Cloister Commentary, Day 221: Slow “News” Day

Ten new things I’ve tried and liked during this pandemic:

Twining’s Extra Bold and Irish Morning Teas (pretty much every morning since I first tried them–I now fully understand the word “restorative”)
Zoom instruction (dragged in against my will, kicked and screamed a bit, then started to figure out how to exploit it for constructive educational ends) (it helps that I teach English)
Disco obscurities (really, as much fun as garage rock and rockabilly obscurities if one does one’s homework)
Public notarization (from afar, or when you get something notarized, it seems a snap–but it’s surprisingly nerve-wracking until you’ve done a few)
Almond milk (I’ve never really been a milk fan anyway, but even our cats have no major issues with it)
Studying WNBA box scores (those kids can hit from the charity stripe, now!)
Burmese papaya salad (actually, Nicole ordered it for us rather impulsively, I thought I would dislike it, but then I loved it and she wasn’t sure–best served spicy!)
Judging a short non-fiction “Best of the Net 2020” contest with a bunch of other folks (I love to read, but I thought this might take the fun out of it–however, it’s been a bit of trip reading bad “good” stuff!)
Changing out a bathroom faucet (such undertakings normally fill me with fear–and loathing–but I actually did a good job and solved a problem in the process that the YouTube training didn’t prepare me for)
Eating multiple fruit items regularly (I’ve never been a big consumer of fruit–so unreliable! so easily damaged! so…complicated!–but I have actually eaten an apple–hello, honey crisps!–AND a banana 95% of the last two months’ worth of days)

Obviously, yesterday was a “slow news day” even for living in isolation. Such occasions are what lists are for! In the comment section below, share something you’ve tried and liked in COVID Time.

Streaming for Strivers:

Dedicated to my girl. She is the biggest Otis Rush fan I know!

Cloister Commentary, Day 218: Down Home

I road-tripped to Monett, Missouri, to visit my mom, and my brother and sister-in-law, who were up from Texas. I cranked up the sounds on the way down, and picked up some honey crisp apples and cider at Murphy’s Orchard in Marionville (“The Home of the White Squirrels,” but in my observation those are rampant). With the COVID forecast for the coming weeks looking grim, I felt I needed to get in a safe visit while I could.

Once we all got settled, we demonstrated how old we were by talking about alimentary functions, though, to our credit, we squeezed in (out?) some discussion of three things that don’t go well together, ‘rona, grad school, and disco. We supped on Mom’s delicious spaghetti soup, then engaged in what is becoming a tradition: the Mixed-Up Monett Movie Double Feature. This time, the features were James Reed and Pippa Ehrlich’s moving and moody documentary My Octopus Teacher and Sofia Coppola’s On The Rocks, which I was prepared to be strictly whelmed by but which I ended up really liking (Bill Murray and the ending were big factors).

Closing down the day, I had a Monett Margarita nightcap and SHOULD HAVE TURNED ON THE WORLD SERIES!!! At least I can watch the replay….

For a day when I did not read a page, it was a wonderful time.

Streaming for Survivors:

That album cover is mildly disturbing, but dig these two stunning plectrists-in-tandem.

Cloister Commentary, Day 212: Ankles in the Muck

Yesterday was a fairly good day, considering we knew we would be entering into today with some foreboding, since Nicole is returning to in-person instruction (also, we’re finalizing some estate paperwork, but that’s only symbolically foreboding). We were pleased to see that, on the evidence of the first episode, Showtime’s adaptation of James McBride’s epic novel The Good Lord Bird was spot-on across the board–especially regarding tone and nuance, not an easy trick with this story. We hope the series sustains that success.

However, I want to write about something else. Do any of you have patches of self-loathing? I do, especially when I don’t “do anything” for an extended period of time. This feeling, I think, is somewhat related to the fact that I’m down to one part-time job that isn’t causing me any strain; another aspect of it is just this damned pandemic, which makes me sometimes feel as if I’m up to my ankles in muck. The most important factor in this creeping feeling, though, is how much that’s currently urgent in my life is really out of my control. I’ve usually been pretty good at squaring myself with those forces, or entities, or phenomena, or whatever you want to call them, but the sheer number of them that are in play right now can make me feel like a mouse. I can be a bit of a fixer, a problem-solver, and I can feel as if, as Warren Zevon so eloquently wrote, my shit‘s fucked up. Yesterday, though largely good, was…one of those days.

Streaming for Strivers:

Speaking of that devil, these may well be the times in which writers like Zevon are best appreciated.

Cloister Commentary, Day 208: Batten Down the Hatches…Please?

The day after a big school board decision initiating returning to in-seat learning, Boone County racked up 100 new cases. How about we, the community, batten down the damn hatches for as long as it takes to fend the sh*t off, then we go back to the classroom and stay? Because, from the looks of November and December, we’re just going to be taking those three steps back–and at who knows what cost? Nicole rebounded from a hard Tuesday with such an admirably “screw it” attitude that it put me at ease, too…but these days, each day’s brush-off is just a temporary damn thing. Again, I recommend Albert Camus’ The Plague to my tiny crowd of readers.

