours of that madness, and I was still not one whit closer to figuring out the answer than I am today at forming the Grand Unified Theory of Everything.

And yet.

I was reminded of how lucky I am.  I have friends who listened to my wild-eyed rantings and told me it would be okay.  Who made me feel better that I was even trying to figure out tech stuff (probably needless to say at this point, but it's NOT my strong suit.  Hell, it's barely a card in my deck).  I have friends who took one look at me and suggested that I just stop for a while.  (Great wisdom is in these words:  "When nothing you're doing works, do nothing.")  I eventually figured it out - it may not be the quickest, more elegant solution, but duct tape can hold any number of things together as well as a weld.  And tomorrow, one of my lovely and learned friends has agreed to meet with me and take a look at the patch-job I've come up with.  She probably won't even laugh - she's that good.

The lesson in here?  Sometimes the day just doesn't bend your way.  When that happens, it's okay to quit.  Walk away - the problem will still be there once you cool down (and if it isn't, so much the better) and you won't seem like such a raving crazy person.  I didn't learn that and I had some apologies to make later.  I also threw my good eating habits to the wind, because it seemed like cream sauce and cupcakes were a better choice than committing a string of Class A felonies.  (Which is true, but it's far better to not get in that place to begin with.)  Scarlett O'Hara was right - tomorrow is another day and you can always take another run at it then.  Go a little easy on yourself.

Oh, and the dog forgave me.  I swear, there are days when I don't deserve that critter.

Not All Hours Are Billable

Back when I worked as a litigation lawyer, keeping up with my "billable hours" was a big part of  my everyday life.  It's not exactly a natural part of your life, but it's hammered into you that it's going to be a very important part of your bank-wall-grey-suited life.  Think about it.  Every time you make a phone call, even if you only leave a message, you must remember to enter the client's name and code and assign a time value to the call, usually one-tenth of an hour for a phone message.  And you do that for every single task you perform that day.  Every letter, every snippet of research, every paragraph drafted, every phone call made, every e-mail read, much less returned - all of these must be assigned to a client and billed for.

Crazy making.  But that's how lawyers bill.  (By the way, flat fees are the way to go.  That way, you only pay once and you know exactly how much it is.  Just sayin'.)

The problem is that once you get that mindset in your head, it's darned hard to get it out.  And not all hours are (or should be) billable.

It's hard for me.  I have a job that I really, really enjoy, but I've learned - slowly and painfully - that I'm better at it when I build in breaks and time off from it.  I'm good with deadlines, but my brain also needs time to let ideas percolate.  The trick is building in "percolation time."  My regular course load requires me to teach five classes per semester, plus two in the summer.  That's five classes worth of papers, tests, speech presentations, journals, outlines, and various smaller assignments to collect, comment on, and grade.  That's five classes worth of student e-mails, excuses for missed classes, student appointments, and assorted student problems, on top of committee assignments, book orders, faculty and divisional meetings, reports, professional development, portfolio composition, and adjunct wrangling to handle - all without the prospect of tenure.  It's a loaded plate and, for the most part, I love it.  Seriously - I do.  Furthermore, I think I'm pretty good at it.

Education isn't widget-building, no matter what the business folks say.  You can't run a school like a business; not entirely.  This is because you're dealing with people rather than interchangeable parts.  I need to be chipper and upbeat and encouraging with everyone who crosses my threshold and that's not easy.  And that's a task that takes way more than a single approach.

That's why you'll see bottles of soap bubbles when you visit my office.  There are also cartoons on the wall and sock puppets in a basket.  There's a plastic raygun that makes a loud "whizz, whizz, whizz" noise when you pull the trigger and also a miniature Zen water fountain for quiet.  In the window are plants that need sunshine and water to remind me that we all need those things.  There's a copy of Dr. Seuss' Oh, The Places You'll Go and sometimes you'll find me reading that.  Sometimes you'll find me reading a copy of a journal that has an article describing an idea I want to try out.  And sometimes you'll see a sign that says, "On walking track" stuck on my door - generally speaking, movement clears my head better than just sitting.