In the late afternoon, as we were heading out to pick up our dinner curbside-ish, a couple of neighborhood youth alerted us to yet another feline who’d been run down by a driver who thought he was on I-70. From their description, we jumped to one heart-breaking conclusion, which was instantly ruled out by the sudden appearance of that neighbor’s cat. Unfortunately, our most recently integrated backyard stray, Mr. Scrappers, who did not really fit the kids’ description, did not show up for evening dining or bedtime check-in, so we are fearing the worst. We are becoming too familiar with each sparrow falling–no deity may be watching, but it sometimes feels as if we are.

Streaming for Strivers:

Serious ALL-STAR rhythm, right here.

Cloister Commentary, Day 207: What You Reading For?

The day was quite frankly overshadowed by the worrisome news that Nicole will be heading back to in-person instruction. Neither of us are of the opinion that the health of the community in any way dictates a safe return to buildings by students, faculty, and staff. It’s certainly improved; it is still not good. We spent part of the evening beginning to consider precautions we’ll need to take at home. Of course, we’ve been taking them since around The Ides of March, but clearly they will need to be ramped up. Could she (or I? or we?) die? Yes, though that is unlikely–however, our experiences with death over the last five months give us no comfort. Could she (or I? or we?) get sick? Much more likely–and I don’t know if you’ve done your homework on the virus, but the majority of folks that contract it don’t just get over it. Its multiple effects recur over time, and in some cases have not dissipated at all. Could we get friends, family, co-workers, and students sick, and might they die? Yes, and we have many older friends and family members. Should we institute a home system where we distance and mask to discourage hugs, kisses, eating at the same table, hanging out in the same room, and sleeping in the same bed? It is a big deal.

We are well aware so many are suffering the social and economic effects of this virus more drastically than we are (we think and talk about it all the time, with heavy hearts–we didn’t just start teaching and understanding families yesterday), but we both question the wisdom of this move. On top of that anxiety, to be blamed by some for the state of their families’ educational and economic progress (and even happiness) is deeply depressing, and reminds me that this country has had multiple chances to create programs that would assist us in these situations–but then that would be Communism, socialism, entitlements, welfare-state suckling, kindness, humanity, charity…something like that.

Anyway, we noticed some nice folks were considering gathering in front of the homes of school board members who voted against the return of middle schoolers and high schoolers (who are not returning–yet), with signs, chanting, hostility of the apparently gleeful kind, etc. etc. I know of people who say, “What do you read for?” Others are skeptical that anything you get from books isn’t really real, or true, or helpful in navigating life. Maybe. I doubt it. I was immediately put in mind of two very memorable and instructive literary moments when I perused a few of these nice folks’ comments: one is Colonel Sherburn’s speech to the mob in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (censored even now in some schools); the other is a similar scene (surely inspired by Twain’s description) in To Kill a Mockingbird, when Atticus is guarding Tom Robinson at the Maycomb jail. Sure, those examples aren’t exactly what was being threatened, but the dynamics were close enough to help me make sense of and find my footing with these community threats.

Read. It helps. And it’s cheap.

Streaming for Strivers:

A boost to my spirits this morning, and I hope it is to yours.

Cloister Commentary, Day 206: The Thrills and Spills of Tutoring

After Nicole and I took a long neighborhood walk through a windy, cool, overcast fall morning and I arrived at work, I was presented with my first major tutoring challenge of the semester. I was due to Zoom-proctor a student’s on-line math test–it’s very doable via screen-sharing and camera sweeps–but I’d just had my computer replaced, and the techs had not reconnected my mic, camera, and speakers. Sounds like something I could have done, but the simple task required administrative log-in credentials and I’m so low on the totem pole I’m under the ground. The biggest problem was, the instructor was starting the test remotely and the test was timed. Fortunately, neither the student nor I panicked (her mic, camera, and speakers were working great), and I managed to use the chat function skillfully enough to get her through. The exciting life of a professional tutor!

When I returned home from work, I was rewarded for my patience and “ingenuity” with a Tampa Bay victory over Houston (sorry, Brian), I listened to some classic highlife music from Bokoor Studios in Ghana, and I read several more chapters from Jorge Ibargüengoitia’s pitch-black The Dead Girls.

After more shepherd’s pie for supper and a cup of hot golden milk, we read and waited for results from a special school board vote regarding a return to in-seat schooling–which, unfortunately, stretched into the night past our endurance. Judging from the national COVID-19 map, now doesn’t seem to be a great time, but, as I pointed out to a colleague yesterday, these are counterintuitive times. We awakened wide-eyed at 3:45 a.m to the news.

Streaming for Strivers:

A continuation from last night’s soundtrack.

Cloister Commentary, Day 202: Comrades, Cousins, and Comedians

I had mentioned a few commentaries back that the inspirational Stephens prof Ann Breidenbach and I had teamed up for a fun educational project, but I withheld the details. Yesterday, the project went to ground: after we educated her women’s studies students about absentee voting, we created an opportunity whereby I was able to notarize her students’ ballots that required it. Few actually did need that service, but two of them just happened to be the top students from my virtual summer freshman comp class, whom I’d never met in person. Even though we were all masked, we recognized each other from about 30 feet away! As my friend George Frissell would have said (quoting Chief Dan George in Little Big Man, as was frequently his wont), it made my heart soar like a hawk.