Sometimes, you need to be hunched over a keyboard, researching or drafting or grading or planning.  But sometimes you need to be elsewhere, dreaming or thinking or holding an idea up to the light to look at it from a different perspective.  And all those times are important.

Even if they're not all billable.

New Year!

It's a new year, which means - well, all sorts of things.  FryDaddy has returned for his last semester of undergraduate schoolin', leaving the house a bit on the lonely side.  We took down Christmas before he left, but the bits and pieces of the holiday are strewn from one end of the guest room/study to the other.  I'll get it packed over the next few days and when FryDaddy comes home for the weekend, we'll transfer it to the attic and hunker down for the holiday-less winter.  (That's why I left the colored lights on the porch roof - maybe they're tacky, but they certainly seem cheerful on a grey January evening!)

My classes for the spring semester start Tuesday and, while I"m basically prepared, there are always things to do and tasks to complete.  My resolution for this year is to try harder to realize that we're all doing the best we can and - face it - most of us have days where we're just trying to get by on half throttle.  I'm teaching my introduction to film class in an online format this go-round and I don't want to just have blocks and blocks of text, so I'm working to master a variety of tech tools that I've used in the past, but never become especially proficient with.  I'm trying to enjoy the journey.

And what a journey this year is shaping up to be!  FryDaddy and I signed our first joint book contract right around the New Year - we're under contract with ECW Press out of Toronto, Canada to produce Wanna Cook?  The Unofficial Guide to Breaking Bad and we couldn't be more delighted!  We're working hard to both complete the draft on time - it's an episode guide, but goes WAY beyond mere recaps - and to spread the word about the project.  You'll find us blogging about the project and Breaking Bad in general on our blogs -  FryDaddy 's is here and I have a "work and publication" blog that you can access here; please follow us! - as well as on sites such as the network site and Television Without Pity.  You can also keep us with us in short bursts on Twitter - use #wannacook and you'll find us.

All this and a full course load, writing a paper for Slayage 5 in July, and the commuter marriage.  My cup truly runneth over!  If only I can steer clear of that one valley . . .

Onward into 2012!

The Christmas Letter I Meant to Send

Every year, it seems like the holidays almost sneak up on me.  That doesn't make any logical sense, since I know full well that December 25th is Christmas and it's not a moveable feast.  Still - this year, there were a few too many irons in the fire and I never got cards sent out.  That's a shame, since I like Christmas cards (or "holiday greetings," if you prefer; whatever hangs your holly) a lot.  I actually like sitting down with a stack of cards, an address book, and festive stamps.  Alas, this year, it simply was not to be.  At first, I told myself that I'd get them out as New Year's cards, or maybe Epiphany - nope, that's not going to happen either.

And since one of my pseudo-resolutions is to decreased the amount of beating myself up for not being a constantly efficient juggler of the fiery swords of home/work/writing/personal lives, I'm letting it go.  I'm sorry for that, but I'm also accepting of it.

But if I had written a Christmas letter, it might have gone something like this:

Dear Family and Friends:

It's been an eventful year here in the Nest.  FryDaddy and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary and he's now a semester away from being a bachelor - at least on paper!  (And while there may certainly be a graduation party in May, it will in no way be a "bachelor party."  I've made my voice heard on this one!)  So let's look back on 2011:

January - A freak snow and ice storms caused the semester to get off to a late start.  I resolved to ask myself often during this year, "How can I enjoy this more?"  Not bad as resolutions go, and it's one I'm going to continue to work on in the coming year.  I started teaching an introduction to film course that focused on science fiction and enjoyed it quite a bit.   FryDaddy and I celebrated our joint birthday (weird, I know) and kept slogging through the long-distance marriage trial as he continued with his studies at UNC-Greensboro.
March - FryDaddy and I spent spring break in the exotic locale of the hospital.  All is well, and he's now an improved cyborg.  No mutant powers seem to have manifested.
April - We both traveled to San Antonio, Texas to present original work at the national Popular Culture/American Culture Association conference.  We always enjoy the PCA conferences and this one involved Tex-Mex food and the Alamo.  A beautiful, hospitable city that we hope to visit again.
May - For our first anniversary, we took a sightseeing trip up to Washington, DC.  While we certainly didn't see everything, we had a blast and it was fun to get reacquainted after a semester of (mostly) being separated.  We continued the separation with summer school sessions, though.  Eyes on the prize, people!
June - I hosted what I hope becomes an annual event - a "girls only" party involving big hats and the Belmont horse race.  We also added a small grey kitten to our household in June.  We were a little concerned about what Spooky (60 plus pound shepherd mix) would think, but no worries.  The two are best friends and often curl up together to sleep.  That's cute - seeing Spooky attempting to groom a kitten, though - that's priceless!
July - With FryDaddy home for the last part of the summer, we spent a few days finally re-arranging the kitchen to suit a 6'4" cook.  It's amazing how much room a pot rack can buy you!
August - It was my turn to be in the hospital bed as I had sinus and throat surgery.  Minor in the big scheme of things, but uncomfortable and I'm glad it's in the rear view mirror of the year.  Much improvement, though, so yes, it was worth it!
October - With the fall semester in full swing, we took off to spend fall break (where else?) at a conference.  The regional PCA was held in New Orleans and we had  bon temps galore, mon amis!  I'd go back again in a heartbeat!  Fantastic people, warm reception for the work we'd been doing and did I mention the food?  In October, Dad was also inducted into the Davidson County Sports Hall of Fame - his college baseball team [he played catcher] won the college World Series in 1955.

Throughout the year, we were involved in the Great Buffy Rewatch of 2011, which was run by a Canadian we met through (where else?) conferences.  Both of us had individual work published as part of this, as well as working together on a few pieces.

In no way does this cover everything that happened this year, but it's a good sampling.  2011 was actually pretty good to us and we're hoping the Mayans were wrong about 2012!

Love to all in the coming year!

Mockingbird and FryDaddy

Holly-Trimmed Musings

Let the holidays commence!  The final papers are commented upon and graded.  Final projects have been graded and returned.  The last communication journals have been (you guessed it) graded and all numbers have been crunched.  For good or ill, the semester is done.

The Christmas holiday, however, is not.

Here at the Nest, holiday preparations are somewhat incomplete.  We have a tree, which has been strung with lights.  We held off on ornaments to give the kitten (it's her first Christmas, you see) a chance to get used to the outside being inside.  It seems that she's not much of a climber (quite interested in the wrapping paper under the tree, though), so we hope to hang at least some ornaments.

Other decorations - well, I hope to at least get the mantel decked.  The halls very well may be on their own this year.  There are a few lights strung around the porch roof, a Christmas flag flutters in the yard, and most windows are adorned with an electric candle, thanks to an elaborate system of drop cords.  It's not Martha Stewart, but it surely is not John Prine, either.

I was getting in quite a snit about this - I felt like a slacker.  I mean, it's the evening of the 20th and my house is decorated in a style which can kindly be called "Early Box."  I have family who begins baking for Christmas a month early and I have friends who go all out (and I mean "all out" in the Southern use of the term, which basically means that everything that doesn't move is spray-painted gold and tastefully gathered and grouped) and have their houses "holidayed" by Dec. 1.

You know what?

I finally figured out that it doesn't matter.  My house will never cause an editor of House Beautiful to say, "By George, I must share this sight with the general public!"    Doesn't matter.  The bank account is a bit thin and the credit card balances seem higher than they should.  Doesn't matter.  The Nest is warm and cozy, populated by a friendly-to-the-point-of-goofy white mutt and a not-so-little-anymore grey kitten who can wipe out a day of grumpiness by curling up on my lap for ten minutes.  FryDaddy and I are together, with clean bills of health.  Our problems are the relatively small problems of people living in a stable, industrialized society - too much food, too many friends who haven't been sent cards, too many choices of what to watch and where to go.

Think about it - what lovely problems to have.

The angels will come to proclaim the Good News.  It's up to me to stop whirling long enough to listen.

Come on in, friends.

Amendment One, Part Four

I know this has become a lengthy series and I promise I'll write about other things.  However, to me, this is an important issue which deserves some concentrated attention.  (Also, it's my blog, so I get to decide what I'll write about.)