I also had the pleasure of talking with my cousin Gregory on the phone for over an hour. I frankly do not enjoy blabbin’ into the blower for even five minutes, but Greg is one of those few exceptions. His insights, good cheer, sense of humor, and wise perspectives were quite welcome (roiling, rotten stuff happened to have been weighing on my mind at the time), and he’s really an inspirational human being. We traded stories, and I honestly had trouble hanging up the phone. May you have a rewarding weekend, cuz.

Nicole and I both had educational crises dumped in our laps after 5 p.m (it’s an occupational hazard of great regularity for all us edumacators), but we calmed our nerves with an old remedy we had not tried in over a decade: Southpark. “The Pandemic Special” proved Matt and Trey are still great at that thing they do. They have Tegrity.

Streaming for Strivers:

They say it’s his birthday!

Cloister Commentary, Day 193: Plottin’ Pedagogs!

When I was a full-time public school teacher, I truly loved plotting with fellow fun-loving educators (I think of Nicole Overeem, Karen Downey, George Frissell, Brock Boland, Jim Kome and Jill Varns) to pull off exciting and inventive educational experiences. Yesterday in the early morning, my very esteemed, beloved and influential Stephens College colleague Ann Breidenbach e-mailed me with a brilliant idea she required my assistance to execute, if I was game. I received the email right after she sent it, I replied (as is my wont), “Let’s do it now!” and in a matter of seconds, I was Zooming with her Women’s Studies class putting the idea into play. As I retiree, I can’t perfectly communicate how thrilled I am to be involved in this venture–and, NO, I’m not going to tell you what it is yet! I will give you a clue: it’s a particularly great brainstorm if you happen to be a teacher or a student in Missouri, Oklahoma, or Mississippi.

That’s about all I have, except this: I have always luxuriated in this time of year and its brilliant skies, mild weather, blazing colors, and bittersweet, reflective overtone. I never thought I would ever enter it with my current level of dread, disappointment, despair, and disgust. I have very few illusions about who, what, where, why, and how we are, and I do know it’s not all bad, but another “d” word is hovering in the air, Isaac, waiting for me to pluck it out for use: DESULTORY.

Streaming for Strivers:

Speaking of things that are not bad, I invite you to partake of the work of an underrated star in the American music firmament who’s celebrating the anniversary of her arrival today.

Cloister Commentary, Day 192: Erratically Conscious

I set a personal professional record with seven consecutive tutorial sessions on Zoom yesterday. All my appointments showed up early and prepared, they demonstrated impressive knowledge of their chosen genre and film history, their essay ideas were fairly sound, and, in most cases, I was able to facilitate an obliterating of their compositional obstacles (also known as “helping them”). Perhaps the sessions were made more pleasant by my Zoom background, which was the actual cozy little residential section of West Walnut Street that backs my office window but looked almost computer-generated. Anything to distract from my COVID-forged grooming, which is indeed approaching the Jeff Bridges-esque.

Do you fall asleep sitting up, even while watching shows you love with people you love? Fear not–you are not alone. I believe this is a sign of simply being in the “second half” of life’s game. I had to “make up” a viewing of the third and fourth episode of Watchmen that I was erratically conscious for when Nicole and I originally watched it, but, I tell you what (do people say that in other regions?), that show is scintillating. Just scintillating. Worth watching twice even IF you were fully conscious for it!

I awakened this morning at 3:15 again, afraid I was living in a (bit more scarily defined) theocracy.

Streaming for Survivors:

Who’d-a thunk this ivory-pounder would indeed be one of the very last men standing? And did you know he kicks this album off with a Led Zeppelin cover?

Cloister Commentary, Day 191: We Love the Sunrise

We were a little groggy when we awakened, so we decided to hop in the truck, turn up a little birthday-boy Bud Powell and head east on I-70 to watch the sun rise. Unfortunately, cloud cover was obscuring the event, so at Millersburg we turned around to head back home–only to see the pink-orange orb in its full glory a few seconds later in our rear-view mirror.

We also took a very long walk around the neighborhood. The weather was perfectly mild, the rain was still hanging in wait, the morning was quiet–but it’s not quite the same without your dog.

Later, I wrote one of my summer school students a recommendation letter for Stephens’ study abroad program and did my first round of editing and suggesting for my 2020-2021 Battle High School mentee. They are both outstanding humans.

As the afternoon turned to evening, we indulged in two musical Louies at pretty high volume–Prima and Jordan–then took a brief nap to Nat King Cole singing en Español (a highly recommended activity). Nicole did grade-checks, I watched the Miami Heat–I’m going to call them a team of destiny–advance to the NBA Bubble Finals over the Celtics, and we closed down shop with an episode of Last Tango in Halifax, the window open so we could hear the rain finally fall.

Streaming for Strivers:

The ultimate in iconic self-pity!