This post - the last in the series - will focus on the elephant in the argument; namely, the religious angle.  Many people have a knee-jerk reaction to this amendment because of a particular religious point of view.  It's a point of view that focuses only on the sexual aspect of a relationship and depends heavily on some flawed arguments.  Let me deal with this briefly and then show how a particular court case comes into play.

1.  God made Adam and Steve and a whole bunch of other people.  Or maybe just Adam and Eve - Genesis will make your head spin.  Chapter 1 says humans were created after the animals and that male and female came about simultaneously (1:24 - 27), while chapter 2 says that man came first, then the critters, then the female of the human species (2:7 - 22).  Which account is correct?  And if that's confusing, hang on.  It's a wacky book.

2.  Sodom and Gomorrah were not destroyed by tolerance shown to gays.  Go back and really read the story - chapter 19 in Genesis.  (By the way, don't you ever get curious as to what "gomorrahy" might be?  No?  Maybe it's just me.)  Don't have a copy handy?  Well then - angels came to town and stayed with Lot, a "righteous man."  Wicked men of Sodom came to the house and demanded that Lot turn the strangers over to them for (there's not delicate way of putting this) a gang rape.  Lot refused (good guy) and offered his virgin daughters to the crowd instead (what??).  If you're going to be honest about what got Sodom smote/smited/smitten by the angelic host, you have to admit that it wasn't consensual homosexual sex.

3.  Gay relationships are an Biblical abomination in the same way that sowing a field with both beans and corn is.  The laws in Leviticus (where the term "abomination" is used to describe any number of actions; some of which are awful (child sacrifice to Moloch) and some of which are far less serious to us today (don't eat at Red Lobster) are hard to figure out.  And it's especially hard to suss out exactly which of these outdated laws I'm really ought to obey and which I can shrug and ignore.  I'm from the heart of barbecue country in North Carolina - the swine is hardly an unclean animal to me.  Especially when you add in the New Testament.

4.  Paul isn't to be totally trusted, either.  In his letter to the Romans,  Paul makes quite a big deal out of men who have chosen to go against God's "natural plan" (wording varies on translations).  The problem here is that  Paul often contradicts himself - look at Corinthians.  In the very same chapter (14), he first says that all who have the gift of prophecy shall speak so all can hear and learn.  Three verses later he orders that women are to stay silent in church.  Hope none of them have the gift of prophecy, or things could get dicey.

5.  Christ says nothing on the subject.  Nothing.  Zip.  Zilch.  I've always thought that if homosexuality was so all-fired important, somewhere in the four Gospels, His thoughts on the matter would be clearly recorded.  Don't take my word for it - get yourself a copy of the New Testament and read the Gospels.  If you limit yourself to reading Christ's words (the so-called "words in red" because they're often printed in red ink), you'll see what I mean.  Instead of condemnation and contempt, we have accounts of Christ preaching through his actions a ministry of acceptance that doesn't just border on radical; it upends the status quo entirely.  (My favorite is the bit of telling his disciples to  get the room for the Last Supper from a man they'll meet who is carrying a jar of water, which was totally woman's work.  May as well as told them to look for a drag queen.)

So the court case.  Legal Lesson 4 - Any law must pass the "Lemon test," named for the 1971 case of Lemon v. Kurtzman.  Here's the case, by the way.  Governmental action must meet three tests to pass muster.  If the action fails any of the three tests, it's unconstitutional as a violation of the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment (which way trumps Amendment One of North Carolina, remember.)  First, the action must have a secular legislative purpose.  Second, the action must not have the primary effect of either advancing or inhibiting religion.  Third, the action must not result in an 'excessive government entanglement" with religion.  Lemon makes it hard to say with a straight face that Amendment One is all about secular concerns.

I've heard patently ridiculous arguments on this issue.  Such as . . . gays can't have kids (well, not "naturally," whatever that means in this day and age of in-vitro and surrogacy, not to mention adoption), so we can't let this happen.  Or married gay couples will come into North Carolina and have legal issues (property division, child support, etc.) that our courts just aren't set up to handle. (That's from Rep. Kelly Hastings.)  Really?  Our courts can't determine and protect the rights of our citizens?  Then we have bigger problems to concentrate on.  Or that if we let this happen, soon we'll have 40-year-old men marrying 8-year old girls. (That one's also from Rep. Hastings, who apparently never met a slippery slope he didn't like.)  Really?  Even now, a bride has to be old enough to pay full price at the movies and I don't see that moving backwards.  We're talking about consenting, loving adults.  C'mon.  Are we so scared that we're really willing to use the Constitution of North Carolina to codify discrimination and fear and intolerance?  Shame on us if we are.

Watch this, if you will.  There's nothing to be afraid of.  This is a young man to be proud of.




And then watch this.  The one thing both sides seem to have right is that it's all about family.  I just believe in a bigger definition of that than some others do.




And then vote against inequality.  I know I will.

Amendment One, Part Three

The third in a series.  This installment is also known as "it doesn't count if you move."

Remember playing Hide ‘n’ Seek when you were a kid?  The whole idea was to hide from “It” then make a run for home base when the coast was clear.  Once "home," you were safe.  Well, some folks take the same approach to marriage with reasoning that goes something like this – if I can’t get married in my home state, but can somewhere else, I’ll cross state lines to have the shindig and get the certificate, then high-tail it back home.

It’s a good strategy and it worked for years.  Across the Great Pond, Gretna Green was just a sleepy village in Scotland until England passed a law stating that those under 21 couldn’t marry without parental consent.  Scotland let lovebirds as young as 16 get hitched, so Gretna Green (which was conveniently located just over the English border) became the “go to” wedding locale for teen sweethearts.  Read the history here – it wasn’t easy, but the weddings were recognized as valid, since they were valid where they were performed.

In the United States, it’s different.  While your driver’s license is recognized as giving you the right to operate a motor vehicle when you cross state lines, your marriage may not be as portable.  We’ll use the example of first cousins getting married.  (In all states, second cousins can marry, so let’s just ride right past that.)  North Carolina allows those marriages, although NC prohibits double first cousins from marrying.  (The statutory language is a bit confusing, so just think of it this way – two sisters marry two brothers.  Those couples have children.  Those children cannot marry in NC which, genetically speaking, just may be for the best.  Then again, we also have a law on the books validating marriage between former slaves, so any number of wacky things are considered to be possible in North Carolina.)  

Anyway, back to cousin marriage.  A number of states say, “No way, no how.”  Such states include Ohio and Nevada (with Las Vegas in its borders, I’ll admit to a certain level of surprise).  A number of states say, “Don’t do it here, but if you come back here married to your cousin, well, that’s okay by us.”  Such states include West Virginia and Louisiana.  Look here for an entertaining comparison of state laws.

 

Interestingly, divorces are viewed entirely differently.  So – Legal Lesson Three:  If you get a legal divorce wherever, it’s going to be recognized in another state either under something called the Full Faith & Credit Clause or through a legal principle known as“comity” (which is a legal way of saying “courtesy.”  We want them to respect our public acts and records, so we respect theirs).  Interesting to note that this applies to the dissolution of a marriage, but not the establishment of a marriage, since both involve state action – let’s be clear here, you’re not married when the preacher says so; you’re married when that state-issued piece of paper is signed and filed at the Clerk of Court.  The rest is lovely, but not legally required, nor legally binding.  The paper is non-negotiable.  

Back to the topic at hand.  Full Faith & Credit (and comity, for that matter) doesn’t apply if the marriage “offends the public policies” of another state, which is why a marriage between two committed gay folks done legally in Massachusetts or wherever has no legal effect here in North Carolina under the current law.  Amendment One, with its ham-hocked language about marriage being the ONLY valid domestic union, makes it worse.  You’ve done everything right and move here to enjoy our mountains and beaches, invest millions in our hard-working manufacturing force, and pay the second-lowest business taxes in the country – well, your marriage has no legal protection here.  And with that missing sentence that won’t be on the ballot, the validity of any contracts you may have drawn up (such as a pre-nuptial agreement) are in question. 

I dislike second-class citizenship and ultimately, that’s what Amendment One is about.  I get that gay marriage makes many people uncomfortable, which is why the next post will deal with Leviticus, Romans, and - believe it or not - Lemon.